man! ha, ha, ha!And what can you say for yourself, you cowardly ill-looking rascal? [To CARMINE.] Desert your friend at the first pinch-your ally-your partner!No apology, sir-I have done with you. From poverty and shame I took you, to that I restore you. Your crime be your punishment. [Turning to the audience.] Could I be as secure from the censure of this assembly, as I am safe from the resentment of Dupe, Novice, Squander, from the alluring baits of my amorous city lady, and the dangerous combination of my false friend, I should be happy. Tis from your sentence I expect my fate; [Exeunt omnes. I ACT I. SCENE I-A Room in SUBTLE's house. Enter MR. SUBTLE and CLASSIC. Mr. Sub. Well, well, that may be; but still say, that a Frenchman Class. Is a fop; it is their national disease; not one of the qualities for which you celebrate them, but owes its origin to a foible; their taste is trifling, their gaiety grimace, and their politeness pride. Mr. Sub. Hey-day! Why, what the deuce brings you to Paris then? Class. A debt to friendship; not but I think a short residence here a very necessary part in every man of fashion's education. Mr. Sub. Where's the use? Class. In giving them a true relish for their own domestic happiness; a proper veneration for their national liberties; a contempt for adulation; and an honour for the extended generous commerce of their country. Mr. Sub. Why, there, indeed, you have the preference, Mr. Classic: the traders here are a sharp-set, cozening people; foreigners are their food; civilities with a-ay, ay! a congee for a crown, and a shrug for a shilling; devilish dear, Mr. Classic, devilish dear! Class. To avoid their exactions, we are, Mr. Subtle, recommended to your protection. Mr. Sub. Ay, and wisely they did who recommended you: Buy nothing but on mine or my lady's recommendation. and your are safe. But where was your charge? Where was Mr. Buck last night? My lady made a party at cards on purpose for him, and my ward, Lucinda, is mightily taken with him; she longs to see him again. Mr. Sub. I intend calling on him this mornMrs. Sub. Don't fail; he's a slippery chap, you know. Class. I am afraid with the same set his father sent him hither to avoid; but we must endea-ing. vour to inspire him with a taste for the gallantries of this court, and his passion for the lower amusements of ours will diminish of course. Mr. Sub. All the fraternity of men-makers are for that purpose without: taylors, perruquiers, hatters, hosiers, not that Mr. Buck's English servant? Enter ROGER. is to reason. Class. I attend him. Mr. Subtle, you won't be out of the way? [Erit. Mr. Sub. I shall talk a little with the tradesmen. A smoky fellow this Classic; but if Lucinda plays her cards well we have not much to fear from that quarter: contradiction seems to be the life and soul of young Buck.-A tolerable expedient this, if it succeeds. Fleece the younker!-Psha! that's a thing of course!-but by his means to get rid of Lucinda, and securely pocket her patrimony; ay! that indeed Enter MRS. SUBTLE. Oh! wife! Have you opened the plot? Does the girl come into it greedily, hey? Mrs Sub. A little squeamish at first; but I have opened her eyes. Never fear, my dear; sooner or later, women will attend to their interest. Mr. Sub. Their interest! ay, that's true; but consider my dear, how deeply our own interest is concerned, and let that quicken your zeal. Mrs. Sub. D'ye think I'm blind? But the girl has got such whimsical notions of honour, and is withal so decent and modest-I wonder where the deuce she got it; I am sure it was not in my house. Mr. Sub. How does she like Buck's person? Mrs. Sub. Well enough. But prithee, husband, leave her to my management, and consider we have more irons in the fire than one. Here is the Marquis de Soleil to meet Madame de Farde to night-And where to put them, unless we can have Buck's apartment-Oh! by the by, has Count Cog sent you your share out of Mr. Puntwell's losings a-Thursday? Mr. Sub. There's no fear. Well, but our pretty countrywoman lays about her handsomely, ha! --Hearts by hundreds! hum! Mr. Sub. Ay! that's a noble prize, if we could but manage her; but she's so indiscreet, that she'll be blown before we have made half our market. I am this morning to give audience, on her score, to two counts and a foreign minister. Mr. Sub. Then strike whilst the iron's hot : but they'll be here before I can talk to my people; send them in, pr'ythee. [Exit MRS. SUBTLE. Enter Tradesmen. So, gentlemen. Oh! hush! we are interrupted: If they ask for your bills, you have left them at home. Enter BUCK, CLASSIC, and ROGER. I remember how it begun. Oh! Master Subtle, Buck. Ecod, I don't know how it ended, but how do'st old buck, hey? Give's thy paw! And little Lucy, how fares it with she? Hum! Mr. Sub. What has been