power over her pride to have her own an intimacy under her hand. This was the luckiest accident! [Gathering up the Letter.] The aspersion, sir, was nothing but malice; the effect of a little quarrel between her and Mrs Sylvia.

Bal. Are you sure of that, sir?

Wor. Her maid gave me the history of part of the battle just now, as she overheard it: but I hope, sir, your daughter has suffered nothing upon the ac

count.

Bal. No, no, poor girl! she's so afflicted with the news of her brother's death, that, to avoid company, she begged leave to go into the country.

Wor. And is she gone ?

Bal. I could not refuse her, she was so pressing; the coach went from the door the minute before you

came.

Wor. So pressing to be gone, sir?—I find her fortune will give her the same airs with Melinda, and then Plume and I may laugh at one another.

Bal. Like enough; women are as subject to pride as men are; and why mayn't great women as well as great men forget their old acquaintance? But come,

where's this young fellow? I love him so well, it would break the heart of me to think him a rascal. -I am glad my daughter's gone fairly off though. [Aside.] Where does the captain quarter?

Wor. At Horton's; I am to meet him there two hours hence, and we should be glad of your company.

Bal. Your pardon, dear Worthy! I must allow a day or two to the death of my son. The decorum of mourning is what we owe the world, because they pay it to us; afterwards I'm yours over a bottle, or how you will.

Wor. Sir, I'm your

humble servant.

[Exeunt apart.

SCENE III.

The Street,

Enter KITE, with COSTAR PEARMAIN in one Hand, and THOMAS APPLETREE in the other, drunk.

KITE sings.

Our 'prentice Tom may now refuse
To wipe his scoundrel master's shoes,
For now he's free to sing and play
O'er the hills and far away.

Over, &c.

[The Mob sing the Chorus.

We shall lead more happy lives

By getting rid of brats and wives,

That scold and brawl both night and day,
Over the hills and far away.

Over, &c.

drink,

Kite. Hey, boys! thus we soldiers live sing, dance, play;—we live, as one should say we live 'tis impossible to tell how we live-we are all princes-why, why you are a king-you are an emperor, and I'm a prince-now, an't we?

Tho. No, serjeant, I'll be no emperor.

Kite. No!

Tho. I'll be a justice of peace.

Kite. A justice of peace, man!

Tho. Ay, wauns will I; for since this pressing act, they are greater than any emperor under the sun.

Kite. Done; you are a justice of

peace, and

you

are a king, and I am a duke, and'a rum duke, an't I?

Cost. I'll be a queen.

Kite. A queen!

Cost. Ay, of England, that's greater than any king of them all.

Kite. Bravely said, 'faith! huzza for the queen. [Huzza.] But harkye, you Mr Justice, and you Mr Queen, did you ever see the king's picture?

Both. No! no! no!

Kite. I wonder at that; I have two of them set in gold, and as like his majesty, God bless the mark! see here, they are set in gold.

[Takes two Broad Pieces out of his Pocket;

presents one to each.

Tho. The wonderful works of nature!

[Looking at it. What's this written about? here's a posy, I believe.Ca-ro-lus! What's that, serjeant?

Kite. O! Carolus ! why, Carolus is Latin for King George; that's all.

Cost. 'Tis a fine thing to be a scollard.-Serjeant, will you part with this? I'll buy it on you, if it come within the compass of a crown.

Kite. A crown! never talk of buying; 'tis the same thing among friends, you know; I'll present them to ye both: you shall give me as good a thing. Put them up, and remember your old friend when I am over the hills and far away.

[They Sing, and put up the Money.

Enter PLUME, singing.

Over the hills and over the main,
To Flanders, Portugal, or Spain;
The king commands and we'll obey,
Over the hills and far away.

Come on, my men of mirth, away with it; I'll make one among ye. Who are these hearty lads?

Kite. Off with your hats; 'ounds! off with your hats: this is the captain, the captain.

Tho. We have seen captains afore now, mun. Cost. Ay, and lieutenant-captains too. 'Sflesh! I'll keep on my nab.

Tho. And I'se scarcely d'off mine for any captain in England. My vether's a freeholder.

Plume. Who are those jolly lads, serjeant?

Kite. A couple of honest brave fellows that are willing to serve the king: I have entertained them just now as volunteers, under your honour's command.

Plume. And good entertainment they shall have: volunteers are the men I want; those are the men fit to make soldiers, captains, generals.

Cost. Wounds, Tummus, what's this! are you listed? Tho. Flesh! not I: are you, Costar?

Cost. Wounds! not I.

Kite. What! not listed? Ha! ha! ha! a very good jest, i'faith.

Cost. Come, Tummus, we'll go home.

Tho. Ay, ay, come.

Kite. Home! for shame, gentlemen; behave yourselves better before your captain. Dear Tummas, honest Costar!

Tho. No, no! we'll be gone.

Kite. Nay, then, I command you to stay: I place you both centinels in this place for two hours, to watch the motion of St Mary's clock you, and you the motion of St Chad's; and he that dares stir from his post till he be relieved, shall have my sword in his guts the next minute.

Plume. What's the matter, serjeant? I'm afraid you are too rough with these gentlemen.

Kite. I'm too mild, sir; they disobey command,

sir; and one of them should be shot, for an example to the other.

Cost. Shot! Tummas?

Plume. Come, gentlemen, what's the matter?

Tho. We don't know; the noble serjeant is pleas'd to be in a passion, sir; but

Kite. They disobey command; they deny their being listed.

Tho. Nay, serjeant, we don't downright deny it, neither; that we dare not do, for fear of being shot; but we humbly conceive, in a civil way, and begging your worship's pardon, that we may go home.

Plume. That's easily known. Have either of you received any of the king's money?

Cost. Not a brass farthing, sir.

Kite. They have each of them received one-andtwenty shillings, and 'tis now in their pockets.

Cost. Wounds! if I have a penny in my pocket but a bent sixpence, I'll be content to be listed and shot into the bargain.

Tho. And I look ye here, sir:

Cost. Nothing but the king's picture, that the serjeant gave me just now.

Kite. See there, a guinea, one-and-twenty shillings; t'other has the fellow on't.

Plume. The case is plain, gentlemen: the goods are found upon you; those pieces of gold are worth oneand-twenty shillings each.

Cost. So it seems that Carolus is one-and-twenty shillings in Latin.

Tho. "Tis the same thing in Greek, for we are listed.

Cost. Flesh, but we an't, Tummus: I desire to be carried before the mayor, captain.

[CAPTAIN and SERJEANT whisper the while. Plume. Twill never do, Kite-your damned tricks will ruin me at last-I won't lose the fellows, though,