SCENE I.
A rural Proſpect, with a View of a Gentleman's Seat at a Diſtance.

YOUR Maſter's a Raſcal!—unknown to me marrying my Daughter, then leaving her behind him at Canada, and here ſtepping into all the Vices of London, a ſingle Gentleman forſooth! Deny his Marriage!—but I'll ſtrip him of his new got Wealth.

Huſh! that's likely to happen without your help: You know that old Humouriſt his Uncle, Col. Dormont, wiſhing to avoid the Buſtle and Etiquette of Rank, as a Trick gave my Maſter here the Enjoyment of his Fortune, of which hearing he makes ſo ill a Uſe, he has abſolutely advertis'd in the News Papers to find if he han't ſome other Relation living to transfer it to.

Then he has another Relation hereabouts too, and to find him is what brought me now into Kent.

What's his name?

I won't tell.

Me you may; I'm Captain Valentine's Stew⯑ard to be ſure; but I was plac'd here by his Uncle merely as a Guard over him; and harkee, Mr. Fairly, you know the Colonel from being ſo much abroad hasn't ſeen him ſince the hight of a Pen Caſe; I told him tho' of his de⯑ſerting [4] your Daughter, all his profl [...]gate Exploits! He's ſo much incens'd that—here's a Letter in his own Hand commanding my Maſter to reſign every Shilling's Worth belonging to him, without beat of Drum this very Even⯑ing march out of his Houſe yonder, and for the firſt Time appear before him on the Parade, St. James's Park, to⯑morrow Morning.

Then he's ruin'd! ha! ha! good Captain Valentine! Isn't that he,

cajoling ſome ſimple Country Girl? And his Wife—my poor Child Louiſa! Oh! how I ſhould like to break his Bones; but no Sword or Piſtol Work for me; no, I'll find the honeſt Farmer that's to ſuperſede him; I'll teach a Cap⯑tain to wrong a Lawyer; I'll—

Where is this Daughter of mine? Ah! hey!

I vow, your Honor, all theſe fine Things ſhou'd make me vaſtly conceited.

Ah! ha! he won't have much Trouble to do that.

My adorable Angel!

I've heard ſay Fairies are good at it, but now I'll ſee an Angel milk my Cow.

La! Father, talk of a Cow to a Gentleman!

Yes, and I'll keep my Heifer from a Gentleman.

Stop, Farmer! Yes, I'll propoſe—he daren't re⯑fuſe his Landlord,

. I ſhall deal with you fair and open: your Daughter Betty pleaſes me; name any Settle⯑ment, or by Gad I'll ſign a Carte Blanche. You know the World, and I dare ſay underſtand me.

Why, yes, Sir, I think I do underſtand you.

I'm inclined to be your Friend—I've Company waiting at home, ſo your Anſwer will oblige.

Pray, Sir, did you ever feel the Weight of an Engliſh Cudgel?

A what!

Only a Twig of Oak like this, laid on with an old tough Arm, pretty ſtrong from Labour, and a Heart ſtung by an honeſt Reſentment.

Why, Fellow! I fancy you forget who you're talking to.

Sir, you may be yet a Parent, then you'll be capable of a Father's Feelings, at the cruel Offer to make him a Party in the Proſtitution of his child.

Cudgel! A Reptile ſting! A Weed dare to raiſe its inſolent Head, and wag Defiance in my Face.

My good Sir, hear your poor Steward; In⯑ſtead of ill-will to the Farmer, as an Engliſh Gentleman you ſhould cheriſh the Farmer's Spirit of an Engliſh Yeoman.

I hadn't a Thought Clowns had any Feeling.

Clown!—he's a Man and a Parent. For the Affront you offered, your Honor wou'dn't at all ſuffer by making him an Apology.

Apology! Dem'd impertinent this!

To⯑tal, will you take it?

That I will, Sir,

and as an Atone⯑ment, I ſuppoſe preſent him from you an Acquittance for his Rent, as this is Quarter's Day.

A pretty Propoſal! but, ha! ha! ha! I'll fit my buſy Steward,

Come, I'll write a few Lines of Apology, you draw out a Receipt, I'll encloſe it, and you ſhall take it to him immediately.—His Daughter, my bon⯑ny Betty.—Total, can you blame me?

SCENE II.

There, ſtay within Doors ſince you can't walk out without having Gentlemen after you.

La! Father, the Gentlemen are ſo tempting, ha! ha! ha!

Odſbobs! I command you not to let him ſpeak to you.

If a Gentleman's going, to ſpeak, wou'dn't it be very rude in me to ſtop his Mouth.

Then always get out of his Way.

That I certainly ſhall, if he's on Horſeback.

Zounds! Huſſy! cou'dn't you turn and walk from him!

So I did, and he turn'd and walk'd from me; but both walking on all round the Field, 'till we came to [8] the oppoſite Side, there we met Face to Face you know, and then! ha! ha! ha! oh precious!

Ecod, if Neighbour Stubble's Step-ſon, Jem⯑my, was come home from London, he ſhou'd take you off my Hands this very Evening.