the matter, squire? Your face seems a little in deshabille. Buck. A touch of the times, old boy! a small skirmish; after I was down, though! a set of cowardly sons of -! there's George and I will box any five for their sum. Mr. Sub. But how happened it? The French are generally civil to strangers. Buck. Oh! damned civil! to fall seven or eight upon three Seven or eight! Ecod, we had the whole house upon us at last. Mr. Sub. But what had you done? Buck. Done! why nothing at all. But, wounds! how the powder flew about, and the monsieurs scoured! Mr. Sub. But what offence had either they or you committed? Last Buck. Why, I was telling Domine. night, Dick Daylight, Bob Breadbasket, and I, were walking through one of their rues, I think they call them here, they are streets in London; but they have such devilish out-of-theway name for things, that there is no remembering them; so we see crowds of people going into a house, and comedy pasted over the door : in we trooped with the rest, paid our cash, and sat down on the stage. Presently they had a dance; and one of the young women, with long hair trailing behind her, stood with her back to a rail, just by me Ecod what does me ! for nothing in the world but a joke, as I hope for mercy, but ties her locks to the rails; so, when 'twas her turn to figure out, souse she flapped on her back; 'twas devilish comical; but they set up such an uproar-One whey-faced son of a bitch, that came to loose the woman, turn ed up his nose, and called me bete: Ecod, I lent him a lick in his lanthorn jaws, that will make him remember the spawn of old Marlborough, I warrant him. Another came up to second him; but I let drive at the mark, made the soup-maigre rumble in his bread-basket, and laid him sprawling! Then in poured a million of them; I was knocked down in a trice; and what happened after, I know no more than you. But where's Lucy? I'll go see her. Class. Oh fie! ladies are treated here with a little more ceremony: Mr. Subtle, too, has collected these people, who are to equip you for the conversation of the ladies. Buck. Wounds! all these? What, Mr. Subtle, these are monsieurs too, I suppose? Mr. Sub. No, squire, they are Englishmen: fashion has ordained, that, as you employ none but foreigners at home, you must take up with your own countrymen here. Dauph. To work for all the beaux esprits of the court. My good fortune commenced by a small alteration in a cut of the corner of the sleeve for Count Crib; but the addition of a ninth plait in the skirt of Marshal Tonerre was applauded by Madam la Duchess Rambouillet, and totally established the reputation of your humble servant. Buck. Hold your jaw, and dispatch. Mr. Sub. A word with you—I don't think it impossible to get you acquainted with Madam de Rambouillet. Buck. An't she a papist? Mr. Sub. Undoubtedly. Buck. Then I'll ha' nothing to say to her. Mr. Sub. Oh fie! who minds the religion of a pretty woman? Besides, all this country are of the same. Buck. For that reason I don't care how soon I get out of it: Come, let's get rid of you as soon And what are you, hey? as we can. Bar. Je suis peruquier, Monsieur. Buck. Then why could not you say so at first? Class. It is not in this instance alone we are particular, Mr. Subtle; I have observed many of our pretty gentlemen, who condescend to use entirely their native language here, sputter nothing but bad French in the side-boxes at home. Buck. Look you, sir; as to you, and your wife, and Miss Lucy, I like you all well enough; but the devil a good thing else have I seen since I lost sight of Dover. The men are all puppies, mincing and dancing, and chattering, and grinning: the women are a parcel of paint-present: But a peruque is a different ouvrage, ed dolls; their food's fit for hogs; and as for their language, let them learn it that like it, I'll none on't; no, nor their frippery neither So here you may all march to the place from whence you-Harkye! What, are you an Englishman? Bar. Yes, sir. Buck. Domine! look here, what a monster the monkey has made of himself?—Sirral, if your string was long enough, I'd do your business myself, you dog, to sink a bold Briton into such a sneaking, snivelling-the rascal looks as he had not had a piece of beef and pudding in his paunch these twenty years. I'll be hanged if the rogue han't been fed on frogs ever since he came over! Away with your trumpery! Class. Mr. Buck, a compliance with the customs of the country in which we live, where neither our religion nor our morals are concerned, is a duty we owe ourselves. Mr. Sub. Besides, squire, Lucinda expects that you should usher her to public places; which it would be impossible to do in that dress. Buck. Why not? Mr. Sub. You'd be mobbed. Buck. Mobbed! I should be glad to see that -No, no! they han't spirit enough