_Lady Betty._ Well, that is so obliging now--pauvre Marquis! My poor Marquis! I took him to visit with me last night, it would divert you to see how the dear little thing stared at them seated at the Whist Tables.

"How do you like Paris Madam? What's Trumps? Clubs--hum! Is it as large as London? They say short ap.r.o.ns are coming into fashion." And that was all the conversation for half an hour--and then to see the dear creature bark at 'em when they all began in one loud Din. "Captain Hazard, why did you not lead thro' the Honors? Dear Madam, why did you not see-saw? My Lord how could you think of finessing--don't you know what Hoyle says? If A and B are Partners against C and D and the game nine all. A and B have won three tricks, and C and D four tricks then C leads his Suit, D puts up the King, then returns the Suit; A pa.s.ses, C puts up the Queen, B finesses, and so A and B etc."

_Jack._ Well to be sure they have very fine Raillery in this Country--

_Lady Betty._ And then at the Brag Table, such a Scene of confusion! I brag--hum! I pa.s.s--hum! And then to see my Lady Laststake bully the Room with a Thump of her Fist on the Table, "And I brag ten guineas over."

(_Hurra without_)

_Jack._ Oh that rude Canaille have duck'd their Pickpocket, and are following us again, do my Lady Betty, let us make our Escape. Hey! Let touts mes gens be ready. St. Louis, Bourguignon, La Fleur! (_Exeunt_)

(_Enter_ WILDFIRE _and_ FOXCHASE)

_Wildfire._ What a figure they both cut!

_Foxchase._ They've been rightly serv'd.

_Wildfire._ Let us go and dine at his Father's to plague the fellow.

_Foxchase._ With all my Heart. Sir Robert will be glad to see us.

_Wildfire._ By Jupiter the People are after 'em still. They deserve it.

The Man who foolishly adopts French Manners, joyns in League with their Barbers, their Milliners, and is guilty of a Pet.i.t-Treason to his Country. (_Exeunt_)

(_The End of the 1st Act_)

ACT the 2nd

(_Enter_ SIR ROBERT _and_ SIDEBOARD)

_Sir Robert._ What, is this part of his French Manners? Neither to come home to Dinner, nor send word?

_Sideboard._ I wish some Accident has not happen'd, Sir. (_A knocking at the Door_)

_Sir Robert._ Perhaps this is he--

_Sideboard._ Walk in Gentlemen.

(_Enter_ WILDFIRE _and_ FOXCHASE)

_Wildfire._ Sir Robert, your most obedient--we have made bold to come and take share of a Dinner with your Son.

_Sir Robert._ Gentlemen, you're heartily welcome--but I don't know what's become of him.

_Wildfire._ He'll be here immediately, Sir, with a very splendid Retinue--he has got the Mob after his Chariot all the way from the Park.

(_Enter_ ROGER)

_Roger._ Here he comes, but in such a Pickle--the French Parlevous picked a quarrel with the People and there's the new Paper vis-a-vis all demolish'd. There's Lady Betty all towzled, and the Mounsieurs beat to Stockfish--here comes the Squire.

(_Enter_ JACK _all splashed_)

_Jack._ Pardie! There is no Regulation, no Police in this Country--to serve a Gentleman at this rate, my new vis-a-vis, and touts mes gens--deranged in this manner by them.

_Wildfire._ What a Pickle the Fellow's in!

_Sir Robert._ A sad figure indeed.

_Jack._ This is it to live in a Country of Liberty.

(_Enter a chair with the Gla.s.ses all shatter'd_)

_Lady Betty._ (_Comes out_) Oh! I shall certainly expire in this Country! My dear Monsieur de Broughton was there ever anything so barbarous and inhospitable!

_Roger._ It's my Opinion, if I had not been there to speak English for un, they'd a kill un all.

_Mob._ (_Without_) Hurra! No Mounsieurs, no wooden Shoes. (_A Noise if the windows were breaking_)

_Mob._ Hurra! No French Spys!

(_Enter_ ST. LOUIS)

_St. Louis._ Jarnie, Monsieur, I was going up de hide in de garret, and this stone come Pauf--here by my head.

_Roger._ I'll go and speak to un, they'll give over for an honest Englishman, I warrant un. (_Exit_)

_Lady Betty._ What a pack of Savages!

_Jack._ They have no police; at Paris one of the Canaille dare not come within the Atmosphere of a Man of Condition--there, for sending forty Livres to the Lieutenant of the Police, a Man of Quality may run a Scoundrel thro' the Body.

_Sir Robert._ Well, well, come let's in to dinner--Mr. Florid, and the French Gentleman are waiting for us.

_Lady Betty._ Oh, I could not eat in this condition--I'll step upstairs to M'am'selle Harriet. (_Exit_)

_Jack._ And I'll go up to my Toilette.

_Wildfire._ No, no, you shall come and dine.

_Sir Robert._ That's right, Lads, bring him along. (_Exeunt_)

(_Enter_ ROGER _with a Tankard in his hand_)

_Roger._ There, I gave un something to drink, and they've quiet.

_Sideboard._ Young Master's greatly chang'd Roger.