_Enter_ SERJEANT CIRCUIT _and_ JACK.
SERJEANT.
Jack, let Will bring the chaise to the door.
JACK.
Mr. Fairplay, Sir, the attorney, begs to speak a few words.
SERJEANT.
How often have I told you, that I will see none of these sort of folks
but at chambers; you know how angry your mother is at their rapping,
and littering the house.
JACK.
He says, Sir, he will not detain you five minutes.
SERJEANT.
Well, bid him walk in.
_Enter_ FAIRPLAY.
Well, Mr. Fairplay, what's your will?
FAIRPLAY.
I just call'd, Mr. Serjeant, to know your opinion upon the case of
young Woodford, and if you like the proposal of being concern'd.
SERJEANT.
If it turns out as you state it, and that the father of the lad was
really a minor, the Essex estate may without doubt be recover'd; and so
may the lands in the North.
FAIRPLAY.
We have full proofs to that fact.
SERJEANT.
May be so; but really Mr. Fairplay, you know the length of time that
these kind of suits--
FAIRPLAY.
True Sir, but then your experience will shorten I appreh----
SERJEANT.
That's more than I know: and then not only my fees lying dormant, but,
perhaps, an expectation of money advanc'd.
FAIRPLAY.
The property, Sir, is of very great value, and, upon the recovery, any
acknowledgment shall be readily made.
SERJEANT.
There again, _any_! do you know that in law, that word _any_ has no
meaning at all? besides, when people are in distress, they are lavish
enough of their offers; but when their business is done, then we have
nothing but grumbling and grudging.
FAIRPLAY.
You have only to dictate your terms.
SERJEANT.
Does the lad live in town?
FAIRPLAY.
He has been under my care since the death of his father; I have given
him as good an education as my narrow fortune would let me; he is now
studying the law in the Temple, in hopes that should he fail of other
assistance, he may be able one day to do _himself_ justice.
SERJEANT.
In the Temple?
FAIRPLAY.
Yes, Sir, in those little chambers just over your head--I fancy the
young gentleman knows him.
JACK.
Who? Mr. Woodford! Lord as well as myself, he is a sweet sober youth,
and will one day make a vast figure, I am sure.
SERJEANT.
Indeed!
JACK.
I am positive, Sir, if you were to hear him speak at the Robinhood in
the Butcher-row, you would say so yourself: why he is now reckon'd the
third; except the breeches-maker from Barbican, and Sawny Sinclair the
snuffman, there is not a mortal can touch him.
SERJEANT.
Peace, puppy; well Mr. Fairplay, leave the papers a little longer with
me and--pray who is employ'd against you?
FAIRPLAY.
A city attorney, one Sheepskin.
SERJEANT.
A cunning fellow, I know him; well, Sir, if you will call at Pump-court
in a week.
FAIRPLAY.
I shall attend you.
SERJEANT.
Jack, open the door for Mr.--[_Exeunt_ Fairplay _and_ Jack.] Something
may be made of this matter: I'll see this Sheepskin myself. So much
in future for carrying on the suit, or so much in hand to make it
miscarry: a wise man should well weigh which party to take for.
_Enter_ Jack.
So, Jack, any body at chambers to day?
JACK.
Fieri Facias from Fetter lane, about the bill to be filed by Kit Crape
against Will Vizard, this term.
SERJEANT.
Praying for an equal partition of plunder?
JACK.
Yes, Sir.
SERJEANT.
Strange world we live in, that even highwaymen can't be true to each
other! [_half aside to himself._] but we shall make master Vizard
refund, we'll shew him what long hands the law has.
JACK.
Facias says, that in all the books he can't hit on a precedent.
SERJEANT.
Then I'll make one myself; _aut inveniam, aut faciam_, has been
always my motto. The charge must be made for partnership-profit, by
bartering lead and gunpowder, against money, watches, and rings, on
Epping-forest, Hounslow-heath, and other parts of the kingdom.
JACK.
He says, if the court should get scent of the scheme, the parties would
all stand committed.
