SCENE I.

NAY nay, but I tell you I am convinced — I know it is ſo, — and ſo Friend, don't you think to trifle with me;—I know you're in the Plot, you Scoundrel, and if you don't diſcover all, I'll

Dear Heart, Sir, you won't give a Body Time.

Zookers! an whole Month miſ⯑ſing, and no Account of him far or near, — Wounds! it's unaccountable.— Look ye Friend, — don't you pretend —

Lord, Sir, — you're ſo main paſſi⯑onate, you won't let a Body ſpeak.

Speak out then, —and don't ſtand muttering—What a lubberly Fellow you are! ha! ha!—Why don't you ſpeak out, you Blockhead?

Lord, Sir, to be ſure the Gentle⯑man is a fine young Gentleman, and a ſweet young Gentleman—but, lack-a-day, Sir, — how ſhould I know any thing of him?

Sirrah, I ſay he could not be 'Prentice to your Maſter ſo long, and you live ſo long in one Houſe with him, without knowing his Haunts and all his Ways—and then, Varlet, what brings you here to my Houſe ſo often?

My Maſter Gargle and I, Sir, are ſo uneaſy about un, that I have been run⯑ing all over the Town ſince Morning to en⯑quire for un;—and ſo in my Way, I thought I might as well call here—

A Villain, to give his Father all this Trouble—And ſo you have not heard any Thing of him Friend?

Not a Word, Sir, as I hope for Marcy; tho', as ſure as you are there, I be⯑lieve I can gueſs what's come on un. As ſure as any thing, Maſter, the Gypſies have got⯑ten hold on un, and we ſhall have un come home as thin as Rake, — like the young Girl in the City,—with living upon nothing but Cruſts and Water for ſix and twenty Days.—

The Gypſies have got hold of him, you Blockhead! — Get out of the Room —Here, you Simon—

Sir,—

Where are you going in ſuch a Hurry? — let me ſee; what muſt be done? —a ridiculous Numſkull, with his damned Caſſanders and Cloppatra's and Trumpery; with his Romances, and his Odyſſey Popes, and a Parcel of Raſcals not worth a Groat; — wearing Stone Buckles, and cocking his Hat; —I never wear Stone Buckles,—never cock my Hat— but, zookers, I'll not put myſelf in a Paſſion—Simon, do you ſtep back to your Maſ⯑ter, my Friend Gargle, and tell him I want to ſpeak with him — tho' I don't know what I ſhould ſend for him for—a ſly, ſlow, he⯑ſitating Blockhead! — he'll only plague me with his Phyſical Cant and his Nonſence— why don't you go you Booby, when I bid you?—

Yes, Sir —

This Fellow will be the Death of me at laſt— I can't Sleep in my Bed ſome⯑times for him. — An abſurd inſignificant Raſcal, —to ſtand in his own Light! — Death and Fury, that we can't get Children, without having a Love for 'em!—I have been turmoiling for the Fellow all the Days of my Life, and now the Scoundrel's run away — Suppoſe, I advertiſe the Dog, and promiſe a Reward to any one that can give an Ac⯑count of him — well, but, — why ſhould I throw away my Money after him? — why, as I don't ſay what Reward, I may give [4] what I pleaſe when they come—ay, but if the Villain ſhould deceive me, and happen to be dead, — why then he tricks me out of two Shillings — my Money's flung into the Fire — Zookers, I'll not put myſelf in a Paſſion—let him follow his Noſe—it's nothing at all to me— what care I? — What do you come back for, Friend?—

As I was going out, Sir, the Poſt came to the Door, and brought this Letter.

Let me ſee it—The Gypſies have got hold of him! ha! ha! what a pretty Fellow you are! ha! ha! why don't you ſtep where I bid you, Sirrah!—

Yes Sir.

Well, well, —I'm reſolved, and it ſhall be ſo—I'll advertiſe him To-morrow Morning, and promiſe, if he comes home, all ſhall be forgiven:—And when the Block⯑head comes, I may do as I pleaſe—ha! ha! I may do as I pleaſe!—Let me ſee:—He had on—a Silver-loop'd Hat:—I never liked thoſe vile Silver Loops:—A Silver-loop'd Hat;—and—and—Slidikins, what ſignifiies what he had on?—I'll read my Letter, and think no more about him.— Hey! what a Plague have we here?

Briſtol—a—what's all this?—

Wounds! what did he take the Fellow out for?—a Scoundrel Raſcal!—turn'd Stage-Player—I'll never ſee the Villain's Face.— Who comes there?—

I met my Maſter on the Way, Sir;— our Cares are over: — Here he is, Sir.—

Let him come in—and do you go down Stairs, you Blockhead.—

So, Friend Gargle,—Here's a fine Piece of Work—Dick's turned Vaga⯑bond!—

He muſt be put under a proper Regimen directly, Sir.—He arrived at my Houſe within theſe ten Minutes, but in ſuch a Trim!—He's now below Stairs—I judged it proper to leave him there, till I had pre⯑pared you for his Reception.—

Death and Fire! what could put it into the Villain's Head to turn Buffoon?

Nothing ſo eaſily accounted for:—Why, when he ought to be reading the Diſ⯑penſatory, there was he conſtantly poring over Plays, and Farces, and Shakeſpear.—

Ay, that damned Shakeſpear!—I hear the Fellow was nothing but a Deer-ſtealer in Warwickſhire:—Zookers! if they had hanged him out of the Way, he would not now be the Ruin of honeſt Men's Chil⯑dren — But what Right had he to read Shakeſpear? —I never read Shakeſpear!—Wounds! I caught the Raſcal, myſelf, read⯑ing that nonſenſical Play of Hamblet, where the Prince is keeping Company with Strol⯑lers and Vagabonds: A fine Example, Mr. Gargle!—

His Diſorder is of the malignant Kind, and my Daughter has taken the In⯑fection from him—bleſs my Heart!—She was as innocent as Water-gruel, till he ſpoilt [7] her: — I found her, the other Night, in the very Fact.

Zookers! you don't ſay ſo! —caught her in the Fact! —

Ay, in the very Fact of reading a Play-book in Bed.

O, is that the Fact you mean? —is that all? — tho' that's bad enough.—

But I have done for my young Madam: — I have confined her to her Room, and locked up all her Books.

