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your servant. You'll think about it, and let's know your mind when I come back. -Cod, I don't care whether she likes me or no. I don't like her half so well as Mally Pengrouse. Well, your servant, Miss Suck.
[Exit Tim. Jenny. Was there ever such an unlick'd cub ? I don't tlink his fortune a sufficient reward for sacrificing my person to such a booby; but as he has money enough, it shall go hard but I please myself: I fear I was a little. too backward with my gentleman; but, however, a favourable answer to his laft question will foon fettle matters.
Enter Jenkins. Jenk. Now, Jenny, what news, child? are things fix'd; are you ready for the nuptial knot ? Jenny. We are in
way : I thought to have • quicken'd my fwain's advances by a little affected coy- . 6 nefs, but the trap would not take :' I expect him back in a minute, and then leave it to my management.
Fenk. Where is he gone?
Jenk. Woman ! he neither knows nor is known by any body here. What can this mean? no counterplot ? but, pox, that's impossible ! you have not blabb’d, Jenny?
Fenny. My intereft would prevent me.
Fenk. Upon that fecurity any woman may, I think, be trusted. I must after him tho'.
[Exit. Jenny. I knew the time when Jenkins would not have left me so haftily : " 'tis odd that the fame caufe that
increases the passion in one fex, should destroy it in " the other ; the reason is above my reach, but the fact • I am a fevere witness of.' Heigh ho ! Enter Hartop, Sir Penurious, and Sir Gregory
Gazette. Sir Pen. And so, you knight, says he-you know, knight, what low dogs the ministers were then; how does your potma pot, you, that they put over the fire to boil broth and meat in-you have seen a pot, you knight
-how does your pot boil these troublefome times ? hey you! Ecod, my lord, says he, I don't know, I seldom go into my kitchen. A kitchen, you knight, is a place
where they dress victuals, roast and boil, and so forth :Ecod, fays he, I seldom go into the kitchen-But I fuppose, the scum is uppermost ftill! Hey, you knight! what, ecod, hey! But where's your fon, Sir Gregory?
Sir Greg. Good now, good now, where's Tim, Miss Sukey ? lack-a-day, what's become of Tim?
Jenny. Gone out a tiny bit, he'll be here presently.
Sir Greg. Wonderful ! good now, good now! Well, and how, Miss Sukey–has Tim ? has he? Well, and what, you have wonderful?
Enter a Servant with a Letter. Serv. Sir, I was commanded to deliver this into your own hands, by Mr Jenkins.
Sir Pen. Hey, you! what, a letter ? ecod so! Any answer, you ? hey!
Sere. None, Sir. Sir Greg. Lack-a-day, Sir Penurious is busy! Well, Miss, and did Tim do the thing? did he please you? Come now, tell us the whole story: wonderful ! rare news for dame Winny! ha, Tim's father's own fon!: But come, whisper-ay. Sir Pen. “ I have only time to tell you
your « scheme is blafted : this inftant I encounter'd Mrs Pe. ış nelope Trifle, with her niece; they will soon be with " you.”-So-then, all's over ; but let's see what expedition will do-Well, you knight, hey! what, have they settled? Is the girl willing?
Sir. Greg. Good now, good now! right as my leg !: ah, Tim, little did I think-But, lack-a-day, I wonder where the boy is ! let's seek him. Sir Pen. Agreed, you knight; hey, come.
Énter Jenkins. Sir Greg. Lack-a-day, here's Mr Jenkins. Good now, have you
seen Tim ? Jenk. Your curiosity shall be immediately satisfied; but I must first have a word with Sir Penurious.
Sir Pen. Well you ! wkat, hey!
Jenk. Better than you could hope ; your rival is dis.. posed of.
Har. Dispos'd of! how?
Jenk. Marry'd by this time, you rogue ! The woman that wanted him was no other than Mally Pen..
any news, Dick ?
grouse, who trudg’d it up all the way after him, as Tim Jays : I have recommended them to my chaplain, and -before this the business is done. Har. Bravissimo! you rogue ! but how shall I get
off with the knight? Jenk. Nay, that must be
contrivance. Har. I have it-Suppose I was to own the whole defign to Sir Gregory, as our plan has not succeeded with his son ; and, as he seems to have a tolerable regard for me, it is possible he may affift my fcheme on Sir Penu, rious.