SERJEANT.
Cowardly rascal! but however, the caution mayn't prove amiss.
[_Aside._] I'll not put my own name to the bill.
JACK.
The declaration too is deliver'd in the cause of Roger Rapp'em against
Sir Solomon Simple.
SERJEANT.
What, the affair of the note?
JACK.
Yes.
SERJEANT.
Why he is clear that his client never gave such a note.
JACK.
Defendant never saw plaintiff since the hour he was born; but,
notwithstanding, they have three witnesses to prove a consideration,
and signing the note.
SERJEANT.
They have?
JACK.
He is puzzled what plea to put in.
SERJEANT.
_Three_ witnesses ready, you say?
JACK.
Yes.
SERJEANT.
Tell him Simple must acknowledge the note, [Jack _starts_] and bid him,
against the trial comes on, to procure _four_ persons at least to prove
the payment, at the Crown and Anchor, the 10th of December.
JACK.
But then how comes the note to remain in plaintiff's possession?
SERJEANT.
Well put, Jack; but we have a _salvo_ for that; plaintiff happen'd not
to have the note in his pocket, but promis'd to deliver it up, when
call'd thereunto by defendant.
JACK.
That will do rarely.
SERJEANT.
Let the defence be a secret, for I see we have able people to deal
with. But come, child, not to lose time, have you carefully conn'd
those instructions I gave you?
JACK.
Yes, Sir.
SERJEANT.
Well, that we shall see. How many points are the great object of
practice?
JACK.
Two.
SERJEANT.
Which are they?
JACK.
The first is to put a man into possession of what is his right.
SERJEANT.
The second?
JACK.
Either to deprive a man of what is _really_ his right, or to keep him
as long as possible _out_ of possession.
SERJEANT.
Good boy! To gain the last end, what are the best means to be us'd?
JACK.
Various and many are the legal modes of delay.
SERJEANT.
Name them.
JACK.
Injunctions, demurrers, sham-pleas, writs of error, rejoinders,
sur-rejoinders, rebutters, sur-rebutters, replications, exceptions,
essoigns, and imparlance.
SERJEANT.
[_To himself._] Fine instruments in the hands of a man, who knows how
to use them.--But now, Jack, we come to the point: if an able advocate
has his choice in a cause, (which if he is in reputation he may readily
have,) which side should he choose, the right, or the wrong?
JACK.
A great lawyer's business, is always to make choice of the wrong.
SERJEANT.
And prythee why so?
JACK.
Because a good cause can speak for itself, whilst a bad one demands an
able counsellor to give it a colour.
SERJEANT.
Very well. But in what respects will this answer to the lawyer himself?
JACK.
In a two-fold way; firstly, his fees will be large in proportion to the
dirty work he is to do.
SERJEANT.
Secondly?--
JACK.
His reputation will rise, by obtaining the victory in a desperate cause.
SERJEANT.
Right, boy.--Are you ready in the case of the cow?
JACK.
Pretty well, I believe.
SERJEANT.
Give it then.
JACK.
First of April, anno seventeen hundred and blank, John a Nokes was
indicted by blank, before blank, in the county of blank, for stealing a
cow, contra pacem etcet.--and against the statute in that case provided
and made, to prevent stealing of cattle.
SERJEANT.
Go on.
JACK.
Said Nokes was convicted upon the said statute.
SERJEANT.
What follow'd upon?--
JACK.
Motion in arrest of judgment, made by counsellor Puzzle. First, Because
the field from whence the cow was convey'd is laid in the indictment as
_round_, but turn'd out upon proof to be _square_.
SERJEANT.
That's well: a valid objection.
JACK.
Secondly, Because in said indictment the colour of the cow is called
red, there being no such things in rerum natura as red cows, no more
than black lions, spread eagles, flying griffins, or blue boars.
SERJEANT.
Well put.
JACK.
Thirdly, said Nokes has not offended against form of the statute;
because stealing of _cattle_ is there provided against: whereas we are
only convicted of stealing a _cow_. Now, though cattle may be cows, yet
it does by no means follow that cows must be cattle.
