say that I have lived all my days i' the country -what then?-I'm o' the quorum-I have been at sessions, and I have made speeches there! ay, and at vestry, too- -and mayhap they may find here,--that I have brought my tongue up to town with me! D'ye take me naw? Man. If I take your case right, cousin, I am afraid the first occasion you will have for your eloquence here, will be, to shew that you have any right to make use of it at all. Sir Fran. How d'ye mean? Man. That Sir John Worthland has lodged a petition against you. Sir Fran. Petition! why, aye! there let it lie— we'll find a way to deal with that, I warrant you! -Why, you forget, cousin, sir John's o' the wrung side, mon? Man. I doubt, sir Francis, that will do you but little service; for, in cases very notorious, which I take yours to be, there is such a thing as a short day, and dispatching them immediately. Sir Fran. With all my heart! the sooner I send him home again, the better. Man. And this is the scheme you have laid down, to repair your fortune? Man. Very well; but when she is thus accomplished, you must still wait for a vacancy. Sir Fran. Why, I hope one has a good chance for that every day, cousin: for, if I take it right, that's a post, that folks are not more willing to get into, than they are to get out of-It's like an orange-tree, upon that accawnt-It will bear blossoms, and fruit that's ready to drop, at the same time. Man. Well, sir, you best know how to make good your pretensions. But, pray, where is my lady, and my young cousin? I should be glad to see them, too. Sir Fran. She is but just taking a dish of tea with the count, and my landlady-I'll call her dawn. Man. No, no; if she's engaged, I shall call again. Sir Fran. Odsheart! But you mun see her naw, cousin; what! The best friend I have in the world! Here, sweetheart!-[To a servant without.]-Prithee, desire my lady and the gentleman to come dawn a bit; tell her, here's cousin Manly come to wait upon her. Man. Pray, sir, who may the gentleman be? Sir Fran. You man know him, to be sure; why, its Count Basset. Sir Fran. In one word, cousin, I think it my duty. The Wrongheads have been a considerable family ever since England was England: and, since the world knows I have talents wherewith-finitely happy in his acquaintance. al, they shan't say it's my fault, if I don't make as good a figure as any that ever were at the head on't. Man. Oh! Is it he? Your family will be in Man. Nay, this project, as you have laid it, will come up to any thing your ancestors have done these five hundred years. Sir Fran. And let me alone to work it: mayhap, I havn't told you all, neither— Man. You astonish me! What! And is it full as practicable as what you have told me? Sir Fran. Ay, thof' I say it--every whit, cousin. You'll find that I have more irons i' the fire than one; I doan't come of a fool's errand! Man. Very well. Sir Fran. In a word, my wife has got a friend at court, as well as myself, and her dowghter Jenny is naw pretty well grown up Man. [Aside.]-And what, in the devil's name, would he do with the dowdy? Sir Fran. Naw, if I doan't lay in for a husband for her, mayhap, i' this tawn, she may be looking out for herself Man. Not unlikely. Sir Fran. Therefore, I have some thoughts of getting her to be maid of honour. Man. [Aside.]-Oh! he has taken my breath away; but I must hear him out—Pray, sir Francis, do you think her education has yet qualified her for a court? Sir Fran. Why, the girl is a little too mettlesome, it's true; but she has tongue enough: she woan't be dasht: then she shall learn to daunce forthwith, and that will soon teach her how to stond still, you know. Sir Fran. Troth! I think so, too: he's the civilest man that ever I knew in my life-Why! here he would go out of his own lodgings, at an hour's warning, purely to oblige my family. Was'nt that kind, naw? Man. Extremely civil-the family is in admirable hands already. [Aside. Sir Fran. Then my lady likes him hugely all the time of York races, she would never be without him. Man. That was happy, indeed! And a prudent man, you know, should always take care that his wife may have innocent company. Sir Fran. Why, aye! that's it! and I think there could not be such another! Man. Why, truly, for her purpose, I think not. Sir Fran. Only naw and tan, he-he stonds a leetle too much upon ceremony; that's his fault. Man. Oh, never fear! he'll mend that every day-Mercy on us! What a head he has ! Sir Fran. So, here they come. [Aside. to tell you, as a friend, madam, you are come to the worst place in the world, for a good woman to grow better in. Lady Wrong. Lord, cousin! How should people ever make any figure in life, that are always moped up in the country. Count Bas. Your ladyship certainly takes the thing in quite a right light, madam. Mr Manly, your humble servant--a hem. Man. Familiar puppy.