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Jus. W. Ay, where are you running so fast? Ros. I was only going into the house, sir. Jus. W. Well, but come here; come here, I say. [Looking about] How do you do, Rosetta?
Ros. Thank you, sir, pretty well.
Jus. W. Why you look as fresh and bloomy to-day-Adad, you little slut, I believe you are painted.
Ros. O sir! you are pleased to compliment. Jus. W. Adad, I believe you are --let me tryRos. Lord, sir!
Ros. Won't you, sir?
Ros. But won't you indeed, sir?
Jus. W. Hussy, hussy!
Ros. Ila, ha, ha!-Your servant, sir, your servant. [Exit. Jus. W. Why, you impudent, audaciousEnter HAWTHORN.
Haw. So, so, justice at odds with gravity!
Jus. W. Ha! friend Hawthorn!
Huw. I hope I don't spoil sport, neighbour: thought I had the glimpse of a petticoat as came in here.
Jus. W. What brings you into this garden his worship playing at romps!-Your servant, so often, Rosetta? I hope you don't get eating sir. green fruit and trash; or have you a bankering after some lover in dowlass, who spoils my trees by engraving truelovers'-knots on them, with your horn- and buck-handled knives? see your name written upon the ceiling of the servants'-hall, with the smoke of a candle; and I suspect
Jus. W. Oh! the maid. Ay, she has been gathering a sallad-But come hither, master Hawthorn, and I'll show you some alterations Ros. Not me, I hope, sir-No, sir, I am of I intend to make in my garden. another guess mind, I assure you; for I have Haw. No, no, I am no judge of it; besides, heard say, men are false and fickleI want to talk to you a little more about this
Jus. W. Ay, that's your flaunting, idle, -Tell me, sir Justice, were you helping your young fellows; so they are: and they are so maid to gather a sallad here, or consulting damn'd impudent, I wonder a woman will her taste in your improvements, eh? Ha, ha, have any thing to say to them; besides, all ha! Let me see, all among the roses; 'egad, Í that they want is something to brag of, and like your notion: but you look a little blank tell again. upon it: you are ashamed of the business then, are you?
Ros. Why I own, sir, if ever I was to make a slip, it should be with an elderly gentleman -about seventy, or seventy-five years of age. Jus. W. No, child, that's out of reason; though I have known many a man turned of threescore with a hale constitution.
Ros. Then, sir, he should be troubled with the gout, have a good, strong, substantial, winter cough-and I should not like him the worse-if he had a small touch of the rheumatism.
Jus. W. Pho, pho, Rosetta, this is jesting. Ros. No, sir; every body has a taste, and I have mine.
Jus. W. Well but, Rosetta, have you thought of what I was saying to you?
Ros. What was it, sir?
Jus. W. Ah, you know, you know well enough, hussy.
Ros. Dear sir, consider what has a poor servant to depend on but her character? And I have beard you gentlemen will talk one thing before, and another after.
Jus. W. I tell you again, these are the idle, flashy, young dogs: but when you have to do with a staid, sober man
Ros. And a magistrate, sir?
Jus. W. Right; it's quite a different thing -Well, shall we, Rosetta, shall we? Ros. Really, sir, I don't know what to say
Young I am, and sore afraid:
Men too often we believe;
And, should you my faith deceive,
Sure my tender heart would break. Jus. W. Why, you silly girl, I won't do you any harm.
Oons! neighbour, ne'er blush for a trifle like this;
What harm with a fair one to toy and to kiss?
The greatest and gravest-a truce with gri
Would do the same thing, were they in the same place.
No age, no profession, no station is free; To sovereign beauty mankind bends the knee: That power, resistless, no strength can oppose, We all love a pretty girl-under the rose. Jus. W. I profess, master Hawthorn, this is all Indian, all Cherokee language to me; I don't understand a word of it.
Haw. No, may be not: well, sir, will you read this letter, and try whether you can understand that? it is just brought by a servant, who stays for an answer.
