1

Giles. No! Theo. Oh, infinite! infinite! To see the Pat. On the contrary, you are disagreeable cheerful, healthy-looking creatures, toil with such a good will! To me there were more genuine charms in their awkward stumping

to me.

Giles. Am I? Pat. Yes, of all things: I deal with you and jumping about, their rude measures, and sincerely. homespun finery, than in all the dress, splenGiles. Why, I thought, miss Pat, the affair dour, and studied graces of a birth-night ballbetween you and I was all fix'd and settled. room.

Pat. Well, let this undeceive you-Be as- Pat. 'Tis a very uncommon declaration to sured we shall never be man and wife. No be made by a fine lady, madam; but certainly, offer shall persuade, no command force me.however the artful delicacies of high life may You know my mind, make your advantage dazzle and surprise, nature has particular atof it. [Exit. tractions, even in a cottage, her most unadorned Giles. Here's a turn! I don't know what to state, which seldom fails to affect us, though make of it: she's gone mad, that's for sartin; we can scarce give a reason for it. wit and learning have crack'd her brain. But Theo. But you know, Patty, I was always hold, she says I baint to her mind-mayn't a distracted admirer of the country; no damall this be the effect of modish coyness, to do sel in romance was ever fonder of groves like the gentlewomen, because she was bred and purling streams: had I been born in the among them? And I have heard say, they will days of Arcadia, with my present propensity, be upon their vixen tricks till they go into the instead of being a fine lady, as you call me, very church with a man.-There can no harm I should certainly have kept a flock of sheep. come of speaking with master Fairfield, how- Pat. Well, madam, you have the sages, ever.-Odd rabbit it, how plaguy tart she was- poets, and philosophers of all ages, to counI am half vex'd with myself now that I let tenance your way of thinking.

her go off so.

Theo. And you, my little, philosophical friend, don't you think me in the right too? Pat. Yes indeed, madam, perfectly.

Mer. Yonder she is seated; and, to my

SCENE II.- A View of LORD AIMWORTH'S wish, most fortunately alone. Accost her as House and Improvements; a Seat under I desired.

a Tree, and part of the Gardenwall, Theo. Heigho!

with a Chinese Pavilion over it. Several Fan. Heaven bless you, my sweet lady— country People appear dancing, others bless your honour's beautiful visage, and send looking on; among whom are, MERVIN, you a good husband, and a great many of them. disguised, RALPH, FANNY, and a Number Theo. A very comfortable wish, upon my

word: who are you, child?

of Gipsies. Fan. A poor gipsy, an please you, that goes After the Dancers go off, THEODOSIA and about begging from charitable gentlemen and PATTY enter through a Gate supposed ladies-If you have e'er a coal or bit of whito have a Connexion with the principal ting in your pocket, I'll write you the first Building. letter of your sweetheart's name, how many Theo. Well then, my dear Patty, you will husbands you will have, and how many children, run away from us: but why in such a hurry? my lady: or, if you'll let me look at your I have a thousand things to say to you. line of life, I'll tell you whether it will be long Pat. I shall do myself the honour to pay or short, happy or miserable. my duty to you some other time, madam; at Theo. Oh! as for that, I know it alreadypresent I really find myself a little indisposed. you cannot tell me any good fortune, and Theo. Nay, I would by no means lay you therefore I'll hear none. Go about your business. under any restraint. But methinks the enter- Mer. Stay, madam, stay; [Pretending to tainment we have just been taking part of, lift a Paper from the Ground] you have should have put you into better spirits: I am dropp'd something-Fan, call the young gennot in an over merry mood myself, yet I could tlewoman back. not look on the diversion of those honest folks, without feeling a certain gaieté de coeur.

Pat. Why, indeed, madam, it had one circumstance attending it, which is often wanting to more polite amusements; that of seeming to give undissembled satisfaction to those who were engaged in it.

Fan. Lady, you have lost

Theo. Pho, pho, I have lost nothing. Mer. Yes, that paper, lady; you dropp'd it as you got up from the chair. Fan, give it her honour.

to

Theo. A letter with my address!
[Takes the Paper and reads.

