SCENE I.-A Room in UNCLE RICHARD'S

House.

Enter UNCLE RICHARD.

Unc. Rich. What prudent cares does this deep foreseeing nation take for the support of its worshipful families! In order to which, and that they may not fail to be always significant and useful in their country, it is a settled foundation-point that every child that is born shall be a beggar, except one; and that he-shall be a fool. My grandfather was bred a fool, as the country report; my father was a fool, as my mother used to say; my brother was a fool, to my own knowledge, though a great justice of the peace; and he has left a son that will make his son a fool, or I am mistaken. The lad is now fourteen years old, and but just out of his Psalter. As to his honoured father, my muchesteemed nephew-here I have him.-[Takes out a letter.] In this profound epistle (which I have just now received) there is the top and bottom of him. Forty years and two is the age of him; in which it is computed, by his butler, his own person has drank two-and-thirty tun of ale. The rest of his time has been employed in persecuting all the poor four-legged creatures round that would but run away fast enough from him, to give him the high-mettled pleasure of running after them. In this noble employ he has broke his right arm, his

left leg, and both his collar-bones. Once he broke his neck, but that did him no harm; a nimble hedge-leaper, a brother of the stirrup, that was by, whipped off his horse and mended it. His estate being left him with two jointures and three weighty mortgages upon it, he, to make all easy, and pay his brother's and sister's portions, married a profuse young housewife for love, with never a penny of money. Having done all this, like his brave ancestors, for the support of the family, he now finds children and interest-money make such a bawling about his ears, that he has taken the friendly advice of his neighbour, the good lord Courtlove, to run his estate two thousand pounds more in debt, that he may retrieve his affairs by being a parliament-man, and bringing his wife to London to play off a hundred pounds at dice with ladies of quality before breakfast. But let me read this wiseacre's letter once over again.-[Reads.] Most honoured uncle, I do not doubt but you have much rejoiced at my success in my election. It has cost me some money, I own; but what of all that! I am a parliament-man, and that will set all to rights. I have lived in the country all my days, 'tis true; but what then! I have made speeches at the sessions, and in the vestry too, and can elsewhere, perhaps, as well as some others that do; and I have a noble friend hard by, who has let me into some small knowledge of what's what at West

John. I humbly thank your worship. I'm staut still, and a faithful awd servant to th' family. Heaven prosper aw that belong to't.

Unc. Rich. What, they are all upon the road? John. As mony as the awd coach would hauld, sir the Lord send 'em well to tawn.

Unc. Rich. And well out on't again, John, ha! John. Ah, sir! you are a wise man, so am I : home's home, I say. I wish we get any good here. I's sure we ha' got little upo' the road. Some mischief or other aw the day long. Slap! goes one thing, crack! goes another; my lady cries out for driving fast; the awd cattle are for going slow; Roger whips, they stand still and kick; nothing but a sort of a contradiction aw the journey long. My lady would gladly have been here last night, sir, though there were no lodgings got; but her ladyship said, she did naw care for that, she'd lie in the inn where the horses stood, as long as it was in London.

Unc. Rich. These ladies, these ladies, John !— John. Ah, sir, I have seen a little of 'em, though not so much as my betters. Your worship is naw married yet?

Unc. Rich. No, John, no; I am an old bachelor still.

John. Heavens bless you, and preserve you, sir. Unc. Rich. I think you have lost your good woman, John?

John. No, sir, that have I not; Bridget sticks to me still, sir. She was for coming to London too, but, no, says I, there may be mischief enough done without you.

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

John. Sir, were my measter but hafe the mon that I am, gadswookers-though he'll speak stautly too sometimes, but then he canno hawd it; no, he canno hawd it.

Enter DEBORAH.

Deb. Mr. Moody, Mr. Moody, here's the coach

come.

John. Already! no sure.

Deb. Yes, yes, it's at the door, they are getting out; my mistress is run to receive 'em.

John. And so will I, as in duty bound.

[Exit with DEBORAH.

Unc. Rich. And I will stay here, not being in duty bound to do the honours of this house.

Enter Sir FRANCIS HEADPIECE, Lady HEADPIECE, 'Squire HUMPHRY, Miss BETTY, Mrs. HANDY, JOHN MOODY, and Mrs. MOTHERLY.

Lady Head. Do you hear, Moody, let all the things be first laid down here, and then carried where they'll be used.

