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some feathers to burn under his nose-Hungary | building, sir; but you had better walk about, and water to rub his temples~0, he comes to him- cool by degrees, than venture immediately to the self! Hem a little, sir; hem- Gipsey, bring air : but you'll find some tolerable pictures.the cordial water.
Dorinda, 'shew the gentleman the way. (Exit.] [AIMWELL seems to awake in amaze. I must go to the poor woman below. Dor. How do you, sir?
Dor. This way, sir. Aim. Where am I?
(Rising. Aim. Ladies, shall I beg leave for my servant Sure I have passed the gulph of silent death, to wait on you, for he understands pictures very And now am landed on the Elysian shore
well. Behold the goddess of those happy plains,
Mrs Sul. Sir, we understand originals as well Fair Proserpine-Let me adore thy bright divi- as he does pictures, so be may come along. nity.
[Ereunt DORINDA, MRS SULLEN, ARCHER, [Kneels to DORINDA, and kisses her hand. AIMWELL leads DORINDA. Mrs Sul. So, so, so ! I knew where the fit would end.
Enter FOIGARD and SCRUB, meeting. Aim. Eurydice, perhaps
Foig. Save you, master Scrub ! How could thy Orpheus keep his word,
Scrub. Sir, I won't be saved your way-I hate And not look back on thee?
a priest; I abhor the French; and I defy the No treasure but thyself could sure have bribed devil. Sir, I am a bold Briton, and will spill
the last drop of my blood to keep out popery To look one minute off thee.
and slavery. Lady Boun. Delirious, poor gentleman ! | Foig. Master Scrub, you would put me down Arch. Very delirious, madam, very delirious. in politics, and so I would be speaking with Mrs Aim. Martin's voice, I think.
Arch. Yes, my lord. How does your lord Scrub. Good Mr Priest, you can't speak with ship?
her; she's sick, sir; she's gone abroad, sir; she's Ludy Boun. Lord ! did you mind that, girls ? |-dead two months ago, sir. Aim. Where am I? Arch. In very good hands, sir. You were ta
Enter Girsey. ken just now with one of your old fits, under the Gip. How now, impudence! How dare you trees, just by this good lady's house; her lady- talk so saucily to the doctor? Pray, sir, don't ship had you taken in, and has miraculously take it ill; for the common people of England brought you to yourself, as you see
| are not so civil to strangers, as Aim. I am so confounded with shame, ma-1 Scrub. You lie, you lie; 'tis the common peodam, that I can now only beg pardon and re- ple, such as you are, that are civilest to stranfer my acknowledgments for your ladyship's care, gers. till an opportunity offers of making some amends. Gip. Sirrah, I have a good mind to Get you I dare to be no longer troublesome. Martin, out, I say. give two guineas to the servants. Going / Scrub. I won't.
Dor. Sir, you may catch cold by going so soon Gip. You won't, sauce-box--Pray, doctor, what into the air ; you don't look, sir, as if you were is the captain's name that came to your inn last perfectly recovered.
night? [Here Archer talks to LADY BOUNTIFUL Scrub. The captain ! ah, the devil! there she in dumb shew.)
bampers me again; the captain has me on one Aim. That I shall never be, madam; my pre side, and the priest on t'other-So, between the. sent illness is so rooted, that I must expect to gown and the sword, I have a fine tiine on't. carry it to my grave.
Lady Boun. Come, sir, your servant has been Gip. What, sirrah, won't you march? telling me that you're apt to relapse, if you go in-1 Scrub. No, my dear, I won't march—but I'll to the air-Your good manners shan't get the walk : And I'll make bold to listen a little, too. better of ours-You shall sit down again, sir
[Goes behind the scene, and listens. Come, sir, we don't mind ceremonies in the coun- Gip. Indeed, doctor, the count has been bartry-Here, Gipsey, bring the cordial water barously treated, that's the truth on't. Here, sir, my service t'ye-You shall taste my Foig. Ah, Mrs Gipsey, upon my shoul, now water; 'tis a cordial, I can assure you, and of gra, his complainings would mollify the marrow my own making. [AIMWELL drinks.) Drink it in your bones, and move the bowels of your comoff, sir. And how d'ye find yourself now, sir? miseration; he weeps, and he dances, and he
Aim. Somewhat better though very faint fistles, and he swears, and he laughs, and he still.
stamps, and he sings; in conclusion, joy, he's afLady Boun. Aye, aye; people are always faint ficted, à la François, and a stranger would not after those fils. Come, girls, you shall shew the know whider to cry or to laugh with him. gentleman the house : 'tis but an old family Gip. What would you have me do, doctor?
