Mel. My name in my own hand-writing! that would be convincing indeed. Kite. Seeing is believing. [Goes to the table, and lifts up the carpet.] Here Tre, Tre, poor Tre, give me the bone, sirrah. There's your name upon that square piece of paper. Behold!Mel. 'Tis wonderful! my very letters to a tittle! Lucy. 'Tis like your hand, madam, but not so like your hand, neither: and now, I look nearer, 'tis not like your hand at all. Kite. Here's a chambermaid, now, will outlie the devil! Lucy. Look'e, madam, they sha'nt impose upon us; people can't remember their hands, no more than they can their faces-Come, madam, let us be certain; write your name upon this paper, then we'll compare the two hands. [Takes out a paper, and folds it. Kite. Any thing for your satisfaction, madam -Here's pen and ink. [MELINDA writes, Lucy holds the paper. Lucy. Let me see it, madam; 'tis the samethe very same— -But I'll secure one copy for my own affairs. [Aside. Mel. This is demonstration! Kite. 'Tis so, madam-the word Demonstration comes from Dæmon, the father of lies. : Mel. Well, doctor, I'm convinced and now, pray, what account can you give of my future fortune? Kite. Before the sun has made one course round this earthly globe, your fortune will be fixed for happiness or misery. Mel. What! so near the crisis of my fate? Kite. Let me see-About the hour of ten tomorrow morning, you will be saluted by a gentleman, who will come to take his leave of you, being designed for travel; his intention of going abroad is sudden, and the occasion a woman. Your fortune and his are like the bullet and the barrel, one runs plump into the other-In short, if the gentleman travels, he will die abroad, and if he does, you will die before he comes home. Mel. What sort of a man is he? Kite. Madam, he's a fine gentleman, and a lover; that is, a man of very good sense, and a very great fool. Mel. How is that possible, doctor? Kite. Because, madam-because it is so-A woman's reason is the best for a man's being a fool. Mel. Ten o'clock, you say? Kite. Ten-about the hour of tea-drinking throughout the kingdom. Mel. Here, doctor. [Gives money.] Lucy, have you any questions to ask? Lucy. Oh, madam! a thousand. Kite. I must beg your patience till another time, for I expect more company this minute; besides, I must discharge the gentleman under the table. Lucy. O pray, sir, discharge us first! Kite. Tycho, wait on the ladies down stairs. [Exeunt MELINDA and LUCY. Enter WORTHY and PLUME. Kite. Mr Worthy, you were pleased to wish me joy to-day; I hope to be able to return the compliment to-morrow. Wor. I'll make it the best compliment to you, that ever I made in my life, if you do; but I must be a traveller, you say? Kite. No farther than the chops of the channel, I presume, sir. Plume. That we have concerted already. [Knocking hard.] Heyday! you don't profess midwifery, doctor? Kite. Away to your ambuscade. [Exeunt WORTHY and PLUME. Enter BRAZEN. Braz. Your servant, my dear! Kite. Yes, my dear! but mine is a peaceable spirit, and hates gunpowder. Thus I fortify myself: [Draws a circle round him.] and now, captain, have a care how you force my lines. Braz. Lines! what dost talk of lines! you have something like a fishing-rod there, indeed; but I come to be acquainted with you, manWhat's your name, my dear? Kite. Conundrum. Braz. Conundrum? rat me! I knew a famous doctor in London of your name-Where were you born? Kite. I was born in Algebra. Braz. Algebra! 'tis no country in Christendom, I'm sure, unless it be some place in the Highlands in scotland. Kite. Right-I told you I was bewitched. Braz. So am I, my dear! I am going to be married-I have had two letters from a lady of fortune that loves me to madness, fits, cholic, spleen, and vapours shall I marry her in four-and-twenty hours, ay or no? Kite. Certainly. Braz. Gadso, ay Kite. Or no-But I must have the year, and the day of the month, when these letters were dated. Braz. Why, you old bitch! did you ever hear of love-letters dated with the year and day of the month? do you think billetdoux are like bank-bills? Kite. They are not so good, my dear-but if they bear no date, I must examine the contents. Braz. Contents! that you shall, old boy! here they be both. Kite. Only the last you received, if you please. [Takes the letter.] Now, sir, if you please to let me consult my books for a minute, I'll send this letter enclosed to you with the determination of the stars upon it to your lodgings. Braz. With all my heart-I must give him[Puts his hands in his pockets] Algebra! I fancy, doctor, 'tis hard to calculate the place of your nativity-Here-[Gives him money.] And if I succeed, I'll build a watch-tower on the top of the highest mountain in Wales, for the study of astrology, and the benefit of the Conundrums. Enter PLUME and WORTHY. [Exit. and Plume. 