Dear Theodosia! - Though the sight of and I are going to take a walk-My lady, will me was so disagreeable to you, that you you have hold of my arm? charged me never to approach you more, Lady S. No, sir Harry, I choose to I hope my hand-writing can have nothing myself.

go by

to frighten or disgust you. I am not far Mer. Now love assist me! - [Turning to off; and the person who delivers you this the Gipsies] Follow, and take all your cues can give you intelligence. from me-Nay but, good lady and gentleman,

gipsies.

Come hither, child: do you know any thing you won't go without remembering the poor of the gentleman that wrote this? Fan. My lady

Theo. Make haste, run this moment, bring me to him, bring him to me; say I wait with

gang

after us

Sir H. Hey! here is all the
Gip. Pray, your noble honour.
Lady S. Come back into the garden; we

impatience; tell him I will go, fly any where-shall be covered with vermin.

Mer. My life, my charmer!

Theo. Oh, heavens!-Mr. Mervin!

Enter SIR HARRY and LADY SYCAMORE.

Lady S. Sir Harry, don't walk so fast; we

are not running for a wager. Sir H. Hough, hough, hough.

Gip. Out of the bowels of your commiseration.

Lady S. They press upon us more and more yet that girl has no mind to leave them. shall swoon away.

Sir H. Don't be frighten'd, my lady; let me advance.

AIR.

Lady S. Hey-day, you have got a cough; You vile pack of vagabonds, what do

I shall have you laid upon my hands presently.
Sir H. No, no, my lady, it's only the old

affair.

I'll maul you, rascallions,
Ye tatterdemallions—

Such cursed assurance,
'Tis past all endurance.
Nay, nay, pray come away.
They're liars and thieves;
And he that believes
Their foolish predictions,
Will find them but fictions,

ye

Lady S. Come here, and let me tie this If one of them comes within reach of my car handkerchief about your neck; you have put yourself into a mucksweat already. [Ties a Handkerchief about his Neck] Have you taken your Bardana this morning? I warrant you no now, though you have been complaining of twitches two or three times, and you know the gouty season is coming on. Why will you be so neglectful of your health, sir Harry? I protest I am forced to watch you like an infant. [During this Speech, Mervin gives Theodosia a Letter.

Sir H. My lovey takes care of me, and I am obliged to her.

A bubble that always deceives. [Exeur

Re-enter FANNY and Gipsies. Fan. Oh! mercy, dear- The gentleman is so bold, 'tis well if he does not bring usin trouble. Who knows but this may be a just of peace?—And see, he's following them in the garden!

Lady S. Well, but you ought to mind me then, since you are satisfied I never speak but for your good. I thought, miss Sycamore, 1 Gip. Well, 'tis all your seeking, Fan. you were to have followed your papa and Fan. We shall have warrants to take us me into the garden-How far did you go with up, I'll be hang'd else. We had better re that wench? away; the servants will come out with sticks

Theo. They are gipsies, madam, they say. to lick 1) us. Indeed I don't know what they are.

Lady S. I wish, miss, you would learn to give a rational answer.

Re-enter MERVIN, with Gipsies. Mer. Cursed ill fortune-She's gone; a Sir H. Eh! what's that? ¡gipsies! Have we perhaps I shall not have another opportunity gipsies here? Vagrants, that pretend to a know- And you, ye blundering blockhead, I we' ledge of future events; diviners; fortune-tellers! give you a halfpenny-Why did not you c Fan. Yes, your worship; we'll tell your to the garden door when I called to you, fortune, or her ladyship's, for a crum of bread fore the young lady got in? The key was or a little broken victuals: what you throw to the outside, which would have given me so your dogs, an please you. time for an explanation.

