Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

Mar. Dear heart, how can you be so barbarous? and is this the way you serve me after all? and won't you keep your word, Hodge?

Hodge. Why, no, I won't, I tell you; I have changed my mind.

Mar. Nay, but surely, surely-Consider, Hodge, you are obligated in conscience to make me an honest woman.

Hodge. Obligated in conscience! How am I obligated?

Mar. Because you are; and none but the basest of rogues would bring a poor girl to shame, and afterwards leave her to the wide world.

Hodge. Bring you to shame! Don't make me speak, Madge; don't make me speak.

Mar. Yes, do; speak your worst.

Hodge. Why, then, if you go to that, you were fain to leave your own village down in the West, for a bastard you had by the clerk of the parish, and I'll bring the man shall say it to your face.

[blocks in formation]

J. Wood. Fie, fie, what a crowd's this! Odd, I'll put some of them in the stocks. [Striking a fellone.] Stand out of the way, sirrah!

Haw. For shame, neighbour! Well, my lad, are you willing to serve the king?

Mar. No, no, Hodge; 'tis no such thing; 'tis a base lie of farmer Ploughshare's-But, I know what makes you false hearted to me-that you Coun. Why, can you list ma! Serve the king, may keep company with young madam's wait-master! no, no! I pay the king, that's enough ing woman; and I am sure she's no fit body for for me. Ho, ho, ho! a poor man's wife.

Hodge. How should you know what she's fit for? She's fit for as much as you, mayhap; don't find fault with your betters, Madge. [Seeing YOUNG MEADOWS.] Oh! Master Thomas, I have a word or two to say to you; pray, did not you go down the village one day last week, with a basket of something upon your shoulder?

Young Mea. Well, and what then?

Hodge. Nay, not much, only the ostler at the Green Man was saying, as how there was a passenger at their house, as see'd you go by, and said he know'd you; and axt a mort of questions -So I thought I'd tell you.

Young Mea. The devil! ask questious about me! I know nobody in this part of the country; there must be some mistake in it-Come hither, Hodge. [Exit HODGE. Mar. A nasty, ungrateful fellow, to use me at this rate, after being to him as I have.-Well, well, I wish all poor girls would take warning by my mishap, and never have nothing to say to none of them.

AIR.

How happy were my days, till now!
I ne'er did sorrow feel;
I rose with joy, to milk my cow,
Or take my spinning-wheel.

My heart was lighter than a fly,
Like any bird I sung,
Till he pretended love, and I

Believed his flattering tongue.

Haw. Well said, Sturdy-boots!

J. Wood. Nay, if you talk to them, they'll answer you.

Haw. I would have them do so; I like they should-Well, madam, is not this a fine sight? I did not know my neighbour's estate had been so well peopled-Are all these his own tenants?

Mrs. Deb. More than are good of them, Mr. Hawthorn. I don't like to see such a parcel of young hussies fleering with the fellows.

Haw. There's a lass. [Beckoning to a Country Girl.] Come hither, my pretty maid. What brings you here? [Chucking her under the chin.] you come to look for a service?

Do

C. Girl. Yes; an't please you.

Haw. Well, and what place are you for?
C. Girl. All work, an't please you.

J. Wood. Ay, ay, I don't doubt it; any work you'll put her to.

Mrs, Deb. She looks like a brazen one-Go, hussy.

Haw. Here's another. [Catching a girl that goes by.] What health, what bloom!-This is Nature's work; no art, no daubing. Don't be ashamed, child; those cheeks of thine are enough to put a whole drawing room out of counte

nance.

Hodge. Now, your honour, now the sport will come. The gut-scrapers are here, and some among them are going to sing and dance. Why, there's not the like of our statute, mun, in five counties; others are but fools to it.

Sercant-man. Come, good people, make a ring, and stand out, fellow servants, as many of you as are willing, and able to bear a bob.We'll let my masters and mistresses see we can

[blocks in formation]

Luc. Well, am not I a bold adventurer, to bring you into my father's house at noon-day? Though, to say the truth, we are safer here than in the garden; for there is not a human creature under the roof besides ourselves.