'Tis plain they are not the same is this the malicious name that was subscribed to the letter which made Mr Balance send his daughter into the country? Wor. The very same: the other fragments I shewed you just now, I once intended for another use; but I think I have turned it now to a better advantage. Plume. But 'twas barbarous to conceal this so long, and to continue me so many hours in the pernicious heresy of believing that angelic creature could change. Poor Sylvia! Wor. Rich Sylvia, you mean, and poor captain; ha, ha, ha!-Come, come, friend, Melinlinda is true, and shall be mine; Sylvia is constant, and may be yours. Plume. No, she's above my hopes—but for her sake, I'll recant my opinion of her sex. ACT V. Scale. I SAY, 'tis not to be borne, Mr Balance. Bal. Look'e, Mr Scale, for my own part I shall be very tender in what regards the officers of the army; I only speak in reference to captain Plume-for the other spark, I know nothing of. Scale. Nor can I hear of any body that does -Oh, here they come. Enter SYLVIA, BULLOCK, ROSE, Prisoners, Constable, and Mob. [Exeunt. Const. May it please your worships, we took Syl. He means marriage, I think-but that, them in the very act, re infecta, sir-The gen- you know, is so odd a thing, that hardly any two tleman, indeed, behaved himself like a gentle-people under the sun agree in the ceremony; man, for he drew his sword and swore, and af- some make it a sacrament, others a convenience, terwards laid it down, and said nothing. and others make it a jest; but among soldiers Bal. Give the gentleman his sword again-'tis most sacred-our sword you know is our hoWait you without. [Exeunt Constable and Watch. I'm sorry, sir, [To SYLVIA] to know a gentleman upon such terms, that the occasion of our meeting should prevent the satisfaction of an acquaintance. Syl. Sir, you need make no apology for your warrant, no more than I shall do for my behaviour-my innocence is upon an equal foot with your authority. Scale. Innocence! have you not seduced that young maid? Syl. No, Mr Goosecap, she seduced me. Bul. So she did, I'll swear-for she proposed marriage first. nour, that we lay down-the hero jumps over it first, and the amazon after-leap, rogue; follow, whore-the drum beats a ruff, and so to bed: that's all: the ceremony is concise. Bul And the prettiest ceremony, so full of pastime and prodigality Bal. What are you a soldier? Bul. Ay, that I am-Will your worship lend me your cane, and I'll shew you how I can exercise? Bal. Take it. [Strikes him over the_head.] Pray, sir, what commission may you bear? [To SYLVIA. Syl. I'm called captain, sir, by all the coffee men, drawers, whores, and groom-porters in Lon- | vitude. How did you use me the year before! don; for I wear a red-coat, a sword, piquet in my head, and dice in my pocket. Scale. Your name, pray, sir? Syl. Captain Pinch: I cock my hat with a pinch, I take snuff with a pinch, pay my whores with a pinch; in short, I can do any thing at a pinch, but fight and fill my belly. Bal. And pray, sir, what brought you into Shropshire? when, taking the advantage of my innocence and necessity, you would have made me your mistress, that is, your slave-Remember the wicked insinuations, artful baits, deceitful arguments, cunning pretences; then your impudent behaviour, loose expressions, familiar letters, rude visits; remember those, those, Mr Worthy. Wor. I do remember, and am sorry I made no better use of them. [Aside.] But you may re Syl. A pinch, sir: I know you country gentle-member, madam, thatmen want wit, and you know that we town gentlemen want money; and so Mel. Sir, I'll remember nothing-'tis your interest that I should forget. You have been bar Bal. I understand you, sir-Here, constable-barous to me, I have been cruel to you; put Enter Constable. Take this gentleman into custody till further orders. Rose. Pray your worship don't be uncivil to him, for he did me no hurt; he's the most harmless man in the world, for all he talks so. Scale. Come, come, child; I'll take care of you. Syl. What, gentlemen, rob me of my freedom and my wife at once! 'tis the first time they ever went together. Bal. Hark'e, constable. [Whispers him. Const. It shall be done, sir-come along, sir. [Exeunt Constable, BULLOCK, and SYLVIA. Bal. Come, Mr Scale, we'll manage the spark presently. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-MELINDA's apartment. Enter MELINDA and WORTHY. Mel. So far the prediction is right; 'tis ten exactly. [Aside.] And pray, sir, how long have you been in this travelling humour? Wor. 