IN TO W N.

A

SE QUE L

то

The Virgin Unmafqued.

A

FARCE;

WITH SONG S
As it is Acted at the

THEATRE-ROYAL

In DRURY-LANE,

By His MAJESTY's Servants.

LONDON:

Printed for A. MILLA R, againft St. Clement's Church in the Strand. 1742.

(Price One Shilling.)

THE

MISS LUCY IN TOWN

SCENE.-MRS. MIDNIGHT'S.

MRS. MIDNIGHT and TAWDRY.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. And he did not give you a single shilling? TAWDRY. No, upon my honour.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. Very well. They spend so much money in show and equipage, that they can no more pay their ladies than their tradesmen. If it was not for Mr. Zorobabel, and some more of his persuasion, I must shut up my doors.

TAWDRY. Besides, ma'am, virtuous women and gentlemen's wives come so cheap, that no man will go to the price of a lady of the town.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. I thought Westminster Hall would have given them a surfeit of their virtuous women: but I see nothing will do; though a jury of cuckolds were to give never such swinging damages, it will not deter men from qualifying more jurymen. In short, nothing can do us any service but an Act of Parliament to put us down.

TAWDRY. Have you put a bill on your door, ma'am, as you said you would?

MRS. MIDNIGHT. It is up, it is up. O Tawdry! that a woman who hath been bred, and always lived like a gentlewoman, and followed a polite way of business, should be reduced to let lodgings.

TAWDRY. It is a melancholy consideration truly. [Knocking.] But hark! I hear a coach stop.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. Some rake or other, who is too poor to have any reputation. This is not a time of day for good

customers to walk abroad. The citizens, good men, can't leave their shops so soon.

SERVANT [enters]. Madam, a gentleman and lady to inquire for lodgings; they seems to be just come out of the country, for the coach and horses are in a terrible dirty pickle.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. Why don't you show them in? Tawdry, who knows what fortune has sent us?

TAWDRY. If she had meant me any good, she'd have sent a gentleman without a lady.

SERVANT [returning with JOHN]. This is my mistress, friend.

JOHN. Do you take volks in to live here? Because, if you do, madam and the squoire will come and live with you. MRS. MIDNIGHT. Then your master is a squire, friend, is he?

JOHN. Ay, he's as good a squire as any within five miles o'en tho'f he was but a footman before, what is that to the purpose? Madam has enough for both o 'em.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. Well, you may desire your master and his lady to walk in. I believe I can furnish them with what they want. What think you, Tawdry, of the squire and his lady, by this specimen of them?

TAWDRY. Why, I think if I can turn the squire to as good account as you will his lady, (I mean if she be handsome,) we shall have no reason to repent our acquaintance. You will soon teach her more politeness than to be pleased with a footman, especially as he is her husband.

MRS. MIDNIGHT. Truly, I must say, I love to see ladies prefer themselves. Mercy on those who betray women to sacrifice their own interest: I would not have such a sin lie on my conscience for the world.

Enter THOMAS, WIFE, and Servants.

THOMAS. Madam, your humble servant. My fellow here tells me you have lodgings to let, pray what are they, madam? MRS. MIDNIGHT. Sir, my bill hath informed you.