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Sir Fran. No, by my troth, so it seems ! for
Enter Mrs MOTHERLY. the devil o' one thing's here, that I can see you have any occasion for.
Oh, Mrs Motherly! You were saying this mornLady Wrong. My dear, do you think I came hi-ing you had some very fine lace to shew mether to live out of the fashion? Why, the great-Cannot I see it now?" est distinction of a fine lady, in this town, is in the
[Sir Francis stares. variety of pretty things that she has no occasion Moth. Why, really, madam, I had made a sort for.
of a promise to let the countess of Nicely bave Jenny. Sure, papa, could you imagine that wo- the birth sight of it for the first day: but your lamen of quality wanted nothing but stays and pet- dyshipticoats?
Lady Wrong. Oh! I die if I don't see it beLady Wrong. Now, that is so like him! fore her! Man. So, the family comes on finely. [Aside. Squire Rich. Woan't you go, feyther? [Apart.
Lady Wrong. Lard, if men were always to Sir Fran. Waunds, lad! I shall ha' noa stogovern, what dowdies they would reduce their mach at this rate.
[ Apart. wives to!
Moth. Well, madam, though I say it, 'tis the Sir Fran. An hundred pound in the morning, sweetest pattern that ever came over-and for and want another afore night! Waunds and fire! fineness—no cobweb comes up to it! The lord mayor of London could not hold at this Sir Fran. Ods guts and gizzard, madam! Lace rate!
as fine as a cobweb! Why, what the devil's that Man. Oh, do you feel it, sir ! [Aside. to cost, now?
Lady Wrong. My dear, you seem uneasy; let Moth. Nay, if sir Francis does not like it, ma. me have the hundred pound, and compose your damself.
Lady Wrong. He like it! Dear Mrs MotherSir Fran. Compose the devil, madam! Why, ly, he is not to wear it. do you consider what a hundred pound a-day Sir Fran. Flesh, madam! But I suppose I am comes to in a year?
for it? Lady Wrong. My life! if I account with you Lady Wrong. No doubt on't! Think of your from one day to another, that's really all my head thousand a-year, and who got it you; go!' eat is able to bear at a time- But I'll tell you what, your dinner, and be thankful, go [Driving him I consider-I consider that my advice has got to the door.]—Come, Mrs Motherly. you a thousand pound a-year this morning
[Exit LADY WRONGHEAD with Mrs MoThat, now, methinks, you might consider, sir.
THERLY. Sir Fran. A thousand a-year! Waunds, ma- Sir Fran, Very fine! So, here I mun fast, till dam, but I have not touched a penny of it yet.
I am almost famished, for the good of my counMan. Nor ever will, I'll answer for him. try, while madam is laying me out an hundred
[Aside. pound a-day in lace as fine as a cobweb, for the
honour of my family! Ods flesh! Things had Enter SQUIRE RICHARD.
need go well at this rate!
Squire Rich. Nay, nay—Come, feyther. Squire Rich. Feyther, an you doan't come [Exeunt Sir Francis and SQUIRE RICHARD. quickly, the meat will be cooled : and I'd fain pick a bit with you.
Enter Mrs MOTHERLY. Lady Wrong. Bless me, sir Francis ! You are Moth. Madam, my lady desires you and the not going to sup by yourself?
count will please to come and assist her fancy in Sir Fran. No, but I'm going to dine by my some of the new laces. self, and that's pretty near the matter, madam. Count Bas. We'll wait upon herLady Wrong. Had not you as good stay a lit
[Exit Mrs MOTHERLY. tle, my dear? We shall all eat in half an hour; Jenny. So, I told you how it was! You see and I was thinking to ask my cousin Manly to she cannot bear to leave us together. take a family morsel with us.
Count Bas. No matter, my dear : you know Sir Fran. Nay, for my cousin's good company, she has asked me to stay supper : so, when your I don't care if I ride a day's journey without papa and she are a-bed, Mrs Myrtilla will let me baiting.
into the house again; then you may steal into Man. By no means, sir Francis. I am going her chamber, and we'll have a pretty sneaker of upon a little business.
punch together. Sir Fran. Well, sir; I know you don't love Myr. Ay, ay, madam; you may command me compliments.
thing. Man. You'll excuse me, madam
Jenny. Well, that will be pure! Lady Wrong. Since you have business, sir- Count Bus. But you had best go to her alone,
[Erit Manly. my life: it will look better if I come after you.
