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would that do?-For sarten, seeing how things and declares she will never marry at all.were, I should have been very glad had they But I know, my lord, she'll pay great respect gone accordingly: but if they change, 'tis no to any thing you say; and if you'll but lay fault of mine, you know.

your commands on her to marry him, I'm

sure she'll do it. A I R.

Lord A. Who, I lay my commands on her? Zooks! why should I sit down and grieve? Fair. Yes, pray, my lord, do; I'll send her

No case so hard, there mayn't be had in to you, and I humbly beg you will tell her, Some med'cine to relieve.


upon the match going forward ; tell Here's what masters all disasters:

her, you insist upon it, my lord, and speak a With a cup of nut-brown beer,

little angrily to her.


Lord A. Master Fairfield! What can be the Thus my drooping thoughts I cheer: If one pretty damsel fail me,

meaning of this?--Refuse to marry the farmer! From another 1

How, why?–My heart is thrown in an agifind

may Return more kind;

tation; while every step I take serves but to What a murrain then should ail me!

lead me into new perplexities. All girls are not of a mind.

Enter PATTY. He's a child that whimpers for a loy; I came bither, Polly, in consequence of our So here's to thee, honest boy. [Exit. conversation this morning, to render your

change of state as agreeable and happy as I Enter LORD AIM WORTH.

could: but your father tells me you have falFair. O the goodness, his lordship’s honour len out with the farmer; has any thing hap-you are come into a litter'd place, my noble pened since I saw you last to alter your good sir—the arm-chair-will it please your honour opinion of him? lo repose you on this, till a better

Pat. No, my lord, I am in the same opinion Lord A. Thank you, miller, there's no oc- with regard to the farmer now as I always casion for eitber.-I only want to speak a few was. words to you, and have company waiting for Lord A. I thought, Patty, you loved him; me without.

you told meFair. Without-wou't their honours favour Pat. My lord ! my poor hovel so far

Lord A. Weil, no matter-It seems I have Lord A. :jo, miller, let them stay where been mistaken in that particnlar — Possibly they are.—1 find you are about marrying your your affections are engaged elsewhere: let me daughter-I know the great regard my mother but know the man that can make you happy, bad for her; and am satisfied that nothing and I swearbut her sudden death could have prevented Pat. Indeed, my lord, you take too much her leaving her a handsome provision. trouble upon my account.

Fair. Dear, my lord, your noble mother, Lord À. Perhaps, Patty, you love somebody you, and all your family, have heaped favours so much beneath you, you are ashamed to on favours on my poor child.

own it; but your esteem confers a value whereLord A. Whatever has been done for her soever it is placed : ! was too harsh with she has fully merited

you this morning: our inclinations are not in Fair. Why, to be sure, my lord, she is a four own power; they master the wisest of us. very good girl.

Pat. Pray, pray, my lord, talk not to Lord A. Poor old maa—but those are tears in this style: consider me as one destined by of satisfaction-Here, master Fairfield, to bring birth and fortune to the meanest condition and matters to a short conclusion, here is a bill offices. Let me conquer a heart, where pride of a thousand pounds.-Portion your daughter and vanity have usurped an improper rule; with what you think convenient of it. and learn to know myself.

Fair. A thousand pounds, my lord! Pray Lord A. Or possibly, Patty, you love some excuse me; excuse me, worthy sir; too much one so much above you, you are afraid to has been done already, and we have no pre-own it-If so, be his rank what it will, he is tensions

to be envied: for the love of a woman of virLord A. I insist upon your taking it.—Put tue, beauty, and sentiment, does honour to a it and say no more.

monarch.—What means that downcast look, Fair. Well

, my lord, if it must be so: but those tears, those blushes ? Dare you not conindeed, indeed

fide in me?-Do you think, Patty, you have Lord A. In this I only fulfil what I am sa- a friend in the world would sympathize with tisfied would please my mother. As to my- you more sincerely than 1? self, I shall take upon me all the expenses of Pat. What shall I answer? [Aside]-No, Patty's wedding, and have already given orders my lord; you have ever treated me with a about it.

