SCENE the Street.

ON my Soul, Sir, I can't but Ad⯑mire this extreme Vivacity of your Inclinations: Scarce ſix Days ſince you were dying for a Baby-fac'd Thing at Oxford, and ſcarce ſix Hours in London, till you are over-head and Ears in Love with a —

S'Death, Jerry, I'm all on Fire — well — the dear Minute of Appointment is juſt at hand; this Letter in Anſwer to the One you deliver'd her, informs me, that ſhe's kept by an old Jealous Knight in the City — ſhe's a fine Woman by Heaven — and if it be in the Power of her Sex to drive that intollerable Coquet Charlott out of my Head, I think 'tis ſhe can do it.

Heaven ſend there comes a good End on't — well, if I ſhou'd have my Bones ſhat⯑ter'd in this Rencounter, 'twill not be the firſt Time I have been paid for my Inge⯑nuity.

Peace, Scoundrel, and learn to bear Misfortunes with a Pimplike Patience.

Patience! yes you may talk of Pa⯑tience truly, while all the Pleaſure of the Sin belongs to yourſelf, and all the Puniſhment to your humble Servant — how oft have theſe unfortunate Bones of mine been beaten to a Jelly in your Service!

Why, Sirrah, if your Ill-Stars con⯑demn you to Diſappointments, can I prevent them? If ever you ſuffer'd in your Vocation, ſome unfortunate Blunder of your own oc⯑caſion'd it; you remember the Letter you gave to Charlott's Jealous Guardian? When [7]in the overflowing of your Wiſdom you miſtook him for her Footman.

Remember it! I do, by all that's un⯑fortunate: confound the old Dog — he laid on me like an Hercules. He had put on her Footman's Livery on purpoſe to lay wait for me; yet all this I cou'd have borne with the Patience of an Alderman, but the inſup⯑portable Weight of your Honour's Oaken Cudgel!

My Reſentment was reaſonable, Sir⯑rah, ſuch a prepoſterous Miſtake! but tell me Jerry, don't you think Charlott will be confoundedly piqu'd at my ſo ſudden De⯑parture fron Oxford, without ſending her one ſingle Line, or whining out the leaſt tender Adieu at Parting?

Piqu'd, Sir! Lord, Sir, I thought you underſtood the inſide of a Coquet better, tho' it might puzzle one of a longer ſtanding at Oxford, to tell what to make of her — why, Sir, a Coquet is always ſo well pleas'd with herſelf that nothing in Nature is capable of diſcompoſing her.

And yet, Jerry, tho' ſhe uſed me with ſuch a ſtudied ill Nature, I ſometimes thought ſhe did not hate me.

Hate you! no, no, Sir, in my humble [8]Opinion ſhe was extremely well pleas'd with you; at leaſt ſhe has Reaſon to be very well pleas'd with herſelf ſince ſhe had it in her Power to make ſo fine a Gentleman a down⯑right —.

Come, out with it Sirrah, I ſhan't be angry.

A downright Aſs — begging your Honour's Pardon.

Why, really Sir, you do make ſomething Free with me, but will your Worſhip be pleas'd to explain what you mean by honouring me with that extraordi⯑nary Title?

Nay, Sir, I beg you won't take it ill that I ſaid ſo, for on my Honour, Sir, I aſſure you I have ſeen Perſons of great Rank and Diſtinction act over all the pretty Follies of that ſagacious Animal, and value them⯑ſelves extremely upon it.

Pray then, moſt Philoſophical Sir, will you pleaſe to inform me, what one Action of mine happens to fall under the Laſh of your Satire?

Why, really Sir, as you have been ſo long notorious in the Claſs of Lovers, I think your Queſtion is eaſily reſolv'd: Lovers ſince the Creation have been generally eſteem'd [9]little better than—but ſince the Title of the fore-mention'd Animal ſeems to affect you ſo nearly, I'll forbear repeating it, and leave it to yourſelf to conſider, what are the Mo⯑tives which hurried you ſo ſuddenly to Lon⯑don, with ſcarce a ſingle Guinea in your Pocket, unknown to your Father, or Friends, and I may even venture to ſay almoſt un⯑known to yourſelf.