Forg. Noting, joy, but only hide the count in was too much a gentleman to tell. Mrs Sullen's closet, when it is dark.
| Mrs Sul. If he were secret, I pity him. Gip. Nothing! Is that nothing? It would be Arch. If he were successful, I envy him. both a sin and a shamne, doctor.
Mrs Sul. How d'ye like that Venus over the Foig. Here are twenty louisdores, joy, for chimney? your shame, and I will give you an absolution Arch. Venus ! I protest, madam, I took it for for the shin.
your picture; but, now I look again, 'tis not Gip. But won't that money look like a bribe? handsome enough.
Foig. Dat is according as you shall tauk it.- Mrs Sul. Oh, what a charm is flattery! If you If you receive the money before-hand, 'twill be, would see my picture, there it is, over the cabi, logice, a bribe : but if you stay till afterwards, net—How d’ye like it? ?twill be only a gratification.
| Arch. I must admire any thing, madam, that Gip. Well, doctor, I'll take it logice. But has the least resemblance of you-But, methinks, what must I do with my conscience, sir? madam-[He looks at the picture and Mrs Sul
Foig. Leave dat wid me, joy; I am your LEN, three or four times by turns.] Pray, madam, priest, gra; and your conscience is under my who drew it? hands.
Mrs Sul. A famous hand, sir. Gip. But should I put the count into the clo
[Here AIMWELL and DORINDA go off.
Arch. A famous hand, madam Your eyes, Foig. Vell, is dere any shin for a man's being | indeed, are featured here ; but where's the in a closhet? One may go to prayers in a clo- sparkling moisture, shining Auid, in which they shet.
swim? The picture, indeed, has your dimples; Gip. But if the lady should come into her but where's the swarm of killing Cupids that chamber, and go to bed?
should ambush there? The lips too are figured Foig. Vell, and is dere any shin in going to- out; but where's the carnation dew, the pouting bed, joy?
| ripeness, that tempts the taste in the original ? Gip. Aye, but if the parties should meet, doc Mrs Sul. Had it been my lot to have matched tor?
with such a man!
(Aside. Foig. Vell, den-the parties must be responsi- Arch. Your breasts too, presumptuous man ! ble. Do you begone after putting the count in- what ! paint Heaven! A-propos, madam, in the to the closhet; and leave the shins wid themselves. very next picture is Salmoneus, that was struck I will come with the count to instruct you in dead with lightning, for offering to imitate Jove's your chamber.
thunder. I hope you served the painter so, Gip. Well, doctor, your religion is so purem adam. Methinks I'm so easy after an absolution, and Mrs Sul. Had my eyes the power of thunder, can sin afresh with so much security, that I'm they should employ their lightning better. resolved to die a martyr to't-Here's the key of Arch. There's the finest bed in that room, the garden-door; come in the back way, when madam; I suppose 'tis your ladyship's bed-cham'tis late-I'll be ready to receive you; but don't ber. so much as whisper, only take hold of my hand; | Mrs Sul. And what then, sir? I'll lead you, and do you lead the count, and fol Arch. I think the quilt is the richest that I low me.
[Ereunt. ever saw, I can't, at this distance, madam, dis
tinguish the figures of the embroidery. Will you Enter SCRUB.
give me leave, madam? Scrub. What witchcraft now have these two Mrs Sul. The devil take his impudenceimps of the devil been a hatching here? There's Sure, if I gave him an opportunity, he durst not twenty louisdores; I heard that, and saw the be rude. I have a great mind to trypurse: but I must give room to my betters. |[Going, returns.] 'Sdeath! what am I doing!
-And alone too! Sister, sister! Enter MRS SULLEN and ARCHER.
Arch. I'll follow her close_ Mrs Sul. Pray, sir, [To Archer.] how d'ye For where a Frenchman durst attempt to storm, like that piece?
A Briton sure may well the work perform. Arch. O, 'tis Leda-You fiud, madam, how
[Going Jupiter came disguised to make love Mrs Sul. Pray, sir, what head is that in the
Enter SCRUB. corner there?
Scrub. Martin ! Brother Martin ! Arch. O, madam, 'tis poor Ovid in his exile. Arch. O brother Scrub, I beg your pardon, I Mrs Sul. What was he banished for?
was not a going : here's a guinea my master orArch. His ambitious love, madam. (Bowing.] dered you. His misfortune touches me.
