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that, and like our family. I never saw lady Enter Sır PATRICK.
O'Nale, your mother-in-law, wbo, poor crater,
is dead, and can never be a mother-in-law again, Sir Pat. Mr. Whizzle, your humble servant. till the week before I married her; and I did -It gives me great pleasure, that an old jontle- not care if I had never seen her then; which is min of your property will have the honour of a comfort, too, in case of death, or accidents in being united with the family of the O’Nales! We life. have been too much jontlemen not to spend our Whit. But you don't understand me, Sir Paestate, as you have made yourself a kind of jon- trick. I saytleman by getting one. One runs out one way, Sir Put. I say, how can that be, when we both and t'other runs in another; which makes them spake English both meet at last, and keeps up the balance of
Whit. But you mistake my meaning, and Europe.
don't comprehend me. Whit. I am much obliged to you, Sir Patrick; Sir Pat. Then you don't comprehend yourI am an old gentlemen, you say true; and I was self, Mr. Whizzle; and I have not the gift of thinking
prophecy to find out, after you have spoke, what Sir Pat. And I was thinking, if you were ever
never was in you. so old, my daughter can't make you young again:
Whit. Let me en you to attend to me a She has as rich tine thick blood in her veins as little. any in all Ireland. I wish you had a swate cra- Sir Pat. I do attend, inan; I don't interrupt ter of a daughter like mine, that we might make you—out with it? a double cross of it.
Whit. Your daughter--
[ Aside. Whit. My wise that is not to be—Zounds ! Sir Pat. Though I was miserable enough with will you hear me? my first wife, who had the devil of a spirit-and Sir Pat. To be, or not to be, is that the the very model of her daughter-yet a brave question? I can swear, too, if he wants a little man never shrinks from danger, and I may have of that. better luck another time,
Whit. Dear Sir Patrick, hear me! I confess Whit. Yes; but I am no brave man, Sir Pa- myself unworthy of her; I have the greatest retrick; and I begin to shrink already.
gard for you, Sir Patrick; I should think mySir Pat. I have bred her up in great subjec- self honoured by being in your family; but there tion; she is as tame as a young colt, and as tin- are many reasonsder as a sucking chicken. You will find her a Sir Pat. To be sure, there are many reasons true jontlewoman; and so knowing, that you wliy an old man should not marry a young can teach her nothing : She brings every thing woman; but that was your business, and not but money, and you have enough of that, if you
mine. hare nothing else; and that is what I call the Whit. I have wrote a letter to your daughter, balance of things.
which I was in bopes you had seen, and brought Whit. But I have heen considering your me an answer to it. daughter's great deserts, and my great age. Sir Pat. What the devil, Mr. Whizzle! do
Sir Put. She's a charming crater; I would you make a letter-porter of me? Do you imaventure to say that, if I was not her father. gine, you dirty fellow, with your cash, that Sir
IFhit. I say, sir, as I have been considering Patrick O'Nale would carry your letters? I your daughter's great deserts, and as I own I would have you know that I despise your lethave great demerits
ters, and all that belong to them; nor would I Sir Pat. To be sure you have; but you can't carry a letter to the kiny, Heaven bless him! help that: And if my daughter was to mention unless it canje from myself. any thing of a feering at your age, or your stin- Whil. But dear Sir Patrick, don't be in a pasginess, by the balance of power, but I would sion for nothing. make her repate it a hundred times to your Sir Pat. What! is it nothing to make a face, to make her ashamed of it. But mum, old penny postman of me? But I'll go to my daughjontleman, the devil a word of your infirmities ter directly, for I have not seen her to-day; and will she touch upon: I have brought her up to if I find that you have written any thing that I softness, and to gentleness, as a kitten to new won't understand, I shall take it as an atiront to milk; she will spake nothing but no and yes, as my family; and you shall either let out the if she were dumb; and no tame rabbit or pigeon noble blood of the O'Nales, or I will spill the will keep b-use, or be more inganious with her last drop of the red puddle of the Whizzles. needle and tambourine.