Why Jerry, I think my coming to London a Maſterpiece of Reſolution, and I applaud myſelf for it extremely. I doated even to Folly on that Charlott, the greateſt Tyrant of her Sex. You are ſenſible how ſhe uſed me — in ſhort I was become ridicu⯑lous even to myſelf, and judging with a great deal of Juſtice that in dear London alone I might hope to recover my Reaſon, I reſolv'd to break my Chains at once, and let the Coquet ſee that Beauty without Merit had loſt all Power to make a Fool of me.

So we take Horſe in a Pet, Whip, Spur, and away; leave being ſilly at Oxford to come and play the downright Fool at London; for Curſe me, Sir, ſtill begging your Honour's Pardon, if I can at preſent ſee that your Intentions are conducted with the leaſt Appearance of common Senſe.

Since I muſt explain my Intentions, Sir, to make a Man of your vaſt Judgment approve them, you muſt know that by a Va⯑riety of Pleaſures here in London, I deſign to loſe even the Remembrance of my Oxford Miſtreſs; and leaſt the Preſence of an old peeviſh Father might Interrupt thoſe Pleaſures, I am poſitively reſolv'd to avoid all Places where 'twere probable I might meet with him.

And ſo, Sir, you begin this fine Va⯑riety of Pleaſures by an Intrigue with Miſtreſs what's her Name here, this fine kept Miſtreſs — and that too with a Pair of Pockets Damnably badly lin'd — a likely Proſpect of ſucceeding, truly!

If you exert yourſelf Jerry, our Plot upon my Father can't miſcarry; then, if ſhe be a mercenary Whore? Damn Money, 'twas made to purchaſe Pleaſure—'tis now juſt Six.

And pray, Sir, what is to be your humble Servant's Duty while you amuſe your⯑ſelf with the Lady? You'll pleaſe to give Or⯑ders that the Waiting-Maid may entertain me I hope.

You have Buſineſs enough upon you Hands, Sirrah; now you ſee me lodg'd, find out my Father, and if Fortune ſmiles [11]on you, you'll find me here, ready to receive her Favours.

Zouns, Sir, en't the Street wide e⯑nough? or did you deſign to affront me?

I have other Buſineſs in hand, Sir, than either to affront you, or ſtay to make an Apology.

Buſineſs? what Buſineſs can he have, into that Houſe too? Oh, here's his Hang⯑dog, of a Man, his Pimp and Prime Miniſter; 'tis certainly ſome Intrigue has brought him there: If I don't miſtake that down-look, that Fellow is a Pimp and a Coward, ſo may I either Bully or Bribe him out of his Maſter's Secrets. Harkee me, you Sir, Prythee what Buſineſs have you lurking about this Houſe here?

Lurking about, Sir! I'd have you to know I'm a Man of Honour, Sir, and not uſed to anſwer ſuch Queſtions — Lurking about! Tum, tum, tum, I walk here, Sir, for the Recreation of my Legs, and the Pro⯑creation of my Appetite.

I miſtake Friend, or your walking here tends to the Procreation of ſomething [12]elſe — come, Sir, no equivocating, anſwer me directly, upon what Deſign are you ſta⯑tioned at this Corner, and what Buſineſs your commanding Officer has in yonder Citadel?

Who the Devil have we here? ſome young Don Quixote enamour'd with the fair and virtuous Lady of the Caſtle, I'll warrant you.

Zouns, Sir, no trifling, confeſs, or by this Sword I'll pin you to the Wall: come, there's a Lady in the Caſe?

Why truly Sir, as you ſay, there is a Lady in the Caſe, a Woman of great Ho⯑nour and Reputation, I aſſure you; and my Maſter whom you ſaw juſt now enter, is a very honourable Man, and by this Time I ſuppoſe them engag'd in a very honourable Affair. Now, Sir, I have ſatisfy'd your Cu⯑rioſity, you'll pleaſe to withdraw and leave me to my Meditations.

So, you are to defend the out Works, while the General beats up the Quarters within.

A Man of ſhrew'd Penetration truly!

