haps I have something to say to her that will make her laugh.-Why sure! what need you care? Mar. Don't snub my cousin Charly.—Well, what is't?

Char. Who do you think I met as I was coming here, but that handsome gentleman I've seen at church ogle you like any devil?

Mar. Hush, softly, cousin.

Lis. Not a word of that for your life.

Char. Oh, I know, I should not speak on't before folks; you know I made signs to you above, that I wanted to speak to you in private, didn't I, cousin? Mar. Yes, yes, I saw you.

Char. You see I can keep a secret.-I am no girl, mun.-I believe I could tell ye fifty, and fifty to that, of my sister Cicely.-Oh, she's the devil of a girl!-but she gives me money and sugarplums-and those that are kind to me fare the better for it, you see, cousin.

Mar. I always said my cousin Charly was a good-natured boy.

Lis. Well, and did he know you?

Char. Yes, I think he did know me-for he ook me in his arms, and did so hug me and kiss e-Between you and I, cousin, I believe he is ne of the best friends I have in the world. Mar. Well, but what did he say to you? Char. Why, he asked me where I was going; ld him I was coming to see you; You're a lying oung rogue, says he, I'm sure you dare not go see our cousin :-for you must know my sister was th me, and it seems he took her for a crack, and being a forward boy, he fancied I was going to ake love to her under a hedge, ha! ha! Mar. So!

Char. So he offered to lay me a louis-d'or that was not coming to you; so, Done ! says I-Done! ys he, and so 'twas a bet, you know. Mar. Certainly.

Char. So my sister's honour being concerned, d having a mind to win his louis-d'or, d'ye see I bid him follow me, that he might see whether came in or no.-But he said he'd wait for me at e little garden gate that opens into the fields, and I would come through the house and meet him tre, he should know by that whether I had been

or no.

the more the better.

Col. Yes, sir.-Odsflesh! we shall break all the inns in the country:-for we have a breave hand'some landlady, and a curious young lass to her daughter.-Oh, here comes my young measter.We'll make him chamberlain-ha! ha!

Enter DORANT.

Mon. Barn. What's the matter, son? How comes it that you are all alone? You used to do me the favour to bring some of your friends along with ye.

Dor. Sir, there are some of 'em coming; I only rid before to beg you to give 'em a favourable reception.

Mon. Barn. Ay, why not? It is both for your honour and mine; you shall be master.

Dor. Sir, we have now an opportunity of making all the gentlemen in the country our friends. Mon. Barn. I'm glad on't with all my heart; pray how so?

Dor. There's an old quarrel to be made up between two families, and all the company are to

meet at our house.

Mon. Barn. Why so?

Dor. I thought, sir, you did not care for the

HH

Mon. Barn. Oh, we shall dispose of them easily enough.

Dor. Some of 'em will be here presently; the rest I don't expect till to-morrow morning.

Mon. Barn. I hope they're good companions, jolly fellows, that love to eat and drink well?

Dor. The merriest, best-natured creatures in the world, sir.

Mon. Barn. I'm very glad on't, for 'tis such men I want.-Come, brother, you and I will go and prepare for their reception.

[Exit with Monsieur GRIFFARD. Dor. Bless me, what an alteration is here! How my father's temper is changed within these two or three days! Do you know the meaning of it?

Col. Why the meaning on't is, ha ! ha!

Dor. Can you tell me the cause of this sudden change, I say?

Col. Why the cause on't is, ha ! ha !—

Dor. What do you laugh at, sirrah? do you know?

Col. Ha!-Because the old gentleman's a droll, that's all.

Dor. Sirrah, if I take the cudgel

Col. Nay, sir, don't be angry for a little harmless mirth.-But here are your friends.

Enter Messieurs LA GARANTIERE, La Rose, and
TROFIGNAC.

Dor. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Pasty Hall. See that these gentlemen's horses are taken care of. [Exit COLIN.

La Gar. A very fine dwelling this. Dor. Yes, the house is tolerable. La Rose. And a very fine lordship belongs to it.

Dor. The land is good.

Trof. This house ought to have been mine; for my grandfather sold it to his father, from whom your father purchased it.

Dor. Yes, the house has gone through a great many hands.

La Gar. A sign there has always been good housekeeping in it.

Dor. And I hope there ever will.

Re-enter Monsieur BARNARD and Monsieur GRIFFARD, dressed like Drawers.

Mon. Barn. Gentlemen, do you call? will you please to see a room, gentlemen ?-Somebody take off the gentlemen's boots there.

Dor. Father! uncle! what is the meaning of

this?

Mon. Barn. Here, show a room.-Or will you please to walk into the kitchen first, gentlemen, and see what you like for dinner.

La Gar. Make no preparation, sir; your own dinner is sufficient.

