Ah

A world of blessings to that fire we owe:
Without it, I'd ne'er make this princely show.
I have a brother too, now in my sight,
Looking behind the scenes.
A busy man amongst us here to-night;
Your fire has made him play a thousand
pranks,
[thanks;
For which, no doubt, you've had his daily
He's thank'd you first, for all his decent plays,
Where he so nick'd it, when he writ for praise.
Next for his meddling with some folks in
black,
[back;
And bringing-souse-a priest upon his
For building houses here t'oblige the peers,
And fetching all their house about his ears;
For a new play he'as now thought fit to write,
To soothe the town-which they-will damn
to-night,

These benefits are such, no man can doubt
But he'll go on, and see your fancy out,
Till for reward of all his noble deeds,
At last like other sprightly folks he speeds:
Has this great recompense fix'd on his brow
At famed Parnassus: has your leave to bow
And walk about the streets-equipp'd-as I

am now.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.-Covent Garden.

Enter MRS. AMLET and MRS. CLOGGIT,
meeting.

Am. Good morrow, neighbour; good morrow, neighbour Cloggit. How does all at your house this morning?

Clog. Thank you kindly, Mrs. Amlet, thank you kindly; how do you do, I pray?

Am. At the old rate, neighbour, poor and honest; these are hard times, good lack.

Clog. If they are hard with you, what are they with us? You have a good trade going; all the great folks in town help you off with your merchandise.

Am. Yes, they do help us off with them indeed; they buy all.

Clog. And pay. Am. For some.

Clog. Well, 'tis a thousand pities, Mrs. Amlet, they are not as ready at one as they are at t'other; for, not to wrong them, they give very good rates.

Am. Oh, for that, let's do them justice, neighbour; they never make two words upon the price; all they haggle about is the day of payment.

Clog. There's all the dispute, as you say. Am. But that's a wicked one. For my part, neighbour, I'm just tired off my legs with trotting after them; besides, it eats out all our profit. Would you believe it, Mrs. Cloggit, I have worn out four pair of pattens with following my old Lady Youthful for one set of false teeth, and but three pots of paint.

Clog. Look you there now!

Am. If they would but once let me get enough by them, to keep a coach to carry me a dunning after them, there would be some conscience in it.

Clog. Ay, that were something. But now

you talk of conscience, Mrs. Amlet, how do you speed amongst your city customers?

Am. My city customers! Now, by my truth, neighbour, between the city and the court (with reverence be it spoken,) there's not a -to choose. My ladies, in the city, in times past, were as full of gold as they were of religion, and as punctual in their payments as they were in their prayers; but since they have set their minds upon quality, adieu one! adieu t'other! their money and their consciences are gone, Heaven knows where. There is not a goldsmith's wife to be found in town, but's as heardhearted as an ancient judge, and as poor as a towering duchess.

Clog. But what the murrain have they to do with quality? Why don't their husbands make them mind their shops?

Am. Their husbands! their husbands, say'st thou, woman? Alack, alack, they mind their husbands, neighbour, no more than they do a sermon !

Clog. Good lack-a-day, that women born of sober parents should be prone to follow ill examples! But, now we talk of quality, when did you hear of your son Richard, Mrs. Amlet? My daughter Flipp says she met him t'other day, in a laced coat, with three fine ladies, his footman at his heels, and as gay as a bridegroom.

Am. Is it possible? Ah, the rogue! Well, neighbour, all's well that ends well; but Dick will be hanged.

Clog. That were pity.

Am. Pity, indeed; for he's a hopeful young man to look on; but he leads a life-Well, where he has it, Heaven knows; but they say, he pays his club with the best of them. I have seen him but once these three months, neighbour, and then the varlet wanted money; but I bid him march, and march he did, to some purpose; for, in less than an hour back comes my gentleman into the house, walks to and fro in the room, with his wig over his shoulder, his hat on one side, whistling a minuet, and tossing a purse of gold from one hand to t'other, with no more respect, Heaven bless us! than if it had been an orange. Sirrah, says L, where have you got that? He answers me never a word, but set's his arms a-kimbo, cocks his saucy hat in my face, turns about upon his ungracious heel, as much as to say, kiss

since.

and I've never set eye on him

Clog. Look you there now! To see what the youth of this age come to!

