The devil upon two sticks: a comedy, in three acts. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal in the Haymarket. Written by the late Samuel Foote, Esq. and now published by Mr. Colman.

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [titlepage]

- ADVERTISEMENT.

- DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

- ACT I. A Room.

- ACT II. A Street in London.

- ACT III. Scene a Street.

THE DEVIL UPON TWO STICKS.

FINIS.

THE DEVIL UPON TWO STICKS; A COMEDY. WRITTEN by Mr. FOOTE, PUBLISHED by Mr. COLMAN.

[Price One Shilling and Sixpence.]

THE DEVIL UPON TWO STICKS; A COMEDY, IN THREE ACTS. AS IT IS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL in the HAYMARKET. WRITTEN BY THE LATE SAMUEL FOOTE, Esq AND NOW PUBLISHED BY Mr. COLMAN.

LONDON, Printed by T. Sherlock, For T. CADELL, in the Strand. MDCCLXXVIII.

ADVERTISEMENT.

SOME copies of spurious impressions of the Cozeners and the Maid of Bath, having been printed and circulated before the application to the Court of Chancery for an Injunction, it has been thought advisable, in vindication of the property of the Editor, as well as in justice to the deceased Author, immediately to commit to the press genuine editions of the two dramatick pieces above-mentioned, together with THIS COMEDY, which had been also without authority advertised for publication.

On inspection of the spurious impressions, it appears, that all the errors of careless and ignorant transcribers are there religiously preserved; and all the additions and improvements, made by the facetious Writer, are omitted. Many instances of this will occur on perusal of those Comedies, and particularly the Cozeners; in which, besides the restoration of several passages always spoken on the stage, the Reader will find a whole scene, at the end of the First Act, and another, still more entertaining and popular, at the beginning of the Third; both which were wholly wanting in the spurious Impressions.

Unauthorized publications are not only always detrimental to private property, but commonly prove injurious to the publick: For the copies, being obtained by clandestine and indirect means, are, for the most part, as has happened in the present instance, incorrect and imperfect.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

DEVIL,

Mr. Foote.

Sir THOMAS MAXWELL,

Mr. Gardner.

INVOICE,

Mr. Du-Bellamy.

SLIGO, Doctors.

Mr. Moody.

BROADBRIM, Doctors.

Mr. Thompson.

OSASAFRAS, Doctors.

Mr. Egan.

FINGERFEE, Doctors.

Mr. Hutton.

CAMPHIRE, Doctors.

Mr.Fearon.

CALOMEL, Doctors.

Mr. Lings.

DIACHYLON, Doctors.

Mr. Lewis.

HABAKKUK, Doctors.

Mr. Pierce.

Dr. LAST,

Mr. Weston.

JOHNNY MACPHERSON,

Mr. Hamilton.

JULEP,

Mr. Palmer.

APOZEM,

Mr. Castle.

FORCEPS,

Mr. Stevens.

SECRETARY,

Mr. Loyd.

PRINTER'S DEVIL,

Mr. Jacobs.

MARGARET,

Mr. Gardner.

HARRIET,

Mrs. Jewell.

Servants, &c.

ACT I. A Room.

Enter Sir Thomas Maxwell and Margaret.

Sir Thomas.

WHY, the woman is mad! these curs'd news-paper patriots have shatter'd her brains! nothing less than a senator of seven years standing can conceive what she means.

Marg.

Why, Sir Thomas, my conversation is neither deficient in order, precision, or dignity.

Sir Tho.

Dignity! and what occasion for dignity in tne common concerns of my house? why the deuce can't you converse like the rest of the world? If you want money to pay off my bills, you move me for further supplies; if I turn away a servant, you condemn me for so often changing my ministry; and because I lock up my daughter, to prevent her eloping with the paltry clerk of a pitiful trader, it is forsooth an invasion of the Bill of Rights, and a mortal stab to the great Charter of Liberty.

Marg.

As Serjeant Second'em said in the debate on the corn-bill, ‘Then why don't you chuse better ground, brother, and learn to enlarge your bottom a little? Consider, you must draw the line of liberty somewhere; for if these rights belong’—

Sir Tho.

Mercy on us!

Marg.

But indeed, my dear brother, you are got quite out of your depth: Woman, I tell you, is a microcosm, and rightly to rule her requires as great talents, as to govern a state. And what says the Aphorism of Cardinal Polignac? ‘If you would not have a person deceive you, be careful not to let him know you mistrust him!’ and so of your daughter.

Sir Tho.

Mrs. Margaret Maxwell, bestow your advice where it is wanted! Out of my depth? a likely story indeed, that I, who am fix'd here in a national trust, appointed guardian of the English interest at the court of Madrid, should not know how to manage a girl!

Marg.

And pray, Mr. Consul, what information will your station afford you? I don't deny your knowledge in export and import, nor doubt your skill in the difference between wet and dry goods; you may weigh with exactness the ballance of trade, or explain the true spirit of a treaty of commerce; the surface, the mere skimmings of the political pot!

Sir Tho.

Mighty well!

Marg.

But had you, with me, traced things to their original source; had you discover'd all social subordination to arise from original compact; had you read Machiavel, Montesquieu, Locke, Bacon, Hobbes, Harrington, Hume; had you studied the political testaments of Alberoni and Cardinal Richlieu—

Sir Tho.

Mercy on us!

Marg.

Had you analiz'd the Pragmatic Sanction, and the family-compact; had you toil'd thro' the laborious page of the Vinerian professor, or estimated the prevailing manners with the Vicar of Newcastle; in a word, had you read Amicus upon Taxation, and Inimicus upon Representation, you would have known—

Sir Tho.

What?

Marg.

That, in spite of the frippery French Salick laws, woman is a free agent, a noun substantive entity, and, when treated with confidence——

Sir Tho.

Why, perhaps, she may not abuse it: But still, my sage sister, it is but a perhaps; now my method is certain, infallible; by confining her, I can't be deceiv'd.

Marg.

And pray, Sir, what right have you to confine her? look in your Puffendorff! tho' born in Spain, she is a native of England; her birth-right is liberty—a better patrimonial estate than any of your despotic countries could give her.

Sir Tho.

Zooks, you would tire the patience of Job! Pray answer me this; is Harriet my daughter?

Marg.

What then? for that inestimable blessing she is not beholden to you; nor can you, tho' a father, with reason, justice, or law, take it from her.

Sir Tho.

Why, Margaret, you forget where you are! This, child, is the town of Madrid; you are amongst a sage, steady people, who know and revere the natural rights of a parent.

Marg.

Natural rights! Can a right to tyrannize be founded in nature?

Sir Tho.

Look'ee, Margaret! you are but losing your time; for unless you can prevail on Count Wall, or the president of Castille, to grant you a Habeas, why Harriet shall stay where she is.

Marg.

Ay, ay, you know where you are; but, if my niece will take my advice, the justice that is denied to her here, she will instantly seek for elsewhere.

Sir Tho.

Elsewhere? hark you, sister! is it thus you answer my purpose in bringing you hither? I hop'd to have my daughter's principles form'd by your prudence; her conduct directed by your experience and wisdom.

Marg.

The preliminary is categorically true.

Sir Tho.

Then why don't you abide by the treaty?

Marg.

Yes; you have given me powerful motives!

Sir Tho.

But another word, madam! as I don't chuse that Harriet should imbibe any more of your romantic republican notions, I shall take it as a great favour if you would prepare to quit this country with the first opportunity.

Marg.

You need not have remonstrated; a petition would have answered your purpose: I did intend to withdraw, and without taking leave; nor will I reside on a spot where the great charter of my sex is hourly invaded! No, Sir Thomas, I shall return to the land of liberty! but there expect to have your despotic dealings properly and publickly handled.

Sir Tho.

What, you design to turn author?

Marg.

There's no occasion for that; liberty has already a champion in one of my sex: The same pen that has dar'd to scourge the arbitrary actions of some of our monarchs, shall do equal justice to the oppressive power of parents!

Sir Tho.

With all my heart.

Marg.

I may, perhaps, be too late to get you into the historical text; but, I promise you, you shall be soundly swinged in the marginal note.

Enter a Servant, who whispers Sir Thomas.

Sir Tho.

What! now?

Serv.

This instant.

Sir Tho.

How did he get in?

Serv.

By a ladder of ropes, dropped, I suppose, by Miss Harriet from the balcony.

Sir Tho.

That way, I reckon, he thinks to retreat; but I shall prevent him! Here, Dick, do you and Ralph run into the street, and front the house with a couple of carbines; bid James bring my toledo; and let the rest of the fellows follow my steps!

Marg.

Hey-day! what can be the meaning of this civil commotion?

Sir Tho.

Nothing extraordinary; only the natural consequence of some of your salutary suggestions.

Marg.

Mine, Sir Thomas?

Sir Tho.

Yes, yours, sister Margaret!

Marg.

I don't understand you.

Sir Tho.

