Lord T. Indeed, sir, you shall not: you he married a profuse young hussy for love, will oblige me if you speak out; for it was without a penny of money. Thus having, like this head I wanted to see you. upon his brave ancestors, provided heirs for the faMan. Why then, my lord, since you oblige mily, he now finds children and interest-mome to proceed-I have often thought that the ney make such a bawling about his ears, that misconduct of my lady has, in a great mea- at last he has taken the friendly advice of his sure, been owing to your lordship's treatment kinsman, the good lord Danglecourt, to run

of her.

Lady G. Bless me!

Lord T. My treatment?

Man. Ay, my lord; you so idolized her before marriage, that you even indulged her like a mistress after it: in short, you continued the lover when you should have taken up the husband; and so, by giving her more power than was needful, she has none where she wants it; having such entire possession of you, she is not mistress of herself.—And, mercy on us! how many fine women's heads have been turned upon the same occasion!

his estate two thousand pounds more in debt,
to put the whole management of what is left
into Paul Pillage's hands, that he may be at
leisure himself to retrieve his affairs, by being
a parliament man.

Lord T. A most admirable scheme indeed!
Man. And with this politic prospect he is
now upon his journey to London-
Lord T. What can it end in?

Man. Pooh! a journey into the country again. Lord T. Do you think he'll stir till his money is gone, or at least till the session is over?

Lord T. Oh, Manly, 'tis too true! there's Man. If my intelligence is right, my lord, the source of my disquiet; she knows, and he won't sit long enough to give his vote for has abused her power. a turnpike.

Man. However, since you have had so much Lord T. How so?

patience, my lord, even go on with it a day Man. Oh, a bitter business; he had scarce or two more; and, upon her ladyship's next a vote in the whole town besides the returnsally, be a little rounder in your expostula-ing officer. Sir John will certainly have it tions: if that don't work-drop her some cool heard at the bar of the house, and send him hints of a determined reformation, and leave about his business again. her-to breakfast upon them.

Lord T. You are perfectly right. How vaInable is a friend in our anxiety!

Man. Therefore, to divert that, my lord, I beg, for the present, we may call another cause. Lady G. Ay, for goodness' sake, let us have

done with this

Lord T. With all my heart.

Lady G. Have you no news abroad, Mr. Manly?

Lord T. Then he has made a fine business of it indeed.

Man. Which, as far as my little interest will go, shall be done in as few days as possible. Lady G. But why would you ruin the poor gentleman's fortune, Mr. Manly?,

Man. No, madam, I would only spoil his project to save his fortune.

Lady G. How are you concerned enough to do either?

Man. Apropos-I have some, madam; and Man. Why I have some obligations to the I believe, my lord, as extraordinary in its kind-family, madam: I enjoy at this time a pretty Lord T. Pray let us have it. estate which sir Francis was heir at law to; Man. Do you know that your country but-by his being a booby, the last will of an neighbour, and my wise kinsman, sir Francis obstinate old uncle gave it to me. Wronghead, is coming to town with his whole forails?

Lord T. The fool! what can be his busiss here?

Re-enter WILLIAMS.

Wil. [To Manly] Sir, here is one of your servants, from your house, desires to speak

Man. Oh! of the last importance, I'll assure with you.
cu-No less than the business of the nation.
Lord T. Explain.

Man. He has carried his election-against ur John Worthland.

my lord?

Man. Will you give him leave to come in, Lord T. Sir-the ceremony's of your own making. [Exit Williams.

Enter JAMES.

Man. Well, James, what's the matter?
James. Sir, here is John Moody just come

Lord T. The deuce! What! for-forMan. The famous borough of Guzzledown. Lord T. A proper representative indeed! Lady G. Pray, Mr. Manly, don't I know him? Man. You have dined with him, madam, to town: he says sir Francis and all the fawhen I was last down with my lord at Bellmont. Lady G. Was not that he that got a little arry before dinner, and overset the tea-table in making his compliments to my lady? Man. The same.

mily will be here to-night, and is in a great hurry to speak with you.

