Har. I wish they were in your guts with all my heart! I must quit the field, I find. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now! a passionate man! Lack-a-day, I am glad the [Exit HARTOP. | pope is not to have Gibraltar though. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I-SIR GREGORY, and TIM reading Come, Tim, settle my cravat; good now, let's news to him, discovered. be a little decent.-Remember your best bow to your mistress, Tim. Tim. CONSTANTINOPLE, N. S. Nov. 15, the Grand Seignior Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! good now, Tim, the politics, child and read the stars, and the dashes, and the blanks, as I taught you, Tim. : Tim. Yes, father-We can assure our readers, that the D-dash is to go to F blank and that a certain noble L-is to resign his p-e in the t- −y in order to make room for the two three stars. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now! great news, Tim! Ah, I knew the two three stars would come in play one time or other. London Evening knows more than any of Well, child, well. Tim. From the D. J. Sir Gre. Ay, that's the Dublin Journal. on, Tim. This them. Go Tim. Last Saturday, a gang of highwaymen broke into an empty house on Ormond quay, and stripped it of all the furniture. Sir Gre. Lack-a-day, wonderful! To what a height these rogues are grown! Tim. The way to Mr Keith's chapel, is turn off your Sir Gre. Psha! skip that, Tim; I know that road as well as the doctor: 'tis in every time. Tim. J. Ward, at the Cat and Gridiron, Petticoat lane, makes tabby all over for people inclined to be crooked; and if he was to have the universal world for making a pair of stays, he could not put better stuff in thein Sir Gre. Good now; where's that, Tim? Tim. At the Cat and Gridiron, father. Sir Gre. I'll minute that: All my lady Isard's children, good now, are inclined to crooked. Enter Drawer. Tim. Yes, father! but must not I kiss Miss Suck? Pray, is cousin Sir Gre. Lack-a-day, ay, ay. Hartop come along? Jenk. I have not seen him; but I fancy I had better introduce my neighbours. Sir Gre. Good now, would you be so kind? [Exit JENKINS.] Stand behind me, Tim-Pull down your ruffles, child. Tim. But, father, won't Miss Suck think me bold, if I kiss her chops the first time? Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! no, Tim, no. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ha, Tim, had you but seen me attack dame Winny! But times aren't as they were. Good now, we were another kind of folks in those days; stout hearty smacks, that would ha' made your mouth water again; and the mark stood upon the pouting lip, like the print upon a pound of butter. But the master-misses of the present age go, lack-a-day, as gingerly about it, as if they were afraid to fill their mouths with the paint upon their mistresses' cheeks. Ah, the days I have scen! Tim. Nay, father, I warrant, if that's all, I kiss her hearty enow, fath and sole! Sir Gre. Hush, Tim, hush! Stand behind me, child. Enter HARTOP as SIR PENURIOUS TRIFLE, and JENNY as MISS SUKEY, and JENKINS. Sir Gre. Sir Penurious, I am overjoyed!Good now! Har. Sir Gregory, I kiss your hand. My daughter Suck. Sir Gre. Wonderful!--Miss, I am proud to be-Son Tim-Sir Penurious-Best bow, child— Miss Suck Draw. Sir, Mr Jenkins begs to speak with you. Sir Gre. Good now; desire him to walk in. Enter JENKINS. Jenk. I thought it might not be improper to prepare you for a visit from sir Penurious Trifle. I saw him and his daughter alight at the apothecary's above. Sir Gre. What, they are come? Wonderful! Very kind, very kind, very kind, indeed, Mr Tim. An't that right, father? [Kisses her. Sir Gre. Good now, good now! I am glad to see you look so well. You keep your own, sir Penurious. Har. Ay, ay, stout enough, sir Gregory; stout enough, brother knight; hearty as an oak. Hey, Dick? Gad, now I talk of an oak, I'll tell you a story of an oak. It will make you die with laughing. Hey, you Dick, you have heard it; shall I tell it sir Gregory? Jen. Though I have heard it so often, yet there is something so engaging in your manner of telling a story, that it always appears new. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now; I love a comical story. Pray, sir Penurious, let's | you, what do they do, but, ecod, they prosecuted have it.