Dor. O, I am disgraced for ever! Mr Barn. Now, son, this will teach you how to live. Dor. Your son? I deny the kindred; I'm the son of a whore, and I'll burn your house about your ears. Mr Barn. Ha, ha [Exit. Grif. The young gentleman is in a passion. Mr Barn. They're all gone for all that, and the Sword-Royal's the best general in Christendom. Enter ERASTUS's Servant talking with LISETTA. Lis. What, that tall gentleman I saw in the garden with ye? Ser. The same; he's my master's uncle, and ranger of the king's forests-He intends to leave my master all he has. Mr Barn. Don't I know this scoundrel? What, is his master here? What do you do here, rascal? Ser. I was asking which must be chamber. my master's Mrs Barn. You are nearer being so than you imagine; for there are some persons within, who have it in their power to punish you for your ridiculous folly. Enter ERASTUS, leading in MARIAMNE, Mr Barn. How, sir, what means this? who sent you here? Era. It was the luckiest star in your firmament, that sent me here. Mr Barn. Then I doubt, at my birth, the planets were but in a scurvy disposition. Era. Killing one of the king's stags, that run hither for refuge, is enough to overturn a fortune much better established than yours-However, sir, if you will consent to give me your daughter, for her sake I will bear you harmless. Mr Barn. No, sir; no man shall have my daughter, that won't take my house, too. Era. Sir, I will take your house; pay you the full value of it, and you shall remain as much master of it as ever. Mr Barn. No, sir; that won't do neither; you must be master yourself, and from this minute begin to do the honours of it in your own person. Era. Sir, I readily consent. Mr Barn. Upon that condition, and in order to get rid of my house, here take my daughterAnd, now, sir, if you think you've a hard bargain, I don't care if I toss you in my wife, to make you amends. SCENE I.-Rovewell's lodgings. ROBIN Solus. ACT I Rob. WELL, though pimping is the most honourable and profitable of all professions, it is certainly the most dangerous and fatiguing; but of all fatigues, there's none like following a virtuous mistress There's not one letter I carry, but I run the risk of kicking, caneing, or pumping, nay, often hanging-Let me see; I have committed three burglaries to get one letter to herNow, if my master should not get the gipsey at last, I have ventured my sweet person to a fair purpose-But, Basta! here comes my master and his friend Mr Hearty-I must hasten and get our disguises. And if dame Fortune fails us now to win her, Enter ROVEWELL and HEARTY. Hear. Why so melancholy, captain? Come, come, a man of your gaiety and courage should never take a disappointment so much to heart. Rov. 'Sdeath! to be prevented, when I had brought my design so near perfection! Hear. Were you less open and daring in your attempts, you might hope to succeed-The old gentleman, you know, is cautious to a degree; his daughter under a strict confinement: would you use more of the fox than the lion, Fortune, perhaps, might throw an opportunity in your wayBut you must have patience. Rov. Who can have patience when danger is so near? Read this letter, and then tell me what room there is for patience. [HEARTY reads] To-morrow will prevent all ' our vain struggles to get to each other—I am 'then to be married to my eternal aversion! you 'know the fop; 'tis Cuckoo, who, having a large estate, is forced upon me-but my heart can be none but Rovewell's. Immediately after the receipt of this, meet Betty at the old place; there is yet one invention left; if you pursue is D stomach, and no less a person than 'squire Cuckoo. closely, you may perhaps release her, who would be your ARETHUSA. Rov. Yes, Arethusa, I will release thee, or die Are. You will not, surely, be so cruel as to in the attempt! Dear friend, excuse my rude-marry me to a man I cannot love? ness; you know the reason. Hear. Well, go thy way, and get her; for thou deserv'st her, o' my conscience-How have I been deceived in this boy! I find him the very reverse of what his step-mother represented him; and am now sensible it was only her ill-usage that forced my child away-His not having seen me since he was five years old, renders me a perfect stranger to him-Under that pretence I have got into his acquaintance, and find him all I wishIf this plot of his fails, I believe my money must buy him the girl at last. [Exit. SCENE II-A chamber in ARGUS's house. ARETHUSA sola. AIR. Are. See! the radiant queen of night Sheds on all her kindly beams; Tasteless all things yet appear, In