Look-ye, Friend Gargle, I'll never ſee the Villain's Face:—Let him follow his Noſe and bite the Bridle.—

Lenitives, Mr. Wingate, — Leni⯑tives are propereſt at preſent:— His Habit requires gentle Alteratives:— but leave him to my Management; —about twenty Ounces of Blood, with a Cephalic Tincture, —and he may do very well.

Where is the Scoundrel?

Dear Sir, moderate your Anger, and don't uſe ſuch harſh Language.

Harſh Language! —Why do you think Man, I'd call him a Scoundrell, if I had not a Regard for him? — You don't hear me call a Stranger a Scoundrel.

Dear Sir, he may ſtill do very well, the Boy has very good Sentiments —

Sentiment! — a Fig for Senti⯑ment! let him get Money, and never miſs an Opportunity—I never miſſed an Op⯑portunity; got up at Five in the Morning, —ſtruck a Light, — made my own Fire—worked my Finger's Ends—and this Va⯑gabond [8] of a Fellow is going his own Way — with all my Heart— what care I? — let him follow his Noſe, —let him follow his Noſe—a ridiculous—

Ay, ridiculous indeed, Sir—Why for a long Time paſt, he could not converſe in the Language of common Senſe.— Aſk him but a trivial Queſtion, and he'd give ſome cramp Anſwer out of ſome of his Plays that had been running in his Head, and ſo there's no underſtanding a Word he ſays.—

Zookers! this comes of his keep⯑ing Company with Wits, and be damned to 'em for Wit's—ha! ha! — Wits! a fine Thing indeed—ha! ha! Its the moſt beg⯑garly, raſcally, —contemptible Thing on Earth.—

And then, Sir, I have found out that he went three Times a Week to a Spout⯑ing-Club.

A Spouting-Club, Friend Gargle!—What's a Spouting-Club?

A Meeting of Prentices and Clerks and giddy young Men, intoxicated with Plays; and ſo they meet in Public Houſes to act Speeches; there they all neglect Buſineſs, de⯑ſpiſe the Advice of their Friends, and think of nothing but to become Actors.—

You don't ſay ſo!—a Spouting-Club! wounds, I believe they are all mad.

Ay, mad indeed, Sir: — Madneſs is occaſioned in a very extraordinary Manner, —the Spirits flowing in particular Channels.—

'Sdeath, your'e as mad yourſelf as any of them.—

And continuing to run in the ſame Ducts.—

Ducks! Damn your Ducks! — Who's below there?

The Texture of the Brain becomes diſorder'd, and

thus, by the Preſſure on the Nerves, the Head is diſturbed, and ſo your Son's Malady is contracted.—

Who's without there?—Don't plague me ſo, Man.

But I ſhall alter the morbid State of the Juices, correct his Blood, and produce laudable Chyle.—

Zookers, Friend Gargle, don't teaze me ſo—Don't plague me with your phyſical Nonſenſe.—Who's below there?—Tell that Fellow to come up.—

Dear Sir, be a little cool—In⯑flammatories may be dangerous. — Do, pray, Sir, moderate your Paſſions.—

Prithee, be quiet, Man—I'll try what I can do — Here he comes.

Now, my good Father, what's the Matter?^*

So, Friend,—you have been upon your Travels, have you?—You have had your Frolic?—Look-ye, young Man,—I'll not put myſelf in a Paſſion:—But, Death and Fire, you Scoundrel, —what [10] Right have you to plague me in this Man⯑ner?—Do you think I muſt fall in Love with your Face, becauſe I am your Father?—

A little more than Kin, and leſs than Kind. —^*

Ha! ha! —what a pretty Figure you cut now?—ha! ha!—why don't you ſpeak, you Blockhead?—Have you nothing to ſay for yourſelf?—

Nothing to ſay for yourſelf?—what an old Prig it is?

Mind me, Friend — I have found you out—I ſee you'll never come to Good.—Turn Stage-player!—Wounds! you'll not have an Eye in your Head in a Month — ha! ha! — you'll have 'em knocked out of the Sockets with withered Apples— remember I tell you ſo.—

A Critic too!

Well done old Square-toes.—

Look-ye, young Man—take Notice of what I ſay:—I made my own Fortune, and I could do the ſame again. Wounds!—if I were placed at the Bottom of Chancery-Lane, with a Bruſh and Black⯑ball, — I'd make my own Fortune again —you read Shakeſpear!—Get Cocker's Arith⯑metic— you may buy it for a Shilling on any Stall — beſt Book that ever was wrote.—

Pretty well, that; — Ingenious, Faith! — Egad, the old Fellow has a pretty Notion of Letters.

Can you tell how much is five Eigths of three Sixteenths of a Pound? —Five Eigths of three Sixteenths of a Pound—Ay, ay, I ſee you're a Blockhead:—Look-ye young Man, — if you have a Mind to thrive in this World, ſtudy Figures and make your⯑ſelf uſeful — make yourſelf uſeful.—

^*How weary, ſtale, flat and unprofit⯑able ſeem to me all the Uſes of this World!—

Mind the Scoundrel now.—

Do Mr. Wingate, let me ſpeak to him — ſoftly, ſoftly — I'll touch him gently:—Come, come, young Man, lay aſide this ſulky Humour, and ſpeak as be⯑comes a Son.

^†O Jeptha, Judge of Iſrael, what a Treaſure hadſt thou?—

What does the Fellow ſay?

He relents, Sir.—Come, come, young Man, he'll forgive.—

^‡They fool me to the Top of my Bent.—Gad, I'll hum 'em, to get rid of 'em,—a truant Diſpoſition, good my Lord:—No, no, ſtay, that's not right—I have a better Speech. — ‘^‖ It is as you ſay—when we are ſober, and reflect but ever ſo little on our Follies, we are aſhamed and ſorry; and yet, the very next Minute, we ruſh a⯑gain into the very ſame Abſurdities.’—

Well ſaid Lad, well ſaid—mind me Friend: Commanding our own Paſſions, and artfully taking Advantage of other People's, is the ſure Road to Wealth:— Death and [12] Fire! —but I won't put myſelf in a Paſ⯑ſſion:—It's my Regard for you makes me ſpeak; and if I tell you you're a Scoundrel, its for your Good.

Without Doubt, Sir.

If you want any Thing, you ſhall be provided: — Have you any Money in your Pocket? —ha! ha! what a ridiculous Numſkull you are now? —ha! ha! —Come, here's ſome Money for you.—

— I'll give it to you an⯑other Time; and ſo you'll mind what I ſay to you and make yourſelf uſeful for the fu⯑ture.—

^*Elſe, wherefore breath I in a Chriſtian Land!

