ACT—I.

COMING—coming, what the Devil is the matter, Souffrance-Souffrance—!

Hello, vat is de matter, I can no eat my little bit of chicken i [...] quiet.

Don't you hear?

Oh! da [...] is my maſter.

I wiſh the Devil had your maſter then▪

Vy, don't you know vat is d [...] matt [...]r vid my maſter—my maſter is vimſical—he fancy himſelf all manager of tings i [...] de whole world, de ſexton, de grave-dig, de ploughman.

A ploughman.

Nui—My maſter vas go to de maſquerade, and [...] de picture of a young lady, vich he fall ſo much in love vid, dat h [...] is go to kill himſelf—my maſter is vat you call de hypo—chondria [...]

Hypo—who.

Waiter—Souffrance—Am I to wait here all day?

Here, take a de forcet—give me my little bit of chicke [...] though—

Ah, Suffrance, I am going to drown myſelf.

Ah, No ſair.

Yes—I will—I will drown myſelf—there is the fineſt pond in the garden.

Ah! ſair, for vy you drown yourſelf?

What right have you to aſk? you are my ſervant, and have no right to aſk queſtions—I will drown myſelf.

Ah, ſair, when you get into dis vay!

Yes, I know I am an aſs, a fool, a blockhead, an idiot.

Me no right to contradict you ſair, but ſair, when your papa [...]ie, you fancy yourſelf every ting, in de vorld, you vas de ſexton, de clerk, de grave dig, and de coffin—den you fancy your⯑ſelf de great bell, and your head de clappair and go ba—ba—ba.

Oh! that was folly—but now I have reaſon—cool reaſon on my ſide—s'death, to think I ſhould fall in love with a picture, pick't up at a maſquerade, which perhaps repreſents no perſon living.

Look Souffrance what eyes?

Nui.

What a mouth!

Nui.

What a countenance!

Nui.

What expreſſion!

Nui.

Oh! I will go drown myſelf.

Ah! no ſair, you no drown yourſelf.

Ha! ha! ha! I can't help laughing to think I ſhould be ſuch a fool, I that ſwore never to be in love!—Ha—ha—ha—if I laugh too much, I ſhall bring on the hyſtericks, I am very ill, my eyes are ſunk.

Dey wou'd be ſunk if you vas fling yourſelf in de pond.

I am very weak.

Oh! ſair, 'tis all fancy.

You lie, you raſcal

I've no more ſtrength than a mouſe.

I am ver glad, dere be no more ſuch mouſe in de houſe, but ſair, If I might adviſe, I wou'd throw de picture in de pond.

An excellent thought, Souffrance—and yet how can I find in my heart to do it!—here you ſhall take it, find the deepeſt part of the pond, and—why don't you take it?

Oh! 'tis diamond, I vil take care you ſhall never ſeel more.

Stay Souffrance—there is more philoſophy in getting the better of one's folly, ſo give it me again.

No ſair.

Give it me again, you raſcal—I'll go inſtantly to Sir Matthew, he has expected me theſe two days, ſo get the horſes ready directly.

Sair, dey have not eat dere little bit of corn—I have no time to eat my bit of chicken myſelf.

Why did you not give them their corn yeſterday, I can't ſtay, Sir Matthew expects me?

You vill not go dat figure.

What is the matter with my figure, I am ſure it will do very well?

Oh, ſair! you be no dreſs—you be no ſhave.

Damnation, it will take an hour to get a barber,

Sair, dare be one maitre Goſſip vait at your appoint, dis half hour.

Shew him in, I'll beſhaved directly.

Maitre Goſſip, you come ſhave my maſter.

Servant ſir.

Come, ſhave me directly, don't prate, Sir Mattehew will be glad to ſee me.

I won't ſay a word, ah ſir,—ah ſir—I ſhav'd your father's honour.

You did.

Yes ſir, I ſhav'd him every morning, when he was in heſe parts.

Well ſir—very well ſir.

Your father ſet me up here, ſir.

Damn me, I'll ſet you down, if you don't ſhave me

I don't know any body I wou'd ſooner take by the noſe and chin, altho' he's dead.

I wiſh you wou'd not bother me about my father's noſe and chin, but ſhave me.

