fret, and dance about, trot at the rate of fifteen | prised that I ran away from a gentleman who miles an hour, if you please; but, marry whip me, I'm resolved. Enter ROSSETTA. Haw. Here is the lady, sir William. Sir Wil. Come in, madam, but turn your face from him—he would not marry you, because he had not seen you: but I'll let him know my choice shall be his, and he shall consent to marry you before he sees you, or not an acre of estate-Pray, sir, walk this way. Young Mea. Sir, I cannot help thinking your conduct a little extraordinary; but, since you urge me so closely, I must tell you my affections are engaged. Sir Wil. How, Tom, how! Young Mea. I was determined, sir, to have got the better of my inclination, and never have done a thing which I knew would be disagreeable Ros. When we see a lover languish, And his truth and honour prove, Sir Wil. Well, Tom, will you go away from me now? Haw. Perhaps, sir William, your son does not like the lady; and, if so, pray don't put a force upon his inclination. Young Mea. You need not have taken this method, sir, to let me see you are acquainted with my folly, whatever my inclinations are. . Sir Wil. Well, but, Tom, suppose I give my consent to your marrying this young woman? Young Mea. Your consent, sir? Ros. Come, sir William, we have carried the est far enough: I see your son is in a kind of embarrassment, and I don't wonder at it; but this letter, which I received from him a few days before I left my father's house, will, I apprehend, expound the riddle. He cannot be sur expressed so much dislike to me; and what has happened, since chance has brought us together in masquerade, there is no occasion for me to inform him of. Young Mea. What is all this? Pray don't make a jest of me! Sir Wil. May I never do an ill turn, Tom, if it is not truth! this is my friend's daughter. Young Mea. Sir! Ros. Even so; 'tis very true, indeed. In short, you have not been a more whimsical gentleman, than I have a gentlewoman; but you see we are designed for one another, 'tis plain. Young Mea. I know not, madam, what I either hear or see; a thousand things are crowding on my imagination; while, like one just awakened from a dream, I doubt which is reality, which delusion. Sir Wil. Well, then, Tom, come into the air a bit, and recover yourself. Young Mea. Nay, dear sir, have a little patience; do you give her to me? Sir Wil. Give her to you! ay, that I do, and my blessing into the bargain. Young Mea. Then, sir, I am the happiest man in the world! I enquire no farther; here I fix the utmost limits of my hopes and happiness. Haw. Give you joy, sir; and you, fair lady— And, under favour, I'll salute you too, if there's no fear of jealousy. Young Mea. And may I believe this? Prithee tell me, dear Rosetta! Ros. Step into the house, and I'll tell you every thing; I must intreat the good offices of sir William and Mr Hawthorn, immediately; for I am in the utmost uneasiness about my poor friend, Lucinda. Haw. Why, what's the matter? Ros. I don't know; but I have reason to fear I left her, just now, in very disagreeable circumstances: however, I hope, if there's any mischief fallen out between her father and her lover Haw. The music-master! I thought so. Sir Wil. What, is there a lover in the case? May I never do an ill turn, but I am glad, so I am! for we'll make a double wedding; and, by way of celebrating it, take a trip to London, to shew the brides some of the pleasures of the town. And, Master Hawthorn, you shall be of the party-Come, children, go before us. Haw. Thank you, sir William; I'll go into the house with you, and to church to see the young folks married; but as to London, I beg to be excused. AIR. If ever I'm catched in those regions of smoke, May I ne'er know the sweets of a slumber un- Nor the pleasure the country enjoys. Nay more, let them take me, to punish my sin, Where, gaping, the cocknies they fleece, Clap me up with their monsters, cry, masters walk in, And shew me for twopence a-piece. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-JUSTICE WOODCOCK's hall. Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK, MRS DEBORAH Mrs Deb. Why, brother, do you think I can't hear, or see, or make use of my senses? I tell you, I left that fellow locked up in her closet; and, while I have been with you, they have broke open the door, and got him out again. J. Wood. Well, you hear what they say? Mrs Deb. I kare not what they say; it's you encourage them in their impudence- -Hark'e, hussy, will you face me down that I did not lock the fellow up? Luc. Really, aunt, I don't know what you mean; when you talk intelligibly, I'll answer you. Eus. Seriously, madam, this is carrying the jest a little too far. Mrs Deb. What, then, I did not catch you together in her chamber, nor overhear your design of going off to-night, nor find the bundles packed up