Zookers! you Blockhead, you'd better ſtick to your Buſineſs, than turn Buf⯑foon, and get Truncheons broke upon your Arm, and be tumbling upon Carpets.—

^†I ſhall in all my beſt obey you, Sir.—

Very well, Friend, —very well ſaid — you may do very well if you pleaſe and ſo I'll ſay no more to you, but make yourſelf uſeful, and ſo now go and clean yourſelf, and make ready to go Home to your Buſineſs—and mind me young Man, — let me ſee no more Play-Books, and let me never find that you wear a lac'd Waiſt⯑coat — you Scoundrel, what right have you to wear a lac'd Waiſtcoat?— I never wore a lac'd Waiſtcoat! —never wore one [13] till I was Forty — But I'll not put myſelf in a Paſſion—go and change your Dreſs, Friend.

I ſhall Sir—

^*I muſt be cruel, only to be kind, Thus bad begins, but worſe remains behind.

Cocker's Arithmetick, Sir?

Ay, Cocker's Arithmetick—ſtudy Figures, and they'll carry you through the World—

Yes, Sir,

Cocker's Arithmetick!

Let him mind me, Friend Gargle, and I'll make a Man of him.

Ay, Sir, you know the World. —the young Man will do very well—I wiſh he were out of his Time; he ſhall then have my Daughter—

Yes, but I'll touch the Caſh —he ſhan't finger it, during my Life.—I muſt keep a tight Hand over him—

— Do ye hear, Friend!—Mind what I ſay, and go home to your Buſineſs immediately— Friend Gargle, I'll make a Man of him.—

^†Who called on Achmet?— Did not Barbaroſſa require me here?

What's the Matter now?—Baroſa! — wounds!—what's Baroſſa?— does the Fellow call me Names? —what makes the Blockhead ſtand in ſuch Confuſion?

That Barbaroſſa ſhould ſuſpect my Truth!—

The Fellow's ſtark ſtaring mad—get out of the Room you Villain, get out of the Room

Come, come, young Man, every thing is eaſy, don't ſpoil all again—go and change your Dreſs, and come Home to your Buſineſs—nay, nay, be ruled by me

I'm very peremptory, Friend Gargle; if he vexes me once more, I'll have nothing to ſay to him —well, but, now I think of it—I have Cocker's Arithme⯑tick below Stairs in the Counting-Houſe—I'll ſtep and get it for him, and ſo he ſhall take it Home with him — Friend Gargle your Servant.

Mr. Wingate a good Evening to you—you'll ſend him Home to his Buſineſs —

He ſhall follow you home directly. Five Eighths of Three Sixteenths of a Pound!—multiply the Numerator by the Deno⯑minator; five Times Sixteen is ten Times Eight, ten Times Eight is Eighty, and—a—a—carry one

Lord love ye, Maſter—I'm ſo glad you're come back—come, we had as good e'en gang Home to my Maſter Gargle's—

No, no, Simon, ſtay a Moment—this is but a ſcurvy Coat I have on—and I know my Father has always ſome Jemmy Thing lock'd up in his Cloſet—I know his Ways—He takes 'em in Pawn, for he'll never part with a Shilling without Se⯑curity.

Huſh! he'll hear us—ſtay, I believe he's coming up Stairs.

No, no,—no,—he's going down, growling and grumbling — ay, —ſay ye ſo ‘Scoundrel, Raſcal— Let him bite the Bridle’—‘Six Times Twelve is Seventy-two’—all's ſafe Man, never fear him. — Do you ſtand here—I ſhall diſpatch this Buſineſs in a Crack.—

Bleſſings on him! what is he about now?—why the Door is locked, Maſter.—

Ay, but I can eaſily force the Lock—you ſhall ſee me do it as well as any Sir John Brute of 'em all — this right Leg here is the [16] beſt Lockſmith in England—ſo, ſo, —

He's at his Plays again—Odds my Heart, he's a rare Hand—he'll go through with it, I'll warrant him—Old Cojer muſt not ſmoke that I have any Concern—I muſt be main cautious—Lord bleſs his Heart, he's to teach me to act Scrub.—He begun with me long ago, and I got as far as the Jeſuit before a went out of Town:— ‘^* Scrub—Coming, Sir — Lord, Ma'am, Iv'e a whole Packet full of News — ſome ſay one Thing and ſome ſay another; but, for my Part, Maam, — I believe he's a Jeſuit’—that's main pleaſant—‘I believe he's a Jeſuit.’

^† I have done the Deed — Didſt thou not hear a Noiſe?

No, Maſter; we're all ſnug.—

This Coat will do charmingly — I have bilked the old Fellow nicely.—^‡ In a dark Corner of his Cabinet, I found this Paper; what it is the Light will ſhew.

I promiſe to pay— ha!—

I promiſe to pay to Mr. Moneytrap, or Or⯑der, on Demand— 'tis his Hand — a Note of his — a Note of his — yet more—The Sum of ſeven Pounds fourteen Shillings and Seven-pence, Value received, by me

London this 15th June, 1755.—'Tis want⯑ing what ſhould follow— his Name ſhould [17] follow—but 'tis torn off—becauſe the Note is paid.—

O Lud! Dear Sir, you'll ſpoil all—I wiſh we were well, out of the Houſe—Our beſt Way, Maſter, is to make off directly.—

I will, I will; but firſt help me on with this Coat — Simon, you ſhall be my Dreſſer—you'll be fine and happy behind the Scenes. —

O Lud! it will be main pleaſant—I have been behind the Scenes in the Country, when I liv'd with the Man that ſhew'd wild Beaſtices.—

Hark-ye, Simon; — when I am playing ſome deep Tragedy, and^* cleave the general Ear with horrid Speech, you muſt ſtand between the Scenes, and cry bitterly

Yes, Sir.

And when I'm playing Comedy, you muſt be ready to laugh your Guts out

for I ſhall be very pleaſant—Tolde⯑roll—

Never doubt me, Sir.—

Very well; now run down and open the Street-Door; I'll follow you in a Crack.

I am gone to ſerve you, Maſter—

^†To ſerve thyſelf—for look ye, Simon, when I am Manager, claim thou of me the Care o'th' Wardrobe, with all thoſe Moveables, whereof the^‡ Property-Man now ſtands poſſeſt.—

O Lud! this is charming—Huſh! I am gone.

