Arch. Pshaw! Damn your raptures! I tell you here's a pump going to be put into the vessel, and the ship will get into harbour, my life on't. You say there's another lady very handsome there? Aim. Yes, faith. Arch. I'm in love with her already. Aim. Can't you give me a bill upon Cherry in the mean time? Arch. No, no, friend; all her corn, wine, and oil is ingrossed to my market. And, once more, I warn you, to keep your anchorage clear of mine; for if you fall foul of me, by this light, you shall go to the bottom !---What! make a prize of my little frigate, while I'm upon the cruize for you? You're a pretty fellow indeed! [Exit ARCH. Enter BONIFACE. Aim. Well, well, I won't.—Landlord, have you any tolerable company in the house? I don't care for dining alone. Bon. Yes, sir; there's a captain below, as the saying is, that arrived about an hour ago. Aim. Gentlemen of his coat are welcome every where; will you make a compliment for me, and tell him, I should be glad of his company, that's all. Bon. Who shall I tell him, sir, would Aim. Ha! that stroke was well thrown inI'm only a traveller, like himself, and would be glad of his company, that's all. Bon. I obey your commands, as the saying is. [Exit BoN. Gib. Sir, I'm yours. Aim. 'Tis more than I deserve, sir, for I don't know you. Gib. I don't wonder at that, sir, for you never saw me before-I hope. [Aside. Aim. And pray, sir, how came I by the honour of seeing you now? Gib. Sir, I scorn to intrude upon any gentleman-but my landlord Aim. O, sir, I ask your pardon; you're the captain he told me of? Gib. At your service, sir. Aim. What regiment, may I be so bold? Gib. A marching regiment, sir; an old corps. Aim. Very old, if your coat be regimental,[Aside. You have served abroad, sir? VOL. II. Gib. Yes, sir, in the plantations; 'twas my lot to be sent into the worst service; I would have quitted it, indeed, but a man of honour, you know-Besides, 'twas for the good of my country that I should be abroad- -Any thing for the good of one's country-I'm a Roman for that. Aim. One of the first, I'll lay my life. [Aside.] You found the West Indies very hot, sir? Gib. Ay, sir, too hot for me. Aim. Pray, sir, ha'nt I seen your face at Will's coffee-house? Gib. Yes, sir, and at White's, too. tain? Gib. They an't come yet. Aim. Why, d'ye expect them here? Gib. Across the country.-The devil's in't if I han't said enough to encourage him to declarebut I'm afraid he's not right, I must tack about. [Aside. Aim. Is your company to quarter at Litchfield? Gib. Ay, sir; you must excuse me. Sir, I understand the world, especially the art of travelling. I don't care, sir, for answering questions directly upon the road-for I generally ride with a charge about me. [Aside. Aim. Three or four, I believe. Gib. I am credibly informed, that there are highwaymen upon this quarter; not, sir, that I could suspect a gentleman of your figure-But truly, sir, I have got such a way of evasion upon the road, that I don't care for speaking truth to any man. Aim. Your caution may be necessary—Then, Į presume, you're no captain? Gib. Not I, sir; captain is a good travelling name, and so I take it; it stops a great many foolish inquiries that are generally made about gentlemen that travel: it gives a man an air of something, and makes the drawers obedientAnd thus far I am a captain, and no farther. Aim. And, pray, sir, what is your true profes sion? Gib. O, sir, you must excuse me upon my word, sir, I don't think it safe to tell you. Aim. Ha, ha! upon my word, I commend you. Enter BONIFACE. Well, Mr Boniface, what's the news? Bon. There's another gentleman below, as the saying is, that, hearing you were but two, would be glad to make the third man, if you'd give him leave. 3 R Aim. What is he? Bon. A clergyman, as the saying is. Aim. A clergyman! Is he really a clergyman ? or is it only his travelling name, as my friend, the captain, has it? Bon. O, sir, he's a priest, and chaplain to the French officers in town. Aim. Is he a Frenchman? Bon. Yes, sir, born at Brussels. Gib. A Frenchman, and a priest! I won't be seen in his company, sir; I have a value for my reputation, sir. Aim. Nay, but captain, since we are by ourselves Can he speak English, landlord? Bon. Very well, sir; you may know him, as the saying is, to be a foreigner, by his accent, and that's all. Aim. Then he has been in England before? Bon. Never, sir, but he's master of languages, as the saying is; he talks Latin; it does me good to bear him talk Latin. Aim. Then you understand Latin, Mr Boniface? Bon. Not I, sir, as the saying is; but he talks it so very fast, that I'm sure it must be good. Aim. Pray, desire him to walk up. Bon. Here he is, as the saying is. Foig. I was educated in France, but I was borned at Brussels: I am a subject of the king of Spain, joy. Gib. What king of Spain, sir? Speak. Foig. Upon my shoul, joy, I cannot tell you as yet. Aim. Nay, captain, that was too hard upon the doctor; he's a stranger. Foig. O let him alone, dear joy; I'in of a nation that is not easily put out of countenance. Aim. Come, gentlemen, I'll end the dispute— Here, landlord, is dinner ready? Bon. Upon the table, as the saying is. [Exit foremost, they follow. SCENE III-Changes to a gallery in LADY BOUNTIFUL'S house. Enter ARCHER and SCRUB singing, and hugging one another; SCRUB with a tankard in his hand, GIPSEY listening at a distance. Scrub. Tall, all, dall!