Mon. Barn. Very well, I understand ye. Let's see, how many are there of ye?—[Counting them.] One, two, three, four: well, gentlemen, 'tis but half-a-crown a-piece for yourselves, and sixpence a head for your servants; your dinner shall be ready in half an hour. Here, show the gentlemen into the Apollo.

La Rose. What, sir, does your father keep an inn?

sir.

Mon. Barn. The Sword Royal, at your service,

Dor. Oh, I'm disgraced for ever! Mon. Barn. Now, son, this will teach you how to live.

Dor. Your son! I deny the kindred; I'm the son of a whore, and I'll burn your house about your ears, you old rogue you!

Mon. Barn. Ha ha!—

Mon. Griff. The young gentleman's in a passion Mon. Barn. They're all gone for all that, and the Sword-Royal's the best general in Christend

Enter ERASTUS's Servant talking with LISETTA. Lis. What, that tall gentleman I saw in garden with ye?

Serv. The same, he's my master's uncle, and ranger of the king's forests. He intends to lear my master all he has.

Mon. Barn. Don't I know this scoundrel! What, is his master here!-What do you do hem rascal ?

Serv. I was asking which must be my master chamber.

Mon. Barn. Where is your master? Serv. Above stairs with your wife and daughter and I want to know where he's to lie, that I m put up his things.

Mon. Barn. Do you so, rascal? Serv. A very handsome inn this.-Here, drawer fetch me a pint of wine.

Mon. Barn. Take that, rascal; do you bant

Mad. Barn. What is the meaning of this, bu band? Are not you ashamed to turn your hous into an inn?-and is this a dress for my spous and a man of your character ?

Mon. Barn. I'd rather wear this dress than ruined.

Mad. Barn. You're nearer being so than y imagine; for there are some persons within have it in their power to punish you for your rid culous folly.

Enter ERASTUS, leading in MARIANNE. Mon. Barn. How, sir, what means this? whe sent you here?

Erast. It was the luckiest star in your firs ment that sent me here.

Mon. Barn. Then I doubt, at my birth, the planets were but in a scurvy disposition. Erast. Killing one of the king's stags, that run hither for refuge, is enough to overturn a fortune much better established than yours. However, sir, if you will consent to give me your daughter, for her sake I will bear you harmless.

Mon. Barn. No, sir; no man shall have my daughter, that won't take my house too.

Erast. Sir, I will take your house; pay you the Full value of it, and you shall remain as much master of it as ever.

Mon. Barn. No, sir, that won't do neither; you must be master yourself, and from this minute

begin to do the honours of it in your own per

son.

Erast. Sir, I readily consent.

Mon. Barn. Upon that condition, and in order to get rid of my house, here, take my daughter.And now, sir, if you think you've a hard bargain, I don't care if I toss you in my wife, to make you amends.

Well, then since all things thus are fairly sped,
My son in anger, and my daughter wed;
My house disposed of, the sole cause of strife,
I now may hope to lead a happy life,
If I can part with my engaging wife.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE I.-A Room in UNCLE RICHARD'S

House.

Enter UNCLE RICHARD.

The

Unc. Rich. What prudent cares does this deep foreseeing nation take for the support of its worshipful families! In order to which, and that they may not fail to be always significant and useful in their country, it is a settled foundation-point that every child that is born shall be a beggar, except one; and that he-shall be a fool. My grandfather was bred a fool, as the country report; my father was a fool, as my mother used to say; my brother was a fool, to my own knowledge, though a great justice of the peace; and he has left a son that will make his son a fool, or I am mistaken. lad is now fourteen years old, and but just out of his Psalter. As to his honoured father, my muchesteemed nephew-here I have him.-[Takes out a letter.] In this profound epistle (which I have just now received) there is the top and bottom of him. Forty years and two is the age of him; in which it is computed, by his butler, his own person has drank two-and-thirty tun of ale. The rest of his time has been employed in persecuting all the poor four-legged creatures round that would but run away fast enough from him, to give him the high-mettled pleasure of running after them. In this noble employ he has broke his right arm, his

left leg, and both his collar-bones. Once he broke his neck, but that did him no harm; a nirb hedge-leaper, a brother of the stirrup, that was b whipped off his horse and mended it. His esta being left him with two jointures and three weighty mortgages upon it, he, to make all easy, and his brother's and sister's portions, married a p fuse young housewife for love, with never a pe of money. Having done all this, like his brave ancestors, for the support of the family, be finds children and interest-money make such bawling about his ears, that he has taken friendly advice of his neighbour, the good Courtlove, to run his estate two thousand poun more in debt, that he may retrieve his affairs being a parliament-man, and bringing his w London to play off a hundred pounds at dice ladies of quality before breakfast. But let me this wiseacre's letter once over again.-[Reas Most honoured uncle, I do not doubt but you much rejoiced at my success in my election. It cost me some money, I own; but what of all that I am a parliament-man, and that will set ol rights. I have lived in the country all my 'tis true; but what then! I have made speeches the sessions, and in the vestry too, and can where, perhaps, as well as some others that a and I have a noble friend hard by, who has let til into some small knowledge of what's what at We

minster. And so, that I may be always at hand to serre my country, I have consulted with my wife about taking a house at London, and bringing her and my family up to town; which, her opinion is, will be the rightest thing in the world.-My wife's pinion about bringing her to London !-I'll read no more of thee-beast!

