SCENE I. A Tavern.

COME, success to us

Well gen­tlemen! How goes our scheme? Have you made any new proselytes since our last meeting?

Why, really, while credulity and the love of money prevail, I think it no merit to make proselytes of one half the town: but that you know is not our purpose; we only want to draw in four or five. I baited the hook for the old shaver; he gap'd▪ snapp'd and swallow'd it as voraciously as a cringing cour [...] would a pension. As for Raccoon, I just threw out a few hints; he soon discovered the foundation, and rais'd the fabric himself.

Oh! if he smells money, as great a cow­ard as they say he is, he'll venture to the gates of hell for it. He, he, he.

I've hitherto kept him in suspence; he haunts me like a ghost; he thinks something, but knows no­thing: He'll be here presently, and I have contriv'd matters so, that he shall make the discovery himself.

So far we have sail'd before the wind, and I've not been idle, for I've drawn in Trushoop and M' Snip: they've been with me these three nights, consulting proper measures for obtaining the treasure; and are so elevated, that I'm afraid they'll run crazy. He, he, he. Trushoop talks of building a chapel at his own expence, and employing a score of priests, to keep up a continual rotation of prayers for the repose of the souls of those poor fellows who buried it. As for M' Snip, he intends to knock off business, home to England and purchase a title. He, he, he. They'll both be here in half an hour.

The devil they do! then I suppose they'll not be in a humour for work till this affair is over—I'd some thoughts of a new suit of cloaths; but I must drop them, till these chimeras are out of M' Snips brain.

That's one reason, why I want the business dispatch'd; for, tho' I like the diversion, I wou'dn't hurt their families. Mr. Parchment, have you prepar'd the papers?

Yes, yes, I have 'em here in my pocket.

Do let's see 'em? He, he, he▪ for they are the foundation of all our undertaking.

Here they are, all plac'd in regular order, and inclos'd in a letter to Mr. Hum.

Aye, aye, let's see.

the letter will do to a tittle—but what the devil's this?

That's the will.

Why, it looks as if it had been preserv'd in the temple of Apollo, or the tower of Babel.

Egad, you might have said Noah's ark, He, [Page 11] he, he, for it looks old enough.—And pray what's this old weather-beaten piece?

Why, that's the draught of the place where the treasure lies: together with the memorandum, sign'd by all present at the time it was deposited.

He, he, he, droll enough.

Well, I must take these into my care, as they are directed to me:

but I wonder what detains Jack Rattletrap.

Oh! I'll be bound for his appearance—I was at his house just now, and found him poreing over the canto of Hudibras and Sydrophel, in order to furnish himself with a set of hard words, which added to his knowledge in the mathematicks, will sufficiently qualify him for a modern conjurer— but here he comes! He, he, he— talk of the devil and his imps appear.

Your servant gentlemen.

Your servant Mr. Rattletrap.

Take your chair—Come, Sir, my service to you.

We began to look for you with impatience▪ Well, are you almost prepar'd for your office?

Yes, dress and books are already provided; but for tools, I must apply to Mr. Quadrant.

Yes, yes, I [...]ll cut you a hazel-rod off our cherry tree; a magnet, nocturnal and forestaff shall be all ready— and I can furnish you, as Hudibras says, with a

He, he, he.— But say, Have you seen the papers?

Yes, I saw them this morning at Mr. Parch­ment's office— But, hark'ee, we want a fifth person, to act as demi-devil, or familiar spirit.

Leave that to me; I'm acquainted with an old artillery-man, he's a snug dry dog— I'll introduce him to you; with his assistance, and a proper habit, you'll cut as droll a figure as old Merlin.

Well, well, but we must have a place pro­vided for his reception, under ground—Mr. Quadrant and I will see that done—drop the conversation, here comes old Raccoon.

Your servant gentlemen—Broder Hum, I'm bery glad to see you— Mr. Quadrant, Mr. Parchment, Mr. Rattletrap.

Leave ceremonies, and take hold of the bo [...] ­tle.

Brother Raccoon and gentlemen all, I must beg your patience for a few minutes—I'll be with you instantly.

Ah! broder Hum, have I found you secret— I tought dere was someting in de wind— dis is a lucky bout— now my dreams out— Dad, I'll keep dese papers, dey shan't hab dem, unless I get de share.

Come, Mr. Raccoon, sit down.

Did you see any thing of a bundle of papers, gentlemen?

No, I saw none.

Nor I — you didn't leave them here.

Speak gentlemen— if you've got them, pray don't keep me in suspense?

Upon my honor, I saw nothing of 'em.

Pray put me out of my pain gentlemen?

If they are not here, the damn'd drawer must have pick'd my pocket when he brought up the wine— Damn the villain!

Coming Sir!

Sir, here's some gentlemen.

You scoundre [...], where's the papers you took?

Sir I didn't take any.

You lie, you rascal!

What's the matter? what's the matter, neighbour Hum?

We're ruin'd, Mr. Washball— the villain! has stole the papers.

Deliver the papers— Deliver the papers, you dog!

Upon my honor gentlemen! I didn't see any.

Damn your honor, you tief; I hope it's no de­fence gent [...]emen

Onor! What, a drawer in a tayvirn have 'Onor?

You lie, you lie you dog!

His countenance condemns him.

Indeed, indeed, gentlemen, I saw no papers at all.

You rascal! you've got 'em: I'll send for a constable immediately.

For God's sake gentlemen!

O! you teif of the world— when I fish for the devil. I'll bate my hook wid you.

Gin I come to him, I'll cut his throt.

Oh L—d! Oh L—d!

Produce the pappers this enstant, or by St. Andra I'll sacreseese ye!

Oh L—d! gentlemen have mercy? don't kill me?

Kill the dog, kill him.

As I hope for mercy I'm in­nocent gentlemen!

Come gentlemen! be merciful don't kill de poor fellow— Search him.

They're not about him— What shall we do?— Come, come my lad—look'ee— be ingenuous with us—the'yre of no service to you, and if you'll pro­duce 'em in half an hour, we'll give you something handsome—Perhaps I've dropt 'em—do my lad! step down and look about.

I will Sir, I will make what search I can.

Come, come—make yourselves easy gentle­men—I did pick up de papers at de door—broder Hum drop'd dem as he went out—I see de contents of dem, here dey are, and I hope gentlemen, dat you will let me come in for de share.

Agreed, agreed, agreed.

We always intended you shou'd have a share brother Raccoon— Well, now the papers are safe, we're all right again—come sit down gentlemen, Very lucky! very lucky indeed!

What can these papers mean.

Oh dear! Oh dear! how my heart beats for joy.

So do mine— I tought it wou'd tump my liver out.

An I had na been stopp'd, I shou'd a cut his throt— I'm glad you prevarted me—let [...]s call him up and ge him samthing.

Aye, aye, by all means.

Did you call, gentlemen?

Weel lad, we've foond the pappers; and hare's samthing to mak ye ameends for the freeght ye got,

and meend ye tall na ane, but keep it to yoursel.

Thank'ee kindly sir! God bless you sir— thank you kind sir.

Aye, aye, a close tongue, makes a wise head▪ remember that young man.