Eus. Then why not put our scheme into execution this moment? I have a post-chaise ready.

Luc. Fie! how can you talk so lightly? I protest I am afraid to have any thing to do with you; your passion seems too much founded on appetite; and my aunt Deborah says

Eus. What! By all the rapture my heart now feels

Luc. Oh, to be sure, promise and vow! it sounds prettily, and never fails to impose upon a fond female.

AIR.

We women like weak Indians trade,
Whose judgment tinsel show decoys;
Dupes to our folly we are made,
While artful man the gain enjoys:
We give our treasure, to be paid,

A paltry, poor return! in toys.

Eus. Well, I see you've a mind to divert yourself with me; but I wish I could prevail on you to be a little serious.

Luc. Seriously, then, what would you desire me to say? I bave promised to run away with you; which is as great a concession as any rea sonable lover can expect from his mistress.

Eus. Yes, but, you dear, provoking angel, you have not told me when you will run away with me.

Luc. Why that, I confess, requires some consideration.

Eus. Yet, remember, while you are deliberating, the season, now so favourable to us, may elapse, never to return.

AIR.

Think, my fairest, how delay Danger every moment brings ; Time flies swift, and will away;

Time that's ever on its wings; Doubting and suspence at best, Lovers late repentance cost; Let us eager to be blest,

Seize occasion e'er 'tis past.

Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK, and MRS. DEBORAH WOODCOCK.

J. Wood. Why, here is nothing in the world in this house but cater-wauling from morning till night, nothing but cater-wauling! Hoity toity! who have we here?

Luc. My father and my aunt!

Eus. The devil! what shall we do?

Luc. Take no notice of them, only observe me.-[Speaks aloud to Eus.]-Upon my word, sir, I don't know what to say to it, unless the justice was at bome; he is just stepped into the village with some company; but, if you'll sit down a moment, I dare swear he will return[Pretends to see the Justice.] Ob! Sir, here is my papa!

J. Wood. Here is your papa, hussy! Who's this you have got with you? Hark you, sirrah, who are you, ye dog? And what's your business

here?

Eus. Sir, this is a language I am not used to. J. Wood. Don't answer me, you rascal-I am a justice of the peace; and if I hear a word out of your mouth, I'll send you to jail, for all your

Jaced hat.

Mrs. Deb. Send him to jail, brother, that's right.

J. Wood. And how do you know it's right? How should you know any thing's right? Sister Deborah, you are never in the right.

- Mrs. Deb. Brother, this is the man I have been telling you about so long.

J. Wood. What man, goody Wise-acre ! Mrs. Deb. Why, the man your daughter has an intrigue with: but I hope you will not believe it now, though you see it with your own eyesCome, hussy, confess, and don't let your father make a fool of himself any longer.

Luc. Confess what, aunt! This gentleman is a music-master: he goes about the country, teaching ladies to play and sing; and has been recommended to instruct me: I could not turn him out when he came to offer his service; and did not know what answer to give him till I saw my papa.

J. Wood. A music-master!

Eus. Yes, sir, that's my profession.

Mrs. Deb. It's a lie, young man; it's a lieBrother, he is no more a music-master than I

am a music-master.

J. Wood. What then, you know better than

513

the fellow himself? and you will be wiser than all the world?

Mrs. Deb. Brother, he does not look like a music-master.

J. Wood. He does not look! Ha, ha, ha! was ever such a poor stupe! well, and what does he look like, then? But I suppose you mean he is not dressed like a music-master, because of his ruffles, and this bit of garnishing about his coat -which seems to be copper, too-why, you silly wretch, these whipper-snappers set up for genairs as if they were people of quality. Hark ye, tlemen, now-a-days, and give themselves as many friend, I suppose you don't come within the vagrant act? You have some settled habitationwhere do you live?

