University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Enter Malt-Tax, Gin, Usquebaugh, Cyder-Tax, Mead, Beer, Ale, Metheglin, Perry, Mum, Soap, Candles, Starch, Leather, Coffee, Tea, Chocolate, Paper, Pastboard, Callicoes, Gilt and Silver Wire, Vellum, Parchment, Silver Plate, Window-Tax, Coach-Tax, Land-Tax, Hop-Tax, Glass-Tax, Stain'd and Died Stuffs, Silk, Linnen, &c. &c. &c.
Preceded by Mr. Salt-Tax beating a March upon his Box.
Mr. BAYES.
[Meeting them]

Mrs Mead, I am very glad to see
you—Mrs. Hop, this is very obliging—
Mr. Candle-Tax, you are a
man of your word—Gentlemen—
I thank you: I suppose you are all here!—

But—What— [pausing, and holding up his hands]

A good—round—hopeful tribe, upon my
honour!— [as they are still crouding in]
—Nay—
nay—if there are still more of you—we shall
certainly want room—I own I should have consider'd
things a little better!—But who could
have thought, I should have been so much out
in my reckoning—when 'tis matter of fact, that
we have frequently had two armies introduced
upon this very spot—and yet now I can't say
but what I begin to question, whether or no,
they had so many men in them.—What!—
Still crouding in—Nay then—However let us see
as many of you as we can, gentlemen,—Too
many!—too many, truly!—But I am obliged to
you for your giving me this meeting. I thought
it necessary you should make your appearance
here in propriis personis— [advancing towards Mr. Salt-Tax]

—If I don't mistake, I think your
name is Salt-Tax—

SALT-TAX.

You are perfectly right, sir,—I came according
to your order, and I hope not out of season.

Mr. BAYES.

No—no—quite apropòs—I introduce you
first out of compliment to the audience, to give
some relish to the action: for in this evening's
entertainment I would have nothing insipid!—
Things of this nature, Mr. Salt-Tax, ought to
shew something of taste—

SALT-TAX.

Ah! Mr. Bayes, you know I love a joke, as
well as any man living: But [shaking his head]

these are but poor times for jesting—I am confident,
you can be no stranger to what the most
industrious set of men in the kingdom suffer, thro'
the burdens laid upon my shoulders—I must say—
I look'd upon myself to have a natural exemption
from any fresh impositions. But—tho' my claim
is so obvious—you see 'tis over-rul'd,—and I
can't conceive how to account for't—unless it is,
because I am so remarkably fix'd in the Country
Interest; or rather, because I am look'd upon by
the Courtiers—to be tooth and nail an enemy
from the very soul of me to all Corruption.

Mr. BAYES.

Come—come—my good friend, this may turn
out a better day than you think for—But as
I have a great deal of business upon my hands,
I must beg your pardon for the present—I should
be extremely glad to have a little more conversation
with you at another time—But your neighbour
there will have reason to take it amiss, unless
I just ask him how he does. Well—Mr. Malt-Tax
—This is extremely obliging, to let me see
you this morning.—I don't know how it is—
but I find every body here is complaining of the
badness of the times!

MALT-TAX.

And not without reason!—You know,
Maister Bayes—I am a plain spoken man,—and
as I have the proverb o'my side, in good liquor
there is truth, you may believe me when I tell
you, these times are brewing no good for us—
Nay for that matter, 'tis not myself alone (for I
don't speak out of self-interest) but there are all
my relations great sufferers!—There's my Cousin
Hop there! poor soul, that can't stand a high-lone
without the help of a stick, and consequently
ought to be look'd upon as an object of charity,
(O terrible times!) must now pay for herself by
the pound!—Why, Mr. Bayes—this is a most
bitter tax—and tho' one of our family has still
some spirits left, my relation Mrs. Gin yonder,
yet—she has a heavy reckoning to pay—
But—Mum!—is all I say—Silence can bring a
man into no scrapes!—

Mr. BAYES.

What is that your Cousin Gin there?—Your
servant, madam; I ask pardon for taking these
freedoms with you—But I hope your cask is out
at present, 'twill be highly necessary for me to
take some care of my Dram-atis Personæ.

Mrs. GIN.

I assure you, Mr. Bayes, I have not a drop
left—and I begin to be so sensible of the mischief

I have done in the world, that I believe I shall
soon leave off trade; my conscience will never
let me carry on business much longer.

Mr. BAYES.

So much the better—'tis a sad thing to be accessary
to the destruction of such numbers of People
—But— [advancing to Mr. Cyder-Tax]
I must
beg leave to pay my compliments to my good
friend here.—Well—Mr. Cyder-Tax, what
news have we in our good county of Hereford?

CYDER-TAX.

Why there is a core Mr. Bayes—there is a core
that sticks in every honest man's stomach.—
These home-impositions break our backs—They
impair us—They dry up the juices of our constitution.
—Lay what you will upon our foreign
commodities; but let our own manufactures escape
a reckoning—I could be as patient as any man to
take (as the saying is) the rough with the smooth—
But to let such good subjects as we are, meet with
nothing but rough usage, 'tis treating us ill, Mr.
Bayes, 'tis graffing a crab upon a redstreak—

Mr. BAYES.

Come, come, never mind what's past—I tell
you the times are growing better.—But— [advancing to Mr. Window-Tax]

is not that Mr.
Window-Tax? I must just speak to him—What
—Jack—is that patch over your eye a policy
of thine to save a shilling—

WINDOW-TAX.

Why, Maister Bayes, it is but following the
practice of the country, if I have stopp'd up
half my lights—This is quite wrong. To make
us pay for God's blessings, one should think,
cou'd have never enter'd into any man's head,
that must not have been a great worker in darkness;
and if it is one of the works of darkness,
there is no harm, I hope, in calling it a devilish
Tax.—You'll own this is bad enough!—But every
demand, it seems, that is now made, like a bell,
is to take Toll back-stroke and fore-stroke—
Why, Mr. Bayes, the very Glass pays as well as
the Light!—I have often heard of persons
paying for their peeping—and I think this is making
out the proverb with a vengeance!

Mr. BAYES.

Well—Gentlemen I'm glad to find there is still
left some spirit among you. I must tell you, 'tis a
day of great business with me, and I can't conveniently
stay to pay my compliments to every
one of you in particular—but I shall see you again
in the evening—and then I hope I shall be able to
tell you some good news, that will well reward
you for your waiting—

[Exit Mr. Bayes, with the Taxes.