Love for money, or, The boarding school a comedy as it is acted at the Theatre Royal / written by Mr. Durfey.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter Young Merriton and Amorous.

Merr

HA, ha, ha, ha, thou art the pleasant'st Fellow—

Amor.

Nay, prithee suspend thy damn'd criticall Censure till I have told thee the Plot, and then if thou laugh'st at me;

Merr.

I shall have cause, hath—

Amor.

No gad not unless strength of Judgment, exquisite Wit, admirable Contrivance, and the rest of the noble Ingredients that qualifie a brain for things extraordinary, can give cause.

Merr.

Very well Sir, we shall judge of that presently; proceed.

Amor.

Art thou solid then? is thy face set?

Merr.

Not a line out of order, as grave as a Country Vicar expounding at Catechize: When d'ye begin?

Amor.

Thus then, I need not tell thee, to prolong the story, the Extravagan∣cies of my ungovernable Minority, thy self always being a spectator of 'em, 'tho' no friend to 'em, nor need I expose my own passionate Inclinations for that delicious Creature Woman, whose sweet dear bewitching Sex I still cannot re∣pent adoring, tho' it has been the utter ruin of my Fortunes, my dear Betty whom I now live withal, charming me as much in this my worst and lowest Ebb, as when I was a Flutterer at the Court with Coach and Six and gawdy Equipage.

Merr.

Prithee take my counsel Friend, and do not doze and slumber o're thy ruin: I lately came thou know'st from the University, and▪ for self satisfaction must confess, a great part of my study there was Woman, that dear damn'd tempting Sex as thou hast call'd 'em; I made Remarks from Rules of Physiog∣nomy, studied Complections, knew whether Black or fair were true or false, all Female Pinaccs, and how much Love would freight 'em; even blinded my own with poring on black Eyes, to finde their subtile motions; and for Noses, I knew all Natures from the high Roman Arch, to the sharp little turn-up Nose that stands as if 'twere set i'th face to hang one's Hat on.

Amor.

Very well Sir, and what does your learned Worship infer from this?

Merr.

Now I come to thee; this skill, amongst the rest of that Soul-gaining tribe, has taught me to observe thy Betty, thy dearest Charmer as thou fondly call'st her, and tho' fond love mustle her faults from thee, I can perceive, and plainly, her jiltish Actions, and must take the freedom of a friend to tell thee, she's false and does abuse thy Love.

Amor.

Impossible! her gratitude would secure me from such a baseness, if I had no merit to deserve her; which begging excuse of your severity, I shall not

altogether believe Sir; besides, her beauty and agreeable behaviour make such a large impression on my heart, all other joy is pal'd and unpalla••able, like Wine uncover'd to the Summer Air. She's all that Luxury could wish to please it.

I look abroad, and see the young, soft, fair, Then turn me round, and find 'em all in her.

Merr.

Nay, if you are upon your Raptures I have done with you.

Amor.

Besides, I have given her frequently lusty sums of gold the more to endear her to me, and that I'm sure is the Lovers best proof of his Affection.

Merr.

Yes faith, and the worst of his discretion.

Amor.

Discretion! why thou talk'st like a Shop-keeper weighing of s••ap; a manager of sense by drams and ounces; Discretion is a spurious Brat begot be∣tween solid Dulness and sophisticated Reason; a staple Commodity for cheating in Trade, upon the Royall Exchange; a virtue in Country Graziers that would fell Horses or buy Sheep; the dull Companion of bob-tail'd Chaplains newly come from the College, for whom Discretion is as good an Epethite, as Cir∣cumspection is for one that squints; but amongst the Beaux Esprits and men of sense, is, was, and ever will be, the jest of Conversation, and the scandal of good Company.

Merr.

Handsomly troll'd off i'faith; and this you stedfastly believe?

Amor.

Most conscientiously; I have known your discreet person wear his Cravat three inches from his neck, wipe his nose on his sleeve, act the Mute in witty Company three hours together, cram himself with other Peoples Jests to vent'em dully as his own at home▪ get his Cookmaid with Child in the Kitchin, and every night in the Parlour expound against Whoring, with a Pox to him.

Merr.