[Strikes the letter down with his stick.

Enter JAMES hastily.

James. Sir, sir! do you hear the news? They re all a-coming.

Unc. Rich. Ay, sirrah, I hear it, with a pox to it! James. Sir, here's John Moody arrived already; e's stumping about the streets in his dirty boots, nd asking every man he meets, if they can tell here he may have a good lodging for a parliaent-man, till he can hire such a house as becomes m. He tells them his lady and all the family are oming too; and that they are so nobly attended ey care not a fig for anybody. Sir, they have ded two cart-horses to the four old geldings, cause my lady will have it said she came to town her coach-and-six; and-ha! ha!-heavy George e ploughman rides postilion!

Une. Rich. Very well; the journey begins as it ould do.-James!

James. Sir!

Une. Rich. Dost know whether they bring all e children with them?

James. Only Squire Humphry and Miss Betty, the other six are put to board at half-a-crown eek a head, with Joan Growse at Smoke-dung-farm.

Une. Rich. The Lord have mercy upon all od folks! what work will these people make! st know when they'll be here?

James. John says, sir, they'd have been here last ht, but that the old wheezy-belly horse tired, the two fore-wheels came crash down at once Waggonrut-lane. Sir, they were cruelly loaden, I understand; my lady herself, he says, laid on mail-trunks, besides the great deal-box, which Tom sate upon behind.

Inc. Rich. So!

ames. Then within the coach there was Sir acis, my lady, the great fat lapdog, Squire phry, Miss Betty, my lady's maid, Mrs. dy, and Doll Tripe the cook; but she puked sitting backward, so they mounted her into coach-box.

nc. Rich. Very well.

ames. Then, sir, for fear of a famine before they uid get to the baiting-place, there was such kets of plum-cake, Dutch-gingerbread, Chee-cheese, Naples biscuits, maccaroons, neats'ques, and cold boiled beef;-and in case of ness, such bottles of usquebaugh, black-cherry ady, cinnamon-water, sack, tent, and strong, as made the old coach crack again. ne. Rich. Well said!

James. And for defence of this good cheer and lady's little pearl necklace, there was the family ket-hilt sword, the great Turkish cimiter, the blunderbuss, a good bag of bullets, and a great n of gunpowder.

nc. Rich. Admirable ! ames. Then for bandboxes, they were so beed up-to sir Francis's nose, that he could y peep out at a chance hole with one eye, as if

sir.

he were viewing the country through a perspectiveglass.-But, sir, if you please, I'll go look after John Moody a little, for fear of accidents; for he never was in London before, you know, but one week, and then he was kidnapped into a house of ill repute, where he exchanged all his money and clothes for a-um! So I'll go look after him, [Exit. Unc. Rich. Nay, I don't doubt but this wise expedition will be attended with more adventures than one. This noble head and supporter of his family will, as an honest country gentleman, get credit enough amongst the tradesmen, to run so far in debt in one session, as will make him just fit for a jail when he's dropped at the next election. He will make speeches in the house, to show the government of what importance he can be to them, by which they will see he can be of no importance at all; and he will find, in time, that he stands valued at (if he votes right) being sometimes— invited to dinner! Then his wife (who has ten times more of a jade about her than she yet knows of) will so improve in this rich soil, she will, in one month, learn every vice the finest lady in the town can teach her. She will be extremely courteous to the fops who make love to her in jest, and she will be extremely grateful to those who do it in earnest. She will visit all ladies that will let her into their houses, and she will run in debt to all the shopkeepers that will let her into their books. In short, before her husband has got five pound by a speech at Westminster, she will have lost five hundred at cards and dice in the parish of St. James's.-Wife and family to London with a pox!

[Exit.

SCENE II-A Room in Mrs. MOTHERLY'S House.

Enter JAMES, and JOHN MOODY.

James. Dear John Moody, I am so glad to see you in London once more.

John. And I you, dear Mr. James. Give me a kiss. Why that's friendly.

James. I wish they had been so, John, that you met with when you were here before.

John. Ah-murrain upon all rogues and whores! I say. But I am grown so cunning now, the deel himself can't handle me. I have made a notable bargain for these lodgings here, we are to pay but five pounds a-week, and have all the house to ourselves.

James. Where are the people that belong to it to be then?

John. Oh! there's only the gentlewoman, her two maids, and a cousin, a very pretty, civil young woman truly, and the maids are the merriest grigs

James. Have a care, John.

John. Oh, fear nothing; we did so play together last night.

James. Hush! here comes my master.