Man. Where is he?

James. At our house, sir: he has been gaping and stumping about the streets, in his Lady G. Pray what are his circumstances? dirty boots, and asking every one he meets if I know but very little of him. they can tell him where he may have a good Man. Then he is worth your knowing, lodging for a parliament man, till he can hire * tell you, madam. His estate, if clear, a handsome whole house, fit for all his family, heve, might be a good two thousand pounds for the winter. year; though, as it was left him saddled

Man. I am afraid, my lord, I must wait two jointures and two weighty mortga-upon Mr. Moody.

pon it, there is no saving what it is- Lord T. Pr'ythee let us have him here; he *1 that he might be sure never to mend it, will divert us.

Man. Oh, my lord, he's such a cub! Not Moody. Why, we came up in such a hurry, but he's so near common sense, that he passes you mun1) think that our tackle was not so for a wit in the family. tight as it should be.

Lady G. I beg of all things we may have him; I am in love with nature, let her dress be never so homely.

Man. Come, tell us all.
Lord T. Come, let us sit down.

all the children with them too?

[They take Chairs. Man. Then desire him to come hither, Man. Pray how do they travel? James. [Exit James Moody. Why, the awld coach, measter; Lady G. Pray what may be Mr. Moody's post? and 'cause my lady loves to do things handMan. Oh! his maître-d'hôtel, his butler, his some, to be sure, she would have a couple of bailiff, his hind, his huntsman, and sometimes cart-horses clapped to the four old geldings, -bis companion. that neighbours might see she went up to Lord T. It runs in my head that the mo- London her coach and six; and so Giles ment this knight has set him down in the Joulter, the ploughman, rides postillion. house, he will get up to give them the earliest Man. Very well! The journey sets out as proof of what importance he is to the public it should do. [Aside] What, do they bring in his own county. Man. Yes, and when they have heard him, Moody. Noa, noa, only the younk squoire he will find that his utmost importance stands and miss Jenny. The other foive 2) are all valued at-sometimes being invited to dinner. out at board, at half-a-crown a head a week, Lady G. And her ladyship, I suppose, will with John Growse, at Smokedunghill farm. make as considerable a figure in her sphere too? Man. Good again! a right English academy Man. That you may depend upon; for (if for younger children! I don't mistake) she has ten times more of the jade in her than she yet knows of: and she will so improve in this rich soil in a here, John? month, that she will visit all the ladies that] Moody. Nay, nay, for that matter, madam, will let her into their houses, and run in debt they're i'very good hands; Joan loves 'em as to all the shopkeepers that will let her into tho'f they were all her own; for she was wet their books: in short, before her important nurse to every mother's babe o'um- Ay, ay, spouse has made five pounds by his eloquence they'il ne'er want a bellyful there. Why we at Westminster, she will have lost five hun- were in hopes to ha' come yesterday, an it dred at dice and quadrille in the parish of St. had no' been that th' awld weazlebelly horse James's. tired: and then we were so cruelly loaden Lord T. So that, by that time he is declared that the two fore wheels came crash down at unduly elected, 1) a swarm of duns will be once in Waggon-rut-lane, and there we lost ready for their money, and his worship-will four hours 'fore we could set things to rights be ready for a gaol. again.

Man. Yes, yes, that I reckon will close the account of this hopeful journey to LondonBut see, here comes the fore horse of the team! Enter JOHN MOODY.

Oh, honest John!

Moody. Ad's waunds 2) and heart, measter Manly! I'm glad I ha' fun 3) ye. Lawd, lawd, give me your hand! Why that's friendly naw. Flesh! I thought we would never ha' got hither. Well, and how do you do, measter? - Good lack! I beg pardon for my bawldness-I did not see 'at his honour was here.

Moody. Anon, sir. [Not understanding him.
Lord T. And when do you expect them

Man. So they bring all the baggage with the coach, then?

Moody. Ay, ay, and good store on it there is-Why my lady's geer alone were as much as filled four portmantel trunks, beside the great deal box that heavy Ralph3) and the monkey sit upon behind. Lord T. Lady G. Man.