A few Words more with you, good Mr. Pimp, and we ſhall come to a Conclu⯑ſion. In ſhort who is this Lady? her Name? her Fortune? is ſhe Young, Handſome, a Maid, or marry'd, is ſhe —

Hold: hold, Sir, not ſo faſt, I've a deviliſh ſhort Memory, and ſhall never be able to anſwer ſo many Queſtions in Order — it muſt be the Devil himſelf, or a Lawyer, for he wou'd fain puzzle me with croſs Queſtions.

Dammee, Scoundrel, ſpeak at once to the Purpoſe or—here's the moſt perſwaſive little Blade in Chriſtendom.

'Tis ſtrange now, Sir, what a won⯑derful Antipathy, I've ever had even to the Sight of Cold Iron; 'tis a treacherous Sort of a Crocodile Companion, that's the Truth on't, while it ſmiles in a Man's Face, whip it has him through the Lungs in a twinkling.

S'Death—do you Play on me Raſcal?

Play on you! ah Lord, Sir, you miſtake me intirely, Play on you! no, no, Sir, but 'tis my way, Sir, to moralize a little on every Subject that offers: You muſt know, Sir, I have had Part of my Education at Oxford, that Seat of the Muſes! That Theatre of Learning! That Fountain of Eru⯑dition! now, Sir, in my Opinion as I have an undoubted Right to make Uſe of the great Share of Knowledge and Wiſdom I therein acquir'd, I ſhou'd think it quite oppoſite to [14]Prudence and common Senſe to trifle any longer with ſo worthy a little Gentleman, ſo by your Leave, Sir.

The Devil! the Villain has almoſt broke my Arm.

And now, Sir, will you pleaſe to let me know what Buſineſs you have lurking about this Houſe here?

Come, come, Jeremy, you'll find I know you and your Maſter too; be aſſur'd my Care for his Safety is my chief Motive for enquiring after him; perhaps there may be Danger in his venturing into yonder Houſe. Come, Jerry, depend upon my Honour, I'll not betray you; let this perſuade you of my Sincerity. There's a Wench in Chace — Ha! what ſays my little Mercury?

Arguments drawn from the Mint are certainly the moſt prevailing in Logick, an excellent Sentence by all that's Eloquent—Sir you have rivetted Jeremy Ply, Gentleman, eter⯑nally to your Service; and tho' I have not the Honour of knowing you, I'm ſo well convinc'd of your Friendſhip for me and my Maſter, [15]that without more Preamble, I plead Guilty.

Is ſhe a Woman of Fortune, or Fa⯑mily? a Widow perhaps, or —

No, no, Sir, neither Maid, Wife, nor Widow, I'll aſſure you, but a true Daughter of the Game: A kept Miſtreſs, Sir, and as free of her Favours as any young Rake of ye all cou'd wiſh for.

So much the better, Jerry, for I can't poſſibly reſiſt the Temptation of paying my Reſpects to her.

Oh Lord, Sir, by no means, Sir; my Maſter will certainly murder me: Con⯑ſider, Sir, he fix'd me here on purpoſe to hinder every thing in Breeches from diſturb⯑ing him, beſides, Sir, your Honour, your Honour is pledg'd.

And my Pocket alone can releaſe it.

Well little London, I'll ſay that for thee, there's no Place under the Sun where Pimps have a better Proſpect of thriving.

An expenſive Affair, by the Lord Harry—but 'tis the Misfortune of old Age — the Purſe muſt ſtill make Amends for the Inability of the Perſon — how the Gypſie [14] [...] [15] [...] [16]will leer at theſe little Pictures, and how fond, and how wanton ſhe'll be, till ſhe nibbles them out of the old Fool's Clutches.

The old Knight by all that's omi⯑nous. Damnation! what Devil led him to this End of the Town?

Hah — is not that Bob's Jerry — ſure the young Dog is not come up to London without acquainting me—

Yes, the Kite has diſcover'd me; if my Maſter ſhould come Bolt out of his Bo⯑rough, what a ſweet piece of Work have we made on't? well I muſt on now in my own Defence

alas a Day, my poor old Maſter, 'tis for him my very Heart and Bowels ake — the melancholly News will certainly be the Death of the poor old Gentleman.

What does he Mutter — what melancholly News is the Blockhead dreaming about?