kindness, a generosity of which none but minds Fair. Alas, sir, you are too good, Ino ge- like yours are capable: you have been my innerous ; but I fear we shall not be able to structor, my adviser, my protector: but, my profit of your kind intentions, unless you will lord, you have been too good: when our sucondescend to speak a little to Pally. periors forget the distance between us, we are Lord A. flow speak!

sometimes led to forget it too: had you been Fair. Why, my lord, I thought we had less condescending, perhaps I had been happier. pretty well ordered all things concerning this Lord A. And have I, Patty, have I made you marriage; but all on a sudden the girl has unhappy; , who would sacrifice my own fe

into her head not to have the farmer, licity to secure yours?





marry the

Pal. I beg, my lord, you will suffer me to!. Giles. If his lordship's bonour would be so be gone: only believe me sensible of all your kind, I would acknowledge the favour as far favours, though unworthy of the smallest. as in me lay.

Lord A. How unworthy?-You merit every Sir H. Let me speak-[Takes Lord Aimthing;

; my respect, my esteem, my friendship, worth aside] a word or two; in your lordand

my love ! - Yes, I repeat, I avow it: your ship's ear, beauty, your modesty, your understanding, has Theo. Well, I do like this gipsy scherne made a conquest of my heart. But what a prodigiously, if we can but put it into execuworld do we live in! ihat while I own this, iion as happily as we have contrived it. while I own a passion for you, founded on the justest, the noblest basis, I must at the

Re-enter Party. same time confess the fear of that world, its So, my dear Patty, you see I am come to taunts, its reprpaches.

relurn your visit very soon; but this is only Pat. Ah, sir, think better of the creature a call en passant-will you be at home after you have raised, than to suppose I ever en- dinner ? iertained a hope tending to your dishonour: Pat. Certainly, madam, whenever you conwould that be a return for the favours I have descend to honour me so far; but it is what received ? I am unfortunate, my lord, but not I cannot expect. criminal.

Theo. O'fie, wby notLord A. Patty, we are both unfortunate: Giles. Your servant, miss Patly. for my own part, I know not what to say to Pat. Farmer, your servant. you, or what to propose to myself.

Sir H. Here, you goodman delver, I have Pat. Then, my lord, 'tis mine to act as I done your business ; my lord has spoke, and ought; yet while I am honoured with a place your fortune's made: a thousand pounds at in your esteem, imagine me not insensible of present, and better ibings to come; bis lordso high a distinction, or capable of lightly turn-ship says he will be your friend. ing my thoughts towards another.

Giles. I do hope, then, miss Pat will make Lord A. How cruel is my situation!-I am all up. here, Palty, to command you

Sir H. Miss Pat, make up; stand out of the man who has given you so much uneasiness. way, I'll make it up.

Pat. My lord, I am convinced it is for your credit and my safely it should be so: I hope Quintetto.---SIR Harry SYCAMORE, LORD I bave not so ill profited by the lessons of AIMWORTH, Patty, Giles, and "HEODOSIA. your noble mother, but I shall be able to do Sir H. The quarrels of lovers, adds me! my duty, wherever I am called to it: this will

they're a jest; be' my first support; time and reflection will

Come hither, ye blockhead, come complete the work.


So now let us leave them together.
Cease, oh, cease to overwhelm me Lord A, Farewell, then!
With excess of bounty rare;


For ever!
What am I? What have I? tell me, Giles.

Irow and protest,
To deserve your meanest care ?

'Twas kind of his bonour, 'Gainst our fate in vain's resistance,

To gain thus upon ber;
Let me then no grief disclose;

We're so much bebolden it can't But, resign'd at humble distance,

be exprest. Offer vows for your repose.

[Exit. Theo. I feel something here, Enter Sır Harry SYCAMORE, TheodosIA,

'Twixt hoping and fear:

Haste, haste, friendly night, and GILES.

To shelter our flightSir H. No justice of peace, no bailiffs, no Lord A.) A thousand distractions are rendhead-borough!

Pat. B
Lord A. What's the matter, sir Harry? Pat.
Sir H. The matter, my lord-While I was Giles.

