JERRY BLACKACRE, a true raw Squire, under age, and his mother's government, bred to the law. Lawyers, Knights of the Post, Bailiffs and Aldermen, a Bookseller's Apprentice, a Foot-boy, Sailors, Waiters, and Attendants. OLIVIA, MANLY'S Mistress. FIDELIA, in love with MANLY, and follows him to sea in man's clothes. ELIZA, Cousin of OLIVIA. LETTICE, OLIVIA'S Woman. Widow BLACKACRE, a petulant, litigious Widow, always in law, and Mother of Squire JERRY. SCENE--LONDON. _THE PLAIN DEALER._ ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I.--MANLY'S _Lodging._ _Enter_ MANLY, _surlily_, Lord PLAUSIBLE, _following him; and two_ Sailors _behind._ _Man._ Tell not me, my good Lord Plausible, of your decorums, supercilious forms, and slavish ceremonies! your little tricks, which you, the spaniels of the world, do daily over and over, for and to one another; not out of love or duty, but your servile fear. _L. Plau._ Nay, i' faith, i' faith, you are too passionate; and I must humbly beg your pardon and leave to tell you, they are the arts and rules the prudent of the world walk by. _Man._ Let 'em. But I'll have no leading-strings; I can walk alone: I hate a harness, and will not tug on in a faction, kissing my leader behind, that another slave may do the like to me. _L. Plau._ What, will you be singular then, like nobody? follow, love, and esteem nobody? _Man._ Rather than be general, like you, follow everybody; court and kiss everybody; though perhaps at the same time you hate everybody. _L. Plau._ Why, seriously, with your pardon, my dear friend-- _Man._ With your pardon, my no friend, I will not, as you do, whisper my hatred or my scorn; call a man fool or knave by signs or mouths over his shoulder, whilst you have him in your arms.--For such as you, like common whores and pickpockets, are only dangerous to those you embrace. _L. Plau._ Such as I! Heavens defend me!--upon my honour-- _Man._ Upon your title, my lord, if you'd have me believe you. _L. Plau._ Well, then, as I am a person of honour, I never attempted to abuse or lessen any person in my life. _Man._ What, you were afraid? _L. Plau._ No; but seriously, I hate to do a rude thing: no, faith, I speak well of all mankind. _Man._ I thought so: but know, that speaking well of all mankind is the worst kind of detraction; for it takes away the reputation of the few good men in the world, by making all alike. Now, I speak ill of most men, because they deserve it; I that can do a rude thing, rather than an unjust thing.