Jon. Lackaday, sir, you don't consider how much easier it is for you to call, than for me to come.

Sir Benj. I think, honest Jonathan, when I first knew you, you was a parish orphan; I 'prentic'd you out; you run away from your master; I took you into my family; you married; I set you up in a farm of my own, stocked it; you paid me no rent; I received you again into my service, or rather, I should say, my lady's. Are these things so, or does my memory fail me, Jonathan?

Jon. Why, to be sure, I partly remember somewhat of what your worship mentions.

Sir Benj. If you partly remember something of all this, Jonathan, don't entirely forget to come when I call.

Ironsides. [Without.] Hoy there! within! what, nobody stirring! all hands asleep; all under the hatches!

Sir Benj. Heyday, who the dickens have we got here? Old Captain Ironsides, as I am a sinner! who could have thought of this? Run to the door, good Jonathan-nay, hold, there's no escaping now:-what will become of me?-he'll ruin every thing; and throw the whole house into confusion.

Enter IRONSIDES.

Ironsides. What, Sir Ben! my little knight of Malta! give me a buss, my boy. Hold, hold, sure I'm out of my reckoning! let me look a little nearer; why, what mishap has befallen you, that you heave out these signals of distress ?

Sir Benj. I'm heartily glad to see thee, my old friend; but a truce to your sea-phrases, for I don't understand them: what signals of distress have I about me?

Ironsides. Why that white flag there, at your maintop-mast head: in plain English, what dost do with that clout about thy pate?

Sir Benj. Clout, do you call it? "Tis a little en dishabille, indeed; but there's nothing extraordinary, I take it, in a man's wearing his gown and cap in a morning; 'tis the dress I usually chuse to study in.

Ironsides. And this hall is your library, is it? Ah my old friend! my old friend! But, come, I want to have a little chat with you, and thought to have dropped in at pudding time, as they say; for though it may be morning with thee, Sir Ben, 'tis mid-day with the rest of the world.

Sir Benj. Indeed, is it so late?-But I was fallen upon an agreeable tête à tête with Lady Dove, and hardly knew how the time passed.

Ironsides. Come, come, 'tis very clear how your time has passed; but what occasion is there for this fellow's being privy to our conversation-Why don't the lubber stir? What does the fat, lazy oaf stand staring at?

Sir Benj. What shall I say now? Was ever any thing so distressing?Why that's Jonathan, Captain; don't you remember your old friend, Jonathan ?

Jon. I hope your honour's in good health; I'm glad to see your honour come home again.

Ironsides. Honest Jonathan, I came to visit your master, and not you; if you'll go and hasten dinner, and bring Sir Benjamin his perriwig and clothes, you'll do me a very acceptable piece of service; for, to tell you the truth, my friend, I haven't had a comfortable meal of fresh provision this many a day.

[Exit JONATHAN. Sir Benj. 'Foregad, you're come to the wrong house to find one! [Aside. Ironsides. And so, Sir Knight, knowing I was welcome, and having met with a mishap here, upon your coast, I am come to taste your good cheer, and pass an evening with you over a tiff of punch.

Sir Benj. The devil you are! [Aside.]-This is very kind of you: there is no man in England, Captain

Ironsides, better pleased to see his friends about him

than I am.

Ironsides. Ay, ay, if I didn't think I was welcome, I shouldn't ha' come.

Sir Benj. You may be assured you are welcome. Ironsides. I am assured.

Sir Benj. You are, by my soul: take my word for it, you are.

Ironsides. Well, well, what need of all this about a meal's meat? who doubts you?

ceremony

Sir Benj. You need not doubt me, believe it; I'll only step out, and ask my lady what time she has ordered dinner; or whether she has made any engagement I'm not apprized of.

Ironsides. No, no; engagement! how can that be, and you in this pickle? Come, come, sit down; dinner won't come the quicker for your inquiry: and now tell me, how does my god-daughter Sophia ?

Sir Benj. Thank you, heartily, Captain, my daughter's well in health.