Oh, nothing but Harriet making use of her great natural charter of liberty, by letting young Invoice, Abraham Indigo's clerk, by the means of a ladder of ropes, into her chamber.

Marg.

I am not surprized.

Sir Tho.

Nor I neither.

Marg.

The instant your suspicions gave her a guard, I told her the act was tantamount to an open declaration of war, and sanctified every stratagem.

Sir Tho.

You did? mighty well, madam! I hope then, for once, you will approve my proceedings; the law of nations shall be strictly observed; you shall see how a spy ought to be treated, who is caught in the enemy's camp!

Enter Servant with the toledo.

Oh, here's my trusty toledo. Come, follow your leader!Exit with Servants.

Marg.

Oh, Sir, I shall pursue, and reconoitre your motions; and tho' no cartel is settled between you, take care how you infringe the jus gentium. Exit Marg.

Another chamber. Harriet and Invoice discovered.

Har.

Are you sure you were not observed?

Inv.

I believe not.

Har.

Well, Mr. Invoice, you can, I think, now, no longer doubt of my kindness; tho', let me tell you, you are a good deal indebted for this early proof of it, to my father's severity.

Inv.

I am sorry; madam, an event, so happy for me, should proceed from so unlucky a cause: But are there no hopes that Sir Thomas may be softened in time?

Har.

None: He is, both from nature and habit, inflexibly obstinate. This too is his favourite foible; no German baron was ever more attached to the genealogical laws of alliance than he: Marry his daughter to a person in trade? no! Put his present favourite out of the question, he can never be brought to submit to it.

Inv.

Dear Miss Harriet, then why will you hesitate? there can be no other alternative; you must either submit to marry the count, or by flight escape from the—

Har.

No, Mr. Invoice, not till the last necessity drives me. Besides, where can we go? how subsist? whe will receive us?

Inv.

The world is all before us where to chuse; and, as we fly from oppression, Providence our guide.

Har.

The world, Mr. Invoice, is but a cold kind of common; and, as to Providence, let us first be sure we deserve its protection.— A noise without. Bless me! don't I hear some bustle below?

Inv.

Madam!

Har.

Hush! my father, as I live! I fear, Mr. Invoice, you are discovered.

Inv.

No, surely!

Sir Tho.

without. Have you secured all the posts?

Serv.

without. All, Sir.

Sir. Tho.

Both the front and the rear?

Serv.

Both.

Har.

Lost, past redemption!

Sir Tho.

Then advance! now let us unharbour the rascal!

Har.

What can we do?

Sir Tho.

Come, madam, open your doors!

Har.

The balcony, quick, Mr. Invoice, the balcony!

Sir Tho.

Unlock, Mrs. Minx! your minion is discovered!

Inv.

A couple of fellows stand below, with their pieces pointed directly against it.

Sir Tho.

What, then, you will compel us to batter?

Har.

The whole house is surrounded! how can you escape?

Inv.

Where will this window conduct us?

Har.

To the leads that join our house to the chymist's.

Inv.

To the leads? it is but a step; there is no danger.

Har.

Then instantly fly! you have every thing to fear from my father.

Sir Tho.

John, fetch the mattock and crow!

Inv.

And leave my Harriet behind me?

Har.

Secure yourself, and abandon me to my fate.

Inv.

No, madam, that I will never do; I'll dare your father's utmost resentment.

Sir Tho.

Where is that rascal a-loitering?

Har.

Then you are lost!

Inv.

Would my Harriet accompany my flight—

Har.

Can you desire it?

Inv.

I do, I do; my dearest angel, I do! By all that's sacred, your honour shall be as secure with me as in the cell of a saint!

Har.

But character, decency, prudence—

Inv.

The occasion, the danger, all justify—

Sir Tho.

Oh, what, you are come at last.

Inv.

Determine, my life! You have but a moment—

Har.

Should you, Mr. Invoice, deceive me—

Inv.

When I do, may my last hope deceive me!

Har.

It is a bold, a dangerous step!

Inv.

Fear, nothing, my love!

Advances to the window, and gets out.

Sir Tho.

Drive at the pannel.

Marg.

without. I enter my protest!

Sir Tho.

And I will enter the room!

Inv.

Now leap; all is safe.

Harriet gets out at the window.

Sir Thomas, adieu!

Sir Tho.

Wrench open the lock!

Marg.

Ay, do, at your peril!

Sir Tho.

Down with the door!

Marg.

Then you shall all be swingeingly sous'd. Produce your authority!

Sir Tho.

Mine.

Marg.

You have none; not so much as the sanction of a general warrant.

Sir Tho.

What, then, I see I must do it myself: There it goes! Pretty law indeed, to lock a man out of his own house!

Enter Sir Thomas, Margaret, and Servants.

Now, Mrs.—Heyday! what are become of the parties? vanished?

Marg.

Deceiv'd by your spies! no uncommon thing, brother, for a blundering general.

Sir Tho.

You are sure you saw him come in?

Serv.

Certain, Sir Thomas.

Sir Tho.

Then I warrant we will ferret them out. Come, lads! let not a corner escape you!

Exeunt Sir Tho. and Servants.

Marg.

I shall wait on your motions, and bring up the rear. Exit.

Scene changes to the Chymist's.

Enter Invoice and Harriet, through the sash.

Inv.

Safely landed, however.

Har.

Are you sure you are not pursued?

Inv.

Not a soul: Never fear! they will hardly venture this road.

Har.

What a step have you induced me to take! to what distress and difficulties have I exposed myself!

Inv.

Banish your fears, and let us look forward, my love.

Har.

Nay, I have gone too far to retreat. Well, Sir, what is next to be done?

Inv.

The Spaniards are naturally generous; perhaps, upon hearing our story, the owner of the house may lend his assistance. This, I suppose, is the Laboratory, and this door leads to the shop.

Devil

in a bottle. Heigh-ho!

Har.

Who is that?

Inv.

That! where?

Har.

Did not you hear a voice?

Inv.

None. Fancy, my love; only your feats.

Devil.

Heigh-ho!

Har.

There again!

Inv.

I hear it now.—Who is there?

Devil.

Me.

Inv.

Me? he speaks English! Who and where are you?

Devil.

Here in this bottle; where I have been cork'd up for these six months.

Inv.

Cork'd up in a bottle! I never heard of such a thing in my life, unless, indeed, in the Haymarket once.—Cork'd up in a bottle, d'ye say?

Devil.

Ay; by the master of this house, a magician.

Inv.

A magician! Why then you are a spirit, I suppose.

Devil.

You are right; I am the Devil.

Har.

Mercy on us!

Devil.

Don't be terrified, Miss: You remember the old proverb, ‘The Devil is not so black as he is painted.’

Inv.

Well, but, Sir—

Devil.

A truce to your questions, my good Sir, for the present!—Consider, ramm'd up in this narrow compass, I can't be much at my ease; now if you will but break the bottle before you on the floor——

Har.

For heaven's sake, Mr. Invoice, take care what you do!

Devil.

Why, my pretty Miss, what risque do you run? your affairs can hardly be changed for the worse.

Har.

That's true, indeed!

Devil.

Believe me, Miss, as matters stand, we can be of mutual use: Your lover may deliver me from prison, and I can prevent you both from going into confinement.

Inv.

What says my Harriet? shall I rely on the gentleman's word?

Devil.

Do, madam! I am a Devil of honour. Besides, you have but a little time to consider; in less than five minutes, you will have the Consul and all his crew in the house.

Inv.

Nay, then—Pray which is the bottle?

Devil.

That in the middle, right before you.

Inv.

There it goes!

He breaks the bottle, and Devil rises out of it. Thunder.

Har.

Oh, what a—

Devil.

I am not surpriz'd, Miss, that you are a little shock'd at my figure: I could have assum'd a much more agreeable form; but as we are to be a little better acquainted, I thought it best to quit all disguise and pretence; therefore, madam, you see me just as I am.

Har.

I am sure, Sir, you are ve—ve—very agreeable.

Devil.

Yo—yo—you are pleas'd to compliment, madam.—Come, answer me sincerely; am I such a being as you expected to see?

Har.

Really, Sir, I can hardly say what I expected to see.

Devil.

I own it is a puzzling question; at least, if the world does us justice in the contradictory qualities they are pleas'd to afford us.

Inv.

You will forgive me, if I don't understand you.

Devil.

Why, for all their superlative epithets, you cannot but see how much men are beholden to us; by our means it is that you measure the extent both of your virtues and vices.

Inv.

As how?

Devil.

As thus: In describing your friends, or your foes, they are devilish rich, devilish poor, devilish ugly, devilish handsome; now and then, indeed, to vary the mode of conversing, you make a little free with our condition and country, as, hellish dull, damn'd clever, hellish cold; Psha! how damn'd hot it is!

Inv.

True, Sir; but I consider this as a rhetorical figure, a manner of speaking devis'd and practis'd by dulness, to conceal the lack of ideas, and the want of expressions.

Devil.

Partly that, I confess: Not but there is some truth in the case; for at different times we have the power, and do assume the various forms, you assign us.

