LOVE-A-LA-MOD E, CHARACTERS. betook myfelf to the drinking of the Bath, Dec. 24. Sir Callaghan o`Brallaghan, Mr. Shuter. ACT I. SCENE I. WHAT will the world fay of me, but that I was a very imprudent man?Char. The world! The world will apI am, &c. plaud you; efpecially, when they know what fort of lovers they are, and that the PHIL. FLETCHER." fole motive of their affection is the lady's To make DAUCUS or DAUCUS ALE. Take of the Daucus feeds nine ounces, raifins of the Sun eighteen ounces; put them into a bag, and hang in a vessel of fix gallons of good ale; after it is worked, and when fine, after eight days, drink three pints a day. To the above Remedy for this excruciating and dreadful Disorder, we shall add an other, recommended as a Specific by Mr. Blackrie, in a little Treatife just publifbed, entitled, A Difquifition on Medicines that diffolve the Stone; in which Dr. Chittick's Secret is confidered and difcovered. The following Prefeription Mr. Plackrie recommends from his own Experience. AKE eight ounces of pot-afh and the kiln, mix and put them into a glazed earthen velfel; then pour upon them a quart of boiling foft fpring-water; let the infufion remain twenty-four hours, ftirring it now and then, and afterwards filtrate it for use," May, 1766. fortune. No poor devil, fure, was ever Sir Theo. My dear Charlotte, you fhould not be fo fevere upon iny nephew. What can you expect from a mere rough his friends a volunteer, and has lived an. Sir Theo. Sir Callaghan O'Brallagh- truth out of five that he fays; and he Char. Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan; it is enough to choak one-If I have him, I must have an Irish interpreter to make me understand what he fays. Sir Theo. Well, I must go and fee about your fuit; the coach waits; they all dine here, I think. Char. All but Squire Groom, and he is to ride a match, that I fuppofe no charms could perfuade him to be abfent Sir Theo. Certainly. Mordecai enters finging. Mord. Thus let me pay my fofteft adoration; and thus, and thus, and thus, in amorous tranfports breathe my Jaft. [Kifing her hand.] Char. Not fo faft, Mr. Mordecai; you are very gallant, Sir; and I protest I never faw you better drest. Mord. It is well enough, Madam, just as my taylor fancies. Do you like it ? Char. Oh! it is quite elegant; but if I mittake not, you are fo remarkable for a tafte in dress, that you are known all over the city by the name of the ChangeAlley beau. Mord. They do diftinguifh me by that title; but I declare, I have not the vanity to think I deferve it. Char O, Mr. Mordecai, well remember'd! I heard of your amour at the opera with Mifs Sprightly. Mord. Dear Ma'am, how can you be fo fevere? That the lady has defigns, I ftedfaftly believe; but as for me -But, pray Ma'am, who told you? Char. Sir Archy Macfarcafm. Mord. Oh! what a creature have you named; the very abftract of filth and naftiness; he takes fuch a quantity of Scotch fnuff, that he fmells worse than a tallow-chandler's fhop in the Dog-days. Why, Madam, there is not one word of utters his fimilies at dinner with all the gravity imaginable, after the moderato allowance of four bottles of port, three ounces of Scotch fnuff, and twelve pipes of tobacco. Char. What a character bas he drawn of the knight ! Mord. Why, madam, I vow to God, he is the daily fport of every coffee-house in town: all his own countrymen of any character, conftantly avoid him, andOh! the devil-here he comes. [Sir Archy without.] Randall, bid Sawney bring the chariot at eight o'clock, exactly-[Enters.] Mord. My dear knight, I am fincerely glad to fee you, and have the honour at all times, and upon all occafions, to be your most obedient humble fervant. Sir Archy, What! my child of circumcifion. How do ye do, my bony Gergifite? Gie us a wag of your luff, lad; why, ye are as diligent in the fervice of your mistress as in the service of your looking-glafs, for your een and your thoughts are always turn'd upon the one or the other. Mord. And your wit, I find, Sir Archy, like a lawyer's tongue, will always retain its ufual politenefs. Char. Civil and witty on both fides; Sir Archy, your fervant. Sir Archy. Ten thousand pardons, madam, I did not obferve you; I hope I fee your ladyfhip weel. Ah! madam, you look like a di-veenity-I fee my friend Mordecai is determined to bear away the prize frae us a'; he is trick'd out in all the colours of the rainbow. Char. Mr. Mordecai is always well drefs'd, Sir Archy. Sir Archy. Upon my word, he is as fine as a jay. Step along mon, turn you round and let us fee your fhapes-Ah! he fkaits very weel, very weel indeed. What's this in his hat? A feather! very elegant, very elegant; I proteft, I never faw a tooth-drawer better drefs'd in all my life. Mord. Upon my word, I am your most humble fervant, Sir Archy. Char. But pray, what's become of my Irish lover, Sir Callaghan? 