SERJEANT.
Bravo, bravo! buss me, you rogue, you are your father's own son! go on,
and prosper.--I am sorry, dear Jack, I must leave thee. If Providence
but sends thee life and health, I prophesy, thou wilt wrest as much
land from the owners, and save as many thieves from the gallows, as
any practitioner since the days of king Alfred.
JACK.
I'll do my endeavour. [_Exit_ Serjeant.] So!--father is set off. Now if
I can but lay eyes on our Charlot, just to deliver this letter, before
madam comes home. There she is.--Hist, sister Charlot!
_Enter_ CHARLOT.
CHARLOT.
What have you got there, Jack?
JACK.
Something for you, sister.
CHARLOT.
For me! Prythee what is it?
JACK.
A thing.
CHARLOT.
What thing?
JACK.
A thing that will please you I'm sure.
CHARLOT.
Come, don't be a boy, let me have it. [Jack _gives the letter_.] How's
this! a letter! from whom?
JACK.
Can't you guess?
CHARLOT.
Not I; I don't know the hand.
JACK.
May be not; but you know the inditer.
CHARLOT.
Then tell me his name.
JACK.
Break open the seal, and you'll find it.
CHARLOT.
[_Opening the letter_] "Charles Woodford!"--I am sure I know nothing of
him.
JACK.
Ay, but sister you do.
CHARLOT.
How! when, and where?
JACK.
Don't you remember about three weeks ago, when you drank tea at our
chambers, there was a young gentleman in a blue sattin waist-coat, who
wore his own head of hair?
CHARLOT.
Well?
JACK.
That letter's from he.
CHARLOT.
What can be his business with me?
JACK.
Read that, and you'll know.
CHARLOT _reads_.
"Want words to apologize--hum, hum--very first moment I saw you--hum,
hum--smother'd long in my breast--hum, hum--happiest, or else the most
wretched of men."--So, Sir, you have undertaken a pretty commission!
and what do you think my father will--
JACK.
Why, I hope you won't go for to tell him.
CHARLOT.
Indeed, Sir, but I shall.
JACK.
No, sister, I'm sure you won't be so cross. Besides, what could I do?
The poor young lad begg'd so hard; and there for this fortnight he has
gone about sighing, and musing, and moping: I am satisfied it would
melt you to see him. Do, sister, let me bring him this evening, now
father is out.
CHARLOT.
Upon my word!--The young man has made no bad choice of an agent; you
are for pushing matters at once.--But harkee, Sir, who is this spark
you are so anxious about? And how long have you known him?
JACK.
Oh! a prodigious long while: above a month I am certain. Don't you
think him mighty genteel? I assure you he is vastly lik'd by the ladies.
CHARLOT.
He is.
JACK.
Yes, indeed. Mrs. Congo, at the Grecian coffee-house, says, he's
the soberest youth that comes to the house; and all Mrs. Mittens's
'prentices throw down their work, and run to the window every time he
goes by.
CHARLOT.
Upon my word!
JACK.
And moreover, besides that, he has several great estates in the
country; but only for the present, he is kept out of 'em all by the
owners.
CHARLOT.
Ah, Jack! that's the worst part of the story.
JACK.
Pshaw! that's nothing at all. His guardian, Mr. Fairplay, has been with
father to-day, and says, he is certain that he can set all to rights in
a trice.
CHARLOT.
Well, Jack, when that point is determin'd, it will be time enough to--
JACK.
Then! Lord of mercy! why, sister Charlot, it is my private opinion
that if you don't give him some crumbs of comfort, he won't live till
Midsummer term.
CHARLOT.
I warrant you. Either Cupid's darts were always but poetical engines,
or they have been lately depriv'd of their points. Love holds no place
in the modern bills of mortality. However, Jack, you may tell your
friend, that I have observ'd his frequent walks in our street.
JACK.
Walks! Why one should think he was appointed to relieve the old
watchman; for no sooner one is _off_, but the other comes _on_.