Inv.

We? I observe you always make use of the plural; is that, Sir, by way of distinction, or, is your family pretty large and extensive?

Devil.

Multitudinous as the sands on the beach, or the moats in a sun-beam: How the deuce else do you think we could do all the business below? Why, there's scarce an individual amongst you, at least of any rank or importance, but has five or six of us in his train.

Inv.

Indeed!

Devil.

A little before I got rammed in that phial, I had been for some time on very hard duty in this part of the world.

Inv.

Of what kind?

Devil.

The Daemon of Power and I had long laid siege to a subject, the man a grandee; I was then a popular spirit, and wore the mask of a patriot; at different times, we possessed him by turns; but, in the midst of a violent struggle (by which means I got lame on this leg, and obtained the nick-name of the Devil Upon Sticks), the Daemon of Vanity, a low under-strapper amongst us, held over his head a circle of gold, with five knobs on the top, and, whew! flew away with our prize in an instant.

Inv.

Under-strapper! what, are there different ranks and orders amongst you?

Devil.

Without doubt.

Inv.

And, pray, Sir—I hope, no offence; but I would not be wanting in proper respect— are you, when at home, of condition? or how must I—

Devil.

You mean, am I a Devil of fashion, or one of the base born?

Inv.

I do.

Devil.

I have no reason to be asham'd of my family.

Inv.

I don't doubt it. You will forgive me, if I make a mistake: Perhaps, my lord Lucifer.

Devil.

Who?

Inv.

Lord Lucifer.

Devil.

Lord Lucifer? how little you know of our folks! Lucifer a lord! Why, that's the meanest rascal amongst us.

Inv.

Indeed!

Devil.

Oh, a paltry mechanic! the very genius of jobbing! a mere Bull and Bear booby; the patron of lame ducks, brokers, and fraudulent bankrupts.

Inv.

You amaze me! I vow I always thought him a principal agent.

Devil.

He! Not at all. The fellow, indeed, gave himself some airs of importance, upon following the camp, and having the Contractors and Commissaries under his care; but that affair, you know, closed with the war.

Inv.

What, then, are they now entirely out of his hands?

Devil.

Yes; quite out of his: He only suggested their cent. per cent. squeezings, and prompted the various modes of extortion and rapine: But, in his room, they have six or seven Daemons a-piece, to direct the dissipation of their ill-gotten wealth.

Inv.

Indeed!

Devil.

Poor Lucifer, it is all over with him! if it were not for the fluctuation of India, an occasional lottery, or a contested election, the Alley would be empty, and Lucifer have as little to do as a pickpocket when the playhouses are shut.

Inv.

Perhaps, Sir, then your name may be Belzebub?

Devil.

He? worse and worse! Not a devil that has the least regard to his character would chuse to be seen in his company: Besides, it is the most petulant, waspish, quarrelsome cur— But no wonder; he is the imp of chicane, and protects the rotten part of the law.

Inv.

Then he, at least, has employment enough.

Devil.

Yes, during the Term, he has a good deal to do: He is the parent of quibbles, the guardian of pettifoggers, bad bail, and of bailiffs; the supporter of alibi's, the source of sham pleas, the maker and finder of flaws, the patron of perjury, and a sworn foe to all trials by jury! Not long ago, though, my gentleman was put to his shifts.

Inv.

How was that?

Devil.

The law had laid hold of an old friend of his, for being too positive as to a matter of fact; evidence, evasion, protraction, pleas, every art, was employed to acquit him, that the most consummate skill could suggest; but all to no purpose.

Inv.

That was strange.

Devil.

Beyond all belief; he could have hang'd a dozen innocent people, with half the pains that this paltry perjury gave him.

Inv.

How came that about?

Devil.

Why—I don't know—he had unfortunately to do with an obstinate magistrate, who bears a mortal hatred to rogues, and whose sagacity could not be deceived. But, however, tho' he was not able to save his friend from the shame of conviction (a trifle, which he indeed but little regarded), yet he had the address to evade, or at least defer, the time of his punishment.

Inv.

By what means?

Devil.

By finding a flaw.

Inv.

A flaw! what's a flaw?

Devil.

A legal loop-hole, that the lawyers leave open for a rogue now and then to creep through, that the game mayn't be wholly destroyed.

Inv.

Provident sportsmen! Would it not be too much trouble to favour me with this particular instance?

Devil.

Not at all. Why, Sir, when matters grew desperate, and the case was given over for lost, little Belzy starts up in the form of an able practitioner, and humbly conceived, that his client could not be convicted upon that indictment; forasmuch as therein he was charg'd with forswearing himself NOW; whereas it clearly appeared, by the evidence, that he had only forsworn himself THEN: If, indeed, he had been indicted generally, for committing perjury now AND then, proofs might be produced of any perjury he may have committed; whereas, by limiting the point of time to the now, no proofs could be admitted as to the then: So that, with submission, he humbly conceived, his client was clearly absolved, and his character as fair and as spotless as a babe that's just born, and immaculate as a sheet of white paper.

Inv.

And the objection was good?

Devil.

Fatal; there was no getting rid of the flaw.

Inv.

And the gentleman—

Devil.

Walks about at his ease; not a public place, but he thrusts his person full in your face.

Inv.

That ought not to be; the contempt of the Public, that necessary supplement to the best-digested body of laws, should in these cases be never dispensed with.

Devil.

In days of yore, when the world was but young, that method had merit, and the sense of shame was a kind of a curb; but knaves are now so numerous and wealthy, they can keep one another in countenance, and laugh at the rest of the world.

Inv.

There may be something in that.— Well, Sir, I have twice been out of my guess; will you give me leave to hazard a third? Perhaps you are Belphegor, or Uriel?

Devil.

Neither. They too are but diminutive devils: The first favours the petty, pilfering frauds; he may be traced in the double score and soap'd pot of the publican, the allum and chalk of the baker, in the sophisticated mixtures of the brewers of wine and of beer, and in the false measures and weights of them all.

Inv.

And Uriel?

Devil.

He is the Daemon of quacks and of mountebanks; a thriving race all over the world, but their true seat of empire is England: There, a short sword, a tye, and a nostrum, a month's advertising, with a shower of handbills, never fail of creating a fortune. But of this tribe I foresee I shall have occasion to speak hereafter.

Inv.

Well. but, Sir—

Devil.

Come, Sir, I will put an end to your pain; for, from my appearance, it is impossible you should ever guess at my person.—Now, Miss, what think you of Cupid.

Har.

You? you Cupid? you the gay god of love?

Devil.

Yes; me, me, Miss!—What, I suppose you expected the quiver at my back, and the bow in my hand; the purple pinions, and filleted forehead, with the blooming graces of youth and of beauty.

Har.

Why, I can't but say the poets had taught me to expect charms—

Devil.

That never existed but in the fire of their fancy; all fiction and phrenzy!

Inv.

Then, perhaps, Sir, these creative gentlemen may err as much in your office, as it is clear they have mistaken your person.

Devil.

Why, their notions of me are but narrow. It is true, I do a little business in the amorous way; but my dealings are of a different kind to those they describe.—My province lies in forming conjunctions absurd and preposterous: It is I that couple boys and beldames, girls and greybeards, together; and when you see a man of fashion lock'd in legitimate wedlock with the stale leavings of half the fellows in town, or a lady of fortune setting out for Edinburgh in a post-chaise with her footman, you may always set it down as some of my handywork. But this is but an inconsiderable branch of my business.

Inv.

Indeed?

Devil.

The several arts of, the drama, danceing, musick, and painting, owe their existence to me: I am the father of fashions, the inventor of quints, trente, quarante, and hazard; the guardian of gamesters, the genius of gluttony, and the author, protector, and patron of licentiousness, lewdness, and luxury.

Inv.

Your department is large.

Devil.

One time or other I may give you a more minute account of these matters; at present we have not a moment to lose: Should my tyrant return, I must expert to be again cork'd up in a bottle. Knocking. And hark! it is the consul that knocks at the door; therefore be quick! how can I serve you?

Inv.

You are no stranger, Sir, to our distress: Here, we are unprotected and friendless; could your art convey us to the place of our birth—

Devil.

To England?

Inv.

If you please.

Devil.

Without danger, and with great expedition. Come to this window, and lay hold of my cloak.—I have often resided in England: At present, indeed, there are but few of our family there; every seventh year, we have a general dispensation for residence; for at that time the inhabitants themselves can play the devil without our aid or assistance.—Off we go! stick fast to your hold!Thunder. Exeunt.

ACT II. A Street in London.

Enter Devil, Invoice, and Harriet.

Devil.

WELL, my good friends, I hope you are not displeased with your journey?

Inv.

We had no time to be tired.

Har.

No vehicle was ever so easy.

Devil.

Then, by you mortals what injustice is done us, when every crazy, creeking, jolting, jumbling coach, is called the devil of a carriage.

Inv.

Very true.

Devil.

