Luc. You won't be so cruel, I'm sure you won't: I thought I had made you my friend by telling you the truth. Mrs. D. Telling me the truth, quotha! did I not overhear your scheme of running away to-night through the partition? did I not find the very bundles pack'd up in the room with you, ready for going off? No, brazen-face, I found out the truth by my own sagacity, though your father says I am a fool, but now we'll be judged who is the greatest; and Mr. Rascal; my brother shall know what an honest servant he has got. you, Hodge. Madam! Mrs. D. You were to have been aiding and assisting them in their escape, and have been the gobetween, it seems; the letter-carrier ! Hodge. Who? me, madam? Hodge. Miss Lucinda, did I ever carry a letter for you? I'll make my affidavy before his worshipMrs. D. Go, go, you are a villain; hold your tongue. Luc. I own, aunt, I have been very faulty in this affair; I don't pretend to excuse myself; but we are all subject to frailties; consider that, and judge of me by yourself; you were once young and inexperienced as I am. Mrs. D. This is mighty pretty, romantic stuff! but you learn it out of your play books and novels. Girls in my time had other employments, we worked at our needles, and kept ourselves from idle thoughts; before I was your age, I had finished, with my own fingers, a complete set of chairs and a fire-screen in tent-stitch, four counterpanes in Marseilles quilting, and the Creed and the Ten Commandments in the hair of our family; it was framed and glaz'd, and hung over the parlour chimney-piece, and your poor, dear grandfather was prouder of it than e'er a picture in his house. I never looked into a book, but when I said my prayers, except it was the Complete Housewife, or the great Family Receipt Book: whereas, you are always at your studies! Ah! I never knew a woman come to good, that was fond of reading. Luc. Well pray, madam, let me prevail on you to give me the key to let Mr. Eustace out, and I promise I never will proceed a step further in this business without your advice and approbation. Mrs. D. Have not I told you already, my resolution? Where are my clogs and my bonnet? I'll go out to my brother in the fields; I'm a fool, you know, child; now let's see what the wits will think of themselves. Don't hold me. [Exit. Luc. I'm not going; I have thought of a way to be even with you, so you may do as you please. [Exit. Hodge. Well, I thought, it would come to this, I'll be shot if I didn't; so, here's a fine job: but what can they do to me? They can't send me to gaol for carrying a letter, seeing there was no treason in it; and how was I obliged to know my master did not allow of their meetings? The worst they can do, is to turn me off, and I am sure the place is no such great purchase; indeed, I should be sorry to leave Mrs. Rosetta, seeing as how matters are so near being brought to an end betwixt us; but she and I may keep company all as one: and I find Madge has been speaking with Gaffer Broadwheels, the waggoner, about her carriage up to London; so that I have got rid of she, and I am sure I have reason to be main glad of it, Young M. Confusion! my father! What can this mean? Sir W. Tom, are not you a sad boy, Tom, to bring me a hundred and forty miles here? May I never do an ill turn, but you deserve to have your head broke; and I have a good mind, partly. What, sirrah, don't you think it worth your while to speak to me? Young M. Forgive me, sir; I own I have been in fault. Sir W. In fault! to run away from me because I was going to do you good. May I never do an ill turn, Mr. Hawthorn, if I did not pick out as fine a girl from him, partly, as any in England! and the rascal ran away from me, and came here and turn'd gardener. And pray what did you propose to yourself, Tom? I know you were always fond of botany, as they call it: did you intend to keep the trade going, and advertise fruit-trees and flowering-shrubs, to be had at Meadows' nursery? Haw. No, sir William, I apprehend the young gentleman designed to lay by the profession; for he has quitted the habit already. Young M. I am so astonished to see you here, sir, that I don't know what to say: but I assure you, if you had not come, I should have returned home directly. Pray, sir, how did you find me out? thod, sir, to let me see you are acquainted with my folly, whatever my inclinations are. Sir W. No matter, Tom, no matter: it was partly by accident