CHARLOT.
And that from his eyes being constantly fixed on my window (for the
information of which, I presume he is indebted to you.)----
JACK.
He! he! he!
CHARLOT.
I had a pretty shrewd guess at his business; but tell him that unless
my fa----Hush! our tyrant is return'd. Don't leave the house till I see
you.
_Enter Mrs._ CIRCUIT _and_ BETTY.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
So, Sir, what makes you loitering from chambers? I thought I told you,
you should never be here but at meals? [_Exit_ Jack.] One spy is enough
in a family.--Miss, you may go to your room; and d'ye hear--I shall
have company, so you need not come down. [_Exit_ Charlot.]--Betty, no
message or letter?
BETTY.
None, Madam.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
That is amazing!--You know I expect Colonel Secret and Mrs. Simper
every instant.
BETTY.
Yes, Madam.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Put the fruit and the wine on the table in the next room.
BETTY.
Very well, Madam.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
And, Betty, order the fellow to let nobody in but Sir Luke.
BETTY.
Madam, I shall take care. [_Exit._
Mrs. CIRCUIT _sits down_.
The ballot must be over by this time. Sure there is nothing so dreadful
as a state of suspence: but should they black ball me!--No, there's
no danger of that; miss Mattadore has insur'd me success.--Well,
this is certainly one of the most useful institutions; it positively
supplies the only point of time one does not know how to employ.
From twelve, the hour of one's rising, to dinner, is a most horrible
chasm; for though teizing the mercers and milliners by tumbling their
wares, is now and then an entertaining amusement, yet upon repetition
it palls.--But every morning to be sure of a party, and then again at
night after a rout, to have a place to retire to; to be quite freed
from all pain of providing; not to be pester'd at table with the odious
company of clients, and country cousins; for I am determin'd to dine,
and sup at the club, every day. I can tell 'em, they'll have but very
few forfeits from me.
_Enter_ BETTY, _in haste, with a Letter_.
BETTY.
By a chairman, Madam, from the Thatch'd House.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Give it me, Betty, this instant;--ay--this is Mattadore's hand. [_opens
and reads the letter._] "My dear Circuit--it is with the utmost
concern, and confusion, I find myself oblig'd to acquaint you, that
notwithstanding all the pains I have taken, the club have thought fit
to reject."--Oh! [_She faints._]
BETTY.
Bless my soul! my lady is gone!--John! Will! Kitty! run hither this
instant.--
_Enter two_ MAIDS _and a Man_ SERVANT.
ALL.
What, what's the matter?
BETTY.
Quick! quick! some hartshorn and water [_pats her hand._] Madam!
madam--
SERVANT.
Here! here! here! [_bringing water._]
BETTY.
John, go for the _potter-carrier_ this instant--I _believes_ to my soul
she is dead--Kitty, fetch some feathers to burn under her nose;--there,
stand further off, and give her some air--
_Enter Sir_ LUKE.
Sir LUKE.
Hey day! what the deuce is the matter? what's the meaning of all this,
Mrs. Betty?
BETTY.
Oh! Sir, is it you--my poor lady! [_cries_] clap the bottle hard to her
nose.
Sir LUKE.
But how came it about?
BETTY.
Some of the _continents_ of that curs'd letter, she has there in her
hand.
Sir LUKE.
Here, here, take some of my eau de luce. [_offering a bottle._]
BETTY.
There! she recovers a little--some water--I believe it is nothing but
a _satirical_ fit, I have had them myself--now she opens her eyes--so,
so--bend her forward a little.
Sir LUKE.
My sweet Mrs. Circuit.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Who is that?
BETTY.
Nobody at all madam, but only Sir Luke.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Oh! Sir Luke, such a stroke, so fatal, so sudden, it is not in nature I
should ever survive it.
Sir LUKE.
Marry heaven forbid! but what cause--what could--
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Leave the room. [_To the servants, who go out._] Only, look over that
letter.
Sir LUKE.