Hey! Betty! your Sweetheart Jemmy's without.

What, Jemmy Jumps! ecod, now I'm happy.

Pray has London made him very like a Gen⯑tleman?

Was'nt it for that, merely to pleaſe you, that I ſent him there?

Ecod, here he comes, gay as a Lark, fine as a Butter fly, ſtout as a Cock, and merry as a Cricket.

Ay, here comes the London Beau!

Gemmen I'm yours! Mem I'm your moſt,

Dad,

hope you did'nt tell you had me 'Prentice to a Stay-maker in London.

Lud! he looks quite Rakiſh,

My Dear, I kiſs your Hand.

Ecod, if you go no nigher, your Dear muſt ſtretch a long Arm.

Why that was only Compliment, what they ſay in London.

Oh, then, in London ſaying and doing are two Things.

But, Jemmy, here's Neighbour Blackberry.

Eh! ha!

Oh! ho!

Oh, Jemmy, you can tell us all the new Faſhions in Town!

Ah, what Price does Corn bring at London Market?

Corn!

Ah, how are Oats?

Aſk my Ponies. Oats! think I'm from Bear⯑quay? I'm a Gentleman of—ha! ha! ha!—Canile!

Indeed, Father, you aſk ſuch uncouth Queſtions. Pray, Jemmy, what makes you a Gentleman?

My Share in a Pharaoh Bank; my Boots to fling over the Benches in the Play-houſes; a Glaſs to ſquint at a Face not ſix Inches from my own Noſe; my Nag to kick up a Duſt in Rotten-row; ſhort Waiſtcoat, long Breeches, two Watches, twenty-inch Cane, Um⯑brella, Hat, Chin, Beau-daſh, and Shoe Strings.

Ha! ha! ha!

Oh, Lord! he's quite rakiſh!

Then, Jemmy, I warrant on your going to London you ſoon got up Stairs into Gentlemen's Com⯑pany.

Ay, and I warrant you he ſoon got down Stairs out of Gentlemen's Company, ha! ha! ha!

Zounds, Sir, I belong'd to a Coterin.

La! what's a Coterin?

Ma'am, it's a Club, a Thing we eſtabliſhed—fitted up a Houſe in Stile—ſelect—to be by ourſelves for the Purpoſe of Play.

Oh, then there was a Gang of you?

Gang! What do ye call —? Party—Men of Faſhion—deep Play—Egad the Rouleaus flew about like Shuttle-cocks.

And what's a Rouleau?

A Parcel of—Shillings—neatly rolled up like—a—

Ay, like a Pennyworth of Tobacco, I ſup⯑poſe!

Tobacco! 'gad, Sir, you ſuppoſe the ſtrangeſt—what—eh?

And, Jemmy, who was of your—

Party? I and Sir Bruin Bickery, Marquis Del⯑pini, Colonel Pimlico, and my Lord Picardy—hem!

Ha! ha! ha!

Muſt bounce a few, Betty's ſo upiſh—likely wou'dn't have me elſe.

Right.

Neighbour we'll have Betty and Jemmy married this very Night—then ſhe'll be out of the Way of this wicked Devil of a Landlord. (Aſide.) (Pipes and Tabors without.) True, we have won our Cricket Match to Day, the Lads and Laſſes are all in ſuch high Glee, ſo your Wedding ſhall add to the Joy of the Day, ha! ha! ha!

Jemmy, you ſhan't marry Betty Blackberry, you know afore you went up to London you was Book-ſworn to me.

I went a Clown, and I'm come home a Gemman.

I'm ſure all the Difference I ſee is, that going you had brown Hair, a fat Face, and an honeſt Heart; and you've come home with a white Head, lank Cheeks, and an ill-natur'd Soul.

As to Head and Face—and Head—I'm juſt the—the Tippy; and as to Soul that is with us, Gents. like our Honor, a Thing we know nothing about only to ſwear by; as "'pon my Soul, Sir,"—"'pon my Honor, Mem,"—juſt as your Country Folks "Odſbodikins" "Gadzoo⯑kens," and "by the living Jingo."

For ſartain my Father can't leave me quite ſo well as Betty, we han't ſo much Corn in our Granary, but I've ten times as much Love in my Heart, Jemmy.

Piping for me, Molly, is—I'm not come-at⯑able

But your Promiſe—

Keep a Promiſe! What do you take me for?

Did I think you ever cou'd forget the Day you left our Village? Don't you remember as you were ſtep⯑ping on the Coach Roof, as I ſtood crying, you with one Foot on the little Wheel, and t'other juſt on the Boot; your right Hand you ſtretch'd to the Coachman, and your left as I held it mine, waſhing it with my Tears, the Poſtman at that Moment ſounding his Horn; Gee! up! ſays the Coachman, and I ſoon loſt Sight of my Jemmy.

I proteſt I've ſuch an Abſence—that—

You muſt remember your Promiſe to marry me—you can't forget the Horn.

