Manly. Yes, and when they have heard him, he will find that his utmost importance stands valued at-sometimes being invited to dinner.

Lady G. And her ladyship, I suppose, will make as considerable a figure in her sphere, too?

Manly. That you may depend upon: for (if I don't mistake) she has ten times more of the jade in her than she yet knows of: and she will so improve in this rich soil in a month, that she will visit all the ladies that will let her into their houses; and run in debt to all the shopkeepers that will let her into their books: in short, before her important spouse has made five pounds by his eloquence at Westminster, she will have lost five hundred at dice and quadrille in the parish of St. James's.

Lord T. So that, by that time he is declared unduly elected, a swarm of duns will be ready for their money; and his worship-will be ready for a gaol.'

Manly. Yes, yes, that I reckon will close the account of his hopeful journey to London.-But see, here comes the fore-horse of the team!

Enter JOHN MOODY, L. D.

Oh, honest John !

Moody. (L.) Ad's waunds and heart, Measter Manly! I'm glad I ha' fun ye. Lawd, lawd, give me your hand! Why, that's friendly naw. Flesh! I thought we would never ha' got hither. Well, and how do you do, measter? Good Jack! I beg pardon for my bawldness- -I did not not see 'at his honour was here.

Lord T. (R. c.) Mr. Moody, your servant: I am glad to see you in London: I hope all the good family is well.

Moody. Thanks be praised, your honour, they are all in pretty good heart: tho'f we have had a power of crosses upo' the road.

Lady G. (R.) I hope my lady has had no hurt, Mr. Moody?

Moody. Noa, and please your ladyship, she was never in better humour: there's money enough stirring

now.

Manly. (L. C.) What has been the matter, John?

Moody. Why, we came up in such a hurry, you mun think that our tackle was not so tight as it should be. Manly, Come, I us all.

Lord T. Come, let us sit down.

[Lord and Lady T. and Manly take chairs.

Manly. Pray how do they travel?

Moody. (Looking awkwardly about for a chair. Finds one, and sits in it. As he proceeds with his narration, he draws near, till he gets to L. C.] Why, i'the awld coach, measter; and, 'cause my lady loves to do things handsome, to be sure, she would have a couple of carthorses clapped to the four old geldings, that neighbours might see she went up to London in her coach and six; and so Giles Joulter, the ploughman, rides postilion.

Manly. Very well! The journey sets out as it should do. [Aside.] What, do they bring all the children with them, too!

Moody. Noa, noa, only the younk 'squoire, and Miss Jenny. The other foive are all out at board, at half-acrown a head, a week, with John Growse, at Smokedung-hill farm.

Manly. Good again! a right English academy for younger children! Moody. Anon, sir.

[Not understanding him. Lord T. And when do you expect him here, John? Moody. Why, we were in hopes to ha' come yesterday, an it had no' been that th' awld Weazlebelly horse tired and then we were so cruelly loaden, that the two fore-wheels came crash down at once, in Waggon-rutlane, and there we lost four hours 'fore we could set things to rights again.

Manly. So they bring all the baggage with the coach then?

Moody. Ay, ay, and good store on it there is. [Moody here draws his chair to the front, and sits facing the other three.]-Why, my lady's geer alone were as much as filled four portmantel trunks, beside the great deal box that heavy Ralph and the monkey sit o'top on behind.

Lord T.
Lady G.
Manly. S

Ha ha ha!

Lady G. Well, Mr. Moody, and pray how many are they within the coach?

Moody. Why, there's my lady and his worship, and the younk 'squoire, and Miss Jenny, and the fat lapdog, and my lady's maid, Mrs. Handy, and Doll Tripe, the cook, that's all.-Only Doll puked a little with riding

backward; so they hoisted her into the coach box, and then her stomach was easy.

Lady G. Oh, I see them! I see them go by me. Ha ha! [Laughing. Moody. Then you mun think, measter, there was some stowage for the belly as well as the back, too: children are apt to be famished upon the road; so we had such cargoes of plum-cake, and baskets of tongues, and biscuits, and cheese, and cold boiled beef.-And then, in case of sickness, bottles of cherry brandy, plague water, sack, tent, and strong beer so plenty, as made th' awld coach crack again. Mercy upon them! and send them all well to town, I say!

[Gets up.

Woa!

