_Enter_ TOM FASHION _and_ LORY.
_Fash_. So here's our inheritance, Lory, if we can but get
into possession. But methinks the seat of our family looks like
Noah's ark, as if the chief part on't were designed for the fowls
of the air, and the beasts of the field.
_Lory._ Pray, sir, don't let your head run upon the orders
of building here: get but the heiress, let the devil take the
house.
_Fash._ Get but the house, let the devil take the heiress! I
say.--But come, we have no time to squander; knock at the door.--
[LORY _knocks two or three times at the gate._] What the
devil! have they got no ears in this house?--Knock harder.
_Lory._ Egad, sir, this will prove some enchanted castle; we
shall have the giant come out by-and-by, with his club, and beat
our brains out. [_Knocks again._]
_Fash._ Hush, they come.
_Ser. [Within.]_ Who is there?
_Lory._ Open the door and see: is that your country
breeding?
_Ser._ Ay, but two words to that bargain.--Tummus, is the
blunderbuss primed?
_Fash._ Ouns! give 'em good words, Lory,--or we shall be
shot here a fortune catching.
_Lory._ Egad, sir, I think you're in the right on't.--Ho!
Mr. What-d'ye-call-'um, will you please to let us in? or are we
to be left to grow like willows by your moat side?
SERVANT _appears at the window with a blunderbuss._
_Ser._ Well naw, what's ya're business?
_Fash._ Nothing, sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with
your leave.
_Ser._ To weat upon Sir Tunbelly! why, you'll find that's
just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.
_Fash._ But will you do me the favour, sir, to know whether
Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?
_Ser._ Why, look you, d'ye see, with good words much may be
done. Ralph, go thy ways, and ask Sir Tunbelly if he pleases to
be waited upon--and dost hear, call to nurse, that she may lock
up Miss Hoyden before the gates open.
_Fash._ D'ye hear, that, Lory?
_Enter SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY, with SERVANTS, armed with guns,
clubs, pitchforks, &c_.
_Lory_. Oh! [_Runs behind his master_.] O Lord! O Lord!
Lord! we are both dead men!
_Fash_. Fool! thy fear will, ruin us. [_Aside to
LORY_.]
_Lory_. My fear, sir? 'sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing.--
[_Aside_.] Would I were well up to the chin in a horse-pond!
_Sir Tun_. Who is it here hath any business with me?
_Fash_. Sir, 'tis I, if your name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.
_Sir Tun_. Sir, my name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsy, whether you
have any business with me or not.--So you see I am not ashamed of
my name, nor my face either.
_Fash_. Sir, you have no cause that I know of.
_Sir Tun_. Sir, if you have no cause either, I desire to
know who you are; for, till I know your name, I shan't ask you to
come into my house: and when I do know your name,'tis six to four
I don't ask you then.
_Fash_. Sir, I hope you'll find this letter an authentic
passport. [_Gives him a letter_.]
_Sir Tun_. Cod's my life, from Mrs. Coupler!--I ask your
lordship's pardon ten thousand times.--[_To a SERVANT_.]
Here, run in a-doors quickly; get a Scotch coal fire in the
parlour, set all the Turkey work chairs in their places, get the
brass candlesticks out, and be sure stick the socket full of
laurel--run!--[_Turns to TOM FASHION_.]--My lord, I ask your
lordship's pardon.--[_To SERVANT_.] And, do you hear, run
away to nurse; bid her let Miss Hoyden loose again.--[_Exit
SERVANT_.] I hope your honour will excuse the disorder of my
family. We are not used to receive men of your lordship's great
quality every day. Pray, where are your coaches and servants, my
lord?
_Fash_. Sir, that I might give you and your daughter a proof
how impatient I am to be nearer akin to you, I left my equipage
to follow me, and came away post with only one servant.
_Sir Tun_. Your lordship does me too much honour--it was
exposing your person to too much fatigue and danger, I protest it
was: but my daughter shall endeavour to make you what amends she
can: and, though I say it that should not say it, Hoyden has
charms.
_Fash_. Sir, I am not a stranger to them, though I am to
her; common fame has done her justice.
_Sir Tun_. My lord, I am common fame's very grateful, humble
servant. My lord, my girl's young--Hoyden is young, my lord: but
this I must say for her, what she wants in art she has in
breeding; and what's wanting in her age, is made good in her
constitution.--So pray, my lord, walk in; pray, my lord, walk in.
_Fash_. Sir, I wait upon you. [_Exeunt_.]