-I'll attend you directly, Sir, (looks again at the letter.)

Fer. Oh! that unlucky letter-(afide.)

Sir B. " Friend,

"Before thou haft perufed many lines of this epiftle, thou wilt be ftruck-(ftops, and looks round, as if expecting another attack) ftruck dumb with anger and amazement."-(Eh!)-" but I befeech thee, let not the violence of thy ward move thee."

Fer. (Having walked about in agitation, pulls Sir B. along fuddenly.)-Come, Sir Barometer, dinner's on table-plenty of time to finish your letter after. Sir B. Well-well, fome other time-but I'm very anxious.

Fer. So am I-for my dinner.

Enter Waiter from the Drum.

Wait. Every thing is ready, Sir-
Fer. What, the lobster?

Wait. Yes, Sir, and the lady

[Exit Wait.

Sir B. That's right-I'll be content with the lobster-you may take the lady; O, you'll find her a delicate morfel. Hark'ye, Sir, there's an old faying

Fer. I know it-" What's one man's meat, is another man's poifon."

Sir B. No.

That's not it.

Fer. Yes, it is-Ha! ha! ha! come along.

Sir B. No.

Fer. Yes. (talking together, FERVOR pulling in Sir B.)-Zounds, here's a buftle.

[Exeunt.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-The fign of the Angel Inn, Tap-Room, &c. &c.

Enter BROADBRIM.

Oba. Verily, my spirit is much fatigued, and I am weary with the length of the journey-but the conduct of Drab, my clerk, made dispatch and expedition indifpenfible. Now, fhall I wed the woman called Penelope Snap, or not? Verily, yea, for she is wealthy, although the be waxen in years, and corpulent as a coufin German of the man called Lambert.

SONG. BROADBRIM.

When wife man cleaveth to woman's fide,
He always chooseth a wealthy bride;

Then fat as mud, or thin as death,

He taketh her and marrieth.

Foddle e di dol, &c.

Oh what is love, that can't keep house?
Or what's a spouse without a fouse?
A rofy cheek, it fadeth faft;

But England's three per Cents. will last.

Foddle e di dol, &c.

They talk of dimples, and what not;
A dimple boileth not a pot,

Then let me read in woman's face,
Some lines to Mr. Henry Hase.

Foddle e di dol, &c.

Enter Poft-Boy with a Pormanteau.

Poft B. Where will your worship please to have the portmantit taken ?

Oba. Depofit it any where, friend, fo it be not defiled. (Poft Boy places it at the Tap door.)

Poft B. (Afide.) I hope the fpirit will move the old buck to be generous. Driver, please your worfhip. (taking off his Cap.)

Oba. I had forgotten-there is half-a-crown.
Poft B. I hope your worship will tip a crown.
Oba. Tip a crown!

Poft. B. It's a bad ftage, and I put 'em along.

Oba. Put 'em along! verily, he fpeaketh the language of the profane, which I comprehend not.Friend, the money is fufficient, I will give thee no

Corporal BARREL enters from the Tap, and flops to read the direction on OBADIAH BROADERIM's Port

manteau.

Corp I'll foon be with you my lads-must brush the Captain's cloak.

Oba. (to Poft-Boy.) Thy appeal is in vain, my refolution is fix'd. (Exit Poft-Boy muttering.) D-d ftiff-rump'd rafcal!

Corp. (reading) "Obadiah Broadbrim, Gracechurch-ftreet."--Oh-it belongs to the recruit I 'lifted this morning. (Noife of jolity in the Tap.)

Oba. I hear the founds of revelry and riot.—— Friend (to Corp.) wilt thou convey my baggage to a place of fafety for me?

Corp. (Looking with astonishment at OBADIAH.)— Your baggage?

Oba. Yea-friend-mine.-I will reward thee. Corp. (rubbing his eyes.) Well, I know the punch has made me a little muzzy-therefore, I am not myself the fame man I was in the morning; but, may I never drink punch again, if my recruit there, is not alter'd more than I am.

Oba. (Afide.) This man of war, I fhould guess appertaineth unto the youth Charles Fervor.

Corp. (Afide.) And yet he looks more like fortyfeven than he did in the morning.-Well, you'll make a fine ftout foldier, and I am glad to fee you-tho' I did not expect you quite fo foon.--(hakes OBA. violently by the band.)

Oba. Nay, friend, I befeech thee-verily, the fumes of ftrong liquor hath drawn a veil over his eyes, and he taketh me for one of his recruits-he deceiveth himself, the fault refteth not with meand I will therefore benefit myfelf, and further my defigns by the information which I may extract from him, concerning the conduct of the youth Charles Fervor.

Corp. (aside.) What a devilish good military hat his will make when it is fmartly turn'd up, and a cockade ftuck in it.

(Soldier from the Tap calls) Corporal-Corporal Barrel-make hafte-we've just attack'd t'other bowl.-Sbouts of laughter, &c.)

Corp. O-ho-have ye fo-come along Broadbrim-we'll foon make a foldier of you; here, clap the Captain's cloak on, (Corp. throws it over him)-it's lucky I happen'd to have it,there, now for your hat. (offers to take it.)

Oba. Pray, friend, let my beaver remain—(aside.) rejoice greatly at this difguife; my character, as one of the faithful, will not be scandalized.

Corp. Come along, my lad of wax.

Oba. Follows Corp. bouts of merriment. Oba. ftops fuddenly, and walks back.) When I hear the fhouts of drunkenness, and debauchery-I wax fearful. Corp. Come along, my boy come along, Broadbrim.

Oba.

Hum!-(fearfully, and drawing back)
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Enter Mrs. P. SNAP, and Sir B. with the Letter in his hand.

Sir B. Thefe are the precious effects of modern education-these are your town morals-thefe are your fashionable accomplishments.-Oh! I fhall break my heart.

--

Pen. I wish you'd read the letter first. What can poffibly be the matter?

Sir B. Matter!--Matter enough, Madamto think after all the care Obadiah took of himwhen I expected to find him poffeffed of every noble feeling-educated in every virtue, and free from every vice to have him return'd to me with a catalogue of crimes

Pen. (impatient.) Will you read the letter or

not?

Sir B. Yes-no-yes- I have read it once, and it has half kill'd me.

Pen. Ah, well, read it again then, and I fhall be fatisfied.

Sir B. What!-there's an old faying

Pen. Give me patience, brother.

Sir. B. How can I-I have none myself; I am half frantic with rage, difappointment, and vexation,