Oh, amongst you we are horridly used.— Well, Sir, you now see I am a Devil of honour, and have punctually obeyed your commands: But I sha'n't limit my gratitude to a literal compliance with our compact; is there any thing else for your service?

Inv.

Were I not afraid to trespass too much on your time——

Devil.

A truce to your compliments! Tho' they are the common change of the world, we know of what base metal the coin is composed, and have cried down the currency: Speak your wishes at once.

Inv.

England, Sir, is our country, it is true; but Miss Maxwell being born abroad, and my leaving it young, have made us both as much strangers to its manners and customs, as if you had set us down at Ispahan or Delhi: Give us, then, some little knowledge of the people with whom we are to live.

Devil.

That task, young gentleman, is too much even for the Devil himself! Where liberty reigns, and property is pretty equally spread, independence and pride will give each individual a peculiar and separate character: When classed in professions, indeed, they then wear some singular marks that distinguish them from the rest of their race; these it may be necessary for you to know.

Inv.

You will highly oblige me.

Devil.

And at the same time that I am shewing you persons, I will give you some little light into things. Health and property you know are the two important objects of human attention: You shall first see their state and situation in London.

Inv.

You mean the practice of physick and law?

Devil.

I do. And as to the first, you will find it, in some of the professors, a science, noble, salutary, and liberal; in others, a trade, as mean as it is mercenary; a contemptible combination of dunces, nurses, and apothecaries: But you have now a lucky opportunity of knowing more in an hour of the great improvements in this branch of civil society, than, by any other means, seven years could have taught you.

Inv.

Explain, if you please.

Devil.

The spirit of Discord prevails: The republic of tied periwigs, like the Romans of old, have turned their arms from the rest of mankind, to draw their short swords on themselves.

Inv.

But how came this about?

Devil.

To carry on the metaphor, you must know, in this great town, there are two corps of these troops, equally numerous, and equally formidable: The first, it is true, are disciplined, and fight under a general, whom they christen a President: The second contains the hussars, and pandours of physick; they rarely attack a patient together; not but the latter single-handed can do good execution.

Inv.

But their cause of contention?

Devil.

Pride. The light troops are jealous of some honours the others possess by prescription, and, though but a militia, think they have right to an equal rank with the regulars.

Inv.

Why, this in time may ruin their state.

Devil.

True; but that we must prevent; it is our interest to make up this breach: Already we feel the fatal effects of their feuds: By neglecting their patients, the weekly bills daily decline, and new subjects begin to grow scarce in our realms.

Inv.

This does, indeed, claim your attention.

Devil.

We purpose to call in the aid of the law; bleeding the purse is as effectual for damping the spirit, as opening a vein for lowering the pulse: The Daemon of Litigation has already possessed the Licentiates; I must infuse the same passion into the President; and I warrant you, in two or three terms, with two or three trials, all sides will be heartily tired. But, a-propos! I see a brace of apothecaries coming this way; they seem deep in debate: Let us listen; we shall best learn from them the present posture of—Hush, hide!—You shall here too have a proof what a Proteus I am. They retire.

Enter Julep and Apozem, with a letter.

Julep.

I tell you, Apozem, you are but young in the business, and don't foresee how much we shall be all hurt in the end.

Apozem.

Well, but what can be done, Mr. Julep? Here Dr. Hellebore writes me word, that they threaten a siege, and are provided with fire-arms: Would you have them surrender the College at once?

Julep.

Fire-arms? If they are mad enough not to know that the pen is the doctor's best pistol, why, let them proceed!

Apozem.

But are we to stand quietly by, and see the very seat of the science demolished and torn?

Julep.

And with what arms are we to defend it? where are our cannon? We have mortars indeed, but then they are fit to hold nothing but pestles; and, as to our small arms, of what use can they be in a siege? they are made, you know, to attack only the rear.

Apozem.

Come, come, Mr. Julep, you make too light of these matters: To have the lawful descendants from Galen, the throne of Esculapius, overturned by a parcel of Goths!

Julep.

Peace, Apozem, or treat your betters with proper respect! What, numskull, do you think all physicians are blockheads, who have not washed their hands in the Cam or the Isis?

Apozem.

Well, but I hope you will allow that a university-doctor—

Julep.

May, for aught you know, be a dunce. Besides, fool, what have we to do with degrees? The doctor that doses best is the best doctor for us. You talk of the College; there are some of their names, I am sure, that I never desire to see on my file.

Apozem.

Indeed!

Julep.

Indeed? no, indeed. Why, there's Dr. Diet, that makes such a dust: He had a person of fashion, a patient of mine, under his care t'other day; as fine a slow fever! I was in hopes of half making my fortune—

Apozem.

Yes; I love a slow fever. Was it nervous?

Julep.

Ay; with a lovely dejection of spirits.

Apozem.

That was delightful, indeed! I look upon the nerves and the bile to be the two best friends we have to our back.—Well, pray, and how did it answer?

Julep.

Not at all; the scoundrel let him slip through my hands for a song; only a paltry six pounds and a crown.

Apozem.

Shameful!

Julep.

Infamous! and yet, forsooth, he was one of your College. Well, now to shew you the difference in men; but the very week after, Dr. Linctus, from Leyden, run me up a bill of thirty odd pounds, for only attending Alderman Soakpot six days in a surfeit.

Apozem.

Ay, that was doing of business.

Julep.

Ah! that's a sweet pretty practitioner, Apozem: We must all do our utmost to push him.

Apozem.

Without doubt. But, notwithstanding all that you say, Mr. Julep, there are some of the gentlemen of the College, that I know—

Julep.

Ah! as fine fellows as ever fingered a pulse; not one of the trade will deny it.

Apozem.

But, amongst all now, old Nat Nightshade is the man for my money.

Julep.

Yes; Nat, Nat has merit, I own; but, pox take him! he is so devilish quick: To be sure, he has a very pretty fluent pen whilst it lasts; but then he makes such dispatch, that one has hardly time to send in two dozen of draughts.

Apozem.

Yes; the doctor drives on, to be sure.

Julep.

Drives on! If I am at all free in the house when old Nightshade is sent for, as a preparatory dose I always recommend an attorney.

Apozem.

An attorney? for what?

Julep.

To make the patient's will, before he swallows the doctor's prescription.

Apozem.

That is prudent.

Julep.

Yes; I generally afterwards get the thanks of the family.

Apozem.

What, Mr. Julep, for the attorney, or the physician? ha, ha!

Julep.

Ha, ha! you are arch, little Apozem; quite a wag, I profess.

Apozem.

Why, you know, brother Julep, these are subjects upon which one can hardly be serious.

Julep.

True, true; but then you should never laugh loud in the street: We may indulge, indeed, a kind of simpering smile to our patients, as we drive by in our chariots; but then there is a decency, not to say dignity, that becomes the publick deméanour of us, who belong to the faculty.

Apozem.

True. And yet there are times when one can hardly forbear: Why, t'other day now I had like to have burst: I was following a funeral into St. George's—a sweet pretty burying; velvet pall, hatband and gloves; and, indeed, the widow was quite handsome in all things; paid my bill the next week, without sconcing off sixpence, though they were thought to have lived happily together—but, as I was a-saying, as we were entering the church, who should stand in the porch but Kit Cabbage the taylor, with a new pair of breeches under his arm: The sly rogue made me a bow, "Servant, master Apozem!" says he; "what, you are carrying home your work too, I see." Did you ever hear such a dog?

Julep.

Ay, ay; let them, let them—But, is not that Dr. Squib that is crossing the way?

Apozem.

Yes; you may see it is Squib, by his shuffle. What, I suppose now he is scouring away for the College.

Julep.

Who? Squib? how little you know of him! he did not care if all our tribe was tipped into the Thames.

Apozem.

No!

Julep.

No? Lord help you! he is too much taken up with the national illness, to attend to particular ails: Why, he would quit the best patient in town, to hunt after a political secret; and would rather have a whisper from a great man in the Court of Requests, than five hundred pounds for attending him in a chronical case.

Apozem.

Wonderful!—Who can that dirty boy be that he has in his hand?

Julep.

One of his scouts, I suppose.—We shall see.

Re-enter Devil, as Dr. Squib, and Printer's Devil.

Squib.

And you are sure this was worked off one of the first?

Boy.

Not a single one, Sir, has been sent out as yet.

Squib.

That is daintily done, my dear devil! Here, child, here's sixpence. When your master gives you the rest, you need not be in haste to deliver them, but step into the first publick-house to refresh you.

Boy.

I shall, Sir.

Squib.

By that means, I shall be earliest to treat two or three great men that I know with the sight.

Boy.

No further commands, Sir?

Squib.

None, child.—But, d'ye hear? if you can at any time get me the rough reading of any tart political manuscript, before it goes to the press, you sha'n't be a loser.

Boy.

I shall try, Sir.

Squib.

That's well! Mind your business, and go on but as you begin, and I foresee your fortune is made: Come, who knows but in a little time, if you are a good boy, you may get yourself committed to Newgate.

Boy.

Ah, Sir, I am afraid I am too young.