as a body may say; but what does that signify? Tell me, boy, how stands your stomach towards matrimony: do you think you could digest a wife now? Young M. Pray, sir, don't mention it: I shall always behave myself as a dutiful son ought: I will never marry without your consent, and I hope you won't force me to do it against my own. Sir W. Is not this mighty provoking, master Hawthorn? Why, sirrah, did you ever see the lady I designed for you? Young M. Sir, I don't doubt the lady's merit; but, at present I am not disposed Haw. Nay but, young gentleman, fair and softly; you should pay some respect to your father in this matter. Sir W. Respect, master Hawthorn! I tell you he shall marry her, or I'll disinherit him! there's once. Look you, Tom, not to make any more words of the matter, I have brought the lady here with me, and I'll see you contracted before we part; or you shall delve and plant cucumbers as long as you live. Young M. Have you brought the lady here, sir? I am sorry for it. Sir W. Well but, Tom, suppose I give my consent to your marrying this young woman? Young M. Your consent, sir? Sir. W. May I never do an ill turn, Tom, if it is not truth! this is my friend's daughter. Young M. 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 M. 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 W. Well then, Tom, come into the air a bit, and recover yourself. Young M. Nay, dear sir, have a little patience; do you give her to me? Sir W. Give her to you! ay, that I do, and my blessing into the bargain. Young M. Then, sir, I am the happiest man in the world! I inquire no further; here I fix the utmost limits of my hopes and happiness. DUET. Fortune can no more impart; Sir W. Why sorry? What, then, you won't marry her? We'll see that! Pray, master Haw- Young M. All I wish, in her obtaining, thorn, conduct the fair one in. [Exit Hawthorn.] Ay, sir, you may fret and dance about, trot at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, if you please; but, marry whip me, I'm resolved. Enter HAWTHORN and ROSETTA. Haw. Here is the lady, sir William. Sir W: 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 M. 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 W. How, Tom, how? And pray, sir, who are your affections engaged to? Let me know that. Young M. To a person, sir, whose rank and fortune may be no recommendation to her, but whose charms and accomplishments entitle her to a mo narch. I am sorry, sir, it's impossible for me to comply with your commands, and I hope you will not be offended if I quit your presence. Sir W. Not I, not in the least: go about your business. Young M. Sir, I obey. Haw. Now, madam, is the time. Ros. Let my eyes, my thoughts explaining, Together. Here my faith and truth I plight; May our flames burn ever bright! Young M. And may I believe this? Pr'ythee teh me, dear Rosetta! Ros. Step into the house, and I'll tell you every thing; I must entreat 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. (Rosetta advances. Young Meadows turns round and we'll make a double wedding; and, by way of ce sees her.) lebrating it, take a trip to London, to show the brides some of the pleasures of the town. Come, children, go before us. (Exeunt Young M. and Ros) And, master Hawthorn, you shall be of the party. 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 catch'd in those regions of smoke, May I ne'er know the sweets of a slumber unbroke, SCENE III-Justice Woodcock's Hall. Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK, MRS. DEBORAH WOODCOCK, LUCINDA, EUSTACE and HODGE. Mrs. D. 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. Jus. W. Well, you hear what they say. Mrs. D. I care not what they say; it's you encourage them in their impudence. Hark ye, 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. Eust. Seriously, madam, this is carrying the jest a little too far. Mrs. D. What, then, I did not catch you together in the chamber, nor overhear your design of going off to-night, nor find the bundles packed upEust. Ha, ha, ha! Luc. Why, aunt, you rave. Mrs. D. 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. Oh Lord! Oh Lord! Mrs. D. What, sirrah, would you brazen me too! Take that. (Boxes his ears.) Hodge. I wish you would keep your hands to yourself! You strike me, because you have been telling his worship stories. Jus W. Why, sister, you are tipsy. Mrs. D. I tipsy, brother! I-that never touch a drop of anything strong from year's end to year's end; but now and then a little aniseed water, when I have got the cholic. Luc. Well, aunt, you have been complaining of the stomach-ache all day; and may have taken too powerful a dose of your cordial. Jus. W. 