ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

Sir Harry. Well, but stay, my lady-Dossy, you are always making mischief.

Theod. Ah! my dear, sweet

Lady S. Do, miss; that's right, coax

Theod. No, madam, I am not capable of any such

meanness.

Lady S. Tis very civil of you to contradict me, however!

Sir Harry. Eh! what's that?-Hands off, Dossy; don't come near me,

AIR.

Why, how now, miss pert,
Do you think to divert

My anger, by fawning and stroking?
Would you make me a fool,
Your plaything, your tool?

[ocr errors]

Was ever young minx sa provoking?
Get out of my sight,

'Twould be serving you right,

To lay a sound dose of the lash on.

Contradict your mamma!

I've a mind, by the la!

But I won't put myself in a passion.

[Exit THEODOSIA,

Enter LORD AIMWORTH and GILES,

there

Lord A. Come, Farmer; you may come in; are none here but friends. Sir Harry, your servant. Sir Harry. My lord, I kiss your lordship's hands. -I hope he did not overhear us squabbling.

Lord A. Well, now, Master Giles, what is it you have got to say to me? If I can do you any service, this company will give you leave to speak.

Giles. I thank your lordship; I has not a great deal to say; I do come to your lordship about a little business, if you'll please to give me the hearing,

Lord A. Certainly, only let me know what it is. Giles. Why, an' please you, my lord, being left alone, as I may say, feyther dead, and all the business upon my own hands, I do think of settling, and taking a wife, and am come to ax your honour's con

sent.

Lord A. My consent, Farmer! if that be necessary, you have it with all my heart. I hope you have taken care to make a prudent choice.

Giles. Why, I do hope so, my lord.

Lord A. Well, and who is the happy fair one? Does she live in my house?

Giles. No, my lord, she does not live in your house, but she's a parson of your acquaintance. Lord A. Of my acquaintance!

Giles. No offence, I hope, your honour?

Lord A. None in the least: but how is she an acquaintance of mine?

Giles. Your lordship do know Miller Fairfield?
Lord A. Well-

Giles. And Patty Fairfield, his daughter, my lord ?
Lord A. Ay, is it her you think of marrying?

Giles. Why, if so be as your lordship has no objection; to be sure, we will do nothing without your consent and approbation.

*Lord A. Upon my word, Farmer, you have made an excellent choice. It is a god-daughter of my mother's, madam, who was bred up under her care, and I protest I do not know a more amiable young -But are you sure, Farmer, that Patty herself is inclinable to this match?

woman.

Giles. O yes, my lord, I am sartain of that. Lord A. Perhaps, then, she desired you to come and ask my consent?

Giles. Why, as far as this here, my lord; to be sure, the miller did not care to publish the banns, without making your lordship acquainted-But I hope your honour's not angry with I.

Lord A. Angry, Farmer! why should you think so?-what interest have I in it to be angry?

Sir Harry. And so, honest Farmer, you are going to be married to little Patty Fairfield? She's an old acquaintance of mine. How long have you and she been sweethearts?

Giles. Not a long while, an' please your worship.

Sir Harry. Well, her father's a good warm fellow ? I suppose you take care that she brings something to make the pot boil?

Lady S. What does that concern you, Sir Harry? how often must I tell you of meddling in other peo, ple's affairs?

Sir Harry. My lord, a penny for your thoughts. Lord A. I beg your pardon, Sir Harry; upon my word, I did not think where I was.

Giles. Well, then, your honour, I'll make bold to be taking my leave; I may say, you gave consent for Miss Patty and I to go on.

Lord A. Undoubtedly, Farmer, if she approves of it but are you not afraid that her education has rendered her a little unsuitable for a wife for you? Lady S. Oh, my lord, if the girl's handy

Sir Harry. Oh, ay-when a girl's handy

Giles. Handy! Why, saving respect, there's nothing comes amiss to her; she's cute at every varsal kind of thing.

AIR.

Odd's my life, search England over,
An' you match her in her station,
I'll be bound to fly the nation:
And, be sure, as well I love her.

Do but feel my heart a beating,
Still her pretty name repeating,

Her's the work 'tis always at.
Pitty, patty, pat, pit, pat.

When she makes the music tinkle,
What on earth can sweeter be?
Then her little eyes so twinkle,
'Tis a feast to hear and see.

[Exit.

Sir Harry. By dad, this is a good merry fellow, is not he in love, with his pitty patty? -And so, my lord, you have given your consent that he shall marry your mother's old housekeeper. Ah, well, I can

see

Lord A. Nobody doubts, Sir Harry, that you are very clear-sighted.

Sir Harry. Yes, yes, let me alone; I know what's what I was a young fellow once myself; and I should have been glad of a tenant, to take a pretty girl off my hands now and then, as well as another. Lord A. I protest, my dear friend, I don't understand you.

Lady S. Nor nobody else-Sir Harry, you are going at some beastliness now.

Sir Harry. Who I, my lady? Not I, as I hope to live and breathe; 'tis nothing to us, you know, what my lord does before he's married: when I was a bachelor, I was a devil among the wenches myself; and yet, I vow to George, my lord, since I knew my Lady Sycamore, and we shall be man and wife eighteen years, if we live till next Candlemas-day, I never had to do

Lady S. Sir Harry, come out of the room, I desire.

Sir Harry. Why, what's the matter, my lady? I did not say any harm.

Lady S. I see what you are driving at; you want

to make me faint.

Sir Harry. I want to make you faint, my lady! Lady S. Yes, you do-and if you don't come out this instant, I shall fall down in the chamber-I beg, my lord, you won't speak to him.-Will you come out, Sir Harry?

Sir Harry. Nay, but my lady!
Lady S. No, I will have

you out.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Outside of the Mill.

Enter RALPH, with MERVIN, in a Riding Dress, followed by FANNY.

Fanny. Ah, pray your honour, try if you have not something to spare for poor Fanny, the gipsy.

Ralph. I tell you, Fan, the gentleman has no change about him; why the plague will you be so troublesome?

Fanny. Lord, what is it to you, if his honour has a mind to give me a trifle? Do, pray, gentleman, put your hand in your pocket.

Mervin. I am almost distracted! Ungrateful Theodosia, to change so suddenly, and write me such a letter! However, I am resolved to have my dismission face to face. This letter may be forced from her by her mother, who, I know, was never cordially my friend: I could not get a sight of her in London, but here they will be less on their guard; and see her I will, by one means or other.

Fanny. Then your honour will not extend your charity?

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »