A GENTLEMANLY CANING. LADY LUREWELL solus. Enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR. Sir H. "My life, my soul, my all that heaven can give !— Lady L. "Death's life with thee; without thee, death to live." Still brisk and airy, I find, Sir Harry. Sir H. The sight of you, madam, exults my air, and makes joy lighten in my face. Lady L. Would you marry me, Sir Harry? Sir H. Why, marriage is the devil!—But I will marry you. Lady L. Your word, sir, is not to be relied on. If a gentleman will forfeit his honour in dealings of business, we may reasonably suspect his fidelity in an amour. Sir H. My honour in dealings of business! —Why, madam, I never had any business all my life. Lady L. Yes, Sir Harry; I have heard a very odd story, and am sorry that a gentleman of your figure should undergo the scandal. Sir H. Out with it, madam. Lady L. Why, the merchant, sir, that transmitted your bills of exchange to you in France complains of some indirect and dishonourable dealings. Sir H. Who-old Smuggler? Lady L. Ay, ay, you know him, I find. Sir H. I have some reason, I think. Why, the rogue has cheated me of above £500 within these three years. Lady L. "Tis your business, then, to acquit yourself publicly, for he spreads the scandal everywhere. Sir H. Acquit myself publicly! Here, sirrah. Enter a Servant. My coach; I'll drive instantly into the city, and cane the old villain round the Royal Exchange. Lady L. Why, he is in the house now, sir. Sir H. Then, sirrah, lend me your cudgel. [Exit Servant. Lady L. Sir Harry, you won't raise a disturbance in the house? Sir H. Disturbance, madam! No, no; I'll beat him with the temper of a philosopher. Here, Mrs. Parley, show me the gentleman. [Exit with Parley. Lady L. Now shall I get the old monster well beaten, and Sir Harry pestered, next term, with bloodsheds, batteries, costs and damages, solicitors and attorneys. And if they don't tease him out of his good humour I'll never plot again. [Exit. Another Room in the Same House. Enter ALDERMAN SMUGGLER and SIR Sir H. Dear Mr. Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant. Ald. My best friend, Sir Harry, you're welcome to England. Sir H. I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions I am gladder to meet, dear, dear Mr. Alderman. [Bowing very low. Ald. Oh! lord, sir, you travellers have the most obliging ways with you. Sir H. There is a business, Mr. Alderman, fallen out, which you may oblige me infinitely by-I am very sorry that I am forced to be troublesome, but necessity, Mr. Alder man Ald. Ay, sir, as you say, necessity - But upon my word, sir, I am very short of money at present; but Sir H. That's not the matter, sir; I'm above an obligation that way; but the business is, I'm reduced to an indispensable necessity of being obliged to you for a beating. Here, take this cane. Ald. A beating, Sir Harry! Ha, ha, ha! I beat a knight baronet! An alderman turned cudgel-player! Ha, ha, ha! Sir H. Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or I'll beat you; take your choice. Ald. Psha, psha! You jest. Sir H. Nay, 'tis sure as fate; so, alderman, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. [Strikes him. Ald. Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir! What d'ye mean? Sir H. Nothing at all. I'm but in jest, sir. Ald. Oh! I can take anything in jest; but a man might imagine, by the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest. Sir H. Not in the least, sir (strikes him)— not in the least, indeed, sir. Ald. Pray, good sir, no more of your jests; for they are the bluntest jests that ever I knew. Sir H. I heartily beg your pardon, with all my heart, sir. [Strikes him. Ald. Pardon, sir! Well, sir, that is satis faction enough from a gentleman. But seriously, now, if you pass any more of your jests upon me I shall grow angry. Sir H. I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more. [Strikes him. Ald. Oh! lord, sir, you'll break my bones. Are you mad, sir? Murder, felony, manslaughter. [Falls down. Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons, but I am absolutely compelled to't, upon my honour, sir. Nothing can be more averse to my inclinations than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend the alderman. [Striking him all this while. Alderman tumbles over and over, shakes out his pocket-book on the floor. Enter LADY LUREWELL, and takes it up. Lady L. The old rogue's pocket-book; this may be of use. (Aside.) Oh! lord, Sir Harry's murdering the poor old man. Ald. Oh! dear madam, I was beaten in jest till I am murdered in good earnest. Lady L. Well, well, I'll bring you off, seigneur frappez, frappez! Ald. Oh! for charity's sake, madam, rescue a poor citizen. Lady L. Oh! you barbarous man! Holdhold! frappez plus rudement. Frappez! I wonder you are not ashamed. (Holding Sir H.) A poor reverend honest elder. (Helps Ald. up.) It makes me weep to see him in this condition, poor man! Now, deuce take you, Sir Harry-for not beating him harder. Well, my dear, you shall come at night, and I'll make you amends. [Here Sir H. takes snuff. Ald. Madam, I will have amends before I leave the place. Sir, how durst you use me thus? THE COUNTERFEIT FOOTMAN. (FROM "THE BEAUX' STRATAGEM.") SCRUB, a Footman, and ARCHER, a Supposed Footman. Enter MRS. SULLEN and DORINDA. [They walk to the opposite side. Mrs. S. drops her fan; Archer runs, takes it up, and gives it to her. Arch. Madam, your ladyship's fan. Mrs. S. Oh, sir, I thank you. What a handsome bow the fellow made! Dor. Bow! Why, I have known several footmen come down from London, set up here as dancing-masters, and carry off the best fortunes in the country. Arch. (Aside.) That project, for aught I Brother know, had been better than ours. Scrub, why don't you introduce me? Scrub. Ladies, this is the strange gentleman's servant, that you saw at church to-day; I understand he came from London, and so I invited him to the cellar, that he might show me the newest flourish in whetting my knives. Dor. And I hope you have made much of him. Arch. Oh, yes, madam; but the strength of your ladyship's liquor is a little too potent for the constitution of your humble servant. Mrs. S. What! then you don't usually drink ale? Arch. No, madam; my constant drink is tea, or a little wine and water: 'tis prescribed me by the physicians, for a remedy against the spleen. Scrub. Oh, la! Oh, la! A footman have the spleen! Mrs. S. I thought that distemper had been only proper to people of quality. Arch. Madam, like all other fashions it wears out, and so descends to their servants; though, in a great many of us, I believe, it proceeds from some melancholy particles in the blood, occasioned by the stagnation of Arch. Not long; my life has been mostly spent in the service of the ladies. Mrs. S. And, pray, which service do you like best? Arch. Madam, the ladies pay best; the honour of serving them is sufficient wages; [Exit. there is a charm in their looks that delivers a pleasure with their commands, and gives our duty the wings of inclination. Mrs. S. That flight was above the pitch of a livery: and, sir, would you not be satisfied to serve a lady again? Arch. As groom of the chamber, madam, but not as a footman. Mrs. S. I suppose you served as footman before? Arch. For that reason, I would not serve in that post again; for my memory is too weak for the load of messages that the ladies lay upon their servants in London. My Lady Howd'ye, the last mistress I served, called me up one morning, and told me, "Martin, go to my Lady Allnight, with my humble service; tell her I was to wait on her ladyship yesterday, and left word with Mrs. Rebecca, that the preliminaries of the affair she knows of are stopped, till we know the concurrence of the person I know of, for which there are circumstances wanting, which we shall accommodate at the old place; but that, in the meantime, there is a person about her ladyship, that, from several hints and surmises, was accessory at a certain time to the disappointment that naturally attend things, that to her knowledge are of more importance Scrub. Brother Martin! brother Martin! FATHER AND SON. (FROM "THE INCONSTANT.") [Old Mirabel, guardian of Oriana, to whom his son young Mirabel was engaged. However, three years' absence changes him, and although he loves Oriana he has formed a resolution never to marry. Dugard is brother to Oriana, and Petit her page.] Enter OLD and YOUNG MIRABEL, meeting. Old Mir. Are not you a great rogue, sirrah? Y. Mir. That's a little out of my comprehension, sir; for I've heard say that I resemble my father. Old Mir. Your father is your very humble slave. I tell thee what, child, thou art a very pretty fellow, and I love thee heartily; and a Mrs. S. and Dor. Ha, ha! Where are you very great villain, and I hate thee mortally. going, sir? Arch. Why, I hav'n't half done. Y. Mir. Villain, sir! Then I must be a very impudent one; for I can't recollect any pas Scrub. I should not remember a quarter sage of my life that I'm ashamed of. of it. Arch. The whole howd'ye was about half an hour