_Moth._ Humph! there may be sense in that----
Count _Bas._ Very good----One for t'other then; if I can help her to a
husband, why should not you come into my scheme of helping me to a wife?
_Moth._ Your pardon, Sir! ay! ay! in an honourable affair, you know you
may command me----but pray where is this blessed wife and husband to be
had?
Count _Bas._ Now have a little patience----You must know then, this
country Knight, and his lady, bring up, in the coach with them, their
eldest son and a daughter, to teach them to----wash their faces, and
turn their toes out.
_Moth._ Good!
Count _Bas._ The son is an unlick'd whelp, about sixteen, just taken
from school; and begins to hanker after every wench in the family: The
daughter much of the same age, a pert, forward hussy, who having eight
thousand pound left her by an old doating grandmother, seems to have a
devilish mind to be doing in her way too.
_Moth._ And your design is to put her into business for life?
Count _Bas._ Look you, in short, Mrs. _Motherly_, we gentlemen whose
occasional chariots roll, only, upon the four aces, are liable
sometimes you know, to have a wheel out of order: Which, I confess, is
so much my case at present, that my dapple greys are reduced to a pair
of ambling chairmen: Now, if with your assistance, I can whip up this
young jade into a hackney-coach, I may chance, in a day or two after,
to carry her in my own chariot _en famille_, to an opera. Now what do
you say to me?
_Moth._ Why, I shall not sleep--for thinking of it. But how will you
prevent the family's smoaking your design?
Count _Bas._ By renewing my addresses to the mother.
_Moth._ And how will the daughter like that, think you?
Count _Bas._ Very well----whilst it covers her own affair.
_Moth._ That's true----it must do----but, as you say, one for t'other,
Sir, I stick to that--if you don't do my niece's business with the son,
I'll blow you with the daughter, depend upon't.
Count _Bas._ It's a bett--pay as we go, I tell you, and the five
hundred shall be staked in a third hand.
_Moth._ That's honest----But here comes my niece! shall we let her into
the secret?
Count _Bas._ Time enough! may be I may touch upon it.
_Enter ~Myrtilla~._
_Moth._ So, niece, are all the rooms done out, and the beds sheeted?
_Myr._ Yes, Madam, but Mr. _Moody_ tells us the lady always burns wax,
in her own chamber, and we have none in the house.
_Moth._ Odso! then I must beg your pardon, Count; this is a busy time,
you know.
[_Exit Mrs. ~Motherly~._
Count _Bas._ _Myrtilla_! how dost do, child?
_Myr._ As well as a losing gamester can.
Count _Bas._ Why, what have you lost?
_Myr._ What I shall never recover; and what's worse, you that have won
it, don't seem to be much the better for't.
Count _Bas._ Why child, dost thou ever see any body overjoyed for
winning a deep stake, six months after 'tis over?
_Myr._ Would I had never play'd for it!
Count _Bas._ Psha! Hang these melancholy thoughts; we may be friends
still.
_Myr._ Dull ones.
Count _Bas._ Useful ones perhaps----suppose I should help thee to a
good husband?
_Myr._ I suppose you think any one good enough that will take me off
your hands.
Count _Bas._ What do you think of the young country 'Squire, the heir
of the family, that's coming to lodge here?
_Myr._ How should I know what to think of him?
Count _Bas._ Nay, I only give you the hint, child; it may be worth your
while, at least, to look about you--Hark! what bustle's that without.
_Enter Mrs. ~Motherly~ in haste._
_Moth._ Sir! Sir! the gentleman's coach is at the door! they are all
come!
Count _Bas._ What, already?
_Moth._ They are just getting out!----won't you step and lead in my
Lady? Do you be in the way, Niece! I must run and receive them.
[_Exit Mrs. ~Motherly~._
Count _Bas._ And think of what I told you.
[_Exit ~Count~._
_Myr._ Ay! ay! you have left me enough to think of, as long as I
live----a faithless fellow! I'm sure I have been true to him; and for
that very reason, he wants to be rid of me: But while women are weak,
men will be rogues! And for a bane to both their joys and ours; when
our vanity indulges them, in such innocent favours as make them adore
us; we can never be well, 'till we grant them the very one, that puts
an end to their devotion--But here comes my aunt, and the company.
_Mrs. ~Motherly~ returns shewing in Lady ~Wronghead~,
led by Count ~Basset~._
_Moth._ If your Ladyship pleases to walk into this parlour, Madam, only
for the present, 'till your servants have got all your things in.
Lady _Wrong._ Well! dear Sir, this is so infinitely obliging!--I
protest it gives me pain tho' to turn you out of your lodging thus!
Count _Bas._ No trouble in the least, Madam; we single fellows are soon
mov'd; besides, Mrs. _Motherly_'s my old acquaintance, and I could not
be her hindrance.
_Moth._ The Count is so well bred, Madam, I dare say he would do a
great deal more, to accommodate your Ladyship.
Lady _Wrong._ O dear Madam!----A good well bred sort of woman.
[_Apart to the ~Count~._
Count _Bas._ O Madam, she is very much among people of quality, she is
seldom without them, in her house.
Lady _Wrong._ Are there a good many people of quality in this street,
Mrs. _Motherly_?