Squib.

Not at all: I have seen lads in limbo much younger than you. Come, don't be faint-hearted; there has many a printer been raised to the pillory from as slender beginnings.

Boy.

That's great comfort, however. Well, Sir, I'll do my endeavour. Exit.

Squib.

Do, do!—What, Apozem! Julep! well encountered, my lads! You are a couple of lucky rogues! Here, here's a treat for a prince; such a print, boys! just fresh from the plate: Feel it; so wet you may wring it.

Julep.

And pray, good doctor, what is the subject?

Squib.

Subject? Gad take me, a trimmer! this will make some folks that we know look about them: Hey, Julep, don't you think this will sting?

Julep.

I profess I don't understand it.

Squib.

No? Why, zounds, it is as plain as a pikestaff; in your own way too, you blockhead! Can't you see? Read, read the title, you rogue! But, perhaps you can't without spectacles. Let me see; ay, ‘The State-Quacks; or, Britannia a-dying:’ You take it?

Julep.

Very well.

Squib.

There you see her stretched along on a pallet; you may know she is Britannia, by the shield and spear at the head of her bed.

Apozem.

Very plain; for all the world like the wrong side of a halfpenny!

Squib.

Well said, little Apozem! you have discernment, I see. Her disease is a lethargy; you see how sick she is, by holding her hand to her head; don't you see that?

Julep.

I do, I do.

Squib.

Well then, look at that figure there upon her left-hand.

Julep.

Which?

Squib.

Why, he that holds a draught to her mouth.

Julep.

What, the man with the phial?

Squib.

Ay, he! he with the phial: That is supposed to be— whispers. offering her laudanum, to lull her faster asleep.

Julep.

Laudanum! a noble medicine when administered properly: I remember once, in a locked jaw—

Squib.

Damn your lock'd jaw! hold your prating, you puppy! I wish your jaws were lock'd! Pox take him, I have forgot what I was going to! Apozem, where did I leave off?

Apozem.

You left off at faster asleep.

Squib.

True; I was faster asleep. Well then; you see that thin figure there, with the meagre chaps; he with the straw in his hand.

Apozem.

Very plain.

Squib.

He is supposed to be— whispers You take me?

Julep.

Ay, ay.

Squib.

Who rouzes Britannia, by tickling her nose with that straw; she starts, and with a jerk— starting, strikes Julep. I beg pardon!—and with a jerk knocks the bottle of laudanum out of his hand; and so, by that there means, you see, Britannia is delivered from death.

Julep.

Ay, ay.

Squib.

Hey! you swallow the satire? Pretty bitter, I think?

Julep.

I can't say that I quite understand—that is—a—a—

Squib.

Not understand? then what a fool am I to throw away my time on a dunce! I shall miss too the reading a new pamphlet in Red-Lion-Square; and at six I must be at Serjeant's-Inn, to justify bail for a couple of journeymen printers.

Apozem.

But, Dr. Squib, you seem to have forgot the case of the College, your brethren.

Squib.

I have no time to attend their trifling squabbles: The nation, the nation, Mr. Apozem, engrosses my care. The College! could they but get me a stiptic to stop the bleeding wounds of my—it is there, there, that I feel! Oh, Julep, Apozem,

Could they but cast the water of this land,

Purge her gross humours, purify her blood,

And give her back her pristine health again,

I would applaud them to the very echo

That should applaud again!

Julep.

Indeed, Dr. Squib, that I believe is out of the way of the College.

Squib.

Throw physic to the dogs then! I'll have none of't.

But tell me, Apozem, inform me, Julep,

What senna, rhubarb, or what purgative drug,

Can scour these—hence?

You understand me, lads!

Julep.

In good truth, not I, Sir.

Squib.

No! then so much the better! I warrant little Pozy does.—Well, adieu, my brave boys! for I have not an instant to lose. Not understand me, hey? Apozem, you do, you rogue?— ‘What senna, rhubarb, or—hey—can scour these Sc—’ Egad, I had like to have gone too far!—Well, bye, bye!Exit Squib.

Julep.

Why, the poor man seems out of his senses.

Apozem.

When he talked of throwing physic to the dogs, I confess I began to suspect him. But we shall be late▪ we must attend our summons, you know.

Julep.

Throw physic to the dogs! I can tell thee, Apozem, if he does not get cured of these fancies and freaks, he is more likely to go to the kennel by half. Throw physic to the dogs! an impertinent ignorant puppy!Exeunt.

Re-enter Devil, Invoice, and Harriet.

Devil.

Well, I think chance has thrown a pretty good sample into your way. Now, if I could but get one to conduct you—But stay! who have we here?

Enter Last, with a pair of shoes.

Last.

Pray, good gentleman, can you tell a body which is the ready road to find Warwick-lane?

Devil.

Warwick-lane, friend? and prithee what can thy errand be there?

Last.

I am going there to take out a licence to make me a doctor, an like your worship.

Devil.

Where do you live?

Last.

A little way off, in the country.

Devil.

Your name, honest friend, and your business?

Last.

My name, master, is Last; by trade I am a doctor, and by profession a maker of shoes: I was born to the one, and bred up to the other.

Devil.

Born? I don't understand you.

Last.

Why, I am a seventh son, and so were my father.

Devil.

Oh! a very clear title. And pray, now, in what branch does your skill chiefly lie?

Last.

By casting a water, I cures the jaundarse; I taps folks for a tenpenny; and have a choice charm for the agar; and, over and above that, master, I bleeds.

Devil.

Bleeds? and are your neighbours so bold as to trust you?

Last.

Trust me? ay, master, that they will, sooner than narra a man in the country. Mayhap you may know Dr. Tyth'em our rector at home.

Devil.

I can't say that I do.

Last.

He's the flower of a man in the pulpit. Why, t'other day, you must know, taking a turn in his garden, and thinking of nothing at all, down falls the doctor flat in a fit of perplexity; Madam Tyth'em, believing her husband was dead, directly sent the sexton for I.

Devil.

An affectionate wife!

Last.

Yes; they are a main happy couple. Sure as a gun, master, when I comed, his face was as black as his cassock: But, howsomdever, I took out my launcelot, and forthwith opened a large artifice here in one of the juglers: The doctor bled like a pig.

Devil.

I dare say.

Last.

But it did the business, howsomdever; I compassed the job.

Devil.

What, he recovered?

Last.

Recovered? Lord help you! why, but last Sunday was se'nnight—to be sure, the doctor is given to weeze a little, because why, he is main opulent, and apt to be tisicky—but he composed as sweet a discourse—I slept from beginning to end.

Devil.

That was composing, indeed.

Last.

Ay, warn't it, master, for a man that is strucken in years?

Devil.

Oh, a wonderful effort!

Last.

Well, like your worship, and, besides all this I have been telling you, I have a pretty tight hand at a tooth.

Devil.

Indeed!

Last.

Ay; and I'll say a bold word, that, in drawing a thousand, I never stumpt a man in my life: Now let your Rasperini's, and all your foreign mounseers, with their fine dainty freeches, say the like if they can.

Devil.

I defy them.

Last.

So you may. Then, about a dozen years ago, before these here Suttons made such a noise, I had some thoughts of occupying for the small-pox.

Devil.

Ay; that would have wound up your bottom at once. And, why did not you?

Last.

Why, I don't know, master; the neighbours were frightful, and would not consent; otherwise, by this time, 'tis my belief, men, women, and children, I might have occupied twenty thousand at least.

Devil.

Upon my word!—But, you say a dozen years, master Last: As you have practised physic without permission so long, what makes you now think of getting a licence?

Last.

Why, it is all along with one Lotion, a pottercarrier, that lives in a little town hard by we; he is grown old and lascivious, I think, and threatens to present me at size, if so be I practize any longer.

Devil.

What, I suppose you run away with the business?

Last.

Right, master; you have guessed the matter at once. So I was telling my tale to Sawney M'Gregor, who comes now and then to our town with his pack; God, he advised me to get made a doctor at once, and send for a diplummy from Scotland.

Devil.

Why, that was the right road, master Last.

Last.

True. But my master Tyth'em tells me, that I can get it done for pretty near the same price here in London; so, I had rather, d'ye see, lay out my money at home, than transport it to foreign parts, as we say; because why, master, I thinks there has too much already gone that road.

Devil.

Spoke like an Englishman!

Last.

I have a pair of shoes here, to carry home to farmer Fallow's son, that lives with master Grogram the mercer hard by here in Cheapside; so I thought I might as well do both businesses under one.

Devil.

True. Your way, master Last, lies before you; the second street, you must turn to the left; then enter the first great gates that you see.

Last.

And who must I aks for?

Devil.

Oh, pull out your purse; you will find that hint sufficient: It is a part of the world where a fee is never refused.

Last.

Thank you, master! You are main kind; very civil indeed! Going, returns. I wish, master, you had now either the agar or jaundarse; I would set you right in a trice.

Devil.

Thank you, master Last; but I am as well as I am.

Last.

