[]The COBLER.

Why, you jade. what do you prate at?—Isn't Saint Monday, and are not the club waiting for me?

The club!—Yes, indeed, you need ſquan⯑der your ſubſtance among a parcel of raggamuffins, 'till you bring yourſelf, and your poor wife, to a jail.

Why, you impudent vixen, are Maſter Muggins, Joey Jenkins, and Gaffer Grumble, rag⯑gamuffins? Is the pimple-nos'd Exciſeman a ragga⯑muffin? or are little Hone the barber, Lawyer Peſt, and Mr. Confuſion, the ſurgeon, raggamuffins? But I don't know what's come to you, ſince you have had the credit of being a tradeſman's wife!

O yes, great credit to be ſure. Don't Mrs. Marmalade, the 'Squire's houſe-keeper, and every one of the other gentlefolks that I am ac⯑quainted with, turn up their noſes; and don't they cry, only think that ſuch a comely young woman, and one that has been ſo genteelly edicated, ſhould throw herſelf away upon ſuch a fellow as Snob, the cobler? But 'tis always your way: You don't know how ſoon Mr. Nipikin, our landlord—

Ha, ha, ha.

What's the matter with you?

Ha, ha, ha. I can't help laughing if I was to die for it: To think of the old fool going about talking of his conſequence, and ſmirking at every girl he ſees.

O, as to that, if report does not belie her, old Madam Nipikin is as fond of ſmirking after the fellows as he is after the girls: But, as I was ſaying, you don't know how ſoon he may take away the little we have.

You are always dinning that in my ears, as if it was through my miſconduct, that we are in ſuch diſtreſs.

Why will you face me down, that it is not through your miſconduct? Are not all my misfor⯑tunes owing to you? Did not you come down into the country, when I was in my firſt place, and pre⯑tended that you were a young gentleman run away for killing your friend in a duel?—And did not I, becauſe the butler was my ſweetheart, contrive to get you into the houſe?—Did not you perſuade me to get a key to the pantry? And was not I, upon your account, turn'd away—Oh, that I had never ſeen your bewitching face!

Well, well, but Alice—

And afterwards when I liv'd at the 'Squire's, at the ſame time you offered to take your oath that you lov'd nobody but me; had not you a child by the blind fidler's daughter? and was not I fool enough to give a year's wages to make the matter up.

Alice, I tell you—

But henceforward, ſooner will I believe that a room can be clean without being ſwept; that braſſes will look bright without being ſcoured; or that butter will come when the witch is in the churn; than that truth or conſtancy can be found in man!

SCENE II.

The jade has ſuffered a deviliſh deal, that's the truth on't; and one way or other my circumſtances are in a bleſſed way. If my Maſter Nipikin ſhould ſeize my goods, as he ſwore laſt night he would, 'tis all over with us—Well, 'tis to be hoped ſomething elſe will turn up—This is now about my twelfth meta⯑morphoſis; and, faith, I ſhould be very ſorry to throw it off; for I have taſted more ſatisfaction under the habit of a cobler, than I ever did in any of my other characters, though a ſoldier, a mountebank, an ex⯑ciſeman, and an itinerant preacher, were among the number.

SCENE III.

How I am us'd, and after behaving to him as I do!—He does not deſerve ſuch a true and faithful wife; for I am ſure, though I have never mentioned a word of it, that Mr. Nipikin has been trying a whole twelvemonth to make me bad, and I have always given him his own with a witneſs: And as for Dick Froth, the tapſter, if I'd go off with him, I am ſure he'd love me for ever; and every body knows that Dick, on account of his town-edi⯑cation, is the gayeſt young fellow in theſe parts: I don't mind being poor a bit, if I could but be us'd kind.—I have it: Dick's miſtreſs, Madam Nipikin, is as fond of him as the old fool, his maſter, is of me; and ſo—but here he comes.—Your ſervant, Mr. Rich⯑ard; what have you done with my huſband?

Why he is fairly ſet in with his guzzling companions; and ſo I thought I could not take a more properer time, than while you are left like a tur⯑kle here alone, to ſhew you the difference between him who deſerts you, and him who would wiſh to de⯑ſerve you—was not that very prettily ſaid of me?

