SCENE I.-A Room in an Inn.

Enter YOUNG FASHION and LORY, Postillion
following with a Portmanteau.

Young F. LORY, pay the Post-boy, and take the portmanteau.

Lory. Faith, sir, we had better let the Post-boy take the portmanteau and pay himself.

Young F. Why sure there's something left in it. Lory. Not a rag, upon my honour, sir-we eat the last of your wardrobe at New Malton-and if we had had twenty miles further to go, our next meal must have been of the cloak-bag.

Young F. Why 'sdeath, it appears full.

Lory. Yes, sir-I made bold to stuff it with hay, to save appearances, and look like baggage.

Young F. What the divil shall I do?-harkee, boy, what's the chaise?

Post. Thirteen shillings, please your honour. Young F. Can you give me change for a guinea?

Post. O yes, sir.

Lory. Soh, what will he do now?-Lord, sir, you had better let the boy be paid below.

Young F. Why, as you say, Lory, I believe it will be as well.

Lory. Yes, yes; I'll tell them to discharge you below, honest friend.

too.

Post. Please your honour, there are the turnpikes,

Young F. Ay, ay, the turnpikes by all means. Post. And I hope your honour will order me something for myself.

Young F. To be sure; bid them give you a crown. Lory. Yes, yes-my master doesn't care what you charge them-so get along you

Post. And there's the hostler, your honour.

Lory. Pshaw! damn the hostler-would you impose upon the gentleman's generosity? [Pushes him out.] A rascal, to be so curst ready with his change!

Young F. Why, faith, Lory,he had nearly pos'd me. Lory. (Returns,) Well, sir, we are arrived at Scarborough, not worth a guinea: I hope you'll own yourself a happy man-you have ontliv'd all your cares. Young F. How so, sir?

Lory. Why you have nothing left to take care of. Young F. Yes, sirrah, I have myself and you to take care of still.

Lory. Sir, if you could prevail with somebody else to do that for you, I fancy we might both fare the better for it. But now, sir, for my Lord Foppington, your elder brother.

Young F. Damn my elder brother.

Lory. With all my heart; but get him to redeem your annuity, however. Look you, sir, you must wheedle him, or you must starve.

Young F. Look you,sir, I will neither wheedle him

nor starve.

Lory. Why what will you do, then?

Young F. Cut his throat, or get some one to do it

for me.

Lory. 'Gad so, sir, I'm glad to find I was not so well acquainted with the strength of your conscience as with the weakness of your purse.

Young. F. Why, art thou so impenetrable a blockhead as to believe he'll help me with a farthing.

Lory. Not if you treat him de haut en bas, as you

used to do.

Young. F. Why how would'st have me treat him?
Lory. Like a trout-tickle him.
Young. F. I can't flatter.

Lory. Can you starve?

Young. F. Yes.

Lory. I can't-good-by-t'ye, sir.

Young. F. Stay-thoul't distract me. But who comes here my old friend, Colonel Townly.

Enter COLONEL TOWNLY.

My dear Colonel, I am rejoiced to meet you here. Col. T. Dear Tom, this is an unexpected pleasure -what, are you come to Scarborough to be present at your brother's wedding?

Lory. Ah, sir, if it had been his funeral, we should have come with pleasure.

Col. T. What, honest Lory, are you with your master still?

Lory. Yes, sir, I have been starving with him ever since I saw your honour last.

Young. F. Why Lory is an attached rogue—there's no getting rid of him.

Lory. True, sir, as my master says, there's no seducing me from his service-till he's able to pay me my wages. [Aside.

Young. F. Go, go, sir-and take care of the baggage. Lory. Yes, sir-the baggage! O Lord! [Takes up the Portmanteau.] I suppose, sir, I must charge the landlord to be very particular where he stows this?

Young. F. Get along, you rascal. [Exit LORY, with the Portmanteau.] But, Colonel, are you acquainted with my proposed sister-in-law?

Col. T. Only by character-her father, Sir Tun

belly Clumsy, lives within a quarter of a mile of this place, in a lonely old house, which nobody comes near. She never goes abroad, nor sees company at home; to prevent all misfortunes, she has her breeding within doors; the parson of the parish teaches her to play upon the dulcimer, the clerk to sing, her nurse to dress, and her father to dance;-in short, nobody has free admission there but our old acquaintance, Mother Coupler, who has procured your brother this match, and is, I believe, a distant relation of Sir Tunbelly's.

Young. F. But is her fortune so considerable?

Col. T. Three thousand a-year, and a good sum of money, independent of her father, beside.

Young. F. 'Sdeath! that my old acquaintance, Dame Coupler, could not have thought of me, as well as my brother, for such a prize.

Col. T. 'Egad, I wouldn't swear that you are too late-his lordship, I know, has'nt yet seen the lady— and, I believe has quarrelled with his patroness.

Young. F. My dear Colonel, what an idea have you started!

Col. T. Pursue it if you can, and I promise you you shall have my assistance; for beside my natural contempt for his lordship, I have at present the enmity of a rival towards him.

Young. F. What, has he been addressing your old flame, the widow Berinthia?

Col. T. Faith, Tom, I am at present most whimsically circumstanced. I came here a month ago to meet the lady you mention; but she failing in her promise, I, partly from pique, and partly from idleness, have been diverting my chagrin by offering up incense to the beauties of Amanda, our friend Lovelcss's wife.

Young. F. I never have seen her, but have heard her spoken of as a youthful wonder of beauty and prudence.

Col. T. She is so, indeed; and Loveless being too careless and insensible of the treasure he possesses

my lodging in the same house has given me a thousand opportunities of making my assiduities acceptable: so that in less than a fortnight, I began to bear my disappointment from the widow with the most Christian resignation.

Young. F. And Berinthia has never appear'd?

Col. T. Oh, there's the perplexity; for just as 1 began not to care whether I ever saw her again or not, last night she arrived.

Young F. And instantly resumed her empire?

Col. T. No, faith-we met-but the lady not condescending to give me any serious reasons for having fool'd me for a month, I left her in a huff.

Young F. Well, well, I'll answer for it she'll soon resume her power, especially as friendship will prevent your pursuing the other too far-but my coxcomb of a brother is an admirer of Amanda's too, is he?

Col. T. Yes, and I believe is most heartily despised by her but come with me, and you shall see her and your old friend Loveless.

Young F. I must pay my respects to his lordship --perhaps you can direct me to his lodgings.

Col. T. Come with me; I shall pass by it.

Young F. I wish you could pay this visit for me, or could tell me what I should say to him.

Col. T. Say nothing to him-apply yourself to his bag, his sword, his feather, his snuff box; and when you are well with them, desire him to lend you a thousand pounds, and I'll engage you prosper.

Young F. 'Sdeath and furies! why was that coxcomb thrust into the world before me? O Fortune, Fortune, thou art a jilt, by Gad! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Dressing-Room.

Enter LORD FOPPINGTON, in his Dressing-gown,

and LA VAROLE.

Lord F. Well, 'tis an unspeakable pleasure to be a man of quality-strike me dumb-even the boors of