(Going, and returns.) Harkye, you Mr. Whit. She is vastly altered then, since I saw Whizzle, Wbeczlc, Whistle, what's your name? her last, or I bave lost my senses; and, in either You must not stir, till I come back; if you ofcase, we had much better, since I must speak fer to ate, drink, or sleep, till my honour is saplain, not come together.
tisfied, 't will be the worst male that you ever Sir Pat. Till you are married, you mane?- look in your life; you had better fast a year, With all my heart, it is the more gentale for and die at the end of six months, than dare to
lave your house. So now, Mr. Weezle, you are Tho. Here are the undertakers already.
[Erit Tho. Whit. Now the devil is at work, indeed! If Whit. What shall I do? my head can't bear some miracle don't save me, I shall run mad, it; I will hang myself for fear of being run like my nephew, and have a long Irish sword through the body. through me into the bargain. While I am in iny senses, I won't have the woman ; and there
THOMAS returns with bills. fore, he that is out of them shall have her, if I give hali iny fortune to make the match. Tho. Half a score people I never saw before, Thomas !
with these bills and drafts upon you for pay
ment, signed Martha Brady. Enter THOMAS.
Ilhit. I wish Martha Brady was at the bot
tom of the Thames! What an impudent exwhit. Sad work, Thomas !
travagant baggage, to begin her tricks already! Tho. Sad work, indeed! why would you think Send them to the devil, and say I won't pay of marrying? I knew what it would come to. farthing! Writ. Why, what is it come to?
Tho. You'll have another mob about the door. Th. It is in all in the papers.
Going. Whit. So inuch the better ; then nobody will Whit. Stay, stay, Thomas, tell them I ain very believe it.
busy, and they must come to-morrow morning. Tho. But they come to me to inquire. Stay, stay! that is promising payment. No, no, Whit. And you contradict it?
no; tell then they must stay till I am married, Tho. Whut signifies that? I was telling Lady and so they will be satisfied, and tricked into Gabble's footinan at the door just now, that it the bargain. was all a lie; and your nephew looks out of the Tho. When you are tricked, we sball all be two-pair-of-stairs window, with eyes all on fire, satisfied.
[Aside. and tells the whole story: Upon that, there
[Erit Tho. thered such a mob!
Whit. That of all dreadful things I should Whit. I shall be murdered, and have my
House think of a woman, and that woman should be a pulled down into the bargain!
widow, and that widow should be an Irish one! Tho. It is all quiet again. I told them the quem Deus vult perdere—Who have we here? young man was out of his senses, and that you Another of the family I suppose? were out of town; so they went away quietly,
[Wus. retires. and said they would come and mob you another time.
Enter Widow, as LIEUTENANT O'NEALE, Whit. Thomas, what shall I do?
seemingly fluttered, and putting up his Tho. Nothing you have done, if you will have sæord, Tuomas following. matters mend.
Whit. I am out of my depth, and you won't Tho. I hope you are not hurt, captain? lend ine vour hand to draw me out.
l'id, not at all, at all; 'tis well they run Tho. You are out of your depth to fall in away, or I should have made them run tisier; I love; swim away as fast as you can; you'll be sball teach them how to snigger, and look through drowned, if you marry;
glasses at their betters. These are your MaccaWhit. I'm frightened out of my wits. Yes, roons, as they call themselves: By iny soul, buc yes, 'tis all over with me; I must not stir out of I would have stood till I had overtaken them. my house ; but am ordered to stay to be mur- These whipper-snappers look so much more like dered in it, for aught I know. What are you girls in breeches, than those I see in petticoats, muttering, Thomas? Pr’ythee speak out, and that fait and trot, it is a pity to hurt them: The comfort me!
fair sex in London here, seem the most masculine Tho. It is all a judgment upon you; because of the two. But to business : friend, where is your brother's foolish will says, the young man your master ? must have your consent, you won't let him have Tho. There, captain; I hope he has not offendher, but will marry the widow yourself! That's ed you. the dog in the manger; you can't eat the oats, Wid. If you are impartinent, sir, you will ofand won't let those who can.
fend me. Lave the room. Whit. But I consent that he shall have both Tho. I value my life too much not to do that. the widow and the fortune, if we can get hiin What a raw-boned Tartar! I wish he had not into his right senses.
been caught and sent liere. Tho. For fear 1 should lose mine, I'll get out
[ Aside to his master, and erit. of bedlam as soon as possible; you must provide Whit. Her brother, by all that's terrible! And yourself with another servant.
as like her as two tygers! I sweat at the sight of Whit. The whole earth conspires against me! him; I'm sorry Thomas is gone.He has been You shall stay with me till I die, and then you quarrelling already. wall have a good legacy; and I won't live long, Wid. Is your name Whittol? promise you! [Knocking at the dour. Whit. My name is Whittle, not Whittol.