Fenk. 'Tis worth trying, however : but he comes. Sir Greg. Well
, good now, Mr Jenkins, have you seen Tim ? I can't think where the boy
Har. 'Tis now time, Sir Gregory, to set you clear with respect to fome particulars : I am now no longer Sir Penurious Trifle, but your friend and relation Jack Hartop
Sir Greg. Wonderful! good now, good now, cousia Hartop ! as I am a living man-hey-Well, but, good How ! how, Mr Jenkins, hey?
Jenk. The story, Sir Gregory, is rather too long to tell you now : but in two words, My friend Hartop has very long had a passion for Miss Trifle, and was apprehenfive your fon’s application would destroy his views ; which, in order to defeat, he assumed the character of Sir Penurious : but he is so captivated with your integrity and friendship, that he rather chooses to forego his own interest, than interrupt the happiness of your son.
Sir Greg. Wonderful! good now, good now, that's kind! who could have thought it, cousin Hartop ? lacka-day! Well, but where's Tim ? hey, good now! and who are you?
Jenk. This, Sir, is Jenny, the handmaid of the house.
Sir Greg. Wonderful! a peftilent hulley! Ah, Hartop, you are a wag ! a pize of your pots, and your royal oaks ! lack-a-day, who could ha thought-ah, Jenny, you're a-But where’s Tim?
Enter Sir Gregory's Servant. Seru. Wounds, master! never stir alive if Master Tim has na gone and marry'd Mally Pengrouse.
Sir Greg. Wonderful ! how, firrah, how! good now, good now, cousin Hartop-Mally Pengrouse! who the dickens is she?
Serv. Matter Timothy's sweetheart in Cornwal.
Sir Greg. And how came she here ? lack-a-day, cousin!
Serv. She tramp'd it up after master. Master Timothy is without, and says as how they be marry'd: I wanted him to come in, but he's afraid you'll knock’n down.
Sir Greg. Knock’n down! Good now, let me come at him ! l’ll-ah, rogue ! Lack-a-day, cousin, few me where he is! I'll
Har. Moderate your fury, good Sir Gregory ; cónfider, it is an evil without a remedy.
Sir Greg. But what will dame Winny fay? Good now, such a disparagement to--and then, what will Sir Penurious fay? lack-a-day, I am almost distracted! And you, you tubberly dog! why did not you-I'llah, cousin Hartop, coulin Hartop! good now, good now!
Har. Dear Sir, be calm ; this is no such surprising matter : we have such instances in the newspapers every day.
Sir Greg. Good now! no, cousin, no.
Har. Indeed, Sir Gregory, it was but last week that Lord Lofty's fon marry'd his mother's maid; and Lady Betty Forward run away, not a month ago, with her uncle's butler.
Sir Greg. Wonderful ! what, in the news ? Good now, that's some comfort, however; but what will Sir Penurious
Har. As to that, leave him to me ; I have a project to prevent his laughing at you, I'll warrant.
Sir Greg. But how? how, cousin Hartop, how ?
Har. And would you, in return, serve me in a circumstance that can't injure yourself?
Sir Greg. Good now, to be sure, cousin. Har. Will you, then, permit me to assume the figure of your son, and so pay my addreises to Miss Trife? I was pretty happy in the imitation of her father ; and,
if I could impofe upon your fagacity, I shall find less
Sir Greg. Good now! Tim ! ah, you could not touch
Tim. I could not help it now, fath' and fole : but if you'll forgive me this time, I'll never do foʻno more.
Sir Greg. Well, well, if thee can''t forgive thyself,
Har. Oh, Sir! if you are fatisfy'd, I am rewarded.
Enter Waiter. Wait. Sir, Mrs Penelope Trifle, with her niece, bie.“ ing come to town, and hearing your worship was in the house, would be glad to pay you their compliments.
Sir Greg. Lack-a-day! wonderful ! here we are all topfy-türvey again! what can be done now, cousin Har. top?
Har. Dick! Mew the ladies in here; bat delay them a little! The luckiest incident in the world, Sir Gregory! If you will be kind enough to lend Jenkins your drels, and Master Timothy will lend me his, I'll make up matters in a moment.
Sir Greg. Ay, ay, coufin.
Har. No, no s step into the next room a minute,
Enter Mrs Penelope and Suck; with Waiter.
you choose refreshment?
Mrs Pen. Fie! fie! niece! is that liquor for a young lady? Don't disparage your family and breeding. The perfon is to be born that ever saw me touch
any thing stronger than water till I was three-and-twenty.
Suck. Troth, aunt, that's so long ago, that I think