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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1815 edition. Excerpt:... long pcrriwig tied up in a bag--Lord, madam, he's clear another sort of a man than I. Mrs. S. That may easily be.--But what shall we do now, sister? Dor. I have it This fellow has a world of simplicity, and some cunning: the first hides the latter by abundance. Scrub Scrub. Madam Dor. We have a great mind to know who this gentleman is, only for our satisfaction. Scrub. Yes, madam, it would be a satisfaction, no doubt. Do1. You must go and get ac uainted with his footman, and invite hnn hither to rink a bottle of your ale, because you're butler to-day. Scrub. Yes, madam, I am butler every Sunday. Mrs. S. O brave, sister o'my conscience you understand the mathematics already._I'is the best plot in the world Your mother, you know, will be gone to church, my spouse will be got to the alehouse with his scoundrels, and the house will be our own--so we drop in by accident, and ask the fellow some questions ourselves. In the country, you know, any stranger is company, and we're glad to take up with the butler in'a country dance, and happy if he will do us the favour. Scrub. Oh, madam, you wrong me; I never refused your ladyship the favour in my life. Enter GIPSEY. Gip. Ladies, dinner's upon table. Dor. Scrub, we'll excuse your waiting.----Go where we ordered you. Scrub. I shall. SCENE II. The Inn. Enter AIMwELL and Aacmm. Arch. Well, Tom, I find you're a marksman. Aim. A marksman who so blind could be as not discern a swan among the ravens. Arch. Well, but harkye, Aimwell. Aim. Aimwell callme Oroondates, Cesario, Amadis, all that romance can in II lover paint, and then I'll answer. Oh, Archer I read her thousands in her looks; she luok'd like Ceres in her harvest; corn,...