I say, Mr. Trushoop, what are the contents of these papers?

The devil a hair do I know about it, at all, at all.

Well gentlemen— I look upon you all to be men of honor: I suppose you're not strangers to the bu­siness in hand—you've all been inform'd of it, except brother Raccoon and Mr. Parchment, who are both present, and shall soon be inform'd.

Gentlemen! I expected when I was sent for here, that I was to meet as usual, to take a chearful glass with my old friends: I knew of no secret to be divulg'd not I— And I earnestly request, that if it is any scheme, plot, combination, rout, riot or unlawful assembly—In fine, if it is any thing against his most sacred majesty, George the second, of Great-Bri­tain, France and Ireland, king, defender of the faith, &c. whom God preserve! or the lords of his majesty's most honorable privy council, or any one of them—Or the lords spiritual or temporal, or either of them—Or the honorable the house of commons of Great-Britain; that standing bulwark of British freedom, or either of them— The lord-lieutenant or parliament of Ireland, or either of them —The church of England, as by law establish'd; or the [Page 16] government under which we live— I say gentlemen, if it is any scheme, plot, combination, rout, riot or unlawful assembly as aforesaid—keep it to yourselves— don't let me know a tittle of it—I wash my hands of it: for, if I know it, I'll be a swift witness against you— for as I hope to be sav'd, I'll immediately to the at­torney general; lodge an information against you; and hang you every mothers son.

Dear, dear sir! Mr. Parchment, don't think of such a thing.

Don't tell me sir!

Sir, sir, you've known me these many, many years; I've liv'd peaceably, and never was concern'd in any of these disturbances you mentioned.

Mr. Washball, I have nothing to charge you with, but sir, my suspicions are—

Lord! Lord! sir, sir!

Sir, I believe there's not one in this company, but has as much loyalty as yourself.

By my saul mon! I ha as great a regord to to the illuustreus hoose of Hanaver, as ye ha.

It may be so sir▪

I'm surpris'd at you, Mr. Parchment.

The devil burn me but so am I too.

I hope, Mr. Parchment! you don't suppose any of us capable of conspiring against his majesty or his go­vernment— No sir, I answer for myself, his majesty hath not a more loyal subject. The whole business, that you were desired to attend upon here, I'll instantly communicate, if you'll hear, but if not, why sir—

Aye, do hear, do hear, Mr. Parchment.

A [...]ra my dear, and have a little pashence, and we'll tell you all, and more too.

If it is none of those things, gentlemen, I have mentioned, I am ready to hear.

Well then, you must know that I have very unexpectedly, and to my very great joy, receiv'd a let­ter from my loving sister-in-law in England (who is heir [Page 17] to the famous capt. Blackbeard) inclosing sundry papers, such as plans, draughts and memorandums, of a great quantity of treasure, that was buried by the pirates— Here are the papers

gen­tlemen; please to look over them.

I beg your pardon gentlemen, since it's an affair of this nature; I joyn you with all my heart.

The devil doubt you my dear honey.

What's dat' do Mr. Parchment read it, I can't see widout my spectetles.

Why, I find (but I'll omit the preamble) it's a particular account of the treasure, which I'll read— Imprimis, 17 golden candlesticks, chalices and cruci­fixes; 30,000 Portugal pieces; 20,000 Spanish pistoles; 470,000 pistereens; 7 [...] bars of gold; a small box of diamonds; 60,000 pieces of eight; and 150 pounds weight of gold-dust.—This instrument is sign'd by Edward Teach, alias Blackbeard, captain; Moses Brim­stone, first lieutenant; Bryan Fireball, second lieute­nant; Judas Guzzlefire, gunner, and Jeffery Eatdevil, cook.

Oh! what a treasure—What do you think of our plot now Mr. Parchment? He, he, he.

I like it extremely well sir—I wish I had been concern'd in such a plot twenty years ago.

The devil a word a lye in all that again, O hone acree.

Aye! well here's enough for us all.

By my shoul! it's a very fine shight, if a body cou'd but feel it.

By my saul! I'll awa we all me dranken joor­neymen; and keck the shap-boord oot a the wandow.

I'll shave no more—no not I—I'll keep my hands out of the suds.

Dis will make me cut de figure in life, and ap­pear in de world wid de proper impotance: and den I'll do someting for my poor friend.

Our business must be carried on with secrecy [Page 18] and dispatch; besides, it will be attended with some expence—I believe gentlemen, it will be necessary to appoint Mr. Parchment our secretary and treasurer, if it is agreeable to him.

With all our hearts.

Gentlemen, you have already laid me under many obligations, and this appointment, I look upon as a further proof of your esteem: I accept it with grati­tude; and heartily thank you for your kind information, and the great confidence, you have reposed in me, and you may depend on the utmost secrecy, faithfulness, accuracy, dispatch and punctuality.

Fait my dear that's a very fine spache, by my showl! father Duffy never made a better.

Mr. Rattletrap, what do you imagine will be the expence to each individual?

Oh! trifling, trifling— I suppose about two pistoles a man.

Well, I've money about me; I may as well pay it now—Here, Mr. Parchment, is a doubleloon, for my neighbour Trushoop and myself.

Mashah, my dear! and I'm very much oblig'd to you.

Before I make use of my art to discover this treasure, I must insist that each individual of you, go to Mr. Parchment's office and be sworn to secrecy and honesty to each other, and you who have not paid, leave your respective quotas.

Agreed, agreed.

Well gentlemen, it grows late, we'll break up —I expect to see you all to-morrow at six: mean while let it remain a profound secret—remember we're now going to be sworn; so don't let your wives or nearest friends know it.

New, my brae lads, let's aw stand true.

Arra fait we will, that's true for you.

SCENE II. A Street.

Now, and what the devil wiill I say to my wife? or what excuze will I make? By my showl! she look'd wery black at me t'oder night, when I come home in the morning— By the holy stone! I'm very fraid to to knock at the dure—but I can [...]t stand this way, lying out in the cowld all night—By my showl▪ this shitting up all night, will be the det of me—Fait, I'll tell her all the sacret—but that won't do nather, for I'm book-sworn— I'll not fall my showl to the devil for a few scouldings—Well, if I had the wasdom of the holy Saint Dominick, St Patrick, St. Kullumkill, and all the pi­ous saints of Ireland, I wou'dn't be able to tell [...]at to do—But fait I must come in some how or t'oder.

Who's there?

Who else, my dare, but your own Trushoop? open the dure, if you plaze my dare.

Not I, by my conscience!— go to the hoores, where you come from—I'll not be disturb'd this way by you ev'ry night

Open the dure, my dare, if you plaze, the na­bours will make a great tawk, my dare, if you don't— for nabour Glibtongue's paple are all up.

Fat do I care for the nabours—they know [Page 20] I'm an honest vartuous woman—and that's all they can say of me—it's no matters how soon they know of your goings on—if you stay out ev'ry night till day.

Well, if you won't open it, my dear, yoursalf, why then call Tarance, if you plase.

Indeed and I'll call up Tarance—if you want Tarance, why call him yoursalf; I'll not be stay­ing up in the cowld, killing my life this way, so I won't.