Mrs. Deb. It is an easy matter for him to tell you a wrong place.

J. Wood. Sister Deborah, don't provoke me. Mrs. Deb. I wish, brother, you would let me examine bim a little.

sha'n't say a word to him. J. Wood. You sha'n't say a word to him; you

here, brother; ask him by whom? Mrs. Deb. She says he was recommended

J. Wood. No, I won't, now, because you desire it.

Luc. If my papa did ask the question, aunt, it would be very easily resolved.

Chops? I suppose the man has a tongue in his Mrs. Deb. Who bid you speak, Mrs. Nimble head, to answer for himself.

J. Wood. Will nobody stop that prating old woman's mouth for me? Get out of the room!

Mrs. Deb. Well, so I can, brother; I don't will make yourself ridiculous in this affair: for, want to stay: but, remember, I tell you, you daughter run away with, before your face. through your own obstinacy, you will have your

with my daughter? J. Wood. My daughter! Who will run away

Mrs. Deb. That fellow will.

J. Wood. Go, go, you are a wicked, censorious

woman.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

J. Wood. Well done, Lucy! send her about her business; a troublesome, foolish creature! does she think I want to be directed by her? Come hither, my lad, you look tolerable hoDest?

Eus. I hope, sir, I shall never give you cause to alter your opinion,

J. Wood. No, no, I am not easily deceived; I am generally pretty right in my conjectures.You must know, I had once a little notion of music myself, and learned upon a fiddle; I could play the Trumpet Minuet, and Buttered Peas, and two or three tunes. I remember, when I was in London about thirty years ago, there was a song, a great favourite at our club at Nando's coffee-house; Jack Pickle used to sing it for usa droll fish! but 'tis an old thing; I dare swear you have heard of it often.

[blocks in formation]

Eus. Very well, sir, upon my word.

J. Wood. No, no, I forget all these things now; but I could do a little at them once; well, stay and eat your dinner, and we'll talk about your teaching the girl—Lucy, take your master to your spinnet, and shew him what you can do I must go and give some orders: Then hoity toity, &c. [Exit J. WooD. Luc. My sweet, pretty papa, your most obedient humble servant; ha, ha, ha! Was ever so whimsical an accident? Well, sir, what do you

think of it?

Eus. Think of it! I am in amaze.

Luc. O your aukwardness! I was frightened out of my wits, lest you should not take the hint; and, if I had not turned matters so cleverly, we should have been utterly undone.

Eus. 'Sdeath! why would you bring me into the house We could expect nothing else: besides, since they did surprise us, it would have been better to have discovered the truth.

Luc. Yes, and never have seen one another afterwards! I know my father better than you do; he has taken it into his head I have no inclination for a husband; and, let me tell you, that is our best security; for if once he has said a thing, he will not be easily persuaded to the contrary.

Eus. And pray, what am I to do now?

Luc. Why, as I think all danger is pretty well over, since he hath invited you to dinner with him, stay; only be cautious of your behaviour; and, in the mean time, I will consider what is next to be done.

Eus. Had not I better go to your father? Luc. Do so, while I endeavour to recover myself a little out of the flurry this affair has put me in.

Eus. Well, but what sort of a parting is this, without so much as your servant, or good by to you? No ceremony at all? Can you afford me no token to keep up my spirits till I see you again?

[blocks in formation]

Ros. If ever poor creature was in a pitiable condition, surely I am. The devil take this fellow, I cannot get him out of my head! and yet I would fain persuade myself I don't care for him: well, but, surely, I am not in love. Let me examine my heart a little: I saw him kissing one of the maids the other day; I could have boxed his ears for it, and have done nothing but find fault and quarrel with the girl ever since. Why was I uneasy at his toying with another woman? What was it to me? Then I dream of him almost every night-but that may proceed from his being generally uppermost in my thoughts all day: Oh! worse and worse! Well, he is cer

tainly a pretty lad; he has something uncommon | answer for our inclinations, but it is in our power about him, considering his rank : And now, let not to give way to them; and, if I was so silly ; me only put the case, if he was not a servant, I say, if I was so indiscreet, which I hope I am would I, or would I not, prefer him to all the not, as to entertain an improper regard, when men I ever saw? Why, to be sure, if he was not people's circumstances are quite unsuitable, and a servant-In short, I'll ask myself no more there are obstacles in the way that cannot be questions; for the further I examine, the less | surrmountedreason I shall have to be satisfied.