His very Soul was in that Son of his, and an hopeful, dutiful Youth he was as one might meet in a Summer Day's riding.

Ad, ſo Jerry—why Jerry—are you diſtracted or drunk, or what Devil's the matter with you.

Ads heart my old Maſter! the very [17]Gentleman I'd look for—ah, Sir, the moſt pitiful News! poor Mr. Robert!

What, is he Dead?

No, Sir, not abſolutely Dead neither, but —

But! but what Blockhead? he has play'd the Fool I ſuppoſe and marry'd his Bed-maker, or his Millener.

Would to Heaven it was no worſe, Sir: tho' Matrimony be a Nooſe, and a De⯑vil of a one, poor Mr. Robert is in a fair Way of being tied up in a quite different Manner I aſſure you.

What do you ſay, Sirrah, my Son Bob in a fair Way to be hang'd?

In ſhort, Sir, he has kill'd his Man, fairly kill'd him, a Diſpute happened, a Challenge was ſent, the Gentlemen met, and it was my young Maſter's very good Fortune, Sir, to pink the very Soul of his Antagoniſt: for to beſure, Sir, Mr. Robert, as he has the Honour of being your Son, muſt be a Man of Courage.

Courage! what the Devil had he to do with Courage? A fine talk about Cou⯑rage, truly: ſo good Robert Willmore, Eſq Son of Sir William Willmore of Willmore Hall, in Comitatu Bucks, muſt be hang'd forſooth, [18]becauſe he is a Man of Courage!

His Duty, Sir, and this Letter.

Hum, Hum — According to the Principles of Honour, Sir, I could not avoid calling an Inſolent young Officer to a cloſe Ac⯑count for publickly affronting me: It was his Misfortune to fall by my Sword, (fine Princi⯑ples of Honour truly) I am now under an Arreſt; yet, if any Thing hinders the Affair being immediately made up, 'tis a Deficiency of ready Money, (ſo) which I'm poſitive you'll pre⯑vent with your accuſtomed Indulgence.

A mighty pretty Requeſt! a very reaſonable Demand truly! Hearkee, my good Mr. Squire, you'll let your Man of Courage know from me, that I don't at all approve of his Principles of Honour; and that I'm reſolv'd not to part with a ſingle Farthing, and if he has no other Way to Eſcape, but by the help of my broad Pieces, he may e'en ſay his Prayers, and prepare for another World, for I'll not part with a Souſe, tell him ſo, and ſo farewell, good Mr. Man of Courage!

For Heaven's Sake, Sir, conſider, the poor young Gentleman will break his Heart, if you treat him with ſo much Inhumanity.

Break his Heart, Sir, Ouns, let him; better he ſhou'd break his Heart, than [19]be hang'd: Courage, quotha: ſo if he thinks fit to Kill half the Town in his Courage, I have Nothing to do but open my Bags and ſcatter my old Gold to ſave him from the Gallows, a good Jeſt! a very good Jeſt! by the Lord Harry.

Beſides, Sir, as his Annuity becomes due you may repay yourſelf, what you are pleaſed to advance upon this Occaſion, you were always indulgent, Sir, conſider he is young —

He's young, and I'm old, Sir, he's a Fool and I'm a wiſe Man, Sir, he's a Man of Courage, and I'm a Man that muſt pay for it, it ſeems; here Scoundrel, here are two Ten Pound Bags, ready ſeal'd, and yet I've a wonderful Temptation to let the young Raſcal Hang for it: here are twenty Pieces, Sirrah, and let me hear that he makes a proper Uſe of them, and not one Word more of his Courage—or—

Oh Lord, Sir, not a Tittle, we ſhall take a quite different Method, Sir, when thoſe are expired. And ſo Sir, with all Sub⯑miſſion, and Reſpect, I return to my Maſter, who'll be overjoy'd at the agreeable News of your good Health and the Succeſs of his Cou⯑rage, and my Parts.

S'Death, a young Dog, I wonder what Devil poſſeſſes theſe young Fellows! Nothing but cutting of Throats, Blood-ſhed and Battery upon every fiddle faddle Occa⯑ſion: But let me ſee, I muſt away to my Banker for a freſh Supply, no Reception from my Danaë, but when I deſcend in a golden Shower.