-[Aside.]-Sir, your most obedient—I must be civil to the rascal, to cover my suspicion of him. [Aside. Count Bas. Was you at White's this morning, sir? Man. Yes, sir, I just called in. Count Bas. Pray-what-was there any thing done there? Man. Much as usual, sir; the same daily carcases, and the same crows about them. Count Bas. The Demoivre-Baronet had a bloody tumble yesterday. Man. I hope, sir, you had your share of him. Count Bas. No, faith; I came in when it was all over-I think I just made a couple of bets with him, took up a cool hundred, and so went to the King's Arms. Lady Wrong. What a genteel easy manner he has! [Aside. Man. A very hopeful acquaintance I have made here. [Aside. Enter SQUIRE RICHARD, with a wet brown paper on his face. Sir Fran. How naw, Dick! what's the matter with thy forehead, lad? Squire Rich. I ha' gotten a knock upon't. Lady Wrong. And how did you come by it, you heedless creature? Squire Rich. Why, I was but running after sister, and t'other young woman, into a little room, just naw: and so, with that, they slapped the door full in my face, and gave me such a whurr here I thought they had beaten my brains out; so, I got a dab of wet brown paper here, to swage it a while. Lady Wrong. They served you right enough; will you never have done with your horse-play? Sir Fran. Pooh, never heed it, lad; it will be well by to-morrow-the boy has a strong head. Man. Yes, truly; his skull seems to be of a comfortable thickness. [Aside. Sir Fran. Coine, Dick, here's cousin ManlySir, this is your god-son. Squire Rich. Honoured godfeyther, I crave leave to ask your blessing. Man. Thou hast it, child-and, if it will do thee any good, may it be, to make thee, at least, as wise a man as thy father! Enter MISS JENNY. Lady Wrong, Oh, here's my daughter, too.Miss Jenny! Don't you see your cousin, child? Man. And as for thee, my pretty dear-[Salutes her.]-May'st thou be, at least, as good a woman as thy mother! Jenny. I wish I may ever be so handsome, sir. Man. Ha, Miss Pert! Now that's a thought that seems to have been hatcht in the girl on this side Highgate. [Aside. Sir Fran. Her tongue is a little nimble, sir. Lady Wrong. That's only from her country education, sir Francis. You know she has been kept too long there-so I brought her to London, sir, to learn a little more reserve and modesty. Man. Oh, the best place in the world for itevery woman she meets will teach her something of it--There's the good gentlewoman of the house looks like a knowing person; even she, perhaps, will be so good as to shew her a little London behaviour. Moth. Alas, sir! miss won't stand long in need of my instruction. Man. That I dare say. What thou canst teach her, she will soon be mistress of. [Aside. Moth. If she does, sir, they shall always be at her service. Lady Wrong. Very obliging indeed, Mrs Motherly! Sir Fran. Very kind and civil, truly !—I think we are got into a mighty good hawse here. Man. Oh, yes; and very friendly company. Count Bas. Humph! 'Egad I don't like his looks he seems a little smoky-I believe I had as good brush off-If I stay, I don't know but he may ask me some odd questions. Man. Well, sir; I believe you and I do but hinder the family Count Bas. It is very true, sir-I was just thinking of going-He don't care to leave me, I see: but it's no matter, we have time enough.[Aside.]