_Moth._ Now your Ladyship is here, Madam, I don't believe there is a
house without them.
Lady _Wrong._ I am mighty glad of that: for really I think people of
quality should always live among one another.
Count _Bas._ 'Tis what one would choose indeed, Madam.
Lady _Wrong._ Bless me! but where are the children all this while?
_Moth._ Sir _Francis_, Madam, I believe is taking care of them.
Sir _Fran._ [_Within._] _John Moody_! stay you by the coach, and see
all our things out--Come, children.
_Moth._ Here they are, Madam.
_Enter Sir ~Francis~, Squire ~Richard~, and Miss ~Jenny~._
Sir _Fran._ Well, Count! I mun say it, this was koynd, indeed!
Count _Bas._ Sir _Francis_! give me leave to bid you welcome to
_London_.
Sir _Fran._ Psha! how dost do, mon----waunds, I'm glad to see thee! A
good sort of a house this!
Count _Bas._ Is not that master _Richard_?
Sir _Fran._ Ey! ey! that's young hopeful----why dost not baw, _Dick_?
Squ. _Rich._ So I do, feyther.
Count _Bas._ Sir I'm glad to see you----I protest Mrs. _Jane_ is grown
so, I should not have known her.
Sir _Fran._ Come forward, _Jenny_.
_Jenny._ Sure, papa, do you think I don't know how to behave myself?
Count _Bas._ If I have permission to approach her, Sir _Francis_.
_Jenny._ Lord, Sir, I'm in such a frightful pickle----
[_Salute._
Count _Bas._ Every dress that's proper must become you, Madam,----you
have been a long journey.
_Jenny._ I hope you will see me in a better, to-morrow, Sir.
[_Lady ~Wrong.~ whispers Mrs. ~Moth.~ pointing to ~Myrtilla~._
_Moth._ Only a niece of mine, Madam, that lives with me: she will be
proud to give your Ladyship any assistance in her power.
Lady _Wrong._ A pretty sort of a woman.----_Jenny_, you two must be
acquainted.
_Jenny._ O, Mama! I am never strange, in a strange place!
[_Salutes ~Myrtilla~._
_Myr._ You do me a great deal of honour, Madam----Madam, your
Ladyship's welcome to _London_.
_Jenny._ Mama! I like her prodigiously! she call'd me my Ladyship.
Squ. _Rich._ Pray mother, mayn't I be acquainted with her too!
Lady _Wrong._ You, you clown! stay 'till you learn a little more
breeding first.
Sir _Fran._ Od's heart! my Lady _Wronghead_! why do you balk the lad?
how should he ever learn breeding, if he does not put himself forward?
Squ. _Rich._ Why ay, feather, does moather think 'at I'd be uncivil to
her?
_Myr._ Master has so much good-humour, Madam, he would soon gain upon
any body.
[_He kisses ~Myr~._
Squ. _Rich._ Lo' you there, Moather: and you would but be quiet, she
and I should do well enough.
Lady _Wrong._ Why, how now, sirrah! Boys must not be so familiar.
Squ. _Rich._ Why, an' I know nobody, haw the murrain mun I pass my time
here, in a strange place? Naw you and I and sister, forsooth, sometimes
in an afternoon moy play at one and thirty bone-ace, purely.
_Jenny._ Speak for yourself, Sir! D'ye think I play at such clownish
games?
Squ. _Rich._ Why and you woant yo' ma' let it aloane; then she, and I,
mayhap, will have a bawt at All-fours, without you.
Sir _Fran._ Noa! Noa! _Dick_, that won't do neither; you mun learn to
make one at Ombre, here, Child.
_Myr._ If Master pleases, I'll shew it him.
Squ. _Rich._ What! the _Humber_! Hoy day! why does our River run to
this Tawn, Feather?
Sir _Fran._ Pooh! you silly Tony! Ombre is a geam at cards, that the
better sort of people play three together at.
Squ. _Rich._ Nay the moare the merrier, I say; but Sister is always so
cross grain'd----
_Jenny._ Lord! this Boy is enough to deaf people----and one has really
been stuft up in a Coach so long, that----Pray Madam----could not I
get a little powder for my hair?
_Myr._ If you please to come along with me, Madam.
[_Exeunt ~Myr.~ and ~Jenny~._
Squ. _Rich._ What, has Sister ta'en her away naw! mess, I'll go and
have a little game with 'em.
[_Ex. after them._
Lady _Wrong._ Well, Count, I hope you won't so far change your
lodgings, but you will come, and be at home here sometimes?
Sir _Fran._ Ay, ay! pr'ythee come and take a bit of mutton with us, naw
and tan, when thouh'st nowght to do.
Count _Bas._ Well, Sir _Francis_, you shall find I'll make but very
little ceremony.
Sir _Fran._ Why ay naw, that's hearty!
_Moth._ Will your Ladyship please to refresh yourself, with a dish of
tea, after your fatigue? I think I have pretty good.
Lady _Wrong._ If you please, Mrs. _Motherly_; but I believe we had best
have it above stairs.
_Moth._ Very well, Madam: it shall be ready immediately.
[_Exit Mrs. ~Motherly~._
Lady _Wrong._ Won't you walk up, Sir?