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Val. I would have an excuse for your bar Jer. Yes, I have a reasonable good ear, sir, as barity and unnatural usage.
to jiggs, and country dances, and the like ; I don't Sir Sam. Excuse ?-Impudence! Why, sirrah, much matter your solos or sonatas; they give mayn't I do what I please? are not you my me the spleen. slave? did not I beget you ? and might not I Sir Sam. The spleen? ha, ha, ha! a pox conhave chosen whether I would have begot you found you !-Solos or sonatas ? Oons, whose son or no? Oons, who are you ? whence came you are you? how were you engendered, muckworm? what brought you into the world ? how came you Jer. I am, by my father, the son of a chairhere, sir? here, to stand here, upon those two man; my mother sold oysters in winter, and legs, and look erect with that audacious face, cucumbers in summer : and I came up stairs hah? Answer me that. Did you
into the world; for I was born in a cellar. volunteer into the world? or did I, with the Fore. By your looks you shall go up stairs out lawful authority of a parent, press you to the of the world too, friend. service?
Sir Sam. And if this rogue were anatomized Val. I know no more why I came, than you now, and dissected, he has h s vessels of digesdo why you called me. But here I am; and if tion and concoction, and so forth, large enough you don't mean to provide for me, I desire you for the inside of a cardinal; this son of a cucumwould leave me as you found me.
ber !—These things are unaccountable and unSir Sam. With all my heart. Come, uncase, reasonable.—Body o'me, why was I not a bear, strip, and go naked out of the world as you came that my cubs might have lived upon sucking their into it.
paws? Nature has been provident only to bears Val. My clothes are soon put off—but you and spiders : the one has its nutriment in its own must also divest me of my reason, thought, pas- hands; and the other spins its habitation out of sions, inclinations, affections, appetites, senses, its own entrails. and the huge train of attendants, that you begot Val. Fortune was provident enough to supply along with me.
all the necessities of my nature, if I had my Sir Sam. Body o'me, what a many-headed right inheritance. monster have I propagated!
Sir Sam. Again! Oons, han't you four thouVal. I am, of myself, a plain, easy, simple sand pounds ? - If I had it again I would not give creature, and to be kept at small expence: thee a groat.-W hat, wouldst thou have me turn but the retinue, that you gave me, are crav- pelican, and feed thee out of my own vitals ing and invincible; they are so many devils, Odsheart, live by your wits you were always that you have raised, and will have employ- fond of the wits.--Now let's see if you have wit ment.
enough to keep yourself. Your brother will be Sir Sam. Oons! what had I to do to get in town to-night, or to-morrow morning; then children? - can't a private man be born with look you perform covenants, and so your friend out all these followers? Why, nothing under and servant.—Come, brother Foresight. an emperor should be born with appetites—why, (Exeunt SIR SAMPSON and FORESIGHT. at this rate, a fellow, that has but a groat in his Jer. I told you what your visit would come pocket, may have a stomach capable of a ten to. shilling ordinary.
Val. 'Tis as much as I expected- I did not Jer. Nay, that's as clear as the sun; I'll come to see him : I came to see Angelica; but make oath of it before any justice in Middle since she was gone abroad, it was easily turned
another way, and at least looked well on my Sir Sam. Here's a cormorant, too!'Sheart, side. What's here? Mrs Foresight and Mrs Fral! this fellow was not born with you ?—I did not | They are earnest-I'll avoid them.—Come this þeget him, did I?
way, and go and inquire when Angelica will reJer. By the provision that's made for me, turn.
[Ereunt. you might have begot me, too.—Nay, and to tell your worship another truth, I believe you Enter MRS FORESIGHT and MRS FRAIL. did; for I find I was born with those same whoreson appetites, too, that my master speaks Mrs Frail. What have you to do to watch of.
me? 'Slife, I'll do what I please. Sir Sam. Why, look you there now ! - I'll Mrs Fore. You will? maintain it, that by the rule of right reason, Mrs Frail. Yes, marry, will I. A great piece this fellow ought to have been born without a of business to go to Covent-garden, to take a turn palate.—'Sheart, what should he do with a dis in a hackney-coach with one's friend! tinguishing taste ?-I warrant now, he'd rather Mirs Fore. Nay, two or three turns, I'll take eat a pheasant, than a piece of poor John—and my oath. smell, now; why I warrant he can smell, and Mrs Frail. Well, what if I took twenty! I loves perfumes above a stink, why there's it; warrant, if you had been there, it had only been and music-don't you love music, scoundrel? innocent recreation ! Lord, where's the culturt
of this life, if we can't have the happiness of con- | wounded, let us do, what is often done in duels, versing where we like?
