Enter PLUME.

Pray, captain, what have you done with our young gentleman soldier?

Plume. He's at my quarters, I suppose, with the rest of my men.

Bal. Does he keep company with the common soldiers?

Plume. No; he's generally with me. Bal. He lies with you, I presume. Plume. No, faith! I offered him part of my bed-but the young rogue fell in love with Rose, and has lain with her, I think, since she came to town.

Bal. So that, between you both, Rose has been finely managed.

Plume. Upon my honour, sir, she had no harm from me.

Bal. All's safe, I find-Now, captain, you must know, that the young fellow's impudence in court was well-grounded; he said I should heartily repent his being listed, and so I do from my soul.

Plume. Ay! for what reason?

Bal. Because he is no less than what he said he was; born of as good a family as any in this county, and he is heir to twelve hundred pounds a-year.

Plume. I'm very glad to hear it-for I wanted but a man of that quality to make my company a perfect representative of the whole commons of England.

Bal. Won't you discharge him?

Plume. Not under a hundred pounds sterling. Bal. You shall have it, for his father is my intimate friend.

Plume. Then you shall have him for nothing. Bal. Nay, sir, you shall have your price. Plume. Not a penny, sir; I value an obligation to you much above an hundred pounds.

Bal. Perhaps, sir, you shan't repent your generosity-Will you please to write his discharge in my pocket-book ?—[Gives his book.]— In the mean time, we'll send for the gentleman. Who waits there?

Enter a Servant.

Go to the captain's lodging, and inquire for Mr Wilful; tell him his captain wants him here immediately.

Ser. Sir, the gentleman's below at the door, inquiring for the captain.

Plume. Bid him come up. Here's the discharge, sir.

Bal. Sir, I thank you-'Tis plain he had no hand in't. [Aside.

Enter SYLVIA.

Syl. I think, captain, you might have used me better, than to leave me yonder among your

might have been so civil as to have invited me to dinner; for I have eaten with as good a man as your worship.

Plume. Sir, you must charge our want of respect upon our ignorance of your qualityBut now, you are at liberty—I have discharged you,

Syl. Discharged me!

Bal. Yes, sir; and you must once more go home to your father.

Syl. My father! then I am discovered-Oh, sir!-[Kneeling.]-I expect no pardon.

Bal. Pardon! no, no, child; your crime shall be your punishment: here, captain, I deliver her over to the conjugal power for her chastisement. Since you will be a wife, be you a husband, a very husband-When she tells you of her love, upbraid her with her folly; be modishly ungrate ful, because she has been unfashionably kind; and use her worse than you would any body else, because you cannot use her so well as she deserves.

Plume. And are you Sylvia, in good earnest ? Syl. Earnest! I have gone too far to make it a jest, sir.

Plume. And do you give her to me in good earnest?

Bal. If you please to take her, sir.

Plume. Why, then, I have saved my legs and arms, and lost my liberty; secure from wounds, I am prepared for the gout: farewell subsistence, and welcome taxes-Sir, my liberty, and the hope of being a general, are much dearer to me than your twelve hundred pounds a-yearBut to your love, madam, I resign my freedom, and to your beauty my ambition-greater in obeying at your feet, than commanding at the head of an army.

Enter WORTHY.

Wor. I am sorry to hear, Mr Balance, that your daughter is lost.

Bal. So am not I, sir, since an honest gentleman has found her.

Enter MELINDA.

Mel. Pray, Mr Balance, what's become of my cousin Sylvia?

Bal. Your cousin Sylvia is talking yonder, with your cousin Plume.

Mel. And Worthy. How!

Syl. Do you think it strange, cousin, that a woman should change? but I hope you'll excuse a change that has proceeded from constancy. I altered my outside, because I was the same within; and only laid by the woman to make sure of my man: that's my history.

Mel. Your history is a little romantic, cousin; but, since success has crowned your adventures, you will have the world on your side, and I shall be willing to go with the tide, provided

Plume. That injury, madam, was done to me, and the reparation I expect, shall be made to my friend: Make Mr Worthy happy, and I shall be satisfied.

Mel. A good example, sir, will go a great way- -When my cousin is pleased to surrender, 'tis probable I shan't hold out much longer. Enter BRAZEN.

Braz. Gentlemen, I am yours

am not yours.

Mel. I'm glad on't, sir.

Braz. So am I--You have got a pretty house, here, Mr Laconic.

Bal. 'Tis time to right all mistakes-My name, sir, is Balance.

Braz. Balance! Sir, I am your most obedient ---I know your whole generation---Had not you an uncle that was governor of the Leeward Islands some years ago?

Bal. Did you know him?

Braz. Intimately, sir-He played at billiards to a miracle-You had a brother, too, that was a captain of a fire-ship-poor Dick !—he had the most engaging way with him of making punchand then his cabin was so neat-but his poor boy Jack was the most comical bastard-Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! a pickled dog, I shall never forget him. Plume. Have you got your recruits, my dear? Braz. Not a stick, my dear!

Plume. Probably I shall furnish you.