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, ROSETTA, ana Young MEADOWS. Young M. Bless me, sir! look who is yonder. Sir W. Cocksbones! Jack, honest Jack, are you there? Eust. Plague on't, this rencounter is unlucky; sir William, you servant. Sir W. Your servant, again and again, heartily your servant; may I never do an ill turn, but I am glad to meet you. Jus. W. Pray, sir William, are you acquainted with this person? Sir W. 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. Jus. W. 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 scrape of catgut, and teaches my daughter to sing. Sir W. What, Jack Eustace a music-master! no, no; I know him better. Eust. '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 musicmaster, indeed. Jus. W. You are not? you own it, then? Eust. Nay more, sir, I am, as this lady has represented me. (pointing to Mrs. Deborah,)-your daughter's lover: whom, with her own consent, I did intend to have carried off this night; but now and what I am, I throw myself upon your genethat sir William Meadows is here, to tell you who rosity; from which I expect greater advantages than I could reap from any imposition upon your unsuspicious nature. yourself now? You have made a precious day's Mrs. D. Well, brother, what have you to say for ashamed of you; but you are a weak man, and it work of it! Had my advice been taken-Oh, I am can't be helped; however, you should let wiser heads direct you. Luc. Dear papa, pardon me. Sir W. Ay, do, sir, forgive her; my cousin Jack will make her a good husband, I'll answer for it. Ros. Stand out of the way, and let me speak two or three words to his worship. Come, my dear sir, though you refuse all the world. I am sure you know what I mean. Be reconciled can deny me nothing: love is a vouial fault. You your daughter, I conjure you, by the memory of our past affections. What, not a word? AIR. Go, naughty man, I can't abide you; What would have been my hopeful lot. to But here I charge you,-make them happy; Bless the fond pair, and crown their bliss; Come, be a dear, good-natur'd pappy, And I'll reward you with a kiss. Mrs. D. 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: of the house? he shall stay where he is. Jus. W. Who gave you authority to turn him out Mrs. D. He shan't marry my niece. Jus. W. Shan't he; but I'll show you the difference now; I say he shall marry her, and what will you do about it? Mrs. D. And you will give him your estate too, will you? Jus. W. Yes, I will. Mrs. D. Why, I'm sure he's a vagabond. Jus. W. I like him the better; I would have him a vagabond. Mrs. D. 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 W. May I never do an ill turn, but I say so too. Jus. W. Here, young fellow, take my daughter, and bless you both together; but hark you, no money till I die. Sister Deborah, you're a fool. Mrs. D. Ah, brother, brother, you're a silly old man. [Exit ALTERED FROM THE GERMAN OF KOTZEBUE.-BY H. B. SHERIDAN. Rol. "HE WHO MOVES ONE STEP TO FOLLOW ME, DIES UPON THE SPOT."-Act v, scene 2. Val. I am his servant, it is true-trusted by him -and 1 know him well; and, therefore, 'tis I ask SCENE I-A magnificent Pavilion near Pizarro's by what magic could Pizarro gain your heart, by tent. ELVIRA discovered sleeping under a canopy. VALVERDE enters, gazes on Elvira, and attempts to kiss her hand; Elvira awakened, rises, and looks a him with indignation. Elo. Audacious, whence is thy privilege to interrupt the few moments of repose my harassed mind can snatch, amid the tumults of this noisy camp? Shall I inform your master of this prosumptuous treachery? No. 2.-THE BRITISH DRAMA what fatality still holds he your affections? Elv. Hold! thou trusty secretary! Val. Ignobly born, in mind and manners rude, ferocious, and unpolished, though cool and crafty if occasion need; in youth, audacious; in his first manhood, a licensed pirate, treating men as brutes, the world as booty; yet now the Spanish hero is he styled-the first of Spanish conquerors! and for a warrior so accomplished, 'tis fit Elvira should leave her noble family, her fame, her home, to share the dangers, humours, and the crimes of such a lover as Pizarro! |