But did'st thou ever hear he settled three hundred pounds a year upon her, as thou hast on Betty? hah. Prithee was not that want of discretion? wert thou not a Cully for that?

Amor.

Not at all; no damn him, a Cully is a dull senseless Rogue bubled and trick'd out of his Estate by subtlety. I can own my self an Extravagant, but no Cully; what she has I gave her as a quantum meruit for her Love, & not through imposition on her part; she did endear my generous Faculty, but cheated me of nothing; and there is as much difference between Timon of Athens Generosity, and Sir Timothy Bashsops lavish Folly, as between the Courage of a brave Officer bred in a Camp and a sneaking Captain of a Country Militia.

Merr.

Well, well, but thou forget'st the Plot all this while.

Amor.

I beg thy pardon: To gain then another Estate to make amends for what I have•• squander'd away, Betty and I, being newly return'd from Flanders where we made shift to melt the last 2000 l. are involv'd in a Design, and such a one, that were Nick Machiavel alive he'd be asham'd of his Insufficiency, and thou only, as my dearest friend, I have thought fit to trust in't.

Merr.

Come on then, let's hear.

Amor.

Thou shalt & what will make thee wonder, know then, that tho' I have lately brag'd of my own Abilities, 'tis to thy Father that I am principally oblig'd.

Merr.

My Father! prithee how?

Amor.

Thou hast heard no doubt, of old Sir Rowland Rakehell a rich Uncle I have here in Chelsey.

Merr.

Pox, ev'ry body has heard of him, there is not such another drunken, r••aring, wicked, debauch'd old Dog in the whole Parish: I hear he was try'd

for his life once for for making away a young Orphan Helress to whom he was Guardian, whose Estate he now enjoys of three thousand pounds a year.

Amor.

He was so, and but for subornation of witnesses, & money, had mount∣ed for't: well, he is to do my business however, & in this manner; thy Father, to whom I am faith most infinitely oblig'd, had it seems, such a near acquain∣tance with that young Orphan's deceased Parents, that he can give account of e∣very passage between 'em, the very particulars of the Will, the most remarkable Jewels left, and each other thing of moment committed before their death to the charge of my confounded Uncle.

Merr.

Very well Sir, and what of this?

Amor.

Why this will produce the best Plot in the world; for instructed by him who knows all their concerns, it is contriv'd to dress up my Betty as if she came from the Indies, to which place 'tis said the other was kidnap'd, and top her upon my Uncle instead of the true Orphan.

Merr.

But can my Father give any noted demonstration?

Amor.

To every point, & so substantially (for else 'twere an empty Underta∣king) that it will put the old Hell-hound into such a fright, that he'll be glad to part with a good round Settlement to me, to secure the rest: what think'st thou?

Merr.

Faith it looks with a good face I confess.

Amor.

I therefore have agreed to place her at a Boarding School that the 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 look the more grave.

Merr.

I shall be the better able to assist thee, having an admirable 〈…〉〈…〉 there.

Amor.

Hast thou? gad that's rare, what is't a pretty Whore?

Merr.

A Whore! the Devil's in thee thou think'st all Women are of that sort.

Amor.

That sort, ay, & the best sort too; that's an Article of my Creed faith.

Merr.

Thou art a lewd Fellow, and can'st not rellish an Intrigue of honour.

Amor.

Not well faith, tho' I had lately like to have engag'd in such a business with a pretty young Tit since I came over, & in that very School thou talk'st of too, had not thy wise Father, who gad I believe has studied my Constitution, di∣verted me to pursue this Plot upon my Uncle; & faith I confess I was willing e∣nough to leave it off, for an Intrigne of honour is in my sense just like a tedious Fox chase, a man is forc'd to ride a long dirty race out of the way for a purchase neither worth his time nor his trouble; however, I'll be thy good Genius for once, & prophesie thou shalt prosper: for if Wit, Poetry, Musick, & all the noble Quali∣ties that build up true perfection in a man are capable of winning her, she's thine.

Merr.

Oh Sir, no flattery to your friend; yet I must own, tho Poetry be a drug to the dull part of the unthinking World, it is to her a Jewel worth her prizing; she's skill'd in Books friend, a rarity in Women, especially bred in a Boarding School; she has all her Sexes graces without their frailty, Modesty without their Affectation, wit without their Mischief, & Love without their Levity; then for Beauty, she has enough to make a Man an Atheist, believing there could be no greater Heaven.