Oh dear! examining the construction of the mill with- Sir H. Why, miss, will you out, for I bave some small notion of mechan

you're spoke to, or not? ics, miss Sycamore had like to have been

Must I stand in waiting, run away with by a gipsy man.

While you're here a prating? Theo. Dear papa, how can you talk so ? A. Did not I tell you it was at my own desire

Theo. May ev'ry felicity fall to your lot? the poor

fellow went to show me the canal ? Giles. She court'sies!-Look there, Sir H. Hold your tongue, miss. I don't

What a shape, what an air!-know you had to let him come ALI.

How happy! how wretched! bow near you at all: we have stayed so long too:

tir'd am I! your mamma gave us but half an hour, and

Your lordship's obedient; your * she'll be frightened out of her wits-she'll think

vant; good by. [Escamb some accident has happened to me.

ACT III. Lord A. I'll wait upon you

when low; it seems his mistress has conceived some Sir H. O! but, my lord, here's a poor fel- Scene I.—The Portico to LORD AIATORIA'S

House. disgust against him; pray has her father spoke Enter Lord Almworth, Sir Haray, and to you to interpose your authority in his be


Lady S. A wretch! a vile inconsiderale


ing my breast

Oh mercy,

mind when

any business

you please.

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wretch! coming of such a race as mine; and jof borses in all England (but that he did only having an example like me before her! now and then for his amusement)—And he

Lord A. I beg, madam, you will not disquiet used to say, my lord, that the female sex were yourself

: you are told here, that a gentleman good for nothing but to bring forth children, lately arrived from London has been about and breed disturbances. the place to-day; that he has disguised him- Lord A. The ladies were very little obliged self like a gipsy, came hither, and had some to your ancestor, sir Harry: but for my part, conversation with your daughter; you are I bave a more favourable opinioneven told, that there is a design formed for Lady S. [Within] Sir Harry! Sir Harry! their going off together; but possibly there Sir H. You are in the wrong, my lord: may be some mistake in all this.

with submission, you are really in the wrong. Sir H. Ay but, my lord, the lad tells us the

[Exit. gentleman's name: we bave seen the gipsies;

Enler FAIRFIELD. and we know she has had a bankering

Lady S. Sir Harry, my dear, why will you Lord A. How now, master Fairfield, what put in your word, when you hear others brings you here? speaking --1 protest, my lord, I'm in such con- Fair. I am come, my lord, to thank you fusion, I know not what to say: I can bardly for your bounty to me and my daughter ihis support myself.

morning, and most humbly, to entreat your Lord A. This gentleman, it seems, is at a lordship to receive it at our hands again. little inn at the bottom of the bill.

Lord A. Ay-why, what's the matier ? Sir H. I wish it was possible to have a file Fair. I don't know, my lord: it seems your of muskeleers, my lord; I could bead them generosity to my poor girl has been noised myself, being in ihe militia; and we would go about the neighbourhood; and some evil-minded and seize him directly.

people have put it into the young man's head Lord A. Softly, my dear sir; let us proceed lihat was to marry ber, that you never would with a little less violence in this matter, I be- have made her a present so much above her seech you. We should first see the young deserts and expectations, if it had not been lady-Where is miss Sycamore, madam? upon some naughty account: now, my lord,

Lady S. Really, my lord, I don't know; 1 I am a poor man 'tis true, and a mean one; saw her go into the garden about a quarter but I and my father, and my father's father, of an hour ago, from our chamber window. have lived tenants upon your lordship's estate,

Sir H. Into the garden! perhaps she bas got where we have always been known for honest an inkling of our being informed of this affair, men; and it shall never be said, that Fairfield, and is gone to throw herself into the pond. the miller, became rich in bis old days, by the Despair, my lord, makes girls do terrible things. wages of his child's shame. T'was but the Wednesday before we left Lon- Lord A. What then, master Fairfield, do don, that I saw, taken out of Rosamond's- you believepond, in St. James's Park, as likely a young Fair. No, my lord, no, heaven forbid: but woman as ever you would desire to set your when I consider the sum, it is too much for eyes on, in a new callimancoe petticoat, and us; it is indeed, my lord, and enough to make a pair of silver buckles in her shoes. bad folks talk: besides, my poor girl is greatly

Lord A. I hope there is no danger of any alter'd; sbe us'd to be the life of every place such fatal accident happening at present; but she came into; but since her being ai bome, will you oblige me, sir Harry?