long; I happened to misplace two syllables, and was turned off, and rendered incapable Old Mir. Come hither, my dear friend; dost see this picture? [Shows him a little picture. Y. Mir. Oriana's? Psha! Old Mir. What, sir, won't you look upon't? Bob, dear Bob, pr'ythee come hither, now. Dost want any money, child? Y. Mir. No, sir. Old Mir. Why then, here's some for thee: come here now. How canst thou be so hardhearted an unnatural, unmannerly rascal (don't mistake me, child, I a'n't angry), as to abuse this tender, lovely, good-natured, dear Dor. There's a main point gained. My lord rogue? Why, she sighs for thee, and cries for is not married, I find. Mrs. S. But I wonder, friend, that in so many good services you had not a better provision made for you. thee, pouts for thee, and snubs for thee; the poor little heart of it is like to burst. Come, my dear boy, be good-natured, like your own father; be now; and then, see here, read this; Arch. I don't know how, madam; I am the effigies of the lovely Oriana, with thirty very well as I am. Mrs. S. Something for a pair of gloves. [Offering him money. Arch. I humbly beg leave to be excused. My master, madam, pays me; nor dare I take money from any other hand without injuring his honour and disobeying his commands. thousand pounds to her portion!-thirty Y. Mir. Will you hear me speak, sir? thirty thousand tongues, you could not outtalk thirty thousand pounds, sir. Y. Mir. Nay, sir, if you won't hear me, I'll begone, sir: I'll take post for Italy, this moment. Old Mir. Ah, the fellow knows I won't part with him! Well, sir, what have you to say? Y. Mir. The universal reception, sir, that marriage has had in the world, is enough to fix it for a public good, and to draw every body into the common cause; but there are some constitutions, like some instruments, so peculiarly singular, that they make tolerable music by themselves, but never do well in a concert. : Old Mir. Why, this is reason, I must confess but yet it is nonsense, too, for though you should reason like an angel, if you argue yourself out of a good estate, you talk like a fool. Y. Mir. But, sir, if you bribe me into bondage with the riches of Croesus, you leave me but a beggar, for want of my liberty. Old Mir. Was ever such a perverse fool heard? 'Sdeath, sir! why did I give you education? was it to dispute me out of my senses? Of what colour, now, is the head of this cane? You'll say, 'tis white, and, ten to one, make me believe it too. I thought that young fellows studied to get money. Y. Mir. No, sir, I have studied to despise it; my reading was not to make me rich, but happy, sir. Old Mir. Lookye, friend, you may persuade me out of my designs, but I'll command you out of yours; and though you may convince my reason that you are in the right, yet there is an old attendant of sixty-three, called Positiveness, which you, nor all the wits of Italy, shall ever be able to shake: so, sir, you're a wit, and I'm a father: you may talk, but I'll be obeyed. Y. Mir. This it is to have the son a finer gentleman than the father; they first give us breeding, that they don't understand; then they turn us out of doors, because we are wiser than themselves. But I'm a little beforehand with the old gentleman. (Aside.) Sir, you have been pleased to settle a thousand pounds sterling a year upon me; in return for which, I have a very great honour for you and your family, and shall take care that your only and beloved son shall do nothing to make him hate his father, or to hang himself. So, dear sir, I'm your very humble servant. [Runs off. Old Mir. Here, sirrah! rogue! Bob! villain! Enter DUGard. Dug. Ah, sir! 'tis but what he deserves. Old Mir. /'Tis false, sir! he don't deserve it: what have you to say against my boy, sir! Dug. I shall only repeat your own words. Old Mir. What have you to do with my words? I have swallowed my words already; I have eaten them up. I say, that Bob's an honest fellow, and who dares deny it? Dug. Come, sir, 'tis no time for trifling: my sister is abused; you are made sensible of the affront, and your honour is concerned to see her redressed. Old Mir. Lookye, Mr. Dugard, good words go farthest. I will do your sister justice, but it must be after my own rate; nobody must abuse my son but myself; for, although Robin be a sad dog, yet he's nobody's puppy but my own. [Old Mirabel and Oriana cause the report to be circulated that she is about to be married to a Spanish nobleman, with a view to stimulate Young Mirabel by jealousy. Old Mirabel personates