Eus. Ha, ha, ha! Luc. Why, aunt, you rave! Mrs Deb. Brother, as I am a Christian woman, she confessed the whole affair to me from first to last; and, in this very place, was down upon her marrow-bones for half an hour together, to beg I would conceal it from you. Hodge. O Lord! O Lord! Mrs Deb. What, sirrah, would too? Take that! Hodge. I wish you would keep your hands to yourself! you strike me, because you have been telling his worship stories. J. Wood. Why, sister, you are tipsy! Mrs Deb. I tipsy, brother! I-that never touch a drop of any thing strong from year's end to year's end; but now and then a little anniseed water, when I have got the colic. Luc. Well, aunt, you have been complaining of the stomach-ach all day; and may have taken too powerful a dose of your cordial. J. Wood. Come, come, I see well enough how it is this is a lie of her own invention, to make herself appear wise: but, you simpleton! did you not know I must find you out? Enter SIR WILLIAM MEADOWS, HAWTHORN, Young Mea. Bless me, sir! Look who is yonder! Sir Wil. Cocksbones, Jack! honest Jack, are you there? Eus. Plague on't, this rencounter is unluckySir William, your servant. Sir Wil. Your servant again; and again, heartily your servant; may I never do an ill turn, but I am glad to meet you! J. Wood. Pray, sir William, are you acquainted with this person? Sir Wil. What, with Jack Eustace! why, he's my kinsman: his mother and I were cousin-germans once removed, and Jack's a very worthy young fellow; may I never do an ill turn if I tell a word of a lie. J. Wood. Well, but, sir William, let me tell you, you know nothing of the matter. This man is a music-master; a thrummer of wire, and a scraper of cat-gut, and teaches my daughter to sing. Sir Wil. What, Jack Eustace a music-master! No, no; I know him better. Eus. 'Sdeath, why should I attempt to carry on this absurd farce any longer- -What that gentleman tells you is very true, sir: I am no music-master, indeed. J. Wood. You are not? you own it, then? Eus. Nay more, sir; I am, as this lady has represented ine-[Pointing to MRS DEB]-your daughter's lover; whom, with her own consent, I did intend to have carried off this night; but now that sir William Meadows is here, to tell you who, and what I am, I throw myself upon your generosity, from which I expect greater advantages than I could reap from any imposition on your unsuspicious nature. Mrs Deb. Well, brother, what have you to say for yourself now? You have made a precious day's work of it! Had my advice been taken! Oh, I am ashamed of you! but you are a weak brazen me you man, and it can't be helped; however, you [Boxes him. should let wiser heads direct you. Go, naughty man! I can't abide you; But here I charge you-make them happy; Mrs Deb. Come, turn out of the house, and be thankful that my brother does not hang you, for he could do it; he's a justice of peace; turn out of the house, I say! J. Wood. Who gave you authority to turn him out of the house?-He shall stay where he is. Mrs Deb. He shan't marry my niece. J. Wood. Shan't he? but I'll shew you the difference now; I say, he shall marry her, and what will you do about it? Mrs Deb. And you will give him your estate too, will you? J. Wood. Yes, I will. Mrs Deb. Why, I'm sure he's a vagabond. J. Wood. I like him the better; I would have him a vagabond. Mrs Deb. Brother, brother! Haw. Come, come, madam, all's very well; and I see my neighbour is what I always thought him, a man of sense and prudence. Sir Wil. May I never do an ill turn, but I say sq too! J. Wood. Here, young fellow, take my daughter, and bless you both together; but hark you? no money till I die; observe that. Eus. Sir, in giving me your daughter, you bestow upon me more than the whole world would be without her. Ros. Dear Lucinda, if words could convey the transports of my heart upon this occasion Luc. Words are the tools of hypocrites, the pretenders to friendship; only let us resolve to preserve our esteem for each other. Young Mea. Dear Jack, I little thought we should ever meet in such odd circumstancesbut here has been the strangest business between this lady and me Hodge. What, then, Mrs Rossetta, are you turned false-hearted after all? will you marry Thomas the gardener? and did I forsake Madge for this? Ros. Oh Lord! Hodge, I beg your pardon; I protest I forgot; but I must reconcile you and Madge, I think, and give you a wedding-dinner to make you amends. Hodge. N-ah. Haw. Adds me, sir, here are some of your neighbours come to visit you, and I suppose to make up the company of your statute-ball; yonder's music too, I see. Shall we enjoy ourselves? If so, give me your hand. J. Wood. Why, here's my hand, and we will enjoy ourselves; Heaven bless you both, children, I say! Sister Deborah, you are a fool! Mrs Deb. You are a fool, brother; and mark my words-But I'll give myself no more trouble