—And so, ladies, without farther ceremony, your humble servant. [Exit COUNT BASSET, and drops a letter. Lady Wrong. Ha! What paper's this? Some billet-doux, I'll lay my life; but this is no place to examine it. [Puts it in her pocket. Sir Fran. Why in such haste, cousin? Man. Oh, my lady must have a great many affairs upon her hands, after such a journey. Lady Wrong. I believe, sir, I shall not have much less every day, while I stay in this town, of one sort or other. Man. Why, truly, ladies seldom want employment here, madam. Jenny. And mamma did not come to it to be idle, sir. Man. Nor you, neither, I dare say, my young mistress. Jenny. I hope not, sir. Man. Ha, Miss Mettle! Where are you going, sir? Sir Fran. Only to see you to the door, sir. Man. Oh, sir Francis, I love to come and go, without ceremony. Sir Fran. Nay, sir; I must do as you will have me-Your humble servant. [Exit MANLY. Jenny. This cousin Manly, papa, seems to be but of an odd sort of a crusty humour-I don't like him half so well as the count. Sir Fran. Pooh! that's another thing, childCousin is a little proud, indeed; but, however, you must always be civil to him, for he has a deal of money; and nobody knows who he may give it to. Lady Wrong. Psha! a fig for his money! you have so many projects of late about money, since you are a parliament man. What! we must make ourselves slaves to his impertinent humours, eight or ten years, perhaps, in hopes to be his heirs, and then he will be just old enough to marry his maid. Moth. Nay, for that matter, madam, the town says he is going to be married already. Sir Fran. Who! cousin Manly? Lady Wrong. To whom, pray? Moth. Why, is it possible your ladyship should know nothing of it!-To my lord Townly's sister, lady Grace. Lady Wrong. Lady Grace! Moth. Dear madam, it has been in the newspapers! Lady Wrong. I don't like that, neither. Sir Fran. Naw, I do; for then it's likely it mayn't be true. Lady Wrong. [Aside.]-If it is not too far gone, at least it may be worth one's while to throw a rub in his way. Squire Rich. Pray, feyther, haw lung will it be to supper? Sir Fran. Odso! that's true; step to the cook, lad, and ask what she can get us. Moth. If you please, sir, I'll order one of my maids to shew her where she may have any thing you have a mind to. Sir Fran. Thank you kindly, Mrs Motherly. Squire Rich. Ods-flesh! What, is not it i' the hawse yet I shall be famished-But hawld! I'll go and ask Doll, an' there's none o' the goose poy left. Sir Fran. Do so; and, do'st hear, Dick ?-see if there's e'er a bottle o' the strong beer that came i' th' coach with us-if there be, clap a toast in it, and bring it up. Squire Rich. With a little nutmeg and sugar, shawn'a I, feyther? Sir Fran. Aye, aye; as thee and I always drink it for breakfast-Go thy ways! and I'll fill a pipe i' th' mean while. [Takes one from a pocket-case, and fills it.— Erit SQUIRE RICHARD. Lady Wrong. This boy is always thinking of his belly. Sir Fran. Why, my dear, you may allow him to be a little hungry after his journey. Lady Wrong. Nay, even breed him your own way-He has been cramming, in or out of the coach, all this day, I am sure-I wish my poor girl could eat a quarter as much. Jenny. Oh, as for that, I could eat a great deal more, mamma; but, then, mayhap, I should grow coarse, like him, and spoil my shape. Lady Wrong. Aye; so thou wouldst, my dear. Enter SQUIRE RICHARD, with a full tankard. Squire Rich. Here, feyther, I ha' browght it— it's well I went as I did; for our Doll had just baked a toast, and was going to drink it herself. Sir Fran. Why, then, here's to thee, Dick! Squire Rich. Thonk you, feyther. [Drinks. Lady Wrong. Lord, sir Francis, I wonder you can encourage the boy to swill so much of that lubberly liquor!-it's enough to make him quite stupid. Squire Rich. Why, it never hurts me, mother; and I sleep like a hawnd after it. [Drinks. Sir Fran. I am sure I ha' drunk it these thirty years, and, by your leave, madam, I don't know that I want wit: ha, ha! Jenny. But you might have had a great deal more, papa, if you would have been governed by my mother. Sir Fran. Daughter, he that is governed by his wife, has no wit at all. Jenny. Then I hope I shall marry a fool, sir; for I love to govern, dearly. Sir Fran. You are too pert, child; it den't do well in a young woman. Lady Wrong. Pray, sir Francis, don't snub her; she has a fine growing spirit, and, if you check her so, you will make her as dull as her brother there. Squire Rich. [After a long draught.]