Jus. W. A letter, and to me? [Taking the Letter] Yes, it is to me; and yet I am sure it comes from no correspondent that I know of. Where are my spectacles? not but I can see very well without them, master Hawthorn; but this seems to be a sort of a crabbed hand. [Reads.
Sir, I am ashamed of giving you this trouble; but I am informed there is an unthinking boy, a son of mine, now disguised and in your service, in the capacity of a gardener:-Tom is a little wild, but an honest lad, and no fool either, though I am his father that say it. Tom-oh, this is Thomas, our gardener; I always thought that he was a better man's child than he ap→ peared to be, though I never mentioned it.
Haw. Well, well, sir, pray let's hear the rest of the letter.
Jus. W. Stay, where is the place? Oh, here: the manners to knock at the door first-What --I am come in quest of my runaway, and does the wench stand for?
write this at an inn in your village, while Madge. I want to know if his worship's at I am swallowing a morsel of dinner: be- home?
cause, not having the pleasure of your Hodge. Well, what's your business with acquaintance, I did not care to intrude, his worship?
without giving you notice. Whoever this Madge. Perhaps you will hear that-Lookye, person is, he understands good manners. I Hodge, it does not signify talking, I am come, beg leave to wait on you, sir; but desire once for all, to know what you intends to do; you would keep my arrival a secret, par- for I won't be made a fool of any longer. ticularly from the young man. Hodge. You won't?
WILLIAM MEADOWS. I'll assure you, a very well worded, civil letter. Do you know any thing of the person who writes it, neighbour?
Haw. Let me consider-Meadows-by dad, I belive it is sir William Meadows of Northamptonshire; and, now I remember, I heard some time ago that the heir of that family had absconded, on account of a marriage that was disagreeable to him. It is a good many years since I have seen sir William, but we were once well acquainted: and, if you please, sir, I will go and conduct him to the house. Jus. W. Do so, master Hawthorn, do soBut what sort of a man is this sir William Meadows? Is he a wise man?
Haw. There is no occasion for a man that has five thousand pounds a year, to be a conjurer; but I suppose you ask that question because of this story about his son; taking it for granted, that wise parents make wise children.
Jus. W. No doubt of it, master Hawthorn, no doubt of it-I warrant we shall find now, that this young rascal has fallen in love with some mynx, against his father's consent-Why, sir, if I had as many children as king Priam had, that we read of at school, in the destruction of Troy, not one of them should serve
Haw. Well, well, neighbour, perhaps not; but we should remember when we were young ourselves; and I was as likely to play an old don such a trick in my day, as e'er a spark in the hundred; nay, between you and me, I had done it once, had the wench been as willing as I.
My Dolly was the fairest thing!
Her breath disclos'd the sweets of spring;
I found her heart was winter cold.
Madge. No, that's what I won't, by the best man that ever wore a head; I am the makegame of the whole village upon your account; and I'll try whether your master gives you toleration in your doings.
Hodge. You will?
Madge. Yes, that's what I will, his worship shall be acquainted with all your pranks, and see how you will like to be sent for a soldier. Hodge. There's the door; take a friend's advice, and go about your business. Madge. My business is with his worship; and I won't go till I sees him.
Hodge. Look you, Madge, if you make any of your orations here, never stir if I don't set the dogs at you-Will you be gone? Madge. I won't.
Hodge. Here, Towzer, [Whistling] whu, whu, whu.
Hodge. Nothing, Mrs. Rosetta, only this young woman wants to speak with his worJus. W. Ah, you were always a scape-grace ship-Madge, follow me. rattle-eap. Madge. No, Hodge, this is your fine madam: Haw. Odds heart, neighbour Woodcock, but I am as good flesh and blood as she, and don't tell me, young fellows will be young have as clear a skin too, tho'f I mayn't go so fellows, though we preach till we're hoarse gay; and now she's here, I'll tell her a piece again; and so there's an end on't. [Exeunt. of my mind.
