The Works of Aphra Behn - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iv Part 69 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
_Friend._ He was a _Leicestershire_ younger Brother, came over with a small Fortune, which his Industry has increas'd to a thousand Pounds a year; and he is now Colonel _John Surelove_, and one of the Council.
_Haz._ Enough.
_Friend._ About it then, Madam _Flirt_ to direct you.
_Haz._ You are full of your Madams here.
_Friend._ Oh! 'tis the greatest Affront imaginable to call a Woman Mistress, though but a retail Brandy-monger. Adieu.--One thing more, to morrow is our Country-Court, pray do not fail to be there, for the rarity of the Entertainment: but I shall see you anon at _Surelove's_, where I'll salute thee as my first meeting, and as an old Acquaintance in _England_--here's Company, farewel.
[Exit _Friend_.
Enter _Dullman_, _Timorous_ and _Boozer_. _Hazard_ sits at a Table and writes.
_Dull._ Here, _Nell_--Well, Lieutenant _Boozer_, what are you for?
Enter _Nell_.
_Booz._ I am for cooling _Nants_, Major.
_Dull._ Here, _Nell_, a Quart of _Nants_, and some Pipes and Smoke.
_Tim._ And do ye hear, _Nell_, bid your Mistress come in to joke a little with us; for, adzoors, I was d.a.m.nable drunk last Night, and I am better at the Petticoat than the Bottle to day.
[Exit _Nell_.
_Dull._ Drunk last Night, and sick to Day! how comes that about, Mr.
Justice? you use to bear your Brandy well enough.
_Tim._ Ay, your shier Brandy I'll grant you; but I was drunk at Col.
_Downright's_ with your high Burgundy Claret.
_Dull._ A Pox of that paulter Liquor, your _English French_ Wine, I wonder how the Gentlemen do to drink it.
_Tim._ Ay, so do I, 'tis for want of a little _Virginia_ Breeding: how much more like a Gentleman 'tis, to drink as we do, brave edifying Punch and Brandy.--But they say, the young n.o.blemen now, and Sparks in _England_, begin to reform, and take it for their Mornings draught, get drunk by Noon, and despise the lousy Juice of the Grape.
Enter Mrs. _Flirt_, and _Nell_, with drink, pipes, etc.
_Dull._ Come, Landlady, come, you are so taken up with Parson _Dunce_, that your old Friends can't drink a Dram with you.--What, no s.m.u.tty Catch now, no Gibe or Joke to make the Punch go down merrily, and advance Trading? Nay, they say, Gad forgive ye, you never miss going to Church when Mr. _Dunce_ preaches,--but here's to you.
[Drinks.
_Flirt._ Lords, your Honours are pleas'd to be merry-- but my service to your Honour.
[Drinks.
_Haz._ Honours! who the Devil have we here? some of the wise Council at least, I'd sooner take 'em for Hoggerds.
[Aside.
_Flirt._ Say what you please of the Doctor, but I'll swear he's a fine Gentleman, he makes the prettiest Sonnets, nay, and sings 'em himself to the rarest Tunes.
_Tim._ Nay, the Man will serve for both Soul and Body; for they say he was a Farrier in _England_, but breaking, turn'd Life-guard-man, and his Horse dying, he counterfeited a Deputation from the Bishop, and came over here a substantial Orthodox. But come, where stands the Cup? Here, my service to you, Major.
_Flirt._ Your Honours are pleased,--but methinks Doctor _Dunce_ is a very edifying Person, and a Gentleman, and I pretend to know a Gentleman; for I my self am a Gentlewoman: my Father was a Baronet, but undone in the late Rebellion, and I am fain to keep an Ordinary now, Heaven help me.
_Tim._ Good lack, why, see how Virtue may be bely'd. We heard your Father was a Taylor, but trusting for old _Oliver's_ Funeral broke, and so came hither to hide his Head.--But my service to you; what, you are never the worse?
_Flirt._ Your Honour knows this is a scandalous place, for they say your Honour was but a broken Excise-Man, who spent the King's Money to buy your Wife fine Petticoats; and at last not worth a Groat, you came over a poor Servant, though now a Justice of the Peace, and of the Honourable Council.
_Tim._ Adz zoors, if I knew who 'twas said so, I'd sue him for _Scandalum Magnatum_.
_Dull._ Hang 'em, Scoundrels, hang 'em, they live upon Scandal, and we are Scandal-proof.--They say too, that I was a Tinker, and running the Country, robb'd a Gentleman's House there, was put into _Newgate_, got a Reprieve after Condemnation, and was transported hither; --and that you, _Boozer_, was a common Pick-pocket, and being often flogg'd at the Carts-tale, afterwards turn'd Evidence, and when the Times grew honest was fain to flie.
_Booz._ Ay, ay, Major, if Scandal would have broke our Hearts, we had not arriv'd to the Honour of being Privy-Counsellors.--But come, Mrs.
_Flirt_, what, never a Song to entertain us?
_Flirt._ Yes, and a Singer too newly come ash.o.r.e.
_Tim._ Adz zoors, let's have it then.
Enter a Girl who sings, they bear the Bob.
_Haz._ Here, Maid, a Tankard of your Drink.
_Flirt._ Quickly, _Nell_, wait upon the Gentleman.
_Dull._ Please you, Sir, to taste of our Liquor.--My service to you.
I see you are a Stranger, and alone; please you to come to our Table?
[He rises and comes.
_Flirt._ Come, Sir, pray sit down here; these are very honourable Persons, I a.s.sure you: This is Major _Dullman_, Major of his Excellency's own Regiment, when he arrives; this Mr. _Timorous_, Justice a Peace in _Corum_; this Captain _Boozer_, all of the honourable Council.
_Haz._ With your leave, Gentlemen. [Sits.
_Tim._ My service to you, Sir. [Drinks.
What, have you brought over any Cargo, Sir? I'll be your Customer.
_Booz._ Ay, and cheat him too, I'll warrant him. [Aside.
_Haz._ I was not bred to Merchandizing, Sir, nor do intend to follow the drudgery of Trading.
_Dull._ Men of Fortune seldom travel hither, Sir, to see Fashions.
_Tim._ Why, Brother, it may be the Gentleman has a mind to be a Planter; will you hire your self to make a Crop of Tobacco this Year?
_Haz._ I was not born to work, Sir.
_Tim._ Not work, Sir! Zoors, your Betters have workt, Sir. I have workt my self, Sir, both set and stript Tobacco, for all I am of the honourable Council. Not work, quoth a!--I suppose, Sir, you wear your Fortune upon your Back, Sir?
_Haz._ Is it your Custom here, Sir, to affront Strangers? I shall expect Satisfaction.
[Rises.
_Tim._ Why, does any body here owe you any thing?