Ah! ſir, I ſhall have more pleaſure in ſhaving you than you're aware of, I have a reſpect for every hair in your chin.

Why dont you ſhave me.

Lord Sir, you're as queer as a quarten of ſoap after a week's waſh—your father wou'd not uſe me in this manner, he lik'd to hear me talk, Dicky Goſſip, ſay's he—he always call'd me Dicky, you're my barbatic—barbatic was not that drole—

Damn me, why don't you ſhave me?

Shave you directly, Sir, did you hear of the news?

No ſir, or do I wiſh to hear of it, I wiſh you would ſhave me?

Some very particular event likely to happen, I ſhan't fail to foretell, at leaſt by the time it will happen, for you muſt know, ſir, I am a bit of a ſtar-gazer, a ſort of an almanack-maker, a kind of a Poor Robin.

I did not ſend for a poor-Robin, I ſent for a barber to have me.

Ah! ſir, I am not only a barber, I am a man of many callings,

I wiſh you was a man of few words, with all my heart,—you're razor muſt be ſharp enough.

Sharp, ſir, why its as ſmooth as ſattin, cut like the wind.

Like the eaſt wind, I ſuppoſe, cut my face in two.

That's a good joke, come I like that, but it wou'd not do in our ſhop, it wou'd be a forfeit.

Damn your ſhop—why don't you ſhave me?

Maſter Goſſip—maſter Goſſip—the grocer's is on fire in you're ſtreet, you muſt make haſte home or it will be at your houſe preſently.

I know it, ſaw it in the ſky, I was ſure of it, I told them ſo in my almanack, ſays I, there will be a fire one day this month.

I ſuppoſe ſir, you expect me to ſhave you, now I ſhall never get ſhaved.

Oh ſir! ſhave you directly,

Sair, de horſes are ready.

Then I'll go

Give me my napkin, he's gone with my napkin.

Maſter Goſſip, make haſte, or the village will be all on fire.

Can't go without my napkin, muſt have my napkin.

Damme, ſir! why don't you come and ſhave me, am I to wait all day?

Florella, ſtill in maſquerade?

Don't mention it Mr. Woodly, ſtill ſighing and dying after my couſin Charlotte, there ſhe is, go and ſpeak to her.

Such is the power ſhe has over me, that I am not able to comply with your commands.

Well Florella, ſtill in that maſquerade dreſs.

Shall I never hear the laſt of going to a poor harmleſs maſ⯑querade!

From which you confeſs, you return'd with the loſs of your heart and picture, they are ſufficient motives for your uncle's diſpleaſure.

My dear couſin, I'll tell you, my heart I did looſe to be ſure, but as for the picture—

Hey day, what next!

Why, that, I put it Mr. Vapour's way, on purpoſe that he might pick it up, and his eyes—

Oh! his eyes to be ſure!

We're ſo fix'd on it, that I had a great mind to unmaſk, and ſhew him the original, if it had not been for the dignity of the ſex, my dear conſin.

You're a giddy mad girl, but what do you intend to do with Mr. Vapour?

Not treat him as you do poor Woodly.

Would you have me run into his arms?

Which you wou'd find no hard matter, for he has held them open to you theſe two years.

Well—well—I muſt go and prepare for the reception of Mr. Vapour.

But I wiſh you would let me go and aſk my uncle's par⯑don now?

No—no!—no man's temper's more mild, when taken at a proper ſeaſon, but now his head's as crowded as a newſpaper, and in as much confuſion as your work-bag, what with the thoughts of his new varniſh, and the expectation of Mr. Vapour,—I'll ſpeak to him for you.

Well, ſpeak to him ſoon.

In the mean time, you keep out of Mr. Vapour's ſight.

Oh! dear enchanting maſk, 'tis to you I owe all the delightful [...]eaſure I now feel!

I wonder Mr. Vapour is not come! but I am glad he did [...] come until I had varniſh [...]d my pictures

let's [...]e how they look—very well— [...] well indeed, another coat of varniſh and then.

Perhaps he has fell in love, and forgot his appointive

Fell in love! no—no—he may have fell from horſe perhaps, he made a vow never to fall in love.

Mr. Vapour, Sir.

Where is he? where is the dear boy

Ah—ah—Mr. Vapour, I am glad to ſee you!