Am. See what they will come to, neighbour. Heaven shield, I say; but Dick's upon the gallop. Well, I must bid you good morrow; I'm going where I doubt I shall meet but a sorry welcome.

Clog. To get in some old debt, I'll warrant

Dick. He might have done, if he had not been a fool.

Brass. Why, he robbed a church.

like a dog will you look, with a pair of plod shoes, your hair cropped up to your ears, and a band-box under your arm!

Dick. Why faith, Brass, I think thou art in the right o'nt; I must fix my affairs quickly, or Madam Fortune will be playing some of her bitch tricks with me: therefore I'll tell thee what we'll do: we'll pursue this old rogue's daughter heartily; we'll cheat his family to purpose, and they shall atone for the rest of mankind.

Brass. Have at her then. I'll about your business presently.

Dick." One kiss-and" success attend thee. [Exit DICK. Brass. A great rogue-Well, I say nothing. But when I have got the thing into a good posture, he shall sign and seal, or I'll have him tumbled out of the house like a cheese. Now for Flippanta. [He knocks.

Enter FLIPPANTA.

Flip. Who's that? Brass!
Brass. Flippanta!

Flip. What want you, rogue's face?
Brass. Is your mistress dressed?

Flip. What, already? Is the fellow drunk? Brass. Why, with respect to her lookingglass, it's almost two.

Flip. What then, fool?

Brass. Why, then it's time for the mistress of the house to come down and look after her family.

Flip. Pr'ythee, don't be an owl. Those that go to bed at night may rise in the morning; we that go to bed in the morning rise in the afternoon.

Brass. When does she make her visits then. Flip. By candle light: it helps off a muddy complexion; we women hate inquisitive sunshine. But do you know that my lady is going to turn good housewife?

Brass. What, is she going to die?
Flip. Die!

Brass. Why, that's the only way to save money for her family.

Flip. No; but she has thought of a project to save chair-hire.

Brass. As how?

Flip. Why, all the company she used to

sexton.

Brass. Are not you a great rogue? Dick. Or I should wear worse clothes.

at her own house. Your master has advised her to set up a basset-table.

Brass. Nay, if he advised her to it, it's

Dick. And turn ballad singer.

Brass. Not so neither.

Dick. What then?

Brass. Why, if you can get this young wench reform and live honest.

Dick. That's the way to be starved. Brass. No, she has money enough to buy you a good place, and pay me into the bargain, for helping her to so good a match. You have but this throw left to save you; for you are not ignorant, youngster, that your morals begin to be pretty well known about town; have a care your noble birth, and your honourable relations are not discovered too; there needs but that to have you tossed in a blanket, for the entertainment of the first company of ladies you intrude into; and then, like a dutiful son, you may daggle about with your mother, and sell paint; she's old and weak, and wants somebody to carry her goods after her. How

with it yet?

Flip. What to do? When the company meet, he'll see them.

Brass. Nay that's true, as you say, he'll know it soon enough.

Flip. Well, I must begone; have you any business with my lady?

Brass. Yes, as ambassador from Araminta, I have a letter for her. Flip. Give it me. Brass. Hold

and, as first minister of state to the colonel, I have an affair to communicate to thee.

Flip. What is it? Quick.
Brass. Why- -he's in love.
Flip. With what?

Brass. A woman-and her money together.
Flip. Who is she?

Brass. Corinna.

Flip. What would he be at? Brass. At her if she's at leisure.

?

Flip. Which way

Flip. Of me!

Brass. Why, when a man of quality has a mind to a city-fortune, wouldst have him apply to her father and mother?

Flip. No.

Brass. No, so I think; men of our end of the town are better bred than to use ceremony.With a long periwig we strike the lady; with a you-know-what we soften the maid; and when the parson has done his job, we open the affair to the family. Will you slip this letter into her prayer book, my little queen? It's a very passionate one; it's sealed with a heart and dagger; you may see by that what he intends to do with himself.

Flip. Are there any verses in it? If not, I wont touch it.

Brass. Not one word in prose; its dated in rhyme. [She takes it. Flip. Well, but-have you brought nothing else?

Brass. Gad forgive me! I'm the forgetfullest dog. I have a letter for you too-here'tis in a purse-but it's in prose-you wont touch it.

Flip. Yes, hang it, it is not good to be too dainty.

Brass. How useful a virtue is humility!— Well, child we shall have an answer to-morrow, sha'n't we?