AIR.

How blessed the maid, whose bosom
No headstrong passion knows ;
Her days in joy she passes,
Her nights in calm repose.
Where'er her fancy leads her,
No pain, no fear invades her;
But pleasure,
Without measure,
From every object flows.

Enter YOUNG MEADOWS.

Young Mea. Do you come into the garden, - Mrs. Rossetta, to put my lilies and roses out of countenance; or, to save me the trouble of watering my flowers, by reviving them? The sun seems to have hid himself a little, to give you an opportunity of supplying his place.

Young Mea. Oh! to be sure, Mrs. Rossetta, to be sure: you are entirely in the right of iti-know very well, you and I can never come together.

Ros. Well, then, since that is the case, as I am sure you it is, I think we had better behave accordingly.

Young Mea. Suppose we make a bargain, then, never to speak to one another any more? Ros. With all my heart.

Young Mea. Nor look at, nor, if possible, think of, one another?

Ros. I am very willing.

Young Mea. And, as long as we stay in the house together, never to take any notice? Ros. It is the best way.

Young Mea. Why, I believe it is-Well, Mrs. Rossetta

Ros. Where could he get that, now? He never read it in the Academy of Compliments. Young Mea. Come, don't affect to treat me Young with contempt; I can suffer any thing better than that. In short, I love you ; there is no more to be said: I am angry with myself for it, and strive all I can against it; but, in spite of myself, I love you.

AIR.

In vain, I every art essay,
To pluck the venomed shaft away,
That rankles in my heart;
Deep in the centre fixed and bound-
My efforts but enlarge the wound,

And fiercer make the smart.

Ros. Really, Mr. Thomas, this is very improper language; it is what I don't understand; I can't suffer it, and, in short, I don't like it.

Young Mea. Perhaps, you don't like me?
Ros. Well, perhaps, I don't.

Young Mea. Nay, but 'tis not so; come, confess you love me.

Ros. Confess ! indeed, I shall confess no such thing: besides, to what purpose should I confess it?

Young Mea. Why, as you say, I don't know to what purpose; only, it would be a satisfaction to me to hear you say so; that's all.

Ros. Why, if I did love you, I can assure you, you would never be the better for it-Women are apt enough to be weak; we cannot always

AIR.

Ros. Begone!-I agree,

From this moment, we're free,
Already the matter I've sworn :
Mea. Yet let me complain

Of the fates that ordain—
A trial so hard to be borne.
Ros. When things are not fit,

We should calmly submit ;
No cure in reluctance we find:
Young Mea. Then, thus I obey,

Tear your image away,

And banish you quite from my mind.

Ros. Well, now, I think, I am somewhat easier: I am glad I am come to this explanation with him, because it puts an end to things at

once.

Young Mea. Hold, Mrs. Rossetta, pray stay a moment-The airs this girl gives herself are intolerable! I find now the cause of her behaviour; she despises the meanness of my condition, thinking a gardener below the notice of a lady's waiting woman: 'Sdeath, I have a good mind to discover myself to her.

Ros. Poor wretch! he does not know what to make of it: I believe he is heartily mortified, | but I must not pity him.

Young Mea. It shall be so: I will discover myself to her, and leave the house directly.Mrs. Rossetta. [Starting back.] Pox on't, yonder is the Justice come into the garden.

Ros. O, Lord! he will walk round this way; pray go about your business; I would not for the world he should see us together.

Young Mea. The devil take him! he's gone across the parterre, and can't hobble here this

« НазадПродовжити »