Sir H. Broken victuals, hussy! How do you 2 Gip. An please your honour, I was dubus) think we should have broken victuals?-If we Mer. Dubus! plague choke ye-However, were at home, indeed, perhaps you might get it is some satisfaction that I have been ab some such thing from the cook: but here we to let her see me, and know where I am are only on a visit to a friend's house, and [Turning to the Gipsies]—Go, get you gon' have nothing to do with the kitchen at all. all of you, about your business. Lady S. And do you think, sir Harry, it is necessary to give the creature an account?

[Exeunt Gipsies

Theo. [Appears in the Pavilion] Disa Sir H. No, love, no; but what can you say peared, fled!-Oh, how unlucky this is! Cou to obstinate people?-Get you gone, bold face- he not have patience to wait a moment?

I once knew a merchant's wife in the city, my lady, who had her fortune told by some of those gipsies. They said she should die at such a time; and I warrant, as sure as the day came, the poor gentlewoman actually died with the conceit.-Come, Dossy, your mamma

Mer. I know not what to resolve on.
Theo. Hem!

Mer. I'll go back to the garden-door.
Theo. Mr. Mervin!

Mer. What do I see?-Tis she, 'tis se
1) To beat us.
⚫) Dubious.

herself! Oh, Theodosia! - Shall I climb the royster and touzle one so?--If Ralph was to wall and come up to you?

see you, he'd be as jealous as the vengeance. Mer. Hang Ralph! Never mind him.-There's a guinea for thee.

Fan. What, a golden guinea?

Mer. Yes; and if thou art a good girl, and
do as I desire thee, thou shalt have twenty.
Fan. Ay, but not all gold.
Mer. As good as that is.
Fan. Shall I though, if I does
Mer. You shall.

Theo. You say you have made a confidant of the miller's son:-return to your place of rendezvous My father has been asked this moment, by lord Aimworth, who is in the garden, to take a walk with him down to the mill: they will go before dinner; and it shall Oh, be hard if I cannot contrive to be one of the company.

Mer. Again and again.-There's a thought come into my head.-Theodosia will certainly have no objection to putting on the dress of a a sister of mine. So, and so only, we may Ralph. Well, and mayhap I will, if you'll escape to-night. This girl, for a little money, have patience.

will provide us with necessaries. [Aside. Fan. Patience me no patience; you may Fan. Dear gracious! I warrant you, now, do it now, if you please.

I am as red as my petticoat: why would you 1) I'll fight with him.

Ralph. Well, but suppose I don't please? so to do: besides, I do partly know why he I tell you, Fan, you're a fool, and want to did it; and I'll fish out the whole conjuration, quarrel with your bread and butter; I have and go up to the castle and tell every syllable: had anger enow from feyther already upon a shan't carry a wench from me, were he your account, and you want me to come by twenty times the mon he is, and twenty times more. As I said, if you have patience, may-to that again; and moreover than so, the first hap things may fall out, and mayhap not. time I meet un, I'll knock un down, thof Fan. With all my heart then; and now I'twas before my lord himself; and he may know your mind, you may go hang yourself. capias me for it afterwards an he wull.

Ralph. Ay, ay.

Fan. Yes, you may-who cares for you? Ralph. Well, and who cares for you, an you go to that?'

Fan. A menial feller 1)-Go mind your mill and your drudgery; I don't think you worthy to wipe my shoes-feller.

Ralph. Nay but, Fan, keep a civil tongue in your head: odds flesh! I would fain know what fly bites all of a sudden now.

Fan. Marry come up, the best gentlemen's sons in the country have made me proffers! and if one is a miss, be a miss to a gentleman, I say, that will give one fine clothes, and take one to see the show, and put money in one's pocket.

Ralph. Whu, whuSlap] What's that for?

Fan. What do you you think I am a dog?

[Fanny hits him a

whistle for then? Do

Ralph. Never from me, Fan, if I have not a mind to give you, with this switch in my hand here, as good a lacing 2)—

Fan. Touch me, if you dare: touch me, and I'll swear my life against you. Ralph. A murrain! with her damn'd little fist as hard as she could draw.

Fan. Well, it's good enough for you: I'm not necessitated to take up with the impudence of such a lowliv'd monkey as you are. - A gentleman's my friend, and I can have twenty guineas in my hand, all as good as this is.