Enter ROSE and BULLOCK.

Rose. Captain, captain, I have got loose once

Plume. I have promised, madam, to provide for this girl: now, will you be pleased to let her wait upon you, or shall I take care of her?

Syl. She shall be my charge, sir; you may find it business enough to take care of me.

Bul. Aye, and of me, captain; for wauns! if ever you lift your hands against me, I'll desert

Plume. Captain Brazen shall take care of that. My dear! instead of the twenty thousand pounds you talked of, you shall have the twenty brave recruits that I have raised, at the rate they cost me -My commission I lay down, to be taken up by some braver fellow, that has more merit, and less good fortune whilst I endeavour, by the example of this worthy gentleman, to serve my king and country at home.

With some regret I quit the active field, Where glory full reward for life does yield; But the recruiting trade, with all its train Of endless plague, fatigue, and endless pain, I gladly quit, with my fair spouse to stay, And raise recruits the matrimonial way.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE I.-An inn.

Enter BONIFACE running. Bar-bell rings. Bon. CHAMBERLAIN, maid, Cherry, daughter Cherry! All asleep, all dead?

Enter CHERRY, running.

Cher. Here, here. Why d'ye bawl so, father? D'ye think we have no ears?

Bon. You deserve to have none, you young minx-the company of the Warrington coach has stood in the hall this hour, and nobody to shew them to their chambers.

Cher. And let them wait, father; there's neither red-coat in the coach, nor footman behind it.

Bon. But they threaten to go to another inn to-night.

Cher. That they dare not, for fear the coachman should overturn them to-morrow. [Ringing.] Coming, coming: here's the London coach arri ved.

Enter several people with trunks, band-boxes, with other luggage, and cross the stage. Bon. Welcome, ladies.

Cher. Very welcome, gentlemen. Chamber lain, shew the Lion and the Rose.

[Exit CHERRY with the Company.

Enter AIMWELL, in a riding habit; ARCHER, as footman, carrying a portmanteau.

Bon. This way, this way, gentlemen. Aim. Set down the things; go to the stable, and see my horses well rubbed.

Arch. I shall, sir.

Aim. You're my landlord, I suppose?

[Exit.

Aim. I have heard your town of Litchfield much famed for ale: I think I'll taste that.

Bon. Sir, I have now in my cellar ten ton of the best ale in Staffordshire: 'tis smooth as oil, sweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy, and will be just fourteen years old the fifth day of next march, old style.

Aim. You're very exact, I find, in the age of your ale.

Bon. As punctual, sir, as I am in the age of my children: I'll shew you such ale-Here, tapster, broach number 1706, as the saying is.Sir, you shall taste my anno domini- -I have lived in Litchfield, man and boy, above eightand-fifty years, and, I believe, have not consumed eight-and-fifty ounces of meat.

Aim. At a meal, you mean, if one may guess your sense by your bulk.

Bon. Not in my life, sir: I have fed purely upon ale: I have eat my ale, drank my ale, and I always sleep upon ale.

Enter tapster, with a tankard.

Now, sir, you shall see-Filling it out.] Your worship's health: Ha! delicious, deliciousfancy it Burgundy; only fancy it, and 'tis worth ten shillings a quart.

Aim. [Drinks.] 'Tis confounded strong. Bon. Strong! It must be so, or how should we be strong that drink it?

Aim. And have you lived so long upon this ale, landlord.

Bon. Eight-and-fifty years, upon my credit, sir; but it killed my wife, poor woman! as the saying is.

Aim. How came that to pass?

Bon. I don't know how, sir; she would not let the ale take its natural course, sir; she was for qualifying it every now and then with a dram, as the saying is; and an honest gentleman, that came this way from Ireland, made her a present of a dozen bottles of usquebaugh-but the poor woman was never well after; but, however, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know.

Aim. Why, was it the usquebaugh that killed her?

ritable uses, for the good of her neighbours; she cures rheumatisms, ruptures, and broken shins, in men: green-sickness, obstructions, and fits of the mother in women; the king's evil, chin-cough, and chilblains in children: in short, she has cured more people in and about Litchfield within ten years, than the doctors have killed in twenty, and that's a bold word.

Aim. Has the lady been any other way useful in her generation?

Bon. Yes, sir; she has a daughter, by sir Charles, the finest woman in all our country, and the greatest fortune; she has a son, too, by her first husband, squire Sullen, who married a fine lady from London t'other day; if you please, sir, we'll drink his health.

Aim. What sort of a man is he?

Bon. Why, sir, the man's well enough; says little, thinks less, and does-nothing at all, faith; but he's a man of great estate, and values nobody.

Aim. A sportsman, I suppose?

Bon. Yes, sir, he's a man of pleasure: he plays at whist, and smokes his pipe eight-and-forty hours together sometimes.

Aim. A fine sportsman truly! and married, you

say?

Bon. Ay, and to a curious woman, sir. But he's a-He wants it here, sir.

[Pointing to his forehead. Aim. He has it there, you mean.