Flip. I can't promise you that; for our young gentlewoman is not so often in my way as she would be. Her father (who is a citizen from the foot to the forehead of him) lets her seldom converse with her mother-in-law and me, for fear she should learn the airs of a woman of quality. But I'll take the first occasion-See, there's my lady; go in, and deliver your letter to her. [Exeunt.

SCENE II-A Parlour.

Enter CLARISSA, followed by FLIPPANTA and BRASS.

Clar. No messages this morning from any body, Flippanta? Lard, how dull that is!Oh, there's Brass! I did not see thee, Brass. What news dost thou bring?

Brass. Only a letter from Araminta, Madam. Clar. Give it me-Open it for me, Flippanta; I am so lazy to-day. [Sits down. Brass. [To FLIP.] Be sure now you deliver my master's as carefully as I do this.

Flip. Don't trouble thyself; I'm no novice. Clar. [To BRASS.] 'Tis well; there needs no answer, since she'll be here so soon.

Brass. Your ladyship has no farther commands then?

Clar. Not at this time, honest BrassFlippanta! [Exit BRASS.

Flip. Madam.

Clar. My husband's in love.

Flip. In love!

Clar. With Araminta.

Flip. Impossible!

Clar. This letter from her is to give me an account of it.

ed.

Flip. Methinks you are not very much alarm

Clar. No; thou know'st I am not much tortured with jealousy.

Flip. Nay, you are much in the right on't,

Clar. Fy! A woman must indeed be of a mechanic mould, who is either troubled or pleased with any thing her husband can do to her. Pr'ythee, mention him no more; 'tis the dullest theme!

Flip. "Tis splenetic indeed. But when once you open your basset-table, I hope that will put him out of your head.

Clar. Alas, Flippanta, I begin to grow weary even of the thought of that too! Flip. How so?

Clar. Why, I have thought on't a day and a night already, and four and twenty hours, thou know'st is enough to make one weary of any thing.

Flip. Now, by my conscience, you have more woman in you than all your sex together. -You never know what you would have.

Clar. Thou mistakest the thing quite. I always know what I lack, but I am never pleased with what I have. The want of a thing is perplexing enough, but the possession of it is intolerable.

Flip. Well, I don't know what you are made of, but other women would think themselves blessed in your case: handsome, witty, loved by every body, and of so happy a composure, to care a fig for nobody. You have no one passion but that of your pleasures, and you have in me a servant devoted to all your desires, let them be as extravagant as they will. Yet all this is nothing; you can still be out of humour.

Clar. Alas, I have too much cause !

Flip. Why, what have you to complain of? Clar. Alas, I have more subjects for spleen than one! Is it not a most horrible thing that I should be but a scrivener's wife ?--Come, don't flatter me-don't you think nature designed me for something plus élevée ?

Flip. Nay, that's certain; but on t'other side, methinks, you ought to be in some measure content, since you live like a woman of quality, though you are none.

Clar. Oh, fy! the very quintessence of it is wanting.

Flip. What's that?

Flip. Poor lady!

Clar. Oh, liberty is a fine thing, Flippanta:

It's a great help in conversation to have leave to say what one will. I have seen a woman of quality who has not had one grain of wit, entertain a whole company the most agreeably in the world, only with her malice. But 'tis in vain to repine; I can't mend my condition till my husband dies; so I'll say no more on't, but think of making the most of the state I am in. Flip. That's your best way, Madam; and in order to it, pray consider how you'll get some ready-money to set your basset-table a-going; for that's necessary.

Clar. Thou say'st true: but what trick I shall play my husband to get some, I don't know; for my pretence of losing my diamond necklace has put the man into such a passion, I'm afraid he wont hear reason.

Flip. No matter; he begins to think 'tis lost in earnest: so I fancy you may venture to sell it, and raise money that way.

Clar. That can't be; for he has left odious notes with all the goldsmiths in town.

Flip. Well, we must pawn it then. Clar. I'm quite tired with dealing with those pawn-brokers.

Flip. I'm afraid you'll continue the trade a great while for all that. [Aside.

Enter JESSAMIN.

Jes. Madam, there's the woman below that sells paint and patches, iron bodice, false teeth, and all sorts of things to the ladies; I can't think of her name.