Horn!—A damn'd odd Marriage Memorandum you've hit upon, Molly.

SCENE III.

Ah? ha! featly done! Jemmy, why don't you take a Dance?

Me ſport a Toe among ſuch Clodhoppers! Ah! ha! dance away my Veſtris and Vetchelli's!

Well, my Boy, you ſhall have Betty then; no fear of our Squire—Hey! what can his Steward want!

My Maſter is now ſorry, Farmer, for the Affront he offered you, and requeſts you'll accept here en⯑cloſed a Receipt and full Acquittance for your Quarter's Rent.

Something towards Betty's Portion,

Why, Lord, Farmer, the Squire's Men are got driving your Cattle, and they ſay it's for your Rent.

What!

On Quarter-day—this is his Receipt!

Oh! ſome Miſtake of that ſcoundrel the Bailiff!

Harding, what d'you mean by this Outrage!

T'obey Maſter's Orders.

Orders! Farmer, open that—or here, you young Fellow

read aloud the Paper you'll find there, if your Scholarſhip reaches ſo far.

Scholarſhip!

Ha! ha! ha!

how d'ye like my Scholarſhip?

An Aſs—ha! ha! ha!

Does he make a Jeſt of his Cruelty?

And me the Fool—be aſſured, Farmer, his Uncle will do you Juſtice; the Captain won't be long a Landlord.

Oh, Father!

Jemmy, I muſt borrow this Rent from the Portion I thought to pay down with Betty.

Borrow! eh! od!—it happens ſo unlucky, but I now remember I promiſed Molly Maybuſh, and Dinner's ready—tol, lol, deral.

There now, if Jemmy han't gone from me!

And a good riddance of ſuch a ſordid [...]ſ⯑cal; but there's your London Gentleman.

Ay, this ſhou'd be the Houſe, and you the Maſter; let's ſee my Inſtructions,

Blackberry—Mother's name—yes—I hope here my Search [15] is at an End, your Name is Blackberry, your Mother Niece to Edward Timbertop, Eſq.

Yes, Sir, we have had 'Squires in our Family.

Ay, but I never knew any good on't, but to make you conceited.

I have Authority to inform you that by this Deſcent you're likely ſoon to be Maſter of thoſe very Lands from whence your Cattle were drove by your worthleſs Landlord.

Eh, what, Mr. Fairly, is this, tho'—

are you really related to Colonel Dormont?

Why I did hear of ſome Relation made a huge Fortune in America by Army Contracts, or—but I know nought about'n.

To prove your Affinity to the Colonel, and hear what he intends, you muſt go to London.

To London!

Ay, and appear in Splendour as his adopted Heir; I'll have ſuch a triumphant Revenge on that Puppy your Maſter for his Uſage to my poor Louiſa.

But, beſt firſt let the Colonel—

What d'ye talk, he's a Perſon of Property, and and if he diſapproves of what I've done, let my Pocket anſwer.

Well, ſince you're reſolved, I'll inſtantly de⯑liver to my Maſter the Colonel's Letter of Diſmiſſion—take Charge of every Thing yonder, and if you'll under⯑take to get the Farmer and Family to Town, I transfer my Duty, and ſhall be there in Time to have Lodgings prepared for their Reception.

Good Fellow.

I live in Town, 'mongſt Smoak, Noiſe and Back-bitings; no, no, no.

Eh! ay, and inſtead of Blackberry you muſt take the Name of Timbertop.

But why didn't you acquaint the Colonel with your Diſtreſs?

Diſtreſs I never knew before to Day; ſo by Jingo I never thought of bruſhing up a grand Relation⯑ſhip for ſake of a Dinner or ſo, while here I could enjoy my homely Meal with the ſweet Sauce of Independance; but come in and take a Bit of Mutton over a Glaſs of my home-brew'd—we'll hear this Story, and before I turn a Gentleman, you ſhall ſee what a jolly Fellow is an Engliſh Farmer.

To London—yes—inſtead of Betty Blackberry, I ſhall be Miſs Eliza Timbertop!

Old Blackberry fall'n into this Houſe—great Fortin! Oh, I muſt tack about.

Yes, we ſhall have a coach.

A Coach!

Preſcious! I ſhall be ſo taſty this Summer; round my Neck a charming thick Barcelona Handkerchief, with a beautiful double Gauze one over it, a Marſeilla quilted Petticoat ſtout and white as a Counterpane; over that a rich Paduaſoy Gown that ſhall ſtand an end; and over that again my choice long Sattin Cardinal furr'd with Ca [...]'s Skin.

A cool Summer's Dreſs! poh!

In my Kalimanco Shoes, I'll have ſuch a thump⯑ing Pair of Silver Buckles, and in my Pink Hat a Bunch of Cherry color'd Ribbon!

Ha!

my Betty.

I'm come to with you Joy!

Wiſh Joy! oh! oh! the Bellman!

Bellman! my Dear your own Jemmy Jumps.

Jumps! now what is this Perſon talking about?