Well, but harkye, Simon, come hi⯑ther—^* what Money have you about you Maſter Matthew?

But a Teſter, Sir,

A Teſter!—That's ſomething of the leaſt, Maſter Mathew, —let's ſee it.

You have had fifteen Sixpences now—

Never mind that—I'll pay you all at my Benefit—

I don't doubt that, Maſter—but mum.

^†Thus far we run before the Wind.—An Apothecary!—make an Apothecary of me!—^‡ what cramp my Genius over a Peſtle and Mortar, or mew me up in a Shop, with an Alligator ſtuft, and a beggarly Account of empty Boxes! — to be culling Simples, and conſtantly adding to the he Bills of Mortality. — No! no! It will be much better to be paſted up in Capitals, The Part of Romeo by a young Gentleman who never appeared on any Scage before! — My Am⯑bition fires at the Thought— But hold, [19] —mayn't I run ſome Chance of failing in my Attempt—Hiſſed,—Pelted,—laughed at, — not admitted into the Green-Room—that will never do—^* Down buſy Devil, down, down.—Try it again. —Loved by the Women, envied by the Men, applauded by the Pit, clapped by the Gallery, admired by the Boxes. ‘Dear Colonel, is not he a charming Creature.’ ‘My Lord, don't you like him of all things.’—‘Makes Love like an Angel.’—‘What an Eye he has?’—‘fine Legs!’—‘I'll certainly go to his Benefit.’—Ce⯑leſtial Sounds! — And then I'll get in with all the Painters, and have myſelf put up in every Print-Shop—in the Character of Macbeth! "This is a ſorry Sight." (ſtands an Attitude.) In the Character of Richard (Give me another Horſe, bind up my Wounds.) —this will do rarely—and then I have a Chance of getting well married—O glorious Thought!—^† By Heaven I will enjoy it, though but in Fancy — But, what's o'Clock? —it muſt be almoſt nine. I'll away at once, this is Club-night. —'Egad I'll go to 'em for a while—the Spouters are all met—little they think I'm in Town—they'll be ſurprized to ſee me —Off I go, and then for my Aſ⯑ſignation with my Maſter Gargle's Daughter—Poor Charlotte! — ſhe's lock'd up, but I ſhall find Means to ſettle Matters for her Eſcape— She's a pretty Theatrical [20] Genius—If ſhe flies to my Arms like a Hawk to its Perch, it will he ſo rare an Ad⯑venture, and ſo Dramatic an Incident;—

*The Orphan.Limbs do your Office, and ſupport me well; Bear me but to her, then fail me if you can.

SCENE I.

CURS'D be your Senate, curs'd your Conſtitution The Curſe of growing Factions, and Diviſions Still vex your Councils.^*—

Don't you think this Action a little confined?

Pſha! you Blockhead, don't you know that I'm in Chains?—

Blockhead ſay ye?—was not I the firſt that took compaſſion on you, when you lay like a ſneaking Fellow under the Counter, and ſwept your Maſters Shop in a Morning? when you read nothing but the Young Man's Pocket Companion, or the True Clerks Vade Mecum, did not I put Chronon⯑hothonthologos in your Hand?

Bravo! Bravo!—

Come, Gentlemen, let us have no Diſputes. Conſider Gentlemen, this is the Honourable Society of Spouters, and ſo to put an end to all Animoſities, read the ſeventh Rule of this Society.

‘That Buſineſs, or want of Money, ſhall not be received as an Excuſe for Non-Attendance, nor the Anger of Parents or other Relations, nor the Complaints of our Maſters be ever heard; by which means this Society will be able to boaſt its own mimic Heroes, and be a Nurſery of Young Actorlings for the Stage, in ſpight of the Mechanic Genius of our Friends.’

That is not the rule I mean;—but come,^* we'll fill a Meaſure the Table round—now good Digeſtion wait on Appetite, and Health on both.

Huzza, huzza, huzza.

Come Gentlemen, let us have no Quarrels.

Huzza, huzza.—

Come now I'll gee you a Touch of Macbeeth.—

That will be rare, come let's have it.—

What do'ſt lier at Mon?—I have had muckle Applauſe at Edinburgh, when I enacted in the Reégiceede,—and I now intend to do Macbeeth—I ſeed the D [...]gger Yeſterneet, and I thought I ſhould ha' killed every one that came in my way.—

Stand out of the way Lads, and you'll ſee me give a Touch of Othello my Dear— (takes the Cork and burns it and blacks his Face) The Devil burn the Cork—it would not do it faſt enough.

Here, here I'll lend you a help⯑ing Hand,

^*Open Locks, whoever Knocks.—

^†How now ye Secret, Black, and Midnight Hags?—what is't ye do?

Ha! the Genius come to Town— Huzza! huzza!—the Genius—

How fare the honeſt Partners of my Heart?—Jack Hopeleſs, give us your Hand— Guilderſten yours—Ha! Roſencroſs—Gentle⯑men I rejoice to ſee ye—But come, the News, the News of the Town!—has any thing been Damned?—any new Performers this Winter? —How often has Romeo and Juliet been acted? —come my Bucks inform me, I want News.—

You ſhall know all in good Time.—but prithee my Dear Boy how was it?—you play'd at Briſtol, lets hear.—

Ay, lets have it Dear Dick.—

Look ye there now—^‡ lets have it Dear Boy, and Dear Dick. —

Nay, nay, but how was you receiv'd—

Romeo was my part — I touch'd their Souls for 'em,—every pale Face from the Wells was there, and ſo on I went—but rot 'em,—never mind them —^‖ what Bloody Scene has Roſcius now to act?—

Several Things — But Genius; why did you come to us ſo late?—Why did not you come in the Beginning of the Night?

Why, I intended it: But who ſhould I meet in my Way but my Friend Catcall, a deviliſh good Critic;—and ſo he and I went together and had our Pipes, to^* cloſe the Ori⯑fice of the Stomach you know; — and what do you think I learn'd of him?

I can't ſay.

Can you tell, now, whether the Em⯑phaſis ſhould be laid upon the Epitaph ^†, or the Subſtantive?

Why, no.—

Ever, while you live, lay your Em⯑phaſis upon the Epitaph.—

Arrah, my Dear, but what is that ſame Epitaph now?