Ironsides. That's well; and how fares your fine new wife? How goes on matrimony? Fond as ever, my little amorous Dove; always billing, always cooing?

Sir Benj. No, Captain, no; we are totally altered in that respect; we show no fondness now before company; my lady is so delicate in that particular, that from the little notice she takes of me in public, you would scarce believe we were man and wife.

Ironsides. Ha ha! ha! why'tis the very circumstance would confirm it; but I'm glad to hear it; for of all things under the sun I most nauseate your nuptial familiarities; and, though you remember I was fool enough to dissuade you from this match, I'm rejoiced to hear you manage so well and so wisely.

Sir Benj. No man happier in this life, Captain; no man happier; one thing only is wanting; had the kind stars but crowned our endearments

Ironsides. What, my lady don't breed, then?

Sir Benj. Hush, bush! for Heaven's sake, don't speak so loud; should my lady overhear you, it might put strange things into her head; oh! she is a lady of delicate spirits, tender nerves, quite weak and tender nerves; a small matter throws her down; gentle as a lamb; starts at a straw; speak loud, and it destroys her: oh! my friend, you are not used to deal with women's constitutions; these hypochondriac cases require a deal of management; 'tis but charity to humour them; and you cannot think what pains it requires to keep them always quiet and in temper. Ironsides. Ay, like enough.

Lady D. [Without.] Heyday! Sir Benjamin ! Ironsides. But here comes my lady, and in excellent temper, if her looks don't belie her.

Enter LADY Dove.

Lady D. What's to do now, Sir Benjamin? What's the matter that you send for your clothes in such a hurry? Can't you be contented to remain as you are? Your present dress is well enough to stay at home in; and I don't know that you have any call out of doors. Ironsides. Gentle as a lamb, Sir Benjamin.

Sir Benj. This attention of yours, my dear, is beyond measure flattering! I am infinitely beholden to you; but you are so taken up with your concern on my account, that you overlook our old friend and neighbour, Captain Ironsides.

Lady D. Sir Benjamin, you make yourself quite ridiculous: this folly is not to be endured; you are enough to tire the patience of any woman living.

Sir Benj. She's quite discomposed, all in a flutter for fear I should take cold by changing my dress. Ironsides. Yes, I perceive she has exceeding weak nerves. You are much in the right to humour her,

Lady D. Sir Benjamin Dove, if you mean that I should stay a minute longer in this house, I insist up

on your turning that old porpoise out of it: is it not enough to bring your nauseous sea companions within these doors, but must I be compelled to entertain them! Poh! I shan't get the scent of his tar-jacket out of my nostrils this fortnight.

Sir Benj. Hush, my dear Lady Dove! for Heaven's sake, don't shame and expose me in this manner! How can I possibly turn an honest gentleman out of my doors, who has given me no offence in life?

Lady D. Marry, but he has, though, and great offence too; I tell you, Sir Benjamin, you are made a fool of.

Sir Benj. Nay, now my dear, sweet love, be composed. Lady D. Yes, forsooth, and let a young, rambling, raking prodigal run away with your daughter! Sir Benj. How! what!

Lady D. A fine thing truly, to be composed--Ironsides. Who is it your ladyship suspects of such a design?

Lady D. Who, sir? why, who but your nephew, Robert? You flattered us with a false hope he was dead; but, to our sorrow, we find him alive, and returned: and now you are cajoling this poor, simple, unthinking man, while your wild Indian, your savage there, is making off with his daughter.

Sir Benj. Mercy on us! what am I to think of all this?

Ironsides. What are you to think! Why, that it is a lie that you are an ass--and that your wife is a termagant. My nephew is a lad of honour, and scorns to run away with any man's daughter, or wife either; though, I think, there's little danger of that here.-As for me, sooner than mess with such a vixen, I'd starve, and so, Sir Benjamin, I wish you a good stomach to your dinner. [Exit. Lady D. Insolent, unmannerly brute! was ever the like heard?--And you to stand tamely by!-I declare, I've a great mind to raise the servants upon