Or, if so be you likes to open a vein, or would have a tooth or two knocked out of your head, I'll do it for nothing.

Devil.

Not at present, I thank you! when I want, I'll call at your house in the country.

Exit Last.

Well, my young couple, and what say you now?

Inv.

Say, Sir? that I am more afraid of being sick, than ever I was in my life.

Devil.

Pho! you know nothing as yet. But, my time draws nigh for possessing the President: If I could but get some intelligent person, to conduct you to the place where the Licentiates assemble—There seems a sober, sedate-looking lad; perhaps he may answer our purpose. Hark'ee, young man!

Enter Johnny Macpherson.

Macp.

What's your wul, Sir? would you spear aught wi me?

Devil.

Though I think I can give a good guess, pray from what part of the world may you come?

Macp.

My name is Johnny Macpherson, and I came out of the North.

Devil.

Are you in business at present?

Macp.

I conna say that, Sir, nor that I am inteerely dastitute neither; but I sal be unco glad to get a mair solid estaablishment.

Devil.

Have you been long in this town?

Macp.

Aboot a month awa, Sir: I launded fra Leith, in the gude ship the Traquair, Davy Donaldson maister, and am lodged wi Sawney Sinclair, at the sign o'the Ceety of Glascow, not far fra the Monument.

Devil.

But you are in employment?

Macp.

Ay, for some paart of the day.

Devil.

And to what may your profits amount?

Macp.

Ah! for the mater of that, it is a praty smart little income.

Devil.

Is it a secret how much?

Macp.

Not at aw: I get three-pence an hour for larning Latin to a physician in the ceety.

Devil.

The very man that we want.—Latin! and, what, are you capable?

Macp.

Cappable! Hut awa, mon! Ken ye, that I was heed of the humanity-class for mair than a twalvemonth? and was offered the chair of the gramatical professorship in the College, which amunts to a mater of sux pounds British a year.

Devil.

That's more than I knew. Can you guess, Sir, where your scholar is now?

Macp.

It is na long, Sir, that I laft him conning his As in praesenti; after which, he talked of ganging to meet some freends o' the faculty, aboot a sort of a squabble, that he says is sprang up among them; he wanted me to gang along wi him, as I had gi'n mysel to study madicine a little, before I quitted the North.

Devil.

Do you know the publick-house where they meet?

Macp.

Yes, yes; unco weel, Sir; it is at the tavern the South side of Paul's Kirk.

Devil.

Will you take the trouble to conduct this young couple thither? they will amply reward you.—You and your partner will follow this lad. Fear nothing! by my art, you are invisible to all but those that you desire should see you. At the College we shall rejoin one another; for thither the Licentiates will lead you.

Inv.

But how shall we be able to distinguish you from the rest of the Fellows?

Devil.

By my large wig, and superior importance; in a word, you must look for me in the PRESIDENT.

Inv.

Adieu!Exeunt.

ACT III. Scene a Street.

Fingerfee, Sligo, Osasafras, Broadbrim, other Doctors, and Macpherson, discovered.

Fingerfee.

NO; I can't help thinking this was by much the best method. If, indeed, they refuse us an amicable entrance, we are then justified in the use of corrosives.

Sligo.

I tell you, Dr. Fingerfee—I am sorry, d'ye see, to differ from so old a practitioner; but I don't like your prescription at all, at all: For what signifies a palliative regiment, with such a rotten constitution? May I never finger a pulse as long as I live, if you get their voluntary consent to go in, unless indeed it be by compulsion.

Osas.

I entirely coincide with my very capable countryman Dr. Sligo, d'ye see; and do give my advice, in this consultation, for putting the whole College under a course of steel, without further delay.

Sligo.

I am much obligated to you for your kind compliment, doctor. But, pray; what may your name be?

Osas.

Dr. Osasafras, at your humble service.

Sligo.

I am your very obadient alsho! I have hard tell of your name. But what did you mane by my countryman? Pray, doctor, of what nation are you?

Osas.

Sir, I have the honour to be a native of Ireland.

Sligo.

Osasafras? that's a name of no note; he is not a Milesian, I am sure. The family, I suppose, came over t'other day with Strongbow, not above seven or eight hundred years ago; or perhaps a descendant from one of Oliver's drummers.—'Pon my conscience, doctor, I should hardly belave you were Irish.

Osas.

What, Sir, d'ye doubt my veracity?

Sligo.

Not at all, my dear doctor; it is not for that: But, between me and yourself, you have lived a long time in this town.

Osas.

Like enough.

Sligo.

Ay; and was here a great while before ever I saw it.

Osas.

What of that?

Sligo.

Very well, my dear doctor: Then, putting that and t'other together, my notion of the upshot is, that if so be you are a native of Ireland, upon my conscience, you must have been born there very young.

Osas.

Young? ay, to be sure: Why, my soul, I was christened there.

Sligo.

Ay!

Osas.

Ay, was I, in the county of Meath.

Sligo.

Oh, that alters the property; that makes it as clear as Fleet-Ditch. I should be glad, countryman, of your nearer acquaintance.— But what little slim doctor is that, in his own head of hair? I don't recollect to have seen his features before.

Osas.

Nor I, to my knowledge.

Sligo.

Perhaps he may be able to tell me, if I aks him himself.—I am proud to see you, doctor, on this occasion; becaase why, it becomes every jontleman that is of the faculty—that is, that is not of their faculty; you understand me—to look about him and stir.

Macp.

Oh, by my troth, you are right, Sir: The leemiting of physic aw to ain hoose, caw it a College, or by what denomination you wul, it is at best but estaablishing a sort of monopoly.

Sligo.

'Pon my conscience, that is a fine observation. By the twist of your tongue, doctor, (no offence) I should be apt to guess that you might be a foreigner born.

Macp.

Sirr!

Sligo.

From Russia, perhaps, or Muscovy?

Macp.

Hutawa, mon! not at aw: Zounds, I am a Breeton.

Sligo.

Then, I should suppose, doctor, pretty far to the northward.

Macp.

Ay; you are right, Sir.

Sligo.

And pray, doctor, what particular branch of our business may have taken up the most of your time?

Macp.

Botany.

Sligo.

Botany! in what college?

Macp.

The university of St. Andrews.

Osas.

Pray, doctor, is not botany a very dry sort of a study?

Sligo.

Most damnably so in those parts, my dear doctor; for all the knowledge they have they must get from dried herbs, becaase the devil of any green that will grow there.

Macp.

Sir, your information is wrong.

Sligo.

Come, my dear doctor, hold your palaver, and don't be after puffing on us, becaase why, you know in your conscience that in your part of the world you get no cabbage but thistles; and those you are oblig'd to raise upon hotbeds.

Macp.

Thistles! zounds, Sir, d'ye mean to affront me?

Sligo.

That, doctor, is as you plaases to taake it.

Macp.

God's life, Sir, I would ha' you to ken, that there is narra a mon wi his heed upon his shoulders that dare—

Fing.

Peace, peace, gentlemen! let us have no civil discord. Doctor Sligo is a lover of pleasantry; but, I am sure, had no design to affront you: A joke, nothing else.

Macp.

A joke! ah; I like a joke weel enough; but I did na understond the doctor's gibing and geering: Perhaps my wut may not be aw together as sharp as the doctor's, but I have a sword, Sir—

Sligo.

A sword, Sir!

Fing.

A sword! ay, ay; there is no doubt but you have both very good ones; but reserve them for—Oh! here comes our ambassador.

Enter Diachylon.

Well, Dr. Diachylon, what news from the College? will they allow us free ingress and egress?

Diac.

I could not get them to swallow a single demand.

All.

No?

Sligo.

Then let us drive there, and drench them.

Diac.

I was heard with disdain, and refus'd with an air of defiance.

Sligo.

There, gentlemen! I foretold you what would happen at first.

All.

He did, he did.

Sligo.

Then we have nothing for it, but to force our passage at once.

All.

By all means; let us march!

Broad.

Friend Fingerfee, would our brethren but incline their ears to me for a minute—

Fing.

Gentlemen, Dr. Broadbrim desires to be heard.

All.

Hear him, hear him!

Sligo.

Paw, honey, what signifies hearing? I long to be doing, my jewel!

Fing.

But hear Dr. Melchisedech Broadbrim, however.

All.

Ay, ay; hear Dr. Broadbrim!

Broad.

Fellow-labourers in the same vineyard! ye know well how much I stand inclined to our cause; forasmuch as not one of my brethen can be more zealous than I—

All.

True, true.

Broad.

But ye wot also, that I hold it not meet or wholsome to use a carnal weapon, even for the defence of myself; much more unseemly then must I deem it to draw the sword for the offending of others.

Sligo.

Paw! brother doctors, don't let him bother us, with his yea and nay nonsense!

Broad.

Friend Sligo, do not be cholerick; and know, that I am as free to draw my purse in this cause, as thou art thy sword: And thou wilt find, at the length, notwithstanding thy swaggering, that the first will do us best service.

Sligo.