about you. Haw. Fiddlers, strike up! VOL. III. ЗА Sir Jac. Sir, sirrah! and why not sir Jacob, you rascal? Is that all your manners? Has his Majesty dubbed me a knight for you to make me a mister? Are the candidates near upon coming? Rog. Nic Goose, the taylor from Putney, they say, will be here in a crack, sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Has Margery fetched in the linen? Sir Jac. Are the pigs and the poultry locked up in the barn? Rog. Safe, sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Then let him bring out the turkey and chine, and be sure there is plenty of mustard; and, d'ye hear, Roger? do you stand yourself at the gate, and be careful who you let in. Rog. I will, sir Jacob. [Exit ROGER. Sir Jac. So, now I believe things are pretty secure; but I can't think what makes my daughters so late ere they—— [Knocking at the gate. Who is that, Roger? Sir Jac. Let him in. What the deuce can he want? Enter LINT. Sir Jac. Well, Master Lint, your will? Lint. Why, I come, sir Jacob, partly to inquire after your health, and partly, as I may say, Sir Jac. And the plate and spoons in the to settle the business of the day. pantry? Rog. Yes, sir Jacob. Sir Jac. What business? Lint. Your worship knoweth, this being the day of election, the rabble may be riotous; in which case, maims, bruises, contusions, dislocations, fractures simple and compound, may likely ensue: now, your worship need not be told, that I am not only a pharmacopolist, or vender of drugs, but likewise chirurgeon, or healer of wounds. Sir Jac. True, master Lint, and equally skilful in both. Lint. It is your worship's pleasure to say so, sir Jacob. Is it your worship's will that I lend a ministring hand to the maimed? Sir Jac. By all means. Lint. And to whom must I bring in my bill? Lint. Your worship knows, that, kill or cure, I have contracted to physic the parish-poor by the great but this must be a separate charge. Sir Jac. No, no ; all under one: come, Master Lint, don't be unreasonable. Lint. Indeed, sir Jacob, I can hardly afford it. What with the dearness of drugs, and the number of patients the peace has procured me, I can't get salt to my porridge. Sir Jac. Bad this year, better the next.-We must take things rough and smooth as they run. Lint. Indeed, I have a very hard bargain. Sir Jac. No such matter; we are, neighbour Lint, a little better instructed. Formerly, indeed, a fit of illness was very expensive; but now, physic is cheaper than food. Lint. Marry, heaven forbid! Sir Jac. Why, hark'e, sirrah, do you think Mr Justice Drowsy would set his hand to a forgery? Lint. I know, sir Jacob, that woman; she has been cured of fifty diseases in a fortnight, and every one of them mortal. Sir Jac. You impudent- Lint. A palsy, by Walker--- Lint. Gout and sciatic, by Rock--- Lint. Consumption, by Steven's drops--- Lint. And squinting by the chevalier Taylor.-- Lint. And as to the justice, so the affidavit brings him a shilling-- Sir Jac. Why, hark'e, rascal, how dare you abuse the commission?---You blood-letting, toothdrawing, corn-cutting, worm-killing, blistering, glistering-- Lint. Bless me, sir Jacob, I did not think to--Sir Jac. What, sirrah, do you insult me in my office? Here, Roger, out with him!--Turn him out! Lint. Sir, as I hope to be-- Sir Jac. Away with him! [Exit] You scoundrel, if my clerk was within, I'd send you this instant to Sir Jac. No, no; your essences, elixirs, emetics, sweats, drops, and your pastes, and your pills, have silenced your pestles and mortars. Why, a fever that would formerly have cost you a fortune, you may now cure for twelve penny-Bridewell. Things are come to a pretty pass, inworth of powder. Lint. Or kill, sir Jacob. deed, if, after all my reading in Wood, and Nelson, and Burn; if, after twenty years attendance at turnpike-meetings, sessions, petty and quarter; if, after settling of rates, licensing ale-houses, and committing of vagrants--But all respect to authority is lost, and Unus Quorum, now-a-days, is no more regarded than a petty constable.-[Knocking.] Roger, see who is at the gate? Why, the fellow is deaf! Rog. Justice Sturgeon, the fishmonger, from Brentford. Sir Jac. Gad's my life! and major to the Middlesex militia! Usher him in, Roger. Enter MAJOR STURGEON. Sir Jac. I could have wished you had come a little sooner, major Sturgeon. Maj. Why, what has been the matter, sir Jacob? Sir Jac. There has, major, been here an impudent pill-monger, who has dared to scandalize the whole body of the bench. Maj. Insolent companion! had I been here, I would have mittimused the rascal at once. Sir Jac. No, no; he wanted the major more Sir Jac. Sworn, before the worshipful Mr Jus- | than the magistrate; a few smart strokes from tice Drowsy, this thirteenth day of— Lint, Forgery! your cane would have fully answered the purpose.- -Well, major, our wars are done; the |