Tarance, Tarance, Ta­rance.

Coming sir!

Well then, cum away, and fait I and you will go to work togeder, so we will—for by my showl, the shap will be the stillesht plaashe in the howshe for me, for I'd rader hare the kooper's march, than the sound of my wife's tung the day.

Tarance.

Coming.

Augh! dis oat—dis day will be a bad night to me—Well, the devil a hair do I care—fen I get the money, she'll soon make it up wid me, for I'll make her as great as the earl of Portleydown's own wife— Lady Barrymoore hersalf, shan't be finer den she.

Tarance—why you teif of the world! if you don't cum down in a minute, I'll give shelaley—Why, Tarance.

I'm just here.

By my showl! this fellow is enough to warey the pashence of saint Ignatius, or the holy pope him­salf—Tarance!

Shure, I'm just here.

You teif of the world! why didn't you let me in when I tumpt?

Shure I cum, fen I heard you.

You lie you teif.

Shure if you com'd home in time, we'd not have all this noyse, so we wou'dn't

Give us none of your gum, you spalpeene of perdition! by my showl, I'll give you shelaley, so I wou'd

Oh! murder! murder!—master dare! don't kill one.

Arn't you asham'd to be making a great noyse all night in the strate, this morning, and killing the poor boy for noting.

Arra, mistress dare, spake to him—Master dare laave off, for shure I was aslape when I heard you coll.

To the devil I pitch all liars—Go to your work, you teif of the world, and if you don't make me five tight caggs the day (that will hould no vater) I'll bate you as long as I am able, and longer too.

SCENE III. A Room in Moll Placket's House.

What shall I do wid dese things? dad, I'll put dem under the bed.

But where's Mrs. Plac­ket? She'll be oberjoy [...]d when I tell her— Dad I'll dress her off as fine as de queen of Shebe, when she come to see broder Solomon—She shall go to de play ebery night; a coach and two footmen to attend her— Do' I'm an old man, dad I've strengt in de back, and marrow in de bone, and as bigorous as some young fellows of twenty-five; dat Mrs. Placket can testify.

Placket, pet, pet.

Pet's a coming, pet's a coming, dear Cooney—

here's pet.

Buss me, my dear, and I'll tell you someting, dat will make you happy.

What, is your wife dead? say— tell me— for I know that will make us happy.

No, but it's bery near so good—but you'll tell.

No, indeed, indeed, indeed I won't, my dear Cooney.

Well den, I'll not keep my dear pet in suspense any longer, but you must buss me, when I say any ting dat pleses you.

Well, so I will then.

Well den—Mr. Hum has rec [...] a letter from his sister in England, wid an account [...] two or tree hundred tousand pound, dat was buried by old Black­beard de pirate; wid de draught where it is hid—and we know de bery spot

and I'll gib you £. 500 a year for pin-money;

and we'll ride in de coach togeder;

and we'll go to de play togeder

and den we'll come home and go to bed togeder

and den we'll— a you little rogue you.

And do you really think you'll find it?—Why, if you knew where all the treasure in the world was bu­ry'd, you'd never obtain it without a conjurer.

Yes, my dear, but we hab a conjurer—we'b got Mr. Rattletrap; he understands 'strology and de magic-art, better den any man in de guberment—and dis night we intend to make de tryal— and I must go dis instant, and settle de place of meeting.

Can you leave me so soon, my dear Cooney?

By'e, b'ye Cooney—There he goes, and good luck attend him—poor old fool; he thinks I have a prodigious fondness for him—and so I have for his better part, that's his money—He has been deficient in payment for sometime past; but he thinks he makes that up with soft language; for he calls me his pet, his dove, his poor ting, and a thousand such soft names; and I keep pace with him, as well as I can; for I call him Cooney, cock-a-pidgeon, sugar-plumb, cock-a-dandy, and all [Page 23] the sweet things I can think of— Was any one to over­hear us, they'd think we were two little children, play­ing baby—and really we do but little more—but thank fortune, I'm not at a loss for a friend, to make up his deficiency—tho' he thinks me as innocent as a dove: and indeed I'm like a dove in one respect, for when I lose one mate, I mourn till I get another—but I hope the worst is past.

SCENE IV. A Street.

Hey! Mr. Rattletrap, which way.

I'm just return'd from the place of action— we go on gloriously—Quadrant and I must set out half an hour before the rest, to have all things in readiness— I've left Spitfire there, and given him his proper cue.

What do ye think?—Ha, ha—I just now saw brother Raccoon, with a long catalogue of all his military atchievements, both in Jamaica and on the continent— together with a treatise he wrote on military discipline, last war, for the instruction (not only of our militia offi­cers) but the regular officers likewise—the same that he sent to the coffee house— you remember it— I could scarcely forbear laughing, while he was explaining de hollow square, and de ebolutious, as he calls it —He's gone in great haste to lay 'em before the governor, to procure his recommendation to the se­cretary of state, for a colonel's commission.— I find nothing less than a regiment will satisfy him — which he [Page 24] thinks his merit alone, entitles him to—But whether or not he swears he'll make his gold subservient to his ambition, when he obtains it.

Bravo! He, he, he.

I'm at a loss to know how he'll bear up under his disappointment—Sure nothing can equal hi folly, but his vanity—But, I'm in great hopes this experi­ment will cure him.

No matter how much he's disappointed—I'm doubtful fellows of his turn are incapable of proper reflection.

True; but it's a very great pity for all— Well, remember we are all to meet at the Ton, pre­cisely at six,

we've but half an hour to spare; adieu, adieu.

SCENE V. A Taylor's Shop.

Awa, awa, we ye aw— awa— begone ye scoondrels—oot o' my hoofe thas menute, or by St. Andra I'll chop the heeds off ev'ry vullain of ye—oot ye vele scum—na a word oot o' your heeds, or Ise ma [...] a sacrefeeze o' ye aw.

nae mai [...] my hoose sil be a resaptacle for thieves, ye prack-loose sins of hoores—These therty years post I'se been a sleeve to ye aw; Awa, awa, Ste-tepe, bookrum, moo­heer, guze, shares and aw,

na mair accasion ha I for ye—New I'se clear'd the shap-boord, the naxt thing es to cleare holl o' its rubage.

I'se fot up this rume for the resaption of jontlemen o' the foorst ronk—than gang to Breetain—be a teetle and occept a pleece at coort— It shall be nathing less than [Page 25] loord chaumberlin, or meester o' the waardrobe—than I'se be a gu [...]e freend to Amereca, and new I've ez'd my meend o' the parplaxity o' buzness—New for the trazure—I'se gang and mate my coompany.

SCENE VI. A Room in Washball's House.

My dear Lucy! I can't conceive the meaning of your uncle's displea [...]ure, hi churlish beha­viour, for some days past, gives me great concern.

He never utter'd a syllable to your disadvan­tage, till within these three days past, during which time, he has been frequently dinning in my ears, that, if I marry agreeable to him, he'll give m £ 0,000 to my portion—and further declar'd, that if ever I spoke to you, or kept your company again he'd disown me.

Strange! but pray, where's he to get the money.

