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trouble yourself about your own affairs; and let Oak. Oh, my dear! me tell you, sir, that I
[E.reunt Mr and Mrs Oakly. Oak. Nay, do not put thyself into a passion Maj. Ha, ha, ha! there's a picture of resoluwith the major, my dear! It is not his fault; tion! there goes a philosopher for you! ha! and I shall come back to thee very soon.
Charles ! Mrs Oak. Come back ! why need you go out? Cha. Oh, uncle ! I have no spirits to laugh, I know well enough when you mean to deceive now. me : for, then, there is always a pretence of di- Maj. So ! I have a fine time on't between you ning with sir John, or my lord, or somebody; and any brother. Will you meet me to dinner at but when you tell me that you are going to a ta- the St Alban's by four: We'll drink her health, vern, it's such a bare-faced affront
and think of this affair, Oak. This is so strange, now! Why, my dear, Cha. Don't depend upon me. I shall be runI shall only just
ning all over the town in pursuit of my HarMrs Oak. Only just go after the lady in the riot. I have been considering what you have letter, I suppose ?
said ; but, at all events, I'll go directly to lady Oak. Well, well; I won't go then. Will that Freelove's. If I find her not there, which way I convince you? I'll stay with you, my dear! will shall direct myself, Heaven knows. that satisfy you?
Maj. Hark ye, Charles! If you meet with Maj. For shame! hold out, if you are a man. her, you may be at a loss. Bring her to my
(Apart. house. I have a snug room, and — Oak. She has been so much vext this morn- Cha. Phoo! prithee, uncle, don't trifle with ning already, I must bumour her a little now. me, now.
[Apart. Maj. Well, seriously, then, my house is at Maj. Fy, fy! go out, or you're undone.
Apart. Cha. I thank you : but I must be gone. Oak. You see it's impossible- Apart. Maj. Ay, ay; bring her to my house, and we'll [To Mrs Oakly.) I'll dine at home with thee, settle the whole affair for you. You shall clap
her into a a post-chaise, take the chaplain of our Mrs Oak. Ay, ay; pray do, sir. Dine at a regiment along with you; wheel her down to tavern, indeed!
[Going. Scotland; and, when you come back, send to seta Oak. [Returning.) You may depend on me an- tle her fortune with her father: that's the moother time, major.
dern art of making love, Charles ! Maj. Steel and adamant! Ah!
(Exeunt. Mrs Oak. (Returning.] Mr Oakly!
SCENE I.-A room in the Bull and Gate Inn. grandam, and great great grandam, were New
market Peggy and Black Moll, and his great Enter Sir HARRY BEAGLE and Tom.
grandsire, and great great grandsire, were sir Sir Har. Ten guineas a mare, and a crown Ralph Whip’s Regulus, and the famous Prince the man? hey, Tom !
"Anamaboo, Tom. Yes, your honour.
bis Sir Har. And are you sure, Tom, that there
John X SPUR, is no flaw in his blood ?
inark. Tom. He's a good thing, sir, and as little be
STARTAL' holden to the ground, as any horse that ever went over the turf upon four legs. Why, here's Tom. All fine horses, and won every thing! a his whole pedigree, your honour!
foal out of your honour's bald-faced Venus, by Sir Har. Is he attested ?
this horse, would beat the world. Tom. Very well attested: it is signed by Jack Sir Har. Well, then, we'll think on't. But, Spur, and my lord Startall.
pox on't, Tom; I have certainly knocked up my [Giving the pedigree. little roan gelding, in this damned wild-goose Sir Har. Let me see-[Reading.]-Tom-chase of threescore miles an end. come-tickle-me was out of the famous Tantwi- Tom. He's deadly blown to be sure, your
hovy-mare, by sir Aaron Driver's chesnut horse nour; and I am afraid we are upon a wrong : White Stockings. White Stockings, his dam, scent after all, Madam Harriot certainly took was got by lord Hedge's South Barb, full sister across the country, instead of coming ou to Lon
to the Proserpine Filley, and his sire Tom don. 'Jones, his grandain was the Irish Dutchess, and Sir Har. No, no; we traced her all the way 1 his grandsire 'Squire Sportly's Trajan; his great up. But d’ye hear, Tom, look out among the
stables and repositories here in town, for a smart Sir Har. You seemed mad about her a little road
nag, and a strong horse to carry a portman- while ago. She's a fine mare, and a thing of teau.
