SCENE, an Alehouse Room.

Several shabby fellows,

with punch and tobacco. TONY at the head of the table, a little higher than the rest; a mallet in his hand.

Omnes.

Hurrea! hurrea! hurrea! bravo!

First Fellow.

Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The 'squire is going to knock himself down for a song.

Aye, a song, a song!

Omnes.

Tony.

Then I'll sing you, gentleman, a song I made upon this alehouse, The Three Pigeons.

SONG.

Let school-masters puzzle their brain,

With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;

Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,

Gives genus a better discerning.

Let them brag of their heathenish gods,
Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians;
Their qui's, and their quæ's, and their quod's,
They're all but a parcel of pigeons.

Toroddle, Toroddle, toroll.

When methodist preachers come down, A-preaching that drinking is sinful, wager the rascals a crown,

I'll

They always preach best with a skinful. But when you come down with your pence, For a slice of their scurvy religion,

11 leave it to all men of sense,

But you my good friend are the pigeon.

Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.

Then come put the jorum about,

And let us be merry and clever,

Our hearts and our liquors are stout,
Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons for ever.
Let some cry up woodcock or hare,

Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons; But of all the gay birds in the air,

Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons.

I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never gives us nothing that's low.

Third Fellow.

O damn any thing that's low, I cannot bear it.

Fourth Fellow.

The genteel thing is the genteel thing at any time. If so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly.

Third Fellow.

I like the maxum of it, Master Muggins. What, though I am obligated to dance a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all that. May this be my poison if my bear ever dances but to the very genteelest of tunes : "Water Parted," or "The minuet in Ariadne."

Second Fellow.

What a pity it is the 'squire is not come to his own. It would be well for all the publicans within ten miles round of him.

Tony.

Ecod, and so it would, Master Slang. I'd then shew what it was to keep choice company.

Second Fellow.

To be sure

O he takes after his own father for that. old 'squire Lumpkin was the finest gentleman I ever set my eyes on. For winding the straight horn, or beating the thicket for a hare, or a wench, he never had his fellow. It was a saying in the place, that he kept the best horses, dogs, and girls in the whole county.

Tony.

Ecod, and when I'm of age, I'll be no bastard, I promise you. I have been thinking of Bett Bouncer and the miller's grey mare to begin with. But come, my boys, drink about and be merry, for you pay no reckoning. Well Stingo, what's the matter?

Enter LANDLORD.

Landlord.

There be two gentlemen in a post-chaise at the door. They have lost their way upo'.the forest; and they are talking something about Mr. Hardcastle.

Tony.

As sure as can be, one of them must be the gentleman that's coming down to court my sister. Do they seem to be Londoners?

I believe they may.

Frenchmen.

Landlord.

They look woundily like

Tony.

Then desire them to step this way, and I'll set them right in a twinkling. (Exit Landlord.) Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough company for you, step down for a moment, and I'll be with you in the squeezing of a lemon. [Exeunt mob.

Tony (alone)

Father-in-law has been calling me whelp and houndthis half year. Now, if I pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old grumbletonian. But then I'm afraid-afraid of what! I shall soon be worth fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out of that if he can.

Enter LANDLORD, conducting MARLOW and

HASTINGS.

Marlow.

What a tedious uncomfortable day have we had of it! We were told it was but forty miles across the country, and we have come above threescore.

Hastings.

And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable reserve of yours, that would not let us inquire more frequently on the way.

Marlow.

I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay myself under an obligation to every one I meet; and often stand the chance of an unmannerly answer.

Hastings.

At present however we are not likely to receive any

answer.

Tony.

No offence, gentlemen. But I'm told you have been enquiring for one Mr. Hardcastle in these parts. Do you know what part of the country you are in?

Hastings.

Not in the least, Sir, but should thank you for in-formation.

Tony.

Nor the way you came ?

Hastings.

No, Sir? but if you can inform us

Tony.

Why, gentlemen, if you know neither the road you are going, nor where you are, nor the road you came, the first thing I have to inform you is, that-you have lost your way.

Marlow.

We wanted no ghost to tell us that.

Tony.

Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold as to ask the place from whence you came?

Marlow.

That's not necessary towards directing us where we are to go.

Tony.

No offence; but question for question is all fair, you know. Pray, gentleman, is not this same Hardcastle a cross-grain❜d, old-fashion'd, whimsical fellow, with an ugly face; a daughter, and a pretty son?

Hastings.

We have not seen the gentleman, but he has the family you mention.

Tony.

The daughter a tall, trapesing, trolloping, talkative maypole the son, a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that every body is fond of.

Marlow.

Our information differs in this. The daughter is said to be well-bred and beautiful; the son, an aukward booby, reared up and spoiled at his mother's apronstring.