Oh! he's certainly beside himself, or he cou'dn't entertain such notions—He told me last night, he in­tended to sail for France, the first opportunity; and there get himself dubb'd a Knight of the Golden Fleece.

Unaccountable why, he must be out of his senses, or he never cou'd act so inconsistent—appoint to­morrow [Page 26] for the celebration of our nuptials— make the necessary preparations—then of a sudden change his mind— I can't account for it.

I hope this humour will shortly change—then we shall bring matters to a conclusion: for I had rather our marriage shou'd be solemniz'd with, than without, his consent.

Certainly, it wou'd be most agreeable to us both—but consent, or not consent, it must be done.

Our affair is carried too far, for us to retract, without subjecting ourselves to the laughter of the town —you know my dear Meanwell! a girl's character un­der these circumstances, seldom escapes censure.

True—my dear Lucy! the world's very cen­sorious, and slander like a snow-ball, always gathers by rolling—whatever malice can invent or envy suggest, shall never lessen you in my esteem—my affection for you, is too firm, to be shaken by the blast of scan­dalous tongues.

Be assured, your generous love shall be re­paid [...]ith virtue, tenderness and respect—and if I had the £ 10,000 my uncle shadow'd out for me; I shou'd esteem it as so much dro [...]s—'Twou'd only serve to make me miserable without you.

Lord! here's my uncle.

Hey dey! here's fine doings—how dare you enter my house, after I forbid you? Ha, sirrah!

Sir your neice and—

And what sirrah, have you to do with my neice out of my house directly— you're a pretty fellow indeed—marry a girl with £. 10,000 portion.

Sir, I beg—

Beg what? I keep no beggars [...]n my house, you rascal! get out of my house I say—what, do you want to rob me—out of my house, or I'll break your head sirrah!

Dear uncle! be patient—

Patient, ha! what, you want him to stay, do you? get to your room you baggage! to your room this instant

get out of my house, you villain; —away to your room baggage! out of my house you rascal.

If I ever find you here again, I'll send you to the work-house sirrah! £. 10,000 ha—to an upstart young fellow, who hasn't so much as a coat of arms—Meanwell—I'm sure there's no such name to be found in all the books of heraldy—no, no—I'll match my neice to a noble­man, who can trace his genealogy up, as far as William the Conqueror: and can settle a good joynture on her —I'll away to France, get myself created a Knight of the Golden-Fleece—then I shall have a greater coat of arms than any peer of Great-Britain—I shall be call'd Sir John Washball, Knight of the most noble order of the Golden Fleece—Oh! how I exult in the prospect— but I must away and meet my friends: the lucky hour approaches, when gold, diamonds and rubies, shall make their appearance;

SCENE VII.

My old friend, Mr. Trushoop, how are you?

O hone! my dear, at your sharwis, but I don't care how I am, so you are well.

Are we all here, gentlemen?

We're all here, Mr. Hum.

Well gentlemen things seem to go on pros­perously, and bear a favourable aspect; I think myself happy, in not having discover'd this secret, to any of the vain or profligate part of mankind—but to you, gentlemen, who by a long series of acquaintance, I've found to be men of strict honour and integrity, and my very good friends: which leaves me no room to doubt, but the treasure we're about to discover and divide amongst us, will be so disposed of, a [...] to render each of us useful members of so [...]iety, and shining ornaments to the government under which we live—It would grieve my heart, to see any of us act contrary to the character of a man of piety, and a gentleman.

Arra, my dare, that's true for you—Don't you all hear that wery fine spache he made just now▪ a little while ago—By my shoul! he's a ghantelman of grate learnedness, fait is he.

We tank broder Hum, for his kind admonition —What he says is trute, and seems to spring from de bery fountain of sense; and as m [...] talent lies in de mili­tary, I intend to go to Lond [...], and buy de [...]e [...]ment— den I'll show dem what de Americans can do.

Sa [...]e bind, safe find ha broder [...]um—I hab engag'd wid Mr. Trappick, and I hab it under his own hand, for a bill of exchange of tree tousand pound, at 65, at de rate of twenty-seven thilling de pistole, and gold dust at six pound de ounce.

It's very commendable, brother Raccoon; you have to be [...]are, an excellent notion of honor and [...]a [...]e.

In troth, I'se gang awa and be a teetle

I am far advanc'd in years, and have lost that sprightliness and activity, I possest in my youthful days —But I hope to do some good with my money— I pro­pose to go over to France, get myself knighted, then to London, and marry my neice to a nobleman—I've no am [...]ition, [...]ot I, but to be call'd Sir John Washball, and have a coat of arms.

The devil a [...]air do I care, for a coat of arms, or a coat of legs, myself will build a shapple, and help the poor preasts, who havn't a tootful to put in their mouts; and the devil a beggar shall lave my dure wid a hungry [...]ally, and when I'm dead, shure they'll make a shaint o me.

I applaud your pious resolutions, Mr. Trus­hoop; your intentional charity is certainly disinterested, and worthy of none but yourself.

The devil a word a lye in all that.

Well gentlemen, 'tis time to enter on busi­ness; have you seriously considered what you are going about? Our warfare i [...] not with men of this world; we have to engage with principalities and powers of dark­nes, with invisibles and demons, far more powerful than the united legions, of the most invincible monarchs on earth: therefore, the greatest exertion of your cou­rage will be necessary.

Fait my dear, and you're right, and I think so too.

The thoughts of these things shock me so, I can scarcely help trembling.

I tink I hab courage enough.

Aye, brother Raccoon, you're a happy man— your courage is constitutional.

Aye, so it is, so it is; but as for me—O dear! —O dear!

By my showl! but I don't like the toughts of these dolloughons.

Come, don't be faint hearted den—put your­selbes under Mr. Rattletrap's care and mine.

We will so, brother Raccoon, it's happy for us, we have you with us—your example no doubt, will inspire us with some degree of resolution.

Well, are you all furnish'd with tools?

I've provided de pick-axe, and de spade and de spit— I forget to bring dem wid me; I left dem wid a friend, but I can hab dem for calling for▪

Now gentlemen, let's fix on a watch word, whereby we may know one another in the dark.

By all means.

The papers inform us, that the treasure was carried up the creek, on board a canoe.

A very good watch-word! Mr. Parchment— then let it be canoe; as it has a reference to the con­cealment of the treasure.

For my part, I like the word well.

Troth, I'se na objection, sae we can uunder­stond ane another.

The devil a hair myself cares how it is, or what it is, canew or bote, so we get the money.

Well gentlemen, at eleven o'clock we're to meet at the stone bridge: it will not be prudent to go all together, lest we be discovered—Whoever arrives there first, let him wait for the rest; and as they come up, hail them with the word canoe—they must answer with the same word: by observing this, we shall prevent all dis­covery.

Aye, aye, the utmost care and circumspection are necessary—we can't be too cautious.

Fait and I'll hollow canew and canew, all night long, till day-light, if you plase.

Except you are determin'd to follow my directions, when we come to action, 'twill be in vain to proceed.

The spirits won't hurt us, I hope.

Take no rash steps, don't be afraid, follow my directions, and not a hair of your heads shall be injur'd.

I'll do nothing but what you order, Mr. Rat­tletrap.

