ACT I.

WHO's there?

Sir.

Is John come in yet?

No, Sir.

Be ſure ſend him to me as ſoon as he comes in.

I am here, Sir.

Well, John, how is my brother after his journey?

The counſellor gives his compliments to you, ſir, and thanks you for your enquiry: He is very well, and will wait on you as ſoon as he is dreſſed.

Mighty well—what is that you have in your hand, John?

It is nothing for you, Sir—it is a card for my miſtreſs, from Madam Mulroony; her man gave it me as I came in.

Pray, let me ſee it— "Mrs. Mul⯑roony makes her compliments to Mrs. Murrogh O'Dogherty, and likewiſe to Mr. Murrogh O'Dogherty, and hopes to have the favour of their company on Sunday the 17th inſtant, to play at cards, ſup, and ſpend the evening, with Lady Kinnegad, Mrs. Cardmark, Miſs Brag, Mr. Muſhroom, Cornet Baſiliſk, Sir Anthony All-Night, Major Gamble, and a very jolly party."—Here, John, take it to your miſtreſs—I have nothing to ſay to it.

—Well done Mrs. Mulroony—faith, and it well becomes your father's daughter, and your huſband's wife, to play at cards upon a Sunday. She is another of the fine ladies of this country, who, like my wife, is ſending her ſoul to the devil, and her huſband to a gaol as faſt as ſhe can. The booby has ſcarce a thouſand pounds a year in the world, yet he ſpends above two thouſand in equipage, taſte, high life, and jolly parties—beſides what his fool of a wiſe loſes to that female ſharper, my Lady Kinnegad and her jolly party; which, if I may judge by my own wife, is at leaſt a good two thouſand more; ſo that by the rule of ſub⯑traction, take four thouſand pounds a year out of one, and in a very little time nothing will remain but a goal, or an eſcape in the packet on Connaught Monday.

Counſellor Hamilton.

Counſellor, you are welcome to Dublin.

Brother, I am extremely glad to ſee you.

By my faith, and ſo am I you. Odzooks give us a kiſs, man: I give you my honour I am as glad to ſee you in Dublin at this juncture, as I ſhould to ſee a hundred head of fat bullocks upon my own land, all ready for Ballinaſloe Fair.

Sir, your humble ſervant. That is a great compliment from you, brother, I know.

It is a very true one I aſſure you.

Well, I ſee by the news-papers that my ſiſter is returned from her coronation frolie, and in health I ſuppoſe, or you would have wrote me word had it been otherwiſe.

Yes, yes, ſhe is in health indeed, and returned with a vengeance.

Pray what is the matter?

Ogho! enough is the matter, the devil an inhabitant in Swift's Hoſpital for Luna⯑tics, is in a worſe pickle than ſhe is.

You ſurpriſe me!—in what reſpect, pray?

Why, with a diſtemper that ſhe has brought over with her from England, which will, in a little time, I am afraid, infect the whole nation.

Pray, what may that be?

Sir, it is called the Iriſh Fine Lady's delirium, or the London vertigo; if you were to hear her when the ſit is upon her—oh, ſhe is as mad—the devil a thing in this poor country but what gives her the ſpleen, and the vapours—then ſuch a phrenzy of admiration for every thing in England—and, among the reſt of her madneſs, ſhe has brought over a new language with her.

What do you mean by a new language?

Why a new kind of a London Eng⯑liſh, that's no more like our Iriſh Engliſh, than a coxcomb' fine gilded chariot like a Glaſſmanogue noddy.—Why what name do you think ſhe went by when ſhe was in England?

Why, what name dare ſhe go by but Dogherty?

Dogherty!—ogho—upon my honour ſhe ſtartles when ſhe hears the name of Dogherty, and bluſhes, and is as much aſhamed as if a man had ſpoke bawdy to her.—No, no, my dear, ſhe is no longer the plain, modeſt, good-natured, domeſtic, obedient Iriſh Mrs. O'Dogherty, but the travelled, rampant, high-liſ'd, prancing Engliſh Mrs. Diggerty.

Ha, ha, ha! Mrs. Diggerty! ridiculous!

Ay, ridiculous indeed! to change her name—was there ever ſuch impertinence? But do you know, brother, among the reſt of your ſiſter's whims and madneſſes, that ſhe is turned a great politician too concerning my name.

Ha, ha, ha! a politician I—Why how in the name of wonder and common ſenſe can [9] politics and the name of Dogherty be con⯑nected?

O it's a wonder indeed!—but ſtrange as it is, they are connected—but very ridiculouſly as you may imagine.

But, prithee, by what means?