John. They shall, an't please your ladyship. Lady Head. What, my Uncle Richard here to receive us! This is kind indeed: sir, I am extremely glad to see you.

Unc. Rich. [Salutes her.] Niece, your servant. -[Aside.] I am extremely sorry to see you in the worst place I know in the world for a good woman to grow better in.-[Aloud.] Nephew, I am your servant too; but I don't know how to bid you welcome.

Sir Fran. I am sorry for that, sir.

Unc. Rich. Nay, 'tis for your own sake: I'm not concerned.

Sir Fran. I hope, uncle, I shall give you such

weighty reasons for what I have done, as shall convince you I am a prudent man.

Unc. Rich. That wilt thou never convince me of, whilst thou shalt live. [Aside. Sir Fran. Here, Humphry, come up to your uncle.-Sir, this is your godson.

Squire Hum. Honoured uncle and godfather, I crave leave to ask your blessing. [Kneels.

Unc. Rich. [Aside.] Thou art a numskull I see already. [Puts his hand on his head.] There, thou hast it. And if it will do thee any good, may it be to make thee, at least, as wise a man as thy father.

Lady Head. Miss Betty, don't you see your Uncle ?

Unc. Rich. And for thee, my dear, mayst thou be, at least, as good a woman as thy mother. Miss Bet. I wish I may ever be so handsome,

sir.

Unc. Rich. Ha! Miss Pert! now that's a thought that seems to have been hatched in the girl on this side Highgate. [Aside.

Sir Fran. Her tongue is a little nimble, sir. Lady Head. That's only from her country education, sir Francis, she has been kept there too long; I therefore brought her to London, sir, to learn more reserve and modesty.

Unc. Rich. Oh, the best place in the world for it! Every woman she meets will teach her something of it. There's the good gentlewoman of the house looks like a knowing person, even she perhaps will be so good to read her a lesson, now and then, upon that subject.-[Aside.] An arrant bawd, or I have no skill in physiognomy!

Mrs. Moth. Alas, sir, miss won't stand long in need of my poor instructions; if she does, they'll be always at her service.

Lady Head. Very obliging indeed, Mrs. Motherly. Sir Fran. Very kind and civil truly; I believe we are got into a mighty good house here.

Unc. Rich. [Aside.] For good business very probable.-[Aloud.] Well, niece, your servant for to-night; you have a great deal of affairs upon your hands here, so I won't hinder you.

Lady Head. I believe, sir, I shan't have much less every day, while I stay in this town, of one sort or other.

Unc. Rich. Why, 'tis a town of much action indeed.

Miss Bet. And my mother did not come to it to be idle, sir.

Unc. Rich. Nor you neither, I dare say, young mistress.

Miss Bet. I hope not, sir.

Unc. Rich. Um! miss Mettle.-[Going, Sir FRANCIS following him.] Where are you going, nephew?

Sir Fran. Only to attend you to the door, sir. Unc. Rich. Phu! no ceremony with me; you'll find I shall use none with you or your family. Sir Fran. I must do as you command me, sir. [Exit UNCLE RICHARD. Miss Bet. This uncle Richard, papa, seems but a crusty sort of an old fellow.

Sir Fran. He is a little odd, child; but you must be very civil to him, for he has a great deal of money, and nobody knows who he may give it to.

Lady Head. Phu, a fig for his money! you have so many projects of late about money, since you are a parliament-man, we must make ourselves

slaves to his testy humours, seven years perhaps, in hopes to be his heirs; and then he'll be just old enough to marry his maid.-But pray let us take care of our things here: are they all brought in yet? Mrs. Hand. Almost, my lady; there are only some of the bandboxes behind, and a few odd things.

Lady Head. Let 'em be fetched in presently. Mrs. Hand. They are here.-Come, bring the things in.

Is there all yet?

Enter Servant.

Lady Head. Pray, good sir Francis, he has been constantly eating in the coach, and out of the coach, above seven hours this day. I wish my poor girl could eat a quarter as much.

Miss Bet. Mama, I could eat a good deal more than I do, but then I should grow fat mayhap, like him, and spoil my shape.

Lady Head. Mrs. Motherly, will you be so kind to tell them where they shall carry the things ?

Mrs. Moth. Madam, I'll do the best I can: I doubt our closets will scarce hold 'em all, but we have garrets and cellars, which, with the help of

Sir Fran. The goose-pye gone? how?