shape and blood. Tom. Sir Roger Turf's horses are all to be Rus. Damn her blood !-Harriot ! my dear sold—I'll see if there's ever a tight thing there~ provoking Harriot! Where can she be? Have but I suppose, sir, you would have one somewhat you got any intelligence of her ? stronger than Snip?—I don't think he's quite Sir Hur. No, faith, not I: we seem to be enough of a horse for your honour.
quite thrown out here--but, however, I have orSir Hur. Not enough of a horse! Snip's a dered Tom to try if he can hear any thing of her powerful gelding; master of two stone more among the ostlers. than my weight. If Snip stands sound, I would Rus. Why don't you inquire after her yournot take a hundred guineas for him. Poor Snip! self? why don't you run up and down the whole go into the stable, Ton; see they give him a town after her? -t'other young rascal knows warm mash, and look at his heels avd his eyes. where she is, I warrant you. What a plague it But where's Mr Russet all this while?
is to have a daughter! When one loves her to Tom. I left the 'squire at breakfast on a cold distraction, and has toiled and laboured to make pigeon-pye, and enquiring after madain Harriot ber happy, the ungrateful slut will sooner go to in the kitchen. I'll let him know your honour hell her own way—but she shall have him-! would be glad to see hiin here.
will make her happy, if I break her heart for it. Sir Har. Ay, do: but hark'e, Tom, be sure -A provoking gipsy !-to run away, and toryou take care of Snip.
ment her poor father, that dotes on her! I'll Tom. I'll warrant your honour.
never see her face again.---Sir Harry, how cau Sir Har. I'll be down in the stables myself we get any intelligence of her? Why don't you by and by. (Exit Tom.] Let me see- -out speak? why don't you tell mne ?---Zounds ! you of the famous Tantwisy by White Stockings; seem as indifferent as if you did not care a farthWhite Stockings his dam, fúll sister to the Pros- ing alwut her. erpine Filly, and his sire-pox on't, how un- Sir Har. Indifferent ! you may well call me lucky it is, that this damned accident should hap- indifferent !---this damned chase after her will pen in the Newmarket week! ten to one I lose cost me a thousaud------if it had not been for my match with lord Choakjade, by not riding her, I would not have been off the course this myself
, and I shall have no opportunity to hedge week, to have saved the lives of my whole family my betts neither -what a damned piece of
---I'll hold vou six lo two that-----work have I made on't! I have knocked up poor Rus. Zounds! hold your tongue, or talk more Snip, shall lose my match, and, as to Harriot, to the purpose-----I swear, she is too good for the odds are, that I lose my match there, too- you---you don't deserve such a wife---a fine, dear, a skittish young tit! If I once get her tight in sweet, lovely, charming girl !---She'll break my hand, I'll make her wince for it. Her estate heart.------How shall I find her out ? ------Do, joined to my own, I would have the finest stud, prithee, sir Harry, my dear honest friend, conand the noblest kennel in the whole country:- sider how we may discover where she is fled to. But here comes her father, puffing and blowing, Sir Har. Suppose you put an advertisement like a broken-winded horse up hill.
into the news-papers, describing her marks, her
age, her height, and where she strayed from. I Enter RUSSET.
recovered a bay mare once by that method.
Rus. Advertise her! What ! describe my Rus. Well, sir Harry, have you heard any daughter and expose her in the public papers, thing of her?
with a reward for bringing her home, like horses Sir Har. Yes, I have been asking Tom about stolen or strayed !------recovered a bay mare !--her, and he says, you may have her for five hun- the devil's in the fellow !------he thinks of nothing dred guineas.
but racers, and bay mares, and stallions.-Rus. Five hundred guineas ! how d'ye mean? 'Sdeath I wish your---where is she? which way did she take?
Sir Har. I wish Harriot was fairly pounded; Sir Hur. Why, first she went to Epsom, then it would save us both a deal of trouble. to Lincoln, then to Nottingham, and now she is Rus. Which way shall I turn myself?-----I at York.
am half distracted.-------If I go to that young Rus. Impossible ! she could not go over half dog's house, he has certainly conveyed her somethe ground in the time. What the devil are you where out of my reach------if she does not send talking of?
to me to day, I'll give her up for ever------perSir Har. Of the mare you was just now say- haps, though, she may have met with some acing you wanted to buy.
cident, and has nobody to assist her.-----No, she Rus. The devil take the mare !—who would is certainly with that young rascal.---I wish she think of her, when I am mad about an affair of was dead, and I was dead------I'll blow young so much more consequence?