Jenny. Ay, so it will: and to-morrow you is always open to the masks upon a ball-night, know at the masquerade—and then!
before they go to the Hay-market.
Count Bas. Good.
Myr. Now, the doctor purposes we should
all come thither in our habits, and, when the Oh, I'll have a husband ! aye, marry;
rooms are full, we may steal up into his chamFor why should I longer tarry,
ber, he says, and there- -crack- -he'll give For why should I longer tarry,
us all canonical commission to go to bed together. Than other brisk girls have done?
Count Bas. Admirable! Well, the devil fetch For if I stay till I grow grey,
me, if I shall not be heartily glad to see thee They'll call
me old maid, and fusty old jade ; well settled, child ! So I'll no longer tarry ;
Myr. And may the black gentleman tuck me But I'll have a husband, aye, marry,
under his arm at the same time, if I shall not If money can buy me one.
think myself obliged to you as long as I live!
Count Bas. One kiss for old acquaintance My mother, she says, I'm too coming ; sake-Egad, I shall want to be busy again. And still in my ears she is drumming,
Myr. Oh, you'll have one shortly will find you And still in my ears she is drumming,
employment: but I must run to my 'squire. That I such vain thoughts should shun. Count Bas. And I to the ladies so your humMy sisters they cry, oh, fy! and, oh, fy ! ble servant, sweet Mrs Wronghead ! But yet I can see, they're as coming as me ; Myr. Yours, as in duty bound, most noble So let me hade husbands in plenty:
[Exit Mye, I'd rather have twenty times twenty,
Count Bas. Why, ay ! count! That title has Than die an old maid undone. [Exit. been of some use to me, indeed ; not that I have
any more pretence to it, than I have to a blue Myr. So, sir, am not I very commode to you? ribband. Yet, I have made a pretty considera
Count Bas. Well, child, and don't you find ble figure in life with it. I have lolled in my your account in it? Did I not tell you we might own chariot, dealt at assemblies, dined with amstill be of use to one another?
bassadors, and made one at quadrille with the Myr. Well, but how stands your affair with first women of quality—Buttempora matantur ; miss in the main ?
since that damned squadron at White's have left Count Bas. Oh, she's mad for the masque- me out of their last secret, I am reduced to trade rade! It drives like a nail; we want nothing upon my own stock of industry, and make my now but a parson to clinch it. Did not your last push upon a wife. If my card comes up aunt say she could get one at a short warning? right" (which, I think, cannot fail) I shall once
Myr. Yes, yes; my lord Townly's chaplain is more cut a figure, and cock my hat in the face of her cousin, you know; he'll do your business and the best of them: for, since our modern men of mine, at the same time.
fortune are grown wise enough to be sharpers, I Count Bas. Oh, 'tis true! but where shall we think sharpers are fools that don't take up the appoint him?
airs of men of quality.
(Erit. Myr. Why, you know my lady Townly's house
SCENE I.-LORD TOWNlY's house. Lady Grace. He has not seen her since yes
terday. Enter Manly and LADY GRACE.
Man. What! not at home all night?
Lady Grace. About five this morning, in she Man. There's something, madam, hangs upon came; but, with such looks, and such an equiyour mind to-day: is it unfit to trust me with page of misfortune at her heels-What can beit?
come of her? Lady Grace. Since you will know my sister, Man. Has not my lord seen her, say you? then-unhappy woman!
Lady Grace. No; he changed his bed last Man. What of her?
night-I sat with him alone till twelve, in expecLady Grace. I fear is on the brink of ruin. tation of her : but when the clock struck, he
Man. I am sorry for it What has happen- started from his chair, and grew incensed to that ed?
degree, that, had I not, almost on my knees, disLady Grace. Nothing so very new; but the suaded him, he had ordered the doors, that incontinual repetition of it at last has raised my stant, to have been locked against her. brother to an intemperance that I tremble at. Man. How terrible is his situation, when the
Man. Have they had any words upon it? most justifiable severities he can use against her
are liable to the mirth of all the dissolute card- | beauty upon a creature, to make such a slatterntables in town!
ly use of it! Lady Grace. 'Tis that, I know, has made him Lady Grace. Oh, fy! there is not a more elebear so long : but you that feel for him, Mr Man- gant beauty in town, when she is dressed. ly, will assist him to support bis honour, and, if Man. In my eye, madam, she that's early possible, preserve his quiet; therefore, I beg you, dressed has ten times her elegance. don't leave the house, till one or both of them Lady Grace. But she won't be long now, I can be wrought to better temper.
believe ; for, I think, I see her chocolate going Man. How amiable is this concern in you! up-Mrs Trusty-a-hem!