Hem! Mem! may I preſume to beg—

Beg! I havn' [...] got no ſmall Change.

Beg—ſmall! Change!—Me for a Beggarman! Yes, I muſt ha—Molly Maybuſh—ſhe's a hundred Pound—that, and a little Credit at Man⯑cheſter—open a ſmart Shop—Yes, get to town, and buckle to Buſineſs—Eh, here's Molly, how rejoiced ſhe'll be at my coming back to her.—Tol, lol, lol!

And, Molly, ben't you aſhamed to leave ſuch a true loving Boy as I be?

Yes, I now ſee Jemmy courted me all along only for the Lucre of Gain: Yonder he is, let's laugh at him—I'll pretend not to ſee him.

Your moſt—lovely Molly

Rundy what brings you here?

To ſee a little Fun, Sir.

Fun.

Ha! ha! ha!

Ha! ha! ha!

Molly, I left you crying. Methinks I find you wond'rous friſky.

Yes, Sir.

Yes, Sir.

Amazing civil!

Rundy, ſure this is a Gentleman!

Is't, indeed!

Oh, yes, for his Soul is only a Thing to ſwear by, as "'Pen my Soul, Sir! 'Pon my Honor, Mem!" juſt as us Country Folks might ſay "Odſbodikins!" "Odzookerikins! and by the living Jingo!"

Ha! ha! ha!

Ha! ha! ha!

Ha! ha! ha! again, if that what you're both for; ha! ha! ha!—Indeed! Molly, as ſecond Thought's beſt, I'll return to my firſt Deſign and have you.

No, Sir; ſure you wou'dn't be ſo good!

Think I'd break my Engagement! Molly, I claim, your Promiſe.

I keep a Promiſe! what d'ye take me for?

What d'ye take us for?

Jemmy, my Father has engaged me to Rundy here, ſo "I am not comeatable."

There—

and thus let every Girl ſerve the fortune-hunting Chap that courts the Heart, while his Eye is on her Pocket

Have I figured in London for this? The Tulip of Kenſington Gardens to be ouſted by a Cabbage Stalk! Oh, ye God's and Goddeſſes, Tags, Laces, Whalebone, Buſks and Bodices.

SCENE I.
Louiſa's Lodgings in London.

THE Apartments, Ma'am, are for a Family from the Country.

Well, Sir, the Lady here moves to-day to her own Houſe in Kent; this is ſhe, Sir.

Pleaſe to ſee the other Rooms. Sir.

Ma'am.

They'll do exceeding well, Ma'am; but

I muſt apologize to this Lady for my Intru⯑ſion before ſhe had given up her Apartments.

Sir.

Hey! they are here! 'Squire Timbertop and his whole Family!

Ha! Mr. Total's here!

Heavens! my Father!

What! Mr. Fairly!

Oh! Sir! ſhut the Door! I'm loſt if he ſees me.

Then, Madam, I preſume you are Mrs. Valentine?

Sir, ſince you know—Dear, Sir, don't I— [...] d [...]r [...]'nt ſee my Father 'till acknowledged by my Huſband, who has—

You're juſt from Canada, Ma'am! And this the amiable Woman he has deſerted! Don't be alarmed, Ma'am, at my diſcovering, I'm your Steward, Ma'am.

Perhaps my Huſband's, Sir! Oh! bring me to him!

Ma'am, he's now in Diſgrace with his Un⯑cle; turn'd out, Ma'am; his Uncle, the Colonel, is one of your very odd Sort of Perſons; means well, but al⯑ways [21] doing ſomething that nobody elſe wou'd think of; and I'm convinc'd he wou'dn't have you ſee your Huſband before he tries the Succeſs of a Scheme he has plann'd for his Reformation.

Lud, Sir, here's your Country Family come; Ma'am, won't you make uſe of my Parlour 'till your Chaiſe comes—Jenny!

Near the Time I appointed my Gentleman in the Park, ſo muſt now leave the Blackberry's to Fairly

Ma'am, beſt remain here, if you can keep out of your Father's Sight; in the Evening I'll give you con⯑vincing Reaſons for poſtponing your Journey to Kent; the Colonel, Ma'am, has heard of your Wrongs, and is determined to puniſh his Nephew; he'll teach him in the School of Poverty the Uſe of Riches, Ma'am.

Ah! my Valentine, to forſake, to deny me. I'll not encreaſe the Colonel's Diſpleaſure by ſeeing him; and yet—

Where's that old Gentleman? Here's an Officer below ſaw him through the Window, and deſires he'd follow him into the Park.

An Officer! If it ſhou'd be

'tis my Valentine! Diſcarded by his Uncle—per⯑haps diſtreſs'd—Yes, the Steward ſaid his Uncle was de⯑termined he ſhould learn in the School of Poverty: No, to, my Valentine, I cannot ſee it

Richard! that Gentleman—the Officer—follow, watch where he goes, and inſtantly bring me Word—Quick!

Cruel Uncle! to abandon him; and this unfeeling Steward—adviſe me not to ſee him—in Want!—Heavens!—the Thought!—Ah! Valentine though unkind yon have been, you are ſtill my Huſband.

