ACT II.

Sir LUKE.

In his own coach did you say?

SERVANT.

Yes, Sir.

Sir LUKE.

With the coronets—or—

SERVANT.

I believe so.

Sir LUKE.

There's no resisting of that.—Bid Joe run to Sir Gregory Goose's.

SERVANT.

He is already gone to alderman Inkle's.

Sir LUKE.

Then do you step to the Knight—hey!—no—you must go to my Lord's—hold, hold, no—I have it—Step first to Sir Greg's, then pop in at Lord Brentford's just as the company are going to dinner.

SERVANT.

What shall I say to Sir Gregory?

Sir LUKE.

Any thing—what I told you before.

SERVANT.

And what to my Lord?

Sir LUKE.

What!—Why tell him that my uncle from Epsom—no—that won't do, for he knows I don't care a farthing for him—hey!—Why tell him—hold I have it—Tell him, that as I was going into my chair to obey his commands, I was arrested by a couple of bailiffs, forced into a hackney coach, and carried to the Py'd Bull in the Borough; I beg ten thousand pardons for making his grace wait, but his grace knows my misfor——

[Exit SirLuke.

CHARLOT.

Well, Sir, what dy'e think of the proofs? I flatter myself I have pretty well established my case.

SERJEANT.

Why, hussy, you have hit upon points; but then they are but trifling flaws, they don't vitiate the title, that stands unimpeach'd; and—But, madam, your mother.

Enter Mrs.Circuit.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

What have you done with the Knight?—Why you have not let him depart?

CHARLOT.

It was not in my power to keep him.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

I don't wonder at that; but what took him away?

CHARLOT.

What will at any time take him away—a Duke at the door.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Are you certain of that?

SERJEANT.

Why truly, chuck, his retreat was rather precipitate for a man that is just going to be marry'd.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

The prospect of marriage does not always prove the strongest attachment.

SERJEANT.

Pardon me, lovee; the law allows no higher consideration than marriage.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Pshaw!

SERJEANT.

Insomuch, that if duke A was to intermarry with chambermaid B, difference of condition would prove no bar to the settlement.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Indeed!

SERJEANT.

Ay; and this was held to be law by Chief-baron Bind'em, on the famous case of the Marquis of Cully, and Fanny Flip-flap the French dancer.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

The greater blockhead the Baron: but don't pester me with your odious law cases.—Did not you tell me you was to go to Kingston to day to try the crown causes?

SERJEANT.

I was begg'd to attend for fear his Lordship should not be able to sit; but if it proves inconvenient to you—

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

To me! Oh, by no means in the world; I am too good a subject to desire the least delay in the law's execution: and when d'ye set out?

SERJEANT.

Between one and two; I shall only just give a law lecture to Jack.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Lord! I wonder Mr. Circuit you would breed that boy up to the bar.

SERJEANT.

Why not, chuck? He has fine steady parts, and for his time moots a point—

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Steady! stupid you mean: nothing sure cou'd add to his heaviness but the being loaded with law. Why don't you put him into the army?

SERJEANT.

Nay, chuck, if you choose it, I believe I have interest to get Jack a commission.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Why, Mr. Circuit, you know he is no son of mine; perhaps a cockade may animate the lad with some fire.

SERJEANT.

True, lovee; and a knowledge of the law mayn't be amiss to restrain his fire a little.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

I believe there is very little danger of his exceeding that way.

SERJEANT.

Charlot, send hither your brother.

[ExitCharlot.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

I'll not interrupt you.

SERJEANT.

Far from it, lovee; I should be glad to have you a witness of Jacky's improvement.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Of that I am no judge; besides, I am full of business to day—There is to be a ballot at one for theLadies' Clublately established, and lady Bab Basto has proposed me for a member.—Pray, my dear, when will you let me have that money to pay my Lord Loo?

SERJEANT.

The three hundred you mean?

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

And besides, there is my debt to Kitty Cribbidge; I protest I almost blush whenever I meet them.

SERJEANT.

Why really, lovee, 'tis a large sum of money.—Now, were I worthy to throw in a little advice, we might make a pretty good hand of this business.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

I don't understand you.

SERJEANT.

Bring an action against them on the statute, in the name of my clerk; and so not only rescue thedebtfrom their hands, but recover likewise considerabledamages.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

A pretty conceit, Mr. Serjeant! but does it not occur to your wisdom, that as I have (by the help of Captain Cog) been oftener a winner than loser, the tables may be turned uponus?

