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A JOURNEY TO LONDON DESCRIBED.

MANLY, MOODY.

Manly. HONEST John!

Moody. Measter Manly! I am glad I ha' fun ye -Well, and how d'ye do, measter?

Manly. I am glad to see you in London, I hope all the good family are well.

Moody. Thanks be praised, your honour, they are all in pretty good heart; thof' we have had a power of crosses upo' the road.

Manly. What has been the matter, John?

Moody. Why, we came up in such a hurry, you mun think, that our tackle was not so tight as it should be.

Manly. Come, tell us all-Pray, how do they travel?

Moody. Why, i' the awld coach, measter; and 'cause my lady loves to do things handsome, to be sure, she would have a couple of cart-horses clapt to the four old geldings, that neighbours might see she went up to London in her coach-and-six; and so Giles Joulter, the ploughman, rides postillion. Manly. And when do you expect them here, John?

Moody. Why, we were in hopes to ha' come yesterday, an' it had no' been that th' awld weazle-belly horse tired: and then we were so cruelly loaden, that the two fore-wheels came crash down at once, in Waggon-rut-lane, and there we lost four hours 'fore we could set things to rights again.

Manly. So they bring all their baggage with the coach, then?

Moody. Ay, ay, and good store on't there isWhy, my lady's gear alone were as much as filled four pormantel trunks, besides the great deal box that heavy Ralph and the monkey sit upon be

hind.

Manly. Ha, ha, ha !—And pray, how many are they within the coach?

Moody. Why there's my lady and his worship, and the younk 'squoire, and Miss Jenny, and the fat lap-dog, and my lady's maid Mrs. Handy, and Doll Tripe the cook, that's all-only Doll puked a little with riding backward; so they hoisted her into the coach-box, and then her stomach was

easy.

Manly. Ha, ha, ha!

Moody. Then you mun think, measter, there was some stowage for the belly, as well as th' back too; children are apt to be famish'd upo' the road; so we had such cargoes of plumb-cake, and baskets of tongues, and biscuits, and cheese, and cold boil'd beef-and then, in case of sickness, bottles of cherry-brandy, plague-water, sack, tent, and strong beer so plenty, as made th' awld coach crack again. Mercy upon them! and send them all well to town, I say.

Manly. Ay, and well out on't again, John.

Moody. Measter! you're a wise mon! and for that matter, so am I-Whoam's whoam, I say; I am sure we ha' got but little good e'er sin' we turn'd our backs on't. Nothing but mischief! some devil's trick or other plagued us aw th' day lung. Crack, goes one thing! bawnce goes another! Woa! says Roger-Then, sowse! we are all set fast in a slough. Whaw! criss Miss : Scream !

go the maids: and bawl just as thof' they were stuck. And so, mercy on us! this was the trade from morning to night.

Manly. Ha, ha, ha!

Moody. But I mun hie me whoam; the coach will be coming every hour naw.

Manly. Well, honest John

Moody. Dear measter Manly! the goodness of

goodness bless and preserve you!

Cibber.

HUMOROUS SCENE AT AN INN.

BONIFACE, AIMWELL.

Bon. THIS way, this way, sir. Aim. You're my landlord, I suppose? Bon. Yes, sir, I'm old Will Boniface; pretty well known upon this road, as the saying is Aim. O, Mr. Boniface, your servant.

Bon. O, sir-What will your honour please to drink, as the saying is?

Aim. I have heard your town of Litchfield much famed for ale; I think I'll taste that.

Bon. Sir, I have now in my cellar, ten ton of the best ale in Staffordshire: 'tis smooth as oil, sweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy; and will be just fourteen years old the fifth day of next March, old style.

Aim. You're very exact, I find, in the age of your ale.

Bon. As punctual, sir, as I am in the age of my children: I'll show you such ale.-Here, tapster; broach number 1706, as the saying is-Sir, you shall taste my anno domini.-I have lived in Litch

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field, man and boy, above eight-and-fifty years, and, I believe, have not consumed eight-and fifty ounces of meat.

Aim. At a meal you mean, if one may guess by your bulk.

Bon. Not in my life, sir; I have fed purely upon ale: I have eat my ale, drank my ale, and I always sleep upon my ale.

Enter Tapster with a Tankard.

Now, sir, you shall see— -Your worship's health: [Drinks]-Ha! delicious, delicious:- Fancy it Burgundy, only fancy it—and 'tis worth ten shillings a quart.

Aim. [Drinks] 'Tis confounded strong.

Bon. Strong! it must be so, or how would we be strong that drink it?

Aim. And have you lived so long upon this ale, landlord?

Bon. Eight-and-fifty years, upon my credit, sir: but it kill'd my wife, poor woman! as the saying is. Aim. How came that to pass?

Bon. I don't know how, sir-she would not let the ale take its natural course, sir: she was for qualifying it every now and then with a dram, as the saying is; and an honest gentleman, that came this way from Ireland, made her a present of a dozen bottles of usquebaugh-but the poor woman was never well after-but, however, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know.

Aim. Why, was it the usque baugh that killed

her?

Bon. My lady Bountiful said so-She, good lady, did what could be done

three tympanies: but the fourth

she cured her of carried her off:

but she's happy, and I'm contented, as the saying is.

Aim. Who's that lady Bountiful you mentioned?

Bon. Odds my life, sir, we'll drink her health: [Drinks]-My lady Bountiful is one of the best of women. Her last husband, sir Charles Bountiful, left her worth a thousand pounds a year; and, I believe, she lays out one-half on't in charitable uses for the good of her neighbours.

Aim. Has the lady any children?

Bon. Yes, sir, she has a daughter by sir Charles; the finest woman in all our county, and the greatest fortune. She has a son too, by her first husband, 'squire Sullen, who married a fine lady from London t'other day: if you please, sir, we'll drink his health. [Drinks.]

Aim. What sort of a man is he?

Bon. Why, sir, the man's well enough: says little, thinks less, and does nothing at all, faith: but he's a man of great estate, and values nobody. Aim. A sportsman, I suppose?

Bon. Yes, he's a man of pleasure; he plays at whist, and smokes his pipe eight-and-forty hours together sometimes.

Aim. A fine sportsman, truly!-and married, you say?

Bon. Ay; and to a curious woman, sir,-But he's my landlord, and so a man, you know, would not-Sir, my humble service to you. [Drinks.] Though I value not a farthing what he can do to me; I pay him his rent at quarter-day; I have a good running trade; I have but one daughter, and I can give her but no matter for that.

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