SCENE III.-JUSTICE WOODCOCK's Hall.
Enter HODGE and MADGE. Hodge: So, mistress, who let you in? Madge. Why, I let myself in. Hodge. Indeed! Marry come up! why then pray let yourself out again. Times are come to a pretty pass; I think you might have had
Hodge. Hold your tongue, will you? Madge. No, I'll speak if I die for it Ros. What's the matter, I say? Hodge. Why nothing, I tell you;-Madge Madge. Yes, but it is something; it's all along of she, and she may be ashamed of herself.
Ros. Bless me, child, do you direct your discourse to me?
Madge. Yes, I do, and to nobody else; there was not a kinder soul breathing than he was till of late; I had never a cross word from him till he kept you company; but all the girls about say, there is no such thing as keeping a sweetheart for you.
Ros. Do you hear this, friend Hodge?
Hodge. Why, you don't mind she, I hope; but if that vexes her, 1 do like you, I do; my mind runs upon nothing else; and if so be as you was agreeable to it, I would marry you to-night, before to-morrow.
Madge. You're a nasty monkey; you are parjur'd, you know you are, and you deserve to have your eyes tore out.
Hodge. Let me come at her-I'll teach you to call names, and abuse folk.
Madge. Do; strike me;-you a man! Ros. Hold, hold—we shall have a battle here presently, and I may chance to get my cap tore off-Never exasperate a jealous woman, 'tis taking a mad bull by the horns-Leave me to manage her.
SCENE IV.-4 Chamber. Enter ROSETTA and LUCINDA. Ros. Ha! ha! ha! Oh admirable, most delectably ridiculous. And so your father is content he should be a music-master, and will have him such, in spite of all your aunt can say to the contrary?
Luc. My father and be, child, are the best companions you ever saw and have been singing together the most hideous duets! Bobbing Juan, and Old Sir Simon the King: heaven knows were Eustace could pick them up: but he has gone through half the contents of Pills
Hodge. You manage her! I'll kick her. Ros. No, no, it will be more for my credit, to get the better of her by fair means-I war-to purge Melancholy with him. rant I'll bring her to reason.
Ros. And have you resolved to take wing
Hodge. Well, do so then-But may I de- to-night? pend upon you? when shall I speak to the parson?
Ros. Then depend upon it, I'll bear you company.
Luc. We shall slip out when the family are
Luc. This very night, my dear: my swain will go from hence this evening, but no furRos. We'll talk of that another time-Go. ther than the inn, where he has left his horHodge. Madge, good bye. [Exit. ses; and, at twelve precisely, he will be with Ros. The brutality of this fellow shocks me! a post-chaise at the little gate that opens from -Oh men, men-you are all alike—A bumkin the lawn into the road, where I have promised here, bred at the barn door; had he been to meet him. brought up in a court, could he have been more fashionably vicious! show me the lord, squire, colonel, or captain of them all, can outdo him! [the place any longer. Madge. I am ready to burst, I can't stay in Ros. Hold, child, come hither. Madge. Don't speak to me, don't you. Ros. Well, but I have something to say to you of consequence, and that will be for good; I suppose this fellow promised you marriage. [vail'd upon me. Madge. Ay, or he never should have preRos. Well, now you see the ill consequence of trusting to such promises: when once a man hath cheated a woman of her virtue, she has no longer hold of him; he despises her for wanting that which he hath robb'd her of; and, like a lawless conqueror, triumphs in the ruin he hath occasioned.
Ros. However, I hope the experience you have got, though somewhat dearly purchased,|
In love should there meet a fond pair,
On this side the stars can be found,
Ros. Mr. Hawthorn, your servant. Haw. What my little water-wagtail!-The will be of use to you for the future; and, as very couple I wish'd to meet: come hither to any designs I have upon the heart of your both of you. lover, you may make yourself easy, for I
Ros. Now, sir, what would you say to both
sure you I shall be no dangerous rival; so go of us? your ways and be a good girl.