SERJEANT.

No, no, chuck, that did not escape me; I have provided for that.—Do you know, by the law, both parties are equally culpable; so that, lovee, we shall be able to fleece your friends not only of what they havewonof poor dearee, but likewise for what they havelost.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Why, what a paltry, pettifogging puppy art thou!—And could you suppose that I would submit to the scandalous office?

SERJEANT.

Scandalous! I don't understand this strange perversion of words. The scandal lies inbreakingthelaws, not in bringing the offenders tojustice.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Mean-spirited wretch!—What, do you suppose that those laws could be levell'd against people of their high rank and condition? Can it be thought that any set of men would submit to lay legal restraints onthemselves?—Absurd and preposterous!

SERJEANT.

Why, by their public practice, my love, one would suspect that they thought themselves excepted by a particular clause.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Oh! to be sure; not the least doubt can be made.

SERJEANT.

True, chuck—But then your great friends should never complain of highwaymen stopping their coaches, or thieves breaking into their houses.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Why, what has that to do with the business?

SERJEANT.

Oh! the natural consequence, lovee; for whilst the superiors are throwing away their fortunes, and consequently their independenceabove—you can't think but their domestics are following their examplesbelow.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Well, and what then?

SERJEANT.

Then! the same distress that throws the master and mistress into the power of any who are willing to purchase them, by a regular gradation, reduces the servants to actions, though morecriminal, perhaps not moreatrocious.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Pshaw! stuff!—I have no head to examine your dirty distinctions—Don't teize me with your jargon.—I have told you the sums I shall want, so take care they are ready at your returning from Kingston.—Nay, don't hesitate; recollect your own state of the case, and remember, my honour is in pawn, and must, some way or other, be redeem'd by the end of the week.

[Exit.

SERJEANTsolus.

My honour is in pawn!—Good Lord! how a century will alter the meaning of words!—Formerly,chastitywas the honour of women, andgood faithandintegritythe honour of men: butnow, a lady who ruins her family by punctually paying her losses at play, and a gentleman who kills his best friend in some trifling frivolous quarrel, are your only tip-top people ofhonour. Well, let them go on, it brings grist to our mill: for whilst both the sexes stick firm to theirhonour, we shall never want business, either at Doctor's Commons, or the Old Bailey.

[Exit.

EnterSerjeant CircuitandJack.

SERJEANT.

Jack, let Will bring the chaise to the door.

JACK.

Mr. Fairplay, Sir, the attorney, begs to speak a few words.

SERJEANT.

How often have I told you, that I will see none of these sort of folks but at chambers; you know how angry your mother is at their rapping, and littering the house.

JACK.

He says, Sir, he will not detain you five minutes.

SERJEANT.

Well, bid him walk in.

EnterFairplay.

Well, Mr. Fairplay, what's your will?

FAIRPLAY.

I just call'd, Mr. Serjeant, to know your opinion upon the case of young Woodford, and if you like the proposal of being concern'd.

SERJEANT.

If it turns out as you state it, and that the father of the lad was really a minor, the Essex estate may without doubt be recover'd; and so may the lands in the North.

FAIRPLAY.

We have full proofs to that fact.

SERJEANT.

May be so; but really Mr. Fairplay, you know the length of time that these kind of suits—

FAIRPLAY.

True Sir, but then your experience will shorten I appreh——

SERJEANT.

That's more than I know: and then not only my fees lying dormant, but, perhaps, an expectation of money advanc'd.

FAIRPLAY.

The property, Sir, is of very great value, and, upon the recovery, any acknowledgment shall be readily made.

SERJEANT.

There again,any! do you know that in law, that wordanyhas no meaning at all? besides, when people are in distress, they are lavish enough of their offers; but when their business is done, then we have nothing but grumbling and grudging.

FAIRPLAY.

You have only to dictate your terms.

SERJEANT.

Does the lad live in town?

FAIRPLAY.

He has been under my care since the death of his father; I have given him as good an education as my narrow fortune would let me; he is now studying the law in the Temple, in hopes that should he fail of other assistance, he may be able one day to dohimselfjustice.

SERJEANT.

In the Temple?

FAIRPLAY.

Yes, Sir, in those little chambers just over your head—I fancy the young gentleman knows him.

JACK.