I have seen nothing from her but sadness and Sir H. Surely, my lord

watery eyes. Lord A. Will you commit the whole direc- Lord Ă. The farmer then refuses to marry tion of this affair' to my prudence ?

Pally, nol withstanding their late reconciliation? Sir H. My dear, you hear what his lordship Fuir. Yes, my lord, he does indeed; and says.

has made a wicked noise, and used us in a Lady S. Indeed, my lord, I am so much very base manner: I did not think farmer asham'd, I don't know what to answer; the Giles would have been so ready to beliere fault of my daughter

such a thing of us. Lord A. Don't mention it, madam; the fault Lord A. Well

, master Fairfield, I will not bas been mine, who have been innocently the press on you a donation, the rejection of which occasion of a young lady's transgressing, a does you so much credit; you may take my point of duty and decorum, which otherwise word, however, that your fears upon this ocshe would never have violated. But if you, casion are entirely groundless: but this is not and sir Harry, will walk in and repose your enough; as I have been the means of losing selves, I hope to settle every thing to the ge- your daughter one busband, it is but just i peral satisfaction.

should get her another; and, since the farmer Lady S. Come in, sir Harry. [E.rit. is so scrupulous, there is a young man in the

Lord A. I am sure, my good friend, had I house here, whom I have some influence over, known that I was doing a violence to miss and I darc say he will be less squeamish. Sycamore's inclinations, in the happiness I Fair. To be sure, my lord, you have, in proposed to myself,

all honest ways, a right to dispose of me and Sir H. My lord, 'tis all a case-My grand- mine as you think proper. father, by the mother's side, was a very sen- Lord Å. Go then immediately, and bring sible man-he was elected knight of the shire Patty bither; I shall not be easy till I have in fire successive parliaments, and died high given you entire satisfaction. But, stay and sheriff of his county-a man of fine parts, fine take a letter, which I am stepping into my talents, and one of the most curiousest dockersludy to write: I'll order a chaise to be got


Evry motion keep in


A I R.

ready, that you may go back and forward, pretending you were struck blind by thunder with greater expedition. [E.xit Fairfield. and lightning.

Fan. Pray don't be angry, Ralph.

Ralph. Yes, but I will though: spread your
Let me fly-hence, tyrant fashion! cobwebs to catch flies; I am an old wasp,

Teach to servile minds your law; and don't value them bullon,
Curb in them each gen'rous passion,
Shall I, in thy trammels going,


you meet a lender creature,
Quit' the idol of my heart;

Neat in limb, and fair in feature;
While it beats, all fervent, glowing? Full of kindness and good nature,

life I'll sooner part.

Prove as kind again to sbe:
Scene II.--A Village.

Happy mortal to possess her!

In your bosom warm and press her; Enter Ralph, Fanny following.

Morning, noon, and night caress her,
Fan. Ralph, Ralph!

And be fond as fond can be.
Ralph. What do you want with me, eh?
Fan. Lord, I never knowed such a man as

But if one you meet that's frow-ard,
you are, since I com'd into the world; a body Saucy; jilting, and untow-ard,
can't speak to you, but you falls straightways

Should you act the whining coward,

'Tis to mend her ne'er the wil: into a passion: I followed you up from the

Nothing's tough enough to bind her; house, only you run so, there was no such a thing, as overtaking you, and I have been wait- Then agog when once you find her, ing ihere at the back door ever so long.