Oakly's brains out. Vol. II.
sit down. (They sit.] I longed to see you. It
seemed an age till I had an opportunity of talkSir Har. Well, Tom, how is poor Snip? ing over the silly affair that happened this mornTom. A little better, sir, after his warm mash: ing.
(Mildly. but Lady, the pointing bitch that followed you Oak. Why, really, my dear all the way, is deadly foot-sore.
Mrs Oak. Nay, don't look so grave now. Rus. Dainn Snip and Lady! have you heard Comeit's all over. Charles and you have any thing of Harriot?
cleared up matters. I am satisfied. Tom. Why I came on purpose to let my mas- Oak. Indeed! I rejoice to hear it! You make ter and your honour know, that John Ostler says me happy beyond my expectation. This dispoas how, just such a lady as I told him madam sition will insure our felicity. Do but lay aside Ilarriot was, came here in a four-wheel chaise, your cruel unjust suspicion, and we should never and was fetched away soon after by a fine lady have the least difference. in a chariot.
Mrs Oak. Indeed, I begin to think so. I'll enRus. Did she come alone?
deavour to get the better of it. And really some Tom. Quite alone, only a servant-maid, please times it is very ridiculous. My uneasiness this your honour.
morning, for instance! ha, ha, ha! To be so Rus. And what part of the town did they go much alarmed about that idle letter, which turned
out quite another thing at last-was not I very Tom. John Ostler says as how, they bid the angry with you? ha, ha, ha! (Affecting a laugả. coachman drive to Grosvenor-square.
Dak. Don't mention it. Let us both forget it. Sir Har. Soho ! puss
Your present cheerfulness makes amends for Rus. She is certainly gone to that young every thing, rogue----he has got his aunt to fetch her from Mrs Oak. I am apt to be too violent: I love hence-----or else she is with her own aunt, lady you too well to be quite easy about you. (Fondly.] Freelove-----they both live in that part of the Well--no matter--what is become of Charles? town. I'll go to his house; and in the mean Oak. Poor fellow ! he is on the wing, rambling while, sir Harry, you shall step to lady Free- all over the town in pursuit of this young lady. love's. We'll find her, I warrant you. I'll teach
Mrs Oak. Where is he gone, pray! my young mistress to be gadding. She shall Oak. First of all, I believe, to some of her remarry you to-night. Come along, sir Harry, lations. come along; we won't lose a minute. Come Mrs Oak. Relations! Who are they? Where along.
do they live? Sir Har. Soho ! hark forward ! wind 'em Oak. There is an aunt of her's lives just in the and cross 'em! hark forward ! Yoics! Yoics ! neighbourhood; lady Freelove.
Mrs Oak. Lady Freelove! Oho! gone to la
dy Freelove's, is he?-and do you think he will SCENE II.—Changes to Oakly's.
any thing of her?
Oak. I don't know; but I hope so with all my Enter MRS OAKLY.
soul. Mrs Oak. After all, that letter was certainly Mrs Oak. Hope! with all your soul! do you intended for my husband. I see plain enough hope so?
(Alarmed. they are all in a plot against me. My husband Oak. Hope so ! ye-yes-why, don't you hope intriguing, the major working him up to affrontso ?
[Surprised. me, Charley owning his letters, and so playing
Mrs Oak. Well-yes-Recovering: 0 ay, into each other's hands.-------They think me a to be sure. I hope it of all things. You know, fool, I find—--but I'll be too much for them my dear, it must give me great satisfaction, as vet.-------I have desired to speak with Mr Oak- well as yourself, to see Charles well settled. ly, and expect him here immediately. His Oak. I should think so; and really I don't temper is naturally open; and if he thinks my know where he can be settled so well. She is a anger abated, and my suspicions laid asleep, he most deserving young woman, I assure you. will certainly betray himself by his behaviour. Mrs Oak. You are well acquainted with her, I'll assume an air of good-humour, pretend to then? believe the fine story they bave trumped up, Oak. To be sure, my dear! after seeing her so throw him off his guard, and so draw the secret often last summer at the major's house in the out of him. Here he comes.---How hard it is country, and at her father's. to dissemble one's anger! O, I could rate him Mrs Oak. So often! soundly! but I'll keep down my indignation at Oak. O ay, very often-Charles took care of present, though it chokes me.
that--almost every day.
Mrs Oak. Indeed! But pray—a-a-a-I Enter OAKLY, say
(Confused. O my dear! I am very glad to see you. Pray Oak. What do you say? my dear!