You're right, my dear, and by my showl! and so will I, and more too.

'Tis needless to say any more— Remember, eleven o'clock at the stone bridge. Each of you repair home, and bring all your tools with you—Be punctual at the hour—we'll break up for the presen — I'll away home and put on my magic habit; otherwise I shall have no power over the invisibles.

I'll go and get de tools; and I'll bring a little refreshment wid me.

Fait and I'll bring my gaaging rod, and all the tools in the shop, if you want them; becaze why—I'll have no occasion to use them after this.

I'se feetch me andra wie me; and then I'se feece the de'el h [...]m [...]el, gin he appears.

I'll bring the instrument, they are all in good order, and well prepar'd.

Now gentlemen, let's go with good hearts; there's nothing like putting a good face on the [...]e mat­ters—If you'll bear a chorus, I'll sing you a song before we set off—come fill your glasses.

With all our hearts.

SCENE I. A Room in Moll Placket's House.

What cheer Moll? let' [...] taste your head?

How stands the wind? Is the coast clear? No danger of the enemy?

No, no, we're safe enough, for three or four hours; he has no certain time of coming, except after church on sundays, and then he never fails—If the old fellow succeeds in this night's enterprize, Ill make your for­tune for you, my boy.

Why, what the devil's Raccoon spy'd now? Is there a galleon in chase, or is he going to turn pirate?

No, no, but he may thank the pirates for it.

How, how Moll? tell me you little dear dog you?

Tell you indeed— Well can you keep a secret?

If ever I blow you, blast me! you know me better—If one word goes thro' my head-rails, the devil blow me to jill-kicker! aye Moll, the next hur­ricane blow me off the main-yard, three leagues a stern▪ that's enough— and now I'll kiss the book on it.

Well then, I'll tell you—You must know, that Mr. Hum has receiv'd a letter from his sister, in En­gland; giving an account where there's a deal of money that was buried by the pirates.

Money buried by the pirates? the devil!— I've often heard that Blackbeard hid his money, near the river side somewhere— But how the devil came she by the papers?

Why, she's Capt. Blackbeard's grand-daughter— the papers were preserv'd in the family, till they were sent to Mr Hum—and you must know Raccoon is a free-mason, so he is to assist him, and they are to go shares.

How the devil do you know that Hum's a free-mason.

Why I suppose so, for they always call one another brother—and they keep this business as secret as their masonry—but I wheedled him out of it, in spite of all their cunning

I shou'dn't l [...]ke him on board the Europa—he'd make a damn'd fist in the Killecranky trade— he'd throw out a signal, and the custom-house officers wou'd soon bear down on us—away goes ship and cargoe by the mast—He'd soon make my owners scratch a beg­gar's a—e—But tell us Moll! how the devil did you pump it out of him?

That's none of your business, sauce-box: wo­men like me, have always a lure to catch the men's secrets.

True Moll—but this sort of chit-chat keeps us at long-shot— I thought to have grappled with you by this time—let's step into the state-room, and turn in: you know the old saying, time and tide wait for no one.

Softly— don't be too hasty— let's make the door fast first:

tho' I love your lit­tle finger, better than Raccoon's whole body; yet I must keep in with him.

Aye, that's true Moll— I should be loth to quarrel with an owner, because he didn't understand navigation.

You know he maintains me, finds me a house to live in fathers all my children— and a husband can do no more.

Right Moll; now we're all snug; the hatches are all secur'd.

[Page 35]Come Moll, now I'll try what the clues of your ham­mock are made of.

So—the devil has ow'd me a spite this good while, and now he's brought the enemy upon me, when I'm landlock'd.

Who's there? Who's there?

It's me my dear little pet, open de dore.

Oh! curse his head!—Pet's a coming, dear Cooney; pet's a coming

Where the devil shall I stow myself?— shew me where to hide.

Creep under the bed, and you're as safe as a thief in a mill.

What brings my dear Cooney back so soon? no misfortune I hope.

No, no, no misfotune my dear pet— only I left some tings under de bed.

Curse your contrivance! now I'm blown

What things my dear Cooney, did you leave there?— O invention! thou darling genius of my sex! assist me, or I'm ruin'd.

Noting▪ my dear pet, but de spade, de pick axe and de spit—But what make you look so suppris'd child?

Why, I was afraid you'd catch me; and indeed you'd like to have done it. He, he, he.

Cech what▪ cech how? what de devil do you mean by cech▪ egad, I begin to tink, it isn't all lyes dat I hear of you Mrs Placket—tell me instantly, who you [...]ad wid you; or I'll shake you to atoms

what de devil, do you tink to impose upon me wid your he, he, he,—I'll know d [...] trute before I done [...]ussey.

Oh, my dear Cooney! do let me go and I'll tell you the truth.

Oh! the brim­stone where! I wish I was on board the Europa.

Well come, let's hear: confine yourself to de trute hussey.

By the Lord! the storm gathers— we shall have soul weather soon—I must bowse taught my rolling tackles.

La sir, I'm afraid to tell you, you're so angry: I'll tell you in the morning, when your passion's over.

I'll know it instantly, you vile strumpet! or I'll—

It comes thicker and faster.— Here's a damn'd stink of bilge-water a long side.

I'll tell, I'll tell you all, if you won't hurt me.

Well, tell den.

Look at this book

Dis book—what of dat? It's High-Dutch.

Can't you read it?

Not I, indeed.

I'm glad of it.

Why then you must know, when I was about fifteen years of age, I liv'd with my uncle, at Germantown, a High-German doc­tor; who cou'd tell fortunes, detect lost maidenheads, lay spirits, raise the devil, find stolen goods, and disco­ver hidden treasure; and all his whole art is contain'd in this little book.

Well, what's all dat to de puppose?

Nothing, but I'd just taken the book in my hand, and was about to raise a familiar spirit, to in­form me if you'd succeed in your undertaking; and he was just rising thro' the floor, when you knock'd at the door.

I declare you supprise me—let me get de tings and I'll go.

No no, 'tis as much as your life's worth to touch any thing, before I've drove him off.

By my soul! she acts her part well— [Page 37] she'd out face truth, and out brazen the devil; a girl after my own heart, faith.

Can you lay him den, my dear pet?

Why, I [...]ve rais'd and laid 500 in my time— don't be afraid.

That's true for you my girl—I'll swear for fifty—But I'll secure the spit, for fear of the worst.

Wou'd you like to see him?

No, no, a, a, dere's no 'casion.

Well but there's no avoiding it now.

Well, stand you here; don't stir an inch; bend your head a little that way, and keep your eyes shut—He's visible—but don't be afraid.

O, O, I wish he was gone.

Dunder schlemer hoont, shize­treek, un caleyreva, rizum, tenealis amisce.

Mercy on me; bere am I?

Get up my dear! did you see it? you an't hurt I hope, my dear: let me help you up;

don't be frighten'd; he's gone far enough now; he'll not trouble you any more.

Oh my dear! I neber was so frighten'd in all my life—Is he gone?

Didn't you see him?

I had de glimp of him, as he goed by—I tought he had a, a, carried de corner of de house away wid him.