SCENE Kitty's Lodgings.

'Tis all in vain I aſſure you, Sir, notwithſtanding your good Opinion of your⯑ſelf, you'll find I ſhall make no Difference as to Perſons between you and my old Keeper, every Lover that can purchaſe a Favour, has a right to demand it; 'tis my Trade, Sir, and like the Lawyer or Phyſician, nothing but a Fee can ſoften me.

Come, come, S'Death, what means this fooling? Ouns, I took you for one of the Kindeſt of your Sex, and I won't be diſappointed.

In ſhort I'm not to be charm'd with the outſide of a Scarlet Breeches, if the Pockets are properly lin'd, why, perhaps we might come to an Agreement, but while you ſue [21]in Pauper, my good unfurniſh'd Captain, there's but ſmall Hopes of ſucceeding in theſe Quarters.

What! have I nothing about me to Tempt you? Come, I know by theſe Eyes, theſe ſmiling, ſpeaking Eyes, that you can't be Cruel: S'Death, my Dear, which is your Bed-chamber.

Damme, Madam, If I ſpoil any Sport; I beg a Million of Pardons, but upon the ſlighteſt of your Commands I retire to whatever Corner of your Lodgings your Ladyſhip thinks proper to aſſign me.

How now, my good familiar Spark, who are you? Whence came you? who let you in, or what's your Buſineſs here?

Heyday! an Inundation of Queſtions! on my Soul, Madam, you muſt excuſe me, you ſee there's Company, but in private I'll give you all the Satisfaction you can Deſire, Ratt me.

An agreeable Fellow, on my Con⯑ſcience.

Come, Madam, Alons, no doubt the Pictures in your Ruelle, are the moſt A-la-mode De l'Italian, Monſieur Permittez moy.

S'Death this is one of the moſt im⯑pertinent little Fops! Sir, as the Lady don't ſeem to allow you for an old Acquaintance, give me Leave to tell you, Freedoms, if car⯑ried too far may diſoblige her.

Ha, ha, ha! that Speech is ſo Angloi, ſo full of Spleen, and the ill Nature of the Climate, that Curſe me, I muſt laugh in his Face: be it known unto you then, moſt ſerious Sir, that I have a Violent tendre for the Lady, in Conſequence of which, what⯑ever Freedoms I may happen to make Uſe of, the Lady is bound in Honour to excuſe them. Adieu, adieu, mon chere, Madame ou eſt votre Chambre? Alons.

The Devil is in the Fellow, I be⯑lieve he has certainly bewitched me.

Ouns, Sir, what Privilege have you to make free in theſe Lodgings?

Privilege! oh Lord, Sir, I have been at Paris; I can dance, dreſs, talk French, and take Snuff with an Air: I know all the News of the Town, Sir; all the In⯑trigues and all the Scandal; can tell which Lord is great with his Lady's Woman, and which Lady with her Husband's Valet De Chambre: In ſhort, Sir, I'm Maſter of a thouſand Qualifications that always gives a Man ſome Privilege amongſt the Ladies.

The excellent Privilege of a ſuperior Impudence, and a French Education.

Sir, Sir, I've ſucceeded even beyond our Hopes; here, Sir, here are the ſinging Birds. The good old Gentleman had not the leaſt Suſpicion; but one Word, Sir, be⯑ware of Sharpers, I don't much like that little Mercury at your Elbow.

A troubleſome Coxcomb; but this, was Luck Jerry; for without this Ammuni⯑tion the Siege had been certainly rais'd. Be gone, and wait for me at my Lodgings, I'll thank thee there.

Now, is my wiſe Maſter going to prove himſelf an errant Blockhead, and throw away all the Fruits of our honeſt Induſtry on yonder Jezabell.

Well, Madam, now you ſee I'm in a proper Condition to addreſs you, and ſince I could not prevail by myſelf, let thoſe little eloquent Gentlemen plead for me;

come, come, my Dear, we'll finiſh this Bargain within; for curſe me, if I can hold out any longer.

