THE

BOARDING SCHOOL:

OR, THE

SHAM CAPTAIN.

AN OPER A.

By C. COFFEY, Esq.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

MEN.

Drury-Lane. Alderman Nincompoop, a sneaking uxorious citizen, Mr. Griffin. Ned Brag,alias Capt. Bouncer, kept by Lady Termagant, Mr. Berry. Zachary Brag, his father, an ignorant, blunt, old

Mr. Shepherd.

old}

Mr. Oates.

Drawers, Servants, and Attendants, &c.
SCENE, Chelsea.

Mr. Stopelaer

Mr. Harper. Mrs. Raftor.

Mrs. Chark.

Mrs. Mullart.

Mifs Mann.

SCENE I.

Nincompoop and Ned Brag.

Ninc. NAY, but feriously, Captain, and fon-in-law that must be, I was firangely afham'd to have an impudent fellow, a ragged red-coat rogue, to talk at that

rate.

N. Brag

N. Brag. By all the fiery conftellations! had I but heard him, his foul fhould have paid for his faucinefs; the fun should have shot his rays through his cullenderbody ere he had fpoke five words. But, prithee, honest father in-law that muft be, what did the rafcal fay?

Ninc. Say! why, seriously, I think the fellow was mad; he had the impudence to fay that he was your father, and that your right name was Brag, and that you were the veriest rafcal in town, feriously and then he called you an hundred pimps, one after another.

N. Brag. Intolerable, infolent fcoundrel !

Ninc. He faid he would kick you, seriously.
N. Brag. Dog!

Ninc. And when you went into the coach with my lady my wife, if I had not ftopped him he wou'd have gone in, feriously, after you.

N. Brag. I'll have the rogue whipp'd from Charingcrofs to Chatham for this.

Ninc. Nay, feriously, the fellow ought to be punish'd, that's the truth on't; he was as faucy as if he had been your father indeed.-Well, goodby, I must wait upon my lady my wife, to beg leave of her to let me meet fome friends at a bowl of punch this afternoon.

AIR I. Set by MR SEE D O.
No liquor can fuch joys difpenfe
As punch, that juice divine ;
It makes the fool a man of fenfe,
And wife heads dull, like mine.
My lady wife ftill rules the roast,
And always keeps me under;
But when I fee good punch and toast,
I fwagger fo-you'd wonder.

N. Brag. Do fo; and, do you hear, good coufin, tell her I'll be with her ladyship presently.

Ninc. Nay, but you won't make hafte; prithee, dear coufin, Captain, make hafte now; seriously, the likes your company mightily: fhe fays you are the finest man, and the fittest husband for my daughter Moll in the world. Well, will you make haste ?

N. Brag.

N. Brag. I will I will.-I'll but take t'other turn, and be with her inftantly.

Ninc. Seriously, you'll oblige me extremely then, for I long to be at the bowl of punch.

[Exit. N. Brag. How rarely do my lady and I manage this fellow. She has kept me these two years, and I think not many of the toupets about town appear better than I do. 'Tis true, I am naturally impudent; and though I was formerly of the blackguard, yet now, being well kept, and affifted by good rigging, dare thruft myself among people of quality, and pass for a captain amongst 'em.

AIR II. Set by MR. SEEDO.
How many pimps and powder'd beaus,
Who fhine like me in lace;

Can boast of nothing but their clothes,

And dint of brazen-face!

But fearch their infides, foon you'll find
They're made of vileft stuff;

And though the dregs of all mankind,

Like me are captains bluff.

The only misfortune is, that I have a poor, peevish, damn'd old father, a grenadier, who is eternally difgracing me before company: 'Twas he, I know by the ftyle, that gave the late character of me to my cuckold d; and fee, as the devil will have it, here he comes; he has dog'd me by this light.

Zachary Brag finging.

AIR III. Then why fhou'd we study for riches.
A foldier of all the degrees,.

Enjoys, fure, the merrieft life;
His pleasures are hunger and eafe,
Tobacco, whore, gin, and a wife:
Then who wou'd ftudy for riches,
Or fuch vain glittering toys?