Let her go and never mind ber; Ralph. Well, and now you may go and

Heart alive, you're fairly quit. [E.rit. wait at the fore door, if you like it: but I fore- Fan. I wish I had a draught of water. I warn you and your gang not to keep lurk-don't know what's come over me; I bare no ing about our mill any longer; for if you do, more strength than a babe: a straw would I'll send the constable after you, and have fling me down.—He has a heart as hard as you, every mother's skin, clapt into the county any parish officer; I don't doubt now but he gaol: you are such a pack of thieves, one can't would stand by and see me whipt himself; hang so much as a rag to dry for you: it was and we shall all be whipt, and all through my but the other day that a couple of them came means—The devil run away wilb the gentle into our kitchen to beg a handful of dirty flour, man, and his twenty, guineas too, for leading to make them cakes, and before the wench me astray: if I had known Ralph would bare could turn about, they had whipped off three taken it so, I would have hanged myself bebraso candlesticks and a pot-lid.

Sore I would have said a word--but I thougb! Fan. Well, sure it was not I.

he had no more gall tban a pigeon. Ralph. Then you know, that old rascal that you call father, the last time I catch'd him

A IR. laying snares for the bares, I told him I'd in- O! what a simpleton was I, form the gamekeeper, and I'll expose all- To make my bed at such a rate ! Fan. Ah, dear Ralph, don't be angry with Now lay thee down, rain fool, and cry,

Thy truelove secks another mate. Ralph. Yes, I will be angry wilh you-what

No tears, alack, do you come nigh me for? – You shan't touch

Will call him back, me—There's the skirt of my coat, and if you

No tender words bis heart allure; do but lay a finger on it, my lord's bailiff is

I could bile here in the court, and I'll call him and give

My tongue through spiteFan. If you'll forgive me, I'll go down on

Some plague bewitch'd me, that's for sure.

SCENE III.- A Room in FAIRFIELD's House. Ralph. I tell you I won't-No, no, follow your gentleman; or go live upon your old

Enter Giles, followed by Patty and

THEODOSIA. sare, crows and polecals, and sheep that die of the rot; pick ibe dead fowl off ihe dung- Giles. Why, what the plague's the matter hills, and quench your thirst at the next ditch, with you? What do you scold at me for? I 'tis the fittest liquor to wash down such dain- am sure I did not say an uncivil word as I ties—skulking about from barn to barn, and do know of: I'll be judged by the young lady lying upon wet straw, on commons, and in if I did. green lanes-go and be whipt from parish to Pat. 'Tis very well, farmer; all I desire is parish, as you used to be,

that you will leave the bouse: you see my Fan. How can you talk so unkina ? father is not at home at present; when he is, Ralph. And see whether you will get what if you have any thing to say, you know wbere will keep you as I did, by telling of fortunes, to come. and coming with pillows under your apron, Giles. Enough said; I don't want to stay among the young farmers wives, io make be- in the house, not I; and I don't much care lieve you are a breeding, with the Lord Al- if I had never come into it. mighty bless you, sweet mistress, you cannot Theo. For shame, farmer! Down on your tell bow soon it may be your own case. You knees, and beg miss Fairfield's pardon for tbe know I am acquainted with all your tricks outrage you have been guilty of. and how you turn up the wbites of your eyes, Giles. Beg pardon, miss, for what? - leed,


you to him.

my knees.

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that's well enough ; why I am my own master, and equip myself--All here is in such con-
ben't I?-If I have no mind to marry, there's fusion, there will no notice be taken.
no harm in that, I hope: 'tis only changing Mer. Do so; I'll take care nobody shall in-
hands. This morning she would not have me, terrupt you in the progress of your metamor-
and now I won't have she.

phosis (She goes in) - and if you are not
Pat. Have you!- Heavens and earth! I tedious, we may walk off without being seen
would prefer á state of beggary a thousand by any one.
times beyond any thing I could enjoy with Theo. [Within] Ha, ha, ha!-What a con-
you: and be assured, if ever I was seemingly course of aloms are here! though, as I live,
consenting to such a sacrifice, nothing should they are a great deal better than I expected.
have compelled me to it but the cruelly of my Mer. Well, pray make haste; and don't

imagine yourself at your toilette now, where Giles. O, as for that I believes you; but mode prescribes two hours for what reason you see the gudgeon would not bite, as I told would scarce allow three minutes. you a bit agone, you know: we farmers never Theo. Have patience; the outward garment love to reap whai we don't sow.