Mrs Oak. I say—a—a—[Stammering.] Is she woman !-No place but my own house to serve handsome
your purposes? Oak. Prodigiously handsome indeed.
Oak. Lord, this is the strangest misapprehenMrs Oak. Prodigiously handsome ! and is she sion! I ans quite astonished. reckoned a sensible girl?
Mrs Oak. Astonished ! yes-confused, deOak. A very sensible, modest, agreeable young | tected, betrayed by your vain confidence of inlady, as ever I knew. You would be extremely posing on me. Why, sure you imagine me an fond of her, I am sure. You can't imagine how idiot, a driveller. Charles, indeed! yes, Charles happy I was in her company. Poor Charles! she is a fine excuse for you. The letter this mornsoon made a conquest of himn; and no wonder: ing, the letter, Mr Oakly! she has so many elegant accomplishments ! such Oak. The letter! why, sure thatan infinite fund of cheerfulness and good hu- Mrs Oak. Is sufficiently explained. You have mour! Why, she's the darling of the whole coun- made it very clear to me. Now I am convinced. try.
I have no doubt of your perfidy. But I thank Mrs Oak. Lord ! you seem quite in raptures you for some hints you have given me, and you about her.
may be sure I shall make use of them : nor will Oak. Raptures! not at all. I was only telling I rest, till I have full conviction, and overwhelm you the young lady's character. I thought you you with the strongest proof of your baseness towould be glad to find that Charles had made so sensible a choice, and was so likely to be happy. Oak. Nay, but
Mrs Oak. 0, Charles ! True, as you say, Mrs Oak. Go, go! I have no doubt of your Charles will be mighty happy.
falsehood : away!
[Exit Mrs Oakly. Oak. Don't you think so?
Oak. Was there ever any thing like this? Such Mrs Oak. I am convinced of it. Poor Charles! unaccountable behaviour! angry I don't know I am much concerned for him. He must be very why! jealous of I know not what! pretending to be uneasy about her. I was thinking whether we satisfied merely to draw ine in, and then creating could be of any service to him in this affair. imaginary proofs out of an innocent conversa
Oak. Was you, my love? that is very good of tion !-Ilints ! - hints I have given her! you. Let ine see? How can we manage it? Gad! What can she mean?I have bit it. The luckiest thought! and it will be of great service to Charles.
Toilet crossing the stage. Mrs Oak. Well, what is it? [Eagerly.}-You Toilet! where are you going? know I would do any thing to serve Charles, and Toilet. To order the porter to let in no comoblige you.
[Mildly. pany to my lady to-day. She won't see a single Oak. That is so kind! Lord, my dear, if you soul, sir.
[Erit Toilet. would but always consider things in this proper Oak. What an unhappy woman! Now will she light, and continue this amiable temper, we should sit all day feeding on her suspicions, till she has be the happiest people
convinced herself of the truth of them. Mrs Oak. I believe so: but what's your proposal ?
JOHN crossing the stage. Oak. I am sure you'll like it. Charles, you Well, sir, what's your business? know, may perhaps be so lucky as to meet with John. Going to order the chariot, sir.—My lathis lady,
dy's going out immediately. [Exit John. Mrs Oak. True.
Oak. Going out! what is all this? -But every Oak. Now, I was thinking, that he might, with way she makes me miserable. Wild and ungoyour leave, my dear
vernable as the sea or the wind ! made up of Mrs Oak. Well !
storms and tempests! I can't bear it : and, one Oak. Bring her home here
way or other, I will put an end to it. [Erit. Mrs Oak. How !
Oak. Yes, bring her home here, my dear!-it SCENE HII.-LADY FREELOVE's house. will make poor Charles's mind quite easy: and you may take her under your protection till her
Enter LADY FREELOVE with a card-Servant father, comes to town.
following Mrs Oak. Amazing ! this is even beyond my Lady Free. [Reading as she enters. And expectation.
• will take the liberty of waiting on her ladyship Oak. Why !what !
en cavalier, as he comes from the menége:Mrs Oak. Was there ever such assurance ! Does any body wait that brought this card? Take her under my protection! What! would Ser. Lord Trinket's servant is in the hall, mayou keep her under my nose?
dam. Oak. Nay, I never conceived—I thought you Lady Free. My compliments, and I shall be would have approved
glad to see his lordship.-Where is Miss Russet? Mrs Oak. What! make me your convenient Ser. In her own chamber, madam.