to mob here; but come, since these fellows here are English, and it is the fashion, try on your fooleries. Mr. Sub. Mr. Dauphine, come, produce-Upon my word, in an elegant taste, sir-This gentleman has had the honour to Bar. As I found you where in a hurry, I have brought you, sir, something that will do for the another sort of a thing here from what it is en Angleterre ; we must consult the colour of the complexion, and the tour de visage, the form of the face; for which end it will be necessary to regard your countenance in different lights: A little to the right if you please. Buck. Why you dog, d'ye think I'll submit to be exercised by you? Bar. Oh mon Dieu! Monsieur, if you don't, it will be impossible to make your wig comme il faut. Buck. Sirrah, speak another French word, and I'll kick you down stairs. Bar. Gad's curse! Would you resemble some of your countryinen, who, at the first importation, with nine hairs of a side to a brawny pair of cheeks, look like a Saracen's head! Or else their water-gruel jaws, sunk in a thicket of curls, appear for all the world like a lark in a soupdish! Mr. Sub. Come, squire, submit; 'tis but for once. Buck. Well, but what must I do? Bar. To the right, Mr. Sub. Look at yourself a little; see what a revolution this has occasioned in your whole figure. Buck. Yes, a bloody pretty figure indeed! But 'tis a figure I am damnably ashamed of: I would not be seen by Jack Wildfire or Dick Riot for fifty pounds in this trim, for all that. Q Mr. Sub. Upon my honour, dress greatly im- | Dover packet arrived last night, loaded as folproves you! Your opinion, Mr. Classic? lows: Six tailors, ditto barbers; five milliners, Class. They do mighty well, sir; and in a little bound to Paris to study fashions; four citizens time Mr. Buck will be easy in them. come to settle here for a month, by way of seeBuck. Shall I? I am glad on't, for I am dam-ing the country; ditto, their wives; ten French nably uneasy at present, Mr. Subtle. What must I do now? Mr. Sub. Now, sir, if you'll call upon my wife, you'll find Lucinda with her, and I'll wait on you presently. Buck. Come along, Domine! But harkye, Mr. Subtle, I'll out of my trammels when I hunt with the king. Mr. Sub. Well, well. valets, with nine cooks, all from Newgate, where they had been sent for robbing their masters; nine figure dancers, exported in Septemher, ragged and lean, imported well clad, and in good case; twelve dogs, ditto bitches, with two monkeys, and a litter of puppies, from Mother Midnight's, in the Hay-market a precious cargo ! Postscript. One of the coasters is just put in, with his grace the duke of Buck. I'll on with my jemmies; none of your my lord, and an old gentleman whose name I black bags and jack-boots for me. can't learn! Mr. Sub. No, no. Buck. I'll show them the odds on't, old Silver- Gadso! Well, my dear, I must run, and try to tail! I will. Hey? secure these customers; there's no time to be lost. [Exit. Mr. Sub. Ay, ay. Buck. Hedge, stake, or stile, over we go! Buck. Did I tell you what a chase she carried hounds and horses. Mr. Sub. Have you? Buck. They shall make the tour of Europe with me and then there's Tom Atkins the huntsman, the two whippers-in, and little Joey the groom, comes with them. Damme, what a strange place they'll think this! But no matter for that; then we shall be company enough of ourselves. But you'll follow us in? [Exit. Mr. Sub. In ten minutes-an impertinent jackanapes! But I shall soon have done with him. --So, gentlemen; well, you see we have a good subject to work upon. Harkye, Dauphine, I must have more than twenty per cent out of that suit. Dauph. Upon my soul, Mr. Subtle, I can't! Mr. Sub. Why, I have always that upon new. Dauph. New, sir! why, as I hope to beMr. Sub. Come don't lie; don't damn your self, Dauphine; don't be a rogue; did not I see at Madam Fripon's, that waistcoat and sleeves apon Colonel Crambo? Dauph. As to the waistcoat and sleeves, I own; but for the body and lining-may I never Rog. I'll warrant you. Class. But, Roger, be secret. Rog. O lud! never you fear. [Exit. -But who can Class. So, Mr. Subtle, I see your aim. A pretty lodging we have hit upon; the mistress a this ward be? Possibly the neglected punk of commode, and the master a Buck's father is arrived, or my authority would some riotous man of quality. Tis lucky Mr. prove but an insufficient match for my pupil's obstinacy. This mad boy! How difficult, how disagreeable a task have I undertaken! And how general, yet how dangerous, an experiment is it to expose our youth, in the very fire and fury of their blood, to all the follies and of this fantastic court! Far difextravagance ferent was the prudent practice of our forc fathers. They scorn to truck, for base unmanly arts, Their native plainness, and their honest hearts; |