Lady Grace. For Heaven's sake, don't mind me; but think on something to preserve us all !
MRS TRUSTY comes to the door. Man. I shall not take the merit of obeying Man. (Aside.] Five o'clock in the afternoon your commands, madam, to serve my lord— But, for a lady of quality's breakfast, is an elegant pray, madam, let me into all that has past hour, indeed! which, to shew her more polite since yesternight.
way of living, too, I presume she eats in her bed. Lady Grace. When my intreaties had prevail- Lady Grace. (To Mrs Trusty.) And when ed upon my lord, not to make a story for the she is up, I would be glad she would let me town, by so public a violence, as shutting her at come to her toilet—That's all, Mrs Trusty. once out of his doors, he ordered an apartment Trusty. I will be sure to let her ladyship next to my lady's to be made ready for him- know, madam.
[Erit. While that was doing, I tried, by all the little arts I was mistress of, to amuse him into temper;
Enter a Seroant. in short, a silent grief was all I could reduce him Ser. Sir Francis Wronghead, sir, desires to to. On this, we took our leaves, and parted to speak with you. our repose : what his was, I imagine by my own; Man. He comes unseasonably—What shall I for I ne'er closed my eyes. About five, as I told do with him? you, I heard my lady at the door; so I slipped Lady Grace. Oh, see him, by all means ! we on a gown, and sat almost an hour with her in shall have time enough ; in the mean while, her own chamber.
I'll step in, and have an eye upon my broMan. What said she, when she did not find ther. Nay, don't mind me
-you have busimy lord there?
Lady Grace. Oh! so far from being shocked, Man. You must be obeyedor alarmed at it, that she blessed the occasion; [Retreating, while LADY Grace goes out. and said, that, in her condition, the chat of a fe Desire sir Francis to walk in-[E.rit Servant.) male friend was far preferable to the best hus- I suppose, by this time, his wise worship begins band's company in the world.
to find, that the balance of his journey to London Man. Where has she the spirits to support so is on the wrong side. n uch insensibility ? Lady Grace. Nay, 'tis incredible; for, though
Enter SIR FRANCIS WRONGHEAD. she had lost every thing she had in the world, and stretched her credit even to breaking, she Sir Francis, your servant. How came 1 by the rallied her own follies with such vivacity, and favour of this extraordinary visit? painted the penance she knows she must un- Sir Fran. Ah, cousin ! dergo for them in such ridiculous lights, that Man. Why that sorrowful face, man? had not my concern for a brother been too Sir Fran. I have no friend alive but youstrong for her wit, she had almost disarmed my Man. I am sorry for thatBut what's the anger.
matter? Man. Her mind may have another cast by Sir Fran. I have played the fool by this jourthis time: the most flagrant dispositions have ney, I see now for my bitter wifetheir bours of anguish, which their pride conceals Man. What of her? from company. But pray, madam, how could Sir Fran. Is playing the devil ! she avoid coming down to dine?
Man. Why, truly, that's a part that most of Lady Grace. Oh! she took care of that be your fine ladies begin with, as soon as they get fore she went to bed, by ordering her woman, to London. whenever she was asked for, to say she was not Sir Fran. If I'm a living man, cousin, she has well.
made away with above two hundred and fifty Man. You have seen her since she was up, I pounds since yesterday morning! presume?
Man. Ha!' I see a good housewife will do a Lady Grace. Up! I question whether she be great deal of work in a little time. awake yet.
Sir Fran. Work, do they call it? Fine work, Man. Terrible! what a figure does she make indeed ! now! That nature should throw away so much Man. Well, but how do you mean made away
with it? What, she has laid it out, may be—but pigtail puppies, and pale-faced women of quaI suppose you have an account of it?
lity. Sir Fran. Yes, yes, I have had the account, Man. But pray, sir Francis, how came you, indeed; but I mun needs say, it's a very sorry after you found her so ill an housewife of one
sum, so soon to trust her with another? Man. Pray, let's hear?