Ralph. Belike from this Londoner, eh? Fan. Yes, from him--so you may take your promise of marriage; I don't value it that [Spits] and if you speak to me, I'll slap your chops again.

A 1 R.

Lord, sir, you seem mighty uneasy;
But I the refusal can bear:

I warrant I shall not run' crazy,
Nor die in a fit of despair.

If so you suppose, you're mistaken;
For, sir, for to let you to know,

I'm not such a maiden forsaken,

But I have two strings to my bow. [Exit.

AIR.

As they count me such a ninny,
So to let them rule the roast;
I'll bet any one a guinea,

They have scor'd without their host.
But if I don't show them, in lieu of it,
A trick that's fairly worth two of it,
Then let me pass for a fool and an ass.
To be sure yon sly cajoler

Thought the work as good as done,
When he found the little stroller

Was so easy to be won.

But if I don't show him, in lieu of it,
A trick that's fairly worth two of it,
Then let me pass for a fool or an ass. [Exi

SCENE III.-A Room in the Mill; two Chairs,
with a Table and a Tankard of Beer.

Enter FAIRFIELD and GILES.

Fair. In short, farmer, I don't know what to say to thee. I have spoken to her all. can; but I think children were born to pu the grey hairs of their parents to the grave with sorrow.

Giles. Nay, master Fairfield, don't take on about it: belike miss Pat has another love; and if so, in heaven's name be't: what's on man's meat, as the saying is, is another man' poison; tho'f some might find me well enough to their fancy, set in case I don't suit her's, why there's no harm done.

Fair. Well but, neighbour, I have put that to her; and the story is, she has no inclination to marry any one; all she desires is, to stay at home and take care of me.

Giles. Master Fairfield-here's towards your good health.

Fair. Thank thee, friend Giles-and here's towards thine. I promise thee, had thing gone as we proposed, thou shouldst have had one half of what I was worth, to the uttermost farthing.

Giles. Why to be sure, master Fairfield, but, as to that matter, had I married, it should am not the less obligated to your good will Ralph. Indeed! Now I'll be judg'd by any not have been for the lucre of gain; but if l soul living in the world, if ever there was a do like a girl, do you see, I do like her; a viler piece of treachery than this here: a couple and I'll take her, saving respect, if she bad of base, deceitful-after all my love and kind- not a second petticoat.

ness shown. Well, I'll be revenged; see an Fair. Well said — where love is, with a I ben't- Master Marvint, that's his name, an little industry, what have a young couple to he do not sham it: he has come here and be afraid of? And, by the lord Harry, for all disguised unself; whereof 'tis contrary to law that's past, I cannot help thinking we shall 1) Fellow. The common people of England have an bring our matters to bear yet-young women, idea that this word means a thief, (the word felon you know, friend Gilesbeing probably pronounced in the french manner, might

have given rise to this idea) and consequently will Giles. Why, that's what I have been thinking have it qualified by some well-meaning adjective, when with myself, master Fairfield.

it is used to them, or else they always take it ill.

We can say a good, young, fine, or handsome fellow, but we must be careful of saying the word fellow, alone.

2) Heating.

Fair. Come, then, mend thy draught.Deuce take me if I let it drop so-But, in any case, don't you go to make yourself uneasy;

Giles. Uneasy, master Fairfield; what good

would that do?-For sarten, seeing how things and declares she will never marry at all.— vere, I should have been very glad had they But I know, my lord, she'll pay great respect one accordingly: but if they change, 'tis no to any thing you say; and if you'll but lay ult of mine, you know. your commands on her to marry him, I'm sure she'll do it.

A I R.

ooks! why should I sit down and grieve?
No case so hard, there mayn't be had
o me med'cine to relieve.

ere's what masters all disasters:
With a cup of nut-brown beer,
Thus my drooping thoughts I cheer:
one pretty damsel fail me,
From another I may find
Return more kind;

What a murrain then should ail me!
All girls are not of a mind. `

's a child that whimpers for a toy;
‣ here's to thee, honest boy.