Will you have a dram, my dear Cooney? here drink it my dear, and you'll recover your spirits.

Oh, I was'n't a, afraid my dear! a, a, only—

Courage man; come rise:

you'll see ten times more before morning.

Oh! I'm not afraid, a, I seed him—I tink he look like de sailor.

Why, he's the apparition of one of Capt Black­beard's crew; and as a confirmation that you'll obtain the treasure, he threw that spit on the floor as he flew off.

Why, dis is de bery spit, dat I put under de bed.

If so, you must lose no time, but begone.

Well, I'll get de pick axe, and de spade, and den I'll go.

Now one buss, my dear pet, and den—

Well it's an old saying "when poverty comes "in at the door, love flies out of the window'—Realy I've experienc'd the truth of it lately—Had'n't it been for Topinlift, and a few transient friends, I believe I should have b [...]n in a poor situation by this time; for I'm sure he's [...]ng about him that can please me, but his money—He promises what he will do—this thing, and t'other thing; but I'll no longer trust to ba [...]e pro­mises—he has deceiv'd me long enough—I should have been better off, if I had never seen his face—yet had he dealt honorably by me, I should have done the same by him: but when a woman finds herself deceiv'd, basely treated, abused and deprived of real necessaries, she has it always in her power, and she must be a fool, if she don't take her revenge, in a way the most pleasing to herself.

But hang this disappointment, then—

SCENE II. The Place of Action, near the Stone Bridge.

Well that's right—the holes I see are made.

Yes, I've not been idle since you left me.

We must lose no time 'tis near eleven O'clock.

Come, come bury it at once.

Now we've nothing more to do, than to see you safe in your hole—step down, step down, and mind when I give you the signal, throw fire-balls— and when they come to a sight of the chest, push up the figure—now besure you act the devil, as if you were go­ing to deceive the devil himself; and we'll reward you devilishly well.

And the devil take me if I don't.

Now I think we're right—we're ready to receive [Page 40] them—and if our devil plays his part well, I think we shall make a devilish merry night of it He, he, he. Egad here's some of them.

Canoe.

Where are the rest of you?

They're all coming; I heard them as we came down the Hill

I tore my shins unaccountably, coming thro' the briars.

Fait and I tumbled up the hill, 'till I got my fut in the boggs and if I hadn't held fast by the vater, I'd be drown'd.

Don't mind gentlemen— what is de broken shin, or de cold foot compar'd wid de prospect of dese riches.

By my saul▪ I charg'd my sel with twa bottles, to leeghten me nawse; and that's a bonny gee [...] in a dark neete—and for fare of meeting woth any Icoondrils, I'se brought my andra under my cot—as gude stuff as e'er was made in aw Sco [...]d.

Well gentlemen, are we all here?

We're all here Mr Rattletrap.

Keep silence gentlemen—by the calculation I made this morning, by the Satellites it must be some where near this place.

Dis seems a likely place broder Hum, now let us hab a good heart.

Let me beg of you brother Raccoon, not to be too fierce, I am fearful your courage will get the better of your prudence.

Not a word, not a word gentlemen—the magnet works this way—pray be silent—where's my [Page 41] rod?

It draws excessive strong this way. I feel myself interrupted by invisibles—I can scarcely keep the rod in my hands —there—now I have it—it draws this way.

Dis is de critical moment gentlemen, now gen­tlemen.

You've too much courage brother Raccoon, pray be advis'd.

Silence—I'm near the place— the rod points to this spot— I'm near the center—I know the rod to be good▪ I've try'd it [...]s virtue—'Twas cut on All-Hallow's Eve, a [...] twelve o'clock at night, with my back to the moon▪ and the Mercury injected while the sap was running.

By the holy stone I believe he was born in the moon.

Not a word gentlemen

Diapaculum interravo, testiculum stravaganza.

By my showl! my dear, and he spakes halgebra to it.

Oh dear! oh dear▪—you'll spoil all.

Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagitarius, Capricornus, Aquarus, Pisces—make no noise else you'll disturb Jupiter, who is the most wakeful planet: he is now in his first sleep.

Let me see, it's now twelve o'clock— the moon is near her southing—Jupiter is in a sound sleep, a good omen.

What does he say? Upiter—is Upi­ter a lucky om [...]um, broder Hum?

Don't speak▪ don't speak, good brother Rac­coon, pray don't—let me intreat you.

Take off your cloaths gentlemen?

and stand within this circle.

keep a good look out—canoe's the word, don't forget it—now run down the spit, and try this place Mr. Washball.

I feel it—I feel it—it strikes against something.

Then fall too and dig—and when the signal's given—fall flat on your faces

now the Dra­gons head▪ and Scorpions tail are in conjunction—a lucky —concurrence, but Sagitarius seems eclips'd, ha! I don't like that,—It looks portentous of ill—but Syrius's right foot—

Canoe.

Inferno atum, gastro phagnum—rise up and go on, it was only a blind fidler and some company re­turning from the Batchelor's Hall.

By my showl! but I've made a swate pickle of mysalf, all over full of mud.

De'el tauk me mon, but I din'na leeke this.

Not a word, proceed—but Syrius's right foot, over Orion's left shoulder looks well—and the Swan's tail near the Hydra's heart looks well too.

don't stir an inch—if you do break the mounds, I've no power—dig—dig—conjabetima morentium habavo— and this leap year is not unfavourable.

Oh! how my heart bates.

Come nearer to me Mr. Rattletrap; or I shall faint▪ oh dear! oh dear!

O, O, I wish I was at home, I neber wou'd come again.

Never fear—I'll protect you—Hobonos cum verigos, omne croxibus influvientum.

Canoe

Metantaborabulum exultisimo, locabulum mon­grabo, [Page 43] rise, 'twas nothing but a cow.

Arra, how my wife will scowld at me, when I fatch her the money, for spoiling my new cote.

Sagitarius is clear—Sextile in conjunction with Quartile, right.

Saturn is a meta­lic planet, and tho' in common the most dull, he looks clearer than the rest—this is the best sign of all.

Oh dear! oh dear! speak to it Mr. Rattletrap.

These invisibles will disturb you a while; you're just upon it Conjunction oppositorium, placabu­lum fomoso.—dig away, Arcturus now appears— Venus is now our morning star, and is eclipsed four digits.

now their rage increases—we're nigh the treasure—don't be afraid, keep up your spirits, I am with you—their fiery darts will soon be over.

He performs to admiration!

Incomparably well, by Jupiter! He, he, he.

Cum meritantibus confiderationibus, terraban­dum ophagnum.

See how that goose gobbles down the Latin as a duck wou'd a chitterlin.

Mercy on us! mercy on us! I shall faint.

Don't be frightned, now Cassiopea and the Bears Tail, are on the meridian excessive lucky?

Come let's drink while the fools are digging, He, he, he.

It's confoonded hord woork, it maks m [...] swete.

I feel de chest—I feel de chest.

By my showl! but I've a great mind to wauk off wid mysalf, for the devil burn me but I believe he'll burn us all up; for fait he looks like no slouch of a fellow.

Troth mon, he cuuts a shacking fegure.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

Pray in English, dese pirate spirits don't under­stand de Latin.