-Come, my dear boylet's have that song once more. Arch. No, no; we shall disturb the familybut will you be sure to keep the secret? Scrub. Pho! upon my honour, as I'm a gentleman. Arch. 'Tis enough You must know, then, that my master is the lord viscount Aimwell; he fought a duel t'other day in London, wounded his man so dangerously, that he thinks fit to withdraw, till he hears whether the gentleman's wounds be mortal or not: he never was in this part of England before, so he chose to retire to this place; that's all. Gib. And that's enough for me. [Erit. Scrub. And where were you when your master fought? Arch. We never know of our masters' quar rels. Scrub. No! if our masters in the country here receive a challenge, the first thing they do is to tell their wives; the wife tells the servants, the servants alarm the tenants, and in half an hour you shall have the whole country up in arms. Arch. To hinder two men from doing what they have no mind for But if you should chance to talk, now, of this business? Scrub. Talk! ah, sir, had I not learned the knack of holding my tongue, I had never lived so long in a great family. Arch. Ay, ay, to be sure, there are secrets in all families. Scrub. Secrets, O Lud!but I'll say no more—Come, sit down, we'll make an end of our tankard. Here Arch. With all my heart: who knows but you and I may come to be better acquainted, eh? -Here's your lady's health: you have three, I think; and to be sure there must be secrets among them. Scrub. Secrets! Ah! friend, friend!——I wish I had a friend. Arch. Am I not your friend? Come, you and I will be sworn brothers. Scrub. Shall we? Arch. From this minute-Give me a kiss! And now, brother Scrub Scrub. And, now, brother Martin, I will tell you a secret that will make your hair stand on end-You must know, that I am consumedly in love. Arch. That's a terrible secret, that's the truth on't. Scrub. That jade, Gipsey, that was with us just now in the cellar, is the arrantest whore that ever wore a petticoat, and I'm dying for love of | her. Arch. Ha, ha, ha!Are you in love with her person, or her virtue, brother Scrub? Scrub. I should like virtue best, because it's more durable than beauty: for virtue holds good with some women, long and many a day after they have lost it. Arch. In the country, I grant ye, where no woman's virtue is lost, till a bastard be found. Scrub. Ay, could I bring her to a bastard, I should have her all to myself; but I dare not put it upon that lay, for fear of being sent for a soldier-Pray, brother, how do you gentleinen in London like that same pressing act? Arch. Very ill, brother Scrub-'Tis the worst that ever was made for us; formerly, I remember the good days when we could dun our masters for our wagcs, and if they refused to pay us, we could have a warrant to carry them before a justice; but now, if we talk of eating, they have a warrant for us, and carry us before three justices. Scrub. And to be sure we go, if we talk of eating; for the justices won't give their own servants a bad example. Now, this is my misfortune I dare not speak in the house, while that jade, Gipsey, dings about like a fury—Once I had the better end of the staff. Arch. And how comes the change now? follow the hounds; on Thursday, I dun the tenants; on Friday, I go to market; on Saturday, I draw warrants; and on Sunday, I draw beer. Arch. Ha, ha, ha! if variety be a pleasure in, life, you have enough on't, my dear brotherBut what ladies are those? Scrub. Ours, ours; that upon the right hand is Mrs Sullen, and the other Mrs Dorinda-Don't mind them; sit still, man— Enter MRS SULLEN and DORINDA. Mrs Sul. I have heard my brother talk of my lord Aimwell; but they say that his brother is the finer gentleman. say. Dor. That's impossible, sister. Mrs Sul. He's vastly rich, and very close, they into Dor. No matter for that; if I can creep his heart, I'll open his breast, I warrant him: I have heard say, that people may be guessed at by the behaviour of their servants; I could wish we might talk to that fellow. Mrs Sul. So do I; for I think he's a very pretty fellow: come this way; I'll throw out a lure for him presently. [They walk a turn to the opposite side of the stage. MRS SULLEN drops her fan; ARCHER runs, takes it up, and gives it to her.] Arch. Corn, wine, and oil, indeed!