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aided by the fagacity of your fon Caleb, I owe my discovery

Ald. Look you, don't think to abuse my lady. Fam one of the

Puf Quorum--I know it, Mr Alderman ; but I mean to serve your worship, by humbling a little the vanity of your wife.

L. Pen Come along, chuck I'll not stay to hear the rascality of the fellow.

Puff. Oh, my lady Pentweazel, correct the severity of that frown, left you should have more of the Medusa than the Medicis in

your

face. L. Pen. Saucy jackanapes !

Puff What, thens I have quite loft my city acquaintance; why, I've promised all my friends tickets for my lord mayor's ball through your ladyship’s inte. reft.

L. Pen. My interest, indeed, for such a Puf. If Blowbladder-street has any charms—Sir Ma'am-not a ftep—The fineft gentleman! ha, ha, ha!

And what can you say for yourself, you cowardly ill-looking rascal ? [to Canto.] Desert your friend at the first pinch---your ally-your partner No apology, Sir, I have done with you. From poverty and shame I took you ; to that I restore you.

* Your crime • be your punishment.' [Turning to the audience.] Could I be as secure from the censure of this assembly, as I am safe from the resentment of Dupe, Novice, Squ nder, from the alluring baits of my amorous city lady, and the dangerous combination of my false friend, I should be happy.

'Tis from your sentence I expect my fate;
Your voice alone my triumph can complete.

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THE

UPHOLSTERER;

OR,

WHAT NEW S?

IN TWO A C T S.

Br MR MU R P Hr.

DRAMATIS PERSONA.

MEN.

Covent Garden. Quidnunc, the upholsterer, Mr Dunfall. Pamphlet,

Mr Shuter, Razor, a barber,

Mr Woodward. Feeble,

Mr Hayes. Belmour,

Mr White. Rovewell,

Mr Davis. Codicil, a lawyer,

Edinburgh, 1872.
Mr blollingsworth.
Mr Johnson.
Mr Ward.
Mr Charieris.
Mr Taylor.
Mr Simpson.

Brisk,

Watchman,

Mr Weller.

Harriet,
Termagant,
Maid to Feeble,

WOMEN.

Miss Miller.
Miss Elliot.
Miss Cockayne.

Mrs Woods.
Mrs Kniver on.
Mrs Mountfort.

E.

P R O L OG U
W

'HEN first, in falling Greece's evil hour,
When ihe fierce man of Macedon began
Of a new monarchy to form "he plan;
Each Greek -(as fam'd Demosthenes relates)
Politically mad! ---Wou'd rave of states !
And help'd to form, where'er the mob could meet,
An Arcopagus in ev'ry Atreet.

What

}

What news, what news! was their eternal cry:
Is Philip sick!*-then foar'd their spirits high;-
Philip is well !-dejection in each eye.
Athenian coblers join'd in deep debate,
While gold in tecret undermin'd the State;
Till wisdom's bird the vulture's prey was made,
And the fword gleam'd in Academus' shade.

Now modern Philips threaten this our land,
What say Britannia's Tons ?-along the Strand
What news ? ye cry with the same passion (mit i.
And there at least you rival Attic wit.
A parliament of porters here shall mule
On ftate affairs" swall'wing a taylor's news ;
For

way and means no starv'd projector Neeps;
And ev'ry shop some mighty statesman keeps :
He Britain's foes, like Bobadil, can kill:-
Supply th' EXCHEQUER, and neglect his tillo
In ev'ry ale house legislators meet ;
And parriots settle kingdoms in th Fleet.

To show this phrenzy in its genuine light,
A modern newsmonger appears to night :
Trick'd out from Addison's accomplish'd page, ,
Behold! th' Upholsterer ascends the stage.

No minister such trials e'er hath stood;
He turns a BANKRUPT for the public good!
Undone himself, yet full of England's glory!
A politician!. neither whig nor tory-
Nor can ye high or low the Quixote call ;
“ He's knight o'th' fire, and represents ye all."

As for the bard, monto you he yields his plan;
For wel he knows, you're candid where you can. .
One only praise he claims,- -no party-stroke
Here turns a public character to joke.
His Panacea is for all degrees,
For all have more or less of this disease:
Whatever his success, of this he's fire,
There's' merit even to attempt the cure. .