Who? Mr. Woodford! Lord as well as myself, he is a sweet sober youth, and will one day make a vast figure, I am sure.

SERJEANT.

Indeed!

JACK.

I am positive, Sir, if you were to hear him speak at the Robinhood in the Butcher-row, you would say so yourself: why he is now reckon'd the third; except the breeches-maker from Barbican, and Sawny Sinclair the snuffman, there is not a mortal can touch him.

SERJEANT.

Peace, puppy; well Mr. Fairplay, leave the papers a little longer with me and—pray who is employ'd against you?

FAIRPLAY.

A city attorney, one Sheepskin.

SERJEANT.

A cunning fellow, I know him; well, Sir, if you will call at Pump-court in a week.

FAIRPLAY.

I shall attend you.

SERJEANT.

Jack, open the door for Mr.—[ExeuntFairplayandJack.] Something may be made of this matter: I'll see this Sheepskin myself. So much in future for carrying on the suit, or so much in hand to make it miscarry: a wise man should well weigh which party to take for.

EnterJack.

So, Jack, any body at chambers to day?

JACK.

Fieri Facias from Fetter lane, about the bill to be filed by Kit Crape against Will Vizard, this term.

SERJEANT.

Praying for an equal partition of plunder?

JACK.

Yes, Sir.

SERJEANT.

Strange world we live in, that even highwaymen can't be true to each other! [half aside to himself.] but we shall make master Vizard refund, we'll shew him what long hands the law has.

JACK.

Facias says, that in all the books he can't hit on a precedent.

SERJEANT.

Then I'll make one myself;aut inveniam, aut faciam, has been always my motto. The charge must be made for partnership-profit, by bartering lead and gunpowder, against money, watches, and rings, on Epping-forest, Hounslow-heath, and other parts of the kingdom.

JACK.

He says, if the court should get scent of the scheme, the parties would all stand committed.

SERJEANT.

Cowardly rascal! but however, the caution mayn't prove amiss. [Aside.] I'll not put my own name to the bill.

JACK.

The declaration too is deliver'd in the cause of Roger Rapp'em against Sir Solomon Simple.

SERJEANT.

What, the affair of the note?

JACK.

Yes.

SERJEANT.

Why he is clear that his client never gave such a note.

JACK.

Defendant never saw plaintiff since the hour he was born; but, notwithstanding, they have three witnesses to prove a consideration, and signing the note.

SERJEANT.

They have?

JACK.

He is puzzled what plea to put in.

SERJEANT.

Threewitnesses ready, you say?

JACK.

Yes.

SERJEANT.

Tell him Simple must acknowledge the note, [Jackstarts] and bid him, against the trial comes on, to procurefourpersons at least to prove the payment, at the Crown and Anchor, the 10th of December.

JACK.

But then how comes the note to remain in plaintiff's possession?

SERJEANT.

Well put, Jack; but we have asalvofor that; plaintiff happen'd not to have the note in his pocket, but promis'd to deliver it up, when call'd thereunto by defendant.

JACK.

That will do rarely.

SERJEANT.

Let the defence be a secret, for I see we have able people to deal with. But come, child, not to lose time, have you carefully conn'd those instructions I gave you?

JACK.

Yes, Sir.

SERJEANT.

Well, that we shall see. How many points are the great object of practice?

JACK.

Two.

SERJEANT.

Which are they?

JACK.

The first is to put a man into possession of what is his right.

SERJEANT.

The second?

JACK.

Either to deprive a man of what isreallyhis right, or to keep him as long as possibleoutof possession.

SERJEANT.

Good boy! To gain the last end, what are the best means to be us'd?

JACK.

Various and many are the legal modes of delay.

SERJEANT.

Name them.

JACK.

Injunctions, demurrers, sham-pleas, writs of error, rejoinders, sur-rejoinders, rebutters, sur-rebutters, replications, exceptions, essoigns, and imparlance.

SERJEANT.

[To himself.] Fine instruments in the hands of a man, who knows how to use them.—But now, Jack, we come to the point: if an able advocate has his choice in a cause, (which if he is in reputation he may readily have,) which side should he choose, the right, or the wrong?

JACK.

A great lawyer's business, is always to make choice of the wrong.

SERJEANT.

And prythee why so?

JACK.

Because a good cause can speak for itself, whilst a bad one demands an able counsellor to give it a colour.