the nobleman.] YOUNG MIRABEL solus. Enter OLD MIRABEL, dressed in a Spanish habit, leading Oriana. Oriana. Good, my lord, a nobler choice had better suited your lordship's merit. My person, rank, and circumstance expose me as the public theme of raillery, and subject me so to injurious usage, my lord, that I can lay no claim to any part of your regard, except your pity. Old Mir. Breathes he vital air that dares presume, With rude behaviour, to profane such excellence? Show me the man And you shall see how my sudden revenge Shall fall upon the head of such presumption. Is this thing one? [Strutting up to Y. Mir. Y. Mir. Sir! Oriana. Good, my lord,Old Mir. If he, or any he,Oriana. Pray, my lord, the gentleman's a stranger. Old Mir. O, your pardon, sir, but if you had-remember, sir, the lady now is mine, her injuries are mine; therefore, sir, you understand me.— -Come, madam. [Leads Oriana to the door; she goes off; Young Mirabel runs to his father, and pulls him by the sleeve. Y. Mir. Ecoutez, Monsieur le Count. Y. Mir. Boh! Old Mir. Boh! what language is that, sir? Old Mir. What d'ye mean? Y. Mir. By all means, sir. (Takes away his sword.) Now, seigneur, where's that bombast look, and fustian face, your countship wore just now? [Strikes him. Old Mir. The rogue quarrels well, very well; my own son right! But hold, sirrah, no more jesting; I'm your father, sir! your father! Y. Mir. My father! Then, by this light, I could find in my heart to pay thee. (Aside.) Is the fellow mad? Why, sure, sir, I ha'n't frighted you out of your senses? Old Mir. But you have, sir! Y. Mir. Then I'll beat them into you again. [Offers to strike him. Old Mir. Why, rogue !- Bob, dear Bob! don't you know me, child? Y. Mir. Ha, ha, ha! the fellow's downright distracted! Thou miracle of impudence! wouldst thou make me believe that such a grave gentleman as my father would go a masquerading thus? That a person of threescore and three would run about, in a fool's coat, to disgrace himself and family? why, you impudent villain, do you think I will suffer such an affront to pass upon my honoured father, my worthy father, my dear father? 'Sdeath, sir! mention my father but once again, and I'll send your soul to thy grandfather this minute! [Offering to stab him. Old Mir. Well, well, I am not your father. Y. Mir. Why, then, sir, you are the saucy, hectoring Spaniard, and I'll use you accordingly. Enter DUGARD, ORIANA, Maid, and PETIT. [Dugard runs to Young Mirabel, the rest to Old Mirabel. Dug. Fie, fie, Mirabel! murder your father! Y. Mir. My father? What, is the whole family mad? Give me way, sir; I won't be held. Old Mir. No, nor I either; let me begone, [Offering to go. pray. Y. Mir. My father! Old Mir. Ay, you dog's face! I am your father, for I have borne as much for thee as your mother ever did. Y. Mir. O ho! then this was a trick, it seems, a design, a contrivance, a stratagem! Oh, how my bones ache! Old Mir. Your bones, sirrah! why yours? Y. Mir. Why, sir, ha'n't I been beating my own flesh and blood all this while? O,madam. (To Oriana.) I wish your ladyship joy of your new dignity. Here was a contrivance, indeed! [Oriana, after other plots, which fail to effect a conquest of Young Mirabel, goes into his service disguised as a page and saves his life. His gratitude and love at length conquer his prejudice against marriage, and to his father's delight he confesses himself in the wrong and marries Oriana.] HENRY DODWELL. BORN 1641-DIED 1711. plague there, died at Waterford. His mother following his father with the same business in view, fell into a consumption, and soon after died in the house of her brother Sir Henry Slingsby. Left thus without his parents [Henry Dodwell was born in Dublin in | look after his property, and, catching the October, 1641, whither his mother had fled for refuge on the breaking out of the rebellion in that year. For the first six years of his life he remained in the city of his birth, but early in 1648 his parents carried him with them to England. Soon after this he was placed in a school at York, where he remained for five years, and where, says one of his biographers, "he laid the foundation of that great learning which he afterwards acquired." While he was at York his father returned to Ireland to Dodwell was so reduced in circumstances that he could not procure pens and ink for the purposes of study, and began to use charcoal instead. He also suffered much even in such necessary matters as food and lodging. In 1654, while struggling on, a mere boy, in |