Amor.

Now who's in Rapture?

Merr.

Oh 'tis impossible I should avoid it when she's the Subject.

Amor.

How now, who have we here?

Enter Le Prate, singing and adjusting himself fantastically. Le Prate sings.] Dans nous Bois Silvandre Escria.

Merr.

A pox on him, I know him already by his damn'd tone; tis one Mon∣sieur le Prate, a singing, dancing, talking fluttering Nothing, a Fellow whose chief discourse is always in bragging of the mighty Actions of the French King, for which he is loudly cry'd up by all that party: he's a great Intrigner too, but then 'tis the French way, that is, he never brings it to any effect; but above all, such an eternall Tongue pad, that the clack on't never ceases, no not in his sleep; in short, he's right Frenchman in his nicest qulaity; & now am I wishing for Morose's Nightcaps only to defend my Ears against him, for I see he has us in the Wind.

Amor.

Gad have but patience, and thou shalt hear me gabble with him; I have as good a knack at bauling as he.

Merr.

So, I am likely to be well entertain'd.

Le Prat.

Tholl, loll, loll—Ah Messires come vous portezvous, Well let me never be appee in de possession of de fair Angel dat I adore, if I have not a bin sick for the sight of my dear Monsieur Merriton, he is de life de soule of Conversation, a bon Companee, all de rest dat I meet are dull efford, flat, Scoundrels, not fit for a man of parts to sprinkle the dew of Wit upon. I tell you vat, I just now came from London from de, how you call it, de house of de Parlement, de place vere de greata people make a deLaw, & de Gospel too begar I tink, just by de great Shursh yonder, & dere de first ting I hear vas a dam Rascal Sloven out at de Elbow talk politique & settling de Nation vid anoder Blockhead who sware so loud dat de ver wind of de oath blew off a reverend Bishops hat begar dat vas going to serve his Country in de oder house, den after when I came into de great Hall below, dere one confounded Lawyer teize me two whole hour vid simple story lessening de vast & immortal glory of de great & renown'd Monarch of France begar.—A plague wat Conversation is dis? what son of whore dere be in de world, hah deer Merriton? hah Monsieur, vat you tink, hah?

Amor.

Why gad for my part I think the Lawyer was in the right, and that your great and monstrous Monarch that you talk of, will be par'd less, and brought into shape very shortly.

Le Prat.

Zoon, vat you say le grand Roy de France par'd less? how you mean Monsieur? vat is pare less? Zoon I no understand you.

Merr.

So, the Wind rises, now for the storm.

Amor.

Shid mauld, Monsieur, some of the brood of old English Harry the Fifth are yet alive, who unable to bear Insolences so disgraceful to their ancient glory, shall unite together, and fight, baffle, rout and confound—

Le Prat.

The great Monarch of France?

[hastily.

Amor.

Lop off his fluttering pride and ill got grandeur, and pare him for their use like a Cork for a bottle.

Le Prat.

Who, the great Monarch of France?

[fiercely.

Amor.

I see him tumbling already, he's going with a Vengeance, lost, ir∣recoverably gone.

Le Prat.

Zoon who, the great Monarch of France?

[more fiercely.

Amor.

The great Monarch of France? Ay the great Monarch of France. What a poxd'ye take him for a Devil, and think that no body can cope with him?

Le Prat.

Yes begar, you will find him too grand a Devil for you to conjure, ha, ha, ha. Le grand Roy de France going down, it make a me smile; but you English have such sine faculty of bragging, dere is no Nation under the Sun, dat compare wi••h your true Englishmen, for dat the French sneer, and make grimace, the Dutch

belch, the Spaniard strut, the German huff, the Danes tope, & the Englishmen only brag, brag, brag, & do noting begar, ha, ha, ha, my dear Monsieur Merriton, vat say you?

Merr.

I beg your pardon, faith nothing not I Sir: I think you have said e∣nough for us both.

Amor.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Le Prat.

You laugh, ver good, you have ver good diversion; you tinke this grand Diable as you call him is going down too; but vat if I tell you he is ra∣ther coming up, up here into your Country, and vat if he bring one hundred towsand little Devil with huge long horn to butt at you, vat den, vat den.

Amo.

Why then we'll cull an Army of Cuckolds out of the City to butt at him agen, we have as many horns as he or else the Devil's in't.

Le Prat.

Very well, do, do, abuse the City, do, anger 'em, & make 'em keep up their Wives, and call in the money they've lent, make dem refuse to raise the Regiments they promis'd, do.

Amor.

No faith, I'm resolved to speak well of 'em, in certain hope that those very Regiments shall be the first to rouze your great French Dragon out of his den; they'r all swinging Warriours, I tell you that besides.

Le Prat.

Besides? but hark ye, but hark ye.

Amor.

Nay nay, hark you, I say there is another stratagem.

Le Prat.

Zoon hear a me speak, morblea•• hear a me speak, I say dat—

Amor.

I say that the Common Council of London have within this two days made an order.—

Le Prat.

I say that de policy of France have thought fit

[speaking both together.

Merr.

So, so, hallooe, hallooe, ten Crowns to one on the French Tarrier.

[Apart.

Amor.

Politically, judiciously, wisely for the safety of the people.

Le Prat.

Zoon will you not give me leave? I tell you dat de best—

Amor.

Tell me nothing, the best at a stratagem in the whole World is—

Le Prat.

Is the French King, begar, there I got before you.

Amor.

The French King, a pox, we shall starve him in one six months longer, the loss of his Wine Trade has almost broke his heart already, that one Law has undone him.

Le Prat.

Yes begar, just as much as de other Law for selling Wine at sixpence de quart did the Vintners, morblea•• he know ver well how much you English care for de Law, or de Gospel either: on my Consiense I was particularly de∣sign'd by Providence to confront & rally the Vices of your Country: I perceive every day so many filthy Crime, fulsome follies, damd Extravagance, & ungene∣rous Action, that dear Merriton I cannot forbear telling thee as my bosome-Friend, that I cannot help being extreamly fatigu'd & disturb'd & am begar eternally—

Merr.

Eternally prating, a pox take thee, and I am the unlucky Dog doom'd to be worried,—buz—in short, Amorous and I have some business together, there∣fore prithee let me beg thee to be so civil as to leave us.

Le Prat.

Leave us, dat is very fine, dere be a touch now of right English breed∣ing, they never distinguish a man of parts from the nasty Vulgar; foh I hate ill manners like a Toad, but times will turn, the French are coming d'ye hear, that's my comfort: five hundred Sail, & a thousand Fireships, they're coming ma foy.

Merr.

Well, get thee gone & let 'em come and be damn'd.

[R••ent. & Ex.

Le Prat.

A thousand Fireships, Zoon there will be a blaze.

Merr.

Prithee oblige us and go—Dear Le Prate be so civil.

Amor.

The Rogue has made me sweat like a Hos••es in the dog days.

[aside.

Le Prat.

Why then all Raillery apart morbleau I cannot be civil if I would, not stir one foot from dis place, for I've appointed Musick this instant to meet me here to serenade a Lady that lodges just there at the corner of that house, ah, and see here they come Messires sortbein venu.

Enter Musitians.

Amor.

This Lady he speaks of is my Betty, that window there belongs to her Apartment, she has told me indeed of a fiding Fool that often addressed him∣self this way, and now I find 'tis this Coxcomb.

Merr.

Art thou not jealous?

Amor.

What of such a thing? prithee have a better opinion of me and her too; I'm satisfied she knows him for a Fool.

Merr.

And perhaps likes him the better; Women have stranged Appetites, a man of sense, as a good standing dish, may go down a little a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but a Fool is generally their belov'd second course & desert, Trash & 〈…〉〈…〉 suits their longing.

Amor.

To convince thee of the contrary in her, 〈…〉〈…〉 is instructing aside here & thou shalt see how she'll use him.

[〈…〉〈…〉▪

Merr.

With all my heart, for I confess I am yet an Insidel.

[〈…〉〈…〉▪

SONG.

As soon as day began to peep And little twinkling stars withdrew, Begar me cou'd no longer sleep, Dear charming Devil for you; But from my weary tumbled Bed Must early rouze my pensive head, My passion to pursue, To come with Fiddle, Song, and Voice, To bid good morr, to your bright Eyes Me love so much morbleau.