^‡Arrah, my dear Couſin Mackſhane, won't you put a Remembrance upon me?—

Ow! but is it mocking you are? — Look-ye; my Dear, if you'd be taking me off—Don't you call it taking off?— By my Shoul I'd be making you take yourſelf off.—What? If you're for being obſtropo⯑lous, I would not matter you three Skips of a Flea.—

Nay, prithee, no Offence— I hope we ſhall be Brother-players.

Ow! then we'd be very good Friends; for you know two of a Trade can never agree, my Dear.

Locke is certainly reet in his Chapter aboot innate Ideas; for this Mon is born without any at all—and the other Mon yonder, I doot, is no great Heed-piece.—

What do you intend to appear in?

Othollo, my Dear, let me alone; you'll ſee how I'll bodder 'em — Tho' by my Shoul, myſhelf does not know but I'd be frightened when every Thing is in a Hub-bub, and nothing to be heard, but ‘Throw him over’—‘over with him’—‘off, off, off the Stage’—‘Muſic’—‘won't y' ha' ſome Orange-chips’—‘won't y' ha' ſome Non⯑pareills.’ —Ow!—but may be the dear Craturs in the Boxes will be lucking at my Legs — Ow! to be ſure — the Devil burn the Luck they'll give 'em.—

I ſhall certainly laugh in the Fellow's Face. —

Ow! never mind it — let me alone, my Dear — may-be I'd ſee a little round Face from Dublin in the Pit, may-be I wou'd; but then, won't I be the firſt Gentle⯑man of my Name that turn'd Stage-Play'r?— My Couſins would rather ſee me ſtarve like a Gentleman with Honour and Reputation— Myſhelf does be aſham'd when I think of it.—

Stay till you hear me give a Speecimen of Elocution.

What, with that Impediment, Sir?

Impeediment! what Impeedi⯑ment? I do no leeſp—do I?—I do no ſqueent—I am well leem'd, am I not?—

By my Shoul, if you go to that, I am as well timber'd myſelf as any of them, [26] and ſhall make a Figure in genteel and top Comedy.—

I'll give you Speecimen of Mock⯑beeth—

Make Haſte, then, and I'll be⯑gin Othollo.—

— Is this a Dagger that I ſee be⯑fore me, &c.

Willian, be ſure yon prove my Love a Whore, &c.

—I am thy Father's Spirit, Hamlet—

Po! Prithee! you're not fat enough for a Ghoſt.—

I intend to make my firſt Appear⯑ance in it for all that, only I'm puzzled a⯑bout one Thing—I want to know, when I come on firſt, whether I ſhould make a Bow to the Audience?

Now, Gentlemen, for the true Way of Dying—

—now for a little Phrenzy—

Hey! paſt five o'Clock—'Sdeath, I ſhall miſs my Appointment with Charlotte— I have ſtaid too long, and ſhall loſe my Pro⯑ſelyte—Come, let us adjourn.—

Ay, let us ſally forth.—

With all my Heart; tho' I ſhould, have bodder'd 'em finely if they had ſtaid.

I ſhould have ſheen'd in Moc⯑beeth—but never meend it — I'll go^* [27] now to my Freend the Bookſeller, and tranſ⯑late Cornelius Tacitus, or Grotius de Jure Belli, — and ſo, Gentlemen, your Servant. —

Huzza! Huzza

^*We'll ſcower the Watch—Con⯑fuſion to Morality—I wiſh the Conſtable were married—Huzza, Huzza—

By my Shoul, myſhelf did not Care if I had a Wife, with a good Fortune, to be hindering me from going on — But no matter—I may meet with a willing Cratur ſomewhere—

Huzza, Huzza!—

SCENE a Street.

Paſt five o'Clock, cloudy Morning. Mercy on us—all mad I believe in this Houſe— They're at this Trade three Nights in the Week, I think—Paſt five o'Clock, a cloudy Morning.

Huzza,

What in the Name of Wonder are they all at?—

^†Angels and Miniſters of Grace de⯑fend us.

^*By Heavens I'll tear you Joint by Joint, and ſtrew this hungry Church-yard with your Limbs.

^†Avant, and quit my Sight—thy Bones are Marrowleſs—There's no Speculation in thoſe Eyes, that thou doſt glare withal.

Prithee, don't diſturb the Peace—

^‡Be ſure you write him down an Aſs.

^§Be alive again, and dare me to the Deſart with thy Pole, — take any Shape but that, and my firm Nerves, ſhall never tremble—

Soho! Soho!

What's the Matter there?—

Here are the Diſturbers of the Peace—I charge 'em all—

^‖Unmanner'd Slave, advance your Halbert higher than my Breaſt, or by St. Paul, I'll ſtrike thee down, and ſpurn thee, Beggar, for this Inſolence—

^**I have it; it will do;—'Egad I'll make my Eſcape now — O I am For⯑tune's Fool—

Come, bring 'em along—

^*Good Ruffians, hold awhile—

^†I am unfortunate, but not a⯑ſhamed of being ſo

Come, come, bring 'em along

SCENE, another Street.

All's quiet here; the Coaſt's clear;—now for my Adventure with Charlotte—this Ladder will do rarely for the Buſineſs—tho' it would be better, if it were a Ladder of Ropes—but hold; have not I ſeen ſomething like this on the Stage?—yes I have in ſome of the Entertainments—Ay,^‡ I remember an Apo⯑thecary, and hereabout he dwells—this is my Maſter Gargle's; — being dark the Beggars Shop is ſhut—what ho! Apothecary — but ſoft,—what light breaks thro' yonder Window —It is the Eaſt, and Juliet is the Sun, ariſe fair Sun, &c.

Who's there? my Romeo?

The ſame my Love, if it not thee Diſpleaſe.—

Huſh! not ſo loud, you'll waken my Father.—

Alas! there's more peril in thy Eye^§.

Nay, but prithee now—I tell you you'll ſpoil all—what made you ſtay ſo long?

^*Chide not my Fair, but let the God of Love laugh in thy Eyes, and Revel in thy Heart.—

As I am a living Soul, you'll ruin every thing; be but quiet, and I'll come down to you—

No, no, not ſo faſt—Charlotte—let us act the Garden Scene firſt—

A Fiddleſtick for the Garden Scene—

Nay, then I'll act Ranger—up I go, Neck or nothing.