Enter LORD AIMWORTH.

Lord A. Who, I lay my commands on her? Fair. Yes, pray, my lord, do; I'll send her in to you, and I humbly beg you will tell her, you insist upon the match going forward; tell her, you insist upon it, my lord, and speak a [Exit. little angrily to her.

Lord A. Master Fairfield! What can be the meaning of this?-Refuse to marry the farmer! How, why?-My heart is thrown in an agitation; while every step I take serves but to lead me into new perplexities.

Enter PATTY.

I came hither, Patty, in consequence of our [Exit. conversation this morning, to render your change of state as agreeable and happy as I could: but your father tells me you have falFair. O the goodness, his lordship's honour len out with the farmer; has any thing hapyou are come into a litter'd place, my noble pened since I saw you last to alter your good -the arm-chair-will it please your honour opinion of him? repose you on this, till a betterLord A. Thank you, miller, there's no ocion for either.-I only want to speak a few rds to you, and have company waiting for without.

Pat. No, my lord, I am in the same opinion with regard to the farmer now as I always was.

Lord A. I thought,
you told me-
Pat. My lord!

Patty, you loved him;

Fair. Without-wou't their honours favour poor hovel so farLord A. Weil, no matter-It seems I have Lord A. No, miller, let them stay where been mistaken in that particnlar-Possibly y are. I find you are about marrying your your affections are engaged elsewhere: fet me ighter-I know the great regard my mother but know the man that can make you happy, 1 for her; and am satisfied that nothing and I swearther sudden death could have prevented Pat. Indeed, my lord, you take too much leaving her a handsome provision. trouble upon my account. Fair. Dear, my lord, your noble mother, 1, and all your family, have heaped favours favours on my poor child.

Lord A. Whatever has been done for her has fully merited—

Fair. Why, to be sure, my lord, she is a y good girl.

Lord A. Perhaps, Patty, you love somebody so much beneath you, you are ashamed to own it; but your esteem confers a value wheresoever it is placed: I was too harsh with you this morning: our inclinations are not in our own power; they master the wisest of us.

Pat. Pray, pray, my lord, talk not to me Lord A. Poor old man—but those are tears in this style: consider me as one destined by satisfaction-Here, master Fairfield, to bring birth and fortune to the meanest condition and tters to a short conclusion, here is a bill offices. Let me conquer a heart, where pride a thousand pounds.-Portion your daughter and vanity have usurped an improper rule; h what you think convenient of it. and learn to know myself.

Fair. A thousand pounds, my lord! Pray Lord A. Or possibly, Patty, you love some use me; excuse me, worthy sir; too much one so much above you, you are afraid to been done already, and we have no pre-own it-If so, be his rank what it will, he is to be envied: for the love of a woman of vir

sions

Lord A. I insist upon your taking it.-Put tue, beauty, and sentiment, does honour to a ip, and say no more. monarch. What means that downcast look, Fair. Well, my lord, if it must be so: but those tears, those blushes? Dare you not coneed, indeedfide in me?-Do you think, Patty, you have Lord A. In this I only fulfil what I am sa- a friend in the world would sympathize with ied would please my mother. As to my-you more sincerely than I?

, I shall take upon me all the expenses of Pat. What shall I answer? [Aside]—No, ty's wedding, and have already given orders my lord; you have ever treated me with a ut it. kindness, a generosity of which none but minds Fair. Alas, sir, you are too good, too ge-like yours are capable: you have been my inous; but I fear we shall not be able to structor, my adviser, my protector: but, my fit of your kind intentions, unless you will lord, you have been too good: when our sudescend to speak a little to Patty. Lord A. How speak!

periors forget the distance between us, we are sometimes led to forget it too: had you been less condescending, perhaps I had been happier.

Fair. Why, my lord, I thought we had tty well ordered all things concerning this Lord A. And have I, Patty, have I made you rriage; but all on a sudden the girl has unhappy; I, who would sacrifice my own feen it into her head not to have the farmer, licity to secure yours?