Second movement.

With sitting up late at your Window or Gate, With howling and squawling I'm grown a meer Cat, And all that your grace I may win: I scratch and I purr at your cruel heart's door, And mew, mew, mew, to come in.

II.

Sometime that ugly Witch despair Make me believe you frown And tempt me which is ver severe, To hang my self or drown. But tho' me dare with Rival sight, And watch your door whole Winter night, Yet me no care to swing. De Voice, de Fiddle, and de Song To say I love, and say how strong, Begar is must de better Ting. With sitting, &c.

Enter Oyley.

Le Prat.

Oh, I see she has sent for me: Tres humble serviture sweet Mi∣stress Oyley.

[Combs his Peruke, &c.

Oyley.

Sir, my Lady wonders you are not ashamed to make this noise to di∣sturb the neighbours: she bid me tell you too, that she admires you should think that pitifull fidling and piping should win a Lady of her Beauty and Quality; so first desiring a Cessation of Cat-guts, she implores your absence.—The Fool has been here twice a piping without a penny of money in's Pocket, which I can assure him will not take with us.

[Exit.

Le Prat.

Not fidling and piping win a Lady? A plague of your damn'd Eng∣lish Brutality: Zoon there is no other way in France to win de Lady, but dat; a Lady there, shall as soon take a Gentleman with a good Pipe as a good Patrimo∣ny; but here, noting will do but money, money, a plague take her. Gazoone I must get some and present her, for I love her damnably, and I see dere is no oder way; along Messires.

[Ex. Le Prate and Musick.

Amor.

Now, did not I tell thee how she'd use him; I know she hates all man∣kind but me.

Merr.

Still I say be wary, for according to the Poet Show me a man of sense in all the Roll That some one Woman has not made a Fool.

Here she comes, my Company will be of no use now; besides, I've a Billet to write to my own dear Angel. Adieu.

[Exit Merriton.

[Enter Jiltall and Oyley; Amorous runs and embraces her.

Amor.

My dearest Comfort!

Iilt.

My Jewel—My dear Iackey, why did you rise so early this morning Sirrah, hah?

Amor.

I had business Child; but I have been laughing this half hour at Mrs. Oyley's message to that serenading French Puppy: ah my sweet life, every hour brings me more and more into my Debt.

Iilt.

And so ye dear Rogue you have been Eves-dropping, have you? Indeed Iackey I won't allow that: what can't your Mistress have a spare Gallant to her self a little, but you must be peeping, you little pretty honey dear dog you?

[Claps his Cheek.

Oyley.

Now is there something to be got out of him I'm sure, by this fond∣ness; —ah wit of Man, where art thou?

[aside

Amor.

Would I had never seen it, for I am grown so jealous o'th sudden, and my heart does so swell; go, go, get ye gone, I dont love ye, you shant kiss me no more, you have got a French Flapdraggon now.

Iilt.

I'll sit you as well anon at night, for I'll tye your hands to the Bed-posts; when you are asleep I'm resolv'd you shall play no more tricks with me.

Amor.

Nor you shant wake me no more if you go to that, with sprawling o∣ver me, pretending to put out the Candle.

Iiltal.

Do you hear Oyley, did you ever hear such a confident little dear hony lying Rogue, there's for you Sirrah.

[Slaps him.

Amor.

And there's for you Hussy, and that, and that,

[Flings his Gloves.

Mrs. Oyley, pray stand' by a little and see fair Play, and you shall see how I'll maul her, I'll smother her immediately.

Iiltal.

Oh, a Truce, a Truce, I'll play no more, but I'll pummell you at

Night Sirrah, you shan't think to carry't off thus, you shant, you dear, dear, dear, sweet damn'd Dog you.

[Claps his Cheeks and Kisses him.

Oyley.

Ah sweet damn'd Cunning, how I Love thee, this must be upon some mighty Matter, for this is better acted then ordinary.

[aside.

Iiltal.

But leaving off fooling, for I'm so fond of this Puppy, that I can scarce mind any other Business; how goes our Plot, Iacky, when is this nasty Uncle of thine to be fleec'd, when am I to act the Indian Heiress, and take my Voyage from Bantam, ah you dear little Pimp you.

