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IV. Boniface and Aimwell.

Bon. THIS way, this way, Sir.

Aim. You're my landlord I fuppofe.

Bon. Yes, Sir, I'm old Will Boniface; pretty well known upon this road, as the faying is.

Aim. O, Mr Boniface, your fervant.

Bon. O, Sir-What will your honour please to drink, as the faying is?

Aim. I have heard your town of Litchfield much famed for ale: I think I'll tafte that.

Bon. Sir, I have now in my cellar ten ton of the best ale in Staffordshire: 'tis fmooth as oil, fweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy; and will be just fourteen years old the fifth day of next March, old style. Aim. You're very exact, I find, in the age of your.

ale.

Bon. As punctual, Sir, as I am in the age of my children: I'll fhow you fuch ale!-Here, Tapster, broach number 1706, as the faying is.-Sir, you shall taste my anno domini.-I have lived in Litchfield, man and boy, above eight-and-fifty years, and, I believe, have not confumed eight-and-fifty ounces of meat.

Aim. At a meal, you mean, if one may guefs by your bulk.

Bon. Not in my life, Sir: I have fed purely upon ale: I have eat my ale, drunk my ale, and I always. fleep upon ale. [Enter Tapfter with a tankard. Now, Sir, you fhall fee-Your worship's health: [drinks]-Ha! delicious, delicious!-Fancy it Burgundy, only fancy it,-and 'tis worth ten fhillings a quart. Aim. [drinks.] 'Tis confounded strong.

Bon. Strong it must be fo, or how fhould we be frong that drink it?

Aim. And have you lived fo long upon this ale, land- lord?

Bon. Eight-and-fifty years, upon my credit, Sir: but it kill'd my wife, poor woman, as the saying is. Aim. How came that to pass!

Bon. I don't know how, Sir,-fhe would not let the ale take its natural courfe, Sir: fhe was for qualifying it every now and then with a dram, as the faying is;.

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and an honeft gentleman that came this way from Ireland, made her a prefent of a dozen bottles of ufquebaugh-but the poor woman was never well after-but, however, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know. Aim. Why, was it the ufquebaugh that kill'd her? Bon. My lady Bountiful faid fo-She, good lady, did what could be done : fhe cured her of three tympanies; but the fourth carried her off. But fhe's happy, and I'm contented, as the faying is.

Aim. Who's that lady Bountiful you mentioned?

Bon. Odd's my life, Sir, we'll drink her health →→ [drinks.]-My lady Bountiful is one of the beft of women. Her laft husband, Sir Charles Bountiful, left her worth a thousand pounds a-year; and I believe the lays out one half on't in charitable uses for the good of her neighbours.

Aim. Has the lady been any other way useful in her generation?

Bon. Yes, Sir, fhe has a daughter by Sir Charlės; the finest woman in all our county, and the greatest fortune. She has a fon too, by her firft husband; 'fquire Sullen, who married a fine lady from London t'other day if you pleafe, Sir, we'll drink his health. [Drinks. Aim. What fort of a man is he?

Bon. Why, Sir, the man's well enough; fays little,, thinks lefs, and does-nothing at all, faith: but he's a man of great eftate, and values nobody..

Aim. A fportfman, I fuppofe?

Bon. Yes, he's a man of pleafure; he plays at whift,. and smokes his pipe eight-and-forty hours together fometimes.

Aim. A fine fportfman, truly!-and married, you: fay?

Bon. Ay; and to a curious woman, Sir.-But he's my landlord; and fo a man, you know, would notSir, my humble fervice to you. [drinks.]-Though I value not a farthing what he can do to me: I pay him. his rent at quarter day; I have a good running trade;, I have but one daughter, and I can give her——but no matter for that.

Aim. You're very happy, Mr Boniface: pray, what: ather company have you in town?.

Bon

Bon. A power of fine ladies; and then we have the French officers.

Aim. O that's right, you have a good many of thofe gentlemen: pray, how do you like their company? Bon. So well, as the faying is, that I could with we had as many more of them. They're full of money, and pay double for every thing they have. They know, Sir, that we paid good round taxes for the taking of 'em; and fo they are willing to reimburfe us a little one of 'em lodges in my houfe. [Bell rings.]I beg your worship's pardon-I'll wait on you again in half a minute.

V. Lovegold and Lappet.

Love. ALL's well hitherto; my dear money is fafe. -Is it you, Lappet?

Lap. I fhould rather aik if it be you, Sir: why, you look fo young and vigorous

Love. Do I, Do I

Lap. Why, you grow younger and younger every day, Sir. you never looked half fo young in your life, Sir, as you do now. Why, Sir, I know fifty young fellows of five-and-twenty that are older than you are.