Why, you muſt know, we are to have an election ſhortly for the county that I live in, which young Lord Turnabout wants to carry for one of his own gang; and as the election in a great meaſure depends upon my intereſt, the young fox, knowing the conceit and vanity of my wife, has taken her by her favou⯑rite ſoible, and tickled it up, by telling her that if I direct my intereſt properly, it would not be difficult to procure me a title. Now, ſir, this piece of flattery has ſtirred up ſuch a rage of quality and title in her giddy head, that I cannot reſt night or day for her importunity—in ſhort, ſhe would have me deſert my friends, and ſell myſelf, my honour, and my country, as ſeveral others have done before me, merely for a title, only that ſhe may take place of a parcel of fooliſh idle women, and ſink the antient name of Dogherty in the upſtart title of Lady Thingum, my Lady Fiddle F addle, or ſome ſuch ridiculous nonſenſe.

But, ſir, pray pauſe a little upon this buſineſs—my ſiſter's vanity, I grant you, may be ridiculous—but though you deſpiſe titles and oftentation, yet, as your intereſt can certainly make the member, were I in your circumſtances, I would have a voice in the ſenate of my [10] country—go into parliament for the county yourſelf.

Ogh, I have been among them al⯑ready, and I know them all very well. What ſignifies my ſitting among hundreds of people with my ſingle opinion all alone. When I was there before I was ſtigmatized as a ſingular blockhead, an impracticable fellow, only becauſe I would not conſent to ſit like an image, and when the maſter of the puppets pulled the ſtring of my jaw on one ſide, to ſay aye, and on t'other ſide, to ſay no, and to leap over a ſtick back⯑wards and forwards, juſt as the faction of party and jobbers, and leaders, and political adventu⯑rers directed—ah, brother, brother, I have done with them all—oh, I have done with them all.

What, and after all your expence of oppoſing government right or wrong, and ſup⯑porting your patriots, will you give them all up?

Indeed I will—I was patriot mad I own, like a great many other fools in this diſ⯑tracted country—ſir, I was ſo mad that I hated the very name of a courtier as much as an illite⯑rate lay-ſwaddling methodiſt does that of a regular clergyman. But I am cured of that folly; for now I find that a courtier is juſt as honeſt a man as a patriot—my dear, they are both made of the ſame ſtuff; ah, I have at laſt found out what ſort of an animal a patriot is.

Ay!—and pray, brother, what ſort of an animal is he?

Why he is a ſort of a political weathercock, that is blown about by every wind of ſociety, which the fooliſh people are always [11] looking up at, and ſtaring, and diſtracting them⯑ſelves with the integrity of its viciſſitudes—to-day it is blown by the rough, rattling, tempeſt of party; next day by the trade-wind of fly, ſubtle, veering faction; then by the headlong hurricane of the people's hot foggy breath; huzza boys, down with the courtier, up with the patriot, 'till at laſt the ſmooth, ſoft, gentle warm breeze of intereſt blows upon it, and from that moment it ruſts to a point, and never ſtirs after—ſo there is your puff patriot for you—ogh, to the devil I pitch them all.

Ha, ha, ha! I am glad to find, brother, that you are come to that way of thinking at laſt, and I wiſh you had had the ſame notions years ago, it would have ſaved you many thou⯑ſands.

Indeed, and that it would—however experience is an excellent tutor, and as you are a young man, and juſt coming into the world, mine may be of ſome ſervice to you; take this judgment from me then, and remember that an honeſt quiet country gentleman who out of policy and humanity eſtabliſhes manufactories, or that contrives employment for the idle and the induſtrious, or that makes but a blade of corn grow where there was none before, is of more uſe to this poor country than all the cour⯑tiers, and patriots, and politicians, and prodigals that are unhanged;—ſo there let us leave them and return to my wife's buſineſs.

With all my heart, I long to have a particular account of her conduct.

O, brother, I have many grievances to tell you of, but I have one that's more whim⯑ſical than all the reſt.

Pray what is it?

Why you muſt know, brother, I am going to be a cuckold as faſt as I can.

Ha, ha, ha! that's a comical grievance indeed.

O ſtay 'till you hear the ſtory, and I'll engage you will ſay it is as comical a cuckoldom as ever was contrived.

I am glad to find, ſir, it is of ſo ſa⯑cetious a nature—pray let me hear this buſineſs?

Sit down then, brother, for I have got a little touch of my gout, let us ſit down for a moment, and I will let you into the whole affair.

Pray do, ſir, for you have really raiſed my curioſity.

You muſt know, brother, there is an Engliſh coxcomb in this town juſt arrived among us, who thinks every woman that ſees him is in love with him, and this ſpark, like another Paris of Troy, has taken it into his head to make a Helen of my wife, and a poor cuckoldy Menelaus of me.

Ha, ha, ha! Pray who is the ſpark?