SCENE II.
St. James's Park.

Follow you to the Park! but where.

Eh! isn't this the young Fellow that read the curious Receipt for me?

Toll lol! lol! eh! it is—Maſter Steward who thought to have met you in London! ha! ha! ha! Well, how have you left Ploughman Blackberry and his clumſy Family?

True, I thought you was to have had his Daughter and her clumſy Fortune!

Have me! he! he! he! certainly they were all upon the Scramble for me, as if I was a tit Bit for a City Feaſt, I was ſuch a neat, tol, lol! hey!—Betty dreſſed at me—Jenny ſkimm'd the Cream—Molly robbed the Hen-Rooſt, and Suſan bak'd the round little hot Loaves for my Breakfaſt—Becky ſung at me; Sal hopp'd and Pol bob'd at me; but, poor Things, it was'nt on the Cards—cou'dn't be—

[23] Old one, in the Country I was a Gentleman—in Town I'm a Staymaker.

A Staymaker?

Perhaps you cou'd recommend one—but right—ha! ha! ha! your Maſter ran away from you—got into Place yet!

Pert Puppy!

Never ſaw 'Squire Valentine—but hear he was a fine flaſhy Fellow! one of us! ha! ha!

I'm about ſetting up in Buſineſs—want only a Partner with a little ready—Molly's Penny wou'd have now been apropos—raiſing Capital is—I'm going now after a Perſon advances Money—but, my old Steward, you're among the monied Men, you cou'd put a Body in the way of raiſing a little Caſh—I can give undeniable Security.

I'll try it—yonder he comes—it may bring him into an embarraſſing Diſtreſs; and if any Thing can reclaim him the very Scheme of Neceſſity muſt be the Means.

Why I—I do know a Gentleman that does theſe Things.

Where does he live?

This happens lucky enough—ſee that Gen⯑tleman coming ſtrait from Story's Gate.

What! he in the brown Coat?

No.

Oh! in the ſmart little buckled Wig.

Pſha! what think ye of that red Coat!

That Officer! ha! ha! ha! a Captain lend Mo⯑ney! a good Joke!

He's Agent to fifteen Regiments.

Zounds! then he can lend me the King's Money.

There—you ſee with what Authoriry he les againſt the Treaſury Wall.

Like a prop to the Treaſury; a rich Fellow, I warrant: If you know him, my dear Boy, will you pro⯑poſe it?

Well, I'll ſpeak to him.

Much obliged—here he is!

Be you in the Way.

Only drop this in Fludyer-Street—two hundred will juſt do me—I'll do the handſome Thing—Houſe⯑keeper's Security—Premium to you, and the neateſt Pair of Dimity Jumps for your Girl—mum, now—ha!

When did you get to Town? Whoſe Houſe is that I ſaw you goſſipping in?

Then he hasn't ſeen his wife.

Well, here have I been parading this Half-hour, and no Uncle, as his Letter appointed.

You don't know his Perſon; perhaps he has been parading too, and ſurveying you.

I'll wait no longer—I diſcard him—talk of me! he's made up of Caprice and Uncertainty.

Why, faith he is a little queeriſh in his—but no Caprice—no, no—curs'd inflexible in what he thinks right—aye, he'll certainly ſettle his Fortune on this new⯑found Relation—your Conduct to your Wife—Affair of Blackberry—and—

Give me a Taſte of Life, and now turn me adrift, only for a few faſhionable Gallantries! I got them to paſs Dice too, before I left home—haven't one Guinea in my Pocket—if I could but raiſe a little Money juſt for an outſet.

Cou'dn't ſome be rais'd on your Commiſſion?

Eh—but I don't know any of thoſe Money Brokers.

Sir, d'ye ſee that Gentleman?

That Fellow that nodded to you?

Fellow! You've ſeen an Advertiſement of a Perſon that has twenty thouſand lying at his Banker's! that's he! X. Y. the moſt liberal Money lender in Town.

Why, he gave you a very familiar Nod, Total; ſee if he'll advance the Caſh to me.

I'll try—about two hundred will do?

Capital!

Sir,

He'll do't.

My dear Friend! does he know the Sum I want—Security I can give, and—

All: Step to any Tavern hard-by, and I'll bring him to you.

Eh—the Rummer—the Landlady a Cuſtomer of mine—think he'll have the Money about him!

Iſn't Drummond's over the Way? Have you a Purſe or good ſtrong Pocket for the Caſh—when you get it?

A good Pocket, but no Purſe.

Take my Glove—it is ſtout Ramſkin—the Guineas will lie there ſo ſnug in the Fingers.

And the half Guineas drop ſo pat in the little one.

You'll have your caſh between finger and thumb.

Snug as a Pinch o'Snuff.

Sir, the Gentleman will ſee you at the Rummer.

Sir, I ſhall attend you.