Indeed, Mr. Richard, I don't underſtand being affronted ſo. I told you, you know, the laſt time you talked to me in this manner, that I'd tell my huſband.

Oh, my dear, I have been too much among the Bucks de Sprits of the age to mind huſ⯑bands; beſides, my dear, what you drink with your meals, need not hinder you from having a cordial privately in your cloſet—Prettily ſaid again.

I'll be even with you for all this impu⯑dence.—Well, Mr. Richard, you are ſo ſmart, and ſo clever; where the duce did you get all theſe win⯑ning ways?

I dont know, my dear, they came natu⯑rally to me: Take pity on me, for ſtamp my vitals, as my Lord Huntingdon ſays in the play, if I en't immenſely in love with you.

How can that be, when your miſtreſs—

What, you are jealous of her?—Don't name the old frightful Jezebel;—why I only ſay a few civil things to her now and then, that I may be able to ſport this appearance.

And have you endur'd ſo much as you ſay upon my account?

Endur'd! why, my dear, I have endur'd more than would kill ten horſes; what with your cruelty, and the drudgery of making love to my miſ⯑treſs, I have endur'd more than ever Cannibal did, when he paſs'd over the what-you-call-'ems, the froſty mountains to fight Skippio.

And what would you ſay, if I was to be kinder?

Say!—that—that—lord, I don't know what I ſhould ſay.

Well, if you'll promiſe to do as I would have you, I don't know but I may.

Raptures and Paradiſe!

You muſt favour the old woman, and get what money you can from her; I'll do the ſame by your maſter, and then when we have got a pretty good ſum together, we'll march off, and let them find us where they can.

What a devilliſh deal of wit you have—Well, I'll go about it directly—Bleſs you, I can wheedle her out of any thing—I ſay what a charming [9] ſcheme 'twill be—I'll take care and have it put in all the papers. How prettily it will ſound: ‘"Laſt week eloped from her huſband, Mrs. Alicia Snob, in company with a genteel young man, one Richard Froth, a tapſter at the Black Ram, in the village of Guzzlewell; the reaſon of her committing this raſh action is not known."’—Adieu, I'll ſoon bring you ſome of the old woman's caſh.

SCENE IV.

With this money, and what I can wheedle from the old man, will I ſettle Snob's affairs; and who knows, when he finds I have done ſo kindly by him, but he'll repent of his follies, and behave bet⯑ter to me for the future. But ſuppoſe he does not—I muſt bear it as well as I can—for though I am not very wiſe, I have ſenſe enough to know, that a woman who can conſent to be wicked to revenge herſelf upon her huſband, only takes a thorn out of her finger, to place it in her heart.

SCENE V.

Well, now is every thing going as I would have it; are the company in the one, the two, the three, and the five, ſatisfied; do they ſay they have no reaſon to complain?

Yes, yes, Sir, all ſatisfied. The com⯑pany up ſtairs, who you know are always pleaſed, if there is any thing to be pleaſed at, are as merry; lord! they are laughing ready to ſplit their ſides; thoſe below, indeed, look a little ſerious and wiſe; but to ſay the truth, they are generally ſuch a pack of—

Huſh, you young dog, huſh! you don't con⯑ſider that every thing muſt be recommended to them before it will get a good name abroad—What do they ſay who come in carriages?

Oh, they are as good-natur'd as uſual. You have nothing to do but to ſet Worceſterſhire Perry before them, and call it Champaigne.

I won't ſuffer you to ſay theſe things before me, Mr. Richard: You don't conſider, that to the gueſts, who frequent this houſe, I owe all I have in the world; and are under the ſame obligation to them all, from the club-room, where they call for twelve-penny worth of punch, to the beſt parlour, where they give five ſhillings for a bottle of Claret—But I muſt not ſtand idling here—See if your miſtreſs has ſeen after the things—Coming, coming, there!

SCENE VI.

Mr. Preſident, what you ſaid laſt, is very true; if the people of this kingdom were but a little more regular in their manners, there would not be ſo much confuſion as there is.