Why the name of this cuckold⯑maker is Muſhroom, but from his conceit and impertinence, the women and jokers of this town have dignified him with the title of Count Muſhroom. Sir, he is the ſon of a pawn-broker in London, who having a mind to make a gentleman of his ſon, ſent him to the univerſity [13] of Oxford; where, by mixing in the follies and vices of irregular youth, he got into a moſt ſanguine friendſhip with young Lord Old-Caſtle, who you know has a large eſtate in this country, and of whoſe anceſtors mine have held long and profitable leaſes, which are now near ex⯑piring—in ſhort, ſir, this ſame Count Muſhroom and my Lord became the Pylades and Oreſtes of the age, and ſo very fond was my Lord of him, that out of ſheer friendſhip to the Count, he got his ſiſter with child.

Ha, ha, ha! that was friendly indeed.

O yes, it was what you may call modern friendſhip, taſte, and bun tun; and my Lord being a man of gratitude, in return made him his agent in this country, and ſent him over to ſettle his affairs here. And the Count and I being in treaty to renew the leaſes with my Lord, and we not being able to agree upon the terms, the coxcomb ſends my wife a warm billedoux, in which he very gallantly tells her, that ſhe ſhall decide the difference between us, and ſettle the leaſes at her own price, only upon the trifling condition that he may be permitted now and then to be the occaſional lord of her ladyſhip's matrimonial manor.

Impudent raſcal! And, pray, what ſays my ſiſter to all this?

Why ſhe does not know a word of the matter.

No! pray how came you to be ac⯑quainted with his letter then, and his deſigns upon my ſiſter?

Why there is the joke: it was by the help of Katty Farrel, my wife's woman, by whoſe aſſiſtance I carry on a correſpondence with the fellow in my wife's name, unknown to her; and by that means I ſhall not only detect and expoſe the fellow, but get an excellent bargain of the leaſes, which are to be ſigned this very day.

But, ſir, I hope you wont accept of leaſes upon thoſe terms.

O, I have no time to moralize with you on that point, but depend upon it I will convince you before I ſleep of the propriety of my taking the leaſes: Lord, what ſignifies it; it is only a good bargain got from a fooliſh lord by the ingenuity of a knaviſh agent, which is what happens every day in this country, and in every country indeed.

Sir, Mr. Muſhroom and Mr. Sharp the attorney are below.

O, they are come about the leaſes. I will wait on them, John.

Now, brother, you ſhall ſee one of the perteſt and moſt conceited impudent coxcombs that has ever yet been imported into this land, or that diſgraced humanity.

My compliments, Mrs. Katty, to your lady, I will be with her in the twinkling of a [15] ſtar, or in leſs time than a ſingle glance of her own immortal beauty can paſs to the centre of an amorous heart.

Orra now did you ever hear ſuch curſed nonſenſe.

My dear Diggerty, I kiſs your hands. I am come on purpoſe—I beg ten thouſand pardons—I underſtood you were alone—you are buſy I preſume.

Indeed, Count, we are not. This gentleman is a relation—my wife's brother—counſellor Hamilton, whom you have ſo often heard me talk of, and with whom I deſire you will be acquainted.

Sir, I feel a ſuperlative happineſs in being known to you, I have long expected and long wiſhed for it with a lover's appetite; there⯑fore without waiting for the dull avocation of experience, or the pedantic forms of ceremony, I beg you will honour me with a niche in your eſteem, and regiſter me in the ſelect catalogue of your moſt conſtant and moſt ardent friends and admirers.

O dear ſir, you are ſuperabundantly obliging—this is ſuch a favour—

No, no, no—none, none—give me your hand, Hamilton, you are my friend Dig⯑gerty's friend, and that's enough—I'll ſerve you—ſay no more—I'll ſerve you—rely upon me—I live in this town quite en famille—I go about every where, am of no party but thoſe of love, [16] pleaſure and gallantry—the women like and command me at cards, tea, ſcandal and dancing—the men, at wit, hazard, jolly parties, a late hour and a bottle—I love eaſe, hate ceremony, and am at home wherever I go—that's my ſyſtem, Hamilton—ha, is not that taſte, life, philoſophy, and ſummum bonum—ha, my dear, at home wherever I go, an't I, Diggerty.

O, indeed, to give you your due, Count, you are never baſhful in any place.

Never, never, my dear.

No faith, nor none of your family I believe.

Ha, ha, ha! never, never, my dear Diggerty—baſhfulneſs is a mark of ignorance, an uncourtly, vulgar diſeaſe—what we men of the world are never infected with—but, my dear Diggerty, I am come on purpoſe to ſettle with you; my attorney with the leaſes is below, for as I know my lord would be loth to loſe you as a tenant, and as I am convinced it would be for his intereſt you ſhould have the lands, why we will even ſign and ſeal at once upon your own terms—for really I think tenants in Ireland want encouragement—they are rack'd too high—they are indeed—it is a ſhame they ſhould be rack'd ſo high.

Faith, Count, there's many a true word poke in jeſt.

Upon my honour I am ſerious—you want encouragement in trade too.

But do you really think ſo?

