THE CONFEDERACY.

ACT 1. SCENE 1.

Covent-Garden. Enter Mrs. AMLET and Mrs. CLOGGIT, meeting.

Amlet.

GOOD morrow, neighbour; good morrow, neighbour Cloggit. How does all at your house this morning?

Clog. Thank you kindly, Mrs. Amlet, thank you kindly; how do you do, I pray ?

Am. At the old rate, neighbour, poor and honest: these are hard times, good lack.

Clog. If they are hard with you, what are they with us? You have a good trade going; all the great folks in town help you off with your merchandise.

Am. Yes, they do help us off with them indeed; they buy all.

Clog. And pay-
Am. For some.

Clog. Well, 'tis a thousand pities, Mrs. Amlet, they are not as ready at one as they are at 'tother; for, not to wrong them, they give very good rates.

Am. Oh, for that, let's do them justice, neighbour; they never make two words upon the price; all they haggle about is the day of payment.

Clog. There's all the dispute, as you say.

Am. But that's a wicked one. For my part, neighbour, I'm just tired off my legs with trotting after them; besides, it eats out all our profit. Would you believe it, Mrs. Cloggit, I have worn out four pair of pattens with following my old Lady Youthful for one set of false teeth, and but three pots of paint. Clog. Look you there now !

Am. If they would but once let me get enough by 'em, to keep a coach to carry me a dunning after 'em, there would be some conscience in it.'

Clog. Ay, that were something. But, now you talk of conscience, Mrs. Amlet, how do you speed amongst your city customers?

My

Am. My city customers! Now, by my truth, neighbour, between the city and the court (with reverence be it spoken), there's not a to choose. ladies in the city, in times past, were as full of gold as they were of religion, and as punctual in their payments as they were in their prayers; but since they have set their minds upon quality, adieu one! adieu 'tother! their money and their consciences are gone, Heaven knows where. "There is not a gold"smith's wife to be found in town, but's as hard

“hearted as an ancient judge, and as poor as a tower. "ing duchess.”

Clog. But what the murrain have they to do with quality? Why don't their husbands make them mind their shops?

Am. Their husbands! their husbands, say'st thou, woman? Alack, alack, they mind their husbands, neighbour, no more than they do a sermon I

Clog. Good lack-a day, that women born of sober parents should be prone to follow ill examples! But, now we talk of quality, when did you hear of your son Richard, Mrs. Amlet? My daughter Flipp says she met him 'tother day, in a laced coat, with three fine ladies, his footman at his heels, and as gay as a bridegroom.

Am. Is it possible? Ah, the rogue! Well, neighbour, all's well that ends well; but Dick will be hanged.

Clog. That were pity.

Am. Pity, indeed; for he's a hopeful young man to look on; but he leads a life-Well, where he has it, Heaven knows; but, they say, he pays his club with the best of them. I have seen him but once these three months, neighbour, and then the varlet wanted money; but I bid him march, and march he did, to some purpose; for, in less than an hour, back comes my gentleman into the house, walks to and fro in the room, with his wig over his shoulder, his hat on one side, whistling a minuet, and tossing a purse of gold from one hand to t'other, with

no more respect, Heaven bless us! than if it had been an orange. Sirrah, says I, where have you got that? He answers me never a word, but sets his arms a-kimbo, cocks his saucy hat in my face, turns about upon his ungracious heel, as much as to say, kiss

and I've never set eye on him since.

Clog. Look you there now! To see what the youth of this age are come to !

Am. See what they will come to, neighbour. Heaven shield, I say; but Dick's upon the gallop. Well, I must bid you good morrow; I'm going where I doubt I shall meet but a sorry welcome.

Clog. To get in some old debt, I'll warrant you? Am. Neither better nor worse.

Clog. From a lady of quality?

Am. No, she's but a scrivener's wife; but she lives as well, and pays as ill, as the state liest countess of them all. [Exeunt several ways.

Enter BRASS.

Brass. Well, surely, through the world's wide extent, there never appeared so impudent a fellow as my schoolfellow, Dick. To pass himself upon the town for a gentleman, drop into all the best company with an easy air, as if his natural element were in the sphere of quality; when the rogue had a kettle-drum to his father, who was hanged for robbing a church; and has a pedlar to his mother, who carries her shop under hér arm. But here he comes. :

Enter DICK.

Dick. Well, Brass, what news? Hast thou given my letter to Flippanta ?

Brass. I'm but just come; I ha'n't knocked at the door yet. But I've a damn'd piece of news for you. Dick. As how?

Brass. We must quit this country.

Dick. We'll be hang'd first.

Brass. So you will, if you stay.
Dick. Why, what's the matter?
Brass. There's a storm a-coming.
Dick. From whence?

Brass. From the worst point in the compass, the

law.

Dick. The law! Why, what have I to do with the law?

Brass. Nothing; and therefore it has something to do with you.

Dick. Explain.

Brass. You know you cheated a young fellow at piquet t'other day of the money he had to raise his company.

Dick. Well, what then?

Brass. Why, he's sorry he lost it.

Dick. Who doubts that?

Brass. Ay, but that's not all; he's such a fool to

think of complaining on't.

Dick. Then I must be so wise to stop his mouth. Brass. How?