-Mind, Tim; mind, child. Tim Yes, father; fath and sole, I love a choice story to my heart's blood! Har. You, knight, I was at Bath last summer -a water that people drink when they are ill. You have heard of the bath, Dick? Hey, you? Tim. Yes, fath, I know Bath; I was there in my way up. Sir Gre. Hush, Tin; good now, hush! Har. There's a coffee-house, you— --a place where people drink coffee and tea, and read the news. Sir Gre. Pray, sir Penurious, how many papers may they take in? Har. Psha! damn the news! mind the story. Sir Gre. Good now, good now! a hasty man, Tim! Har Pox take you both! I have lost the story-Where did I leave off? Hey-you Dick. Tim. About coffee and tea. Har. Right, right! True, true! So, ecod, you knight, I used to breakfast at this coffee-house every morning; it cost me eight-pence, though, and I had always a breakfast at home-no matter for that, though! there I breakfasted, you, Dick, ecod, at the same table with lord Tom Truewit-You have heard of Truewit, you knight? a droll dog! You, Dick, he told us the story, and made us die with laughing. You have heard of Charles II. you knight; he was son of Charles I. king here, in England, that was beheaded by Oliver Cromwell: So, what does Charles I. you knight, do? But he fights Noll at Worcester, a town you have heard of, not far off: but all would not do, you: ecod, Noll made him scamper, made him run, take to his heels, you knight. Truewit told us the story, made us die with laughing. I always break fasted at the coffee-house; it cost me eightpence, though I had a breakfast at home-So what does Charles do, but hid himself in an oak, an oak-tree, you, in a wood, called Boscobel, from two Italian words, Bosco Bello, a fine wood, you; and off he marches: but old Noll would not let him come home; no, says he, you don't come here. Lord Tom told us the story; made us die with laughing; it cost me eightpence, though I had a breakfast at home. So, you knight, when Noll died, Monk there, you, afterwards Albemarle, in the north, brought him back. So, you, the cavaliers, you have heard of them? they were friends to the Stuarts. What did they do, ecod, you Dick! But they put up Charles in a sign, the royal oak; you have seen such signs at country ale-houses: so, ecod, you, what does a puritan do?-the puritans were friends to Noll-but he puts up the sign of an owl in the ivy-bush, and underneath he writes, This is not the royal oak. You have seen writings under signs, you knight? Upon this, says the royalists, ecod, this must not be: so, the poor puritan; but they made him change his sign, though. And you, Dick, how d'ye think they changed it? Ecod, he puts up the royal oak, and underneath he writes, This is not the owl in the ivy-bush.' It made us all die with laughing. Lord Tom told the story. I always breakfasted at the coffee-house, though it cost me eightpence, and I had a breakfast at home; hey, you knight? What, Dick, hey? Sir Gre. Good now, good now! Wonderful! Tim. A choice tale, fath! Jen. Oh, sir Penurious is a most entertaining companion, that must be allowed. Sir Gre. Good now, ay, ay, a merry man! But, lack-a-day, would not the young lady choose a little refreshinent after her ride? Some tea, or some Har. Hey, you knight! No, no; we intend to dine with thee, man. Well, you, Tim, what dost think of thy father-in-law that is to be, hey? A jolly cock, you, Tim; hey, Dick? But, prithee, boy, what dost do with all this tawdry tinsel on? that hat and waistcoat? trash, knight, trash! more in thy pocket, and less in thy clothes; hey, you Dick? ecod, you knight, I'll make you laugh: I went to London, you, Dick, last year, to call in a mortgage; and what does me, I, Dick, but take a trip to a coffee-house in St Martin's-lane; in comes a French fellow forty times as fine as Tim, with his muff and parlevous, and his Frances; and his head, you knight, as white with powder, ecod, you, as a twelfth cake: and who the devil d'ye think, Dick, this might be, hey, you knight? Sir Gre. Good now, an ambassador, to be sure. Har. Ecod, you knight, nor better nor worse than Mynheer Vancaper, a Dutch figure-dancer at the opera house in the Haymarket. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now! Har. Psha! Pox, prithee, Tim, nobody dresses now; all plain: look at me, knight; I am in the tip of the mode; now am I in full dress; hey, Dick? Jen. You, sir, don't want the aid of dress; but in Mr Gazette, a little regard to that particular is but a necessary compliment to his mistress, Har. Stuff, Dick, stuff! my daughter, knight, has had otherguess breeding. Hey, you, Suck, come forward. Plain as a pike-staff, knight; all as nature made her; hey, Tim? no flams. Prithee, Tim, off with thy lace, and burn it; 'twill help to buy the licence; she'll not like thee a bit the better for that; hey, Suck? but you, knight; ecod, Dick, a toast and tankard would not be amiss after our walk; hey, you? Sir Gre. Good now, good now! What you will, sir Penurious. Har. Ecod, that's hearty, you! but we won't part the young couple, hey? I'll send Suck some bread and cheese in; hey, knight? at her, Tim. Come, Dick; come, you knight. ever tell you my courtship, hey, Dick? make you laugh. Jen. Not, as I remember. Sir Gre. Lack-a-day, let's have it. Har. You know my wife was blind, knight! Did I Jenny. Dree or vour mile. 