Sir—Oh Sir.—

A Country Fa⯑mily juſt come to Town, over in Suffolk-ſtreet, muſt ſtep juſt and take Meaſure of a young Lady.

Oh, yes, he will.

You're a dev'liſh good Fellow, Total!

But then he's ſo curs'd fond of good Eating and Drinking: nothing to be done with him without giving him a Dinner, and drinks Burgundy, I aſſure you.

Zounds! I'll give him a Bottle and a Bird with all my Soul! Yonder's Supple and Captain Palaver! heard of my Misfortune, for they ſeem to avoid me.—My Friends!

Ah! my good Sir, even the civility of the World hangs on the Succeſs of the Moment; and let your empty Pocket now convince you that Diſtreſs is the Touch⯑ſtone of Friendſhip. Suppoſe to cut a Flaſh, I aſk 'em to the Dinner you'll be obliged to give this Gentleman, and; ha! ha! Sir, to carry it on I'll deſire Mr. X. Y. before them, to ſeem as if you was the Lender.

Ha! ha! ha! well done Total! ha! ha! ha! [26] Hey, Counſellor Flummery, too!

True: I owe him twenty Guineas.

Well, Sir, you'll be now able to pay him: 'Gad, Sir, he can draw up the neceſſary Writings between you and the Gentleman. I'll aſk him.

Run—beſpeak a good Room, and order Dinner for ſix.

This Supply will ſet me going—I'll let Uncle ſee I can ſhine without his dirty Acres, but—without Houſe, chearful Home, Ability to entertain and enjoy the ſocial Hour.

SCENE III.
Apartments in which Louiſa had been ſeen.

What Accommodations has old Total got for the Farmer and his Family here?

So Rundy, you've got from the Plough to the Coach!

Ay, Sir, Miſs Bett wou'd make Maſter and ſhe go all round the Town in Chairs. I walk'd afore, he! he! he! Maſter's ſo grand, and Miſs Betty's quite my Lady; my Molly is own Maid, and I am my own Gen⯑tleman.

Tell your Maſter I am here.

Tell! why Mun in London one can call a Body from the Top of the Houſe to the Bottom, and from Bot⯑tom to Top, without opening ones Mouth,

that does it.

Ha! ha! ha! why ſure you don't ring for your Maſter?

Why, Sir, he rings for me, and one good Turn deſerves another: Lord you can't think what a Beau I in⯑tend to be here in London—Oh—

Ah! ha! Zounds who comes here?

Sir, I have the Honor to be monſtrous proud to ſee you.

Yes, Sir, you ſee ſhe has the Honour to be monſtrous—

She's faſhionable!

What! with her Coal black Hair full of brown Duſt, and her Hat all on one Side, as if ſhe'd got fuddled.

Fuddled! Oh, it's Faſhion; ay, Sir, and Mrs. Fal-lal, the Milliner, ſays I ſhall ſoon ſet the Faſhions, ſhe'll be aſked for the Eliza Cap, the Timbertop Bonnet, la! we improve ſo! Sir, muſtn't I learn to Dance!

and play Muſic on the Harp? that great Long-man in the Hay-Market is to ſend me all the new Songs, and the laſt Opera in Score.

Score! No, Zounds! you ſhall not run in Debt, Daughter! there's Faſhion!

He! he! he! Oh, Mr. Fairly, d'ye hear?—we have been ſhopping! bought ſuch Beauties!

By Gad but I believe I've forgot all your Trinkums in the Chair that brought me home—you Rundy!

Ods bobs! Rundy, where's the Chair?

Poo! you Blockhead! I mean the Glaſ's Cupboard they ſwung us about the Street in.—

Oh, Lord, Sir; the Iriſhmen run away with that.

How provoking!

You know, Rundy, I deſired you, whenever you took a Chair or Coach, to take the Number.—

Oh, I did; here it is your Honour, and in nice Braſs; I cut it off when they went into the Ale-Houſe—

Oh dear!

One from Taviſtock-ſtreet, Miſs.

Oh, la! it's the Stay-maker, Mrs. Fallal pro⯑miſed to ſend me. Do, ſend him in.

You may walk up, young Man.

Hem! Mem! pleaſe your Ladyſhip, Mrs, [29] Fal-lal, of Taviſtock-ſtreet, ſent me to take meaſure of your Ladyſhip for your Ladyſhip's new Stays; I'll ſit your Ladyſhip with a Waiſt neat as a topſy turvy Sugar-loaf.

Turn me topſy turvy! la! is that the Faſhion.

Now, Ma'am!

Jemmy Jumps! What, our London Gentleman only a Stay-maker!

I proteſt this is the oddeſt! I came to one Miſs Timbertop

A Stay-maker! oh, you make no Stay here.

Then I'll go—hey! me—Mr. Jump's Carriage.—lal, lal, lal!—

La! what an impudent Fellow!

Ay, Girl, beware of the Fops, tho' while you've Youth be merry;—

Farmer, the Colonel deſires me to conduct you to him. He has ſent his Coach.

Coach! Oh, if Jemmy Jumps was but to ſee us now!