the absence of my dear. Enter ARGUS. Arg. Pray, daughter, what lingo is that same you chant and sputter out at this rate? Are. English, sir. Arg. Why, what sort of a man would you have, Mrs Minx? Arg. Why, is not Mr Cuckoo all this? Adod, he's a brisk young fellow, and a little feather-bed doctrine will soon put the captain out of your head; and, to put you out of his power, you shall be given over to the squire to-morrow. Are. Surely, sir, you will at least defer it one day. Arg. No, nor one hour-To-morrow morning, at eight of the clock precisely-In the mean time, take notice, the squire's sister is hourly expected; so, pray do you be civil and sociable with her, and let me have none of your pouts and glouts, as you tender my displeasure. [Exit ARGUS. Are. To-morrow is short warning: but we may be too cunning for you yet, old gentleman. Enter BETTY. O Betty! welcome a thousand times! what news? have you seen the captain? Bet. Yes, madam; and if you were to see him in his new rigging, you'd split your sides with laughing-Such a hoyden, such a piece of coun Arg. English, quotha! adod I took it to be try stuff, you never set your eyes on!-But the nonsense. Are. 'Tis a hymn to the moon. Arg. A hymn to the moon! I'll have none of your hymns in my house-Give me the book, housewife. Are. I hope, sir, there is no crime in reading a harmless poem? Arg. Give me the book, I say? poems, with a pox! what are they good for, but to blow up the fire of love, and make young wenches wanton? But I have taken care of you, mistress! for tomorrow you shall have a husband to stay your petticoats are soon thrown off; and if good luck attends us, you may easily conjure Miss Malkin, the squire's sister, into your own dear captain. Are. But when will they come? Bet. Instantly, madam; he only stays to settle matters for our escape. He's in deep consultation with his privy-counsellor Robin, who is to attend him in the quality of a country put They'll both be here in a moment; so let's in, and pack up the jewels, that we may be ready at once to leap into the saddle of liberty, and ride full speed to your desires. Are. Dear Betty, let's make haste; I think] every moment an age till I'm free from this bondage. AIR. When parents obstinate and cruel prove, [A knocking without. ARGUS from above. Arg. You're woundy hasty, methinks, to knock at that rate-This is certainly some courtier come to borrow money; I know it by the saucy rapping of the footman-Who's at the door? Rob. Tummos! [Without doors. Arg. Tummos! Who's Tummos? Who would you speak with, friend? Rob. With young master's rather-in-law, that mun be, master Hardguts. Arg. And what's your business with master Hardguts? Rob. Why, young mistress is come out of the country to see brother's wife, that mun be, that's all. Arg. Odso, the squire's sister! I'm sorry I made her wait so long. [Exit hastily. SCENE III.-A chamber. ARGUS introducing ROVEWELL in woman's clothes, followed by ROBIN as a clown. Arg. Save you, fair lady! you're welcome to town. [ROVEWELL curtseys.] A very modest maiden, truly! How long have you been in town? Rob. Why, an hour and a bit or so- we just put up horses at King's Arms yonder, and staid a crum to zee poor things feed, for your London ostlers give little enough to poor beasts; an' you stond not by 'em yourzell, and see 'em fed, as soon as your back's turned, adod, they'll cheat you afore your face. Arg. Why, how now, Clodpate? are you to speak before your mistress, and with your hat on, too? Is that your country-breeding? Rob. Why, an' 'tis on, 'tis on, an' 'tis off, 'tis off-what cares Tummos for your false-hearted London compliments? An' you'd have an answer from young mistress, you mun look to Tummos; for she's so main bashful, she never speaks one word but her prayers, and thos'n so softly that nobody can hear her. Arg. I like her the better for that; silence is a heavenly virtue in a woman, but very rare to be found in this wicked place. Have you seen your brother, pretty lady, since you came to town? [ROVEWELL curtseys.] O, miraculous modesty! would all women were thus! Can't you speak, madam? [ROVEWELL curtseys again.] Rob. An' you get a word from her, 'tis more nor she has spoken to us these fourscore and seven long miles; but young mistress will prate fast enough, an' you set her among your women volk. Arg. Say'st thou so, honest fellow? I'll send her to those that have tongue enough, I'll warrant you. Here, Betty! Enter BETTY. Take this young lady to my daughter; 'tis squire dam. Arg. Oh, she's a fine creature, indeed! But, where's the