Happy to ſee you Sir Matthew, Madam, you're moſt obedient.

Ah! that bow put me in mind of your father. Do you know Charlotte, this gentleman's father was fond of pictures— why, what's the matter Mr. Vapour?

Nothing—nothing, Sir Matthew!

Why, you an't ill are you?

Never in better ſpirits in my life, do I look ill madam?

You look as if you was in love.

If I do it is a ſymptom of the liver complaint.

No, its the heart.

No, its the liver—I know I ſhall be ill of an ague, or St. Anthony's fire: or an attack on my c [...]eſt—my throat ſeels queer, I am going to have the mumps—hem—pray Sir Matthew, do I look billious?

No, no.

Hectic.

No—no—you're the picture of rude health.

Then I ſhall die of a plethora.

Come, come, leave off this nonſenſe, and come and look at my picture—I am told you have a little love for a picture.

Zounds! has he diſcover'd my weakneſs.

Here's one by Guido, and this by Salva [...]or Roſa, but here's a

picture.

The very ſame as the miniature in my pocket! (runs to Sir Matthew) Oh! my dear Sir Matthew!

What is the matter? now ſome new diſeaſe.

Oh! Sir Matthew, by all types of friendſhip that ever ſubſ [...]ed between our families—tell me who that divine picture represents.

What, do you think it pretty?

Never [...] to equal its any of your family, Sir Matthew.

[...], yes its my grandmother.

Your grandmother! is ſhe living?

No, why if ſhe had been alive now, ſhe had been, let me ſee—aye—a hundred and twenty-two.

Did ſhe ſing?

Oh yes, our family were all muſical.

Did ſhe play on the guitar?

Who?

Your grandmother.

Why, you ſeem to have taken a great liking for my grandmother, but come into the garden and ſee my improvements, and the gold and ſilver fiſh.

I'll attend you Sir Matthew—S'death, that I ſhould live to years of diſcretion, and fall in love with an old fellow's grandmother.

ACT.—II

Well, Charlotte, what do you think of Mr. Vapour.

Think, why he's a thouſand more whims than a fine lady, and in a little time would fancy you ſome ſtrange monſter or other?

So he did not fancy himſelf one, I ſhould not care, they ſay nervous men make the beſt huſbands, for you may fret them to death whenever you like, but why don't you pity poor Woody, there?

I muſt ſupport the dignity of the ſex.

The dignity of the ſex is beſt ſupported by a good huſband, and if Mr. Vapour ſhould like me—

What then?

Why then, I would marry him, to ſupport the dignity of the ſex my dear couſin.

Well—well, how goes on your ſcheme?

Oh! charmingly, you'll not betray us Woodly?

No—indeed, not I.

Ah! no—no—you may rely on him, a look is enough.

Then he deſerves kinder ones than yon have given him lately however.

I'm glad I have an advocate in you. Miſs Florella, but why my dear Charlotte, don't you believe theſe tender ſighs?

Ah! at! my old boy, give us your hand, how do you do, I am very glad to ſee you, where are you going?

I was go to de apotecare of de village.

The apothecary, very well, ſtay where you are.

I can no ſtay, me muſt go for de apotecare for my maſter.

Stay where you are, ſtay where you are, I am the apothe⯑cary, I came here on a bit of a carpentering job, for Miſs Florella ſo I thought I might as well bring the decoction for your maſter in my pocket.

Vat Apotecair, carpentair, barbere?

Dentiſt and taylor at you're ſervice, ecce ſignum.

Vat is dat?

Vat is dat—why a flannel waiſtcoat to be ſure, which every body knows is deſign'd for our brave troops abroad, who, while we're at home warm and ſnug in our ſhops, defy cold, wet, and hunger, for the good welfare of old England.

Dat is ver good.

Very good, I believe it is indeed, its a very good thing for me I know, I always carry one about me, ready cut out, that I may looſe no time in the job, I feel my heart ſo warm in the cauſe, that when I take my ſhiers in my hand, and extend my finger and thumb, juſt to take my ſimple allowance of cabbage, damn me they drop out my hand—can't take the cabbage.

Monſieur Goſſip, how you be ſo many trade?

Why, as you are a foreigner, I'll tell you all about i [...] firſt, you know ſhaving was born with me, I was born a ſhaver —bleeding follows of courſe.