[Exit. Haw. Why, let me look at you a littleMadge. Yes-I don't very well understand have you got on your best gowns, and your her talk, but I suppose that's as much as to best faces? If not, go and trick yourselves out say she'll keep him all to herself; well, let her, directly, for I'll tell you a secret-there will who cares? I don't fear getting better nor he be a young bachelor in the house, within these is any day of the year, for the matter of that: three hours, that may fall to the share of one and I have a thought come into my head, that, of you, if you look sharp-but whether mimay be, will be more to my advantage.
stress or maid
Ros. Ay, marry, this is something; but how do you know whether either mistress or maid will think him worth acceptance ?*
Haw. Follow me, follow me; I warrant you. matters stood, I was quite astonished, as a Luc. I can assure you, Mr, Hawthorn, I am body may say; and could not believe it partly; very difficult to please.
Ros. And so am I, sir.
Well come, let us hear what the swain must possess,
Who may hope at your feet to implore with
Ros. He must be first of all
Straight, comely, and tall:
Luc. Neither awkward,
Luc. Nor apish,
Ros. Nor mulish;
till her young friend that she is with here, assured me of the truth on't:-Indeed, at last, I began to recollect her face, though I have not set eyes on her before, since she was the height of a full grown greyhound.
Haw. Well, sir William, your son as yet knows nothing of what has happened, nor of your being come hither; and, if you'll follow my counsel, we'll have some sport with him.
He and his mistress were to meet in the garden this evening by appointment, she's gone to dress herself in all her airs; will you let me direct your proceedings in this affair? Sir W. With all my heart, master Hawthorn, with all my heart; do what you will
Nor yet should his fortune be small. with me, say what you please for me; I am
so overjoyed, and so happy-And may I never do an ill turn1) but I am very glad to see you too; ay, and partly as much pleased at that as any thing esse, for we have been merry together before now, when we were some years younger: well, and how has the world gone with you, master Hawthorn, since we saw one another last?
Haw. Why, pretty well, sir William, 1 have no reason to complain; every one has a mixture of sour with his sweets: but, in the main, I believe, I have done in a degree as tolerably as my neighbours,
The world is a well-furnish'd table,
Where guests are promisc'ously set; We all fare as well as we are able, And scramble for what we can get. My simile holds to a tittle,
Some gorge, while some scarce have a
But if I'm content with a little,
Sir W. Well, this is excellent, this is mighty good, this is mighty merry, faith; ha! ha! ha! was ever the like heard of? that my boy, Tom, Ros. Sir William, I beg pardon for detainshould run away from me, for fear of being ing you, but I have had so much difficulty in forced to marry a girl he never saw; that she adjusting my borrowed plumes.— should scamper from her father, for fear of Sir W. May I never do an ill turn, but being forced to marry him; and that they they fit you to a T, and you look very well, should run into one another's arms this way so you do: Cocksbones, how your father will in disguise, by mere accident; against their chuckle when he comes to hear this!—Her faconsents, and without knowing it, as a body ther, master Hawthorn, is as worthy a man may say? May I never do an ill turn, master as lives by bread, and has been almost out of Hawthorn, if it is not one of the oddest ad- his senses for the loss of her- But tell me, ventures partlyhussy, has not this been all a scheme, a piece How. Why, sir William, it is a romance, of conjuration between you and my son? Faith, a novel, a pleasanter history by half than the I am half persuaded it has, it looks so like loves of Dorastus and Faunia: we shall have hocus-pocus, as a body may say. ballads made of it within these two months, Ros. Upon my honour, sir William,, what setting forth how a young squire became a has happened has been the mere effect of serving-man of low degree; and it will be chance; I came hither unknown to your son, stuck up with Margaret's Ghost, and the Spa- and he unknown to me: I never in the least nish Lady, against the walls of every cottage suspected that Thomas the gardener was other in the country. than his appearance spoke him; and least of Sir W. But what pleases me best of all, all, that he was a person with whom I had master Hawthorn, is the ingenuity of the girl. so close a connexion. Mr. Hawthorn can testify May I never do an ill turn, when I was called the astonishment I was in when he first inout of the room, and the servant said she formed me of it; but I thought it was my wanted to speak to me, if I knew what to duty to come to an immediate explanation make on't: but when the little gipsy1) took with you.