'Tis natural, madam, for us to avoid what disturbs our quiet. Mel. Rather the love of change, which is more natural, may be the occasion of it. Wor. To be sure, madam, there must be charms in variety, else neither you nor I should be so fond of it. Mel. You mistake, Mr Worthy; I am not so fond of variety as to travel for't; nor do I think it prudence in you to run yourself into a certain expence and danger, in hopes of precarious plea sures. Wor. What pleasures I may receive abroad are indeed uncertain; but this I am sure of, I shall meet with less cruelty among the most barbarous of nations, than I have found at home. Mel. Come, sir, you and I have been jangling a great while; I fancy if we made up our accounts we should the sooner come to an agreement. Wor. Sure, madam, you won't dispute your being in my debt-My fears, sighs, vows, promises, assiduities, anxieties, jealousies, have run on for a whole year without any payment. Mel. A year! oh, Mr Worthy! what you owe to me is not to be paid under a seven years' serVOL. II. that and that together, and let one balance the other-Now, if you will begin upon a new score, lay aside your adventuring airs, and behave yourself handsomely till Lent be over, here's my hand, I'll use you as a gentleman should be. Wor. And If I don't use you as a gentlewo man should be, may this be my poison! [Kissing her hand. Enter a Servant. Ser. Madam, the coach is at the door. Mel. I am going to Ir Balance's countryhouse to see my cousin Sylvia; I have done her an injury, and can't be easy till I've asked her pardon. Wor. I dare not hope for the honour of waiting on you. Mel. My coach is full; but if you'll be so gallant as to mount your own horse and follow us, we shall be glad to be overtaken; and if you bring captain Plume with you, we shan't have the worse reception. Wor. I'll endeavour it. Plume. Half a score if you will, my dear! | need not trouble yourself to follow her, because What hast got in thy hand, child? her journey to justice Balance's is put off, and she's gone to take the air another way. Braz. 'Tis a project for laying out a thousand pounds Plume. Were it not requisite to project first how to get t in? Braz. Y u can't imagine, my dear, that I want twenty thousand pounds. I have spent twenty times as much in the service- -but if this twenty thousand pounds should not be in specie Plume. What twenty thousand? Braz. Heark'e Plume. Married! ✅Whispers. Braz. Presently; we're to meet about half a mile out of town at the waterside-and so forth Reads.]-Look'e there, my dear dog! [TO WORTHY. Wor. How! her journey put off? Plume. That is, her journey was a put-off to you. Wor. 'Tis plain, plain-But how, where, when is she to meet Brazen? Plume. Just now, I tell you; half a mile hence, at the water-side. Wor. Up or down the water? Plume. That I don't know. Wor. I'm glad my horses are ready—Jack, get them out. Plume. Shall I go with you? Wor. Not an inch-I shall return presently. [Erit. Plume. You'll find me at the hall: the jusare sitting by this time, and I must attend [Shews the bottom of the letter to PLUME. Plume. Melinda! and by this light her own hand! Once more if you please, my dear-Hertices hand exactly-Just now, you say? Bruz. This minute; I must be gone. Plume. Have a little patience, and I'll go with you. Braz. No, no, I see a gentleman coming this way that may be inquisitive; tis Worthy-do you know him? Plume. Whip and spur, Worthy, or won't mount. you Wor. But I shall; Melinda and I are agreed; she's gone to visit Sylvia; we are to mount and follow; and, could we carry a parson with us, who knows what might be done for us both? Plume. Don't trouble your head; Melinda has secured a parson already. Wor. Already! do you know more than I? Plume. Yes, I saw it under her hand-Brazen and she are to meet half a mile hence at the water-side, there to take boat, I suppose, to be ferryed over to the Elysian Fields, if there be any such thing, in matrimony. Wor. I parted with Melinda just now; she assured me she hated Brazen, and that she resolved to discard Lucy for daring to write letters to him in her name. Plume. Nay, nay, there's nothing of Lucy in this-I tell ye I saw Melinda's hand as surely as this is mine. Wor. But I tell you she's gone this minute to Justice Balance's country-house. Plume. But I tell you she's gone this minute to the water-side. Enter a Servant. Ser. Madam Melinda has sent word that you them. SCENE IV. A court of justice. BALANCE, SCALE, and SCRUPLE, upon the bench; Constable, KITE, mob.