1 expected we fhould have had his company by this time. Sir Archy. Madam, I have him wi me; for I am like the monarchs of o-ld, I never 1766. I never travel without my fool; he is as good as a comedy or farce: but, he has made a jargon, which he ftiles a So-net, upon his bewitching Charlotte, as he calls you, madam. You have heard him fing it, Mordecai. Merd. I beg your pardon, Sir Archy, I have heard him roar it. Egad, we had him just now, madam, at a tavern, and made him give it us in an Irish howl that might be heard from here to Weft Chef ter. Sir Archy. Why, you have a devilish deal of wit, Mordecai. Mord. Your most obedient, Sir Archy, I am afraid you flatter me; but, I must be going-Madam, I kifs your hands. Char. You are not going to leave us, Mr. Mordecai? Mord. Only to have a flice of Sir Callaghan before dinner, by way of a whet, that's all, madam, only by way of a whet. Sir Archy. Not a word of the letter, mon. fear. Mord. Never fear, Sir Archy, never [Exit. Sir Archy. What a fantastical baboon this Ifraelite mak's of himself. you, madam, 'tis not for the pecuniary, Sir Archy. Befides, madam, gin you to our families of the North; there is as muckle difference as between a hound of blood and a mo-ngrel. The nobility of Scotland are defcended from renowned warriours and heroes of glorious atchievements; but here, in the South, you are a' fprung from nothing but brandy casks, tobacco hogsheads, and rum puncheons. in fhort, you are a fort of a strange amphibious breed; you are a compofition of Turks, Jews and Refugees. Char. He is very entertaining, Sir Archy. Sir Archy. The fellow's very ridicu-lies of the South are not to be compared lous, and therefore very useful in fociety; for, where ever he comes there must be laughter. But now, inadam, a word or two on our own matters; Madam, I love you, and gin I do-o not, I wou'd fcorn to fay it. Concerning thefe creatures who call themselves your lovers. This Mordecai is a reptile, a mere reptile; and then, Squire Groom, to be fure, he is my very good freend; but then, madam, he is a bagger, a mere bagger; and, as to Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan, the fellow is well enough to laugh at; but ye munna look about you there, for your guardian is his uncle; and, to my certain knowledge, there is a defign upon your fortune in that quarter; depend upon it, there is a defign upon your fortune. Char. I believe, indeed, a lady's fortune is the principal object of every lo ver. Sir Archy. I grant you, madam, with Char. We are indeed a strange mixture, Sir Archy. Sir Archy. Very true, very true; my family is a family of rank and co-niequence, that would purify your blood, which it is contaminated. and refine it from the drofs of trade, with Enter Mordecai. Mord. Sir Archy, he is juft without; he is coming. [Sir Callaghan without.] Is the lady and Sir Archy Macfarcafim this way, do you fay, young man? Servant. They are, Sir. Sir Sir Call. Then, I'll trouble you with no further ceremony. [Entering.] Madam, I am your molt obedient humble fervant. Char. I am forry to hear we fhall foon be depriv'd of your company, Sir Callaghan; I thought the war in Germany had been all over. Sir Call. Yes, madam, 'twas all over, but it began again; a foldier never lives in quiet till he has nothing to do, then he quits the field with more fafety. Sir Archy. The lady was juft faying, fhe would be glad if you would favour her with a flight narrative of what happened in Germany. Sir Call Pray, madam, don't ask me, I am afraid it would look like gafconading in me; and I will affure you, there is no fuch thing in nature as giving a defcription of a fiery battle, for there is fo much done every where, that no body knows what is done any where. Then, there is fuch drumming and trumpeting, and fuch delightful confusion altogether, that you can no more give an account of it than you can of the stars in the íky. Sir Archy. It is a very good account he gives of a battle. [to Mordecai afide.] -Let us smoke him, and fee if we can get a little fun with him-Try if he will give you fome account of the battle. Mord. Pray, Sir Callaghan, how many might you kill now, in any one battle you have been at ? I Sir Call. [faring.] I'll tell you. generally kill more in a battle, than any coward would chufe to look upon, cr than any impertinent fellow would be able to eat. Are you answered, Mr. Mordecai? Sir Archy. [Afide, to Mordecai.] You was devilish sharp upon hin, faith. Mord. Was not I? Sir Arthy. Yes, but have another cut at him. The Ifraelite will bring himself into a damnable ferape. [Afide.] Mord. Sir Callaghan, give me leave to tell you, if I was a general do of being high-priest to a synagogue; fo, hold your tongue, my dear Mr. Mordecai, about that, and go mind your cent. per cent, and your lottery tickets in Change-Alley. Sir Call. A general !