I don't know what to say I wish I had lib'd a better life, dear Mr. Washball say you prayers.

I can't pray in English—do you say something good to it.

Cruciblarium, advansum perilorum.

Right worshipful master, O, O, I believe, O, O, what is your name Raccoon, who gib you dat name, my grandmoders and godfaders, O, O, O, for eber and eber. Amen.— Dare he comes, dare he comes again.

Lave off you black mout! you havn't it; lets have no more of that,

Sinner­rorum helpum deliverum, miserabulum tuscarorum.

By my saul mon, 'tis the de'el himsel.

Save me! save me!

Superiorum lakeavi, hurorum.

Now's the lucky minute—the Serpent's neck is round the poleaste [...]—raise the chest.

Now gentlemen, keep your hold—banish fear —keep fast

your as [...]istance gentlemen, or we shall lose all.

Dat's old black­beard —by de birtue and de power of de free and de ac­cepted mason, to me giben; I command you to depaat —O, O, O, what distubs dy poor soul from rest

Hold fast—do na let gang your grup.

new I ken him, I'll gang after him.

Pray don't Mr. M' Snip, it de pirate appa­rition; [Page 45] didn [...]t you see how bery angry it look'd at me, when I did speak to it.

I do na care, what it is, be it sperit, apparee­tion, or the de'el himsel, I'se tree my brod sword on him—gin he can stond a cute o' my andra, he mun be the de'el in troth.

De'el tak aw warlocks, I say— I had leken to ha' brok me neck down the brae.

That was a very wrong step; if I hadn't been here you wou'd have suffer'd by your impetuosity

Horridum, callifridum, buscantivo, interdenabulum—Avaunt! avaunt▪ avaunt! and be thou laid in lake Huron, while water flows

Now we're all safe—up with the chest —these fiends of darkness, will trouble us no more.

The de'el a seight mare you'll ha' o' him, new he's gotten a smell o' my andra.

Huzza! huzza! huzza! &c.

Oh my dear! my dear!

Let me see, 1634. Aye, this the very money that Blackbeard got at Pa­nama, when he robb'd the churches—Oh, the poor priests! the poor priests! it seems providen [...]ially to have fallen into my hands—Come, come, let us take it away.

May we presume to take it away Mr. Rattle­trap?

My business is finish'd, therefore all is our own.

There's one thing gentlemen, proper to men­tion— my sister from whom we've receiv'd this infor­mation, is entitled to a share — besides I think she merits a handsome present from us.

Yes, broder Hum, I tink she's intitled to one share— but what present do you talk of?

Why, I shall leave that to you gentlemen— What think you of a couple o'thousand pistoles, or some such trifle?

Consider gentlemen, we hab run de risk of our libes, wid dese spirits; beside, dat's a great deal too much.

Suppose it shou'd be a service of plate of that value—Put it to vote.

I tink it's a bery great shame.

Plate, plate, plate.

Well gentlemen, I'm satisfy'd.

The day approaches; remove it immediately.

Where shall we carry it?

There's room in my house—I'll take care of it—it shall be safe—I'll sleep on it all night.

Agreed, agreed, agreed.

Gentlemen, let's all meet precisely at eight o'clock and divide the money—I think it's necessary some of us shou'd assist Mr. Washball; as this chest con­tains an immense treasure, we can't be too careful—he's aged, and some accident my happen.

I tink, I'd better go too, as I understand de military; if we shou'd be attack'd, my service may be necessary.

You're right sir; and if Mr. M' Snip and Mr. Trushoop will attend you, it will be the safer.

The devil burn Trushoop, if he forsakes 'em.

De'el tauk the mon that lags beheend.

Well gentlemen, I think this great success de­serves a song—Come bear a chorus.

With all our hearts.

It feels brave and ponderous

It is so, my dare, but fait I don't care if I broke my back wid it—Arra dare trad off my hales.

I beg your pordon mon.

Fait my dare, and you're wery welcome, for the devil burn me if I'm thinking about my hales, at all at all.

SCENE III. A Room in Washball's House.

Bless me! how could you venture, after the severe reproof my uncle gave you, to approach this house, at this dead time of night?

Love! angelick love! which knows no fear, but your displeasure, has brought me here on eagle's wings, to waft you hence, and seal that vow already ratified in heaven.

But consider, my dear Meanwell! what may be the consequence of such a rash step, when perhaps a few days perseverance may bring matters to a conclu­sion, with his consent.

I cannot think of trusting to any thing so pre­carious, as he has already consented, by being my bonds-man for the licence, and publickly declaring his assent, we shall be look'd upon by the honest and ju­dicious, as sufficiently justify'd in taking this step.

I am confounded! my love to you, spurs me to a flight, but my duty to my uncle, commands me to wait his reconciliation—I know not what to do, or what to say.

Haste! haste! my dear Lucy, we've no time [Page 48] to lose; each moment seems an hour till we're one; the clergyman waits with chosen friends, to tye the nuptial knot, and crown our bliss.

SCENE IV. A Street.

I can't bear the thoughts of dividing, not I— Division, why, I never could learn it at school— one hun­dred thousand pounds, divided into nine parts— let me see— nine times nine is, a, a, eighty-nine; that's wrong; nine times eleven is an hundred and six and four over; that's too much; but I'm no scholar; well never mind, no matter; charity begins at home, and he must be must be the greatest fool on earth that cheats himself: I think I'm old enough to have more wit—He that cheats another can wipe off the sin by restoring four-fold; but he that cheats himself, the sin will lie at his own door, and it will be out of his power to make himself restitution— I'll go and inform the collector; then I shall have one half to myself, the other will go to the king —They'll call me traytor, but I don't care, let them laugh that wins—It's an old saying, [Page 49] and a true one—that is—let me see—aye, I have it, One bird in hand is better far, Than two that's in the push—no, no, Than two that in the bushes are. Aye, that's it; I remember it's so on my neighbour Sy­monds's sign; but here's fifty thousand birds in the cage, and all pre [...]ty yellow-birds every one of them— Oh! they'll make delightful musick, and make me sing too—I'll e'en go to the collector; I must'n't lose any time, no, no;

I think this is the house; aye

What is your business sir?

Why, why, sir, I have an information to make you, concerning a chest of treasure, that was dug out of the ground last night—Mr. Hum, sir, and se­veral others are concern'd; and it grieves my conscience to cheat the king of his lawful right; so, pray sir, seize it instantly, for me and his majesty. I expect all con­cern'd will be at my house immediately to open and share it—Put the broad R on it and then we shall be safe —you must act for me and the king, and we'll reward you handsomely.

Poh, poh, 'tis not possible; it's only some scheme to make you ridiculous.

Indeed sir, it's a real truth; for this piece of money

drop'd out of the chest, when we took it out of the ground—Look here sir, see it— Pray be expeditious, do sir be expeditious.

Well sir, if you insist upon it, I must seize it

My loyalty to the king, obliges me to insist upon it.

I'll wait on you.

SCENE V. A Room in Washball's House.

Gabriel, where's your master?

He's just step [...]d out sir.

Will he be in soon?

Aye. I believe he will.

Oh! here he comes! but who the devil's that with him?

