SCENE I.-Rovewell's lodgings. ROBIN Solus. ACT I. 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 Fortune, perhaps, might throw an opportunity 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, caning, or pump-in ing, nay, often hanging-Let me see; I have committed three burglaries to get one letter to her-Now, 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 must hasten and get our disguises. And if dame Fortune fails us now to win her. Oh, all ye gods above! the devil's in her. [Exit. 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. [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 it closely, you may perhaps release her, who would be your ARETHUSA.' 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 illusage that forced my child away-His not having scen 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 wish-If 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 solus. AIR. Are. See! the radiant queen of night Sheds on all her kindly beams; Tasteless all things yet appear, Enter ARGUS. 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 cunuing 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 country stuff, you never set your eyes on! Arg. Pray, daughter, what lingo is that same But the petticoats are soon thrown off; and if you chant and sputter out at this rate? Are. English, sir. good luck attends us, you may easily conjure Miss Malkin, the squire's sister, into your own Arg. English, quotha! adod I took it to be dear captain. 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 to-morrow you shall have a husband to stay your stomach, and no less a person than 'squire Cuckoo. Are. You will not, surely, be so cruel as to marry me to a man I cannot love! Arg. Why, What sort of a man would you have, Mrs Minx? 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, 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. [Without.] Tummos! Arg. Tummos! Who's Tummos? Who would you speak with, friend? Rob. [Without.] With young master's vatherin-law, that mun be, master Hardguts. Arg. And what's your business with master Hardguts? Rov. Now, you rogue, for a lie an hour and a half long, to keep the old fellow in suspence. [Aside to ROBIN. Exit with BEtty. Rob. Well, master! don't you think my mistress a dainty young woman? She's wonderfully bemired in our country for her shapes. 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 come so many Rob. [Without.] Why, young mistress is out of the country to see brother's wife, that mun be, that's all. taverns and chockling housen; you may as well syek a needle in a bay fardel, as they say'n Arg. Odso, the squire's sister! I'm sorry I' the country. I was at squire's lodging yonder, 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! your 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 bcasts; an' you stond not by 'em yourzell, and sec '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 falsehearted 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! 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 vixen 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-hnnters 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; I sign my consent before-hand. [Kisses her. Are. Indeed, captain, I am afraid to trust Arg. So, so; this is as it should be; they are as gracious as they 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. Aside. 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. [Aside. 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. [Aside. 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 ever. Arg. You may go to the devil for ever, Mrs. Impudence! [Aside. Are. Well, captain, if you should deceive me! Rov. If I do, may heaven Are. Nay, no swearing, captain, for fear should prove like the rest of your sex. you 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. [Aside. 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. Arg. And what hast thou got there, child? Bet. Nothing but pi-pi-pi-pins, sir. Arg. Here, give me the pius, and do you go to hell, Mrs. Minx! D'ye hear? out of my house this moment! these are chamber jades, forsooth!-O tempora! O mores! what an age is this! Get you in forsooth; I'll talk with you anon. [Exit ARETHUSA.] So, captain, are those your regimental clothes? I'll assure you they become you mightily. If you did but see yourself now, how much like a hero yon look! Ecce signum! ha, ha, ha! Rove. Blood and fury! stop your grinning, or I'll stretch your mouth with a vengeance. Arg. Nay, nay, captain Belswagger, if you're so passionate, 'tis high time to call aid and assistance: here, Richard, Thomas, John! help me to lay hold on this fellow; you have no sword now, captain; no sword, d'ye mark me? Enter Servants and ROBIN. Rove. But I have a pistol, sir, at your ser[Pulls out a pistol. vice. Arg. O Lord! O Lord! Rove. And I'll unload it in your breast, if you stir one step after me. Arg. A bloody-minded dog! But lay hold on that rogue there, that country-cheat. Rob. See here, gentlemen, are two little bulldogs of the same breed (Presenting two pistols.) they are wonderful scourers of the brain;so that, if you offer to molest or follow meyou understand me, gentlemen? you understand me? 1 Ser. Yes, yes; we understand you, with a pox! 2 Ser. The devil go with them, I say! Arg. Ay, ay; good-bye to you, in the devil's name.-A terrible dog!-what a fright he has put me in!—I shan't be myself this month. And you, ye cowardly rascals! to stand by and see my life in danger; get out, ye slaves! oat of my house, I say! I'll put an end to all this; for I'll not have a servant in the house.I'll carry all the keys in my pocket, and never sleep more. What a murdering son of a whore is this! But I'll prevent him; for to-morrow she shall be married certainly, and then my furious gentleman can have no hopes left. —— A Jezabel, to have a red-coat without any money!-Had he but money-if he wanted sense, manners, or even manhood itself, it mattered not a pin;-but to want money is the devil! Well, I'll secure her under lock and key till to-morrow: and if her husband can't keep her from captain-hunting, e'en let her bring him a fresh pair of horns every time she goes out upon the chase. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I.-A Chamber. Arg. A very dutiful lady, indeed! I'll make you sing another song to-morrow; and, till ARETHUSA discovered sitting melancholy on a then, I'll leave you in salva custodia, to con couch. AIR. O leave me to complain I never more shall see my swain, O cruel, cruel Fate! What joy can I receive, When in the arms of one I hate, I'm doomed alas, to live? Ye pitying pow'rs above, That see my soul's dismay, Or bring me back the man I love, Or take my life away. Enter ARGUS. Arg. So, lady! you're welcome home !-See how the pretty turtle sits moaning the loss of her mate!-What! not a word, Thusy? not a word, child? Come, come; don't be in the dumps now, and I'll fetch the captain, or the 'squire's sister: perhaps they may make it prattle a bit Ah, ungracious girl! Is all my care come to this? Is this the gratitude you show your uncle's memory, to throw away what he had bustled so hard for, at so mad a rate? Did he leave you 12,000l. think you, to make you no better than a soldier's trull? to follow a camp to carry a knapsack? This is what you'd have, mistress, is it not? Are. This, and ten thousand times worse, were better with the man I love, than to be chained to the nauseous embraces of one I hate. sider. B'ye, Thusy! Are. How barbarous is the covetousness and caution of ill-natured parents. They toil for estates with a view to make posterity happy; and then, by a mistaken prudence, they match us to our aversion. But I am resolved not to suffer tamely, however.-They shall see, though my body's weak, my resolution's strong, and I may yet find spirit enough to plague them. |