_Enter_ Knapsack.

Mr. _Knapsack_, your most humble Servant, an ingenious young Gentleman
here, just arriv'd from the Fenns in _Lincolnshire,_ desires to be known
to you; he's at present but a rough Diamond wholly ignorant of the Town,
but your Conversation will make him Brillant.

_Knap_. You know my Profession, Mr. _Shrimp_, and think you can't trespass
on my modesty; but your praises are enough to put our whole Regiment out
o'countenance, had we not quarter'd in _Ireland_.--The young Gentleman by
his deportment seems to be the Darling of a Family, and Heir to a good
Estate.

_Tot_. I shall have Five Hundred a Year, Sir, when my Grand-mother gives
up the Ghost; but at present she allows me but Eighteen Pence a Week for
reading the Book of Martyrs to her, copying Receipts, and supporting her
about the House.

_Shr_. Eighteen Pence a Week! Why the Kitchin Wench gets more for her
Coney Skins; but what allowance are you to have now, Master, you should
have handsome Lodgings in _Pall-Mall_ Tutors to embellish you, dress out
for _Whites_, keep a Chair by the Week, and an impudent Footman to knock
down People before you.

_Tot_. Ay, but my Grand-mother charg'd me on her Blessing never to go to
that end o'the Town; she says, they are abominable Spendthrifts there; bid
me remember the Prodigal Son, and has given me only a broad _Jacobus_ to
pay for Post Letters, and a Hundred Pound Bill upon Sir _Francis_ to put
me Clerk to an Attorney.