Dear Heart, you're enough to frighten a body out of one's Wits—Don't come up—I tell you there's no occaſion for the Ladder—I've ſettled every thing with Simon, and he's to let me thro' the Shop, when he opens it.

Well, but I tell you I would not give a Farthing for it without the Ladder, and ſo, up I go.—

Sir, Sir, Madam, Madam—

Prithee be quiet Simon—I am aſcend⯑ing the high Top Gallant of my Joy—

An't pleaſe you Maſter, my young Miſtreſs may come thro' the Shop—I'am go⯑ing to ſweep it out, and ſhe may Eſcape that way faſt enow—

That will do purely—and ſo do you ſtay where you are, and prepare to re⯑ceive me—

No, no, but that won't take—you ſhan't hinder me from going thro' my Part

^* a Woman by all that's lucky — neither old nor crooked — in I go —

and for Fear of the Purſuit of the Family, I'll make ſure of the Ladder.

Hiſt! hiſt! Maſter — leave that there to ſave me from being ſuſpected —

With all my Heart Simon —

Lord love him, how comical he is! — it will be fine for me, when we're playing the Fool together, to call him Bro⯑ther Martin. "^† Brother Martin."

O Lud! I'm frighted out of my Wits, where is he? —

He's a coming, Ma'am —

"Brother Martin."

^‡Cuckold him, Ma'am, by all means, — I'm your Man.

Well now, I proteſt and vow, I wonder how you can ſerve a Body ſo — feel with what a Pit-a-pat Action my Heart beats —

^*'Tis an Alarm to Love—quick let me ſnatch thee to thy Romeo's Arms, &c.

Paſt Six o'Clock, and a cloudy Morning —

Dear Heart, don't let us ſtand fooling here — as I live and breathe we ſhall both be taken — do for Heaven's Sake let us make our Eſcape.

Paſt; Six o'Clock, a cloudy Morn⯑ing —

It comes nearer and nearer; let us make off —

Give us your Hand then — my pretty little Adventurer I attend you.^† Yes, my dear Charlotte, we will go together, Together to the Theatre we'll go, There to their raviſh'd Eyes our Skill we'll I ſhew, And point new Beauties—to the Pit below.

Heaven's bleſs the Couple of 'em; but mum!

That's he yonder, as ſure as you're alive—Ay, it is—and he has been about ſome Miſchief here.

No, no, that an't he—that one wears a laced Coat—tho' I can't ſay—as ſure as a Gun, it is he—

Ay, I ſmoked him at once—Do you run that Way and ſtop at the Bottom of [33] Catherine-Street; I'll go up Drury-Lane, and between us both, it will be odds if we miſs him.

Paſt Six a Clock and a cloudy Morning.—Hey-day! what's here, a Lad⯑der, at Maſter Gargle's Window?—I muſt alarm the Family—Ho! Maſter Gargle—

What's the Matter?—How comes this Window to be open?—ha!—a Ladder!—Who's below there?

I hope you an't robbed, Maſter Gargle?—As I was going my Rounds, I found your Window open.

I fear this is ſome of that young Dog's Tricks—Take away the Ladder; I muſt enquire into all this.—

^*Thieves! Murder! Thieves! Popery! —

What's the Matter with the Fellow?

Spare all I have, and take my Life —

Any Miſchief in the Houſe?

They broke in with Fire and Sword — they'll be here this Minute — Five and forty — this will do Charmingly — "my young Maſter taught me this."

What are there Thieves in the Houſe! —

With Sword and Piſtol, Sir, — Five and forty

Nay, then it's Time for me to go, — for mayhap I may come to ha' the worſt on't —

Dear Heart! dear Heart — ſhe's gone, ſhe's gone—my Daughter! my Daughter! — what's the Fellow in ſuch a Fright for?

Down on your Knees — down on your Marrowbones — (this will make him think, I know nothing of the Matter—Bleſs his Heart for teaching me,—Down on your Marrow-bones.—

Get up, you Fool, get up—Dear Heart, I'm all in a Fermentation.

‘Wanted, on good Security, Five hundred Pounds, for which lawful Intereſt will be given, and a good Praemium allowed: Whoever this may ſuit, Enquire for S. T. at the Crown and Rolls in Chancery-Lane.’— This may be worth looking after.—I'll have a good Praemium—If the Fellow's a Fool, I'll fix my Eye on him—Other People's Follies are an Eſtate to the Man that knows how to make himſelf uſeful — So, Friend Gargle, —your up early, I ſee—nothing like riſing [35] eatly—nothing to be got by lying in Bed, like a lubberly Fellow.—What's the Matter with you! — ha! ha! you look like a — ha! ha! —

O — no Wonder — My Daughter, my Daughter!

Your Daughter! —what ſignifies a fooliſh Girl? —

Oh dear Heart! dear Heart!—out of the Window

Fallen out of the Window! — well, ſhe was a Woman, and it's no Matter— if ſhe's dead, ſhe's provided for. — Here I found the Book — could not meet with it laſt Night — Here it is — there's more Senſe in it, than in all their Macbeths and their Trumpery

— look ye here now, Friend Gargle, — ſuppoſe you have the ſixteenth-Part of a Ship, and I buy one fifth of you, what Share of the Ship do I buy? —

Oh dear, Sir, it's a melancholy Caſe —

A melancholy Caſe indeed to be ſo ignorant — why ſhould not a Man know every thing? One Fifth of one Sixteenth, what Part have I of the whole? Let me ſee—Ill do it a ſhort Way.—

Loſt beyond Redemption.—

Zookers, be quiet Man, you put me out—Seven Times Seven is Forty-nine, and ſix Times Twelve is Seventy-two, —and—and—and—a—Here, Friend Gargle, take the Book and give it that Scoundrel of a Fellow.—

Lord, Sir,—He's returned to his Tricks.—

Returned to his Tricks!—What, —broke looſe again?—

Ay, and carried off my Daughter with him.—

Carried off your Daughter— How did the Raſcal contrive that?

Oh, Dear Sir, — the Watch alarmed us a while ago, and I found a Ladder at the Window—ſo I ſuppoſe my young Madam made her Eſcape that Way.—

Wounds! what Buſineſs had the Fellow with your Daughter?

I wiſh I had never taken him into my Houſe—He may debauch the poor Girl—

And ſuppoſe he does—ſhe's a Woman an't ſhe?—Ha! ha! Friend Gargle, Ha! ha!—

Dear Sir, how can you talk thus to a Man diſtracted?