I do upon my honour, and I will ſpeak to ſome people of conſequence about it on the other ſide, as ſoon as I return.

Orra but will you?

I will upon my honour.

O aye, you politicians promiſe us the devil and all while you are among us, but the moment you get o't'other ſide, you have deviliſh bad memories.

You ſeem to like Ireland, ſir.

O immenſely, ſir—it is a damn'd fine country, ſir — and excellent claret — excellent claret upon my honour! 'tis true indeed it is not ſuch claret as we drink in London—however, upon the whole, it's a pretty, neat, light, ſoft, ſilky, palateable wine, and I like it mightily—but your fiſh in this here country is horrid. There you want taſte, Hamilton—that there is an article of the ſcavoir vivre, in which you are totally ignorant—quite barbarous—

Aye! in what reſpect, ſir?

Oh, my dear Hamilton, how can you aſk ſuch a queſtion—you, you, now—who have been in London!—why you eat all your fiſh here too noo—

Too noo?

Yes, all too noo—why you eat it the very day—nay, ſometimes the very hour it comes out of the water—now that there is a total want of taſte—quite barbarous.

O yes, brother, we eat all our fiſh in this here country too noo—too noo a great deal. Now, I fancy, Count, we ſhould keep [18] our fiſh before we dreſs it, as you keep your veniſon, till it has got the hot gout.

Ha, ha, ha!—the hot gout—ha, ha, ha!—Oh, I ſhall expire—my dear Diggerty, I honour your hot gout—but your French is a little en Irlandois—en Provence—haut gout is the word.

Yes, yes—I underſtand you—Fogo.

Ha, ha, ha!—Hamilton, you are a little odd in this here country in ſome points—your friend there—is—you underſtand me—however upon the whole, take you altogether, you are a damn'd honeſt, tory rory, rantum ſcantum, dancing, ſinging, laughing, boozing, jolly, friendly, fighting, hoſpitable people, and I like you mightily.

Ha, ha, ha!

Upon my word, ſir, the people of Ireland are much obliged to you for your helter ſkelter, rantum ſcantum portrait of them.

Indeed and that we are; and ſo you like us mightily?

I do upon honour, and I believe I ſhall marry one of your women here, grow domeſtic, and ſettle among you.

Orra but will you do us that honour?

I really intend it.

Faith then you will be a great ho⯑nour to us, and you will find a great many relations here, Count; for we have a large crop of the Muſhrooms in this here country.

O, ſir, I don't doubt it, for we are a numerous family both in England and Ireland— [19] but I beg pardon, my dear Diggerty, I muſt rob you of my company for a moment to pay my devoirs to your lady; I know ſhe is im⯑patient to ſee me upon a particular affair—I will return upon the wings of diligence, then ſign, ſqueeze wax, and dedicate to wit, mirth, and convivial jollity—Hamilton, yours, yours—my dear Diggerty, give me thy hand—from this moment ſet me down as thy unalterable friend—for I intend to be well with thy wife this very evening.

Sure there never was ſo conceited and ſo impertinent a coxcomb as this puppy.

Oh here is Katty Farrel. So, Katty, do you ſee who's here, child—your friend the coun⯑ſellor.

Sir, your humble ſervant, I am glad to ſee you look ſo well. I hope all your good family are in health.

All very well, I thank you, Mrs. Katty.

Well, well, now your ceremonies are over, let us to buſineſs—is your fine miſtreſs dreſſed yet?

Yes, ſir—but ſhe has had a ſad mis⯑fortune.

What is that, Katty?

The money, ſir, that you gave her to pay the mercer's bill, from Covent-Garden, that was ſent after her, ſhe loſt laſt night to my Lady Kinnegad, and ſome more of them, at bragg—but do not take any notice that I have [20] told you of it, for ſhe intends to borrow as much from Mr. Muſhroom for a day or two as will pay the bill.

Why the woman has loſt all ſenſe of ſhame.

Katty, that muſt not be. She muſt not do ſo mean a thing upon any account, as to borrow money of Muſhroom. I will let you have the money to pay the bill, and do you ſay you borrowed it of your brother, or ſome friend or other, for her.

I will, ſir.

So, the toilet council is broke up at laſt—here ſhe comes, as fantaſtically fine, as a fine lady in a play. Ogho, what a head ſhe has.

Brother, I am veeſtly glad to ſee you.

Welcome from England, ſiſter.

I am imminſely obligated to you, brother.

I hope it anſwered your expectation, ſiſter.

Tranſcendantly.

I am glad it pleaſed you.

Raviſhingly.

Indeed!

Beyond all degrees of compiriſon.

O yes—beyond all degrees of com⯑piriſon.

Veeſt! imminſe! extatic! I never knew life before—every thing there is high, tip top, the grand monde, the bun tun—and quite teeſty.

O yes, every thing there is quite teeſty, brother.