Nui, I dare ſay ven you ſhave—

Now my other trades are took up by motives of conveni⯑ence, for being an apothecary, I ſometimes keep my cuſtomer longer in the village than they otherwiſe might wiſh to ſtay—you know if they die, then I am a carpenter; and ſo finiſh my own job but if they ſhoud happen to recover, then I am a taylor, and make their cloaths-can't walk abroad you known without being faſhionable

You be great many trades for one man—vy vas you no [...] de ſexton, and de grave dig too

I ſhould have been—I ſhould been, but I let my brother in-law have them.

Oh! den'tis all in de family.

To be ſure, never let any thing go out of the family—never—never.

Dat is right, dat is right.

Did you never ſee my ſign?

No.

Never ſee my ſign! its the prettieſt ſign in the village, hang over the door, under the pole, its the ſign of the four-outs.

Four-outs.

Ah four-outs, there's wrote in large letters, GOSSIP that's me, you know my name's Goſſip.

Ah! I know you Goſſip.

Goſſip, dentiſt, taylor, apothecary and Carpenter, I draw-out, I cut-out, rout-out, and lay-out.

Den you never out.

Come that's a very good joke for Frenchman, Oh! I'd like to forget, here's the decoction for maſter, mind and ſhake it, always ſhake it, for the beſt is at the bottom.

Vat is dis, vineger and brickduſt? will it no hurt my maſter.

No—no—it won't hurt him, I take care never to hurt my nervous cuſtomers, they are the beſt cuſtomers I have to my back, tho' they are always ailing, they never die, ſo I don't get much out of them in the carpentering line, but as long as I hammer ſomething out of them, I don't care how it is; do you know they wrote a ſong of me in theſe parts, they call me the wonderful barber, or Jack of all trades? I'll ſing it you.

I've ſlipt from Sir Matthew to take another look at the object of my paſſion, my paſſion!—my folly—Oh! that I was born three generations after thee,

what's here! his grandfather, this is my rival—oh if I had him here—this is the lovely picture—

it looks freſher than ever, now I am ſuch a fool I could fancy it was alive, there ſeems life in the eyes, it ſeems to breathe, Oh! my brain is certainly turn'd, I'll go back to Sir Matthew—

I could almoſt perſuade myſelf, I heard her touch the guitar.

Oh! its alive—its alive!

Sair de horſes are ready.

Souffrance, its alive—its alive!

Vat is alive?

Why, Sir Matthew's grandmother,

now I'll have one ſweet embrace,

—Sweet enchanting angelic,—Oh!—

Here Mr. Vapour,—Mr, Vapour!

Oh! Sir Matthew, did you hear it?

Hear what?

Hear her ſing.

You're a ſinging in your head, I fancy.

O yes, I am certainly crazy, well, good bye Sir Matthew, I'll go immediately.

Mr. Vapour, you're not going, there's all the neighbours coming to pay their reſpects to you.

Yes—yes Sir Matthew, I muſt go directly.

Nay—nay—ſtay—Charlotte, you told me ſomebody wanted to ſpeak to me, now I have a little time, let them come in.

O ſir, ſhe is no ſtrange.

Pray ſir, forgive.—

'Tis ſhe,—'tis ſhe!

'Tis who?

Why, your grandmother.

Ha—ha—ha, this is all owing to the family re⯑ſemblance of my niece, to my grandmother.

Pray ſir, forgive this juvenile indiſcretion.

Here am I rooted forever, unleſs you forgive whatever juvenile indiſcretion, your grandmother has been guilty of.

Riſe—riſe, Mr, Vapour, I do forgive her, I do forgive my niece.

O! this is alive, ſo you're Sir Matthews niece, are you?

Charlotte can anſwer you that.

And not his grandmother.

No—that I can anſwer myſelf.

Oh! Sir Matthew, will you beſtow you grand—your niece on me in marriage.

Aye—aye—take her, and I will give you my grand⯑mother into the bargain.—Charlotte, I ſee you like him too, ſo take her Woodly,

But what ſays my divine Florella?

Will you love, me, Mr. Vapour?

Yes, for ever, if its only for the ſake of Sir Matthew's grandmother.

Since Wedlock, &c.