Hum, hum,--[_reads_] "fit to reject you--this--"
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
There! there! there!
Sir LUKE.
I own this is the utmost malice of fortune--but let me finish the
letter.--"This calamity, dear Circuit, is of such a nature as
baffles all advice, or interposition of friends, I shall therefore
leave you to time, and your own good understanding." [_pretty
and sensible._]--"yours," &c.--But let us see, what says the
postscript--[_reads._] "Perhaps it may give you some comfort to know
that you had sixteen almonds, and but two raisins against you."
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
But two!
Sir LUKE.
No more.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
This must be Kitty Cribbage's doing, she has been tattling about the
paltry trifle I owe her.
Sir LUKE.
Not unlikely: but come, bear up, my dear madam, and consider that
_two_--
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Is as bad as two thousand.
Sir LUKE.
Granted; but perhaps it mayn't be too late to repair.--Gadso! I have
thought of a scheme--I'll be elected myself, and then I warrant we
manage--
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
You, Sir Luke? that never can be.
Sir LUKE.
No, Madam, and why not?--why you don't suppose that they wou'd venture
to--
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
It would not only be against the spirit, but the very letter of their
constitution to chuse you a member.
Sir LUKE.
Ay, Madam, how so?
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
_Their_ statutes are selected from all the codes that ever existed from
the days of Lycurgus to the present Czarina.
Sir LUKE.
Well.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
The law that relates to your case they have borrow'd from the Roman
religion.
Sir LUKE.
As how?
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
As no man can be admitted a monk, who has the least corporal spot, or
defect; so, no candidate can be receiv'd as a member who is depriv'd of
the use of any one of his limbs.
Sir LUKE.
Nay, then indeed I am clearly cut out; that incapacity can never be got
over.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Indeed, the Serjeant says, if the club could be induc'd to _resolve_ in
your favour, then the _original law_ would signify nothing.
Sir LUKE.
Well, well, we'll see what can be done. [_A loud knocking._] But hush!
the company's come; collect yourself, sweet Mrs. Circuit; don't give
your enemies the malicious pleasure of seeing how this disappointment
affects you.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Never fear; I know a little too much of the world not to turn this
defeat to my credit.
_Enter_ Colonel SECRET _and_ Mrs. SIMPER.
Mrs. SIMPER.
Your servant, Sir Luke; my dear Circuit, I am frighten'd to death--your
people tell me, you are but just recover'd from a--
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Oh! nothing at all! a faintness, a kind of swimming--but those people
are ever swelling that mole hills to mountains.
Mrs. SIMPER.
I protest I was afraid that you had suffer'd your late disappointment
to lay hold of your spirits.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
What disappointment, my dear?
COLONEL.
Mrs. Simper hints at the little mistake made this morning at the
Thatch'd House.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
That! ridiculous! I could have told you that a fortnight ago,
child--all my own doing.
Mrs. SIMPER.
How!
Sir LUKE.
Entirely.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
Oh! I always detested the thoughts of the thing;--they would put me
up, let me say what I would, so I was reduc'd to the necessity of
prevailing upon two of my friends to _black ball_ me.
Mrs. SIMPER.
That, indeed, alters the case.
COLONEL.
I am vastly happy to hear it: your old acquaintance were afraid they
should lose you.
Mrs. CIRCUIT.
It is a sign they know but little of me--but come, my good folks, I
have prepared a small collation in the next room, will you--[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ JACK _and_ WOODFORD.
JACK.
I'll watch sister, to see that nobody comes; now Woodford make good use
of your time. [_Exit_ Woodford.] There, I have left 'em together; if
I had staid, I don't believe they would have open'd their mouths for
a month: I never saw such an alteration in a lad since the day I was
born.--Why, if I had not known him before, I should not have thought he
had a word to throw to a dog; but I remember the old proverb:
True lovers are shy,
When people are by.