And pray what is become of his hopeful Nephew, my good Son-in-law!

Ay, Gadzooks! where's the Squire!

Now at the Rummer Tavern, and ſoon in the Hands of the Bailiffs—

Now, Farmer you and I'll have a compleat Revenge.

Well, you ſhall ſee my Revenge, I'm ſome⯑what the humour of my Countrymen towards the French, ready to ſhake Hands, but as ready for a Blow if they in⯑tend one.—

SCENE IV.
A Room at the Rummer Tavern, Charing Croſs, loud laughing without.—

Very well, I think my Hat and Boots will do, ſo ſtep down and call for a Glaſs, and I'll ſend the Caſh down to you preſently.

Oh, the Gentlemen deſired you'd call me out from the company, and he'd ſettle the affair with me here.

Yes.

Now, I ſhall pocket the Caſh, lal, lal, lal! Oh! and Jack, if your Miſtreſs ſends me up her Stays, I'll take 'em home with me now, and alter them to her liking.

That will ſhow this Gentleman I'm a Man of Buſineſs, then he won't be afraid to lend the Caſh about him, though I ſhould like he'd ſend me over to Drummond's, it's ſo pretty to ſee thoſe Bankers Clerks ſhovel up the Gold! with a back Paw ſlide a handful of Guineas along the Counter, then tip, tip, tip! reckon ſo nimble—

With this Money ſuch a ſmart Shop as I ſhall open.

Puſh about, Lads! the Gentleman and I'll return to you inſtantly.

Oh! here he is!

Well, Sir, a [...]nt my Friends jolly Fellows?

Very Jolly, Sir, and we'd a choice fine Dinner! that Pig and Egg-ſauce was! Oh, dear! but there'll be a mon [...]ous great Bill to pay!

A vulgar Fellow this! but I'll touch his Caſh, and then get rid of him

Won't you pleaſe to ſit, Sir?

Now, if he isn't as condeſcending as if he wasn't worth a Guinea

True, Total ſaid he loves his Bottle

Wai⯑ter! a Batch of Burgundy in here

More Burgundy! my Shot will make a vaſt Hole in the Money I'm to get

Sir, I eſteen myſelf to much obliged.

Sir,

what genteelneſs to me that's going to borrow his Caſh from him

Sir, it's what I never ſhall forget the longeſt Day I have to live!

Sir, the civileſt Money-lender I ever met with

Sir, tho' I flatter myſelf the Security is unexceptionable.

Security! Sir, I'll have two of the warmeſt Houſe-keepers in Norton Falgate.—

Norton Falgate! Really, Sir, I don't know any body in that Quarter of the Town.—

Lord, Sir; it's one of the moſt ſubſtantialiſt and moſt opulentiſt Place.—

I hav'n't a doubt, Sir—but had hopes of giving you up a Lieutenant's Commiſſion.—

Give me a Commiſſion—eh—he, he, he.

Oh, well, Sir; ſince that is not—if Mr. Total joins in a Bond.—

Sir, I've no objection to a Bond if you think that ſufficient; but aſking Mr. Total to join is a Liberty that—almoſt a Stranger to me—though he has ſo kindly brought about this Buſineſs, I cou'dn't expect him to join—Oh, no!

My dear Sir, if he dare refuſe I'd break his Back.

Back! his Back! Oh, Lord! what! force him to join? Oh, Sir, by no means. He's almoſt a Stran⯑ger to me.

Oh, well Sir, if you think it can be done between ourſelves.

Sir.

how good!

the Sum I ſuppoſe you underſtand is—

Two hundred Pounds

Juſt

Sir, won't you take a Glaſs of Wine?

Sir, won't you take another?

Sir.

Sir.

Here is X. Y. againſt the whole Alphabet.

A new Toaſt amongſt the Money-Lenders.

Sir, here is X. Y. in the Alphabet.

Sir, now if you pleaſe I'll call in my Friend the Lawyer, and we'll ſettle the Affair at once.

Sir—now I ſhall touch—that for Molly Maybuſh's Fortune.

'Gad this two Hundred will make a Man of me.

Counſellor Flummery come into Court.

Well, Gentlemen, if you're, quite agreed—

Oh, yes, we're quite agreed.

P [...]ha!

we both know the Sum and Terms, ſo here goes to ſign and ſeal, and all's ſet⯑tled.

I deliver that as my Hand and Pen.

Your Hand and Pen! Oh, my dear, it's your Act and Deed you mean. Valentine, I've drawn out a Bill and Receipt for that twenty Guinea

My dear Fellow, I'll pay you down this Moment

Then, now, Gentlemen, nothing's to be done but down with the Gold.

Here's a Repoſitory for the Two Hundred

[...]nd here's my Ramſkin Budget

What's that for, Sir?

To put your Money in, Sir▪ or if you'll give me a Draft, I'll ſtep over to Drummond's.

What Draft, Sir?

To receive the Caſh, Sir!

To receive! True, Total told me he had Twenty Thouſand at his Banker's

Then, Sir, I'll wait here 'till you bring me the Money.