Amor.

What, you expect a new Addition to your Settlement, do you Hussy, but I'll prevent those vain Hopes, I will Black Eyes, for I wont tell a Word.

Iiltal.

Choose Churl, you shant Kiss the Honny-Mole upon my Duddy this Month then I'm resolv'd.

Amor.

Ah dear, Dear Mole, come I will, I will tell rather then be punisht so, I'll discover any thing.

Iiltal.

Quickly then, for if once I swear, begin and seriously.

Amor.

Why then, in good earnest you are to go to your new Lodgings to night.

Iiltal.

At the Boarding School.

Amor.

The same I have agreed with the Governess, & have also found out a Roguish Lawyer of my Acquaintance with a Conscience & Confidence suitable to the Business, who is to be ready to begin the Process; we have got a Sun-burnt Sailer or two likewise to swear he was hir'd to carry her over and put the better face upon the Matter.

Iiltal.

And I'll warrant you for acting my part, give me but my Cue and you shall see me do it like any Player.

Amor.

If I should get a thousand Pounds a Year by this Trick now would not you want a Croshet of Diamonds, a Neck-lace of Pearl, nor no such Triffle, hah, for I find you will take pains and act your part very dilligently.

Iiltal.

Indeed my dear sweet pretty Puppy-face, not for that, but only because Child I know a thousand Guinnys would do thee good, thou knows my dear dog, I was never fond of Money, besides Iacky I have Croshet & Neck-lace already, I confess Love if I had a pair of Pendants as my Lord Keepwells Mistress has.

Oyley.

Oh, now 'tis out.

[aside.

Iiltal.

I Think they would become me as well, but my Sweet Honey Sugar Candy Rogue, I can be contented without, I'll ask nothing Dearest.

[Strokes and Kisses him.

Oyley

Finely acted I swear, ah, where's the wit of a Man now; I say still, there's not a s••roke of that soft hand but will cost him fifty Guinnys.

[aside.

Amor.

Thou needst not ask, that mayst command so absolutely, I'le tell thee more when I possess it, in the mean time be sure to get ready against Seven in th' Evening to take Coach, I le go put on my Disguise and finde out my Uncle, who is either damning himself at the Magpy-Tavern, or at my Lady Addleplots just by it, there I'le break the matter to him, and dear Fortune stand but propi∣tious now, and then my sweet pretty charming Black Eyes, and I will Live and Laugh, and Love to perpetuity.

[Exit Amor.

Iilt.

And if thou failst in it, thou shalt be serv'd just as the Mony-less Moun∣sieur was before thee: Oyley, how dost thou like my managing of this fond Puppv.

Oyley.

Troth Madam I have been admiring you, and think you have play'd a better Scene than is to be seen upon the Stage, but pray give me leave to ask

you a question, do you not love Mr. Amorous at all?

Iilt.

No Faith not I, but I love his Money which I finde this Plot is likely to bring—he has already settled three hundred pounds a year upon me, I love that well enough.

Oyley.

And yet you call him Dear, and Sweet and Honey.

Iilt.

Words, words only—meer Springs to catch Woodcocks; I never call a Fellow Dear & Sweet, and Honey, but I think him a Dog, a Cully, & a Rascal.

Oyley.

If you think so ill of him who is a witty man, and whose only fault is too much fondness, how will you entertain the impertinent Frenchman that I know intends you another visit.

Iilt.

Why if he comes with mony you shall admit him; Love for money ever while you live wench.

Oyley.

What, that nauseous chattering Fool?

Iilt.

Ay, ay, any Fool in Europe that has money, learn this of me, as they that first debauch us, do it for their own pleasure without any consideration of our Ruine; so we that are debauch'd ought to value to Merit equall to our Interest: If a Fool comes larded with Guinnys, and a Wit empty, the Fool is like to be preferr'd for all the tothers Tropes and Figures, besides a Wit plays cautiously, and upon the square, when a Fool sets deep without consideration, and there∣fore to me is the more meritorious by half.

For what's the worth of any thing, But so much money as 'twill bring. As a famous Author has it.

Oyley.

Now you talk of Money here comes Mr▪ Deputy Nicompoop, the sneak∣ing rich Gold-smith that married the famous stickler against the Government, the Lady Addlepot.