Scrub. A guinea ! hi, hi, hi! a guinea ! eh Mrs Sul. Was he successful in his amours? by this light it is a guinea; but, I suppose, you Arch. There he has left us in the dark- He expect twenty shillings in change.
Arch. Not at all; I have another for Gipsey. Dor. O my conscience, I fancy you could beg
Scrub. A guinea for her! Fire and faggot for that fellow at the gallows foot. the witch- Sir, give me that guinea; and I'll | Mrs Sul. O' my conscience I could, provided discover a plot.
I could put a friend of yours in his room. Arch. A plot!
Dor. "You desired me, sister, to leave you, Scrub. Ay, sir; a plot, a horrid plot-First, it when you transgressed the bounds of honour. . must be a plot, because there's a woman in't : Mrs Sul. Thou dear, censorious, country girl secondly it must be a plot, because there's alWhat dost mean? You can't think of the man priest in't: thirdly, it must be a plot, because without the bed-fellow, I find. there's French gold in't : and fourthly, it must Dor. I don't find any thing unnatural in that be a plot, because I don't know wbat to make thought; while the mind is conversant with flesh
and blood, it must conforın to the humours of the Arch. Nor any body else, I'm afraid, brother company. Scrub.
Mrs Sul. How a little love and conversation Scrub. Truly I'm afraid so, too ; for, where improve a woman! Why, child, you begin to live. there's a priest and a woman, there's always a mys. You never spoke before. stery, and a riddle--This I know, that here has been Dor. Because I was never spoke to before : the doctor with a temptation in one hand, and my lord has told me that I have more wit and an absolution in the other, and Gipsey has sold beauty than any of the sex; and, truly, I begin herself to the devil; I saw the price paid down; to think the man is sincere. my eyes shall take their oath on't.
Mrs Sul, You're in the right, Dorinda ; pride Arch. And is all this bustle about Gipsey ? is the life of a woman, and flattery is our daily
Scrub. That's not all ; I could hear but a bread. But I'll lay you a guinea that I had finer word here and there ; but I remember they things said to me than you bad. mentioned a count, a closet, a back-door, and a | Dor. Done! What did your fellow say to key
Arch. The count! did you hear nothing of Mrs Sul. My fellow took the picture of Ve Mrs Sullen?
nus for mine. Scrub. I did hear some word that sounded that Dor, But my lover took me for Venus herway: but whether it was Sullen or Dorinda, Iself. could not distinguish.
Mrs Sul. Common cant! Hąd my spark calArch. You have told this matter to nobody, led me a Venus directly, I should have believed brother?
him to be a footman in good earnest. Scrub. Told! No, sir, I thank you for that; Dor. But my lover was upon his knees to me. I'm resolved never to speak one word, pro nor Mrs Sul. And mine was upon his tiptoes to con, till we have a peace.
me. Arch. You're in the right, brother Scrub. Dor. Mine vowed to die for me. Here's a treaty a-foot between the count and Mrs Sul. Mine swore to die with me. the lady.—The priest and the chamber-maid are Dor. Mipe kissed my hand ten thousand plenipotentiaries. It shall go hard but I'll find a times. way to be included in the treaty. Where's the Mrs Sul. Mine has all that pleasure to come. doctor now?
Dor. Mine spoke the softest, moving thịngs. Scrub. He and Gipsey are this moment de- | Mrs Sul. Mine had his moving things, too. vouring my lady's marmalade in the closet.
Dor. Mine offered marriage. Aim. [From without.] Martin, Martin !
Mrs Sul. O Lard! D’ye call that a moving Arch. I come, sir; I come.
thing? Scrub. But you forget the other guinca, bro Dor. The sharpest arrow in his quiver, my ther Martin.
dear sister: Why, my twenty thousand pounds Arch. Here, I give it with all my heart. may lie brooding here these seven years, and
Scrub, And I take it with all my soul. [Exeunt hatch nothing at last but some ill-natured clown severally. Ecod, I'll spoil your plotting, Mrs like yours: Whereas, if I marry my lord AimGipsey: and if you should set the captain upon well, there will be a title, place, and precedence, me, these two guineas will buy me off. [Erit. the park, the play, and the drawing-room, splen
dour, equipage, noise, and flambeaux-Hey! my -- Enter MRS SULLEN and DORINDA, meeting | lady Aimwell's servants there! Lights, lights, to Mrs Sul. Well, sister.