Manly. Ay, and well out on't again, John. Moody. [Sits again.] Ods bud, measter! you're awise man; and for that matter, so am I—Whoam's whoam, I say: I am sure we ha' got but little good e'er sin we turned our backs on't. Nothing but mischief! Some devil's trick or other plagued us aw the day lung. Crack goes one thing! bawnce goes another! says Roger. Then, sowse! we are all set fast in a slough. Whaw, cries Miss! Scream, go the maids! and bawl, just as tho'f they were struck. And so, mercy on us! this was the trade from morning to night. But my lady was in such a murrain haste to be here, that set out she would, tho'f I told her it was Childermas day.

Manly. These ladies, these ladies, John

Moody. Ay, measter! I ha' seen a little of them; and I find that the best-when she's mended, won't ha' much goodness to spare.

Lord T. Well said, John-Ha! ha!

Manly. I hope, at least, you and your good woman agree still?

Moody. Ay, ay, much of a muchness. Bridget sticks to me; tho' as for her goodness-why, she was willing to come to London, too-But, hawld a bit! Noa, noa, says I; there may be mischief enough done without

you.

Manly. Why, that was bravely spoken, John, and like a man.

Moody. Ah, weast heart! were measter but hawf the mon that I am-Odds wookers! tho'f he'll speak stautly woo, sometimes.-But then he canno' hawld it—no, he canno' hawld it.

Moody. Ods flesh! but I mun hie me whoam; the coach will be coming every hour naw-but measter charged me to find your worship out; for he has hugey business with you; and will certainly wait upon you, by that time he can put on a clean neckcloth.

Manly. Oh, John, I'll wait upon him.

Moody. [Rising.] Why, you wonno' be so kind, wull ye?

Manly. If you'll tell me where you lodge.

Moody. Just i' the street next to where your worship dwells, at the sign of the Golden Ball.-It's gold all over; where they sell ribbons and fluppits, and other sort of geer for gentlewomen.

Manly. A milliner's?

Moody. (L. C.) Ay, ay, one Mrs. Motherly. Waunds, she has a couple of clever girls there, stitching i'th' fore-room.

Manly. Yes, yes, she's a woman of good business, no doubt on't.-Who recommended that house to you, John?

Moody. The greatest good fortune in the world, sure; for, as I was gaping about the streets, who should look out of the window there, but the fine gentleman, that was always riding by our coach side at York races— Count -Basset; ay, that's he.

Manly. Basset! Oh, I remember; I know him by sight.

to

Moody. Well, to be sure, as civil a gentleman to see

Manly. As any sharper in town.
Moody. (L.) Well, measter-

[Aside.

Lord T. My service to Sir Francis and my lady, John. Lady G. And mine, pray, Mr. Moody.

Moody. Ay, your honours; they'll be proud on't, I dare say.

Manly. I'll bring my compliments myself; so, honest John

Moody. Dear Measter Manly! the goodness of goodness bless and preserve you! [Exit, L. D.

Lord T. What a natural creature, 'tis !

Lady G. Well, I can't but think John, in a wet afternoon, in the country, must be very good company.

Lord T. Oh, the tramontane! If this were known at half the quadrille tables in town, they would lay down their cards to laugh at you.

Lady G. And the minute they took them up again, they would do the same at the losers. But, to let you see that I think good company may sometimes want cards to keep them together, what think you if we three sat soberly down to kill an hour at ombre ?

Manly. I shall be too hard for you, madam.

Lady G. No matter; I shall have as much advantage of my lord as you have of me.

Lord T. Say you so, madam? Have at you, then. Here' get the ombre-table and cards. [Exit, R. Lady G. (R.) Come, Mr. Manly-I know you don't forgive me now.

Manly. (L.) I don't know whether I ought to forgive your thinking so, madam. Where do you imagine I could pass my time so agreeably?

Lady G. I am sorry my lord is not here to take his share of the compliment.-But he'll wonder what's become of us. [Exit, R.

Manly. It must be so-she sees I love her yet with what unoffending decency she avoids an explanation! How amiable is every hour of her conduct! What a vile opinion have I had of the whole sex for these ten years past, which this sensible creature has recovered in less than one! Such a companion, sure, might compensate all the irksome disappointment that folly and falsehood ever gave me !

Could women regulate, like her, their lives,
What halcyon days were in the gift of wives;
Vain rovers, then, might envy what they hate,
And only fools would mock the married state.

END OF ACT I.

[Exit, R.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Mrs. Motherly's House.

Enter MRS. MOTHERLY and COUNT BASSET, L.

Count B. (R.) I tell you there is not such a family in England for you. Do you think I would have gone out

C