Sir Fran. Why, truly, I mun say that was partly Sir Fran. Why, first, I let her have an hund- my own fault; for, if I had not been a blab of dred and fifty, to get things handsome about my tongue, I believe that last hundred might her, to let the world see that I was some. have been saved. body; and I thought that sum was very gen
Man. How so? teel.
Sir Fran. Why, like an owl as I was, out of Man. Indeed, I think so; and, in the country, good-will, forsooth, partly to keep her in humight have served her a twelvemonth.
mour, I must needs tell her of the thousand pounds Sir Fran. Why, so it inight but here, in a-year I had just got the promise ot--I'cod, she this fine town, forsooth, it could not get through lays her claws upon it that moment--said it was four-and-twenty hours—for, in half that time, it all owing to her advice, and truly she would have was all squandered away in bawbles, and new- her share on't. fashioned trumpery.
Man. What, before you had it yourself? Man. Oh! for ladies in London, sir Francis, Sir Fran. Why, ay; that's what I told her--all this might be necessary.
My dear, said I, mayhap I may’nt receive the Sir Fran. Noa, there's the plague on't; the first quarter on't this half year. devil o' one useful thing do I see for it, but two Man. Sir Francis, I have heard you with a pair of laced shoes, and those stond me in three great deal of patience, and I really feel compaspounds three shillings a pair, too.
sion for you. Man. Dear sir, this is nothing! Why we have Sir Fran. Truly, and well you may, cousin ; city wives here, that, while their good man is sel for I don't see that my wife's goodness is a bit ling three pennyworth of sugar, will give you the better for bringing to London. twenty pounds for a short apron.
Man. If you remember, I gave you a hint of Sir Fran. Mercy on us, what á mortal poor it. devil is a husband!
Sir Fran. Why, ay, it's true, you did so: but the Man. Well, but I hope you have nothing else devil himself could not have believed she would to complain of?
have rid post to him. Sir Fran. Ah, would I could say so, too!- Man. Sir, if you stay but a fortnight in this but there's another hundred behind yet, that town, you will every day see hundreds as fast goes more to my heart than all that went before upon the gallop as she is. it.
Sir Fran. Ah, this London is a base place, inMan. And how might that be disposed of? deed !---Waunds ! if things should bappen to go
Sir Fran. Troth, I am almost ashamed to tell wrong with me at Westminster, at this rate, how you.
the devil shall I keep out of a jail? Man. Out with it.
Man, Why, truly, there seems to me but one Sir Fran. Why, she has been at an assembly.
way to avoid it. Man. What, since I saw you! I thought you Sir Fran. Ah, would you could tell me that, had all supped at home last night.
cousin ! Sir. Fran. Why, so we did- -and all as Man. The way lies plain before you, sir; the merry as grigs—I'cod, îny heart was so open, same road, that brought you hither, will carry that I tossed another hundred into her apron, to you safe home again. go out early this morning with- -But the Sir Fran. Ods-flesh, cousin ! what! and leave cloth was no sooner taken away, than in comes a thousand pounds a-year behind me? my lady Townly here, (who, between you and I Man. Pooh, pooh! leave any thing bebind ---mum---has had the devil to pay yonder) with you, but your family, and you are a sarer by it. another rantipole dame of quality, and out they Sir Fran. Ay, but consider, cousin, what a must have her, they said, to introduce her at my scurvy figure sliall I make in the country, if I lady Noble's assembly, forsooth- A few come dawn withawt it. words, you may be sure, made the bargain---so, Man. You will make a much more lainentabawnce! and away they drive, as if the devil had ble figure in a jail without it. got into the coach-box---so, about four or five in Sir Fran. Mayhap 'at yow have no great the morning. -----home comes madaın, with her opinion of it then, cousin ? eyes a foot deep in her head--and my poor Man. Sir Francis, to do you the service of a hundred pounds left behind her at the hazard- real friend, I must speak very plainly to you: table !
you don't yet see half the ruin that's before you. Man. All lost at dice!
Sir Fran. Good-lack ! how may you mean, Sir Fran. Every shilling---among a parcel of cousin ?