Well, Count, do you know that you pleaſed me veeſtly laſt night; I never ſaw you in ſuch high humour—brother, I believe you do not know Mr. Muſhroom, an Engliſh gentleman; pray let me have the honour of in⯑troducing him to you.

I have had that honour already, ſiſter.

Yes, madam, Hamilton and I are old acquaintance.

O yes they are old acquaintance, they have known each other above theſe two minutes.

Pray how do you like London, ſiſter?

O the place of the world, brother.

Then Dublin I ſuppoſe—

O, dear brother, don't neem them together.

O no, you muſt not neem them together.

Upon my honour, Dublin, after ſeeing London, looks like Iriſh-Town or Ring's-End: Oh, every thing I ſet my eyes on here gives me the ennui, and the countre cure.

O yes, every thing here gives her the contre coeur; that is a diſeaſe ſhe has brought [22] over with her from London that we know nothing of here.

The ſtreets are ſo narrow, the houſes ſo dirty, and the people ſo ridiculous! then the women, Count! ha, ha, ha!—I can't help laughing when I think of them. Well, I am convinced that the women of this here country who have never travelled, have nothing of that—a—a—non-chalance, and that jenny-ſee-quee that we have in London.

O no, brother! the women have nothing of that jenny-ſee-quee, that ſhe has brought over with her from London.

But, Muſhroom—I don't know if what I am going to tell you be conceit or real; but, upon my honour, when I firſt came from England—you muſt know, brother, I came over in the picket.

O yes, brother, ſhe came over in the picket.

Yes, ſir, I came over in the picket, and we had a great orage—I don't believe, Mr. Diggerty, you know what an orage is.

Indeed you may take your oath I don't, my dear.

That is, ſir, becaſe you have not been in foreign parts—then I will tell you what an orage is—ſir, an orage is a ſtorum.

Madam, I thank you for your in⯑telligence—indeed you are very learned and very obliging.

And ſo, as I was ſaying, Count, we had a great ſtorum, and the picket—I ſhall never forget it—the picket landed us about [23] twenty miles from Dublin—and ſo, do you know, I ſay, Muſhroom, that I fancied, being juſt come from England, that the very dogs here when they barked, had the brogue, ha, ha, ha!

Ha, ha, ha!

Why then, by all that's gothic, madam, I have thought ſo a thouſand times.

You have!

I have, upon honour.

Have you ever obſerved it, brother? Mr. Diggerty, what do you think? Hav'n't the dogs of this here country the brogue?

Indeed and that they have, my dear, and the cows too, and the ſheep, and the bul⯑locks, and that as ſtrong as ever your own mother had it, who was an O'Gallagher.

Oh!

Not two of whoſe anceſtors could ever ſpeak three words of Engliſh to be under⯑ſtood.

You are a ſtrange rude man, Mr. Diggerty, to tell me of my mother's family—you know I always deſpiſed my mother's family—I hate the very name of Gallagher, and all the old Iriſh whatever.

The preſent company excepted, ſiſter—your huſband, you know—

O, I never think of him.

Ha, that's polite indeed.

O no, ſhe never thinks of me.

Well, but ſiſter, you have given us no account of the coronation, no doubt you were there.

There! O Moundew!—What a quiſtion! Why I was in every part of it—ax Muſhroom elſe.

Every where, every where—ſhe was every where, and with every body.

Well, well—then I ſuppoſe it was very fine; but after all now, was it as fine as our riding the fringes here, or the lord lieutenant going to the parliament houſe.

He, he, he! O ſhocking! don't neem them together—now that is ſo Iriſh—but, brother, what would have afforded you the higheſt entertainment, was the city feaſt. O that there was imminſe.

O yes, that there was imminſe, brother, and much finer than this here.

Then you were at the city feaſt too, ſiſter?

O dear, yes! the court never ſtirred without me.

No, indeed, the court never ſtirred without her.

And the lord mayor made a point of having me there: ſo I went with her Grace, a friend of mine, and a party of the court, as one of the houſhold—but the minute I went in every eye was upon me: Lord, it was veeſtly pleaſant to ſee how the ſhe grocers, the ſhe mercers, the ſhe dyers, the ſhe hoſiers, and the ſhe taylors did ſtare at me—I was very brilliant that's certain—rather more ſo than I was at the wedding.

O indeed I don't doubt but you were a ſight.

O pray, Mr. Diggerty, be quiet, and don't interrupt me.—Well, but, brother, as I was ſaying, it was imminſely entertaining to hear the awkward city creatures whiſper and give their vardee upon me, in their city manner—Lord, is this the handſome Iriſh woman?—the famous Iriſh toaſt? the celebrated Mrs. Dig⯑gerty—ha!—I don't think ſhe is ſo handſome, ſays one—hum!—well enough, ſays another, only I don't like her noſe—pray, doesn't ſhe ſquint? ſays a third—O yes, ſhe certainly ſquints, ſays a fourth—and ſhe is a little crooked—but ſhe is genteel—O yes, yes, the city creatures all allowed I was genteel.