The collector! Egad, this is what I did not expect—It will not do to dupe him; we must let him into the secret.

Leave that to me,

Sir I'm sorry we have been the means of giving you this trouble; it's a scheme of diversion only; please not to notice it.

Just as I thought—Mr. Hum your servant; gentlemen yours.

Sir, sir, I beg you'd stay— Pray do your duty.

Mr. Washball, It's an affair too intricate for me. I must first advise with the kings attorney.

Augh you cursed ould traytor! ar'nt you asham'd of yoursalf to be chateing us after this way?

I never heard o such a villain!

Here [...]s queer doings here.

Ye eenfamous auld scoondril; ye turn'd een­former, to get the ane half to yoursel—but ye're oot mon. I'se a mind to leeghten your heed by ane of your luggs.

Worse and worse.

What did you tink we were all fools, to be cheated by you.

Nothing can equal this! open the chest gen­tlemen, who knows but the king's attorney will be upon our backs directly.

A traytor, gentlemen, of all mankind is the most despicable wretch. You see, gentlemen that old curmudgeon thinks nothing of betraying his soul, for the sake of his body not the least regard to his solemn oath

How he abuses my master.

Mr. Trushoop, where's your adz? open the chest.

Augh fait! and here we are bote, at your shar­viss my dare.

Where's the Collector? Mr. Collector —tou [...]h it at your peril, you villains! I'll swear rob­bery against you.

I believe they're going to rob my master

Go on with your business gentlemen, open the chest.

Touch it at your peril I say—it belongs to me and the king.

Belong to de devil you teif— we'll soon see who'll feel the sharing of it.

I never see the like before.

Murder! murder! fire thieves! ravishment! hell and fury!—Betty, Betty, bring down the bags you made—Run Gabriel, and call the Collector.

Yes, I will, and I'll go for the constable; sorrow on me but I believe they'll murder my master.

Dere the chest opens.

It's aupen

Give me my share! give me my share! give me my share!

Hoot mon [...] what the de'els aw this? nathing but staines—I k [...]n weel enough wha it is— de'el dom me sirs, but I'll ha' jontlemen's saytisfakeshon.

Fait, and we're all humbugg'd.

De devil dis is a scheme of broder Hum's— I'll second your resolution Mr. M' Snip—do you gib de cha [...]lenge.

By my showl! and I've been made a fool of for the future; but I'll take care for the time past.

I didn't tink broder Hum wou'd serve me so; but egad! I'll inform de lodge of dis— Dere's Rattle­trap too wid his stars and tings, plague on dem all; and has Mrs. Placket made de fool of me too wid her conjuring—It can't be, for I tink she lobes me, or she wou'dn't call me her Cooney, and her cock-a-dandy— Dad I'll get a bottle of her water, and carry it to doctor Witt's, den I'll know if she's a conjurer or not.

Augh I taught I shou'd be cannonicled for a shaint; but it's all over—Arra curse these generati­ons of snakes— I mane wipers.

Oh! I'm abus'd— I shall die, O dear! I shall die

Poor Washball, disappointed Washball

Get out of my house, you villains!

you cursed villains!

you dogs!

you hell hounds!

you devils▪

curse you all!

Arra this is the devil's own works, and they're all the devil's own children; by my showl! and they'll do grate pannance for this.

De'el dom 'em aw.

Dis, dis is my own faut for being too credu­lous: I put too much confidence in dose I tought my friends, and dey deceib'd me. Had I been satisfy'd wid my station, and follow'd a birtuous course of life, den I might have been happy to dis day, and had noting to trouble my peace of mind.—But now I hab seen my folly and former bickedness, I bill take de resolution to lead a new life, and follow my bus'ness wid honesty and industry, and hab noting more to say to de banities, bexations and alewments of dis world; and from hence­foat my study shall be birtue, which paat I will pursue to the end of my day.

Confusion to the vullains; I must e'en gang and fut up my shap-boord agen.

O dear, I'm robb [...]d of my money, my health and my ease—nothing's left for me now but to grieve and lament—How shall I procure my peace again▪— Let me see—attend my business—what then—if a cus­tomer should laugh under the operation of my razor, egad, I shou'd think he aim'd at me, for being this silly old fool, and ten to one but I might cut his throat for madness—Dress a wig—ha— I shall think my blocks grin at me—I'll instantly go and burn them all— If I hear the noise of children in the street, I shall think they bawl ca­noe, canoe—Confound this word—I'd give five hundred pound it was was made high treason to utter it; then I wou'd hang every one of those cursed rogues— O dear! what can I do?—If I rail against them publickly, I shall only have the cold comfort of, "'Tis a piece of diversion, nothing else"—Hellish diversion—Suppose I [Page 54] shou'd try to laugh it off—Alas! alas! I can't do it— I shan't be in a laughing humour these seven years I'm afraid.

Sir we crave your blessing.

Go to the devil you dog

Augh Lucy! sure you're not marry'd.

It is so Mr. Trushoop— Pray endeavour to pa­cify my uncle— pray gentlemen interpose.

Oh the gipsey! I shall run stark staring mad.

Come, come, Mr. Washball, how can you be so angry wid her [...] she's a pretty young cretur.

Pray sir pardon us.

Pray uncle give us your blessing.

Let me int [...]ate you sir, to blass 'em.

I charge you both, tell me the truth, are you really married?

'Tis really so sir.

Dear uncle it's true.

O dear! O lack-a-day! Well, if the knot is ty'd, there's no untying it now.

Come, come mon gie 'em your blessing; troth she [...]s a smirky bonny lass.

Well, since it is so, God bless you both — rise—but remember children, that bare walls makes giddy housewives.

Sir, we thank you for your kind condescen­tion, and I must now inform you that I have this day received a letter from Jamaica, giving an account of my uncle's death, inclosing a copy of his will; by which I understand he hath left me five thousand pounds in cash, with all his real and personal estate; a part of which cash is remitted me, in the Brig Welcome, Capt. Trusty.

I am glad to hear it—it revives my drooping spirits.

Notwithstanding this flush of fortune, I bear the same respect to your neice as heretofore; and you [Page 55] may depend sir, I shall always make it my study to me­rit your esteem.

You have my blessing, and may you live com­fortably together, and see many happy days, and be blest with a train of dutiful children, to comfort you in your old age—and, O! that I, who have one foot in the grave, and the other scarcely out, had been con­tented, then I should have been happy in my old age, and not have involved myself in this labyrinth of trou­ble and confusion—But let it be a warning to others, not to listen to idle schemes, and give way to vain ima­ginations; which had nearly prov'd fatal to me—for he whose desires are unbounded, and is weak enough to listen to artful designing men, stands upon a dangerous precipice whose foundation must sink and he innevitably perish.

And now my friends, Mr. Trushoop, Mr. M' Snip and Mr. Raccoon, I expect you will honor us with your company at dinner—We'll strive to make ourselves as merry as we can, and forget our folly.—Gabriel, call in the neighbours, bring your fiddle and play for us, and we'll have a dance,.

I will sir, sorrow on me but I will, for we havn't had a dance since last christmass.

In the mean while, my children, give us a song.