Then you'll wait a damn'd long while

Lord, Sir, Drummond wou'd'nt give his Daddy Money without your Order.

Really, Sir, I know nothing about Drummond, or his Daddy; I wait for the Money that you—

Sir!—

The two hundred Pounds you're going to lend me.

I going to lend you!

Why, Sir, you know that's what brought you here.

Oh, Lord, no Sir; no, no. I came here for you to lend me two hundred Pounds.

Ho! ha! ha! 'Pun my Honour here's a fine Iriſh Bargain; all Borrowers but no Lenders. But who's to pay Coſts? As you don't want the Receipt, John Doe and Richard Roe.

Damme, Sir! who are you?

Here, my Miſtreſs deſires you'll add two Bones to her Stays, and bring 'em againſt To-morrow.

Stays and Bones! Pray, Friend, do you know this Gentleman?

Oh, yes, Sir; that Gentleman is Jemmy Jumps—ha! ha! ha! the Stay-maker.

Yes, Sir; and if your Lady ſhou'd want me, I have the neateſt Stich.

Stich! Pray, Sir, an't you X. Y.?

No, Sir; nor P. Q. Pray, Sir, don't you prop the Treaſury? Oh! I ſuſpect here has been a Hum.

Total has either play'd me a Trick, or made ſome curs'd Blunder here!

Retire.

Retire!

Withdraw, you Raſcal.

The other Gentlemen are ſtepp'd out, and deſired me to bring the Bill up to you, Gentlemen.

Bill! Lord, a Bill to me! I'm no Gentleman.

It's Twenty-two Pounds, ten—

Twenty-two Pounds, ten

Withdraw, you Raſcal.

Sir,

as my Maſter keeps no Accounts with any body, you'll be pleaſed to pay for the Hat.

Eh—oh—the Hat.

Sir, I'd be glad of the Money for the Boots.

Eh—oh—the Boots.

Yes, Sir, if they fit I'd be glad you'd let me go home.

Do go home, my Lad, you ſhou'd not ſtay out ſo long from your Buſineſs.

My Buſineſs is to be paid for my Goods; ay, and I will too.

To block a new Beaver and jump into ſuch coſtly Cordovens on the Strength of—oh, dear! what ſhall I—

This infernal old Badger to draw me into a Tavern Bill, and not a Guinca in my Pocket.

Is Coun⯑ſellor Flummery gone too?

Yes, Sir, but he has left a Bailiff below.

Coming up, Sir.

A Bailiff!

A Bailiff! oh, Lord!

Sir, I've a Writ againſt you—

Well, I'll go.

You won't go, I hope, Sir, 'till the Bill is ſettled?

But I will if I can tho'.

Confuſion! Now I'm puniſhed for my Cruelty to my amiable Wife.

Here, my Valentine;

nor bluſh to receive Liberty from your affectionate Louiſa.

My kind! my generous!

My Father!

Mr. Fairly, I have wrong'd you, but ſhall make atonement here.

Do, Sir,

Total! ah! you old humming Cantoo Baboo, but now all's Forgiveneſs—Love and Liberty! I muſt diſ⯑charge! here!

Send up Counſellor Flummery's Bailiff.

Sir, he's gone: the Country Gentleman that came with you, Sir,

paid Debt, Coſts, and diſcharged the Bill of the Houſe.

Old Blackberry do this.

There! 'Squire's a different ſort of Receipt from what you ſent me for my Rent.

Zounds! what?

Mr. Fairly, you're a wiſe Lawyer; but a ſimple Farmer thinks Good for Evil is the moſt complete Revenge.

Ah! ha! what ſay you to the Colonel's Heir?

This—you're the King of Spades! Total, now where's my Uncle?

You needn't hit your Uncle quite ſo hard.

It muſt, be—Oh, Sir! as you have been all along the Witneſs of my Follies—

Vices! by Corroſives I attempted the Cure.

Which I hope by Lenatives to perform.

If you are the Colonel, thank ye; but take your Grandeur from me! Gads bobs! I find my Hands are too hard and my Head too ſoft for a Gentleman.

Well, my honeſt Kinſman, if you can enjoy more Happineſs in your Farm, I'll take care your Stock ſhall never be ſeized by a Landlord.

Then, huzza! come Child, from our little Sample of Faſhion, we ſhall return with double Reliſh for Peace, Happineſs and Blackberry Farm.

I don't Love Peace and Happineſs, I won't leave London—I won't go home again—oh! oh!

to leave London without a Beau!

oh! oh!

How d'ye do all? Squire Timberhead, a Gentle⯑man, would aſk a thouſand with Miſs, I'll take her with half the Money, ſet up a ſmart Shop without the Help of [36] your Money-lender.

I hope your Friends will drop their Guineas into my Ramſkin Budget.

Mr. Fairly, I thank you for all your Trouble, proud of my generous new Relation! Nephew, henceforth the honeſt Man in Diſtreſs ſhall be my Kinſman.