SERJEANT.

Very well. But in what respects will this answer to the lawyer himself?

JACK.

In a two-fold way; firstly, his fees will be large in proportion to the dirty work he is to do.

SERJEANT.

Secondly?—

JACK.

His reputation will rise, by obtaining the victory in a desperate cause.

SERJEANT.

Right, boy.—Are you ready in the case of the cow?

JACK.

Pretty well, I believe.

SERJEANT.

Give it then.

JACK.

First of April, anno seventeen hundred and blank, John a Nokes was indicted by blank, before blank, in the county of blank, for stealing a cow, contra pacem etcet.—and against the statute in that case provided and made, to prevent stealing of cattle.

SERJEANT.

Go on.

JACK.

Said Nokes was convicted upon the said statute.

SERJEANT.

What follow'd upon?—

JACK.

Motion in arrest of judgment, made by counsellor Puzzle. First, Because the field from whence the cow was convey'd is laid in the indictment asround, but turn'd out upon proof to besquare.

SERJEANT.

That's well: a valid objection.

JACK.

Secondly, Because in said indictment the colour of the cow is called red, there being no such things in rerum natura as red cows, no more than black lions, spread eagles, flying griffins, or blue boars.

SERJEANT.

Well put.

JACK.

Thirdly, said Nokes has not offended against form of the statute; because stealing ofcattleis there provided against: whereas we are only convicted of stealing acow. Now, though cattle may be cows, yet it does by no means follow that cows must be cattle.

SERJEANT.

Bravo, bravo! buss me, you rogue, you are your father's own son! go on, and prosper.—I am sorry, dear Jack, I must leave thee. If Providence but sends thee life and health, I prophesy, thou wilt wrest as much land from the owners, and save as many thieves from the gallows, as any practitioner since the days of king Alfred.

JACK.

I'll do my endeavour. [ExitSerjeant.] So!—father is set off. Now if I can but lay eyes on our Charlot, just to deliver this letter, before madam comes home. There she is.—Hist, sister Charlot!

EnterCharlot.

CHARLOT.

What have you got there, Jack?

JACK.

Something for you, sister.

CHARLOT.

For me! Prythee what is it?

JACK.

A thing.

CHARLOT.

What thing?

JACK.

A thing that will please you I'm sure.

CHARLOT.

Come, don't be a boy, let me have it. [Jackgives the letter.] How's this! a letter! from whom?

JACK.

Can't you guess?

CHARLOT.

Not I; I don't know the hand.

JACK.

May be not; but you know the inditer.

CHARLOT.

Then tell me his name.

JACK.

Break open the seal, and you'll find it.

CHARLOT.

[Opening the letter] "Charles Woodford!"—I am sure I know nothing of him.

JACK.

Ay, but sister you do.

CHARLOT.

How! when, and where?

JACK.

Don't you remember about three weeks ago, when you drank tea at our chambers, there was a young gentleman in a blue sattin waist-coat, who wore his own head of hair?

CHARLOT.

Well?

JACK.

That letter's from he.

CHARLOT.

What can be his business with me?

JACK.

Read that, and you'll know.

CHARLOTreads.

"Want words to apologize—hum, hum—very first moment I saw you—hum, hum—smother'd long in my breast—hum, hum—happiest, or else the most wretched of men."—So, Sir, you have undertaken a pretty commission! and what do you think my father will—

JACK.

Why, I hope you won't go for to tell him.

CHARLOT.

Indeed, Sir, but I shall.

JACK.

No, sister, I'm sure you won't be so cross. Besides, what could I do? The poor young lad begg'd so hard; and there for this fortnight he has gone about sighing, and musing, and moping: I am satisfied it would melt you to see him. Do, sister, let me bring him this evening, now father is out.

CHARLOT.

Upon my word!—The young man has made no bad choice of an agent; you are for pushing matters at once.—But harkee, Sir, who is this spark you are so anxious about? And how long have you known him?

JACK.

Oh! a prodigious long while: above a month I am certain. Don't you think him mighty genteel? I assure you he is vastly lik'd by the ladies.

CHARLOT.

He is.

JACK.

Yes, indeed. Mrs. Congo, at the Grecian coffee-house, says, he's the soberest youth that comes to the house; and all Mrs. Mittens's 'prentices throw down their work, and run to the window every time he goes by.

CHARLOT.

Upon my word!

JACK.