Hold, Sir, perhaps this Gentleman has an equal Pretenſion, at leaſt we ſhould give him fair Play: What do you ſay, Sir, [24]you ſee I'm for the beſt Bidder.

Damme, Madam, I'm but a younger Brother, and forced to live by my Parts, and the Favour of the Ladies; but if you'll ac⯑cept of my Devotions, tout jour Pret, by the Lord, what ſay you Monſieur L'Argent, pouvez vous Dancer. Will you dance for the Lady?

Sir, I'll fight for the Lady — ſo without further Impertinence, deſire you to withdraw.

Damme, Sir, do you think to frighten me.

Hold, Gentlemen, let me decide this Affair; I'll ſend him a packing I'll warrant ye, an impudent Fop!

Sir, tho' I had not the Pleaſure of an earlier Ac⯑quaintance with you, I don't know how it is, I muſt confeſs I like you, your Manner has ſomething ſo engaging, that I find I ſhall be Fool enough to grow fond of you. I cou'd not take it ill, ſhould you doubt my Sincerity, but if this Purſe, juſt given me by your Rival, can convince you I'm in earneſt, I beg you to make Uſe on't, and an Hour hence I'll expect you; we'll laugh at all ſuch Coxcombs as this is, and ſacrifice an Hour or two to our mutual Satisfaction.

Curſe me, my Dear, but you have [25]the moſt adroit Way of making a Preſent! Sir, Monſieur, you had as good march off, for on my Soul, 'tis only Time loſt, the Lady bids me tell you ſo; I have done her Buſineſs, Sir, ſhe doats on me, dies for me, & vous etes un Malhereaux, as a Proof of the poor Crea⯑ture's Fondneſs, this Bagatelle, this Trifle, you ſee, Sir, ſhe did me the Honour to preſent me with it from her own fair Hand, Sir.

The Jilt — Damnation! S'Death, you young Dog, do you make a Jeſt of me? Ouns, to loſe my Money, and my Miſtreſs too! Draw, Sir.

With all my Heart, Sir, yet, upon ſecond Thought, what if we divide Stakes in a more peaceable Manner; do you keep the Woman, Sir, and I'm ſatisfied to walk off with my Bargain.

Ah, Lord, Sir, we are ruin'd, we are undone, ſome Devil or other has directed your Father here, I met him juſt at the Threſhold, and ran back in ſuch Confuſion, I don't know whether I'm diſcover'd or not. This comes of intriguing, with a Pox to it! Unfortunate Jeremy Ply, what the Devil will become of thee? thou wer't certainly born to be hanged without Benefit of Clergy.

S'Death, my Father? you amaze me — how, how ſhall I eſcape?

Eſcape, Sir, 'tis impoſſible, he's here, Sir, I hear him on the Stairs, in the Name of all that's impudent, Sir, face him downright that he miſtakes you; perſuade him out of his Senſes, and let us make a Retreat as decently as we can; he has not ſeen you this long Time, Sir, and may be eaſily impoſed on; I'll hide behind this Screen; for if he ſees me, all's over.

My Keeper!

'Tis he, by Heaven! my own natural Father.

Hey day! we have got Company here, fine Doings, rare Doings, by the Lord Harry! ah — ah — thou Crocodile, thou Meſſa⯑lina, have I found thee out, is it thus you employ yourſelf in my Abſence, thou Toad, thou Serpent, that I've nouriſh'd ſo long in my Boſom.

Indeed, and indeed now, you muſt not be jealous, Dear, theſe are only ſome Couſins from the Country, Dear, no-body elſe indeed! come buſs thy own Kitty.

Couſins; ah Couſins, with a Ven⯑geance! you have couſin'd me to ſome Pur⯑poſe, truly. Pray, little Gentleman, may I [27]make bold to aſk, who, or what you are?

A Rake, rat me.

And your Buſineſs here?

To lye with that Lady. Nothing elſe on my Soul, Sir.

Very conciſe truly. And you Sir? ah — may I believe my Eyes, roguery upon roguery! I ſhall run diſtracted! ah thou Re⯑probate; look me full in the Face, Sir, and tell me what Buſineſs you have in London, and what is become of the Money I ſent you by your Rogue of a Servant, this Evening. Why don't you ſpeak, Sirrah, how his Guilt con⯑founds him!