O yes, yes, to be ſure they all allowed ſhe was genteel.

But, brother—O Lud! I had like to have forgot—do you know that the Count is one of the prettieſt poets in England, aye, or in Ireland either.

O heavens! madam!

He is, by my honour.

I do not doubt the gentleman's talents in the leaſt, ſiſter.

Sir, you are very polite, the lady is pleas'd to rally, that's all, for my muſe is but a ſmatterer—a ſlattern—a meer ſlip-ſhod lady.

Do not mind him, brother, what I ſay is true. He is a mighty pretty poet, and to convince you that he is, I will ſhew you ſome verſes that he indited upon me, as I was dancing at court—(Pulls them out).—Here they are, brother: Count, will you be ſo obliging as to read them to my brother?

Madam, as the ſublime bard politely ſings, the nod of beauty ſways both gods and men, and I obey. Gentlemen, the title will at once let you into the whole of what you are to expect in this little production. "An extem⯑pore on the famous Mrs. O'Diggerty's dancing at court."—Now attend—

That's all, gentlemen, that's all—only a jeu d'eſprit, as I told you; a ſlight effort of a muſe, bound in the ſilken chains of beauty and delight.

Conceited coxcomb!

And now, madam, I have a favour to beg of you.

O command it—what is it?

Why, madam, as the celebrated doctor Thomas Auguſtus Arne has honoured this haſty offspring with an alliance of his harmonious mule, and as your ladyſhip has frequently here-tofore enlivened it with your vocal glee, ſhall we beg that you will once more animate theſe [27] verbal images with a touch of your Promethean pipe.

O dear, Count, you are veeſtly panegyrical.

Aye, aye, come, ſiſter, as you have the tune oblige us with it.

I will try, brother, what I can do—but, by my honour, I have a great big cold—hem, hem!—

The worſe your voice, madam, the more your taſte will ſhine.

Nay, Count, voice or no voice I will make an effort—Sol-la-mi-fa-ſol, &c.—Upon my honour I have no more voice than a killing.

Bravo! braviſſimo! cariſſimo! novelliſ⯑ſimo! tranſcendiſſimo! and every ſuperlativiſſimo in the ſublime region of excellentiſſimo!

Come, Count, now if you pleaſe we will go down, and ſign the leaſes, and diſ⯑patch the attornies.

With all my heart.

You dine here, Count.

Do I breathe! do I exiſt! I will but juſt ſtep down, ſign the leaſes, and return on the wings of inclination—ma chere belle ſans, adieu.

Au revoir—well, he is a moſt humourous creature, and mighty witty: don't you think ſo, brother?

Very witty, indeed, and I ſuppoſe un⯑derſtands a lady's toilet—

The beſt of any man in the world, the moſt handy-creature about a woman—and ſuch teeſt—but, brother, you muſt ſup with us to-night—I have a few friends—a private peerty this evening: Lady Kinnegad, Lady Pam, old Lady Bab Frightful, Mrs. Gazette, Mr. Muſh⯑room, Pat Fitzmungrel, Major Gamble, Mrs. Cardmark, and half a ſcore more—quite a pri⯑vate peerty—you muſt be with us, brother—we are to have a little gambling and dancing, and are to be mighty jolly—I ſhall expect you—yours, yours—I muſt go finiſh my toilet.

Coun. What a ſtrange turn this woman's mind has taken—ſhe is far gone I ſee, and muſt be pinched to the quick—and ſhall this very night.

ACT II.

WELL, but, my dear, why will you be in ſuch a paſſion? Why will you not hearken to reaſon?

Mr. Diggerty, I will hear no reaſon; there can be no reaſon againſt what I ſay—you are the ſtrangeſt man—not be a lord—ſir, I inſiſt upon it—there's a neceſſity for a peerage.

O! then only ſhew me the neceſſity, and all my objections will vaniſh.

Why, ſir, I am affronted for want of a title: a parcel of upſtarts, with their crownets upon their coaches, their chairs, their ſpoons, their handkerchiefs—nay, on the very knockers of their doors—creatures that were below me but t'other day, are now truly my ſuperiors, and have the precedency, and are ſet above me at table.

Set above you at table?

Yes, ſir, ſet above me at table wherever I go.

Upon my honour then that's a great ſhame. Well, well, my dear—come, come, my dear, don't be in ſuch a fluſter.

Fluſter! why ſir, I tell you I am ready to expire when ever I go into the great world.

At what, my dear?