—KITE and Constable advance. Kite. Pray, who are those honourable gentlemen upon the bench? Const. He, in the middle, is justice Balance; he, on the right, is justice Scale; and he, on the left, is justice Scruple; and I am Mr Constable; four very honest gentlemen. Kite. O dear, sir! I am your most obedient servant. [Saluting the constable.] I fancy, sir, that your employment and mine are much the same; for my business is to keep people in order, and, if they disobey, to knock them down; and then, we are both staff-officers. Const. Nay, I'm a serjeant myself—of the Inilitia-Come, brother, you shall see me exercise. Suppose this a musket; now, I'm shouldered. [Puts his staff on his right shoulder. Kite. Ay, you are shouldered pretty well for a constable's staff; but, for a musket, you must put it on the other shoulder, my dear! Const. Adso! that's true-Come, now give the word of command. Kite. Silence. [Strikes him over the head with his halberd. Const. That's the way to silence a man, with a witness! What do you mean, friend? Kite. Only to exercise you, sir. Const. Your exercise differs so much from ours, that we shall ne'er agree about it; if my own captain had given me such a rap, I had taken the law of him. Enter PLUME, Bal. Captain, you're welcome. Plume. Gentlemen, I thank you. Scrup. Come, honest captain, sit by me. [PLUME ascends, and sits upon the bench.] Now, produce your prisoners-Here, that fellow there, set him up. Mr Constable, what have you to say against this man? Const. I have nothing to say against him, an please you. Bal. No? what made you bring him hither? Const. I don't know, an please your worship. Scale. Did not the contents of your warrant direct you what sort of men to take up? Const. I can't tell, an please ye; I can't read. Scrup. A very pretty constable, truly! I find we have no business here. Kite. May it please the worshipful bench, I desire to be heard in this case, as being the counsel for the king. Bal. Come, serjeant, you shall be heard, since nobody else will speak; we won't come here for nothing. Kite. This man is but one man, the country may spare him, and the army wants him; besides, he's cut out by nature for a grenadier; he's five feet ten inches high; he shall box, wrestle, or dance the Cheshire round with any man in the country; he get's drunk every Sabbath-day, and he beats his wife. Wife. You lie, sirrah, you lie; an please your worship, he's the best natured pains-taking'st man in the parish, witness my five poor children. Scrup. A wife and five children! you constable, you rogue, how durst you impress a man that has a wife and five children? Scale. Discharge him, discharge him. Bal. Hold, gentlemen! Hark'e, friend, how do you maintain your wife and five children? Plume. They live upon wild-fowl and venison, sir; the husband keeps a gun, and kills all the hares and partridges within five miles round. Bal. A gun! nay, if he be so good at gunning, he shall have enough on't. He may be of use against the French; for he shoots flying, to be sure. Scrup. But his wife and children, Mr Balance. Wife. Ay, ay, that's the reason you would send him away; you know I have a child every year, and you are afraid that they should come upon the parish at last. Plume. Pray, gentlemen, let me have one honest man in my company, for the novelty's sake. Bal. What are you, friend? Mob. A collier; I work in the coal-pits. Scrup. Look'e, gentlemen, this fellow has a trade; and the act of parliament here expresses that we are to impress no man that has any visible means of a livelihood. Kite. May it please your worship, this man has no visible means of a livelihood, for he works under ground. Plume. Well said, Kite; besides, the army wan's miners. Bal. Right, and had we an order of government for it, we could raise you, in this and the neighbouring county of Stafford, five hundred colliers, that would run you under ground, like moles, and do more service in a siege than all the miners in the army. Scrup. Well, friend, what have yourself? Mob. I'm married. you to say for Kite. Lack-a-day! so am I. Kite. May it please your worship, she's with child in conscience. Scale. Who married you, mistress? Wom. My husband: we agreed that I should call him husband, to avoid passing for a whore, and that he should call me wife, to shun going for a soldier. Scrup. A very pretty couple! Pray, captain, will you take them both? Plume. What say you, Mr Kite? will you take care of the woman? Kite. Yes, sir; she shall go with us to the seaside, and there, if she has a mind to drown herself, we'll take care nobody shall hinder her. Bal. Here, constable, bring in my man. [Exit Plume. Look'e there, gentlemen, the honest Const.] Now, captain, I'll fit you with a man woman has spoke it at once; the parish had bet-such as you never listed in your life. ter maintain five children this year, than six or seven the next. That fellow, upon this high feeding, may get you two or three beggars at a birth. Wife. Look'e, Mr Captain, the parish shall get nothing by sending him away; for I won't lose my tecming-time, if there be a man left in the parish. Bal. Send that woman to the house of correction-and the man Enter Constable and SYLVIA. Oh, my friend Pinch! I'm very glad to see you. Syl. Well, sir, and what then? Scale. What theu! is that your respect to the bench? Syl. Sir, I don't care a farthing for you nor your bench neither. Scrup. Look'e, gentlemen, that's enough; he's a very impudent fellow, and fit for a soldier. |