And moreover, besides that, he has several great estates in the country; but only for the present, he is kept out of 'em all by the owners.

CHARLOT.

Ah, Jack! that's the worst part of the story.

JACK.

Pshaw! that's nothing at all. His guardian, Mr. Fairplay, has been with father to-day, and says, he is certain that he can set all to rights in a trice.

CHARLOT.

Well, Jack, when that point is determin'd, it will be time enough to—

JACK.

Then! Lord of mercy! why, sister Charlot, it is my private opinion that if you don't give him some crumbs of comfort, he won't live till Midsummer term.

CHARLOT.

I warrant you. Either Cupid's darts were always but poetical engines, or they have been lately depriv'd of their points. Love holds no place in the modern bills of mortality. However, Jack, you may tell your friend, that I have observ'd his frequent walks in our street.

JACK.

Walks! Why one should think he was appointed to relieve the old watchman; for no sooner one isoff, but the other comeson.

CHARLOT.

And that from his eyes being constantly fixed on my window (for the information of which, I presume he is indebted to you.)——

JACK.

He! he! he!

CHARLOT.

I had a pretty shrewd guess at his business; but tell him that unless my fa——Hush! our tyrant is return'd. Don't leave the house till I see you.

Enter Mrs.CircuitandBetty.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

So, Sir, what makes you loitering from chambers? I thought I told you, you should never be here but at meals? [ExitJack.] One spy is enough in a family.—Miss, you may go to your room; and d'ye hear—I shall have company, so you need not come down. [ExitCharlot.]—Betty, no message or letter?

BETTY.

None, Madam.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

That is amazing!—You know I expect Colonel Secret and Mrs. Simper every instant.

BETTY.

Yes, Madam.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Put the fruit and the wine on the table in the next room.

BETTY.

Very well, Madam.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

And, Betty, order the fellow to let nobody in but Sir Luke.

BETTY.

Madam, I shall take care.

[Exit.

Mrs. CIRCUITsits down.

The ballot must be over by this time. Sure there is nothing so dreadful as a state of suspence: but should they black ball me!—No, there's no danger of that; miss Mattadore has insur'd me success.—Well, this is certainly one of the most useful institutions; it positively supplies the only point of time one does not know how to employ. From twelve, the hour of one's rising, to dinner, is a most horrible chasm; for though teizing the mercers and milliners by tumbling their wares, is now and then an entertaining amusement, yet upon repetition it palls.—But every morning to be sure of a party, and then again at night after a rout, to have a place to retire to; to be quite freed from all pain of providing; not to be pester'd at table with the odious company of clients, and country cousins; for I am determin'd to dine, and sup at the club, every day. I can tell 'em, they'll have but very few forfeits from me.

EnterBetty,in haste, with a Letter.

BETTY.

By a chairman, Madam, from the Thatch'd House.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Give it me, Betty, this instant;—ay—this is Mattadore's hand. [opens and reads the letter.] "My dear Circuit—it is with the utmost concern, and confusion, I find myself oblig'd to acquaint you, that notwithstanding all the pains I have taken, the club have thought fit to reject."—Oh! [She faints.]

BETTY.

Bless my soul! my lady is gone!—John! Will! Kitty! run hither this instant.—

Enter twoMaidsand a ManServant.

ALL.

What, what's the matter?

BETTY.

Quick! quick! some hartshorn and water [pats her hand.] Madam! madam—

SERVANT.

Here! here! here! [bringing water.]

BETTY.

John, go for thepotter-carrierthis instant—Ibelievesto my soul she is dead—Kitty, fetch some feathers to burn under her nose;—there, stand further off, and give her some air—

Enter SirLuke.

Sir LUKE.

Hey day! what the deuce is the matter? what's the meaning of all this, Mrs. Betty?

BETTY.

Oh! Sir, is it you—my poor lady! [cries] clap the bottle hard to her nose.

Sir LUKE.

But how came it about?

BETTY.

Some of thecontinentsof that curs'd letter, she has there in her hand.

Sir LUKE.

Here, here, take some of my eau de luce. [offering a bottle.]

BETTY.

There! she recovers a little—some water—I believe it is nothing but asatiricalfit, I have had them myself—now she opens her eyes—so, so—bend her forward a little.

Sir LUKE.

My sweet Mrs. Circuit.

Mrs. CIRCUIT.

Who is that?

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