At what—Egh! how can you ax ſuch an ignorant quiſtion? Can there be any thing more provoking to a woman of my teeſt and ſpirit, than to hear the titles of a parcel of upſtart ugly creatures bawled in one's ears upon every occaſion—my Lady Kinnegad's coach there—my Lady Kilgobbin's chair there—my Lady Caſteknock's ſervants there—my Lady Tanderagee's chariot there. And after all theſe titles only conſider how my vile neem founds—

Mrs. Diggerty's ſervants there—Mrs. Diggerty's chair there—Mrs. Diggerty's coach there—it is ſo mean and beggarly I cannot bear it—the very thought of it makes me ready to burſt my ſtays, and almoſt throws me into my hyſterics.

Nay, my dear, don't be working yourſelf up to your ſits, your hyſterics, and your tantrums now.

My life is miſerable

. You croſs me in every thing, you are always finding fault with my routs, and my drums, and my fancy ball—t'other night you would not make up a dreſs for it, nor appear at it—O fie, fie, fie—but you are true Iriſh to the very bone of you.

Indeed I am, and to the marrow within the bone too; and what is more, I hope I ſhall never be otherwiſe.

Ridiculous weakneſs! Pray, ſir, do not you think, the Engliſh love their country as well as the Iriſh do theirs?

O indeed I believe they do, and a great deal better; though we have a great many among us that call themſelves patriots and champions, who, at the ſame time, would not care if poor old Ireland was ſqueezed as you ſqueeze an orange—provided they had but their ſhare of the juice.

Pooh, pooh! nobody minds what you ſay—you are always abuſing every body in power—well, ſir, you ſee the Engliſh are im⯑proving in teeſt every day, and have their bur⯑lettas and their operas, their Cornelys, their Almacks, their macaronies—

O my dear, I tell you again and again, that the Engliſh can never be precedent to us. They, by their genius and conſtitution, muſt always run mad about ſomething or other, either about burlettas, pantomimes, a man in a bottle, a Cock-lane ghoſt, or ſomething of equal importance. But, my dear, they can afford to run mad after ſuch nonſenſe; why they owe more money than we are worth; ſtay 'till we are as rich as they are, and then we may be allowed to run mad after abſurdities as well as they.

Mighty well, ſir, mighty well! Oh mighty well.

Heyday, what's the matter now?

But I ſee your deſign—you have a mind to break my heart—

—yes, you argue and contradict me for no other end—you do every thing to fret and vex me.

Pray explain, my dear? What is it you mean?

Why, ſir, ever ſince I returned to this odious country I have been requeſting and begging, and praying, that you would ſend to London only for the ſet of long-tailed horſes, that I told you I admired ſo—but no, I cannot prevail, though you know my Lady Kilgobbin, my Lady Balruddery, my Lady Caſtleknock, and, in ſhort, every lady of figure all run upon long tails—nobody but doctors, apothecaries, lawyers, cits, and country ſquires drive with ſhort tails now—for my part, you know I deteſt a ſhort tail.

Well, my dear, I have ſent for your brother to town, on purpoſe to ſettle all theſe points between us, and if he thinks it proper that you ſhould have long tails, you may have them as long as my Lady Kilgobbin's, my Lady Balruddery's tails, or any tails in the univerſe; and as to the title, if it can be had, why we will ſubmit that to him likewiſe.

I know it can be had—and ſo let me have no more trouble about it, for a title I will have—I muſt be a lady as well as other people—I can't bear being a plain Mrs. Diggerty any longer.

Well, well, my dear, we will try what we can do—you muſt be a lady! yes, yes, you ſhall be a lady; but by the blood of the O'Doghertys, it ſhall be a broken-back'd lady. A hump ſhall be your patent, my dear.

An obſtinate man! not accept of a title—in ſhort, there is no living without it. Who's there?

Madam!

Nobody come yet?

No, madam.

What's o'clock?

A quarter paſt ſeven, madam.

Are the candles lit, and the cards ready?

They have been ready this half hour, madam.

Shew the company into this room?

Yes, madam.

Lady Kinnegad.

Lady Kinnegad.

Lady Kinnegad.

Lady Kinnegad, madam.

My dear Diggy—what, all alone—nobody come?

Not a mortal, I have been ſretting this hour at being alone, and had nothing to divert me but a quarrel with my huſband.

The old fogrum! what, he won't open, his purſe ſtrings, I ſuppoſe—but you ſhould, make him, for he is as rich as a Jew.

Aye, but he is as cloſe-ſiſted as an old judge—Lord, he has no notion of any thing [34] in life, but reading muſty books, draining bogs, planting trees, eſtabliſhing manufactories, ſetting the common people to work, and ſaving money.

Ha, ha, ha! the monſter!

Major Gamble.

Major Gamble.

Major Gamble.

Major Gamble, madam.

Major, how is your gout to-day?

I don't know how the devil it is, not I—hobbling up your ſtairs has made me ſweat—Lady Kinnegad, I kiſs your hands; I aſk your pardon, but I muſt ſit down—I cannot ſtand—I got cold laſt night, and I feel it to-day—what, is there nobody come yet but us—nothing going forward.