Vide the first Philippic.

ACT I.
SCENE, Belmour's Lodging. -
Enter Belmour beating Brisk. -

6 BRISK
R Belmour ! Let me die, Sir-as I hope:

to be saved, Sira "Belo Sirrah! Rogue ! Villain !

-I'll teach you, 2.3.

GI

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• I will, you rascal, to speak irreverently of her I i love.

. Br. As I am a finner, Sir, I only meant

Bel. Only meant ! You could not mean it, jacke • anapes—you had no meaning, booby

Br. Why, no, Sir—that's the very thing, Sir-I • had no meaning Bel. Then, firrah, I'll make

you
know

your mean• ing for the future.

Br. Yes, Sir--to be sure, Sir ; and yet upon my • word, if you would be but a little cool, Sir, you'd o find I'm not much to blame.- -Besides, master, you • can't conceive the good it would do your health, if you will but keep your temper a little.

Bel. Mighty well, Sir, give your advice. Br. Why, really now, this fame love hath metamor... phofed us both very strangely, master :—for, to be • free, here have we been at this work these fix weeks, * -stark-staring mad in love with a couple of baggages not worth a groat ;-and yet, heav'n help us ! they have as much pride as comes to the share of a lady of quality before she has been caught in the fact

with a handsome young fellow,-or indeed after she • has been caught, for that matter.

Bel. You won't have done, rascal Br. In short, my young mistress and her maid have as much pride and poverty as-as-no matter what ; they have the devil and all-—when at the same time

every body knows the old broken upholsterer, Miss • Harriet's father, might give us all he has in the world, • and not eat the worse pudding on a Sunday for it.

Bel. Impious, execrable atheist! What! detract • from Hear'n? I'll reform your notions, I will, you • faucy

[Beats him. Br. Nay, but my dear Sir--a little patience-not. • so hard

Enter Rovewell, and Belmour, meeting. Rove. Belmour, your servant - What, at logger. •- heads with my old friend Brisk?'

Bel. Confusion:!-Mr Rovewell, your servant--this . is your doing, hang-dog.'-Jack Rovewell, I am glad to see thee.

Rovea

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Rove. Brifk used to be a good servant-he has not • been tampering with any of his master's girls, has he?

Bel. Do you know, Rovewell, that he has had the • impudence to talk detractingly and profanely of my « mistress ?

Br. For which, Sir, I have suffered unhumanly 6 and most unchristian-like, I assure you.

« Bell. Will you leave prating, booby? Rove. Well but, Belmour, where does she live?

-I'm but just arrived, you know, and I'll and « beat

up

her quarters,
Bel. [Half afde] Beat up her quarters !

[Looks at him smilingly, then half aside.
« Favours to none, to all she smiles extends;
• Oft she rejects, but never once offends.

[Stands musing. Rove. Hey! what, fallen into a reverie !--Prithee, « Brisk, what does all this mean?

Brisk. Why, Sir, you must know I am over head (and ears in love. Rove. But I mean your master; what ails him ?

Brisk. That's the very thing I'm going to tell you, į Sir-As I said, Sir-I am over head and ears in love ' with a whimsical queer kind of a piece here in the

neighbourhood ; and so nothing can serve my master,

but he must fall in love with the mistressLook at • him now, Sir : [Belmour continues

mufing and muttering to himself. Rov. Ha, ha, ha! - Poor Belmour, I pity thee with all

my

heart · [Strikes him on the shoulder, then ludicrously repeats, * Ye gods, annihilate both space and time,

• And make two lovers happy. Bell. My dear Rovewell, such a girl!-Ten thou-• fand cupids play about her mouth, you rogue.

Rove. Ten thousand pounds had better play about • her pocket.-What fortune has the ?"

« Br. Heaven help us, not much to crack of.

Bell. Not much to crack off, Mr Brazen !-.Pri« thee, Rovewell, how can you be so ungenerous as to \ ask fuch a question? You know I don't mind for: tune; though by the way she has an uncle who is de

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