Well, but—

All.

Hear him, hear him!

Broad.

It is my notion, then, brethren, that we do forthwith send for a sinful man in the flesh, called an attorney.

Sligo.

An attorney!

Broad.

Ay, an attorney; and that we do direct him to take out a parchment instrument, with a seal fixed thereto.

Sligo.

Paw, pox! what good can that do?

Broad.

Don't be too hasty, friend Sligo.— And therewith, I say, let him possess the outward tabernacle of the vain man, who delighteth to call himself President, and carry him before the men cloathed in lambskin, who at Westminster are now sitting in judgment.

Sligo.

Paw! a law-suit! that won't end with our lives.—Let us march!

All.

Ay, ay.

Sligo.

Come, Dr. Habakkuk, will you march in the front or the rear?

Hab.

Pardon me, doctor! I cannot attend you.

Sligo.

What, d'ye draw back, when it comes to the push?

Hab.

Not at all; I would gladly join in putting these Philistines to slight; for I abhor them worse than hogs' puddings; in which the unclean beast and the blood are all jumbled together.

Sligo.

Pretty food; for all that.

Hab.

But this is Saturday; and I dare not draw my sword on the Sabbath.

Sligo.

Then stay with your brother Melchisedech; for tho' of different religions, you are both of a kidney. Come, doctors; out with your swords! Huzza! and now for the Lane! Huzza!Exeunt.

Manent Broadbrim and Habakkuk.

Broad.

Friend Habakkuk, thou seest how headstrong and wilful these men are; but let us use discretion, however. Wilt thou step to the Inn that taketh its name from the city of Lincoln? enquire there for a man, with a red rag at his back, a small black cap on his pate, and a bushel of hair on his breast? I think they call him a serjeant.

Hab.

They do.

Broad.

Then, without let or delay, bring him hither, I pray thee.

Hab.

I will about it this instant.

Broad.

His admonition, perhaps, may prevail. Use dispatch, I beseech thee, friend Habakkuk.

Hab.

As much as if I was posting to the Treasury, to obtain a large subscription in a new loan, or a lottery.

Broad.

Nay, then, friend, I have no reason to fear thee. Exeunt.

The College.

Devil (as Hellebore, the President), Camphire, Calomel, Secretary, and Pupils, discovered.

Sec.

The Licentiates, Sir, will soon be at hand.

Hel.

Let them!

Cal.

We will do our duty, however; and, like the patricians of old, receive with silence these Visigoths in the senate.

Hel.

I am not, Dr. Calomel, of so pacific a turn: Let us keep the evil out of doors, if we can; if not, vim vi, repel force by force.— Barricado the gates!

Sec.

It is done.

Hel.

Are the buckets and fire-engine fetched from St. Dunstan's?

Sec.

They have been here, Sir, this half-hour.

Hel.

Let twelve apothecaries be placed at the pump, and their apprentices supply 'em with water!

Sec.

Yes, Sir.

Hel.

But let the engine be play'd by old Jollup, from James-street! Not one of the trade has a better hand at directing a pipe.

Sec.

Mighty well, Sir.

Hel.

In the time of siege, every citizen ought in duty to serve.—Having thus, brothers, provided a proper defence, let us coolly proceed to our business. Is there any body here, to demand a licence to-day?

Sec.

A practitioner, Mr. President, out of the country.

Hel.

Are the customary fees all discharged?

Sec.

All, Sir.

Hel.

Then let our censors, Dr. Christopher Camphire, and Dr. Cornelius Calomel, introduce the petitioner for examination.

Exeunt Camphire and Calomel.

After this duty is dispatch'd, we will then read the College and Students a lecture.

Enter Camphire and Calomel, with Last.

Last.

First, let me lay down my shoes.

They advance, with three bows, to the table.

Hel.

Let the candidate be placed on a stool. What's the Doctor's name?

Sec.

Emanuel Last, Mr. President.

Hel.

Dr. Last, you have petition'd the College, to obtain a licence for the practice of physic; and though we have no doubt of your great skill and abilities, yet our duty compels us previously to ask a few questions: What academy had the honour to form you?

Last.

Anan!

Hel.

We want to know the name of the place, where you have studied the science of physic.

Last.

Dunstable.

Hel.

That's some German university; so he can never belong to the College.

All.

Never; oh, no.

Hel.

Now, Sir, with regard to your physiological knowledge. By what means, Dr. Last, do you discover that a man is not well?

Last.

By his complaint that he is ill.

Hel.

Well replied! no surer prognostic.

All.

None surer.

Hel.

Then, as to recovering a subject that is ill—Can you venture to undertake the cure of an ague?

Last.

With arra a man in the country.

Hel.

By what means?

Last.

By a charm.

Hel.

And pray of what materials may that charm be compos'd?

Last.

I won't tell; 'tis a secret.

Hel.

Well replied! the College has no right to pry into secrets.

All.

Oh, no; by no means.

Hel.

But now, Dr. Last, to proceed in due form; are you qualified to administer remedies to such diseases as belong to the head?

Last.

I believe I may.

Hel.

Name some to the College.

Last.

The tooth-ache.

Hel.

What do you hold the best method to treat it?

Last.

I pulls 'em up by the roots.

Hel.

Well replied, brothers! that, without doubt, is a radical cure.

All.

Without doubt.

Hel.

Thus far as to the head: Proceed we next to the middle! When, Dr. Last, you are called in to a patient with a pain in his bowels, what then is your method of practice?

Last.

I claps a trencher hot to the part.

Hel.

Embrocation; very well! But if this application should fail, what is the next step that you take?

Last.

I gi's a vomit and a purge.

Hel.

Well replied! for it is plain there is a disagreeable guest in the house; he has opened both doors; if he will go out at neither, it is none of his fault.

All.

Oh, no; by no means.

Hel.

We have now dispatched the middle, and head: Come we finally to the other extremity, the feet! Are you equally skilful in the disorders incidental to them?

Last.

I believe I may.

Hel.

Name some.

Last.

I have a great vogue all our way for curing of corns.

Hel.

What are the means that you use?

Last.

I cuts them out.

Hel.

Well replied! extirpation: No better method of curing can be. Well, brethren, I think we may now, after this strict and impartial enquiry, safely certify, that Dr. Last, from top to toe, is an able physician.

All.

Very able, very able, indeed.

Hel.

And every way qualified to proceed in his practice.

All.

Every way qualified.

Hel.

You may descend, Dr. Last. Last takes his seat among them. Secretary, first read, and then give the doctor his licence.

Sec.

Reads"To all whom these presents may come greeting. Know, ye, that, after a most strict and severe inquisition, not only into the great skill and erudition, but the morals of Dr. Emanuel Last, We are authorized to grant unto the said doctor full power, permission, and licence; to pill, bolus, lotion, potion, draught, dose, drench, purge, bleed, blister, clister, cup, scarify, syringe, salivate, couch, flux, sweat, diet, dilute, tap, plaister, and poultice, all persons, in all diseases, of all ages, conditions, and sexes. And we do strictly command and enjoin all surgeons, apothecaries, with their apprentices, all midwives, male, female, and nurses, at all times, to be aiding and assisting to the said Dr. Emanuel Last. And we do further charge all mayors, justices, aldermen, sheriffs, bailiffs, headboroughs, constables, and coroners, not to molest or intermeddle with the said doctor, if any party whom he shall so pill, bolus, lotion, potion, draught, dose, drench, purge, bleed, blister, clister, cup, scarify, syringe, salivate, couch, flux, sweat, diet, dilute, tap, plaister, and poultice, should happen to die, but to deem that the said party died a natural death, any thing appearing to the contrary notwithstanding. Given under our hands, &c. Hercules Hellebore, Cornelius Calomel, Christopher Camphire.

Last.

Then, if a patient die, they must not say that I kill'd him?

Hel.

They say? Why, how should they know, when it is not one time in twenty that we know it ourselves?—Proceed we now to the lecture! They all rise and come forward to the table. Brethren, and students, I am going to open to you some notable discoveries that I have made, respecting the source, or primary cause, of all distempers incidental to the human machine: And these, brethren, I attribute to certain animalculae, or piscatory entities, that insinuate themselves thro' the pores into the blood, and in that fluid sport, toss, and tumble about, like mackrel or cod-fish in the great deep: And to convince you that this is not a mere gratis dictum, an hypothesis only, I will give you demonstrative proof. Bring hither the microscope!

Enter a Servant with microscope.

Doctor Last, regard this receiver. Take a peep.

Last.

Where?

Hel.

There. Those two yellow drops there were drawn from a subject afflicted with the jaundice.—Well, what d'ye see?

Last.

Some little creatures like yellow flies, that are hopping and skipping about.

Hel.

Right. Those yellow flies give the tinge to the skin, and undoubtedly cause the disease: And, now, for the cure! I administer to every patient the two-and-fiftieth part of a scruple of the ovaria or eggs of the spider; these are thrown by the digestive powers into the secretory, there separated from the alimentory, and then precipitated into the circulatory; where finding a proper nidus, or nest, they quit their torpid state, and vivify, and, upon vivification, discerning the flies, their natural food, they immediately fall foul of them, extirpate the race out of the blood, and restore the patient to health.