the stairs !-My lady Aimwell's coach, put for. Dor. And well, sister.
ward !-Stand by; make room for her ladyship!-Mrs Sul. What's become of my lord ? Are not these things moving? What, melancholy Dor. What's become of his servant?
of a sudden! Mrs Sul. Servant ! He's a prettier fellow, and Mrs Sul. Happy, happy, sister! Your angel a finer gentleinan, by fifty degrees, than his mas- has been watchful for your happiness, whilst ter.
mine has slept regardless of his charge-Long
smiling years of circling joys for you; but not
Enter FOICARD. one hour for me!
[Weeps. Dor. Come, my dear, we'll talk on something / Foig. Save you, noble friend. else.
Aim. ( sir, your servant. Pray, doctor, may Mrs Sul. O Dorinda! I own myself a woman, I crave your name? full of my sex, a gentle, generous soul-easy and Foig. Fat naam is upon me! My naam i yielding to soft desires; a spacious heart, where / Foigard, joy. love, and all his train, might lodge: And must! Aim. Foigard ! a very good name for a clergythe fair apartment of my breast be made a sta- man. Pray, doctor Foigard, were you ever in ble for a brute to lie in ?
Ireland? Dor. Meaning your husband, I suppose? Foig. Ireland ! no, joy. Fat sort of place is
Mrs Sul. Husband ! No-Even husband is too dat saam Ireland ? Dey say, de people are catchsoft a name for him- But come, I expect my ed dere when dey are young. brother here to-night, or to-morrow : He was Aim. And some of them here, when they are abroad when my father married me; perhaps old-as for example, Takes ForGARD by the he'll find a way to make me easy.
shoulder.)--Sir, I arrest you as a traitor against Dor. Will you promise not to make yourself the government; you're a subject of England, easy, in the mean time, with my lord's friend? and this morning shewed me a commission, by
Mrs Sul. You mistake me, sister: it happens which you served as chaplain in the French arwith us, as among the men, the greatest talkers iny. This is death by our law, and your reverare the greatest cowards: and there's a reason ence must hang for it. for it; those spirits evaporate in prattle, which Foig. Upon my shoul, noble friend, dis is strange might do more mischief if they took another news you tell me; fader Foigard a subject of course- Though, to confess the truth, I do England! the son of a burgomaster of Brussels a love that fellow; and if I met him drest as he subject of England ! Uboohoo.should be, and I undrest as I should be
Aim. The son of a bog-trotter in Ireland! sir, Look'e, sister, I have no supernatural gifts ; your tongue will condemn you before any bench I can't swear I could resist the temptation in the kingdom, though I can safely promise to avoid it; and Foig. And is my tongue all your evidensh, that's as much as the best of us can do.
[Exeunt.' Aim. That's enough.
1. Foig. No, no, joy; for I will never speak EngEnter AUMWELL and ARCIER, laughing. } lish no inore.
Arch. And the aukward kindness of the good! Aim. Sir, I have other evidence. Here, Marmotherly old gentlewoman
tin, you know this fellow? Aim. And the coming easiness of the young one. 'Sdeath! 'tis a pity to deceive ber.
Enter ARCHER. Arch. Nay, if you adhere to those principles, stop where you are.
Arch. [In a brogue.-Saave you, my dear Aim. I can't stop, for I love her to distrac-cussen, how does your health ? tion,
Foig. Ah! upon my shoul dere is my countryArch. 'Sdeath, if you love her a hair's breadth man, and his brogue will hang mine.-Aside. beyond discretion, you must go no farther. | Mynhere, Ick wet neat watt hey zacht, Ick Uni
Aim. Well, well, any thing to deliver us from verston ewe neat, sacramant. sauntering away our idle evenings at White's, Aim. Altering your language won't do, sir; Tom's, or Will's, and be stipted to bare looking this fellow knows your person, and will swear to at our old acquaintance, the cards, because our your face. impotent pockets can't afford us a guinea for the Foig. Faash! Fey, is dere brogue upon my mercenary drabs; and ten thousand such rascal- | faash, too? ly tricks-had we outlived our fortunes among Arch. Upon my soulvation dere ish, joyour acquaintance--But now
But, cussen Mackshane, vill you not put a reArch. Aye, now is the time to prevent all this. membrance upon me? Strike while the iron is hot. This priest is the Foig. Mackshane! By St Paatrick, dat is my luckiest part of our adventure; he shall marry naame shure enough! you, and pimp for me.
