Scrub. Because he speaks English as if he had lived here all his life, and tells lies as if he had been a traveller from his cradle.

Arch. And this priest, I’m afraid, has converted the affections of your Gipsy?

Scrub. Converted! ay, and perverted, my dear friend: for, I’m afraid, he has made her a whore and a papist! But this is not all; there’s the French count and Mrs. Sullen, they’re in the confederacy, and for some private ends of their own, to be sure.

Arch. A very hopeful family yours, brother Scrub! I suppose the maiden lady has her lover too?

Scrub. Not that I know: she’s the best on ’em, that’s the truth on’t: but they take care to prevent my curiosity, by giving me so much business, that I’m a perfect slave. What d’ye think is my place in this family?

Arch. Butler, I suppose.

Scrub. Ah, Lord help you! I’ll tell you. Of a Monday I drive the coach, of a Tuesday I drive the plough, on Wednesday I follow the bounds, a Thursday I dun the tenants, on Friday I go to market, on Saturday I draw warrants, and a Sunday I draw beer.

Arch. Ha! ha! ha! if variety be a pleasure in life, you have enough on’t my dear brother. But what ladies are those?

Scrub. Ours, ours; that upon the right hand is Mrs. Sullen and the other is Mrs. Dorinda. Don’t mind ’em; sit still, man.

Enter Mrs. Sullen and Dorinda.

Mrs. Sul. I have heard my brother talk of my Lord Aimwell; but they say that his brother is the finer gentleman.

Dor. That’s impossible, sister.

Mrs. Sul. He’s vastly rich, but very close, they say.

Dor. No matter for that; if I can creep into his heart, I’ll open his breast, I warrant him: I have heard say, that people may be guessed at by the behaviour of their servants; I could wish we might talk to that fellow.

Mrs. Sul. So do I; for I think he’s a very pretty fellow. Come this way, I’ll throw out a lure for him presently.

[Dorinda and Mrs. Sullen walk a turn towards the opposite side of the stage.

Arch. [aside]. Corn, wine, and oil indeed!—But, I think, the wife has the greatest plenty of flesh and blood; she should be my choice.—Ay, ay, say you so!—[Mrs. Sullen drops her glove, Archer runs, takes it up and gives to her.] Madam—your ladyship’s glove.

Mrs. Sul. O sir, I thank you!—[To Dorinda.] What a handsome bow the fellow has!

Dor. Bow! why, I have known several footmen come down from London set up here for dancing-masters, and carry off the best fortunes in the country.

Arch. [aside]. That project, for aught I know, had been better than oars.—[To Scrub.] Brother Scrub, why don’t you introduce me?

Scrub. Ladies, this is the strange gentleman’s servant that you saw at church to-day; I understood he came from London, and so I invited him to the cellar, that he might show me the newest flourish in whetting my knives.