take care of one another, and grow better friends Mrs Fore. But can't you converse at home? than before. I own it, I think there's no happines like conver Mrs Frail. With all my heart. Well, give me sing with an agreeable man; I don't quarrel at your hand, in token of sisterly secrecy and affecthat, nor I don't think but your conversation was tion. very innocent. But the place is public; and to Mrs Fore. Here it is, with all my heart. be seen with a man in a hackney-coach, is scan Mrs Frail. Well, as an earnest of friendship dalous. What if any body else should have seen and confidence, I'll acquaint you with a design you aliyht, as I did ? How can any body be happy, that I have. I'm afraid the world have observed while they are in perpetual fear of being seen and us more than we have observed one another. censured? Besides, it would not only reflect upon You have a rich husband, and are provided for : you, sister, but on me.
I am at a loss, and have no great stock either of Mrs Frail. Pooh, here's a clutter! Why should fortune or reputation, and therefore must look it reflect upon you? I don't doubt but you have sharply about me. Sir Sampson has a son, that thought yourself happy in a hackney-coach before is expected to-night; and, by the account I have now? If I had gone to Knightsbridge, or to Chel- heard of his education, can be no conjurer. The sea, or to Spring-garden, or to Barn-elms, with a estate, you know, is to be made over to him. man alone—something might have been said. Now, if I could wheedle him, sister, ha? you un
Mrs Fore. Why, was I ever in any of those derstand me? places? What do you mean, sister?
Mrs Fore. I do; and will help you, to the utMrs Frail. Was I? What do you mean? most of my power. And I can tell you one thing Mrs Fore. You have been at a worse place. that falls out luckily enough; my awkward daugh
Mrs Frail. I at a worse place, and with a ter-in-law, who, you know, is designed to be his man?
wife, is grown fond of Mr Tattle; now, if we can Mrs Fore. I suppose you would not go alone improve that, and make her have an aversion for to the World's-end.
the booby, it may go a great way towards his likMrs Frail. The World's-end ! What, do you ing you. Here they come together; and let us mean to banter me?
contrive some way or other to leave them togeMrs Fore. Poor innocent! you don't know ther. that there is a place called the World's-end? I'll swear, you can keep your countenance purely;
Enter TATTLE and Miss PRUE. you'd make an admirable player !
Mrs Frail. I'll swear you have a great deal of Miss Prue. Mother, mother, mother! look you contidence, and, in my mind, too much for the here? stage.
Mrs Fore. Fie, fie, miss, how you bawl! BeMrs Fore. Very well, that will appear who has sides, I have told you, you must not call me momost. You never were at the World's-end? ther. Mrs Frail. No.
Miss Prue. What must I call you, then ? are Mrs Fore. You deny it positively to my face? | you not my father's wife? Mrs Frail. Your face! what's your face? Mrs Fore. Madam; you must say madam. By Mrs Fore. No matter for that; it's as good a my soul, I shall fancy myself old indeed, to have
this great girl call me mother. Well, but, miss, Mrs Frail
. Not by a dozen years wearing. what are you so overjoyed at? But I do deny it positively to your face, then. Miss Prue. Look you here, madam, then, what
Mrs Fore. I'll allow you now to tind fault with Mr Tattle has given me. Look you here, cousin ; my face; for I'll swear your impudence has put here's a snuff-box; nay, there's snuff in't-bere, me out of countenance. But look you here now, will you have any? Oh good! how sweet it is ! -where did you lose this gold bodkin? Oh, sis Mr Tattle is all over sweet; his peruke is sweet, ter, sister!
and his gloves are sweet, and his handkerchief is Mrs Frail. My bodkin!
sweet, pure sweet, sweeter than rosessmell Mrs Fore. Nay, 'tis yours; look at it.
him, niother-madam, I mean. He gave me this Mrs Frail. Well, if you go that, where did you ring, for a kiss. find this bodkin?-Oh, sister, sister! sister every Tatt. O fie, miss! you must not kiss, and tell. way!
Miss Prue. Yes; I may tell my mother-and Mrs Fore. O, devil on't! that I could not dis he says he'll give me something to make me cover, without betraying myself! (Aside. smell so. Oh, pray, lend me your handkerchiet.