Wid. We shan't stand for trifles. And you Whit. • Postscript : let me huve your pity, were born and christened by the name of Tho- but not your anger.' mas? N'hit. So they told me, sir.
Wid. In answer to this love epistle, you piti. Wid. Then they told no lies, fait! so far, so ful fellow, my sister presents you with her good. (Takes out a letter.]—Do you know that tinderest wishes: and assures you, that you have, hand-writing?
as you desire, her pity, and she generously throws Whit. As well as I know this good friend of her contempt, too, into the bargain. mine, who helps me upon such occasions.
Whit. I'm infinitely obliged to her. [Shouing his right hand, and smiling. Wid. I must beg lave, in the name of all our Wid. You had better not show your teeth, sir, family, to present the same to you. will we come to the jokes- -the hand-writing is Whit. I am ditto to all the family. yours?
Wid. But as a brache of promise to any of Whit. Yes, sir, it is mine.
[Sighs. our family was never suffered without a brache Wid. Death and powder! What do you sigh into somebody's body, I have fixed upon myself for? are you ashamed or sorry for your handy- to be your operator; and I believe that you will work?
find that I have as fine a hand at this work, and Whit. Partly one, partly t'other.
will give you as little pain, as any in the three Wid. Will you be plased, sir, to rade it kingdoms. aloud, that you may know it again when you
[Sits down and loosens her knee bands. bare it?
Whit. For Heaven's sake, captain, what are Whit. (Takes his letter and reads.] Madum— you about? Wid. Would you be plased to let us know Wid. I always lovsens iny garters for the adwbat madamn you mane? for women of quality, vantage of lunging: it is for your sake as well and women of no quality, and women of all as my own; for I will be twice through your qualities, are so mixt together, that you don't body before you shall feel me once. know one from t'other, and are all called ma- Whit. What a bloody fellow it is ! I wish dams. You should always read the subscription Thomas would come in. before you open the letter.
ll'id. Come, sir, prepare yourself; you are Whil. I beg your pardon, sir. I don't like not the first, by half a score, that I have run this ceremony. (Aside.] To Mrs. Brady in Pall through and through the heart, before they knew Mall.
what was the matter with them. Wid. Now prosade-Fire and powder, but Whit. But, captain, suppose I will marry I would Whit. Sir! what's the matter?
Wid. I have not the laste objection, if you Wid. Nothing at all, sir; pray go on. recover of your wounds, Callagon O'Connor
lives very happy with my great aunt, Mrs. De
borah O'Nale, in the county of Galway; except Whit. [Reads.] Madam, as I prefer your happiness , to the indulgence of my own pas through the lungs at the Curragh: He would
a small asthma he got by my running hin
have forsaken her, if I had not stopped his Wid. I will not prefer your happiness to the perfidy, by a famous family styptic I have here. indulgence of my passions--Mr. Whittol; O ho! my little old boy, but
Whit. What shall I do? Well, sir, if I Whit. " I must confess, that I um unworthy must, I must: I'll meet you tv-morrow morning of your churins and virtues'
in Hyde-Park, let the consequence be what it
will. Wid. Very unworthy, indeed. Rade on, sir.
Wid. For fear you might forget that favour, I Whit." I have for some days had a severe must beg to be indulged with a little pushing struggle between my justice and my passion- now. I have set my heart upon it; and two
birds in hand, is worth one in the bushes, Mr. Wid. I have had no struggle at all: My jus- Whittol-Come, sir. tice and passiou are agreed.
Whit. But I have not settled my matters.
Wid. 0 we'll settle them in a trice, I warWhit. “ The former has prevailed ; and I
[Puts herself in a position. beg lave to resiyn you, with all your accom- Whit. But I don't understand the sword; I plishments, to some more deserving, though not had rather fight with pistols. more admiring servunt, than your most miser
Aid. I am very happy it is in my power to able and devoted,'—
oblige you. There, sir, take your choice: I will • THOMAS WHITTLE.' plase you if I can.