-Indeed, mother, I think my sister is too forward. Jenny. You! You think I'm too forward! Sure, brother mud, your head's too heavy to think of any thing but your belly! Lady Wrong. Well said, miss! he's none of your master, though he is your elder brother. Squire Rich. No, nor she shawnt be my mistress, while she's younger sister. Sir Fran. Well said, Dick! Shew 'em that stawt liquor makes a stawt heart, lad! Squire Rich. So I will! and I'll drink ageen, [Drinks for all her. Enter JOHN MOODY. Sir Fran. So, John, how are the horses? J. Moody. Troth, sir, I ha' noa good opinion o' this tawn; it's made up o' mischief, I think. Sir Fran. What's the matter naw? J. Moody. Why, I'll tell your worship-before we were gotten to th' street end, with the coach, here, a great luggerheaded cart, with wheels as thick as a brick wall, laid hawld on't, and has poo'd it aw to bits; crack went the perch! down goes the coach! and whang says the glas ses, all to shivers! Marcy upon us! an this be | I heard him say he would cross the same street London, would we were aw weel in the country again to-morrow; and if we had a mind to stand ageen! in his way, he would pooll us over and over again. Jenny. What have you to do, to wish us all in the country again, Mr Lubber? I hope we shall not go into the country again these seven years, mamma; let twenty coaches be pulled to pieces. Sir Fran. Hold your tongue, Jenny! Was Ro- | ger in no fault in all this? J. Moody. Noa, sir, nor I, noather. Are not yow ashamed, says Roger to the carter, to do such an unkind thing by strangers? Noa, says he, you bumkin. Sir, he did the thing on very purpose! and so the folks said that stood by-Very well, says Roger, yow shall see what our meyster will say to ye! Your meyster, says he; your meyster may kiss my-and so he clapped his hand just there, and like your worship. Flesh! I thought they had better breeding in this town. Sir Fran. I'll teach this rascal some, I'll warrant him! Odsbud! If I take him in hand, I'll play the devil with him. Squire Rich. Aye, do, feyther; have him before the parliament. Sir Fran. Odsbud! and so I will-I will make Squire Rich. What, my name! J. Moody. By my truth, sir, I don't know! Sir Fran. Will he so? Odzooks! get me a constable. Lady Wrong. Pooh! get you a good supper. Come, sir Francis, don't put yourself in a heat for what can't be helped. Accidents will happen to people that travel abroad to see the worldFor my part, I think it's a mercy it was not overturned before we were all out on't. Sir Fran. Why ay, that's true again, my dear. Lady Wrong. Therefore, see to-morrow if we can buy one at second-hand, for present use; sɔ bespeak a new one, and then all's easy. J. Moody. Why, troth, sir, I doan't think this could have held you above a day longer. Sir Fran. D'ye think so, John? J. Moody. Why, you ha' had it ever since your worship were high sheriff. Sir Fran. Why, then, go and see what Doll has got us for supper-and come and get off my boots. [Exit SIR FRAN. Lady Wrong. In the mean time, miss, do you step to Handy, and bid her get me some fresh night-clothes. [Exit LADY WRONG. and some for myself, [Exit JENNY. Jenny. Yes, mamma; too. Squire Rich. Ods-flesh! and all alone? what mun I do I'll e'en seek out where t'other pratty miss is, [Exit. Lord Town. Bid them get dinner-lady Grace, sure you-she won a good deal last night. your servant. Enter LADY GRACE, Lady Grace. What, is the house up already? My lady is not drest yet. Lord Town. No matter-it's three o'clockshe may break my rest, but she shall not alter my hours. Lady Grace. Nay, you need not fear that now, for she dines abroad. Lord Town. That, I suppose, is only an excuse for her not being ready yet. Lady Grace. No, upon my word, she is engaged in company. Lord Town. Where, pray? Lady Grace. At my lady Revel's; and you know they never dine till supper-time. VOL II. Lord Town. I know no difference between her winning or losing, while she continues her course of life. Lady Grace. However, she is better in good humour than bad. Lord Town. Much alike: when she is in good humour, other people only are the better for it; when in a very ill humour, then, indeed, I seldom fail to have my share of her. Lady Grace. Well, we won't talk of that now -Does any body dine here? Lord Town. Manly promised me-By the way, madam, what do you think of his last conversation? Lady Grace. I am a little at a stand about it. Lady Grace. Why-I don't know how he