Flip. "Tis Mrs. Amlet; she wants money." Clar. Well, I ha'n't enough for myself; it's an unreasonable thing she should think I have any for her.

Flip. She's a troublesome jade.

Clar. So are all people that come a dunning. Flip. What will you do with her? Clar. I have just now thought on't. She's very rich; that woman is, Flippanta; I'll borrow some money of her.

Flip. Borrow! Sure you jest, Madam. Clar. No, I'm in earnest; I give thee commission to do it for me.

Flip. Me!

Clar. Why dost thou stare, and look so ungainly? Don't I speak to be understood? Flip. Yes, I understand you well enough; but Mrs. Amlet

Clar. But Mrs. Amlet must lend me some money; where shall I have any to pay her else?

Flip. That's true; I never thought of that, truly. But here she is.

Enter MRS. AMLET.

Clar. How do you do? How do you do, Mrs. Amlet? I ha'n't seen you these thousand years; and yet I believe I'm down in your books.

Am. Oh, Madam, I don't come for that, alack!

Flip. Good morrow, Mrs. Amlet. Am. Good morrow, Mrs. Flippanta. Clur. How much am I indebted to you, Mrs. Amlet?

Am. Nay, if your ladyship desires to see your bill, I believe I may have it about meThere, Madam, if it ben't too much fatigue to you to look it over.

Clar. Let me see it; for I hate to be in debt -where I am obliged to pay. [Aside.]

[Reads.] "Imprimis, for bolstering out the Countess of Crump's left hip."—Oh, fy! this does not belong to me.

Am. I beg your ladyship's pardon: I mistook indeed: 'tis a countess's bill I have writ out to little purpose. I furnished her two years ago with three pair of hips, and am not paid for them yet. But some are better customers than some. There's your ladyship's bill, Madam.

Clar. [Reads.] "For the idea of a new-invented commode."-Ay, this may be mine; but 'tis of a preposterous length. Do you think I can waste time to read every article, Mrs. Amlet? I'd as lief read a sermon.

Am. Alack-a-day, there's no need of fa tiguing yourself at that rate: cast an eye only if your honour pleases, upon the sum total. Clar. Total, fifty-six pounds-and odd things.

Flip. But six and fifty pounds!

Am. Nay another body would have made it twice as much; but there's a blessing goes along with a moderate profit.

Clar. Flippanta, go to my cashier, let him give you six and fifty pounds. Make haste.— Don't you hear me? Six and fifty pounds. Is it so difficult to be comprehended?

Flip. No, Madam,-I-I comprehend six and fifty pounds, but

Clur. But go fetch it then.

Flip. What she means I don't know-but 1 shall, I suppose, before I bring her the money. [Aside-Exit.

Clar. [Setting her hair in a pocket-glass.]— The trade you follow gives you a great deal of trouble, Mrs. Amlet?

Am. Alack-a-day! a world of pain, Madam and yet there's small profit as your honour sees by your bill.

Clar. Poor woman !-Sometimes you have great losses, Mrs. Amlet?

Am. I have two thousand pounds owing me, of which I shall never get ten shillings.

Clar. Poor woman-You have a great charge of children, Mrs. Amlet?

Am. Only one wicked rogue, Madam, who, I think, will break my heart. Clar. Poor woman!

Am. He'll be hanged, Madam: that will be the end of him. Where he gets it, Heaven knows; but he's always shaking his heels with the ladies; and his elbows with the lords. He's as fine as a prince, and as gim as the best of them. But the ungracious rogue tells all he comes near that his mother is dead, and I am

but his nurse.

Clar. Poor woman!

Am. Alas! Madam, he's like the rest of the world-Every body's for appearing to be more than they are, and that ruins all.

I have a little business. Flippanta will bring Clar. Well, Mrs. Amlet, you'll excuse me ; you your money presently. Adieu, Mrs. Am[Exit.

let.

Am. I return your honour many thanksAh, there's a good lady! not so much as read her bill-If the rest were like her, I should soon have money enough to go as fine as Dick himself.

Enter DICK.

Dick. Sure Flippanta must have given my letter by this time. I long to know how it has been received. [Aside.

Am. Nay, 'tis he-Ah, my poor Dick, what art thou doing here?