--But I think Scrub. Why, the mother of all this mischief is the wife has the greatest plenty of flesh and a priest. Arch. A priest! Scrub. Ay, a damned son of a whore of Babylon, that came over hither to say grace to the French officers, and eat up our provisionsThere's not a day goes over his head without a dinner or supper in this house. Arch. How came he so familiar in the family? Scrub. Because he speaks English, as if he had lived here all his life, and tells lies, as if he had been a traveller from his cradle. Arch. And this priest, I'm afraid, has converted the affections of your Gipsey. Scrub. Converted! ay, and perverted, my dear friend-for I'm afraid he has made her a whore and a papist-But this is not all; there's the French count and Mrs Sullen; they're in confederacy, and for some private end of their own, too, to be sure. Arch. A very hopeful family, yours, brother Scrub! I suppose the maiden lady has her lover, too? Serub. Not that I know--She's the best of them, that's the truth on't: but they take care to prevent my curiosity, by giving me so much business, that I am a perfect slave :-What d'ye think is my place in this family? Arch. Butler, I suppose. Scrub. Ah, Lord help your silly head!-I'll tell you-Of a Monday, I drive the coach; of a Tuesday, I drive the plough; on Wednesday, I blood; she should be my choice-Ay, ay, say -What a hand Dor. Bow! Why, I have known several footmen come down from London, set up here for dancing-masters, and carry off the best fortunes in the country. Arch. [Aside.] That project, for aught I know, had been better than ours--Brother Scrub, why don't you introduce me? Scrub. Ladies, this is the strange gentleman's servant that you saw at church to-day; I understood he came from London; and so I invited him to the cellar, that he might shew me the newest flourish in whetting my knives. Dor. And I hope you have made much of him? Arch. O yes, madam; but the strength of your ladyship's liquor is a little too potent for the constitution of your humble servant. Mrs Sul. What, then, you don't usually drink ale? Arch. No, madam; my constant drink is tea, or a little wine and water; 'tis prescribed me by the physician, for a remedy against the spleen. Scrub. O la! O la-a footman have the spleen Mrs Sul. I thought that distemper had been only proper to people of quality. Arch. Madam, like all other fashions, it wears out, and so descends to their servants; though, in a great many of us, I believe it proceeds from some melancholy particles in the blood, occasioned by the stagnation of wages. Mrs Sul. Something for a pair of gloves. Arch. I humbly beg leave to be excused. My Dor. How affectedly the fellow talks!-How master, madam, pays me; nor dare I take molong, pray, have you served your present mas-ney from any other hand, without injuring his ter? Arch. Not long my life has been mostly spent in the service of the ladies. Mrs Sul. And, pray, which service do you like best? Arch. Madam, the ladies pay best; the honour of serving them is sufficient wages; there is a charm in their looks, that delivers a pleasure with their commands, and gives our duty the wings of inclination. Mrs Sul. That flight was above the pitch of a livery: and, sir, would not you be satisfied to serve a lady again? Arch. As groom of the chambers, madam; but not as a footman. Mrs Sul. I suppose you served as footman before? Arch. For that reason, I would not serve in that post again; for my memory is too weak for the load of messages that the ladies lay upon their servants in London: my lady Howd'ye, the last mistress I served, called me up one morning, and told me, Martin, go to my lady Allnight with my humble service; tell her I was to wait on her ladyship yesterday, and left word with Mrs Rebecca, that the preliminaries of the affair she knows of are stopt till we know the concurrence of the person that I know of, for which there are circumstances wanting which we shall accommodate at the old place; but that, in the mean time, there is a person about her ladyship, that from several hints and surmises, was accessary at a certain time to the disappointments that naturally attend things, that to her knowledge are of more importanceMrs Sul. Ha, ha! where are you going, Dor. $ sir? Arch. Why, I han't half done. Scrub. I should not remember a quarter of it. Arch. The whole how d'ye was about half an hour long; so, happened to misplace two syllables, and was turned off, and rendered incapable Dor. The pleasantest fellow, sister, I ever saw. But, friend, if your master be marriedI presume you still serve a lady? Arch. No, madam; I take care never to come into a married family; the commands of the master and mistress are always so contrary, that 'tis impossible to please both. Dor. There's a main point gained.-My lord is not married, I find. [Aside. Mrs Sul. But, I wonder, friend, that in so many good services, you had not a better provision made for you? Arch. I don't know how, madam-I am very well as I am. honour, and disobeying his commands. Scrub. Brother Martin, brother Martin! Arch. What do you say, brother Scrub? Scrub. Take the money, and give it to me. [Exeunt ARCHER and SCRUB, Dor. This is surprising! Did you ever see so pretty a well-bred fellow! Mrs Sul. The devil take him for wearing the livery! Dor. I fancy, sister, he may be some gentleman, a friend of my lord's, that his lordship has pitched upon for his courage, fidelity, and discretion, to bear hini company in this dress, and who, ten to one, was his second. Mrs Sul. It is so, it must be so, and it shall be so!