can 40 ever have any thoughts of me, that could lay down such severe rules upon wives in my hear ng. Lord Town. Did you think his rules unreasonable? Lady Grace. I can't say I did; but he might have had a little more complaisance before me, at least. Lord Town. Complaisance is only a proof of good breeding, but his plainness was a certain proof of his honesty; nay, of his good opinion of you: for he would never have opened himself so frecly, but in confidence that your good sense could not be disobliged at it. is. Lady Grace. My good opinion of him, brother, has hitherto been guided by yours: but I have received a letter this morning, that shews him a very different man from what I thought him. Lord Town. A letter from whom? Lady Grace. That I don't know; but there it [Gives a letter. Lord Town. Pray, let's see. [Reads.] "The inclosed, madam, fell accidentally into my hands; if it no way concerns you, you will only have the trouble of reading this, from your sincere 'friend, and humble servant, Unknown,' &c. Lady Grace. And this was the inclosed. . Lord Town. I can't think there's any fear of that. Lady Grace. Pray, what is it you do think, then? Lord Town. Why, certainly, that it's much more probable this letter may be all an artifice, than that he is in the least concerned in itEnter a Servant. Ser. Mr Manly, my lord. Lord Town. Do you receive him, while I step a minute in to my lady. [Exit LORD TOWNLY. Enter MANLY. Man. Madam, your most obedient; they told me my lord was here. Lady Grace. He will be here presently; he is but just gone in to my sister. Man. So, then, my lady dines with us? Man. And, pray, how may she have disposed of the rest of the day? Lady Grace. Much as usual; she has visits till about eight; after that, till court-time, she is to be at quadrille, at Mrs Idle's; after the draw[Gives another.ing-room, she takes a short supper with my lady Moonlight; and, from thence, they go together to my lord Noble's assembly. Lord Town. [Reads.] To Charles Manly, Esq.-Your manner of living with me of late, 'convinces me that I now grow as painful to you as to myself: but, however, though you can love me no longer, I hope you will not let me live worse than I did, before I left an honest ' income for the vain hopes of being ever yours. MYRTILLA DUPE.' 'P. S. 'Tis above four months since I received Lady Grace. What think you now? Lady Grace. You see it's directed to himLord Town. That's true; but the postscript seems to be a reproach that I think he is not capable of deserving. Lady Grace. But who could have concern enough to send it to me? Lord Town. I have observed that these sort of letters, from unknown friends, generally come from secret enemies. Lady Grace. What would you have me do in it ? Lord Town. What I think you ought to do— fairly shew it to him, and say I advised you to it. Lady Grace. Will not that have a very odd look from me? Lord Town. Not at all, if you use my name in it; if he is innocent, his impatience to appear so will discover his regard to you. If he is guilty, it will be the best way of preventing his addresses. Lady Grace. But what pretence have I to put him out of countenance? Man. And are you to do all this with her, madam? Lady Grace. Only a few of the visits: I would, indeed, have drawn her to the play; but I doubt we have so much upon our hands, that it will not be practicable. Man. But how can you forbear all the rest of it? Lady Grace. There's no great merit in for bearing what one is not charmed with. Man. And, yet, I have found that very dimcult in my time. Lady Grace. How do you mean? Man. Why, I have passed a great deal of my life in the hurry of the ladies, though I was generally better pleased when I was at quiet without them. Lady Grace. What induced you, then, to be with them? Man. Idleness, and the fashion. Lady Grace. No mistresses in the case? Man. To speak honestly-yes-Being often in the toy-shop, there was no forbearing the baubles. Lady Grace. And of course, I suppose, sometimes you were tempted to pay for them twice as much as they were worth? Man. Why, really, where fancy only makes the choice, madam, no wonder if we are gonerally bubbled in those sort of bargains; which, I confess, has been often my case: for I had constantly some coquette or other upon my hands, |