Enter Nicom and Brag.

Iilt.

I have heard of her, her House is the very Common-Shoar into which all the Male-contents oth' Town drain themselves, she pretends to rail at the Times for Conscience sake; but 'tis really on no other score but her own Vanity, for the glory of being thought a notable Woman, out-weighs all her other rea∣sons whatever: that fluttering Fellow there goes for her Kinsman, but is really her Gallant, and kept by her under her Husbands nose; so she finishes her Cha∣racter at her Cuckolds cost, and by her management of him, teaches the true Doctrine of Passive Obedience.

Oyley.

Bless me, how fine is he; I see these grumbling Ladies keep high, how∣ever they mislike the Government,

[Exeunt.

Nicom.

Nay, but seriously, Captain, and Son in Law that must be, I was strangely asham'd to have an impudent Fellow, a ragged red-coat Rogue to talk at that rate.

Y. Brag.

By the Sun and Moon, and all the Planets had I heard him, his Soul had paid for his Sawciness, the Sun should have shon through him ere he had spoke five words; but prithee honest Father in Law that must be what did the Rascal say? hah.

Nicom.

Say, why seriously I think the Fellow was mad, he had the impudence to say that he was your Father, and that your right name was Bragg, and that you were the wickedest Rake-hell in Town seriously, and then he call'd you a hundred Pimps one after another.

Bragg.

Intolerable Rascal.

Nicom▪

He said he would kick you seriously.

Bragg.

Dog.—

Nicom.

And when you went into the Coach with my Lady my Wife, if I had not stopt him, on my Conscience he would have come in after you.

Bragg.

I'll have the Rogue whip'd from Charing-Cross to Chatham for this.

Nicom.

Nay seriously the Fellow ought to be punish'd, that's the truth on't, he was as sawcy as if he had been your Father, indeed—well god-buy, I must wait upon my Lady my Wife, to beg leave of her to let me meet some Friends at a Bowle of Punch this Afternoon.

Bragg.

Do so, and do you hear Cousin, tell her that I'll be with her Ladyship presently.

Nicom.

Ay, but you wont make hast; prithee dear Captain make hast now, seriously she likes your Company mightily, she says you are the finest Man, and the fittest Husband for my Daughter Moll in the world, well, will you make hast?

Bragg.

I will, I will, I'll but take t'other turn and be with her.

Nicom.

Seriously you'l oblige me extreamly then, for I long to be at the Punch Bowle.

[Exit Nicompoop.

Bragg.

How rarely do my Lady and I manage this Fellow, she has kept me this two Years, and I think one of the Princes of Italy scarce appears in better Equipage. I am naturally impudent, & tho' I was formerly of the Black-Guard, yet now being kept well, and assisted by good Rigging, dare thrust my self day∣ly amongst People of Quality, and pass for a Captain amongst 'em; the mis∣fortune is, that I have a peevish ragged dam'd old Father, a poor Granadier who is eternally disgracing me before Company, 'twas he I know b•• the Stile that gave the late Character of me to my Cuckold, and see as the Devil will have it, here he comes, the old Rogue has been dogging me I ••ay my Life.

Enter Old Bragg, and goes round him staring at him.

Old Bragg.

Your Servant Sir.

Y. Bragg.

Yours Sir.

Old Bragg.

Do you know me Sir.

Y. Bragg.

Yes, yes, I know you well enough.

Old Bragg.

Cons what a deal of Gold-lace the Son of a Whore has got on's Coat; do you hear, a word with you Friend, am not I your Father Sir.

Y. Bragg.

You had best ask my Mother, she knows better then I, but what if you are Sir.

Old Bragg.

Where's your Hat then you Dog, Rascal where's your Reverence Sirrah, what are you too good?

[Strikes off his Hat.

Y. Bragg.

My Hat's too good to be speil'd Sir, & the Feather in•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Guinny.

Old Brag.

Did it so Sir, & must you wear a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in your H••t cost a Guinny, and l••t your Father be reduc'd to a single 〈◊〉〈◊〉, come, come, disb••rse, disburse, if you would save your bones disburse, & 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Mony, Mony, Mony, come.

