Col. O. Well, Master Jenkins! don't you think now that a nobleman, a duke, an earl, or a marquis, might be content to share his title I say, you understand me-with a sweetener of thirty or forty thousand pounds, to pay off mortgages? Besides, there's a prospect of my whole estate; for I dare swear her brother will never have any children.

Jenk. I should be concerned at that, Colonel, when there are two such fortunes to descend to his heirs, as yours and Sir John Flowerdale's.

Col. O. Why, look you, Master Jenkins, Sir John Flowerdale is an honest gentleman; we have been neighbours time out of mind; and if he and I have an odd dispute now and then, it is not for want of a cordial esteem at bottom. He is going to marry his daughter to my son; she is a beautiful girl, an elegant girl, a sensible girl, a worthy girl, and-a word in your ear-damn me if I a'n't very sorry for

her.

Jenk. Sorry, Colonel!

Col. O. Ay-between ourselves, Master Jenkins, my son won't do.

Jenk. How do you mean?

Col. O. I tell you, Master Jenkins, he won't do he is not the thing, a prig-At sixteen years old, or thereabouts, he was a bold, sprightly boy, as you should see in a thousand; could drink his pint of port, or his bottle of claret-now he mixes all his wine with water.

Jeak. Oh! if that be his only fault, Colonel, he will ne'er make the worse husband, I'll answer for it.

Col. O. You know my wife is a woman of quality -I was prevailed upon to send him to be brought up by her brother, Lord Jessamy, who had no children of his own, and promised to leave him an estate-he has got the estate, indeed, but the fellow has taken his lordship's name for it. Now, Master Jenkins, I

would be glad to know how the name of Jessamy is better than that of Oldboy.

Jenk. Well, but, Colonel, it is allowed on all hands that his lordship has given your son an excellent education.

Col. O. Pshaw! he sent him to the university, and to travel, forsooth; but what of that? I was abroad, and at the university myself, and never a rush the better for either. I quarrelled with his lordship, about six years before his death, and so had not an opportunity of seeing how the youth went on; if I had, Master Jenkins, I would no more have suffered him to be made such a monkey of He has been in my house but three days, and it is all turned topsy-turvy by him and his rascally servants-then his chamber is like a perfumer's shop, with wash-balls, pastes, and pomatum-and, do you know, he had the impudence to tell me yesterday, at my own table, that I did not know how to behave myself!

Jenk. Pray, Colonel, how does my Lady Mary?

Col. O. What, my wife? In the old way, Master Jenkins; always complaining; ever something the matter with her head, or her back, or her legs-but we have had the devil to pay lately-she and I did not speak to one another for three weeks.

Jenk. How so, sir?

Col. O. A little affair of jealousy-you must know my gamekeeper's daughter has had a child, and the plaguy baggage takes it into her head to lay it to me-Upon my soul, it is a fine fat chubby infant, as ever I set my eyes on; I have sent it to nurse; and, between you and me, I believe I shall leave it a for

tune.

Jenk. Ah, Colonel, you will never give over.

Col. O. You know my lady has a pretty vein of poetry; she writ me an heroic epistle upon it, where she calls me her dear false Damon; so I let her cry a

little, promised to do so no more, and now we are as good friends as ever.

Jenk. Well, Colonel, I must take my leave; I have delivered my message, and Sir John may expect the pleasure of your company to dinner?

Col. O. Ay, ay, we'll come-pox o' ceremony among friends. But won't you stay to see my son? I have sent to him, and suppose he will be here as soon as his valet-de-chambre will give him leave.— Well, but, zounds, Jenkins, you must not go till you drink something let you and I have a bottle of hock

Jenk. Not for the world, Colonel; I never touch any thing strong in the morning.

Col. O. Never touch any thing strong! Why, one bottle won't hurt you, man; this is old, and as mild as milk.

Jenk. Pray excuse me.

To tell

AIR.

you the truth,

In the days of my youth,
As mirth and nature bid,
I liked a glass,

And I loved a lass,

And I did as younkers did.

But now I am old,

With grief be it told,

I must those freaks forbear;

At sixty-three,

'Twixt you and me,

A man grows worse for wear.

Enter MR JESSAMY and LADY MARY OLDBOY.

Lady M. O. Shut the door; why don't you shut -the door there? Have you a mind I should catch my

death? This house is absolutely the cave of Æolus; one had as good live on the Eddystone, or in a windmill.

Jess. I thought they told your ladyship, that there was a messenger here from Sir John Flowerdale.

Col. O. Well, sir, and so there was; but he had not patience to wait upon your curling irons. Mr Jenkins was here, Sir John Flowerdale's steward, who has lived in the family these forty years.

Jess. And pray, sir, might not Sir John Flowerdale have come himself? If he had been acquainted with the rules of good breeding, he would have known that I ought to have been visited.

Lady M. O. Upon my word, Colonel, this is a solecism.

Col. O. 'Sblood, my lady, it's none! Sir John Flowerdale came but last night from his sister's seat in the west, and is a little out of order. But I suppose he thinks he ought to appear before him, with his daughter in one hand, and his rent-roll in the other, and cry, Sir, pray do me the favour to accept them.

Jess. That's an exceeding fine china jar your ladyship has got in the next room; I saw the fellow of it the other day at Williams's, and will send to my agent to purchase it: it is the true matchless old blue and white. Lady Betty Barebones has a couple that she gave an hundred guineas for, on board an Indiaman; but she reckons them at an hundred and twenty-five, on account of half a dozen plates, four nankeen beakers, and a couple of shaking mandarins, that the custom-house officers took from under her petti

coats.

Col. O. Did you ever hear the like of this! He's chattering about old china, while I am talking to him of a fine girl! I tell you what, Mr Jessamy,

since that's the name you chuse to be called by, I have a good mind to knock you down!

Jess. Knock me down, Colonel! What do you mean? I must tell you, sir, this is a language to which I have not been accustomed; and, if you think proper to continue to repeat it, I shall be under a necessity of quitting your house!

Col. O. Quitting my house!

Jess. Yes, sir, incontinently.

Col. O. Why, sir, am not I your father, sir, and have not I a right to talk to you as I like? I will, sirrah! But, perhaps, I mayn't be your father, and I hope not.

Lady M. O. Heavens and earth, Mr Oldboy!

Col. O. What's the matter, madam? I mean, madam, that he might have been changed at nurse, madam; and I believe he was.

Jess. Huh! huh! huh!

Col. O. Do you laugh at me, you saucy jackanapes!

Lady M. O. Who's there? somebody bring me a chair. Really, Mr Oldboy, you throw my weakly frame into such repeated convulsions-but I see your aim ; you want to lay me in my grave, and you will very soon have that satisfaction.

Col. O. I can't bear the sight of him.

Lady M. O. Open that window, give me air, or I shall faint.

Jess. Hold, hold, let me tie a handkerchief about my neck first. This cursed sharp north wind-An

toine, bring down my muff.

Col. O. Ay, do, and his great coat.

Lady M. O. Margaret, some hartshorn.

Jess. Colonel!

Col. O. Do you hear the puppy

Jess. Will you give me leave to ask you one question?