A light heart and thin pair of breeches
Go through the world brave boys..

[He ftares at, and furveys him all round.

Your fervant, Sir.

N. Brag. Yours, Sir,

Z. Brag. Do you know me, Sir?

N. Brag.

N. Brag. Yes, yes, I know you but too well.

Z. Brag. Zoons! what a deal of lace the fon of a whore has got upon his coat. Do you hear a word with you, friend. Am not I your father?

N. Brag. That my mother knows beft.-But what if you are?

Z. Brag. Where's your hat then, you dog? Where's your reverence, firrah? What, are you too good?

(Strikes off his hat. N. Brag. My hat's too good to be fpoil'd, Sir; and the feather in it cost me a guinea.

Z. Brag. Did it fo, Sir? and muft you wear a feather in your hat that cost a guinea, and let your father be reduced to a single stiver, firrah ?Come, come, disburse; if you would fave your bones, disburse, and quickly too money, money, money, firrah; comeN. Brag. What a plague, you won't rob me, will you? you know the law.

Z. Brag. The law!-Here's a rogue for you; talk to him but of money, and he's immediately for hanging his father. But I'll law you prefently-here's law for you, you dog.-Sirrah, difburfe, and quickly, or

(Draws.

N. Brag. This old heathen will make no more of spitting me now than if I were a rat; and the devil a penny I have to give him.-What a plague shall I do?

Z. Brag. You have a rampant lady, I hear, you rogue, to uphold your prodigality: you can feaft upon wine and venifon, you dog, when I was forc'd yesterday to dine with an honeft Dutch trooper, an old friend of mine, upon a pickled herring. But come, firrah, fince you are kept, with a pox to you, let's fee what wages hes ladyfhip affords; let's fee the cole

N. Brag. I have not a fous, upon my honour, Sir.

Z. Brag. How, no money!-What, then, you do my lady's drudgery for nothing, do you, fcoundrel? a fine trade indeed! an hopeful employ truly!-Had you not ́better have stay'd with the black-fmith where I put you to prentice, you prodigal son of a whore, you?

N. Brag. No, thank you, faith-I have an easier forge to work at, and better company into the bargain.

Z. Brag. You lie, firrah.-But to equip me for bet

ter

ter company, I think this hat and feather will not be amifs; this peruke alfo is proper; this fword and coat likewife. (Takes 'em all. N. Brag. S'death, Sir! what do you mean?

Z. Brag. To make money of 'em, firrah; hang 'em out in Monmouth Street as trophies of my industry.

N. Brag. Nay, father

Z. Brag. Sirrah, ftir a foot after me, and I'll run my fword in your guts.- Blood! I've a mind to the breeches too; I cou'd flea the ungracious dog as I wou'd an eel-but come, this fhall ferve at present. But do you hear, firrah, get money in your pocket against the next time, to relieve your old father, or I'll have no mercy on you.

AIR IV. Woolly is gone to France.
The merchant that ploughs the wide ocean,
Is nought but a travelling cheat;
And he that attends for promotion

Muft lie, fawn, and cringe, to be great:
But we, like the bold fons of thunder,
As foon as the battle is o'er,
Enrich ourselves thus with the plunder,

(Exit.

Then spend it and fight for more. N. Brag. So, a very pretty bufinefs this.--Thus am I ferved by this old rafcal whenever I refuse him money; nay, nor is this all, for the disgraces I fuffer by him vex me more by half.-Meeting me t'other day, talking to a great Lord in the street; firrah, fays he, lend me eighteenpence, for my stockings want footing, and my fhoes have loft both their heels. My Lord star'd at him like a ftuck pig, and he as much as my Lord, till having dif patched him, I was obliged to recover all, by fwearing he was a crazy, old Edgehill officer, that I kept upon charity. Well, this will never do, I must study fome redrefs; though I want courage to beat the old fcoundrel. But first to my lady, to whom I must tell fome damn’d lie or other for a new equipment. One hour's foft endearment will, I know, fet all right again.

SCENE II.

Nincompoop, Tarnish.

Ninc. O, Mrs. Tarnifh, your humsle fervant. Pray

where