Y. Bragg.

What a plague you wont Rob me, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you, sure you know the Law.

Old Bragg.

The Law, here's a Rogue for you, he's for hanging his Father, he; but I'il Law you presently, here's Law for you you Dog,—Sirrah di••••urse and quickly—or

[Draws.

Y. Bragg.

This old heathen will make no more of spitting now, than if I were a Rat, and the Devil a penny have I in my Pocket to give him, what a plague shall I do.

Old Bragg.

You have a Rampant Lady I hear you Rogue to uphold your Pro∣digality; you can feast upon Wine and Venison, when I was fain to dine yester∣day with an honest Dutch Trooper a Friend of mine upon a pickled Herring you dog; but come Sirrah, since you are kept with a Pox t'ye, let's see what Wages her Ladyship affords, lets see the Cod come.

Y. Bragg.

I've nere a Sowse upon my faith Sir.

Old Bragg.

How, nere a Sowse, what then you do my Ladys Drudgery for no∣thing, do you Sirrah, a fine Trade indeed, a hopefull Imploy, had not you better have staid with the black-smith where I put you to Prentice, you prodigal Villain.

Y. Bragg.

No I thank you, faith I've an easier Forge to work at, and better Company.

Old Bragg.

Come I'll try what Company you keep presently, I'll give you the Test Faith, I'll part with the best part of my Dinner to treat you for once: come Sirrah, here's King William's Health,

[Pulls out a brandy-Bottle and drinks.

Y. Bragg.

O Lord, indeed Sir I never dare drink any Brandy.

Old Bragg.

Sirrah drink, and quickly, or by this bottle I'll cut your throat.

Y. Bragg.

D'sheart Sir you'll undo me, my Lady will smell me, an•• she hates the smell of Brandy as she hates the Devil.

Old Bragg.

You lye you dog, there's nere a Lady of her party but has a Bottle by her bed-side every night: what a plague, d'ye think I ha'nt heard of their cold Tea.

Y. Bragg.

'Dsheart how should he hear of the Ladies cold Tea? 'tis the great∣est 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Court, by this Light.

Old Bragg.

Come, come, the Health, the Health.

Y. Bragg.

Why then here's the Kings Health, I'll top upon him as our Party use, with a mental Reservation,—Come the Kings Health Sir.

[aside.

Old Bragg.

What King? What King, Sirrah? speak the words.

Y. Br. sings.

Sir, I drank to the King, and I took it off clean, And he's but a Fop that asks what King I mean.

Old Bragg.

A Fop, very well Sir; introth y'are in the right, and to quip me better to be one, I think this Hat and Feather would not be amiss, this Peruke likewise is proper, this Coat and Sword likewise.

[Old Bragg takes away his Hat and Feather, and Sword and Coat.

Y. Bragg.

'Dsdeath what d'ye mean Sir?

Old Bragg.

To make money of 'em, and drink the Kings Health you Rogue.

Y. Bragg.

Nay, Father.

Old Bragg.

Sirrah, stir a foot after me & I'll run my Sword in your Guts Zooks I've a great mind to the Breeches too; I could flea a Rebel methinks as I would an Eel: but come, this shall serve at present; but d'ye hear Sirrah, get mony is your pocket against the next time to relieve your old Father, or I'll have no more mercy on thee than a she Tiger has of a Traveller when her Cubs have had nothing foo dinner.

[Exit Old Bragg.

Y. Bragg.

So, a very pretty business this; thus am I serv'd by this old Rascal whenever I refuse him mony; nay nor is this all, for the disgraces I suffer by him vex me more by half,—Meeting me talking with a great Lord in the street t'other day, Sirrah says he, lend me eighteen pence, for my Stockings want footing and my Shoos have lost both their heels; my Lord star'd at him like a stuck Pig, & he as much at my Lord, till having dispatch'd him I was fain to recover all by swear∣ing

he was a craz'd old Edge-Hill Officer, that I kept upon Charity. Well this won't do, I must study some redress, tho' I want Courage to beat the old Scoun∣drel; but first to my Lady, to whom I must tell some damn'd lye or other for a new Hat and Peruke; one hour's soft Indearment I know will quip me again.

Tho to the Royal Aid she'll nought disburse, To me she never fails to draw her purse.