Lady Bab Frightful.

Lady Bab Frightful.

Lady Bab Frightful.

Here ſhe comes, as Muſhroom ſays, Nature's contradiction—youth and age, froſt and-fire, winter and ſummer, an old body and a young mind.

Lady Bab Frightful, madam.

My dear Lady Bab!

My dear Diggy—Lady Kinnegad, I kiſs your hands—O, major—why you had like to have ruined us all laſt night—the bank was juſt broke—well, I am a perfect rake—I think I was one of the laſt this morning. I danced till five.

As the old ſaying is, Lady Bab—you can never do it younger—Live while we live, that's the rule of happineſs, you have good ſpirits, a good jointure, and nobody to controul you—you amiable creature.

Yes, I thank my ſtars, I never want ſpirits, tol, lol, lol, (ſings)—I could dance till morning.

Mrs. Jolly.

Mrs. Jolly.

Mrs. Jolly.

Mrs. Jolly, madam.

So, good folks.

Madam, your moſt obedient.

What, all idle!—no loo—no brag—no hazard—nor no dancing begun yet, [36] and Lady Bab here—but where's Muſhroom—I've ſuch a ſtory for him.—Where's the Count, Diggerty?

O he will be here, never fear, madam—O this is a card from Gazette,

"Dear Dig, I cannot be with you at ſeven;" but before you have play'd two hands, expect "me—three ſhort viſits at the Green, one in" Merrion-ſtreet, two in the Mall, in Britain-ſtreet, "three words at the caſtle with his" excellency, and then I am yours for the "night, and whilſt I am—Gazette."

Well ſaid, Gazette!—ſhe will ſpread more ſcandal in theſe ſhort viſits than truth can remove in a twelvemonth.

Mr. Fitzmungrel.

Mr. Fitzmungrel.

Mr. Fitzmungrel.

O, here's Fitzmungrel! drunk, I ſuppoſe, according to cuſtom.

And brutal, according to nature; yes, yes, he's drunk I ſee. I will be gone, for I know he will be rude.

No, no, ſtay—let us all ſhare in his abuſe, pray.

Mr, Fitzmungrel, madam.

My dear, Mrs. O'Dogherty — but I know you do not love to be called O'Dogherty, and therefore I will call you by your Engliſh name, Mrs. Diggerty—my dear Diggerty, I have not been in bed ſince I ſaw you.

Why where have you been, Fitz?

At the Curragh, my dear, with Pat Wildſire, Sir Anthony All-Night, Sir Toby Ruin, Dick Baſhaw, and half a ſcore more, and a fine chaſe we had—haux, haux, my honies—over, over, haux—but I was reſolved to be with you, my little Diggerty, becauſe I promiſed, ſo I ſmoaked it away to town—drove myſelf in my own Phaeton, and was over-turned juſt as I came to dirty Dublin.

Why you are all dirty?

Yes, I had a fine ſet down in the dirtieſt ſpot of the whole road.

I hope you are not hurt?

Not I, my dear—haux—haux—whoop—no, no, my dear Diggerty, I am like a cat—I always light upon my legs—haux—haux—whoop—ha, my dear angelic couſin, Lady Bab Frightful—by Heavens, you are a beautiful crea⯑ture, and look like the picture of good luck—well, ſhall we have another bank to night?—here, take this note into your bank

I will go take a nap in the next room in my old chair, and when you have made it five hundred, wake me, my little babby—do you hear—

I will, I will—that's a good man, go, and take a nap.

My dear couſin, thou'rt the beauty of our family.

Well, well—go ſleep—go ſleep.

The beauty of our family, Bab—another Venus—as handſome as Meduſa, and you are beſides a good-natured, old, young, middle⯑aged, giggling girl of three-ſcore—ſo I'll go take my nap—haux—haux—tally ho—whoop—

He is horrid drunk.

And what is worſe, he is a greater brute ſober than drunk.

Mrs. Gazette.

Mrs. Gazette.

Mrs. Gazette.

Here ſhe comes, that knows every body's buſineſſ but her own, ha, ha, ha!

I will ſwear ſhe is in as many houſes every day as Faulkner's Journal.

Mrs. Gazette, madam.

My dear Diggerty, you got my billet—I came to you as ſoon as poſſible—but where's Muſhroom—I do not ſee him.

He will be here, Madam.

My dear Jolly, why you look in high bloom to night—Major, how's your gout— [39] Lady Kinnegad, your moſt devoted—Oh, but Diggerty, I have a piece of news-—they ſay your huſband's to have a peerage.

How are you, my dear? are you any better?

Oh! Mrs. Katty, get me out of the houſe, or I am a dead man—he ſuſpects I have a deſign upon his wife, and carries a loaded piſtol to ſhoot me.

O heavens, ſir—I don't know what to do with you—here comes my poor miſtreſs, frighted out of her wits too.