Come, let us knock down order, and proceed in the moſt promiſcuous manner imaginable.

Mr. Preſident, my ſervice to you—And, Maſter Muggins, as to what you was mentioning juſt now, about the little thing I have to ſell, there is not a prettier bit of horſe fleſh—

Why, Sir,

I was call'd in too late, without doubt, but it was as good a cure—

How was the patient af⯑fected, Sir?

Why, Sir, the contuſion on his head had perforated the internal membrane of the occiput, and devilicated that radical ſmall minute inviſible nerve.

Damn your inviſible nerve!—drink about.

Why, Sir, if you aſk my ſentiments, I ſhould adviſe to bring an action of trover:

Pray, Lawyer Peſt, what may that ſame trover be?

How, trot fourteen miles and a half in an hour, and but twelve hands and a half high?

And ſo, Sir, after a copious and plentiful phlebotamy, which—

The court, you ſee, having or⯑dered the things to be reſtor'd—

Why, at Nettle-down race, there were four fillies—

The heirs in tail—

And of all the compound frac⯑tures I ever ſaw—

Why, I tell you, this horſe—

His pulſe—

The judge—

And for a mane and tail—

What a cure!

He was lacerated—

No jury alive—

The beſt farrier—

I'll never go to law then—

Fine paces—

Come, come, knock down ſilence—and knock down our honeſt neighbour Snob for a ſong.

No, no, I'll tell you what we'll do; we'll ſing our laſt new catch and glee.

So we will, and then we'll go home.

SCENE VII.

Now being quite ſober, and in my perfect ſenſes, let me reflect a little about my affairs—What ſhall I do to extricate myſelf?—Suppoſe I ſtrike up to old Mother Nipikin—that's the mark! Stay—ſtay, here ſhe comes! I'll liſten and here what ſort of a humour ſhe is in.

Well, ſurely, nothing can be a more ſimpler contract, than for a woman of my prudence and virtue, to place her infections upon a rattle-pated boy! If we like a man, the lighteſt hint ſophiſticates, whereas a boy propoſes upon us.

Madam, your humble ſervant. As to what you was a ſaying of a woman of your age and pru⯑dence, fixing your affections upon a boy, I agree with you, that it is a damn'd fooliſh thing; we are all ſo⯑phiſticated, as you call it, at one time or another, by love. For inſtance now, you are as ugly, and as old as any gentlewoman need to be, yet I don't know how it is, I am ſtark mad in love with you, and can think of nothing elſe.

Is the man mad?

Why, don't I tell you I am—I am in love with you, and do you want a better proof of it?

How dare you?

Why to be ſure, one had need of a little re⯑ſolution—And yet now when you hide your face, you are not ſo diſagreeable.

Why, you villain!

Don't be in a paſſion.

To affront the wife of a man, who has requir'd ſuch a fortune!

Now don't ſpoil that ſweet face of your's; I tell you, I have been in love with you a great while, though I never ſpoke of it before; I think of you from morning till night, and dream of you from night till morning; and when I ſit in my ſtall, and reflect upon your beauty, and my unworthineſs, I leave off whiſtling and fall a crying—She comes to—

Why you ſurprize me, Mr. Snob!

Why, Lord love you, I am ſurpriſed my⯑ſelf! but it is true, you are never out of my mind; you have more charms and graces than there are ſtitches in a ſhoe! and if you don't take compaſſion on me, I'll ſnatch up one of my own awls, and make an end of myſelf!

Oh, I would not for the world have you kill yourſelf upon my account.

Take me then to your arms!

O fye!

Nay, dear beautiful angel!

How can you!

Nectar and Ambroſia!

SCENE VIII.

Have done, you wicked creature!

Oh extaſy!—rapture!—inexpreſſible!—

Ah.

Zounds! what d'ye ſquall for?

Don't you ſee my huſband?—Oh, my dear Mr. Nipikin, I am glad you are come!

What's the matter, my love?

I was but clearing away the things, and this druken fellow, who hid himſelf in a corner to rob the houſe, I ſuppoſe, ſeized upon me.