Love. That may be, that may be, Lappet, confidering the lives they lead; and yet I am a good ten years above fifty..

Lap. Well, and what's ten years above fifty? 'tis the very flower of a man's age. Why, Sir, you are now inthe very prime of your life.

Love. Very true, that's very true, as to understand. ing; but I am afraid, could I take off twenty years, it would do me no harm with the ladies, Lappet.-How goes on our affair with Mariana? Have you mentioned any thing about what her mother can give her? For, now-a-days, nobody marries a woman unless fhe bring fomething with her befides a petticoat:

Lap. Sir, why, Sir, this young lady will be worth to you as good a thousand pound a-year as ever was told.

Love. How a thousand pound a-year?

Lap. Yes, Sir. There's, in the first place, the ar ticle of a table: fhe has a very little ftomach; fhe does

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not eat above an ounce in a fortnight: and then, as to the quality of what the cats, you'll have no need of a French cook upon her account. As for fweet-meats, she mortally hates them: fo there is the article of defferts wiped off all at once. You'll have no need of a confectioner, who would be eternally bringing in bills for preferves, conferves, biscuits, comfits, and jellies, of which half a dozen ladies would swallow you ten pounds worth at a meal. This, I think, we may very moderately reckon at two hundred pounds a-year at least.—For clothes, fhe has been bred up at fuch a plainnefs in them, that should we allow but for three birthnight-suits a-year faved, which are the leaft a town-lady would expect, there go a good two hundred pounds a-year more.-For jewels (of which fhe hates the very fight) the yearly in tereft of what you must lay out in them would amount to one hundred pounds.-Laftly, she has an utter deteftation for play, at which I have known feveral mode. rate ladies lofe a good two thousand pounds a-year. Now, let us take only the fourth part of that, which amounts to five hundred, to which if we add two hundred pounds on the table-account, two hundred pounds in. clothes, and one hundred pounds in jewels-there is, Sir, your thousand pound a-year in hard money.

Love. Ay, ay, these are pretty things, it must be confeffed, very pretty things; but there's nothing real.

in them.

Lap. How, Sir! is it not fomething real to bring you a vast store of fobriety, the inheritance of a love for fimplicity of drefs, and a vaft acquired fund of hatred for play!

You:

Love. This is downright raillery, Lappet, to make me up a fortune out of the expences fhe won't put me to. But there is another thing that disturbs me. know this girl is young, and young people generally love: one another's company; it would ill agree with a perfon. of my temper to keep an affembly for all the young rakes and flaunting girls in town.

Lap. Ah, Sir, how little do you know of her! this is another particularity that I had to tell you of; fhe has a moft terrible averfion to all young people, and loves none but perfons of your years. I would advise:

you

you, above all things, to take care not to appear too young. She infifts on fixty at leaft. She fays that fiftyfix years are not able to content her.

Love. This humour is a little ftrange, methinks.

Lap. She carries it farther, Sir, than can be imagined. She has in her chamber several pictures; but, what do you think they are none of your fmock-faced young fellows, your Adonis's, your Paris's, and your Apollo's: no, Sir, you fee nothing there, but your handsome figures of Saturn, king Priam, Old Neftor, and good father Anchifes upon his fon's fhoulders.

Love. Admirable ! this is more than I could have hoped: to fay the truth, had I been a woman, I should never have loved young fellows.

Lap. I believe you: pretty fort of stuff, indeed, to be in love with, your young fellows pretty masters, indeed, with their fine complexions, and their fine fea❤ thers!

Love. And do you really think me pretty tolerable!

Lap. Tolerable! you are ravishing: if your picture was drawn by a good hand, Sir, it would be invaluable! Turn about a little, if you pleafe-there, what can be more charming? Let me fee you walk-there's a perfon for you; tall, ftraight, free, and degagée: why, Sir, you have no fault about you.

Love. Not many-hem, hem,-not many, I thank heaven only a few rheumatic pains now and then, and a small catarrh that feizes me fometimes.

Lap. Ah, Sir, that's nothing: your catarrh fits very well upon you, and you cough with a very good grace. Love. But tell me, what does Mariana fay of my perfon?

Lap. She has a particular pleasure in talking of it; and I affure you, Sir, I have not been backward, on all fuch occafions, to blazon forth your merit, and to make her fenfible how advantageous a match you will be to her.

Love. You did very well, and I am obliged to you. Lap. But, Sir, I have a small favour to ask of you; -I have a law-fuit depending, which I am on the very brink of lofing for want of a little money, [He looks gravely.] and you could eafily procure my fuccefs, if

you

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