Dick. What a misfortune! [Aside. Am. Good Lard, how thou art bravely decked!--But it's all one; I'm thy mother still; and though thou art a wicked child, nature will speak; I love thee still- Ah, Dick! my poor Dick! [Embracing him. Dick. Blood and thunder!-Will you ruin [Breaking from her. Am. Ah, the blasphemous rogue, how he swears!

me?

Dick. You destroy all my hopes.

Am. Will your mother's kiss destroy you, varlet! Thou art an ungracious bird. Kneel down, and ask my blessing, sirrah.

Dick. Death and furies!

-See

Am. Ah, he's a proper young man! what a shape he has Ah, poor child! [Running to embrace him, he still avoiding her. Dick. Oons, keep off! the woman's mad. If any body comes, my fortune's lost.

Am. What fortune, ha? Speak, GracelessAh, Dick, thou'lt be hanged, Dick.

Dick. Good, dear mother, don't call me Dick here.

Am. Not call thee Dick ?-Is it not thy name? What shall I call thee?-Mr. Amlet? -Ha!-Art not thou a presumptuous rascal? -Hark you, sirrah; I hear of your tricks; you disown me for your mother, and say I am but your nurse.-Is not this true?

Dick. No: I love you, I respect you, [Taking her hand.] I am all duty. But if you discover me here, you ruin the fairest prospect that man ever had.

Am. What prospect?-Ha!-Come, this is a lie, now.

Dick. No, my honoured parent, what I say is true; I'm about a great fortune. I'll bring you home a daughter-in-law in a coach and six horses, if you'll but be quiet. I can't tell

more now.

Am. Is it possible?

Dick. 'Tis true, by Jupiter.

Am. My dear lad

Dick. For Heaven's sake

Am. But tell me, Dick

to bubble the ladies of their money. I have small business of yours in my pocket, colonel. Dick. An answer to my letter?

Flip. So quick indeed? No, it's your letter itself.

Dick. Hast thou not given it then yet? Flip. I han't had an opportunity; but 'twont be long first. Wont you go in and see my lady?

Dick. Yes, I'll go make her a short visit. But, dear Flippanta, don't forget; my life and fortune are in your hands.

Flip. Never fear; I'll take care of them. Am. How he traps them! Let Dick alone.

[Aside Dick. [To his Mother.] Your servant, good Madam. [Exit. Am. Your honour's most devoted.- A pretty, civil, well-bred gentleman this, Mrs. Flippanta.-Pray whom may he be?

Flip. man of great note-Colonel Shapely. Am. Is it possible?- -I have heard much of him, indeed, but never saw him before. One may see quality in every limb of him— He's a fine man, truly.

Flip. I think you are in love with him, Mrs. Amlet.

Am. Alas, those days are done with me! but if I were as fair as I was once, and had as much money as some folks, Colonel Shapely should not catch cold for want of a bed-teilow. I love your men of rank; they have something in their air does so distinguish them from the rascality.

Flip. People of quality are fine things indeed, Mrs. Amlet, if they had but a little more money; but for want of that they are forced to do things their great souls are ashamed of— For example, here's my lady-she owes you but six and fifty pounds.

Am. Well!

Flip. Well, and she has it not by her to pay you.

Am. How can that be?

tell you all.

Am. What a shape is there!

Dick. Pray, mothér, go.

Am. I must receive some money here first, which shall go for thy wedding-dinner. Dick. Here's somebody coming-'Sdeath, she'll betray me!

his yearly accounts.

Am. But Madam plays sometimes-so, when she has good fortune, she may pay me out of her winnings.

Flip. Oh, ne'er think of that, Mrs. Amlet; if she had won a thousand pounds, she'd rather die in a gaol, than pay off a farthing with it. Play-money, Mrs. Amlet, amongst people of quality, is a sacred thing, and not to be profaned; 'tis consecrated to their pleasures; 'twould be sacrilege to pay their debts with it.

Am. Why, what shall we do, then? For I ha'n't one penny to buy bread.

Flip. I'll tell you-it just now comes in my head--I know my lady has a little occasion for money at this time :-so if you lend her a hundred pounds, d'ye see-then she may pay you your six and fifty out of it.

Am. Sure, Mrs. Flippanta, you think to make a fool of me?

Flip. No, the devil fetch me if I do--You shall have a diamond necklace in pawn. Am. O ho, a pawn! That's another caseand when must she have the money? Flip. In a quarter of an hour.