damn'd M'Gloodtery is an old pocher, he shoots all the rabbits in the country to ftock his own burrough withBut Chergeant, don't you think he'll have a fine time on't that comes after me to Ballyfhans Duff.

Serg. Why, Sir?

Capt. Why, don't you remember that I left an empty hogshead half full of oats there?

Serg. You mean, Sir, that you left it half full, and it is empty by this time.

Capt. Phat magnifies that, you fool? 'tis all the fame thing, fure. But d'ye hear, Chergeant, ftop and inquire for Mr Tradwell's the merchant,-at the fign of the-Oh! Cangrane, that's not it, but it was next door -Arrah, go afk phat fign my coufin Tradwell lives at next door to it.

Enter a Mob, who ftare and laugh at him.

1 Mob. Twig his boots.

2 Mob. Smoke his fword, &c. &c.

Capt. Well, you fcoundrels, you fons of whores, did you never fee an Irifh fhentleman before?

Enter Sconce.

Sconce. O fie, gentlemen! are you not ashamed to mock a ftranger after this rude manner?

Capt. This is a fhivil fhort of a little fellow enough.

[Afidé Sconce. If he is an Irishman, you may fee by his dress and behaviour that he is a gentleman..

Capt. Yefh, you fhons of whores, don't you fee by my drefs that I am a fhentleman? And if I have not better cloaths on now, phat magnifies that? fure I can have them on to-morrow. By my fhoul, if I take my fhilela to you, I'll make you fkip like a dead falmon.

Sconce. Oh, for fhame, gentleman, go about your bu finefs: The first man that offers an infult to him, I fhall take it as an affront to myself. [Mob exeunt:

Capt. (to Sconce.) Shir, your humble fervant; you feem to be a fhivil, mannerly kind of a gentleman, and I fhall be glad to be gratified with your nearer acquaint[Salute. Sconce. Pray, Sir, what part of England come you from?

ance.

Capt.

Capt. The devil a part of England am I from, my dear; I am an Irishman.

Sconce. An Irishman! Sir, I fhould not fufpect that; you have not the least bit of the brogue about you. Capt. Brogue! No, my dear; I always wear fhoes,. only now and then when I have boots.on..

Enter Cheatwell..

Cheat. Captain O'Blunder!—Sir, you're extremely welcome to London --Sir,. I'm your most fincere friend, and devoted humble fervant.

Capt. Ara then! how well every body knows me in London-to be fure they have read of my name in the newspapers, and they know my faafh ever fince-Shir I'm your moft engaging converfation.

[Salute.

Cheat. And, Captain, tell us how long are you arrived?

Capt. Upon my fhoul, I'm just now come into London.

Cheat. I hope you had a good paffage,

Capt. Paffage d'ye call it ?-Devil fplit it for a paffage. By my fhoul, my own bones are fhore after itWe were on the devil's own turnpike for eight and-forty hours; to be fure, we were all in a comical pickle.I'll tell you, my dear: We were brought down from Rings-end in the little young ship to the Pool-pheg, and then put into the great fhip-the horse-ay, ay,-the Race-horfe they call'd it.-But I believe, my dear, it was the devil's own poft-horfe; for I was no fooner got into the little room down ftairs, by the corner of the hill of Hoath, but I was taken with fuch a headach in my ftomach, that I thought my guts would come out upon the floor;-fo, my dear, I call'd out to the landlord, the captain they call him, to ftop the ship while I did die and fay my prayers. So, my dear, there was a great noife above; I run up to see what was the matter. -Oh hone, my dear, in one minute's time there wasn't a fheet or blanket but phat was haul'd up to the top of the house-Oh, kingrann, fays I, turn her about and let us go home again; but, my dear, he took no more notice of me than if I was one of the spalpeens below in the cellar going over to reap in harvest.

Cheats

Cheat. No, Captain?—the unmannerly, fellow! And what brought you to London, Captain?

Capt. Fait, my dear jewel, the stage-coach ;—I fail'd in it from Chester.

Cheat. I mean what business?

Capt. How damn'd inquifitive they are here! but I'll be as cunning as no man alive. (Afide.) But my shoul, my jewel, I am going over to Wirginny to beat the French-they fay they have driven our countrymen out of their plantations:-By my fhoul, my jewel, if our troops get vonfe among them, we'll cut them all in pieces, and then bring them over prifoners of war be fides.

Cheat. Indeed, Captain, you are come upon an honourable expedition-But pray, how is the old gentleman your father? I hope you left him in good health? Capt. Oh, by my fhoul, he's very well, joy; for he's dead and buried these ten years.

Cheat. And the old gentleman your uncle?

Capt. I don't believe you mean that unele, for I never had one.