Whit. Out of the pan into the fire! there's no Wid. And miserable and devoted
putting him off. If I had chosen poison, I dare be-To the postscript; rade on.
swear he had arsenic in his pocket. Look ye,
young gentlemm, I am an old man, and you'll / shall run first; aud sure I can beat an old man get no credit by killing me; but I have a at any thing. nephew as young as yourself, and you'll get inore Neph. Permit me thus to seal my happiness; honour in facing him.
[Kisses her hand.] and be assured, that I am as Ibid. Ay, and more pleasure too -I expect sensible as I think myself undeserving of it. ample satisfaction from him, after I have done Wid. I'll tell you what, sir ; were I not sure your business. Prepare, sir !
you deserved some pains, I would not have Whit. What the devil! won't one serre your taken any pains for you: And don't imagine turn? I can't fight, and I won't fight: I'll do any now, because I have gone a little too far for the thing rather than tight. I'll marry your sister. man I love, that I shall go a little too far when My nephew shall marry her: I'll give him all my I'm your wife. Indeed I shan't: I have done fortune. What would the fellow have? Here, more than I should before I am your wife, beNephew! Thomas! murder, murder !
cause I was in despair; but I won't do as much [He flies, and she pursues. as I may when I ain your wife, though every
Irish woman is fond of imitating English faEnter Bates and NEPHEW.
Neph. Thou divine adorable woman! Neph. What's the matter, uncle ?
[Kneels and kisses her hand. Whit. Murder, that's all; That ruffian there would kill me, and eat me afterwards.
Enter WHITTLE and Bates. Neph. I'll fine a way to cool him! Come out, sir, I am as mad as yourself. I'll match you, I
Bates. Confusion !
[Aside. warrant you.
[Going out with him. Wid. I'll follow you all the world over.
Whit. [Turning to Bates.] Hey-day! I [Going after him.
am afraid his head is not right yet! he was Whit. Stay, stay, nephew : you shan't fight:
kneeling, and kissing the captain's hand. We shall be exposed all over the town; and you
[ Aside to Bates.
Bates. Take no notice; all will come about. may lose your life, and I shall be cursed from inorning to night. Do, nephew, make yourself
[Aside to Whitile. and me happy; be the olive-branch, and bring kissing better than fighting: he swears I'am as
Wid. I find, Mr. Whittol, your family loves peace into my family. Return to the widow. like my sister as two pigeons. I could excuse I will give you my consent, and your fortune; his raptures, for I would rather fight the best and a fori une for the widow ! five thousand friend I have, than slobber and salute hiin à la pounds! Do persuade bim, Mr. Bates.
Françoise. Butes. Do sir; this is a very critical point of your life. I know you love lier; 'tis the only inethod to restore us all to our senses.
Enter Sir PATRICK O'NEALE. Neph. I must talk in private first with this hot young gentleman.
Sir Pat. I hope, Mr. Whizzle, you'll excuse N'id. As private as you plase, sir.
my coming back to give you an answer, without Whit. Take their weapons away, Mr. Bates : having any to give. I hear a grate dale of news and do you follow me to my study to witness my about myself, and came to know if it be true. proposal. It is all ready, and only wants signing. They say my son is in London, when he tells me Coine along, come along !
(Erit. himself by letter here, that he's at Limerick; Bates. Victoria, victoria ! give me your and I have been with my daughter to tell her swords and pistols: And now do your worst, the news, but she would not stay at home to reyou spirited, loving, young couple; I could leap ceive it, so I am come-0 gra ma chree, my out of my skin!
[Erit. little din ou sil craw, what have we got here? : Tho. (Peeing in.) Joy, joy to you, ye fond, piece of mummery ! Here is my son and daughcharming pair! the fox is caught, and the young ter too, fait! What, are you wearing the lambs may skip and play. I leave you to your breeches, Pat, to see how they become you transports !
[Èxit. when you are Mrs. Weezel? Neph. O my charming widow, what a day Wid. I beg your pardon for that, sir! I wear have we gone through!
them before marriage, because I think they beWid. I would go through ten times come a woman better than after. much to deceive an old amorous spark like Whit. What, is not this your son? your uncle, to purchase a young one like his
Sir Pat. No, but it is my daugbter, and that's Neph. I listened at the door all this last scene; the same thing. my heart was agitated with ten thousand fears. Wid. And your niece, sir, which is better than Suppose my uncle had been stout, and drawn either. his sword ?
