Darnley make me an apology?" fays I "he might as well." Darnley. You did not ! Gingham. Ah, but I did though: "it's very well for fashionable husbands, to leave their wives with friends, in hopes of getting divorces and damages; but what right," fays I," has a country 'fquire to quit his farm, and truft his wife with baronets, fools, and coxcombs ?to plant his own horns," fays I! (drinks.) “Succefs to trade." Darnley. And how did this end, fir? Gingham. How!-why the other fecond interfer'd-faid Sir George could'nt fire at you, and advised him to apologize-he hesitatedI put my hand on my fword-reminded him of my fine fencing-he fign'd this paper-I've already fhewn it to Mrs. Darnley, and fo(drinks.) Here's the child that has two fathers! Darnley. (Reading the paper.) 'Tis ample, final fatisfaction-wasn't my Maria happy? Gingham. She was-but with women, grief foon follows joy, you know-fhe fays, your uncle, whoever he is, has order'd you to quit Bath,. and go abroad-that fhe is to be left behind, and as your fortune is exhaufted, the fears you muft confent-I'm forry I'm pinch'd toohowever (drinks.) Here's confufion to your ftingy old uncle! Darnley. Unfeeling, perfecuting man!-fcparate me from all I love-I know the motive for this barbarous conduct-he has found a fon, on whom he means to lavish all his favours, and while he rolls in luxury, I and my family may ftarve-may-but he comes. Enter Enter Sir PAUL PERPETUAL. Sir Paul. So, Mr. Darnley: how dare you intrude into the houses of great people, and thus repeatedly disgrace me?-look'ye, fir—I have made up my mind-you must seek your fortune abroad-I'll pay your expences to the continent, and left your family fhould be a burthen to you, I'll provide for your wife at home. Darnley. Oh, fir! do not part us! Sir Paul. I will!-I'm refolv'd! (Seeing Gingbam.) hah!-what do I fee?-my boy!--my darling!-how came you here, you rogue? Gingham. Father, you're come in time-juft in time to finish the bottle! (filling him a bumper, and putting it in his hand) drink! drink the last toaft! Sir Paul. Ay, what is it? Gingham. "Confufion to Darnley's" Sir Paul. With all my heart-" Confufion to Darnley's" Gingham. "Stingy old uncle!" Sir Paul. (Spitting out the wine.) Stingy old uncle !-why that's confufion to myself, you dog! Gingham. What! is it you-well! hang me if I didn't think it was my father-that is my other father, the money-lender-coufin-relation-how are you? (fbaking Darnley by the hand.) Sir Paul. Nonfenfe! never mind him-I've brought you your commiffion-a company in a regiment ferving in Ireland. Gingham. Have you? (to Sir Paul.) who'd have thought my father was your miserly uncle, heh! (to Darnley.) Sir Paul. It's three hundred a-year, my boy! pfha! don't mind him, I tell you, (pulling him away from Darnley.) I referve every thing for you I always meant to give all I could to my fon. Gingham. Did you!-Oh then it comes to the fame point; why, perhaps, you'll give me two hundred pounds. Sir Paul. Ay, that I will. Gingham. What! and the commiffion too! Sir Paul. Yes, and the commiffion too! here they are both-and fome ten years hence, I'll join the regiment, and ferve under you; under my brave fon! Gingham. No-under your brave nephew, if you like I don't understand the exercife, and Darnley does! and therefore, as we're all relations-all in a family, I'll e'en give him the commiffion-Nay, don't be fhy,coufin-it makes no difference, father, does it? Sir Paul. Death and fire! it does, fir, it makes all the difference, and I fwear Gingham. Softly-you can make me a hero in another way-as I was brought up to trade, pop me into the train-bands-then I can be kill'd in the Artillery Ground in one day, and be alive in the fhop the next! fo keep the commiffion, coufin; keep it—(Forcing it into Darnley's band.) and here-here's the money to take you, your wife and children to Ireland—(giving the Bank notes.)-there! now moderate your joy, father! you've done a kind, generous action to be fure: but why!-why in fuch an ecftacy? Sir Paul. Ecftacy! agony, you puppy! Gingham. Gently, gently; at the public breakfaft I fhall found forth your praises-come, coufin-the best of the joke is, I've another father; and though he won't lend you a fhilling, I'll make him fend you linen enough to shirt your whole regiment.-Farewell, thou liberal man!look!-Selfgratification has brought tears of joy into his eyes. (Exit with Darnley.) Sir Paul. Tears of joy !-if being cheated out of my money, makes me cry for pleasure, what fhall I do, if I get it back again ?—was there ever fuch a fellow ?-however the commiffion is of no ufe to Darnley-but then the two hundred pounds-and the ease with which he did it. Enter a Servant. Servant. A letter from your ward, Sir Paul. It requires an immediate answer. Sir Paul. (Reading it.) "Sir, I am now at "the Public Breakfaft, where Mifs Savage ac"tually infifted on my coming. I have difcover"ed a deep plot of Mr. Savage's, and when I tell 66 you, I am in danger of being run away with, "without my confent, I'm fure you will fly to "the relief of your Affectionate ward, "CLARA SEDLEY." Sir Paul. I'll come directly-(Servant exit.)— So-So-they have heard of her fudden acquifition of fortune-of the Copper Mines being difcovered on her eftate, and now like, true favages, they mean to paw the property-but I've a hufband for her in my eye. She has formed an affection for this liberal fon of mine, and the dog can't take her for a man in woman's clothes. Enter Enter FLUSH. Flub. You knave !-if I catch you-how, has he left the tavern?-Ah, Sir Paul !—pray, Sir, have you feen any thing of my son? Sir Paul. I know nothing of your fon, fir. Flub. He has been diftributing my propertygiving away my money, Sir Paul. Sir Paul. 'Gad! My fon has been doing me the fame favour. Flush. Ay, fir; but my fon has fwindled me out of two hundred pounds. Sir Paul. That's the exact fum my fon has fwindled me out of-fo let's fhake hands and cry for joy! Flub. Well, well-I can afford it—but, Sir Paul, there is only one way he can make me retribution-you've heard of our ward's copper mines, and though you have only known me as a private gentleman, and I you as joint guardian-yet I think you will confent to her marrying the man I propose. Sir Paul. And pray, who may the gentleman be?-not the Honourable Mr. Savage, I hope, for he has no property but my two racers. Flufb. No-no-my fon-my rogue of a fon!-will you agree? Sir Paul. Why I would with pleasure, only- Sir Paul. I mean to propofe my rogue of a fon. Flufb. Your fon!-why how came you by a fon?-but to the point-my boy has won her heart, Sir Paul. Sir Paul. So has mine too, Mr. Flush. Flufb. |