Ha, ha, ha!

Lady G. Well, Mr. Moody, and pray how many are they within the coach?

Moody. Why there's my lady, and his Lord T. Mr. Moody, your servant: I am worship, and the younk squoire, and miss glad to see you in London: I hope all the Jenny, and the fat lapdog, and my lady's maid, good family are well? Mrs. Handy, and Doll Tripe the cook, that's all-Only Doll puked a little with riding backward; so they hoisted her into the coach-box, and then her stomach was easy.

Moody. Thanks be praised, your honour, they are all in pretty good heart, tho'f we have had a power of crosses upo' the road.

Lady G. I hope my lady has had no hurt, Mr. Moody?

Moody. Noa, and please your ladyship, she was never in better humour: there's money enough stirring now.

Man. VVhat has been the matter, John?

1) A sad proof of the want of purity in the election of

the members of Parliament.

2) This is a specimen of the dialect of the people in the north of England, where they pronounce almost as broad as the Scotch, so that, if we compare the change of orthography with the difference of pronunciation,

we shall easily be able to understand: for instance, waunds for wounds, lawd for lord, naw for now, etc. 3) Found.

Lady G. Oh, I see them! I see them go by me. Ha, ha! [Laughing.

Moody. Then you mun think, measter, there was some stowage for the belly as well as the back too; children are apt to be famished upon the road; so we had such cargoes of plumcake, and baskets of tongues, and biscuits, anel cheese, and cold boiled beef-And then, in cas of sickness, bottles of cherry brandy, plague water, sack, tent, and strong beer so plenty as made th' awld coach crack again. Mercy upon them! and send them all well to town, I say Man. Ay, and well out on't again, John. Moody. Odds bud, measter! you're a wis 1) Must. 2) Five. 3) The name of a dog.

Lord T. My service to sir Francis and my lady, John.

Lady G. And mine pray, Mr. Moody. Moody. Ay, your honours; they'll be proud on't, I dare say.

Man. I'll bring my compliments myself: so, honest John

man; and for that matter, so am I-Whoam's 1) whoam, I say: I am sure we ha' got but little good e'er sin we turned our backs on't. Nothing but mischief! Some devil's trick or other plagued us aw 2) the day lung. Crack goes one thing! bawnce goes another! Woa! 3) says Roger-Then sowse! we are all set fast in a slough. Whaw, cries miss! Scream go Moody. Dear measter Manly! the goodness the maids! and bawl just as tho'f they were of goodness bless and preserve you! [Exit. stuck. And so, mercy on us! this was the Lord T. What a natural creature 'tis! trade from morning to night. But my lady Lady G. Well, I can't but think, John, in was in such a murrain haste to be here, that a wet afternoon, in the country, must be very set out she would, tho'f I told her it was Chil-good company. dermas day. *)

Man. These ladies, these ladies, JohnMoody. Ay, measter! I ha' seen a little of them: and I find that the best-when she's mended, won't ha' much goodness to spare. Lord T, Well said, John-Ha, ha!

Man. I hope, at least, you and your good Woman agree still.

Moody. Ay, ay, much of a muchness. Bridget sticks to me; though as for her goodnesswhy, she was willing to come to London too -But bauld a bit! Noa, noa, says I, there may be mischief enough done without you. Man. Why that was bravely spoken, John, and like a man.

Moody. Ah, weast heart! were measter but hawf the mon that I am-Odds wookers! tho'f bell speak stautly too sometimes-But then he canno' hawld it-no, he canno' hawld it.

Lord T.
Lady G.

Man.

}

Ha, ha, ha!

Lord T. Oh, the tramontane! If this were known at half the quadrille tables in town, they would lay down their cards to laugh at you.

Lady G. And the minute they took them up again they would do the same at the losers -But to let you see that I think good company may sometimes want cards to keep them together, what think you, if we three sat soberly down to kill an hour at ombre?

Man. I shall be too hard for you, madam. Lady G. No matter, I shall have as much advantage of my lord as you have of me.

