-But suppose you did like him, how could | flowers.] Now or never is the time to conquer you help yourself? AIR. When once Love's subtle poison gains SCENE II.—Another part of the Garden, Enter YOUNG MEADOWS. pro my Young Mea. Let me see-on the fifteenth of June, at half an hour past five in the morning, [Taking out a pocket book.] I left my father's house, unknown to any one, having made free with a coat and jacket of our gardener's, which fitted me, by way of a disguise; so says my pocket-book; and chance directing me to this village, on the twentieth of the same month I cured a recommendation to the worshipful Justice Woodcock, to be the superintendant of his pumpkins and cabbages, because I would let father see, I chose to run any lengths, rather than submit to what his obstinacy would have forced ine, a marriage against my inclination, with a woman I never saw. [Puts up the book, and takes up a watering-pot.] Here I have been three weeks, and in that time I am as much altered, as if I had changed my nature with my habit. 'Sdeath to fall in love with a chambermaid! And yet, if I could forget that I am the son and heir of Sir William Meadows-But that's impossible. AIR. O! had I been by fate decreed Which now I ne'er must know! Ha! who was it I had a glimpse of as I past by that arbour! Was it not she sat reading there! the trembling of my heart tells me my eyes were not mistaken-Here she comes. Enter ROSSETTA. Ros. Lucinda was certainly in the right of it, and yet I blush to own my weakness even to myself Marry, hang the fellow for not being a gentleman! Young Mea. I am determined I won't speak to her [Turning to a rose-tree, and plucking the | myself: besides, I have some reason to believe the girl has no aversion to me: and, as I wish not to do her an injury, it would be cruel to fill her head with notions of what can never happen. [Hums a tune.] Pshaw! rot these roses, how they prick one's fingers! Ros. He takes no notice of me; but so much the better; I'll be as indifferent as he is. I am sure the poor lad likes me; and if I was to give him any encouragement, I suppose the next thing asked in church-Oh, dear pride! I thank you he talked of would be buying a ring, and being for that thought. Young Mea. Hah, going without a word, a look!-I can't bear that-Mrs. Rossetta, I am gathering a few roses here, if you please to take them in with you. Ros. Thank you, Mr. Thomas, but all my lady's flower pots are full. Young Mea. Will you accept of them for yourself, then? [Catching hold of her.] What's the matter? you look as if you were angry with Young Mea. This girl is a riddle !-That she loves me, I think there is no room to doubt; she takes a thousand opportunities to let me see it: and yet, when I speak to her, she will hardly give me an answer; and, if I attempt the smallest familiarity, is gone in an iustant-I feel my passion for her grow every day more and more violent-Well, would I marry her?-would I make a mistress of her if I could?-Two things, called prudence and honour, forbid either. What am I pursuing, then? A shadow. Sure my evil genius laid this snare in my way. However, there is one comfort, it is in my power to fly from it; if so, why do I hesitate? I am distracted, unable to determine any thing. E SCENE III.-A hall in JUSTICE WOODCOCK'S house. Enter HAWTHORN, with a fowling-piece in his hands, and a net with birds at his girdle: and, afterwards, JUSTICE WOODCOCK. AIR. There was a jolly miller once, Lived on the river Dee; He worked and sung, from morn till night; For ever used to be I care for nobody, no, not I, House, here, house! what, all gadding, all For exercise, air, To the fields I repair, No stings leave behind, But health and diversion unite. Enter HODGE. Hodge. Did your worship call, sir. J. Wood. Call, sir! where have you and the rest of these rascals been? but I suppose, I need not ask-You must know there is a statute, a fair for hiring servants, held upon my green to-day; we have it usually at this season of the year, and it never fails to put all the folks here-about out of their senses. Hodge. Lord, your honour, look out and see what a nice show they make yonder; they had came along, for dear life-I never saw such a got pipers, and fidlers, and were dancing as I mortal throng in our village in all my born days again. J. Wood. Here's a noise, here's a racket! William, Robert, Hodge! why does not somebody answer? Odd's my life, I believe the fellows have lost their hearing! [Entering.] Oh, master Hawthorn! I guessed it was some such mad-cap-be. Are you there? Haw. Am I here? Yes: and, if you had been where I was three hours ago, you would find the good effects of it by this time: but you have got the lazy, unwholesome, London fashion, of lying a bed in a morning, and there's gout for you Why, sir, I have not been in bed five minutes after sun-rise these thirty years, am generally up before it; and I never took a dose of physic but once in my life, and that was in compliment to a cousin of mine, an apothecary, that had just set up business. J. Wood. Well, but, master Hawthorn, let me tell you, you know nothing of the matter; for, I say, sleep is necessary for a man; ay, and