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! I'gad 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's 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 ceremony, your humble servant. [Exit Count Basset, and drops a letter. Lady Wrong. Ha! what paper's this? Some billetdoux, 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. Pshal 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 l -to my Lord Townly's sister, Lady Grace.

Lady Wrong. Lady Grace!

Moth. Dear madam, it has been in the news-papers!

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.

'Squ. 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, "maids to shew her where she

I'll order one of my may have any thing

"Sir Fran. Thank you kindly, Mrs. Motherly. "'Squ. Rich. Ods-flesh! what is not it i' the hawse 66 yet I shall be famish'd-but hawld! I'll go "and ask Doll, an ther'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.

"'Squ. Rich. With a little nutmeg and sugar, "shawn'a I, feyther.

"Sir Fran. Ay, ay, 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. Exit "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, ev'n 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 66 a quarter as much.

"Jenny. Oh, as for that I could eat a great deal "more, mamma; but then, mayhap, I should grow 66 coarse, like him, and spoil my shape.

"Lady Wrong. Ay, so thou wouldst, my dear.

"Enter 'Squire RICHARD, with a full tankard.

"'Squ. 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!

"'Squ. Rich. Thonk you, feyther.

[Drinks.

"Lady Wrong. Lord, Sir Francis, I wonder you "can encourage the boy to swill so much of that lub"berly liquor-it's enough to make him quite stupid.

'Squ. 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 don'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.

"Squ. Rich. [After a long draught.] Indeed, mo"ther, 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.

"'Squ. "Rich. No, nor she shawnt be my mistress, "while she's younger sister.

"Sir Fran. Well said, Dick! shew 'em that stawt 66 liquor makes a stawt heart, lad!

'Squ. Rich. So I will! and I'll drink ageen, for "all her.

Enter JOHN MOODY.

Sir Fran. So, John, how are the horses?

[Drinks."

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,

G