Lord T. Say you so, madam? have at you then. Here! get the ombre table and cards.

[Exit.

Lady G. Come, Mr. Manly I know you don't forgive me now.

Man. I don't know whether I ought to forgive your thinking so, madam. Where do you imagine I could pass my time so agreeably? Lady G. I'm sorry my lord is not here to take his share of the compliment-But he'll wonder what's become of us.

Moody. Odds flesh! but I mun hie me [Exit. whoam; the coach will be coming every hour Man. It must be so- -She sees I love her naw-but measter charged me to find your-yet with what unoffending decency she worship out; for he has hugey business with avoids an explanation! How amiable is every you, and will certainly wait upon you by that hour of her conduct! What a vile opinion time he can put on a clean neckcloth. Man. Ob, John, I'll wait upon him. Moody. Why you wonno' be so kind, wull ye? Man. If you'll tell me where you lodge. Moody. Just i'the street next to where your worship dwells, at the sign of the Golden-ball -its gold all over, where they sell ribbons and flappits, and other sort of geer for gentle

women.

have I had of the whole sex for these ten
years past, which this sensible creature has
recovered in less than one! Such a compa-
nion, sure, might compensate all the irksome
disappointment that folly and falsehood ever
gave me!

Could women regulate, like her, their lives,
What halcyon days were in the gift of wives;
Vain rovers then might envy what they hate,
And only fools would mock the married state.
[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-MRS. MOTHERLY'S House. Enter COUNT BASSET and MYRTILLA. Count B. Myrtilla, how dost thou do, child? Myr. As well as a losing gamester can.

Count B. Pshaw! hang these melancholy thoughts! Suppose I should help thee to a good husband?

Myr. I suppose you'll think any one good enough, that will take me off o'your hands. Count B. What do you think of the young country squire, the heir of the family that's coming to lodge here?

Myr. How should I know what to think of him? Count B. Nay, I only give you the hint, child; it may be worth your while at least to look about you.

Enter MRS. MOTHERLY, in haste.
Mrs. M. Sir! sir! the gentleman's coach is

at the door; they are all come.

Jenny. I hope you will see me in a better

Count B. What, already? Mrs. M. They are just getting out!-Won't to-morrow, sir. you step and lead in my lady? Do you be in

[Lady W.whispers Mrs.M.pointing to Myr. the way, niece; I must run and receive them. Mrs. M. Only a niece of mine, madam, that [Exit. lives with me: she will be proud to give your

Jenny. Oh, mamma, I am never strange in a strange place. [Salutes Myrtilla. Myr. You do me a great deal of honour, madam-Madam, your ladyship's welcome to London.

Count B. And think of what I told you. [Exit. ladyship any assistance in her power. Myr. A faithless fellow! I am sure have Lady W. A pretty sort of a young woman been true to him; and, for that only reason,-Jenny, you two must be acquainted. he wants to be rid of me. But while women are weak, men will be rogues. Enter MRS. MOTHERLY, showing in LADY WRONGHEAD, led by COUNT BASSET. Mrs. M. If your ladyship pleases to walk into this parlour, madam, only for the present, till your servants have got all your things in. Lady W. Well, dear sir, this is so infinitely obliging-I protest it gives me pain, though, to turn you out of your lodging thus.

Count B. No trouble in the least, madam: we single fellows are soon moved; besides, Mrs. Motherly's my old acquaintance, and I could not be her hinderance.

Jenny. Mamma, I like her prodigiously; she called me my ladyship.

Squire R. Pray, mother, mayn't I be acquainted with her too?

Lady W. You, you clown! stay till you learn a little more breeding first.

Sir F. Odds heart, my lady Wronghead! why do you baulk the fad? how should he ever learn breeding, if he does not put himself forward?

Squire R. Why, ay, feyther, does mother think that I'd be uncivil to her?

