L. _Blun._ What, disinherit your eldest Son, Brother?
Sir _Mer._ Ay, Aunt, his very Heir apparent? Aunt, to show you how the old Gentleman has misrepresented us, give me leave to present you a Dance I provided to entertain your Son with, in which is represented all the Beauties of our Lives.
L. _Blun._ Oh! by all means, Cousin, by all means.
Sir _Mer._ What hoa! _Roger_, bring in the Dancers.
_Here the Dance, representing Rake-hells, Constable, Watch, &c._
Enter _Philip_.
_Phil._ Sir, who do's your Worship think is arriv'd?
Sir _Row._ My Son _George_, I hope, come in the Nick.
_Phil._ Even so, Sir, from _Paris_-- [Exit.
Sir _Row._ The Prodigal return'd! then kill the fatted Calf.
Enter _George_ drest like a Prentice.
--My own dear Boy, thou art welcome to my Arms, as e'er thy Mother was; for whose dear sake I pardon all thy Follies.
[_George_ Kneels.
Sir _Mer._ Ay, Sir, I had a Mother too, or I'm bely'd-- [Weeping.
Pox take him that he should come just in the nick, as the old Fellow says-- [Aside.
Sir _Row._ Yes, you had a Mother, whom in my Youth I was compel'd to marry; and, Gad, I think, I got thee with as ill a Will; but _George_ and my _Olivia_ in heat of Love, when my desire was new. But harkye, Boy _George_, you have cost me a damn'd deal of Money, Sirrah; but you shall marry, and redeem all, _George_.
_Geo._ What you please, Sir; to study Virtue, Duty and Allegiance, shall be my future Business.
Sir _Row._ Well said, _George_, here's a Boy now.
Sir _Mer._ Virtue and Allegiance! Lord, Lord, how came so sneaking a fellow to spend five thousand Pounds of his Master's Cash?
Sir _Row._ She's rich, _George_, but something homely.
_Geo._ She'll not be proud then, Sir.
Sir _Row._ Not much of her Beauty--she's of a good staid Age too, about some fourscore.
_Geo._ Better still, Sir, I shall not fear Cuckoldom.
Sir _Row._ For that I cannot answer; but she has two thousand a year.
I mean to settle my Family, and then--marry my self, _George_.
L. _Blun._ What, to this old Lady's Grand-daughter? Methinks she's more fit for your Son, Sir _Rowland_, and the old Lady for you.
Sir _Row._ No, no, the young Rogues can help themselves with Mistresses; but 'tis well if an old Man can keep his Wife to himself--I've invited 'em to Dinner to day, and see, they are come.
Enter Lady _Youthly_, led by her Chaplain [Mr. _Twang_], and leaning on a Staff, and _Teresia_.
L. _Youth._ Where's Sir _Rowland Marteen_? Oh, your Servant, Sir, I am come.
[Runs against _George_.
_Twang._ Your Ladyship is mistaken, this is not Sir _Rowland_, but a handsome proper young Man.
L. _Youth._ A young Man! I cry your mercy heartily--Young Man, I alighted in the Sun, and am almost blind.
_Geo._ With wondrous old Age. [Aside.
L. _Youth._ Good lack, Sir _Rowland_, that I should mistake a young Man so!
Sir _Row._ Ay, Madam, and such a young Man too.
L. _Youth._ Ay, ay, I see him now. [Puts on her Spectacles.
_Geo._ S'death, what a Sepulcher is here to bury a Husband in? How came she to escape the Flood? for sure she was not born since.
[Aside.
Sir _Row._ This is the lusty Lad, my Son _George_, I told your Ladyship of.
L. _Youth._ Cot so, cot so, is it so, Sir? I ask your Pardon, Sir. Mr.
_Twang_, take a survey of him, and give me your Opinion of his Person and his Parts.
_Twang._ Truly, Madam, the young Man is of a comely Personage and Lineaments.
L. _Youth._ Of what, Sir?--Lord, I have such a Cold. [Coughs.
_Geo._ Which she got when the _Picts_ went naked.
L. _Blun._ Madam, you have a Power over Sir _Rowland_; pray intreat him to take his Son, Sir _Merlin_, into Grace again.
[To _Teresia_.
_Ter._ That, Sir, you must grant me; pray let me know the Quarrel.
[Sir _Rowland_ seems to tell.
_Geo._ By Heaven, she's fair as the first ruddy Streaks of opening Day.
[Looking on _Teresia_.
Young as the budding Rose, soft as a _Cupid_, but never felt his Dart, she is so full of Life and Gaiety. Pray, Madam, who is that Lady?
[To Lady _Blun._
L. _Blun._ The Grandchild of your Mistress, and your Mother that must be.
_Geo._ Then I shall cuckold my Father, that's certain. [Aside.
Sir _Row._ For your sake, Madam, once again I re-establish him in my family; but the first Fault cashiers him--Come, let's in--Here, my Lady _Youthly_, take _George_ by the hand; but have a care of the young Rogue, if he comes once to touch so brisk a Widow, he sets her Heart on fire.