Mrs Frail. I have heard gentlemen say, sister, Smell, cousin; he says, he'll give me something, that one should take great care, when one makes that will make my smocks smell this way. Is not a thrust in fencing, not to lay open one's self. it pure? It's better than lavender, mun. I'm re
Mrs Fore. It is very true, sister. Well, since solved I won't let nurse put any more lavender all's out, and, as you say, since we are both among my smocks-ha, cousin?
face as yours.
Mrs Frail. Fie, miss ! amongst your linen
you Tatt. No, no; they don't mean that. must say; you must never say smock.
Miss Prue. No! what then? What shall you
Tatt. I must make love to you, pretty miss; miss :
: you must not find fault with her pretty will you let me make love to you? simplicity; it becomes her strangely. Pretty miss,
Miss Prue. Yes, if you please. don't let them persuade you out of your inno Tatt. Frank, egad, at least. What a pox does cency!
Mrs Foresight mean by this civility? Is it to Mrs Fore. Oh, demn you, toad! I wish you make a fool of me? or does she leave us todon't persuade her out of her innocency! gether out of good morality, and do as she would
Tatt. Who I, madam? O Lord, how can your be done by? Egad, I'll understand it so. (Aside. ladyship have such a thought? sure you don't Miss Prue. Well, and how will you make love know me!
to me?---Come, I long to have you begin. Must Mrs Frail. Ah, devil, sly devil! He's as close, I make love, too? You must tell me how. sister, as a confessor. He thinks we don't ob Tatt. You must let me speak, miss; you must serve him.
not speak first. I must ask you questions, and Mrs Fore. A cunning cur ! how soon he could you must answer. find out a fresh harmless creature--and left us, Miss Prue. What, is it like the catechism?sister, presently.
Come, then, ask me. Tatt. Upon reputation
Tatt. D'ye think you can love me? Mrs Frail. They're all so, sister, these men; Miss Prue. Yes. they are as fond of it, as of being first in the fa Tatt. Pooh, pox, you must not say yes alshion, or of seeing a new play the first day. I ready. I shan't care a farthing for you, then, in warrant it would break Mr Tatile's heart, to think a twinkling. that any body else should be before-hand with Miss Prue. What must I say then? him!
Tatt. Why, you must say, no; or, believe not; Tatt. Oh, Lord! I swear I would not for the or, you can't tell. world
Miss Prue. Why, must I tell a lie, then? Mrs Frail. O, hang you; who'll believe you? Tatt. Yes, if you'd be well-bred. All wellYou'll be hanged before you'd confess—we know bred persons lie-Besides, you are a woman; you—she's very pretty! Lord, what pure red and you must never speak what you think : your words white ! she looks so wholesome; ne'er stir, I must contradict your thoughts; but your actions don't know, but I fancy if I were a man may contradict your words. So, when I ask you,
Miss Prue. How you love to jeer one, cousin. if you can love me, you must say, no; but you
Mrs Fore. Hark'ee, sister-by my soul, the must love me, too. If I tell you you are handgirl is spoiled already-d'ye think she'll ever en some, you must deny it, and say, I Aatter you. dure a great lubberly tarpawlin? Gad, I warrant But you must think yourself more charming than you she won't let him come near her, after Mr I speak you—and like me for the beauty which Tattle.
I say you have, as much as if I had it myself. If Mrs Frail. On my soul, I'm afraid not-eh! I ask you to kiss me, you must be angry; but filthy creature, that smells all of pitch and tar ! you must not refuse me. If I ask you for more, Devil take you, you confounded toad—why did you must be more angry, but more complying; you see her before she was married ?
and as soon as ever I make you say, you'll cry Mrs Fore. Nay, why did we let him? My hus- out, you must be sure to hold your tongue. band will hang us; he'll think we brought them Miss Prue. O Lord, I swear this is pure !-I acquainted.
like it better than our old-fashioned country way Mrs Frail. Come, faith, let us be gone; if my of speaking one's mind. And must not you lie, too? brother Foresight should find us with them, he'd Tatt. Hum !-Yes; but you must believe I think so, sure enough.
speak truth. Mrs Fore. So he would; but then the leaving Miss Prue. ( Gemini ! Well, I always had a them together is as bad; and he's such a sly de- great mind to tell lies—but they frighted me, and vil, he'll never miss an opportunity.
said it was a sin. Mrs Frail. I don't care; I won't be seen in it. Tatt. Well, my pretty creature, will you make
Mrs Fore. Well, if you should, Mr Tattle, me happy by giving me a kiss ? you'll have
world to answer for: remember, I Miss Prue. No, indeed ; I'm angry at you! wash my hands of it; I'm thoroughly innocent.