Last.

And what becomes of the spiders?

Hel.

Oh, they die, you know, for want of nutrition. Then I send the patient down to Brighthelmstone; and a couple of dips in the salt-water, washes the cobwebs entirely out of the blood. Now, gentlemen, with respect to the—

Enter Servant.

Serv.

Sir, Mr. Forceps, from the Hospital.

Hel.

The Hospital! is this a time to—

Enter Forceps.

Well, Forceps, what's your will?

For.

To know, Sir, what you would have done with the Hospital patients to-day?

Hel.

To-day! why, what was done yesterday?

For.

Sir, we bled the West ward, and jalloped the North.

Hel.

Did ye? why then, bleed the North ward, and jallop the West to-day. Exit For. Now, I say, brethren——

Enter Servant.

Serv.

The Licentiates are drawn up at the gate.

Hel.

Who leads 'em?

Serv.

They are led on by Sligo: They demand instant entrance, and threaten to storm.

Hel.

Doctors Calomel and Camphire, our two aid-de-camps, survey their present posture, and report it to us.

Without.

Huzza!

Hel.

Bid old Jollup be ready to unmask the engine at the word of command.

Enter Camphire.

Hel.

Now, Dr. Camphire?

Camp.

The sledge-hammers are come, and they prepare to batter in breach.

Hel.

Let the engine be play'd off at the very first blow!Exit Camp.

Without.

Huzza!

Enter Calomel.

Hel.

Now, doctor?

Cal.

The first fire has demolished Dr. Fingerfee's foretop.

Hel.

That's well!Exit Cal.

Enter Camphire.

Now, doctor?

Camp.

The second fire has dropped the stiff buckles of Dr. Osasafras.

Hel.

Better and better!Exit Camp.

Enter Calomel.

Now, doctor?

Cal.

Both the knots of Dr. Anodyne's tye are dissolved.

Hel.

Best of all!Exit Cal.

Enter Camphire.

Now, doctor?

Camp.

As Dr. Sligo, with open mouth, drove furiously on, he received a full stream in his teeth, and is retired from the field, dropping wet.

Hel.

Then the day's our own!Exit Camp.

Enter Calomel.

Now, doctor?

Cal.

All is lost! Dr. Sligo, recruited by a bumper of Drogheda, is returned with fresh vigour.

Hel.

Let our whole force be pointed at him!

Exit Cal. Enter Camphire.

Now, doctor?

Camp.

The siege slackens; Dr. Broadbrim, with serjeant Demur, are arrived in the camp.

Exit.

Hel.

What can that mean?

Enter Calomel.

Now, doctor?

Cal.

Serjeant Demur has thrown this manifesto over the gate. Exit.

Hel.

looking at the parchment. Ha! ‘Middlesex to wit. John Doe and Richard Roe.’ It is a challenge to meet 'em at Westminster-Hall; then we have breathing-time till the term.

Enter Last.

Now, doctor?

Last.

I have forgot my shoes.

Takes 'em up, and exit.

Hel.

Oh!

Enter Camphire.

Camp.

The Licentiates file off towards Fleet-Street.

Hel.

Follow all, and harrass the rear! leave not a dry thread among them. Huzza!Exeunt.

Re-enter Devil, Invoice, and Harriet.

Devil.

Well, my young friends, you will now be naturally led to Westm— Oh!

Inv.

Bless me, Sir, what's the matter? You change colour, and falter.

Devil.

The magician at Madrid has discovered my flight; and recalls me by an irresistible spell: I must leave you, my friends!

Inv.

Forbid it, Fortune! it is now, Sir, that we most want your aid.

Devil.

He must, he will be obeyed. Hereafter, perhaps, I may rejoin you again.

Inv.

But, Sir, what can we do? how live? what plan can we fix on for our future support?

Devil.

You are in a country where your talents, with a little application, will procure you a provision.

Inv.

But which way to direct them?

Devil.

There are profitable professions, that require but little ability.

Inv.

Name us one.

Devil.

What think you of the trade with whose badge I am at present invested?

Inv.

Can you suppose, Sir, after what I have seen—

Devil.

Oh, Sir, I don't design to engage you in any personal service; I would only recommend it to you to be the vender of some of those infallible remedies, with which our newspapers are constantly crouded?

Inv.

You know, Sir, I am possessed of no secret.

Devil.

Nor they either: A few simple waters, dignified with titles that catch, no matter how wild and absurd, will effectually answer your purpose: As, let me see now! Tincture of Tinder, Essence of Eggshell, or Balsam of Broomstick.

Inv.

You must excuse me, Sir; I can never submit.

Devil.

I think you are rather too squeamish. What say you, then, to a little spiritual quackery?

Inv.

Spiritual?

Devil.

Oh, Sir, there are in this town mountebanks for the mind, as well as the body. How should you like mounting a cart on a common, and becoming a Methodist Preacher?

Inv.

Can that scheme turn to account?

Devil.

Nothing better: Believe me, the absolute direction of the persons and purses of a large congregation, however low their conditions and callings, is by no means a contemptible object. I, for my own part, can say, what the Conqueror of Persia said to the Cynic; ‘If I was not Alexander, I would be Diogenes:’ So, if I was not the Devil, I would chuse to be a Methodist Preacher.

Inv.

But then the restraint, the forms, I shall be obliged to observe—

Devil.

None at all: There is, in the whole catalogue, but one sin you need be at all shy of committing.

Inv.

What's that?

Devil.

Simony.

Inv.

Simony! I don't comprehend you.

Devil.

Simony, Sir, is a new kind of canon, devised by these upstart fanatics, that makes it sinful not to abuse the confidence, and piously plunder the little property, of an indigent man and his family.

Inv.

A most noble piece of casuistical cookery, and exceeds even the sons of Ignatius! But this honour I must beg to decline.

Devil.

What think you then of trying the stage? You are a couple of good theatrical figures; but how are your talents? can you sing?

Inv.

I can't boast of much skill, Sir; but Miss Harriet got great reputation in Spain.

Har.

Oh, Mr. Invoice!—My father, Sir, as we seldom went out, established a domestic kind of drama, and made us perform some little musical pieces, that were occasionally sent us from England.

Devil.

Come, Sir, will you give us a taste of your—just a short—te ti te tor.

Sings a short preludio.

Inv.

I must beg to be excused, Sir; I have not a musical note in my voice, that can please you.

Devil.

No? Why then, I believe we must trouble the lady: Come, Miss, I'll charm a band to accompany you. Waves his stick.

Harriet sings.

Devil.

Exceedingly well! You have nothing to do now, but to offer yourselves to one of the houses.

Inv.

And which, Sir, would you recommend?

Devil.

Take your choice; for I can serve you in neither.

Inv.

No? I thought, Sir, you told me just now, that the several arts of the drama were under your direction.

Devil.

So they were formerly; but now they are directed by the Genius of Insipidity: He has entered into partnership with the managers of both houses, and they have set up a kind of circulating library, for the vending of dialogue novels. I dare not go near the new house, for the Daemon of Power, who gave me this lameness, has possessed the pates, and sown discord among the mock monarchs there; and what one receives, the other rejects. And as to the other house, the manager has great merit himself, with skill to discern, and candor to allow it in others; but I can be of no use in making your bargain, for in that he would be too many for the cunningest Devil amongst us.

Inv.

I have heard of a new playhouse in the Haymarket.

Devil.

What, Foote's? Oh, that's an eccentric, narrow establishment; a mere summer-fly! He! But, however, it may do for a coup d'essai, and prove no bad foundation for a future engagement.

Inv.

Then we will try him, if you please.

Devil.

By all means: And you may do it this instant; he opens to-night, and will be glad of your assistance. I'll drop you down at the door; and must then take my leave for some time. Allons! but don't tremble; you have nothing to fear: The public will treat you with kindness; at least, if they shew but half the indulgence to you, that they have upon all occasions shewn to that Manager.

Information about this book

Title statement

The devil upon two sticks: a comedy, in three acts. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal in the Haymarket. Written by the late Samuel Foote, Esq. and now published by Mr. Colman.

Foote, Samuel, 1720-1777.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
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ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3805

ID [isbn10]

1106008049

ID [isbn13]

9781106008046

ID [TCP]

K029305.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3311313443

ID [ECLL]

0291600200

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— The devil upon two sticks: a comedy, in three acts. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal in the Haymarket. Written by the late Samuel Foote, Esq. and now published by Mr. Colman., Foote, Samuel, 1720-1777.. vi,[2],69,[3]p. ; 8⁰. London :: printed by T. Sherlock, for T. Cadell,. 1778.. [With a half-title and a final advertisement leaf.] [Also issued as part of: 'The dramatic works of Samuel Foote, Esq;', London, [1778?], [1779?], [1780?], [1785?], and 1788.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT18530.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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