I'll never ſee the Fellow's Face.

Secrets! Secrets! ^†

What are you in the Secret, Friend?—

To be ſure, there be Secrets in all Families—but, for my Part, I'll not ſpeak a Word pro or con, till there's a Peace.

You won't ſpeak, Sirrah!—I'll make you ſpeak—Do you know nothing of this Numſkull?—

Who, I Sir? — He came home laſt Night from your Houſe, and went out again directly.—

You ſaw him then—

Yes Sir, —ſaw him to be ſure Sir—he made me open the Shop Door for him—he ſtopp'd on the Threſhold and pointed at one of the Clouds and aſked me if it was not like an Ouzel?—

Like an ouzel?—wounds! what's an Ouzel?—

And the young Dog came back in the dead of Night to ſteal away my Daughter.

I'll tell you what Friend Gargle—I'll think no more of the Fellow—let him bite the Bridle—I'll go mind my Buſineſs, and not miſs an Opportunity.

Good now Mr. Wingate, don't leave me in this Affliction, —conſider when the animal Spirits are properly employ'd, the whole Syſtem's exhilerated, a proper Circu⯑lation in the ſmaller Duſts or Capillary Veſ⯑ſels—

Look ye there now—the Fellow's at his Ducks again, ha! ha!

But when the Spirits are under In⯑fluence—

Ha! ha! what a fine Fellow you are now?—you're as Mad with your Phyſical Nonſenſe, as my Son with his Shakeſpear and Ben Thompſon—

Dear Sir, let us go in queſt of him—he ſhall be well Phlebotomized, and for the future I'll keep his Solids and Fluids in proper Ballance—

Don't tell me of your Solids—I tell you he'll never be Solid—and ſo I'll go^* [38] and mind my Buſineſs—let me ſee where is this chap—

ay, ay, at the Crown and Rolls—good morning Friend Gargle—don't plague yourſelf about the Numſkull—ſtudy Fractions Man; Vul⯑gar Fractions will carry you thro' the World, Arithmetical Proportion is when the Ante⯑cedent and Conſequent, — a —

Who are you pray?—what do you want?—

Is one Mr. Gargle here?

Yes—who wants him?—

Here's a Letter for you?—

Let me ſee it. O dear Heart!—

—'Slidikins, this is a Letter from that unfortunate young Fellow—

Let me ſee it Gargle—

A moments patience good Mr. Wingate, and this may unravel all—

—Poor young Man!—his Brain is certain⯑ly turned—I can't make Head or Tale of it—

Ha! ha!—you're a pretty Fel⯑low—give it me man—I'll make it out for you—'tis his Hand ſure enough

To Mr. Gargle, &c.

‘Moſt potent, Grave^*and Reverend Doctor, my very noble and approved good Maſter, that I have ta'en away your Daughter it is moſt true, true I will Marry her;^†—'tis true 'tis [39] Pity, and Pity 'tis, 'tis true.’—What in the name of Common Senſe is all this? ‘^* I have done your Shop ſome Service, and you know it, no more of that—^†yet I could wiſh, that at this Time, I had not been this Thing—what can the Fellow mean?—For Time ^‡may have yet one fated Hour to come which wing'd with Liberty may overtake oc⯑caſion paſt’—overtake occaſion paſt!—Time and Tide waits for no Man—"^§ I ex⯑pect redreſs from thy noble Sorrows — thine and my poor Countries ever." R. Wingate.

Mad as a March Hare! I have done with him—let him ſtay till the Shoe pinches, a crack-brained Numſkull!

An't pleaſe ye Sir, I fancys the Gentleman is a little beſide himſelf —he took hold un me here by the Collar, and called me Villain^** and bid me prove his Wife a Whore — Lord help him, I never ſee'd the Gentleman's Spouſe in my born Days be⯑fore.

Is ſhe with him now?

I believe ſo — There a likely young Woman with him all in Tears—

My Daughter to be ſure —

Let the Fellow go and be hang'd—Wounds! I would not go the Length of my Arm to ſave the Villain from the Gallows▪ where was he, Friend, when he gave you this Letter? —

I fancy, Maſter, the Gentleman's^‖ [40] under Troubles—I brought it from a Spunging-Houſe.

From a Spunging-Houſe!

Yes, Sir, in Grays-Inn-Lane.

Let him lie there, let him lie there—I am glad of it—

Do my dear Sir, let us ſtep to him —

No, not I, let him ſtay there—this it is to have a Genius— ha! ha!—a Genius! — ha! ha! — a Genius is a fine Thing indeed! — ha! ha!

Poor Man! he has certainly a Fe⯑ver on his Spirits—do you ſtep in with me, honeſt Man, till I ſlip on my Coat, and then I'll go after this unfortunate Boy.

Yes, Sir, — it's in Grays-inn-Lane.

Here's my Service to you young Gentleman—Don't be uneaſy — the Debt is not much — why do you look ſo ſad?

Becauſe^*Captivity has robb'd me of a juſt and dear Diverſion.

Never look ſulky at me — I never uſe any body ill—Come, it has been many a good Man's Lot—here's my Service to you—but we've no Liquor—come, we'll have t'other Bowl—

^*I've now not fifty Ducats in the World — yet ſtill I am in Love, and pleas'd with Ruin—

What do you ſay? —you've fifty Shillings, I hope.—

^†Now thank Heaven! I'm not worth a Groat —

Then there's no Credit here, I can tell you that — you muſt get Bail, or go to Newgate—who do you think is to pay Houſe-rent for you? — You ſee your Friends won't come near you — They've all anſwered in the old Cant —‘I've pro⯑miſed my Wife never to be Bail for any Body;’ or, ‘I've ſworn not to do it’—or ‘I'd lend you the Money if I had it, but deſire to be ex⯑cuſed from bailing any Man.’—The Porter you juſt now ſent, will bring the ſame An⯑ſwer, I warrant — Such Poverty-ſtruck Devils as you ſhan't ſtay in my Houſe —you ſhall go to Quod, I can tell you that —

Coming, coming, I am coming—I ſhall lodge you in Newgate, I promiſe you, before Night, — not worth a Groat!—you're a fine Fellow to ſtay in a Man's Houſe— You ſhall go to Quod.