Here's a devil for you!—now I ſhall ſettle my affairs with a vengeance!

Why, how dare you to attempt to behave in this ſcandalous manner to a woman of Mrs. Nipikin's conſequence? Why, you muſt be the moſt brazen-fronted villain—

Fronted! who's affronted? I an't.

To be ſerv'd ſo, 'tis a ſhame!

Madam, if I ſaid any thing to offend your delicacy—I give umbrage!—What can any man ſay more?—I—give—umbrage.

Go, you drunken, ſenſeleſs villain! I'll puniſh you! you ſhan't be my tenant a day longer!—His wife us'd me like a vixen the laſt time I ſaw her—and to-morrow morning I'll as ſurely ſeize upon all your goods!—If the impudent jade had but given me one ſmile!

Mr. Snob, why will you ſtay from me ſo? I was afraid ſome accident had happened to you.

Why, my dear, there was a trifling one.

What's the matter?

SCENE I.

HERE it is!—Here's the inventory of the ſcoundrel's goods! Peſt and I have taken care of him.

‘"Inventory of the goods and chattels of Criſpin Snob, the cobler, of Guzzlewell. Impri⯑mis: Four joint ſtools, one of them with but two legs. Item: A large wainſcot dining-table, wanting only one leaf. Item: A piece of tapeſtry hanging made uſe of to keep out the cold where the wall was broken down, with a curious ſtory wrought on it, Juno lecturing Jupiter about his amours, the Jupiter perfect all but his thunder, which ſeems by ſome miſtake to be in the hands of Juno."’

We'll have it fram'd, huſband, and hang it under the ſtag's horns in the great hall.

‘"Item: A large book, bought at an auction out of Sir Michael Minikin's houſe; containing above three hundred and ſeventy prints of ma⯑caroni gentlemen and ladies, out of Mr. Darley's collection."’

We'll have them paſted upon a lemon ground, all the way upon our ſtair caſe.

‘Item: A black window curtain, formerly a pall belonging to Mr. Shroud, the undertaker.—Item—’

Sir, Mr. Peſt is aſking for you.

Very well, I'll come to him directly—I'll hamper him, I'll teach him to behave ill to people of conſequence.

SCENE II.

Well, Sir, now I think you have pretty well done for yourſelf.

Don't oppreſs the fallen, good wife; but who the devil could have thought that this old thief—

Why I thought it, and I told you of it, but my comfort is, that it is owing to no fault of mine; I have taken care enough to diſcharge the duty of a wife, for I am ſure there has not been one breakfaſt, dinner, or ſupper, for this twelve-month paſt, that I have not told you of a hundred and fifty faults, and all to no purpoſe.

Prithee, prithee, don't upbraid me; what's to be done?

I ſuppoſe I ſhould get no thanks if I was to tell you.

You tell me!

Ay, I tell you: I have it in my power to make all well again. But what ſignifies getting you out of one hobble, when you would directly get into another.

Ay, I wiſh it depended upon that.

It does then; and if you'll promiſe to love me, and nobody elſe; to ſtay at home and mind your buſineſs for the future, I'll tell you how.

I'll not only promiſe all thou haſt aſk'd, but perform it, which is better.

Well, get behind that ſkreen, where you ſhall witneſs for me, that I have told you nothing but truth.

SCENE III.

Ah, my ſweet fragrant flower of beauty!—here I come! here's the money!—If I could but have ſlid down through the tiles of the houſe, I ſhould have been a perfect Job in a ſhower of gold.

So, ſo.

Well, did you wheedle her nicely for me?

Who, the old woman? There are twenty guineas in that purſe, and if they were all chang'd into farthings you would not have as many pieces of money, as I ſwore oaths and told lyes to get it.

And are not you afraid to truſt it to my care?

My dear, if it was the treaſure of Prue and Mixico, I'd lay them at your feet—But I have not a moment to ſtay; I only call'd to bring you the money—Take it, my maſter had juſt given it her to pay the brewer.

Well, and when ſhall we go off?

'Twould be a pity to leave her yet, ſhe is in a devil of a generous humour—let us get all we can.