S'Death, what do you mean old Gen⯑tleman? for Damn me if I can underſtand one Syllable of all this.

What's this? what's this? your Worſhip won't vouchſafe to know me then; oh Impudence unparallel'd! with Submiſſion, Sir, is not your Name Robert Willmore, edu⯑cated theſe three Years at Oxford, who fought a Duel the other Day, kill'd your Man, and ſent an honeſt Valet de Chambre you keep, in Poſt-haſte to London, to cozen a good old fooliſh Knight, who has the Honour to be your Father, to cheat him, and bambouzle him out of twenty good Pieces of Gold, which he [28]fooliſhly, very fooliſhly ſent by the aforeſaid honeſt Valet not an Hour ago: Pray, Sir, are you this worthy Gentleman or not?

Ha, ha, ha! diſtracted by all that's Lunatick, quite beſide himſelf! however, to humour your Frenzy, my queer old Fellow, Curſe me if I've the leaſt Knowledge of the Gentleman you talk of, or his honeſt Valet, or the fooliſh old Knight his Father, if I have, Damn me.

How, how, do I doat, am I aſleep, or diſtracted, or have you loſt your Senſes Bob, and don't know your own natural Father?

And for a College Education, I'm a Beau, Sir; and of Conſequence a profeſs'd Enemy to all kind of Learning, unleſs it be the Manage of the Snuff Box, or the je ne ſcay quoi of the Rigadoon.

This is an extraordinary Piece of Humour, o'my Conſcience.

My Name is Careleſs, Sir, commonly call'd Beau Careleſs, by all the Tavern and Coffee-Waiters in and about London! ha, ha, ha, kill'd his Man, you don't know me, Sir, I find you don't know me; ha, ha, ha.

Can I be miſtaken — I muſt — and yet I could have ſworn 'twas Bob; his very Shape and Phyſiognomy, his very outſide in⯑deed, [29]but for the inſide, thank Heaven, 'tis quite different.

Come, Sir, I can ſee you no longer impoſed on: Be ſatisfied this Gentleman is no other than your Son, educated as you ſaid at Oxford, and now come up incog to London; becauſe 'tis here he expects to find a larger Variety of Pleaſures. I know not what you mean by his Duel, and killing his Man, but am aſſured, Sir, 'tis all a Fable, and I believe I can produce the Author, at leaſt the Manager of this, and all his other Extravagance, do you know this Face, Sir?

You are to be met I ſuppoſe, Sir, I ſhall find a Time.

Damn your Time, Sir; or will you let this honeſt Gentleman impoſe on you as your dutiful Son has done? if you'll believe him, Sir, I'll engage he'll tell you he is not the Rogue you take him for, but a Perſon of ſome Conſequence, and Honeſty. Pray, Sir, are you a Beau too, and by what Name is your Honour diſtinguiſh'd amongſt the Tavern and Coffee Waiters, in and about London? ha, ha, ha.

Really, Sir, I do ſeem Guilty, I con⯑feſs I do, but if I am not as innocent, and as much impoſed on as yourſelf, may I be [30]condemned to the Service of ſome half fa⯑miſh'd Lawyer, never more to know the dear Pleaſures of Board-wages, but keep an eternal Lent upon ſour ſmall Beer and Parch⯑ment.

Why, Sir! are you ſo Mad to be⯑lieve this?

Raſcal, what can you ſay for yourſelf? he ſhall ſwing, by the Lord Harry.

I ſpy'd this Gentleman here, this wonderful Likeneſs of my young Maſter, juſt turning a Corner of the Street, Sir, as I parted from your Worſhip, you may very well think I was ſurpriſed, Sir; yes, Sir, my very Hair ſtood an End, I'll aſſure you.

Sirrah, thou art an Original of Im⯑pudence.

However, Sir, I pluck'd up my Spi⯑rits, and follow'd him (as I thought, unper⯑ceived) into this very Chamber, where I was ſoon convinced of my Miſtake, for upon a nearer Examination, they are not like one another at all, the Voice, Sir, immediately undeceives one, and ſo I was ſneaking away when your Honour came in, quite aſhamed, Sir, for making ſo ridiculous a Blunder.