'twill you, Sir Gre. Good now, wonderful! not I. Har. Blind as a beetle when I married her, knight; hey, Dick? she was drowned in our orchard. Maid Bess, knight, went to market, you, Dick; and wife rambled into the orchard, and souse dropped into the fish-pond. We found her out next day; but she was dead as a herring; no help for that, Dick; buried her, though, hey, you? She was only daughter to sir Tristram Muckworm, you; rich enough, you, hey? Ecod, you, what does she do, you, but she falls in love with young Sleek, her father's chaplain, hey, you? Upon that, what does me, I, but slips on domine's robes, you, passed myself upon her for him, and we were tacked together, you, knight, hey, ecod? though I believe she never liked ine: but what signifies that, hey, Dick? she was rich, you. But come, let's leave the children together. Sir Gre. Sir, I wait on you. Har. Nay, pray Sir Gre. Good now, good now, 'tis impossible. Tim. That's a good long walk, fath! Jenny. I make nothing of it, and back again. Jenny. [Whistles. [Sings. Tim. You have a rare pipe of your own, miss. Jenny. I can sing loud enough, if I have a mind; but father don't love singing. Tim. Like enow. [Whistles. Jenny. And I an't overfond of whistling. Tim. Hey! ay, like enow: and I am a bitter bad singer. Jenny. Hey! ay, like enough. Tim. Pray, Miss Suck, did ever any body make love to you before? Jenny. Before when? Tim. Before now. Jenny. What if I won't tell you? Tim. Why, then, you must let it alone, fath and sole. Jenny. Like enough. Jenny. Who? Tim. Why, you. Could you like me for a sweetheart, Miss Suck? Jenny. I don't know. Tim. Mayhap, somebody may ha' got your Jenny. And what then? Har. Pox of ceremony! You, Dick, hey? Ecod, knight, I'll tell you a story. One of our ambassadors in France, you, a devilish polite fellow reckoned, Dick; ecod, you, what does the king of France do, but, says he, I'll try the man-good-will already? ners of this fine gentleman: so, knight, going into a coach, together, the king would have my lord go first: oh, an't please your majesty, I can't indeed; you, hey, Dick? Upon which, what does me, the king, but he takes his arm thus, you, Dick; am I king of France, or you? Is it my coach, or yours? And so pushes him in thus, bey, Dick? Sir Gre. Good now, good now! he, he, hc! Har. Ecod, Dick, I believe I have made a mistake here; I should have,gone in first; hey, Dick? Knight, ecod, you, beg pardon. Yes; your coach, not mine; your house, not mine; hey, knight? Sir Gre. Wonderful! A merry man, Mr Jenkins. [Exeunt the two knights and JEN. Tim. Father and cousin are gone, fath and sole! Jenny. I fancy my lover is a little puzzled how to begin. Tim. How-fath and sole, I don't know what to say.-How d'ye do, Miss Suck! Jenny. Pretty well, thank you. Tim. Then? Hey, I don't know. But if you could fancy me Jenny. For what? Tim. For your true lover- Tim. Then! Hey! Why, fath, we may chance to be married, if the old folks agree together. Jenny. And suppose I won't be married to you? Tim. Nay, Miss Suck, I can't help it, fath and sole. But father and mother bid me come acourting; and if you won't ha' me, I'll tell father SO. Jenny. You are in a woundy hurry, methinks. Enter Waiter. Wait. There's a woman without wants to speak with Mr Timothy Gazette. Tim. That's I. I am glad on't. Well, Miss Suck, your servant. You'll think about it; and let's know your mind when I come back. Cod, Tim. You have had a choice walk. 'Tis a rare I don't care whether she likes me or no. I don't day, fath and sole ! Jenny. Yes; the day's well enough. Tim. Is your house a good way off here? VOL. III. like her half so well as Mally PengrouseWell, your servant, Miss Suck. Y [Exit TIM, man. Jen. Woman! he neither knows, nor is known, by any body here. What can this mean? No counter-plot? But, pox, that's impossible! You have not blabbed, Jenny? Jenny. My interest would prevent mc. Enter HARTOP as SIR PENURIOUS, and SIR -you Sir Gre. 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 son! But come, whisper ay. Har. I have only time to tell you, that your scheme is blasted: this instant I encountered Mrs Penelope Trifle, with her niece; they will soon be with you.' So, then, all is over; but let us see what expedition will do-Well, you knight, hey? what, have they settled?-Is the girl willing? Sir Gre. Good now, good now! right as my leg! ab, Tim, little did I think-But, lack-aday, I wonder where the boy is! let us seek him. Har. Agreed, you knight; hey, come. Enter JENKINS. Sir Gre. Lack-a-day, here's Mr Jenkins.— Good now, have you seen Tim? Jen. Your curiosity shall be immediately satisfied; but I must first have a word with sir Penurious. Har. Well you!--what, hey?—any news, Dick? Jen. Better than you could hope; your rival is disposed of. Hur. Disposed of! how? Jen. Married by this time, you rogue!