Man. In one word, your whole affairs stand brought to play himself, madam, then he might thus---In a week, you'll lose your seat at West- feel what it is to want money. minster: in a fortnight, my lady will run you in- Lady Town. Oh, don't talk of it! do you know to jail, by keeping the best company- - In that I am undone, Trusty? four-and-twenty hours, your daughter will run Trusty. Mercy forbid, madam! away with a sharper, because she han't been used Lady Town. "Broke, ruined, plundered! to better company: and your son will steal into stripped, even to a confiscation of my last guinea! marriage with a cast mistress, because he has Trusty. You don't tell me so, madam? not been used to any company at all.
Lady Town. And where to raise ten pound in Sir Fran. I'th' name of goodness, why should the world—What is to be done, Trusty? you think all this?
Trusty. Truly, I wish I were wise enough to Man. Because I have proof of it; in short, I tell you, madam : but may be your ladyship may know so much of their secrets, that if all this is have a run of better fortune upon some of the not prevented to-night, it will be out of your good company that comes here to-night. power to do it to-morrow morning.
Lady Town. But I have not a single guinea to Sir Fran. Mercy upon us ! you frighten me--- try niy fortune. Well, sir, I will be governed by you : but what Trusty. Ha! that's a bad business indeed, maam I to do in this case ?
dam-Adad, I have a thought in my head, maMan. I have not time here to give you pro- dam, if it is not too lateper instructions; but about eight this evening Lady Town. Out with it quickly, then, I beI'll call at your lodgings, and there you shall have seech thee. full conviction how much I have it at heart to Trusty. Has not the steward something of fifty serve you.
pounds, madam, that you left in his hands to pay
somebody about this time? Enter a Seroant.
Lady Town. Oh, ay; I had forgot—'twas to Ser. Sir, my lord desires to speak with you. a-what's his filthy name? Man. I'll wait upon hiin.
Trusty. Now I remember, madam, 'twas to Sir Fran. Well, then, I'll go strait home, naw. Mr Lutestring, your old mercer, that your ladyMan. At eight depend upon me,
ship turned off about a year ago, because he Sir Fran. Ah, dear cousin ! I shall be bound would trust you no longer. to you as long as I live. Mercy deliver us, what Lady Town. The very wretch! If he has not a terrible journey have I made on't!
paid it, run quickly, dear Trusty, and bid him [Ereunt severally. bring it hither immediately-Erit Trusty.]
Well, sure mortal woman never had such forSCENE II.—Opens to a dressing-room. tune! five, five and nine, against poor seven for
-No, after that horrid bar of my chance, Lady Townty, as just up, walks to her toilet,
that lady Wronghead's fatal red fist upon the leaning on Mrs Trusty.
table, I saw it was impossible ever to win anoTrusty. Dear madam, what should make your ther stake-Sit up all night; lose all one's moladyship so out of order?
ney; dreain of winning thousands; wake without Lady Town. How is it possible to be well, a shilling; and then —How like a hag I look! where one is killed for want of sleep?
In short--the pleasures of life are not worth this Trusty. Dear me! it was so long before you disorder. If it were not for shame, now, I could rung, madam, I was in hopes your ladyship had almost think lady Grace's sober scheme not quite been finely composed.
so ridiculous-If my wise lord could but hold Lady Town. Composed! why I have lain in an his tongue for a week, 'tis odds but•I should hate inn here; this house is worse than an inn with the town in a fortnight-But I willmot be driten stage-coaches: what between my lord's im- ven out of it, that's positive. pertinent people of business in a morning, and the intolerable thick shoes of footmen at noon,
TRUSTY returns. one has not a wink all night.
Trusty. Indeed, madam, it's a great pity my Trusty. Oh, madam, there's no bearing of it! lord can't be persuaded into the hours of people Mr Lutestring was just let in at the door, as I of quality—though I must say that, madam, your came to the stair foot; and the steward is now ladyship is certainly the best matrimonial mana- actually paying him the money in the hall. ger in town.
Lady Town. Run to the stair-case head again Lady Town. Oh, you are quite mistaken, -and scream to him, that I must speak with Trusty! I manage very' ill; for, notwithstanding him this instant. [TRUSTY runs out, and speaks. all the power I have, by never being over-fond of Trusty. Mr Poundage-a-hem! Mr Poundmy lord - yet I want noney infinitely oftener age, a word with you quickly! [Without. than he is willing to give it me.
Pound. [Within.] I'll come to you presently. Trusty. Ah! if his lordship could but be
Without. Vol. II.