Ros. You don't say so? Hodge. Ecod, I had like to have popped in among them this instant; but, by good luck, I heard Mrs. Deborah's voice, and run down again, as fast as ever my legs could carry me. Ros. Is your master in the house? Hodge. What, his worship! no, no, he is gone into the fields to talk with the reapers and people. Ros. Poor Lucinda, I wish I could go up to her, but I am so engaged with my own affairs Hodge. Mistress Rossetta. Ros. Well. Hodge. Odds bobs, I must have one smack of your sweet lips! Ros. Oh, stand off, you know I never allow liberties. Hodge. Hist, stay! don't I hear a noise? Luc. [Within.] Well, but dear, dear auntMrs. Deb. [Within.] You need not speak to me, for it does not signify. Hodge. Adwawns, they are coming here! ecod I'll get out of the way-Murrain take it, this door is bolted now-So, so. Enter MRS. DEBORAH WOODCOCK, driving in LUCINDA before her. Mrs. Deb. Get along, get along! you are a scandal to the name of Woodcock; but I was resolved to find you out, for I have suspected you a great while, though your father, silly man, will have you such a poor innocent. Luc. What shall I do? Mrs. Deb. I was determined to discover what you and your pretended music-master were about, and lay in wait on purpose. I believe he thought to escape me, by slipping into the closet when I knocked at the door; but I was even with him, for now I have him under lock and key, and, please the fates, there he shall remain tall your father comes in; I will convince him of his error, whether he will or not. Luc. You won't be so cruel, I am sure you won't. I thought I had made you my friend by telling you the truth. Mrs. Deb. Telling me the truth, quotha! did I not over-hear your scheme of running away tonight, through the partition? did not I find the very bundles packed up in the room with you, ready for going off? No, brazcaface, 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 you, Mr. Rascal, my brother shall know what an honest servant be has got. Hodge. Madam! Mrs. Deb. You were to have been aiding and assisting them in their escape, and have been the go-between, it seems, the letter-carier! Hodge. Who, me, madamı? Mrs. Deb. Yes, you, sirrah! Hodge. Miss Lucinda, did I ever carry a letter for you? I'll make my affidavy before his worship Mrs. Deb. 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 my self; but we are all subject to frailties; consider that, and judge of me by yourself; you were once young, and inexperienced as I am. AIR. If ever a fond inclination Rose in your bosom to rob you of rest, Reflect with a little compassion, On the soft pangs, which prevailed in my breast. Oh where, where would you fly me? Can you deny me, thus torn and distrest? Would I, how could I, refuse his request? Hard was the conflict 'twixt duty and love. Mrs. Deb. 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 glazed, and hung over the parlour chimney-piece, and your poor dear grandfather was prouder of it than of e'er a picture in his house. I never looked into a book, but when I said my prayers, except it was the Complete House-wife, 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 farther in this business, without your advice and approbation. Mrs. Deb. 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. jail for carrying a letter, seeing there was no treason in it; and how was I obligated 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 purchaseindeed, I should be sorry to leave Mrs. Rossetta, 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, for she led me a wearisome life -But that's the way of them all. [Exit. Hark! she comes! Hodge. Well, I thought it would come to this, I'll be shot if I didn't-So, here's a fine job-But Enter SIR WILLIAM MEADOWs and Hawthors. what can they do to me?—They can't send me to I Confusion! My father! What can this mean? Sir Wil. 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, part--Pray, sir, walk this way. Jy-What, sirrah, don't you think it worth your while to speak to me? 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 Young Mea. Forgive me, sir; I own I have been in fault. Sir Wil. In fault! to run away, from me because I was going to do you good-May I never do on ill turn, master Hawthorn, if I did not pick out as fine a girl for him, partly, as any in England! and the rascal ran away from me, and came here and turned 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's nursery. Haw. No, Sir William, I apprehend the young gentleman designed to lay by the profession; for he has quitted the habit already. Young Mea 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 to you directly. Pray, sir, how did you find me out? Sir Wil. 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 Mea. 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 Wil. Is not this mighty provoking, master Hawthorn? why, sirrah, did you ever see the lady I design'd for you. Young Mea. 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 Wil. 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 Mea. Have you brought the lady here, sir? I am sorry for it. Sir Wil. Why sorry? What then, you won't marry her? We'll see that! Pray, master Hawthorn, conduct the fair one in. 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 ROSSETTA. Haw. Here is the lady, Sir William. Sir W. Come in, madam, but turn your face Young Mea. 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! Young Mea. I was determined, sir, to have got the better of my inclination, and never have done a thing which I knew would be disagreeable to you. Sir W. And pray, sir, who are your affections engaged to? Let me know that. Young Mea. To a person, sir, whose rank and fortune may be no recommendations to her; but whose charms and accomplishments entitle her to a monarch. 