I swim with the stream, and make my place as easy as I can.

Francis. Your looks, Mr. Jonathan, convince me that you live at your ease.

Jon. I do so; and therefore, (in spite of the old proverb," Like master, like man") you never saw two people more different than I and Sir Benjamin Dove. He, Lord help him! is a little, peaking, puling thing; I am a jolly, portable man, as you see. It so happened, that we both became widowers at the same time; I knew when I was well, and have continued single ever since. He fell into the clutches of-Hark, sure I hear my lady

Francis. No, it was nothing. When did the poor gentleman light upon this termagant?

Jon. Lackaday, 'twas here at the borough of Knavestown, when master had the great contest with 'Squire Belfield, about three years ago: her first husband, Mr. Searcher, was a king's messenger, as they call it, and came down express from a great man about court during the poll; he caught a surfeit, as ill-luck would have it, at the election-dinner: and, before he died, his wife, that's now my lady, came down to see him; then it was master fell in love with her: egad, 'twas the unluckiest job of all his life.

Sir Benjamin. [Without.] Jonathan! why Jonathan!

Francis. Hark, you are called!

Jon. Ay, ay, 'tis only my master; my lady tells the servants not to mind what Sir Benjamin says, and I love to do as I am bid.

Francis. Well, honest Jonathan, if you won't move, I must; by this time I hope my young master is happy with your young mistress. [Exit FRANCIS.

Enter SIR BENJAMIN DOVE.

Sir Benj. Why, Jonathan, I say. Oh, are you here ? Why couldn't you come, when I called you?

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