squire, honest friend? Rob. Why, one cannot find a man out in this same Londonshire, there are so many taverns and chockling housen; you may as well syek a needle in a hay fardel, as they say'n i' the country. I was at squire's lodging yonder, and there was nobody but a prate-apace whoreson of a foot-boy, and he told me maister was at a chockling house, and all the while the vixon did nothing but taunt and laugh at me: I'cod, I could have found in my heart to have gi'n him a good whirrit in the chops. So, I went to one chockling house, and t'other chockling-house, till I was quite weary; and I could see nothing but a many people supping hot suppings, and reading your gazing papers: we had much ado to find out your worship's house; the vixon boys set us o' thick side, and that side, till we were almost quite lost; an' it were not for an honest fellow that knowed your worship, and set us in the right way. Arg. Tis pity they should use strangers so; but as to your young mistress, does she never speak? Rob. Adod, sir, never to a mon; why, she wo'not speak to her own father, she's so main bashful. Arg. That's strange, indeed! But how does my friend, sir Roger? he's well, I hope? Rob. Hearty still, sir-He has drunk down six fox-hunters sin last Lammas! He holds his old course still; twenty pipes a-day, a cup of mum in the morning, a tankard of ale at noon, and three bottles of stingo at night. The same mon now he was thirty years ago; and young squire Yedward is just come from varsity; lawd, he's mainly growd sin you saw him! he's a fine proper tall gentleman now; why he's near upon as tall as you or I, mun, Arg. Good now, good now! But woulds't drink, honest friend. Rob. I don't care an' I do, a bit or so; for, to say truth, I'm mortal dry. Arg. Here, John! Enter Servant. Take this honest fellow down, and make him welcome. When your mistress is ready to go, we'll call you. Rob. Ah! pray, take care and make much of me, for I am a bitter honest fellow, an' you did but know me. [Exit ROBIN, with servant. Arg. These country fellows are very blunt, but very honest. I would fain hear his mistress talk. He said she would find her tongue when she was amongst those of her own sex. I'll go listen for once, and hear what the young tits have to say to one another. [Exit. Enter ROVEWELL, ARETHUSA, and BETTY. Rove. Dear Arethusa, delay not the time thus; your father will certainly come in and surprise us, Bet. Let us make hay while the sun shines, madam: I long to be out of this prison. Are. So do I; but not on the captain's conditions, to be his prisoner for life. Rove. I shall run mad if you trifle thus: name your conditions; 1 sign my consent before-hand. [Kisses her. Are. Indeed, captain, I am afraid to trust Than linger in despair, Or see you in the arms of another. Enter ARGUS, behind. So, so! this is as it should be; they are as gracious as can be already- -How the young tit smuggles her! Adod, she kisses with a hearty good-will. Are. I must confess, captain, I am half inclined to believe you. Arg. Captain! how is this! bless my eyesight! I know the villain now; but I'll be even with him. Bet. Dear madam, don't trifle so; the parson is at the very next door, you'll be tacked together in an instant; and then I'll trust you to come back to your cage again, if you can do it with a safe conscience. Arg. Here's a treacherous jade! but I'll do your business for you, Mrs Jezebel. Bet. Consider, madam, what a life you lead here; what a jealous, ill-natured, watchful, covetous, barbarous, old cuff of a father you have to deal with-What a glorious opportunity this is, and what a sad, sad, very sad thing it is, to die a maid! AIR. Would you live a stale virgin for ever? I thought that a soldier, Was wiser and bolder! A warrior should plunder and rifle ; Arg. If that jade dies a maid, I'll die a martyr. Bet. In short, madam, if you stay much longer, you may repent it every vein in your heart -The old hunks will undoubtedly pop in upon us and discover all, and then we're undone for cver. Arg. You may go to the devil for ever, Mrs Impudence! Are. Well, captain, if you should deceive me! Rov. If I do, may heaven Are. Nay, no swearing, captain, for fear you should prove like the rest of your sex. Rov. How can you doubt me, Arethusa, when you know how much I love you? Arg. A wheedling dog! But I'll spoil his sport anon. Bet. Come, come away, dear madam !- -I have the jewels; but stay, I'll go first, and see if the coast be clear. [ARGUS meets her. Arg. Where are you a-going, pretty maiden? Bet. Only do-do-do-down stairs, sir, |