_John Moody._ Ah, Sir, I have seen a little of 'em, tho' not so much as
my betters. Your worship is naw married yet?
Unc. _Rich._ No, _John_ no; I am an old batchelor still.
_John Moody._ Heav'ns bless you and preserve you, Sir.
Unc. _Rich._ I think you have lost your good woman, John!
_John Moody._ No, sir, that I have 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 Moody._ Sir, were my measter but haf the mon that I am,
Gadswookers----tho' he'll speak stautly too sometimes, but then he
canno hawd it; no, he canno hawd it.
_Enter Maid._
_Maid._ Mr. _Moody_, Mr. _Moody_, here's the coach come.
_John Moody._ Already? no, sure.
_Maid._ Yes, yes, it's at the door, they are getting out; my mistress
is run to receive them.
_John Moody._ And so will I as in duty bound.
[_Exeunt ~John~ and maid._
Unc. _Rich._ And I will stay here, not being in duty bound to do the
honours of this house.
_Enter Sir ~Francis~, Lady, 'Squire ~Humphry~, Mrs. ~Betty~,
Mrs. ~Handy~, ~Doll Tripe~, ~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 Moody._ 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._ Niece, your servant. [_Salutes her._] I am extremely sorry
to see you, in the worst place I know in the world for a good woman to
grow better in. 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 concern'd.
Sir _Fran._ I hope, uncle, I shall give you such weighty reasons for
what I've done, as shall convince you I'm 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 _Humph._ Honour'd uncle and godfather; I creave leave to ask
your blessing.
[_Kneels._
Unc. _Rich._ Thou art a numbscull I see already.
[Aside.
There thou hast it. [_Puts his hand on his head._] 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, may'st thou be, at least, as good a
woman as thy mother.
Miss _Betty._ I wish I may ever be so handsome, Sir.
Unc. _Rich._ Ha! Miss Pert! now that's a thought that seems to have
been hatch'd 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._ O! 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, ev'n she perhaps will be so
good to read her a lesson, now and then, upon that subject. An arrant
bawd, or I have no skill in physiognomy.
[_Aside._
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._ For good business, very probable.
[_Aside._
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 _Betty._ And my mother did not come to it to be idle, Sir.
Unc. _Rich._ Nor you neither, I dare say, young mistress.
Miss _Betty._ 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.
[_Exit._
Sir _Fran._ I must do as you command me, Sir.
Miss _Petty._ 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. _Han._ Almost, my lady, there are only some of the band-boxes
behind, and a few odd things.
Lady _Head._ Let 'em be fetcht in presently.
Mrs. _Han._ They are here; come bring the things in: Is there all yet?
_Serv._ All but the great basket of apples and the goose-pye.
_Enter ~Cookmaid~._
_Cook._ Ah my Lady! we're aw undone, the goose-pye's gwon.
_All._ Gone?
Sir _Fran._ The goose-pye gone? how?
_Cook._ Why, Sir, I had got it fast under my arm to bring it in, but
being almost dark, up comes two of these thin starv'd _London_ rogues,
one gives me a great kick o' the----here; [_Laying her hand upon her
backside._] while t'other hungry varlet twitch'd the dear pye out
of my hands, and away they run dawn street like two grayhounds. I
cry'd 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 catch'd 'em?
_Geo._ Catch'd 'em! the gallows catch 'em for me. I had naw run half
the length of our beam, before somewhat fetch me such a wherry across
the shins, that dawn came I flop o' my face all along in the channel,
and thought I shou'd ne'er ha gotten up again; but _Tom_ has skawar'd
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 _Humph._ 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 _Humph._ It was a rare good pye.
_Cook._ 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 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.
_Geo._ I believe, Sir, our cattle won't yeasily be run away with
to-night; but wee'st take best care we con of them, poor sauls!
[_Exit._
Sir _Fran._ Do so, pray now.
Squire _Humph._ 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.
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 _Betty._ 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 hiring a store-room, I hope may do. Sir, will you be so good to
help my maids a little in carrying away the things.
[_To ~Tom~._
_Tom._ With all my heart, forsooth, if I con but see my way; but these
whoresons have awmost knockt 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_.
Squire _Humph._ 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 heavy stuff presently.
_John Moody._ Sir, here's _Norfolk Nog_ to be had next door.
Squire _Humph._ That's best of all, feather; but make haste with it,
_John_.
[_Exit ~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 _Champain_, 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 Betty._ But I think you might have more papa, if you'd have been
govern'd by my mother.
_Enter ~John Moody~ with a tankard._
Sir _Fran._ Daughter, he that is govern'd by his wife, has no wit at
all.
Miss _Betty._ 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 _Humph._ Indeed Mother, I think my sister is too forward.
[_After drinking a long draught._
Miss _Betty._ You? you think I'm too forward? what have you to do to
think, brother Heavy? you are too fat to think of any thing but your
belly.
Lady _Head._ Well said, Miss; he's none of your master, tho' he's your
elder brother.
_Enter ~George~._
_Geo._ Sir, I have no good opinion of this tawn, it's made up of
mischief, I think.
Sir _Fran._ Why, what's the matter now?
_Geo._ I'se tell your worship; before we were gotten to the street-end,
a great lugger-headed cart, with wheels as thick as a good brick
wall, layd hawld of the coach, and has pood it aw to bits: an this be
_London_, wo'd we were all weel i' th' country again.
Miss _Betty._ What have you to do, Sir, to wish us all in the country
again, lubber? I hope we shan't go into the country again these seven
years, Mama, let twenty coaches be pull'd to pieces.
Sir _Fran._ Hold your tongue, _Betty_. Was _Roger_ in no fault of this?
_Geo._ No, Sir, nor I neither. Are you not asham'd, says _Roger_ to
the carter, to do such an unkind thing to strangers? No, says he, you
bumkin. Sir, he did the thing on very purpose, and so the folks said
that stood by; but they said your worship need na be concerned, for you
might have a law-suit with him when you pleas'd, that wou'd not cost
you above a hundred pounds, and mayhap you might get the better of him.