—Upon my foul, and you would make a fine general-Madam, look on the general-Oh! Mr. Mordecai, do not look upon being a general as fo light a matter. It is a very difficult trade to learn, to be able to rejoice with danger on one fide and death on the other, and a great many more things that you know no more of than I Sir Archy. Ah! ah! by the Lord he has tickled up the Ifraelite; he has given it the Moabite on both fides of his lugs. Char. But you have been frequently in danger, Sir. Sir Call. Danger, madam, is the foldier's profeffion, and death is his best reward. Mord. A bull! a bull! Pray, how do you make that out? You fay, death is the foldier's best reward Sir Call. I'll tell you how; a general dead in the field of battle, is a monument of fame, that makes him as much alive as Cæfar or Alexander, or any dead hero of them all: And, when the hiftory of America comes to be written, there is your brave young general, that died in the field of battle before Quebec, will be alive to the end of the world. Char. True, Sir Callaghan; the actions of that great man, and those of his fellow-foldiers that day, will be remembered while Briton or British gratitude have a name. Sir Archy. Who was it did the business at Quebac? Ah! the Highlanders bore the bell that day. Had you but feen them with their Andrew Farraras, how they cut them, and flash'd them about; Oh! they made bonny work there. Sir Call. Sir Archy, give me your hand; I affure you, your countrymen are brave foldiers, and to are ours too. Char. I think I hear Sir Theodore's coach top. Enter Servant. Serv. Madam, Sir Theodore waits for you, and dinner is almost ready. Mord. Will you honour me, inadam, with the tip of your wedding finger? Adieu, Sir Callaghan; Sir Archy, your fervant; adieu, Sir Callaghan. Sir Archy and Sir Callaghan. Sir Call. A very impudent fellow, this Mr. Mordecai; if it had not been for the lady, I would have been a little upon the caree with him. Sir Archy. Because the rafcal has been let into our company at Bath, he introdes upon you wherever you go; but, have you written the letter to the lady? Sir Call. Faith, I have not; for I thought it would not be right to make my addreffes to the lady, till I had made my affections known to her guardian, fo I have indicted the letter to him. Sir Archy. That's right, that's right; for fo as you do but write, it matters not to whom but, where is it? Sir Call. Here it is. truth, because 'tis always partial; but, the Irish account, which must be true, becaufe 'twas written by one of my own family, fays, the Scotch are all Irifhmen's baftards. Sir Archy. Batards! baftards! What d'ye make us illegi-timate, illegitimate, Sir? Sir Call. Why, Little Terence, Flaher Sir Archy. I warrant 'tis a bo-nie ty O'Brallaghan, was the man who went epistle. Sir Call. Reads: “Sir, "As I have the honour to bear the "character of a foldier, and to call Sir "Theodore Goodchild uncle, I do not "think it would be consistent for a man "of honour to behave like a fcoundrel." [Sir Archy interrupting him.]-This is an excelient remark!-an excellent re mark!--and very new. "Therefore, I thought proper, before I proceeded any "further," (for I have done nothing as yet)" to open my mind to you, before I gain the affections of the lady." You fee, Sir Archy, I was for carrying on my approaches like a foldier, a la militaire, as we fay abroad. [Reading again] "You are fenfible, my family is as old "as any in the Three kingdoms, and "older too, I fhall therefore come to the "point at once." You fee I give him a little rub by way of a hint about our family, becaufe Sir Theodore is a bit of relation by the mother's fide only, which is a little upftart family that came in with one Strongbow t'other day, not above fix or feven hundred years ago. Now, my father's family are all related to the O. Shaughneffes, the O'Canahans, the O'Callaghans, and I myself am an O'Brallaghan, which is the oldeft of them all. Sir Archy, Yes, Sir, I believe ye are of a very antient family; but you are out in one point. Sir Call What's that, Sir Archy? Sir Archy. Why, Sir, where you faid you are as old as any family in the three kingdoins. Sir Call. Why, then, I faid no more than is true, Sir Archy. Sir Archy. Hoot awa' mun, ye dinna confider the families of the North: ye are meer outcafts frae us, and as fuch ye remain till this hour. over from Carrickfergus, and peopled all Scotland with his own hands. Sir Archy. Sir Callaghan, though your ignorance and va-nity would make ravithers of your ancestors, and harlots and Sabines of your mothers Sir Call. Hearkee, Sir Archy, What was that you faid just now about ignorance and vanity? Sir Archy. Sir, I denounce you both ignorant and vain; and, mak your most of it. Sir Call. Faith, I can make nothing at all of it, because they are not words that a gentleman is ufed to; therefore, you must unfay them, Sir Archy. Sir Archy. How, Sir! eat my words! A North Briton eat his words! Sir, you fhall eat a piece of this weapon firit[Draws.] Sir Call. Put up for fhame, Sir Archy; confider, drawing a fword is a very ferious piece of butinefs, and should be done in private. Sir Archy. Defend yourfelf; for, hy the facred crofs of St. Andrew, I'll have fatisfaction for making us illegitimate. Sir Call. Then, by the crook of St. Patrick, you are a very foolish man; but if you have a mind for a little of that fport, come away to the right fpot. Sir Archy. No equivocation, Sir; donna think you have gotten Beau Mordecai to cope with. Sir Call. Come on then, for the honour of the Sod--[Draws.] Oh! you are as welcome as the flowers in May[They fight.] Enter Charlotte. Char. For heaven's fake! What's the matter? What is all this about? Sir Call. 'Tis about Sir Archy's greatgrandmother, madam. Char. Sir Archy's great-grandinother! Sir Call. I beg your pardon, Sir, that's Sir Archy. Madam, he has caft an afhe Scotch account, which never fpeaks front upon a whole nation. |