is on already: and I'll assure you a very good Pat . You brutish fellow, how dare you talk-stuff

, only a little the worse for the mending. Giles. So, now she's in her tantrums agin,l. Mer. Imagine it embroidery, and consider and all for no manner of yearthly thing. it is your wedding-suit.—Come, how far have

Pat. But be assured my lord will punish you got? you severely for daring to make free with his Thro. Stay; you don't consider there's some

contrivance necessary.- Here goes the apron, Giles. Who made free with it? Did I ever lounced and furbelow'd with a witness-Alas! mention my lord ? 'Tis a cursed lie.

alas! it has no strings! what shall I do? Come, Theo, Bless me, farmer!

no matter; a couple of pins will serve — And Giles. Why it is, miss-and I'll make her now the cap-oh, mercy, here's a hole in the prove her words-Then what does she mean crown of it large enough to thrust my head by being punished ? I am not afraid of nobo- through. dy, nor beholding to nobody, that I know of; Mer. That you'll hide with your straw hat; while I pays my rent, my money, I believe, or if you should nol-What, not ready yet? is as good as another's: 1) 'egad, if it goes Theo. Que minute more — Yes, now the ubere, think there be those deserve to be work's accomplish'd. punished more than I.

[She comes out of the Closet disguised. Pat. Was there ever so unforlunale a creature, pursued as I am by distresses and vexa- Re-enter Giles, with FAIRFIELD. tions?

Mer. Plague, here's somebody coming. Theo. My dear Palty — See, farmer, you

[Retires with Theodosia. hare thrown her into tears.

Fair. As to the past, farmer, 'tis past; I Giles. Why then let her cry.

bear no malice for any thing thou hast said. Theo. Pray be comforted.

Giles. Why, master Fairfield, you do know

I bad a great regard for miss Patly; but when AIR.-PATTY.

I came to consider all in all, I finds as how Oh leave me, in pity! The falschood I scorn; it is not advisable to change my condition

For slander the bosom untainted defies: But rudeness and insult are not to be borne, Fair. Friend Giles, thou art in the right; Though offer'd by wretches we've sense to marriage is a serious point, and can't be con

despise. [Exit Theodosia. sidered too warily:-Ha, who have we here? Of woman defenceless how cruel the fate! -Shall I never keep my house clear of these

Pass ever so cautious, so blameless her way, vermin?-Look to the goods there, and give Ill nature and envy lurk always in wait, me a horsewhip-by the lord Harry, I'll make And innocence falls to their fury a prey. an example-Come here, lady Lighifingers, let


. me see wbat thou hast stolen.

Mer. Hold, miller, hold !
Re-enter THEODOSIA, with Mervin.

Fair. O gracious goodness! sure I know Theo. You are a pretty gentleman, are not this face-miss-- young madam Sycamoreyou, lo suffer a lady' to be at a rendezvous Mercy heart, here's a disguise! before you?

Theo. Discover'd!
Mer. Difficulties, my dear, and dangers-

Mer. Miller, let me speak to you.
None of the company had two suits of apparel;

Theo. What ill fortune is this! so I was obliged to purchase a rag of one,

Giles. Ill fortune-miss! I think there be and a tatter from another, at the expense of nothing but crosses and misfortunes of one ten times the sum they would fetch at the kind or other.

Fair. Money to me, sir! not for the world; Theo. Well, where are they?

you want no friends but what you have alMer. Here, in this bundle - and though I ready-Lack-a-day, lack-a-day, see how luckily say it, a very decent habiliment, if you have I came in; I believe you are the gentleman to arí enough io stick the parts togeiher: I've whom I am charged to give this, on the part been watching till the coast was clear to bring of my lord Aimworth - Bless you, dear sir, them to you.

go up to his honour with my young ladyTheo. Let me see-I'll slip into this closet there is a chaise waiting at the door to carry

you-I and my daughter will take another 1) Symploms of English liberty.



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yet awhile.


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