I'll take a peep to see how they go on:--there they are, just in the
same posture I left them; she folding her fingers, and he twirling
his hat; why they don't even look at each other: was there ever
such a couple of--stay, stay, now he opens his mouth--pshaw!--lord!
there he shuts it again--hush! I hear somebody coming--no--nothing
at all:--mother is safe I am sure,--there is no danger from her--now
let us take t'other--[_peeps at the door._] hum!--gadso, matters are
mightily mended--there! there! very well--there he lays down the
law--now he claps his hand on his heart--vastly pretty, I vow--there he
swops with both his knees on the ground--charming!--and squeezes his
hat with both hands, like one of the actors--delightful! she wants him
to rise, and he won't--prodigious moving indeed!
_Enter_ BETTY.
BETTY.
So Sir, what are you doing there?
JACK.
There! where?
BETTY.
With your eyes glew'd close to the keyhole.
JACK.
I wanted to speak a word to my sister.
BETTY.
Then why don't you open her door?
JACK.
I did not know but she might be saying her prayers.
BETTY.
Prayers! a likely story! Who says their prayers, at this time of the
day?--No, no, that won't pass upon me.--Let me look--very pretty! So,
so, I see there's somebody else at his prayers too--fine doings!--As
soon as the company goes, I shall take care to inform Madam your mother.
JACK.
Nay, but Mrs. Betty you won't be so--
BETTY.
Indeed. Mr. John, but I shall--I'll swallow none of your secrets,
believe me.
JACK.
What, perhaps your stomach is overloaded already.
BETTY.
No matter for that, I shall be even with Miss for telling Master about
and concerning my drums.
JACK.
Why, Mrs. Betty, surely sister could not--
BETTY.
When she very well knows that I have not sent cards but twice the whole
season.
JACK.
Lord! what signi--
BETTY.
What would she say, if she visited the great families I do? For tho' I
am as I may say but a commoner, no private gentlewoman's gentlewoman,
has a more prettier set of acquaintance.
JACK.
Well but--
BETTY.
My routs indeed!--There is Mrs. Allspice, who lives with lady Cicily
Sequence, has six tables every Sunday, besides looers, and braggers;
and moreover proposes giving a masquerade, the beginning of June, and I
intends being there.
JACK.
Well, but to talk calmly.
BETTY.
And as Miss is so fond of fetching and carrying, you may tell her
we are to have a private play among ourselves, as the quality have:
the _Distrustful_ Mother, 'tis call'd--Pylades, by Mr. Thomas,
Lord Catastrophe's butler--Hermione, Mrs. Allspice; and I shall do
Andromache myself.
JACK.
A play! lord, Mrs. Betty, will you give me a ticket?
BETTY.
All's one for that--and so you may tell Miss that--[_bell rings_]
coming, Madam, this minute--and that, Mr. John, is the long and the
short on't. [_Bell rings again._] Lord, I am coming--[_Exit._
_Enter_ WOODFORD _to_ JACK.
WOODFORD.
What's the matter?
JACK.
Here, Betty, my mother's fac totum, has just discover'd your haunts;
and is gone to lay an information against you--so depend upon it, a
search warrant will issue directly.
WOODFORD.
Stay but a moment, till I take leave of your sister.
JACK.
Zooks! I tell you the constables will be here in a trice, so you have
not a moment to lose.
WOODFORD.
How unlucky this is!
JACK.
But I hope you have obtain'd a verdict however.
WOODFORD.
No.
JACK.
No!
WOODFORD.
It would not have been decent, to have press'd the judge too soon for a
sentence.
JACK.
Soon!--You are a ninny, I tell you so:--here you will suffer judgment
to go by default.--You are a pretty practitioner indeed!
WOODFORD.
This, you may know, my dear Jack, is an equity case; I have but just
fil'd my bill; one must give the parties time to put in an answer.
JACK.
Time!--How you may come off in court I can't tell, but you will turn
out but a poor chamber counsel I fear.--Well, come along, perhaps I
may be able to procure another hearing before it is--but lord o'mercy!
there is father crossing the hall--should he see us all's over--we have
nothing for't but taking shelter with sister. [_Exeunt._