Why, indeed, I ſhould wiſh to decamp like ourſelves.

Oh! 'twill make a monſtrous eclat, never fear it. Adieu—my life—my ſoul—

SCENE IV.

Your ſervant, Maſter Froth—But, Alice, how came I not to know of this before?

Becauſe it would have made you uneaſy, and I thought I could not have a better opportunity than this; for while I expoſe him, I do you ſervice.

Come thou to my arms then; and thou to my pocket—Oh! how I long to be reveng'd upon the old woman.

There is more revenge in your power yet.

Ay!

What would you ſay if I ſhould expoſe the old fellow in the ſame manner?

I'd hold thee up as a pattern for all wives—there ſhould be nothing thou couldſt aſk but I'd grant.

I hear him coming, begone!

SCENE V.

What ſhall I do?—The wicked man to run away, and leave ſuch a good wife.

Run away!

Well ſaid, Alice.

I ſhall never be looked upon again—but it ſerves me right—Fool as I was to affront poor Mr. Nipikin!

Poor Mr. Nipikin! Oh, Hoh!

But I am always blind to my own intereſt, if I had not, I ſhould have ſeen the difference; he's ſo ſmart, and ſo tender!

I ſee ſhe'll hear reaſon now.

And then his perſon is ſo agreeable!

She would not believe me, when I told her all his.

So engaging!

Yes, yes, 'tis plain ſhe has ſeen her error.

But what ſignifies all theſe things now? He uſed to admire me to be ſure; but now, how can I expect he'll caſt away a look upon ſuch a poor for⯑lorn creature as I am?

I can't bear this!—Behold him here as much your admirer as ever!

Indeed, Sir, you don't know how cruelly I have been us'd?

Ah, I don't doubt it! the villain! what he is run away, is he?

Yes, Sir.

The ſcoundrel! and he us'd to beat you, did he?

Black and blue, Sir.

Such a ſweet creature too! Oh, the hard hearted! What, and—and call you names?

Every thing but Gentlewoman, Sir.

What people there are in the world? Well, you are quite ſenſible that you have been to blame, I ſuppoſe?

Quite, Sir.

I am glad to hear it? And if I was to be kind to you, you'd be grateful?

Indeed, Sir, I would: And ſince you en⯑courage me, I'll tell you what I have been thinking of.

Well.

That if you'd overlook all the ill uſage you have receiv'd from me, and give me a ſort of releaſe for all my huſband owes you, he'd come back again; for I have reaſon to believe he is not far off, and then every Monday night when he went to the club—

I could come and ſee you.

Yes, Sir.

Adad, thou haſt made me the happieſt man in the world! And wilt thou be kind?

I can hold no longer!

there—there it is! I make thee a preſent of it, red Morocco pocket-book, ſilver-claſps and all.

And I, as in duty bound, give it to my huſband.

Oh, the devil, he here!

SCENE the laſt.

And ſhe here! now I'm in a pretty pickle indeed!

Madam, I don't know what your buſineſs is with your huſband, but you are come in excellent time to give him a lecture for making love to my wife.

And this is the return for all the in⯑tention I have ſhewn you? but I am perfectly ma⯑nur'd to ill-treatment.

Come, hang it, we muſt not let her carry it off ſo.—Maſter Nipikin, aſk her what ſhe did with the twenty pounds you gave her to pay the brewer?

How's this!

Why, what did I do with it?

You gave it to your lover, Mr. Richard Froth, who gave it to me.

What d'ye mean?

I'll explain.

We have now nothing to do, I think, my dear, but to thank you, Sir, for releaſing us out of all our troubles; and you, Ma'am, for giving us money to ſet up afreſh.

The whole of one accuſation, to my ſhame, I confeſs.

And I own I cannot deny one particle of the other.

I need not then adviſe you to be friends, becauſe one is as much to blame as the other. As to the money, take it, Alice, do with it what you pleaſe. Henceforward I'll be guided by you; and if my neighbours aſk me, why I am ſo happy, when they hear me ſing, as I work in my ſtall, I'll tell them, 'tis becauſe I have A WIFE OF TEN THOU⯑SAND.