Bon. That's none of my business; he's my landlord; and so a man, you know, would notBut ecod, he's no better than-sir, my humble service to you. [Drinks.] Though I value not a farthing what he can do to me; I pay him his rent at quarter-day; I have a good running trade; I have but one daughter, and I can give her-But no matter for that.

Aim. You're very happy, Mr Boniface. Pray, what other company have you in town?

Bon. A power of fine ladies; and then we have the French officers.

Aim. O, that's right; you have a good many of those gentlemen: pray, how do you like their company?

is.

Aim. Who's that lady Bountiful, you mentioned?

Bon. Odds my life, sir, we'll drink her health. [Drinks.] My lady Bountiful is one of the best of women: her last husband, sir Charles Bountiful, left her worth a thousand pounds a-year;

1

in my house.

Enter ARCHER.

Bon. Come from London?

Arch. No.

Bon. Going to London, mayhap? Arch. No.

Bon. An odd fellow this! [Bar-bell rings.] I beg your worship's pardon; I'll wait on you in half a minute. [Exit. Now, my

Aim. The course is clear, I seedear Archer, welcome to Litchfield.

Arch. I thank thee, my dear brother in iniquity.

Aim. Iniquity! prithee leave canting; you need not change your style with your dress.

Arch. Don't mistake me, Aimwell; for 'tis still my maxim, that there's no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty. Men must not be poor; idleness is the root of all evil; the world's wide enough, let them bustle: fortune has taken the weak under her protection, but men of sense are left to their industry.

Aim. Upon which topic we proceed, and, I think, luckily hitherto. Would not any man swear now, that I am a man of quality, and you my servant, when, if our intrinsic value were known

Arch. Come, come, we are the men of intrinsic value, who can strike our fortunes out of ourselves; whose worth is independent of accidents in life, or revolutions in government: we have heads to get money, and hearts to spend it.

Aim. As to our hearts, I grant ye, they are as willing tits as any within twenty degrees; but I can have no great opinion of our heads, from the service they have done us hitherto, unless it be, that they brought us from London hither to Litchfield, made me a lord, and you my servant. Arch. That's more than you could expect already. But what money have we left?

Aim. But two hundred pounds.

Arch. And our horses, clothes, rings, &c.Why, we have very good fortunes now for moderate people: and let me tell you, that this two hundred pounds, with the experience that we are now masters of, is a better estate than the ten thousand we have spent-our friends, indeed, began to suspect that our pockets were low; but we came off with flying colours, shewed no signs of want, either in word or deed.

Aim. Aye, and our going to Brussels was a good pretence enough for our sudden disappearing; and, I warrant you, our friends imagine that we are gone a volunteering.

Arch. Why, 'faith, if this project fails, it must e'en come to that. I am for venturing one of the hundreds, if you will, upon this knight errantry; but, in case it should fail, we'll reserve the other to carry us to some counterscarp, where we may die as we lived, in a blaze.

Aim. With all my heart; and we have lived justly, Archer; we can't say that we have spent our fortunes, but that we have enjoyed them.

Arch. Right; so much pleasure for so much VOL. II.

money; we have had our penny-worths; and, had I millions, I would go to the same market again. O London, London! Well, we have had our share, and let us be thankful: past pleasures, for aught I know, are best, such as we are sure of those to come may disappoint us. you command for the day, and so I submit. At Nottingham, you know, I am to be master.

Aim. And at Lincoln I again.

But

Arch. Then, at Norwich, I mount, which, I think, shall be our last stage; for, if we fail there, we'll embark for Holland, bid adieu to Venus, and welcome Mars. Aim. A match!

Arch. And I hate pig.

Aim. Hold your prating, sirrah! Do you know who you are? [Aside. Bon. Please to bespeak something else; I have every thing in the house.

Aim. Have you any veal?

Bon. Veal! sir, we had a delicate loin of veal on Wednesday last.

Aim. Have you got any fish, or wild-fowl?

Bon. As for your fish, truly, sir, we are an inland town, and indifferently provided with fish, that's the truth on't; but, then, for wild-fowl! we have a delicate couple of rabbits.

Aim. Get me the rabbits fricasseed.` Bon. Fricasseed! Lard, sir, they'll eat much better smothered with onions.

Arch. Pshaw! Rot your onions.

Aim. Again, sirrah! Well, landlord, what you please; but, hold—I have a small charge of money, and your house is so full of strangers, that I believe it may be safer in your custody than mine; for, when this fellow of mine gets drunk, he minds nothing-Here, sirrah, reach me the strong box.

Arch. Yes sir-this will give us reputation.

[Aside. Brings the box. Aim. Here, landlord, the locks are sealed down, both for your security and mine; it holds somewhat above two hundred pounds: if you doubt it, I'll count them to you after supper; but be sure you lay it where I may have it at a minute's warning; for my affairs are a little du bious at present; perhaps I may be gone in half an hour; perhaps I may be your guest till the best part of that be spent; and, pray, order your hostler to keep my horses ready saddled: but one thing above the rest, I must beg that you will let this fellow have none of your anno de3 Q