Lub. You don't! Why then may happen my name 'en't Lubin Blackthorn, and 'tis likely I did not set out six months ago to see my father down in the west, and ask his consent to my marriage with your daughter Gillian; and I warrant you I did not stay till my father died, to take possession of his farm and every thing that belonged to him; nay, you'll want to make me believe presently that I 'en't come now to settle affairs, and take her back into the country with me.

You won't

Cic. Don't make a fool of yourself, young man get back to your farm, and graze your oxen. get a lamb out of our fold, I promise you.

Lub. Well, but in sober sadness, you 'en't serious, are you?

Cic. Serious! Why don't I tell you, Gillian's to be married to another to-morrow?

Lub. Where is she? I'll hear it from her own mouth.

Cic. I believe about this time she is trying on her wedding suit.

Lub. And who is this she is going to be married to? I'll see him, and know what he has done to deserve her more than I have.

Cic. Done to deserve her?

Lub. Yes, done to deserve her. You forget, I suppose, when I've carried her milk-pail for her, or taken her share of work in the hay-field, how you us'd to say, that I was a true lover indeed; but I don't desire to have any thing to say to you-you'll repent

first.

Cic. Poor young man!

Lub. Nay, but don't you think you have us'd me very ill, now?

Cic. I thought you said you would not speak a word to me?

Lub. Nay, but dame Cicely

Cic. Your servant. If you have a mind to be a brideman, we shall be glad to see you.

Exit.

Lub. A very pretty spot of work this! And so I have

come a hundred miles to make a fool of myself, and to be laughed at by the whole village.

AIR,

I lock'd up all my treasure,
I journey'd many a mile,
And by my grief did measure
The passing time the while.
My business done and over,
I hasten'd back amain,
Like an expecting lover,
To view it once again.
But this delight was stifled,
As it began to dawn,
I found the casket rifled,
And all my treasure gone.

Enter EASY.

Lub. Here comes her father. I don't suppose he had much hand in it; for so he had his afternoon's nap in quiet he was always for letting things go as they would. So, master Easy, you have consented, I find, to marry your daughter to another, after promising me over and over that nobody should have her but me.

Easy. My wife desired me.

Lub. Your mind is strangely altered, farmer Easy. But do me one piece of justice, however-tell me who is it you intend for your son-in-law?

Easy. "Tis a rich one, I assure you.

Lub. And so you have broke your word, and all for the lucre of gain. And, pray now, don't you expect to be hooted out of the village?

Easy. I can't say I do.

Lub. Then they're a vile pack of wretches, and I'll get away from them as soon as I can. Go on, go on— let me know all.

Easy. You are in a passion, child, so I don't regard what you say: but I think I should have been out

of my wits to have refused Mr. Steady, the rich quaker.

Lub. What, is it he then?
Easy. It is.

Lub. What, he that you are steward to; he that does so much good all about; and he that gives a portion every May-day to a damsel, as a reward for her sweetheart's ingenuity? Easy. The same.

You have seen the nature of itthat villager who can boast of having done the most ingenious thing, claims a right to demand a farm, containing sixty acres, rent-free for seven years, and a hundred pounds to stock it, together with whatever maiden he chooses, provided he gains her consent: and it is a good custom; for the young men, who formerly us'd to vie with one another in the feats of strength, now, as I may say, vie with one another in feats of understanding.

Lub. And so he is to marry your daughter?

Easy. Things are as I tell you. And for that purpose he has taken Gillian into his own house, had her taught music, and to say the truth, she is a different thing to what she was when you saw her last.

Lub. She is indeed! for when I saw her last, she told me that all the riches in the world should never make her forget me.

Easy. But since she has changed her mind; and it so falls out that to morrow is May-day, you would do well to study some ingenious thing, and get this portion for a more deserving damsel.

Lub. No, farmer Easy; her using me ill is no reason why I should do any thing to make me angry with myself; I swore to love her for ever, and I'll keep my word, though I see she has broke hers.

Easy. Do what you please; I must be gone.

Lub. Nay, but tell me one thing-did Ĝillian herself

consent to this?

Easy. You'll know all in good time.

[Exit.

AIR. LUBIN.

Women are Will-o'the-whisps 'tis plain,
The closer they seem still the more they retire;
They teaze you, and jade you,
And round about lead you,
Without hopes of shelter,
Ding-dong, helter-skelter,
Through water and fire:

And when you believe ev'ry danger and pain
From your heart you may banish,

And you're near the possession of what you desire,
That instant they vanish,

And the devil a bit can you catch them again.

By some they're not badly compar'd to the sea, Which is calm and tempestuous within the same hour;

Some say they are syrens, but take it from me,

They're a sweet race of angels, o'er man that have

pow'r

His person, his heart, nay his reason to seize,
And lead the poor creature wherever they please.

[Exit.

SCENE II. A Room in STEADY's House, with glass Doors in the Back.

Enter FLORETTA and GILLIAN.

Flor. Pooh, pooh, you must forget Lubin.

Gil. How can you talk so, Floretta? I won't though, and none of them shall make me: they all frightened me, by saying it was a bad thing not to obey my parents, and so I consented to marry this quaker-man; but there's a wide difference between marrying him and forgetting Lubin.

Flor. And so you would be silly enough to prefer being the homely wife of a clown, to rolling about in your own coach, having your own servants to wait on you, and in short leading the life of a fine lady?

Gil. Oh Lord! I am sick at the thoughts of being a fine lady! But what's the reason, Floretta, that my friends want to make me so unhappy? I am sure I'd do any thing rather than vex them.

Flor. Why you know that Mr. Steady's will is a law to us all; and as he had desired your friends to consent to this marriage, how could they refuse?

Gil. Well, but you know he is a very good-natured man; and I dare say if I was to tell him how disagreeable he is, and that I can't bear the sight of him, he'd let me marry Lubin.

Flor. Suppose you try.

Gil. So I will.

Flor. But how are you sure this Lubin you are so fond of, is as fond of you?

Gil. I've tried a thousand ways.

AIR.

A kernel from an apple core,
One day on either cheek I wore;
Lubin was plac'd on my right cheek,
That on my left did Hodge bespeak.
Hodge in an instant dropp'd to ground,
Sure token that his love's unsound;
But Lubin nothing could remove,
Sure token his is constant love.

Last May I sought to find a snail,
That might my lover's name reveal;
Which finding, home I quickly sped,
And on the earth the embers spread
When, if my letters I can tell,
I saw it mark a curious L.
Oh, may this omen lucky prove,
For L's for Lubin and for love.

Enter STEADY.

Steady. Verily, thou rejoicest me to find thee singing

and in such spirits.