I'll maintain it. Haw. What! when I maintain the contrary? ---Look you, neighbour Woodcock, you are a rich man, a man of worship, a justice of peace, and all that; but learn to know the respect that is due to the sound from the infirm; and allow that superiority a good constitution gives me over you-Health is the greatest of all possessions; and 'tis a maxim with me, that an hale cobler is a better man than a sick king. me J. Wood. Well, well, you are a sportsman. Let gay ones and great From pleasure they run: I envy them not, While I have my dog and my gun, Haw. Why, I like this now; this is as it should J. Wood. No, no, 'tis a very foolish piece of business; good for nothing but to promote idlemeasures for preventing it another year, and I ness and the getting of bastards: but I shall take doubt whether I am not sufficiently authorised already; for, by an act passed Anno undecimo Caroli primi, which impowers a justice of peace, who is lord of the manor Haw. Come, come, never mind the act; let meeting; I want a servant or two myself, I must me tell you, this is a very proper, a very useful go see what your market affords;—and you shall go, and the girls, my little. Lucy and the other young rogue, and we'll make a day on't as well as the rest. J. Wood. I wish, master Hawthorn, I could teach you to be a little more sedate: why won't you take pattern by me, and consider your dig nity?—Odds heart, I don't wonder you are not a rich man; you laugh too much ever to be rich. Haw. Right, neighbour Woodcock! health, good-humour, and competence, is my motto: and, if my executors have a mind, they are welcome to make it my epitaph. SCENE IV. LUCINDA, HODGE. Luc. Hist, hist, Hodge! Luc. Well, have you been? Hodge. Been? ay, I ha' been far enough, an' that be all you never knew any thing fall out so crossly in your born days. Luc. Why, what's the matter? Hodge. Why, you know I dare not take a horse out of his worship's stables this morning, for fear it should be missed, and breed questions; and our old nag at home was so cruelly beat i'th' hoofs, that, poor beast, it had not a foot to set to ground; so I was fain to go to farmer Ploughshare's, at the Grange, to borrow the loan of his bald filly: and, would you think it? after walking all that way-de'el from me, if the crossgrained toad did not deny me the favour. Luc. Unlucky! : Hodge. Well, then, I went my ways to the King's Head in the village, but all their cattle were at plough and I was as far to seek below at the turnpike: so at last, for want of a better, I was forced to take up with dame Quicksett's blind mare. Luc. Oh, then you have been? Luc. Psha! Why did not you say so at once? Hodge. Aye, but I have had a main tiresome jaunt on't, for she is a sorry jade at best. Luc. Well, well, did you see Mr. Eustace, and what did he say to you?-Come, quick-have you e'er a letter? Hodge. Yes, he gave me a letter, if I ha'na' lost it. Lue. So! give it me. [Reads the letter to herself. Hodge. Lord-a-mercy! how my arm achs with beating that plaguy beast; I'll be hanged if I won'na rather ha' thrashed half a day, than ha’ ridden her. Luc. Well, Hodge, you have done your business very well. Hodge. Well, have not I, now? Luc. Yes-Mr. Eustace tells me, in this letter, that he will be in the green lane, at the other end of the village, by twelve o'clock-You know where he came before? Enter HODGE, followed by MARGERY; and, some time after, enter YOUNG MEADOWS. Hodge. What does the wench follow me for? Odds flesh, folk may well talk to see you danging after me every where, like a tantony pig: find some other road, can't you! and don't keep wherreting me with your nonsense. Mar. Nay, pray you, Hodge, stay, and let we speak to you a bit! Hodge. Well; what sayn you? 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. you 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 may keep company with young madam's waiting woman; and I am sure she's no fit body for 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. [Secing 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 questions 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. Coun. His worship! J. Wood. Fic, fie, what a crowd's this! Odd, I'll put some of them in the stocks. [Striking a fellow.] Stand out of the way, sirrah! Haw. For shame, neighbour! Well, my lad, are you willing to serve the king? Coun. Why, can you list ma! Serve the king, master! no, no! I pay the king, that's enough for me. Ho, ho, ho! 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 bussies 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.] Do you come to look for a service? C. Girl. Yes; an't please you. Haw. Well, and what place are you for? Y 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. Servant-man. Come, good people, make a ring, and stand out, fellow servants, as many of you as are willing, and able to hear a bob.We'll let my masters and mistresses see we can 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 reasonable lover can expect from his mistress. Eus. Yes, but, you dear, provoking angel, you have not told me when you will run away with nie. 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. |