'Tis in vain, Sir, to. make Apolo⯑gies; I throw myſelf at your Feet. Can you forgive a Son whom Youth, and a Vivacity [31]of Sentiments have led aſtray? my future Conduct ſhall never give you Occaſion to repent your Indulgence.

Diſtracted by all that's Lunatick, quite beſide himſelf.

Will you, Sir? can you be Deaf to my Repentance?

My Name is Careleſs, Sir, com⯑monly call'd Beau Careleſs! you don't know me, Sir, I find you don't know me, ha, ha, ha.

Riſe, Mr. Willmore, Folly in you may be excuſable; but how monſtrous does it ap⯑pear on the venerable Shoulders of threeſcore! Theſe are pretty Lodgings, Sir William, and your Choice in a Play-Fellow no Diſgrace to your Judgment, had you been one forty Years younger. Come, come, Sir, take your Son immediately into Favour, or your ſcandalous Intrigue here ſhall be made the Sport of the whole Town. Nay, Sir, I'll poſt up your Character in all the publick Coffee-Houſes; I'll make you ridiculous to ſuch a Degree, that all the World ſhall point at you — I will, Sir, Damn me.

This is a wonderful Spark truly, he certainly deals with the Devil, for he knows every Body, and has a Finger in every Body's Buſineſs.

For you, Madam, I'll take upon me in Sir William's Name to diſcharge you; you ſee he has found you out; here is a Purſe you vouchſafed to honour me with, take it, Ma⯑dam, I'm not for your Purpoſe; and, but that I'm certain you'd laugh at my Advice, I'd deſire you to be honeſt. Your Lodging ſhall be diſcharged, look out for freſh ones as ſoon as poſſible. And now Mr. Willmore, what do you think of me?

That you are the moſt extraordinary Perſon I ever met in my Life.

Look me full in the Face; do you ſee nothing there to make you tremble?

Hah — by all my Hopes 'tis ſhe! 'tis Charlott — dull Coxcomb that I was, I'm con⯑founded.

Courage, Mr. Willmore, you ſee what unaccountable Creatures we Women are; while I had you in my Power, I uſed you as ill as I could, and for no other Reaſon that I can tell, but becauſe you were in my Power, and ſince I have gone ſo far, it muſt all out: When I heard you had left Oxford, I muſt own I was quite deſperate; and after mak⯑ing and unmaking a thouſand Reſolutions, I contrived to ſteal away the Writings of my Fortune, which my Guardian refuſed to give up to me, and thus accoutred, purſued you to [33] London. Now, if my Frolick has not made you think light of me, and if my Hand that gives thoſe Papers to your Protection can give you any farther Pleaſure, my Heart is yours.

Dear, dear Creature! Exceſs of Joy tranſports me, 'tis you, Sir, muſt confirm my Happineſs.

By the Lord Harry, I believe I'm diſtracted in earneſt.

My Name, Sir, is Charlott Lovely, Daughter and Heireſs of Sir William Lovely deceaſed: I'm now of Age, and of conſe⯑quence my own Miſtreſs, which Title with Pleaſure I give up in Favour of your Son; if you approve of our Union, Sir, confirm it by taking us to your Arms.

Egad thou'rt a mettled Girl, and I wiſh I were young for thy Sake: Well Bob, we muſt forgive one another, I've been an old Fool, and you, a young one. Your Fa⯑ther, Madam, was my intimate Friend, and had he lived, Nothing could have pleaſed him better than uniting our Families, ſo, Heaven bleſs ye together.

Huzza! a Jubilee, a Jubilee!

Jeremy here has been a ſad Dog, but as Things have happened, I can't be [34]angry; well Jeremy, what do you think of a Wife, ſhall I make your Fortune you Dog? Mrs. Kitty here, with a little looking after, may make an excellent Houſe-Wife; and I'll throw you a Brace of Hundreds into the Bargain. Nay Sirrah, you need not look ſo Arch, for 'twill be your own Fault if you don't keep her all to yourſelf.

With your Leave, Sir, we'll all ad⯑journ to your Houſe, where every Thing may be compleated with Satisfaction; and now my Charmer