Mrs. M. The count is so well-bred, madam, I dare say he would do a great deal more to accommodate your ladyship. Myr. Master has so much good humour, Lady W. Oh, dear madam!-A good, well-madam, he would soon gain upon any body. bred sort of a woman. [Apart to the Count. [He kisses Myrtilla. Count B. Oh, madam! she is very much Squire R. Lo' you there, mother! and you among people of quality; she is seldom without would but be quiet, she and I should do well them in her house.

Lady W. Are there a good many people of quality in this street, Mrs. Motherly?

Mrs. M. Now your ladyship is here, madam, I don't believe there is a house without them. Lady W. I am mighty glad of that; for, really, I think people of quality should always live among one another.

Count B. 'Twas what one would choose, indeed, madam.

Lady W. Bless me! but where are the children all this while?

Sir F. [Without] John Moody! stay you by the coach, and see all our things outCome, children.

Enter SIR FRANCIS WRONGHEAD, SQUIRE
RICHARD, and MISS JENNY.

Sir F. Well, count, I mun say it, this was koynd), indeed.

Count B. Sir Francis, give me leave to bid you welcome to London."

Sir F. Pshaw! how dost do, mon?-Waunds, I'm glad to see thee! A good sort of a house this.

Count B. Is not that master Richard? Sir F. Ey, ey, that's young hopeful-Why dost not baw, Dick?

Squire R. So I do, feyther.

Count B. Sir, I'm glad to see you-I protest, Mrs. Jane is grown so, I should not have known her.

Sir F. Come forward, Jenny. Jenny. Sure, papa! do you think I don't know how to behave myself?

Count B. If I have permission to approach her, sir Francis.

Jenny. Lord, sir, I'm in such a frightful pickle![Salute. Count B. Every dress that's proper must become you, madam-you have been a long journey.

1) Kind.

enough.

Lady W. Why, how now, sirrah! boys must not be so familiar.

Squire R. Why, an I know nobody, how the murrain mun I pass my time here, in a strange place? Naw you and I, and sister, forsooth, sometimes, in an afternoon, may play at one and thirty bone-ace, purely,

Jenny. Speak for yourself, sir: d'ye think I play at such clownish games?

Squire R. Why, and you woant yo' ma' let it aloane; then she and I, mayhap, will have a bawt) at all-fours 2), without you.

Sir F. Noa, noa, Dick, that won't do neither; you mun learn to make one at ombre, here, child.

Myr. If master pleases, I'll show it him. Squire R. What, the lumber! Hoy-day! why, does our river run to this tawn, feyther?

Sir F. Pooh! you silly tony! ombre is a geam at cards, that the better sort of people play three together at.

Squire R. Nay, the moare the merrier, I say; but sister is always so cross-grained

Jenny. Lord! this boy is enough to deaf people—and one has really been stuffed up in a coach so long that-Pray, madam-could not I get a little powder 3) for my hair?

Myr. If you please to come along with me, madam. [Exeunt Myrtilla and Jenny. Squire R. What, has sister taken her away naw! mess, I'll go and have a little game with them. [Exil

Lady W. Well, count, I hope you wont so far change your lodgings, but you will come and be at home here sometimes.

Sir F. Ay, ay, pr'ythee, come and take a bit of mutton with us, naw and tan +), when thou'st nought to do.

Bout. 2) A very genteel game of cards.

3) What would the ladies, of the present day think of the use of powder, which levels all distinctions of jet black anburn, etc.? 4) Now and then.

Count B. Well, sir Francis, you shall find your election did not cost you a trifle, I suppose. I'll make but very little ceremony.

Sir F. Why, let him go to the devil! no matter and the hawnds had had him a month agoe-But I wish the coach and horses were got safe to the ion! This is a sharp tawn, we a mun look about us here, John; therefore I Sir F. Petition! why, ay! there let it liewould have you go along with Roger, and we'll find a way to deal with that, I warrant see that nobody runs away with them before you!-Why you forget, cousin, sir John's o' they get to the stable. the wrung side 1), mon! Moody. Alas a day, sir, I believe our auld cattle won't yeasly be run away with to night-but howsomdever, we'st ta' 5) the best Care we can of um, poor sawls.