an honour; and hope you'll look on me as a poor unfortunate young fellow, that has not a fhilling, nor the means of getting one, upon the face of the earth.

Capt. Oh! upon my fhoul, then, coufin Cheatwell, I pity your condition with all my heart; and fince things are fo bad with you, if you'll take a trip with me to my Irish plantation along with my dear creature here, I'll give you 500l. to ftock a farm upon my own estate at Ballymafcufhlane, in the county of Monaghan, and the barony of Coogafighy.-Fait, and here's Betty, a tight little girl; and fince you cou'd not get the mitrefs, if you'll take up with the maid, my dear here fhall give her a couple of hundreds to fortune her off.

Betty. Captain, I'm very much oblig'd to you for getting me a husband; if Mr Cheatwell has any tenders for me, I have a thousand pound left me as a legacy, which is at his fervice.

Capt. Ara, what's that, my dear! a fervant-maid with a toufand pound!-by my fhoul, there is many à lady in my country, that goes to plays, and balls, and masquerades, that has not half the money; and fcorns to make her own fmock.

Cheat. I fhou'd be blind to my own intereft not to accept of fuch valuable proposals, and with gratitude take your hand, promifing for the future to lead a life which fhall be a credit both to myself and benefactor.

Capt. Well then, without compliment, I am glad I have made one poor man happy; and fince we have made a double match, hey for Ireland, where we will live like Irish kings.

Lucy. This generofity amazes me, and greatly preju. dices me in the honefty and goodness of the Irish. Capt. Oagh, my dear little charmer, I've another fong juft à propos.

Of all the husbands living an Irishman's the best,
With my fal, lal, &c.

No nation on the globe like him can stand the test,
With my fal, fal, &c.

The English they are drones, as plainly you may fee; But we're all brifk and airy, and lively as a bee.

With my fal, lal, &c.

THE

Written and Spoken by Mr FOOTE.

SEVERE their task, who, in this critic age,
With fresh materials furnish out the flage!
Not that our fathers drain'd the comic store;
Fresh characters fpring up as beretsfore-
Nature with novelty does ftill abound;
On every fide fresh follies may be found.
But then the tale of every guest to bit,
To pleafe at once the gallery, box, and pit;
Requires at leaf--
-no common fbare of wit.

}

Thofe who adorn the orb of higher life,
Demand the lively rake or modif wife;
Whilft they who in a lower circle move,
Yawn at their wit, and flumber at their love.
If light, low mirth employs the comic scene,
Such mirth as drives from vulgar minds the spleen;
The polifb'd critic damns the wretched fluff,

And cries, "Twill pleafe the galleries well enough."
Such jarring judgments who can reconcile,

Since fops will frown where humble traders fmile?
To dafb the poet's ineffectual claim,
And quench his thirst for univerfal fame,
The Grecian fabulift, in moral lay,
Has thus addrefs'd the writers of this day.
Once on a time, a fon and fire, we're told,
The fripling tender, and the father old,
Purchas'd a jack-afs at a country fair.
To cafe their limbs and hawk about their ware:
But as the fuggif animal was weak,

They fear'd, if both fhould mount, his back wou'd break :

Up gets the boy; the father leads the afs,

And thro' the gazing crowd attempt to pass:

Forth from the throng the Grey-beards hobble out,
And bail the cavalcade with feeble fbout.
"This the refpect to reverend age you shore?
"And this the duty you to parents owe?
"He beats the hoof, and you are fet aftride:
"Sirrab, get down, and let your father ride.”
As Grecian lads were feldom void of grace,
The decent, duteous youth refign'd his place.
Then a free murmur thro' the rabble ran;
Boys, girls, wives, widows, all attack the man.
"Sure, never was brute-beaft fo void of nature!
"Have you no pity for the pretty creature?