Aim. I fancy, Archer, you have it. Aim. But I should not like a woman that can Foig. The devil hang you, joy-----By fat acbe so fond of a Frenchman.
quaintance are you my cussen? Arch. Alas, sir, necessity has no law; the la- Arch. O, de devil hang yourshelf, joy; you dy may be in distress. But, if the plot lies as I know we were little boys togeder upon de school, suspect- I must put on the gentleman. But and your foster-inoder's son was married upon here coines the doctor, I shall be ready. my nurse's shister, joy; and so we are Irish cus.
Erit ARCHER. | sens. VOL. II.
Foig. De devil take de relation ! Vel, joy, and break in, and tells us the plate stands in the fat school was it?
| wainscot cupboard in the parlour. Arch. I think it was Aay— Twas Tip-1. Bon. Ay, ay, Mr Bagshot, as the saying is,
knives and forks, cups and cans, tumblers and Foig. Now, upon my shoul, joy, 'twas Kil-tankards There's one tankard, as the saying kenny.
is, that's near upon as big as me; it was a preAim. That's enough for us--Self-confession sent to the squire from his god-mother, and - Come, sir, we must deliver you into the smells of nutmeg and toast like an East India hands of the next magistrate.
ship. Arch. He sends you to goal, you're tried next Houns. Then you say we must divide at the assizes, and away you go swing into purga- stair head. tory.
'Bon. Yes, Mr Hounslow, as the saying is Foig. And is it so wid you, cussen?
At one end of the gallery lies my lady Bountiful Arch. It vil be so vid you, cussen, if you don't and her daughter; and, at the other, Mrs Sulimmediately confess the secret between you and len-As for the squire Mrs Gipsey- Look'e, sir, the gallows or the Gib. He's safe enough; I have fairly entered secret, take your choice.
him, and he's more than half seas over already Foig. The gallows! Upon my shoul, I hate — But such a parcel of scoundrels are got that shame gallows, for it is a diseashe dat is fa- about him there, that, e'gad, I was asbamed to be tal to our family-Vel, den, dere is noting, shen- seen in their company. tlemens, but Mrs Sullen would speak wid de count Bon. 'Tis now twelve, as the saying is-Genin her chamber at midnight, and dere is no harm, tlemen, you must set out at one. joy, for I am to conduct the count to the plaash Gib. Hounslow, do you and Bagshot see our myself.
arms fixed, and I'll come to you presently. 'Arch. As I guessed- Have you communica | Houns. & Bag. We will.
[Ereunt. ted the matter to the count?
Gib. Well, my dear Bonny, you assure me Foig. I have not sheen him since.
that Scrub is a coward? Arch. Right again; why then, doctor,-you Bon. A chicken, as the saying ism-You'll shall conduct me to the lady, instead of the have no creature to deal with but the ladies. count.
Gib. And I can assure you, friend, there's a Foig. Fat, my cussen to the lady! Upon my great deal of address and good-manners in robshoul, gra, dat's too much upon the brogue. bing a lady; I am the most a gentleman that
Arch. Come, come, doctor; consider we have way that ever travelled the road-But, my dear got a rope about your neck, and if you offer to Bonny, this prize will be a galleon, a Vigo busisqueak, we'll stop your wind-pipe, most certain- ness--I warrant you we shall bring off three or ly; we shall have another job for you in a day tour thousand pound. or two, I hope.
Bon. In plate, jewels, and money, as the sayAim. Here's company coming this way; let's ing is, you may. into my cbamber, and there concert our affairs Gib. Why then, Tyburn, I defy thee! I'll get farther.
up to town, sell off my horse and arms, buy myArch. Come, my dear cussen, come along. self some pretty employment in the law, and be Foig. Arra, the devil taake our relashion. as snug and as honest as e'er a long gown of 'em
Bon. And what think you, then, of my daughEnter Boniface, Hounslow, and BAGSHOT, atter Cherry for a wife? one door, Gibber at the opposite.
Gib. Look'e, my dear Bonny-Cherry is the
goddess I adore, as the song goes; but it is a Gib. Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our maxim, that man and wife should never have enterprize.
it in their power to hang one another; for, if Houns. Dark as hell.
they should, the Lord have mercy upon them Bag. And blows like the devil; our landlord both ! here has shew'd us the window where we must