-For I like him. Dor. What! better than the count? Mrs Sul. The count happened to be the most agreeable man upon the place; and so I chose him to serve me in my design upon my husband -But I should like this fellow better in a design upon myself. Dor. But now, sister, for an interview with this lord, and this gentleman; how shall we bring that about? Mrs Sul. Patience! you country ladies give no quarter, if once you be entered.-Would you prevent their desires, and give the fellows no wishing time?-Look'e, Dorinda, if my lord Aimwell loves you, or deserves you, he'll find a way to see you; and there we must leave it—My business comes now upon the tapis—Have you prepared your brother? Dor. Yes, yes. Mrs Sul. And how did he relish it? Dor. He said little, mumbled something to himself, and promised to be guided by me-but here he comes Enter SULLEN. Sul. What singing was that I heard just now? Mrs Sul. The singing in your head, my dear; you complained of it all day. Sul. You're impertinent. Mrs Sul. I was ever so, since I became one flesh with you. Sul. One flesh! rather two carcases joined unnaturally together. Mrs Sul. Or rather, a living soul coupled to a dead body. Dor. So, this is fine encouragement for me! Sul. 'Sdeath! why can't you be silent? Dor. No, no, dear sister; you have missed your mark so unfortunately, that I shan't care for being instructed by you. Enter AIMWELL in a chair, carried by ARCHER and SCRUB, LADY BOUNTIFUL, GIPSEY; AIMWELL counterfeiting a swoon. Lady Boun. Here, here, let's see the hartshorn Arch. Where, where is my lady Bountiful?-drops-Gipsey, a glass of fair water, his fit's Pray, which is the old lady of you three! Lady Boun. I am. Arch. O, madam! the fame of your ladyship's charity, goodness, benevolence, skill, and ability, have drawn me hither to implore your ladyship's help in behalf of my unfortunate master, who is this moment breathing his last. Lady Boun. Your master! Where is he? Arch. At your gate, madam: drawn by the appearance of your handsome house to view it nearer, and walking up the avenue, he was taken ill of a sudden, with a sort of I know not what : but down he fell, and there he lies. Lady Boun. Here, Scrub, Gipsey! all run; get my easy-chair down stairs, put the gentleman in it, and bring him in quickly, quickly. Arch. Heaven will reward your ladyship for this charitable act. Lady Boun. Is your master used to these fits? Arch. O yes, madam, frequently.- -I have known him have five or six of a night. Lady Boun. What's his name? Arch. Lord, madam, he's a dying! a minute's care or neglect may save or destroy his life. Lady Boun. Ah, poor gentleman! Come, friend, shew me the way, I'll see him brought in myself. [Exit with ARCHER. Dor. O, sister! my heart flutters about strangely; I can hardly forbear from running to his as sistance. Mrs Sul. And I'll lay my life he deserves your assistance more than he wants it. Did not I tell you, that my lord would find a way to come at you? Love's his distemper, and you must be the physician; put on all your charms, summon all your fire into your eyes, plant the whole artillery of your looks against his breast, and down with him. Dor. O, sister, I'm but a young gunner! I shall be afraid to shoot, for fear the piece should recoil, and hurt myself. Mrs Sul. Never fear! you shall see me shoot before you, if you will. very strongclenched! -Bless me, how his hands are Arch. For shame, ladies, what d'ye do! Why don't you help us?-Pray, madam, [To DoRINDA.] take his hand, and open it, if you can, whilst I hold his head. [DORINDA takes his hand. Dor. Poor gentleman!-Oh-he has got my hand within his, and squeezes it unmercifullyLady Boun. 'Tis the violence of his convulsion, child. Arch. O, madam! he's perfectly possessed in these cases. He'll bite you, if you don't have care. Dor. Oh, my hand! my hand! Lady Boun. What's the matter with the foolish girl? I have got this hand open, you see, with a great deal of ease. Arch. Aye, but, madam, your daughter's hand is somewhat warmer than your ladyship's, and the heat of it draws the force of the spirits that way. Mrs Sul. I find, friend, you're very learned in these sort of fits. Arch. 'Tis no wonder, madam; for I am often troubled with them myself; I find myself extremely ill at this minute. [Looking hard at MRS SULLEN. Mrs Sul. [Aside.] I fancy I could find a way to cure you. Lady Boun. His fit holds him very long. Arch. Longer than usual, madam. Lady Boun. Where did his illness take him first, pray? Arch. To-day at church, madam. Lady Boun. In what manner was he taken? Arch. Very strangely, my lady. He was of a sudden touched with something in his eyes, which, at the first, he only felt, but could not tell whether 'twas pain or pleasure. Lady Boun. Wind, nothing but wind. Your master should never go without a bottle to smell to-Oh! he recovers-the lavender water |