Cheat. No, I'm fure

Capt. O I'll tell you who you mean you mean my. ahifter's husband; you fool you, that's my brother-inlaw

Cheat. Ay, a handsome man-as proper a man

Capt. Ha, ha, a handsome man! Ay, for he's a damn'd crooked. fellow; he's bandy-fhoulder'd, and has a hump on his nofe, and a pair of huckle-backs upon his thins, if you call that handfome, ha, ha!

Cheat. And pray is that merry, joking gentleman alive ftill he that us'd to make us laugh fo—Mr~~~ Mr.A.

Capt. Phugh, I'll tell you who you mean; you mean Sheela Shagnaffy's husband the parfon..

Cheat. The very fame.

Capt. Oh, my dear jewel, he's as merry as he never was in his life. Phin I'm by, he's fometimes pretty fmart upon me with his bumbuggs-But I told him at laft, before Captain Flaharty, Mifs Mulfinin, and Miss Owney Glafmogonogh-Hark ye, Mr Parfon,. fays I, by my shoul, you have no more wit than a goofe. Oh

hone!

hone! he was ftruck at that, my dear, and hadn't a word in his cheek—Ara, my jewel, I'll tell you the whole ftory. We took a walk together-it was a fine calm morning, confidering the wind was very high-so, my dear, the wind 'twas in our backs going, but by my fhoul, as we came back, 'twas in our faafh coming home; and yet I could never perfuade him that the wind was turn'd

Cheat. Oh the fool!

Capt. Ara, fo I told him, my jewel. Pugh, you great oaf, fays I-if the wind blows in your back going, and blows in your faafh coming, fure the wind is turn'd No, if I was to preach, and to preach till laft Patrick's day in the morning, I could not diffuade him that the wind was turn'd.

Cheat. He had not common fenfe-Well, and does the old church ftand where it did?

Capt. The old church-the devil a church I remember within ten miles of us

Cheat. I'm fure there was an old building like a church or caftle.

Capt. Phoo, my jewel, I know what you call a church

By my fhoul, 'tis old lame Will Hurly's mill you mean the devil a church-indeed they fay mafs in it fometimes. Here, Terence, go to that fon of a whore of a taylor, and fee whether my cloaths be done or no. [Exit Terence.

Cheat. Sure I fhould know that fergeant of yours ; his name is-

Capt. Wifeacre, my dear: He's the best recruitingfergeant in all Ireland; and, my dear, he understands riding as well as no man alive; and he was manured to it from his cradle. I brought him over to fee if I could get no preferment for him at all :-If I could get him now to be a riding-mafter to a regiment of marines, he would be very well; for I gave him a word of advice myfelf. Hark ye, Terence, fays I

Cheat. Terence !

Capt. Ay, that's his name- Hark ye, Terence, fays i, you have a long time lain under the computation of being a Papift; and if ever you come into the field of battle, it will be encumbered upon you, to ftigma

tize yourself like a gentleman; and I warrant, let him alone, I'll warrant he plays his part, if once they come to dry blows.

Enter Sconce, with Monfieur Ragou. [Talk apart. Sconce. Confider, Monfieur, he's your rival, and is come purely and with an intent to rob you of your miftrefs.

Monf. Is he? Le fripon―le grand fripon! Parblieu ! me no indure dat- Ici l'epee-my vat you call-my fword-Eft bien affure-me no fuffer dat..

Sconce. And he's the greateft of all cowards tho' he carries that great fwaggering broad-fword-Believe me, Monfieur, he would not fight a cat-he'd run away if you drew upon him

Monf. Etes vous bien assure, are you well affur'd, mon ami, dat he be de grand coward- Eh bien-Vel ten -I vill have his blood-My heart go pit-a-pat, (afide.) Je ne pas le courage, I have not de good courage.

-Helas

Sconce. Tut, man, only affront him-go up to him. Monf. Me fall fhow him de bon address(goes up to the Captain,) Monfieur le Capitaine, vous etes le grand fripon.

Capt. Well, gelun a gud, have you any Irish? Monf. Ireland! me be no fuch outlandish contre; you fmell of de potatoe.

Capt. Do 1-By my fhoul, I did not taafht a pratty fince I left Ireland. May be he has a mind to put the front upon me? [To Cheatwell. Cheat. It looks very like it, very like it, Captain. Capt. Fait, my jewel, I don't know a more peaceable companion than fweetlips here, (putting his hand to his faword); but if he's provok'd, he's no flouch at it-Do you mean to front me, you French boogre?

-Eh

Monf. Affront-You be de Teague-de vile Irishman -de potato-face- -Me no tink it vort my while to notice you-Allez vous en Get you gone, Sir-ge about your business-go to your own hottentot contre. Capt. Hot and trot! Oh ho, are you there? Take that, you French shon of a whore. (Gives him a box ex the ear.) Here, my dear, take my fhilela. [Gives his cudgel to Cheatwell.

Sconce.