me aside, and told me her name, and how Sir W. Is not she a neat wench, master 1) Little gipsy. little rogne, liule baggage, and a thouHawthorn? May I never do an ill turn, but sand other littles, are merely terms of endearment. 1) Sir William means, may I never do a good turn,
she is-But you little, plaguy devil, how came become of Lucinda? Sir William waits for this love affair between you? me, I must be gone. Friendship, a moment Ros. I have told you the whole truth very by your leave; yet as our sufferings have ingenuously, sic: since your son and I have been mutual, so shall our joys; I already lose been fellow servants, as I may call it, in this the remembrance of all former pains and anhouse, I have had more than reason to suspect xieties. he has taken a liking to me; and I will own, with equal frankness, had I not looked upon him as a person so much below me, I should have had no objection to receive his courtship. Haw. Well said, by the lord Harry, all above board, fair and open.
Ros. Perhaps I may be censured by some for this candid declaration; but I love to speak my sentiments; and I assure you, sir William, in my opinion, I should prefer a gardener with your son's good qualities, to a knight of the shire without them.
Haw. Well but, sir, we lose time is not this about the hour appointed to meet in the garden?
Ros. Pretty near it.
The traveller benighted,
And led through weary ways,
The rising prospects viewing,
[Exit. Hodge. Hist, stay! don't I hear a noise? Luc. [Without] Well, but dear, dear auntMrs. D. [Without] You need not speak to me, for it does not signify.
Hodge. Adwawns, they are coming here! Haw. Oons then, what do we stay for? ecod, I'll get out of the way-Murrain take it, Come, my old friend, come along; and by the this door is bolted now-So, so. way we will consult how to manage your
Sir W. Ay, but I must speak a word or two to my man about the horses first. [Exeunt Sir W. and Haw. Enter HODGE.
Ros. Well-What's the business?
Ros. Why, Hodge, don't you know me?
Enter MRS. DEBORAH WOODCOCK, driving in LUCINDA before her.
Mrs. D. 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. D. 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 Hodge. Know you! ecod, I don't know closet when I knocked at the door; but I was whether I do or not: never stir, if I did not even with him; for now I have him under think it was some lady belonging to the strange lock and key; and please the fates, there he gentlefolks: why, you ben't dizen'd this way shall remain till your father comes in: I will to go to the statute dance presently, be you? convince him of his error, whether he will or Ros, Have patience and you'll see:-but is not. there any thing amiss that you came in so abruptly?
Hodge. Amiss! why there's ruination.
Hodge. Why, with miss Lucinda: her aunt has catch'd she and the gentleman above stairs, and overheard all their love discourse.
Ros. You don't say so!
Hodge. Ecod, I had like to have pop'd 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 af
Hodge, Mistress Rosetta!
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. 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, brazenface, 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 he has got.
Mrs. D. You were to have been aiding and assisting them in their escape, and have been the go-between, it seems, the letter-carrier! Hodge. Who, me, madam! Mrs. D. Yes, you, sirrah,
Hodge, Miss Lucinda, did I ever carry a letter for you? I'll make my affidavy 1) before
Hodge. Odds hobs, I must have one smack his worshipof your sweet lips.
Mrs. D. Go, go, you are a villain, hold your
Ros. Oh, stand off; you know I never al-tongue. low liberties.
Luc. I own, aunt, I have been very faulty Hodge. Nay, but why so coy? there's rea- in this affair; I don't pretend to excuse myson in roasting of eggs; I would not deny self; but we are all subject to frailties; conyou such a thing.
Ros, That's kind: ha, ha, ha-But what will! 1) Affidavit.