Come, clear up, Charlotte, never mind this — come, now—let us act the Priſon-Scene in the Mourning-Bride—

How can you think of acting Speeches, when we're in ſuch Diſtreſs?—

Nay, but my dear Angel. —

Huſh! Do, dear Sir, let us liſten to him—I dare ſay he repents—

Wounds! — what Cloaths are thoſe the Fellow has on? — Zookers, the Scoundrel has robbed me.—

Come, now we'll practice an Atti⯑tude—How many of 'em have you?—

Let me ſee—one—two—three—and then in the fourth Act, and then—O Gemini I have ten at leaſt—

That will do ſwimmingly—I've a round Dozen myſelf—Come now begin—you fancy me dead, and I think the ſame of you—now mind—

Only mind the Villain.—

O thou ſoft fleeting Form of Linda⯑mira!—

^*Illuſive Shade of my beloved Lord!

^†She lives, ſhe ſpeaks and we ſhall ſtill be happy.—

You lye you Villain, you ſhan't be happy.—

^‡Perdition catch your Arm, the Chance is thine.—

So my young Madam—I have found you again.—

^‖ Capulet forbear; Paris let looſe your Hold—She is my Wife—our Hearts are twined together.—

Sirrah! Villain! I'll break every Bone in your Body—

^*Parents have flinty Hearts, no Tears can move 'em: Children muſt be wretched—

Get off the Ground, you Villain; get off the Ground.—

It's a Pity there are no Scene-drawers to lift me—

A Scoundrel, to rob your Father; you Raſcal I've a Mind to break your Head.

^†What, like this?

It's mighty well, young Man—Zookers! I made my own Fortune; and I'll take a Boy out of the Blue-coat-Hoſpital, and give him all I have.—Look-ye here, Friend Gargle—You know I'm not a hard-hearted Man—The Scoundrel, you know, has robbed me; ſo, d'ye ſee, I won't hang him,—I'll only tranſport the Fellow—And ſo, Mr.Catchpole, —you may take him to Newgate.—

Well but, Dear Sir, you know I always intended to marry my Daughter into your Family; and if you let the young Man be ruined, my Money muſt all go into ano⯑ther Channel.—

How's that?—into another Chan⯑nel!—Muſt not loſe the handling of his Money—Why, I told you, Friend Gargle, I'm not a hard-hearted Man.—

Why no, Sir—but your Paſſions—However, if you will but make the young Gentleman ſerve out the laſt Year of his Ap⯑prenticeſhip, you know I ſhall be giving over, and I may put him into all my Practice.—

Ha! ha!—Why—if the Block⯑head would but get as many crabbed phyſical Words from Hyppocrites and Allen, as he has from his nonſenſical Trumpery,—ha! ha!—I don't know, between you and I, but he might paſs for a very good Phyſician.—

^*And muſt I leave thee, Juliet?—

Charlotte. Nay, but, prithee now have done with your Speeches — You ſee we are brought to the laſt Diſtreſs, and ſo you had better make it up—

Why for you're Sake, my Dear, I could almoſt find it in my Heart—

You'll ſettle your Money on your Daughter?—

You know it was always my Inten⯑tion.—

I muſt not let the Caſh ſlip thro' my Hands:

Look-ye here, young Man—I am the beſt-natured Man in the World—How came this Debt, Friend?

The Gentleman gave his Note at Briſtol, I underſtands, where he boarded—'tis but twenty Pounds.—

Twenty Pounds! Well, why don't you ſend to your Friend Shakeſpear now to bail you—ha! ha! I ſhould like to ſee Shakeſpear give Bail—ha! ha!—Mr. Catchpole, will you take Bail of Ben Thompſon, and Shakeſpear and Odyſſey Popes? —

No ſuch People have been here, Sir—are they Houſe-keepers?—

^†You do not come to mock my Miſeries?—

Huſh! young man, you'll ſpoil all—Let me ſpeak to you—How is your Digeſtion?

^*Throw Phyſic to the Dogs, I'll none of it—

Nay, but dear Dick for my Sake—

What ſays he, Gargle—

He repents, Sir—he'll reform.—

That's right Lad—now you're right—and if you will but ſerve out your Time, my Friend Gargle here, will make a Man of you—Wounds! you'll have his Daughter and all his Money—And if I hear no more of your Trumpery, and you mind your Buſineſs, and ſtick to my little Charlotte, and make me a Grandfather in my old Days,—Egad, you ſhall have all mine too—that is when I'm dead.—

Charlotte,—that will do rarely, and we may go to the Play as often as we pleaſe—

O Gemini, it will be the pureſt Thing in the World, and we'll ſee Romeo and Juliet every Time it is acted.—

Ay, and that will be a hundred Times in a Seaſon at leaſt. — Beſides, it will be like a Play, if I reform at the End—^† Sir, free me ſo far in your moſt generous Thoughts, that I have ſhot my Arrow o'er the Houſe, and hurt my Brother—

What do you ſay, Friend?—

Nay, but prithee now do it in plain Engliſh—

Well, well, I will—He knows nothing of Metaphors—Sir, you ſhall find for the future, that we'll both endeavour to give you all the Satisfaction in our Power. —

Very well, that's right — you may do very well — Friend Gargle, I'm over⯑joy'd—

Chearfulneſs, Sir, is the principal Ingredient in the Compoſition of Health.—

Wounds! Man, let's hear no more of your Phyſick—here, young Man, put this Book in your Pocket, and let me ſee how ſoon you'll be Maſter of Vulgar Frac⯑tions. —Mr. Catchpole, ſtep home with me, and I'll pay you the Money — you ſeem to be a notable Sort of a Fellow, Mr. Catchpole, —could you nab a Man for me?

— Faſt enough, Sir, when I've the Writ—

Very well, come along—I lent a young Gentleman a Hundred Pounds, — a cool Hundred he call'd it— ha! ha! —it did not ſtay to cool with him — I had a good Praemium; but I ſha'n't wait a Mo⯑ment for that—come along, young Man;—what Right have you to twenty Pounds?— give you twenty Pounds!—I never was obliged to my Family for twenty Pounds—but I'll ſay no more — if you have a Mind to thrive in this World, make your⯑ſelf uſeful is the Golden Rule.

My dear Charlotte, as you are to be my Reward, I will be a new Man —

Well, now I ſhall ſee how much you love me—

It ſhall be my Study to deſerve you—and ſince we do'n't, go on the Stage, it's ſome Comfort that the World's a Stage, and all the Men and Women merely Players.