[Runs and kisses him. (Exeunt Mrs Frall and MRS FORESIGHT. Tatt. Hold, hold, that's pretty well—but you Miss Prue. What makes them go away, Mr should not have given me, but have suffered me Tattle?-What do they mean, do you
know? to have taken it. Tatt. Yes, my dear--I think I can guess--but Miss Prue. Well, we'll do't again. hang me if I know the reason of it.
Tatt. With all my heart-Now, then, my litMiss Prue. Come, must not we go, too? tle angel !
Miss Prue. Pish!
me down before you come in. Tatt. That's right. Again, my charmer! Tatt. No, I'll come in first, and push you
[Kisses again. down afterwards. Miss Prue. O fie! nay, now I can't abide you. Miss Prue. Will you ? then I'll be more angry,
Tatt. Admirable! That was as well as if you and more complying. had been born and bred in Covent-garden Tatt. Then I'll make you cry out. And won't you shew me, pretty miss, where your Miss Prue. O but you shan't, for I'll hold my bed-chamber is?
tongue. Miss Prue. No, indeed won't I; but I'll run Tatt. Oh, my dear apt scholar ! there, and hide myself from you behind the Miss Prue. Well, now I'll run, and make more curtains. Tatt. I'll follow you.
Tatt. You shall not fly so fast as I'll pursue. Miss Prue. Ah, but I will hold the door with
(Exeunt. both hands, and be angry; and you shall push
haste than you.
Ang. What, are you setting up for good na
ture? Enter Nurse.
Scand. Only for the affectation of it, as the Miss, miss, miss Prue !—Mercy on me, marry, women do for ill-nature. and amen Why, what's become of the child? Ang. Persuade your friend that it is all affec-Why, miss, miss Foresight -Sure she has tation. locked herself up in her chamber, and gone to Scand. I shall receive no benefit from the opisleep, or to prayers !—Miss, miss !—I hear her. nion: for I know no effectual difference between Come to your father, child. Open the door continued affectation and reality. Open the door, miss. I bear you cry hushtO Lord, who's there? (Peeps.]-What's here to Enter Sır Sampson, Mrs Frail, Miss Prue, do?-0 the Father! a man with her !-Why,
and Servant. miss, I say; God's my life! here's fine doings Sir Sam. Is Ben come? Odso, my son Ben towards :-O Lord, we're all undone So you come? Odd, I'm glad on't. Where is he? I long young harlotry!-(Knocks.—Ods my life, won't to see him. Now, Mrs Frail, you shall see my you open the door? I'll come in the back way. sop Ben. Body o'me, he's the hopes of my fa
[Erit. mily--I ha’nt seen him these three years--- I war
rant he's grown !Call him in; bid him make Enter Tattle and Miss PRUE.
haste--[Exit Serdant.}--I'm ready to cry for joy. Miss Prue. O Lord, she's coming--and she'll Mrs Frail. Now, miss, you
shall see your hustell my father. What shall I do now?
band. Tatt. Pox take her ! if she had staid two mi Miss Prue, Pish, he shall be none of my husnutes longer, I should have wished for her com- band.
[Aside to Frail. ing.
Mrs Frail. Hush! Well, he shant! leave
Ang. Won't you stay and see your brother? Tatt. There's no occasion for a lie: I could Val. We are the twin stars, and cannot shine never tell a lie to 10 purpose---But, since we in one sphere; when he rises, I must set. Behave done nothing, we must say nothing, I think. sides, if I should stay, I don't know but my faI hear her---I'll leave you together, and come off ther, in good-nature, may press me to the immeas you can.
diate signing the deed of conveyance of my es[Thrusts her in, and shuts the door. tate; and I'll defer it as long as I can. Well,
you'll come to a resolution? Enter VALENTINE, SCANDAL, and ANGELICA.
Ang. I cannot. Resolution must come to me, Ang. You can't accuse me of inconstancy; I or I shall never have one. never told you that I loved you.
Scand. Come, Valentine, I'll go with you; I Val. But I can accuse you of uncertainty, for have something in my head to communicate to not telling me whether
[Ereunt SCANDAL and VALENTINE. I never had concern enough to ask myself the Sir Samp. What! is my son Valentine gone? question.