-The woman that wanted him was no other than Mally Pengrouse, who trudged it up all the way after him, as Tim says: I have recommended them to my chaplain, and before this the business is donc. Hur. Bravissimo, you rogue! but how shall I get off with the knight? Jen. Nay, that must be your contrivance. Har. And so, you knight, says heknow, knight, what low dogs the ministers were, then: how does your pot-a 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 troublesome times? hey you! Ecod, Har. I have it-Suppose I was to own the my lord, says he, I don't know, I seldom go into whole design to sir Gregory, as our plan has not my kitchen. A kitchen, you knight, is a place succeeded with his son; and, as he seems to where they dress victuals, roast and boil, and so have a tolerable regard for me, it is possible forth: Ecod, says he, I seldom go into the kitch-he may assist my scheme on sir Penurious. en--But I suppose, the scum is uppermost still! Hey, you knight! what, ecod, hey? But where's your son, sir Gregory? Sir Gre. Good now, good now -Where is Tin, Miss Sukey? lack-a-day! what is become of Tim? Jenny. Gone out a tiny bit; he'll be here presently. Sir Gre. 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. Ser. Sir, I was commanded to deliver this into your own hands, by Mr Jenkins. Har. Hey, you! what, a letter? ecod so! answer, you? hey? Ser. None, sir. Jen. 'Tis worth trying, however. comes. But he Sir Gre. Well, good now, Mr Jenkins, bave you seen Tim? I can't think where the boy Har. 'Tis now time, sir Gregory, to set you clear with respect to some particulars. I am no longer sir Penurious Trifie, but your friend and relation, Jack Hartop. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now, cousin Hartop! as I am a living man-heyWell, but, good now! how, Mr Jenkins, hey? Jen. 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 apprehensive your son'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 Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now, that is kind! who could have thought it, cousin Hartop? lack-a-day! Well, but where's Tim? hey, good now! and who are you? Jen. This, sir, is Jenny, the handmaid of the house. Sir Gre. Wonderful! a pestilent hussy!Ah, Hartop, you are a wag! a pize of your pots, and your royal oaks! lack-a-day, who could ba' thought- ah, Jenny, you're a—) -But where's Tim? Enter SIR GREGORY's servant Ser. Wounds, master! never stir alive if master Tim has na gone and married Maily Pengrouse ! Sir Gre. Good now, to be sure, cousin. Har. Will you, then, permit me to assume the figure of your son, and so pay my addresses to Miss Trifle? I was pretty happy in the imita tion of her father; and if I could impose upon your sagacity, I shall find less difficulty with your brother knight. Sir Gre. Good now, Tim! ah, you could not touch Tim. Har. I warrant you. But, see, the young gentleman. Enter TIM. Sir Gre. Ah, Tim, Tim! little did I -Good now, good now! Tim. I could not help it now, fath and sole: but if you'll forgive me this time, I'll never do so no more. Sir Gre. Well, well, if thee can'st forgive thyself, I can forgive thee; but thank my cousin Sir Gre. Wonderful! how, sirrah, how! good now, good now, cousin Hartop-Mally Pen-Hartop. grouse! Who the dickens is she? Ser. Master Timothy's sweetheart in Corn wall. Sir Gre. And how came she here? lack-aday, cousin! Ser. She tramped it up after master. Master Timothy is without, and says as how they be married. I wanted him to come in, but he's afraid you'll knock'n down. Sir Gre. Knock'n down! Good now, let me come at him! I'll-ah, rogue! Lack-a-day, cousin, show me where he is! I'll Har. Moderate your fury, good sir Gregory; consider, it is an evil without a remedy. Sir Gre. But what will Dame Winny say? Good now, such a disparagement to-and, then, what will sir Penurious say? lack-a-day, I am almost distracted! And you, you lubberly dog! why did not you-I'll-ah, cousin Hartop, cousin 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 Gre. Good now! no cousin, no. Har. Indeed, sir Gregory, it was but last week that lord Lofty's son married his mother's maid; and lady Betty Forward run away, not a month ago, with her uncle's butler. Sir Gre. Wonderful! what, in the news?Good now, that's some comfort, however; but what will sir Penurious Har. Oh, sir! If you are satisfied, I am rewarded. I wish you joy; joy to you, child! Tim. Thanks, cousin Hartop. Har. As to that, leave him to me; I have a project to prevent his laughing at you, I'll war-dry. Har. Sir Gregory, do you think me your friend? Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! ay, cousin, ay. Mrs Pen. Fie, fie, niece! is that liquor for a young lady? Don't disparage your family and breeding. The person is to be born that ever saw me touch any thing stronger than water till I was three-and twenty. Suck. Troth, aunt, that is so long ago, that I Har. And would you, in return, serve me in a think there's few people alive who can rememcircumstance that can't injure yourself? her what you did, then. |