"To

your own baby can you be unkind? "Here-Suke, Bill, Betty-put the child behind." Old Dapple next the clowns compaffion claim'd: "'Tis wonderment them boobies ben't afham'd, "Two at a time upon a poor dumb heaft!

They might as well have carry'd be at least."

The pair, ftill pliant to the partial voice,
Difmount and bear the afs―Then what a noife!
Huzzas, loud laughs, low gibe, and bitter joke,
From the yet filent fire these words provoke:
"Proceed, my boy, nor heed their farther call,
"Vain his attempt who firives to please them all!"

ACT

A

ACT I.

Governor CAFE and ROBIN.

GOVERNOR.

ND he believes me dead, Robin?

Rob. Moft certainly.

Gov. You have given him no intimation that his fortunes might mend?

Rob. Not a diftant hint.

Gov. How did he receive the news?

Rob. Calmly enough: when I told him that his hopes from abroad were at an end, that the friend of his deceased father thought he had done enough in putting it in his power to earn his own livelihood, he replied, 'twas no more than he had long expected, charged me with his warmest acknowledgments to his concealed benefactor, thanked me for my care, fighed, and left me. Gov. And how has he lived fince?

Rob. Poorly, but honeftly: to his pen he owes all his fubfiftence, I am fure my heart bleeds for him: confider, Sir, to what temptations you expofe him.

Gov. The feverer his trials, the greater his triumph. Shall the fruits of my honeft induftry, the purchase of many perils, be lavifh'd on a lazy luxurious booby, who has no other merit than being born five-and-twenty years after me? No, no, Robin; him, and a profufion of debts, were all that the extravagance of his mother left me. Rob. You lov'd her, Sir?

Gov. Fondly, nay, foolishly, or neceffity had not compell'd me to feek for fhelter in another climate. 'Tis true, fortune has been favourable to my labours; and when George convinces me that he inherits my fpirit, he fhall fhare my property, not else.

Rob. Confider, Sir, he has not your opportunities. Gov. Nor had I his education.

Rob. As the world goes, the worst you cou'd have given him. Lack-a-day! Learning, learning, Sir, is no commodity for this market: nothing makes money here, Sir, but monty; or fome certain fashionable qualities that you wou'd not wish your fon to poffefs.

Gov. Learning ufelefs! Impoffible !Where are the Oxfords, the Halifaxes, the great protectors and patrona of the liberal arts?

Rob. Patron!The word has lost its use; a guineasubscription at the request of a lady, whofe chambermaid is acquainted with the author, may be now and then pick'd up-Protector!-Why, I dare believe there's more money laid out upon Iflington turnpike in a month than upon all the learned men in Great Britain in feven years.

Gov. And yet the prefs groans with their productions! How do they all exift?

Rob. In garrets, Sir; as, if you will ftep to your fon's apartment in the next ftreet, you will fee.

Gov. But what apology shall we make for the vifit?

Rob. That you want the aid of his profeffion; a wellpenn'd addrefs now from the fubjects of your late government, with your gracious reply, to put into the newspapers.

Gov. Ay! is that part of his practice?-Well, lead on, Robin.

SCENE draws, and difcovers Young Cape with the Printer's Devil.

Cape, Prithee, go about thy business-Vanish, dear devil.

Devil. Mafter bid me not come without the proof; he fays as how there are two other Answers ready for the prefs; and if yours don't come out a Saturday, 'twon't pay for the paper. But you are always fo lazy: I have more plague with you-There's Mr Guzzle, the tranf lator, never keeps me a minute-unless the poor gentleman happens to be fuddled.

Cape. Why, you little, footy, fniv'ling, diabolical puppy, is it not fufficient to be plagu'd with the ftupidity of your abfurd master, but I must be pester'd with your impertinence ?

Devil. Impertinence !Marry come up, I keep as good company as your worship every day in the yearThere's Mr Clench, in Little Britain, does not think it beneath him to take part of a pot of porter with me, VOL. III. T

tho'