The Fine Lady's Airs (1709) Part 9

_Draw_. Yes, Sir.

_Shr_. What Wine does he drink?

_Draw_. Three and Six-penny, Sir.

_Shr_. I am his Servant, draw us the same.

_Tot._ Bring me some Sack. [_Exit Drawer._

_Shr._ Well, Master, what think you of _London_ now, is not the rattling of Coaches, the ringing of Bells, and the joyful Cry of _Great and good News from Holland_, preferrable to the Country, where you see nothing but Barns and Cow-houses, hear nothing but the grunting of Swine, and converse with nothing but the Justice, the Jack-daw, and your old Grand-mother.

_Tot._ Ay, marry is it, and if they ever get me there again, I'll give 'em leave to pickle and preserve me; here are Drums and Trumpets, Soldiers and Sempstresses, and fine Sights in ev'ry Street: In the Country we are glad to go four Miles to see a House o'fire. Nay, wou'd you believe it, we ha'n't so much as a Tavern in our Town; Gentlemen are forc'd to use Gammer _Grimes's_ Thatch'd Ale-house, except the Curate be with 'em, and then they smoke, and drink in the Vestry.

[_Drawer enters with Wine._

_Knap._ Come, Master, here's my hearty Service t'you.

_Tott._ Your hearty Servant thanks you, Sir--Mr. _Shrimp_, here's the Respects of a Gudgeon t'you.

_Shr._ Ah! you're an arch Wag.

_Tott._ But, pray, Mr. _Shrimp_, where may a body buy a little Wit, my Grand-mother charg'd me to get some; and, she says, bought Wit's best; 'tis a mighty scarce Commodity i'the Country; we have above two hundred Gentlemen near us that never heard on't. Our Chaplain has a little, but they say 'tis n't the right sort.

_Shr._ Mr. _Knapsack_ can furnish you with five or ten Pounds worth when you please.

_Knap._ Mr. _Shrimp_, Master, has a much better Stock, but that you may n't think I engross it to my self, as they say _Bull_ does Coffee, what I have is at your Service.

_Tott._ Sir, my Service t'you again, [_drinks_] This is much better than _Lincoln_ Ale, fegs.

_Knap._ What think you now, Master, of a pretty Wench to towze a little?

_Tott_. He, he, he, [_grins_] I don't know what you mean, Sir.

_Knap_. Had you never any pleasant Thoughts o'the Fair s.e.x.

_Tott_. I never lay with any Body but my Grand-mother; when she was in a good humour, she'd tickle a Body sometimes, but if she never meddl'd mith me, I never meddl'd with her.

_Knap_. A sapless old Hen, you might as well have lain with a Paring-Shovel; but what think you of a young Woman, that's warm, tender and inviting.

_Shr_. By this Light, here's _Betty_ the Orange Woman from the Play-house.

_Enter_ Betty. [_They_ rise

_Bett_. Ah! you Devils are you here, why did n't you come into the Pit to night, and eat an Orange,--who have you got with you, by my lost Maidenhead, a meer Country Widgeon, you sly Toads will bubble him finely; let me go snacks, or I'll discover it. Come, Fellows, drink about; positively it's very cold, fitting so behind at the Box Doors.

_Shr_. Honest _Betty_, here's Success to thee in ev'ry thing.

_Bett_. Ay, Faith, but there's little to do this Winter yet, now the Officers are come over, I hope, to have full Trade; I have had but one poor s.h.i.+lling giv'n me to Night, and that was for carrying a Note from a Baronet in the Side Box to a Citizens Wife in the Gall'ry; but there was no harm in't, 'twas only to treat with her here by and by, about borrowing a hundred Pound of her Husband upon the Reversion of a Parsonage.

[_To_ Knap.] Red Coat your Inclinations. [_To_ Tott.] Sir, prosperity t'you, you are got into hopeful Company.

_Tott_. Thank you, Mrs. _Betty._

_Shr_. Prithee _Betty_ give us a Song.

_Bett_. A Song, Pigsneyes, why, I have been roaring all Night with Six _Temple_ Rakes at the _Dog_ and _Partridge_ Tavern in _Wild-street_, and am so hoa.r.s.e I cou'd not sing a Line, were the whole Town to subscribe for me.

_Knap_. Take t'other Gla.s.s, _Betty_.

_Bett_. T'other Gla.s.s, Fellow, by the Bishop of _Munster_, these Puppies have a Design upon me! but give it me, however, for all that know me, know I never baulk my Gla.s.s.

_Shr_. But the Song, the Song, _Betty_. [_She Sings_

SONG.

I.

_How happy are we, Who from Virtue are free, That curbing Disease of the Mind, Can indulge ev'ry Taste, Love where we like best, Not by dull Reputation confin'd_.

II.

_When were Young, fit to toy, Gay Delights we enjoy, And have Crouds of new Lovers wooing; When were old and decay'd, We procure for the Trade, Still in ev'ry Age we are doing_.

III.

_If a Cully we meet, We spend what we get Ev'ry Day, for the next never think, When we die, where we go, We have no Sense to know, For a Bawd always dies in drink_.

_Bett_. [_Aside to_ Shrimp.] Hark'e, Satan, where did you pick up this modest Youth; does he bleed?

_Shr_. Oh! abundantly.

_Bett_. That's well, dress him up, and send him _to Will_'s Coffee-House and he'll soon grow impudent. [_To_ Tott.] My dear, eat this Orange, and gi'me Half a Crown.

_Tott_. Half a Crown for an Orange! I can buy one in the Country for two Pence.

_Bett_. So you may in Town, lovely Swain, but ev'ry Smock I put upon my Back costs me nine s.h.i.+llings an Ell.

_Knap_. But tell us, _Betty_, what Intrigues are going forward, your publick Post brings you into a world of private Business, d'you know ever an amorous Lady that would present me with a hundred Guineas to oblige her?

_Bett_. Thee, Child, Lord starve thee, a Foot Soldier! one o'the Infantry, a Lady that's Fool enough to pay for her Pleasures, may provide her self better out o' the Guards.--Come, gi'me t'other b.u.mper, nothing's to be got here, I find, and I must run.

_Shr_. Why in such hast, _Betty_?

_Bett_. Haste, Creature, why the Fourth Act is just done, and t'other bold Beast will run away with all the Money.

_Knap_. Hark'e, _Bess_, don't stroddle over Peoples Backs so as you us'd to do.

_Bett_. Why, how now, Mr. Impudence, I think we do 'em too great an Honour, and whoever affronts me for it I'll have him kick'd as soon as the Play's over. [_Exit._

_Shr_. Come, my dear Boy, let's tope it about briskly; what think you of this La.s.s? is she not frank and free? If you had her in a Corner, she'd show you the way to _Lyme-house._