Lady Free. What is she doing?
have fine eyes, child! And they have made fine Ser. Writing, I believe, madam.
work with lord Trinket. Lady Free. Oh! ridiculous !-scribbling to that Har. Lord Trinket! (Contemptuously. Oakly, I suppose. [Apart.]- Let her know I Lady Free. Yes, lord Trinket: you know it should be glad of her company here.
as well as I do; and yet, you ill-natured thing,
[Exit Servant. you will not vouchsafe him a single smile. But It is a mighty troublesome thing to manage you must give the poor soul a little encouragesimple girl, that knows nothing of the world. ment, prithee do. Harriot, like all other girls, is foolishly fond of Har. Indeed, I cannot, madam, for of all this young fellow of her own chusing, her first mankind Lord Trinket is my aversion. love, that is to say, the first man that is particu- Lady Free. Why so, child? He is counted a larly civil, and the first air of consequence which well-bred, sensible young fellow, and the women a young lady gives herself. Poor silly soul ! - all think him handsome. But Oakly must not have her positively. A match Har. Yes, he is just polite enough to be able with lord Trinket will add to the dignity of the to be very unmannerly with a great deal of good family. I must bring her into it. I will throw breeding; is just handsome enough to make him her into his way as often as possible, and leave most excessively vain of his person; and has just him to make his party good as fast as he can. reflection enough to finish him for a coxcomb; But here she comes.
qualifications, which are all very common a
mong those whom your ladyship calls men of Enter HARRIOT.
quality. Well! Harriot, still in the pouts? nay, prithee, Lady Frec. A satirist, too! Indeed, my dear, my dear lit:le run-away girl, be more cheerful ! this affectation sits very awkwardly upon you.--. your everlasting melancholy puts me into the va- There will be a superiority in the behaviour of pours.
persons of fashion. Har. Dear madam, excuse nie. How can I be Har. A superiority, indeed! For his lordship cheerful in my present situation? I know my fa- alway behaves with so much insolent familiarity
, ther's temper so well, that I am sure this step of that I should almost imagine he was soliciting mine must almost distract him. I sometimes wish me for other favours, rather than to pass my that I had remained in the country, let what whole life with bim. would have been the consequence.
Lady Free. Innocent freedoms, child, which Lady Free. Why, it is a naughty child, that's every fine woman expects to be taken with her, certain ; but it need not be so uneasy about pa- as an acknowledgement of her beauty, pa, as you know that I wrote by last night's post, Har. They are freedoms, which, I think, no to acquaint him, that his little lost sheep was innocent woman can allow. safe, and thiat you are ready to obey his com- Lady Free. Romantic to the last degree ! mands in every particular, except marrying that Why, you are in the country still, Harriot! oaf, sir Harry Beagle.—Lord! Lord! what a difference there is between a country and town
Enter Sercant. education! Why, a London Jass would have Ser. My lord Trinket, madam. junped out of a window into a gallant's arms,
[Erit Servant. and without thinking of her father, unless it were Lady Free. I swear now I have a good miud to have drawn a few bills on him, been an hun- to tell him all you have said. dred miles off in nine or ten hours, or perhaps Enter LORD Trinket in boots, fc. as from the out of the kingdom in twenty-four, Har. I fear I have already been too precipi
Riding-house. tate. I treinble for the consequences.
Your lordship's most obedient humble servant. Lady Free. I swear, child, you are a downright Lord Trink. Your ladyship does me too much prude. Your way of taiking gives me the spleen; honour. Here I ain en bottine as you see—just so full of affection, and duty, and virtue, 'tis just come from the menege. Miss Russet, I am your like a funeral serinon. And yet, pretty soul"it slave. I declare it makes me quite happy to find can love. Well, I wonder at your taste; a sneak- you together. 'Pon honour, inadam, 1 To Haring simple gentleman! without a title ! and when, RIOT.] I begin to conceive grcat hopes of you: to my knowledge, you might bave a man of qua- and, as for you, Lady Freelove, I cannot suttility to-morrow.
ciently commend your assiduity with your fair Har. Perhaps so. Your ladyship must excuse pupil. She was before possessed of every grace me, but many a man of quality would make me that nature could bestow on her, and nobody is iniserable.
so well qualified as your ladyship to give her the Lady Free. Indeed, my dear, these antedilu: Bon Ton. vian notions will never do now-a-days; and, at Har. Compliment and contempt all in a the same time, too, those little wicked eyes of breath! My lord, I am obliged to you. But wa pours speak a very different language. Indeed you ving my acknowledgements, give ine leave to ask