Whit. Mighty well! and I suppose you have Wid. I should have run away as he did. | not lost your wits, young man ! When two cowards meet, the struggle is, who Neph.'1 sympathize with you, sir; we lose
them together, and found them at the same if you won't trouble me with your afflictions, I time,
shallüsincerely rejoice at your felicity. Whit. Here's villainy! Mr. Bates, give me Neph. It would be a great abatement of my the paper. Not a farthing shall they have, till present joy, could I believe that this lady sbould the law gives it them.
be assisted in her happiness, or be supported in Bates. We'll cheat the law, and give it them her afflictions, by any one but her lover and
[Gives Nephew the paper. husband. Whit, He may take his own, but he shan't Sir Pat. Fine notions are fine tings, but a fine have a sixpence of the five thousand pounds Iestate gives every ting bu: ideas; and them too, proinised him.
if you will appale to those who help you to spend Bates. Witness, good folks, he owns to the it-What say you, widow? promise.
Wid. By your and their permission, I will Sir Pat. Fait ! I'll witness dat, or any thing tell my mind to this good company; and for fear else in a good cause.
my words should want ideas too, I will add an Whit. What! am I choused again?
Irish tune, that may carry off a bad voice and Bates. Why should not my friend be choused bad matter. out of a little justice for the first time? Your hard usage has sharpened your nephew's wits;
SONG therefore beware, don't play with edge-tools you'll only cut your fingers.
A widow bewitched with her passion, Sir Pat. And your trote, too: which is all
Though Irish, is now quite ashamed, one: Therefore, to make all azy, marry my To think that she's so out of fashion, daughter first, and then quarrel with her af
To marry, and then to be tamed : terwards; that will be in the natural course of
'Tis love, the dear joy, things.
That old fashioned boy, Whit. Here, Thomas ! where are you?
Has got in my breast with his quirer ;
The blind urchin he
Struck the Cush la maw cree,
And a husband secures me for ever ! Whit. Here are fine doings! I am deceived,
Ye fair ones I hope will ercuse me ; tricked, and cheated !
Though vulgar, pray do not ubuse me; Tho. I wish you joy, sir; the best thing could I cannot beconie a fine lady, have happened to you; and, as a faithful ser
O love has bewitched Widow Brady. rant, I have done my best to check you.
Whit. To check me! Tho. You were galloping full speed, and down Ye critics, to murder so willing, hill, too! and, if we had not laid hold of the Pray see all our errors with blindness ; bridle, being a bad jockey, you would have hung For once change your method of killing, by your horns in the stirrup, to the great joy of
And kill a fond widow with kindness. the whole town.
If you look so severe,
In a fit of despair,
You know I've the art, a long while, turn about, and be wise. He has
To be twice through your heart, got the woman and his estate. Give them your blessing, which is not worth much, and live like Before I can once make you feel, sirs. a Christian for the future.
Brother soldiers, I hope you'll protect me, Whit. I will if I can: But I can't look at
Nor let cruel critics dissect me; them ; I can't bear the sound of my voice, nor
To favour my cause be but ready, the sight of my own face. Look ye,
I am dis- And grateful you'll find Widow Brudy. tressed and distracted! and can't come to yet! I will be reconciled, if possible: but don't let Ye leaders of dress and the fashions, me see or hear from you, if you would have me Who gallop post-haste to your ruin, forget and forgive you, I shall never lift up my Whose taste has destroyed all your passions, bead again!
Pray what do you think of my wooing? Wid. I hope, Sir Patrick, that my preferring You call it damned low, the nephew to the uncle will meet with your Your heads and arms so,
[Mimicks them. approbation; Though we have not so much So listless, so loose, and so lazy; money, we shall bave more love; one mind, But
what and half a purse in marriage, are much bet- That I cannot do ? ter than two minds and two purses. I did | O fie my dear craters be azy! not come to England, nor keep good company, Ye patriots and courtiers so hearty, ull it was too late to get rid of my country To speech it, and vote for your parly; prejudices.
For once be both constant and steady, Sir Pat. You are out of my hands, Pat; so, And vote to support Widow Brady.