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 pre sence. Sir W. Not I, not in the least: go about your business. Young Mea. Sir, I obey. Haw. Now, madam, is the time. [ROSSETTA advances, YOUNG MEADOWS turns round and sees her. AIR. Ros. When we see a lover languish, Sir Wil. Well, Tom, will you go away from me now? Haw. Perhaps, Sir William, your son does not like the lady; and if so, pray don't put a force upon his inclination. Young Mea. You need not have taken this method, sir, to let me see you are acquainted with my folly whatever my inclinations are. Sir Wil. Well, but, Tom, suppose I give my consent to your marrying this young woman! Young Mea. Your consent, sir? Ros. Come, Sir William, we have carried the jest far enough: 1 see your son is in a kind of embarrassment, and I don't wonder at it; but this letter which I received from him a few days before I left my father's house, will, I apprebend, expound the riddle. He cannot be surprised that I ran away from a gentleman who expressed so much dislike to me; and what has happened, since chance has brought us together in masquerade, there is no occasion for me to inform him of. Young Mea. What is all this? Pray don't make a jest of me! Sir Wil. May I never do an ill turn, Tom, if it is not truth! this is my friend's daughter. Young Mea. Sir ! Ros. Even so; 'tis very true, indeed. In short from him-he would not marry you, because he | 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 Mea. 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 Wil. Well, then, Tom, come into the air a bit, and recover yourself. Young Mea. Nay, dear sir, have a little patience; do you give her to me? Sir Wil. Give her to you! ay, that I do, and my blessing into the bargain. Young Mea. Then, sir, I am the happiest man in the world! I enquire no farther; here I fix the utmost limits of my hopes and happiness. Haw. Give you joy, sir; and you, fair lady-And, under favour, I'll salute you too, if there's no fear of jealousy. Young Mea. And may I believe this? Pr'ythee tell me, dear Rossetta! Ros. Step into the house, and I'll tell you every thing; I must intreat the good offices of Sir William and Mr. Hawthorn, unmediately; 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. Sir Wil. What, is there a lover in the case? May I never do an ill turn, but I'm glad, so I am for we'll make a double wedding; and, by way of celebrating it, take a trip to London, to shew the brides some of the pleasures of the town. And, master Hawthorn, you shall be of the party-Come, children, go before us. 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. Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK, MRS. DOBORAH WOODCOCK, LUCINDA, EUSTACE, and HODGE. Mrs. Deb. 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. J. Wood. Well, you hear what they say? Mrs. Deb. I care not what they say; it's you encourage them in their impudence Hark ye, bussy, 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. Eus. Seriously, madam, this is carrying the jest a little too far. Mrs. Deb. What, then, I did not catch you together in her chamber, nor overhear your design of going off to-night, nor find the bundles packed up Eus. Ha, ha, ha! Luc. Why, aunt, you rave! Mrs. Deb. Brother, as I am a Christian wo man, 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. O Lord! O Lord! Mrs. Deb. What, sirrah, would you brazen me too? Take that! [Boxes him. Hodge. I wish you would keep your hands to yourself! you strike me, because you have been telling his worship stories. J. Wood. Why, sister, you are tipsy! Mrs. Deb. I tipsy, brother! I-that never touch a drop of any thing strong from year's end to year's end; but now and then a little anniseed water, when I have got the colic. Luc. Well, aunt, you have been complaining of the stomach-ach all day; and may have taken too powerful a dose of your cordial. J. Wood. Come, cone, 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, ROSSETTA,and YOUNG MEADOWS. Young Mea. Bless me, sir! Look who is yonder! Sir Wil. Cocksbones, Jack! honest Jack, are you there? Eus. Plague on't, this rencounter is unluckySir William, your servant. Sir Wil. Your servant, again; and again, heartily your servant; may I never do an ill turn, but 1 am glad to meet you! J. Wood. Pray, Šir William, are you acquainted with this person? Sir Wil. 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. J. Wood. Well, but, Sir William, let me tell you, you know nothing of the matter. This man is a music-master; a thruminer of wire, and a scraper of cat-gut, and teaches my daughter to sing. Sir Wil. What, Jack Eustace a music-master! No, no; I know him better. Eus. '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 music-master, indeed. J. Wood. You are not? you own it, then? Eus. Nay more, sir; I am, as this lady has represented mc-[Pointing to MRS, DEB.]—your daughter's lover; whom, with her own consent, I did intend to have carried off this night; but now that Sir William Meadows is here, to tell you who, and what I am, I throw myself upon your generosity, from which I expect greater advantages than I could reap from any imposition on your unsuspicious nature. Mrs. Deb. Well, brother, what have you to say for yourself now? You have made a precious day's work of it! Had my advice been taken! Oh, I am ashamed of you! but you are a weak man, and it can't be helped; however, you should let wiser heads direct you. Luc. Dear papa, pardon me. Sir Wil. 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 can deny me nothing: love is a venial fault You know what I mean? Be reconciled to 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; Are then our vows so soon forgot? Mrs. Deb. Why, I'm sure he's a vagabond. J. Wood. I like him the better; I would have him a vagabond. Mrs. Deb. 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 Wil. May I never do an ill turn, but I say so too! J. Wood. Here, young fellow, take my daughter, and bless you both together; but hark you? no money till I die; observe that. Eus. Sir, in giving me your daughter, you be stow upon me more than the whole world would be without her. Ros. Dear Lucinda, if words could convey the transports of my heart upon this occasion Luc. Words are the tools of hypocrites, the pretenders to friendship; only let us resolve to preserve our esteem for each other. Young Mea. Dear Jack, I little thought we should ever meet in such odd circumstancesbut here has been the strangest business between this lady and me Hodge. What, then, Mrs. Rossetta, are you turned false-hearted, after all? will you marry Thomas the gardener? and did I forsake Madge |