Doll. Why, sir, I had got it fast under my arm to bring it in, but being almost dark, up comes two of these thin starved London rogues, one gives me a great kick o' the-here; [Laying her hand upon her backside.] while t'other hungry varlet twitched the dear pye out of my hands, and away they run dawn street like two greyhounds. I cried out fire! but heavy George and fat Tom are after 'em with a vengeance; they'll sauce their jackets for 'em,

I'll warrant 'em.

Enter GEORGE with a bloody face, and TOM. So, have you catched 'em?

George. Catched em! the gallows catch 'em for me! I had naw run hafe the length of our bearn, before somewhat fetched me such a wherry across the shins, that dawn came I flop o' my feace all along in the channel, and thought I should ne'er ha' gotten up again; but Tom has skaward after them, and cried murder as he'd been stuck.

Tom. Yes, and straight upo' that, swap comes somewhat across my forehead, with such a force, that dawn came I like an ox.

Squire Hum. So, the poor pye's quite gone then! Tom. Gone, young measter! yeaten I believe by this time. These I suppose are what they call sharpers in this country.

Squire Hum. It was a rare good pye. Doll. As e'er these hands put pepper to. Lady Head. Pray Mrs. Motherly, do they make a practice of these things often here?

Mrs. Moth. Madam, they'll twitch a rump of beef out of a boiling copper; and for a silver tankard, they make no more conscience of that, than if it were a Tunbridge sugar-box.

Sir Fran. I wish the coach and horses, George, were safe got to the inn. Do you and Roger take special care that nobody runs away with them, as you go thither.

George. I believe, sir, our cattle woant yeasily be run away with to-night; but weest take best care we con of them, poor sauls! [Exit.

Sir Fran. Do so,'pray now. Squire Hum. Feather, I had rather they had run away with heavy George than the goose-pye, a slice of it before supper to night would have been pure.

Lady Head. This boy is always thinking of his belly.

Sir Fran. But, my dear, you may allow him to be a little hungry after a journey.

Sir, will you be so good to help my maids a little in carrying away the things?

Tom. With all my heart, forsooth, if I con but see my way; but these whoresons have awmost knocked my eyen awt. [They carry off the things.

Mrs. Moth. Will your ladyship please to refresh yourself with a dish of tea, after your fatigue? I think I have pretty good.

Lady Head. If you please, Mrs. Motherly. [Exit Mrs. MOTHERLY. Squire Hum. Would not a good tankard of strong beer, nutmeg, and sugar, do better, feather, with a toast and some cheese?

Sir Fran. I think it would, son.-Here, John Moody, get us a tankard of good hearty stuff presently.

John. Sir, here's Norfolk-nog to be had at next door.

Squire Hum. That's best of all, feather; but make haste with it, John. [Exit JOHN MOODY. Lady Head. Well, I wonder, Sir Francis, you will encourage that lad to swill his guts thus with such beastly, lubberly liquor: if it were burgundy, or champagne, something might be said for't; they'd perhaps give him some wit and spirit; but such heavy, muddy stuff as this will make him quite stupid.

Sir Fran. Why you know, my dear, I have drank good ale and strong beer these thirty years, and by your permission I don't know that I want wit.

Miss Bet. But you might have had more, papa, if you had been governed by my mother.

Re-enter JOHN MOODY, with a tankard, &c. Sir Fran. Daughter, he that is governed by his wife, has no wit at all.

Miss Bet. Then I hope I shall marry a fool, father, for I shall love to govern dearly.

Sir Fran. Here, Humphry, here's to thee.[Drinks.] You are too pert, child, it don't do well in a young woman.

Lady Head. Pray, sir Francis, don't snub her, she has a fine growing spirit, and if you check her so, you'll make her as dull as her brother there. Squire Hum. Indeed, mother, I think my sister is too forward. [After drinking a long draught. Miss Bet. You, you think I'm too forward! what have you to do to think, brother Heavy? you are too fat to think of anything but your belly. Lady Head. Well said, miss; he's none of your master, though he's your elder brother.

Re-enter GEORGE.

George. Sir, I have no good opinion of this tawne, it's made up of mischief, I think.

Sir Fran. Why, what's the matter now? George. I'se tell your worship; before we were gotten to the street end, a great luggerheaded cart,