_Scrub._ And to be sure we go, if we talk of eating; for the justices won't give their own servants a bad example. Now this is my misfortune--I dare not speak in the house, while that jade, Gipsey, dings about like a fury----once I had the better end of the staff. _Arch._ And how comes the change now? _Scrub._ Why, the mother of all this mischief is a priest. _Arch._ A priest! _Scrub._ Ay, a damn'd son of a whore of Babylon, that came over hither to say grace to the French officers, and eat up our provisions--There's not a day goes over his head without a dinner or supper in this house. _Arch._ How came he so familiar in the family? _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 affection of your Gipsey. _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 too, 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 of them, 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 hounds, 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 Mrs. Dorinda----don't mind them, sit still, man---- _Enter_ MRS. SULLEN _and_ DORINDA. _Mrs. Sul._ I have heard my brother talk of Lord Aimwell, but they say that his brother is the finer gentleman. _Dor._ That's impossible, sister. _Mrs. Sul._ He's vastly rich, and 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. [_They walk towards the opposite Side of the Stage_; MRS. SULLEN _drops her Fan_, ARCHER _runs, takes it up, and gives it to her_. _Arch._ 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--madam--your ladyship's fan. _Mrs. Sul._ O, sir, I thank you--What a handsome bow the fellow made!