What! is he sneaked off, and would not see his Scand. Nor good-nature enough to answer brother? There's an unnatural wholp! there's an him that did ask you : I'll say that for you, ma- ill-natured dog! What! were you here, too, madam.
dam, and could not keep him? could neither
love, nor duty, nor natural affection, oblige him? | have a many questions to ask you; well, you
Sir Sam. No, I intend you shall marry, Ben;
there's one for t’other, and that be all. Pray, Ang. I am pretty even with him, sir Sampson; don't let me be your hindrance; e’en marry, a for, if ever I could have liked any thing in him, God's name, and the wind sit that way. As for it should have been his estate, too. But, since my part, mayhap I have no mind to marry. that's gone, the bait's off, and the naked hook ap Mrs Frail. That would be pity, such a handpears.
some young gentleman ! Sir Sam. Odsbud, well spoken; and you are a Ben. Handsome! he, he, he! Nay, forsooth, wiser woman than I thought you were : for most an you be for joking, I'll joke with you; for i young women now-a-days are to be tempted with love my jest, an the ship were sinking, as we said a naked hook.
But I'll tell you why I don't much stand Ang. If I marry, sir Sampson, I am for a good towards matrimony. I love to roam from port estate with any man, and for any man with a to port, and from land to land : I could never agood estate: therefore, if I were obliged to make a bide to be port-bound, as we call it. Now a man choice, I declare I'd rather have you than your that is married has, as it were, d'ye see, his feet in son.
the bilboes, and mayhap may'nt get them out aSir Sam. Faith and troth, you are a wise wo- gain when he would. man; and I'm glad to hear you say so. I was
Sir Sam. Ben is a wag ! afraid you were in love with a reprobate. Odd, Ben. A man that is married, d'ye see, is no I was sorry for you with all my heart. Hang more like another man, than a galley-slave is like him, mongrel ! cast him off. You shall see the one of us free sailors : he is chained to an oar rogue shew himself, and make love to some des all his life; and mayhap forced to tug a leaky ponding Cadua of fourscore for sustenance.vessel into the bargain. Odd, I love to see a young spendthrift forced to: Sir Sum. A very wag! Ben is a very wag! oncling to an old woman for support, like ivy roundly a little rough; he wants a little polishing. a dead oak-faith, I do. I love to see them hug Mrs Frail. Not at all; I like his humour and cotton together, like down upon a thistle. mightily: it is plain and honest; I should like
such a humour in a husband extremely. Enter Ben and Servant.
Ben. Say'n you so, forsooth? Marry, and I Ben. Where's father?
should like such a handsome gentlewoman for a Ser. There, sir; his back's toward you. [Exit. bed-fellow hugely. How say you, mistress ?
Sir Sam. My son Ben! Bless thee, dear boy! would you like a going to sea ? Mess, you're a Body o' me, thou art heartily welcome.
a tight vessel, and well-rigged, an you were but Ben. Thank you, father; and I'm glad to see you. as well manned.
Sir Sum. Odsbud, and I'm glad to see thee. Mrs Prail. I should not doubt that, if you Kiss me, boy; kiss me again and again, dear Ben. were master of me.
(Kisses him. Ben. But I'll tell you one thing, an you come Ben. So, so, enough, father. Mess, l'd rather to sea in a high wind, or that lady, you may’nt kiss these gentlewomen.
carry so much sail o'your head-Top and top Sir Sam. And so thou shalt. Mrs Angelica, gallant, by the mess! my son Ben.
Mrs Frail. No? why so? Ben. Forsooth, if you please! [Salutes her.] Ben. Why, an you do, you may run the risk Nay, mistress, I'm not for dropping anchor here; to be overset : and then you'll carry your keels about ship, i' faith. [Kisses I'Rail.) Nay, and above water-he, he, he ! you, too, my little cock-boat! so. [Kisses Miss. Ang. I swear, Mr Benjamin is the veriest wag Tatt. Sir, you're welcome ashore.
in nature; an absolute sea wit. Ben. Thank you, thank you, friend.
Sir Sam. Nay, Ben has parts; but, as I told Sir Sum. Thou hast been many a weary league, you before, they want a little polishing. You Ben, since I saw thee.
must not take any thing ill, madam. Ben. Ev, ey, been? been far enough, and that Ben. No, I hope the gentlewoman is not angbe all. Well, father, and how do all at home? ry; I mean all in good part: for, if I give a jest, how does brother Dick, and brother Val? I'll take a jest; and so, forsooth, you may be as
Sir Sam. Dick! body o'me, Dick has been tree with me. dead these two years. "I writ you word, when Ang. I thank you, sir; I am not at all offendyou were at Leghern.
ed. But, methinks, sir Sampson, you should Ben. Mass, that's true : marry, I had forgot. Icare him alone with his mistress. Dir Tattle, Dick is dead, as you say. Well, and hon-1 we must not hinder lovers.