justice of peace, who is lord of the manorHaw, Come, come, never mind the act; let me tell you, this is a very proper, a very useful meeting; I want a servant or two myself, I must go see what your market affords; and you shall go, and the girls, my little Lucy and the other young rogue, and we'll make a day on't as well as the rest.

Luc. So! give it me.

[Reads the Letter to herself. Hodge. Lord a inercy! how my arm achs with beating that plaguy beast: I'll be hang'd if I won'na' rather ha' thrash'd half a day, than ha' ridden her.

Luc. Well, Hodge, you have done your business very well,

Jus. W. I wish, master Hawthorn, I could| Hodge. Well, have not I now? teach you to be a little more sedate: why| Luc. Yes-Mr. Eustace tells me in this letter, won't you take pattern by me, and consider that he will be in the green lane, at the other your dignity? Odds heart, I don't wonder end of the village, by twelve o'clock - You you are not a rich man; you laugh too much know where he came before. ever to be rich.

Haw. Right, neighbour Woodcock! health, good humour, and competence, is my motto: and, if my executors have a mind, they are welcome to make it my epitaph.

Hodge. Been, ay, I ha' been far enough, an that be all: you never knew any thing fall out so crossly in your born days.

Luc.. Why, what's the matter?

Hodge. Ay, ay.

Luc. Well, you must go there; and wait till he arrives, and watch your opportunity to introduce him, across the fields, into the little summer-house, on the left side of the garden. Hodge. That's enough.

Luc. But take particular care that nobody sees you.

Hodge. I warrant you.

Luc. Nor for your life drop a word of it to any mortal.

Hodge. Never fear me.
Luc. And, Hodge—

AIR.-HOdge.

Well, well, say no more;
Sure you told me before;
I see the full length of my tether;
Do you think I'm a fool,

That I need go to school?

I can spell you and put you together.
A word to the wise,

Will always suffice;
Addsniggers, go talk to your parrot;
I'm not such an elf,

Though I say it myself,

But I know a sheep's head from a carrot.

[Exit.

Hodge. Why you know, I dare not take a horse out of his worship's stables this morning, for fear it should be missed, and breed questions; and our old nag at home was so cruelly! beat i'th' hoofs, that, poor beast, it had not a foot to set to ground; so I was fain to go to Luc. How severe is my case! Here I am farmer Ploughshare's, at the Grange, to bor- obliged to carry on a clandestine correspondence row the loan of his bald filly; and, would you with a man in all respects my equal, because think it? after walking all that way-de'el from the oddity of my father's temper is such, that me, if the crossgrained toad did not deny me I dare not tell him I have ever yet seen the the favour.

person I should like to marry-But perhaps he has quality in his eye, and hopes, one day or other, as I am his only child, to match me with a title-vain imagination!

AIR.

Cupid, god of soft persuasion,

Take the helpless lover's part:
Seize, oh seize some kind occasion,
To reward a faithful heart.

Justly those we tyrants call,
Who the body would enthral;
Tyrants of more cruel kind,
Those, who would enslave the mind.
What is grandeur? foe to rest,
Childish mummery at best.
Happy I in humble state;
Catch, ye fools, the glittering bait.

SCENE III-A Field with a Stile.

Enter HODGE, followed by MADGE. Hodge. What does the wench follow me for? Odds flesh, folk may well talk, to see you

I wish I was a maid again,
And in my own country.

[Exit.

dangling after me every where, like a tantony pig): find some other road, can't you; and don't keep wherreting me with your nonsense. SCENE IV.-A Green, with the Prospect of Madge. Nay, pray you, Hodge, stay, and let me speak to you a bit.

Hodge. Well, what sayn you?

Madge. Dear heart, how can you be barbarous? and is this the way you serve me after all; and won't you keep your word, Hodge? Hodge. Why no I won't, I tell you; I have chang'd my mind.

Madge. Nay but surely, surely - Consider Hodge, you are obligated in conscience to make me an honest woman.

Hodge. Obligated in conscience! How am I obligated?

Madge. Because you are; and none but the basest of rogues would bring a poor girl to shame, and afterwards leave her to the wide world.

a Village, and the Representation of a Statute or Fair.

Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK, HAWTHORN, MRS. DEBORAH WOODCOCK, LUCINDA, ROSETTA, young MEADOWS, HODGE, and several country People.

Hodge. This way, your worship, this way. Why don't you stand aside there? Here's his worship a coming.

I'll

a

Countrymen. His worship!

Jus. W. Fie, fie, what a crowd's this! Odd, put some of them in the stocks. [Striking Fellow] Stand out of the way, sirrah. Haw. For shame, neighbour. Well, my lad, are you willing to serve the king?

Countryman. Why, can you list me? Serve the king, master? no, no, I pay the king, that's enough for me. Ho, ho, ho!

Haw. Well said, Sturdy-boots.

Jus. W. Nay, if you talk to them, they'll answer you.

Hodge. Bring you to shame! Don't make me speak, Madge; don't make me speak. Madge. Yes do, speak your worst. Hodge. Why then, if you go to that, you were fain to leave your own village down in the west, for a bastard you had by the clerk| Haw. I would have them do so, I like they of the parish, and I'll bring the man shall say should.-Well, madam, is not this a fine sight? it to your face. I did not know my neighbour's estate had Madge. No, no, Hodge, 'tis no such thing, been so well peopled.-Are all these his own 'tis a base lie of farmer Ploughshare's-But I tenants?

know what makes you false-hearted to me, Mrs. D. More than are good of them, Mr. that you may keep company with young ma- Hawthorn. I don't like to see such a parcel dam's waiting-woman; and I am sure she's of young bussies fleering with the fellows. no fit body for a poor man's wife. Haw. There's a lass. [Beckoning to a Hodge. How should you know what she's country Girl]-Come hither, my pretty maid. fit for. She's fit for as much as you, may-What brings you here? [Chucking her under hap; don't find fault with your betters, Madge. the Chin] Do you come to look for a service?

Enter young MEADOWS.

Oh! master Thomas, I have a word or two to say to you; pray did not you go down the village one day last week with a basket of something upon your shoulder?

Country G. Yes, an't please you.

Haw. Well, and what place are you for?
Country G. All work, an't please you.
Jus. W. Ay, ay, I don't doubt it; any work
you'll put her to.

Mrs. D. She looks like a brazen one- -Go, bussy.

Young M. Well, and what then? Hodge. Nay, not much, only the hostler at Haw. Here's another. [Catching a Girl that the Greenman was saying, as how there was goes by] What health, what bloom!-This is a passenger at their house as see'd you go by, nature's work; no art, no daubing. Don't be and said he know'd you; and axt a mort of asham'd, child; those cheeks of thine are enough questions-So I thought I'd tell you. to put a whole drawing-room out of counteYoung M. The devil! ask questions about nance. me! I know nobody in this part of the coun- Hodge. Now, your honour, now the sport try; there must be some mistake in it -Come will come: The gut-scrapers are here, and hither, Hodge. [Exit with Hodge. some among them are going to sing and dance. Madge. A nasty, ungrateful fellow, to use Why there's not the like of our statute, mun, me at this rate, after being to him as I have.-in five counties; others are but fools to it. Well, well, I wish all poor girls would take Servant-man. Come, good people, make a warning by my mishap, and never have nothing ring; and stand out, fellow servants, as many to say to none of them.

AIR.

How happy were my days, till now!
I ne'er did sorrow feel;

I rose with joy to milk my cow,
Or turn my spinning-wheel.
My heart was lighter than a fly,
Like any bird I sung,
Till he pretended love, and I
Believ'd his flatt'ring tongue.
Oh the fool, the silly, silly fool,
Who trusts what man may be;
1) St. Anthony's pig.

of you as are willing, and able, to bear a
bob 1). We'll let my masters and mistresses
see we can do something at least; if they
won't hire us, it shan't be our fault. Strike
up the Servants' Medley.

MEDLEY and CHORUS.
Housem. I pray ye, gentles, list to me:
I'm young, and strong, and clean, you see
I'll not turn tail to any she,

For work that's in the county.
Of all your house the charge I take,
I wash, I scrub, I brew, I bake;
And more can do than here I'll speak,
Depending on your bounty.

Footm. Behold a blade, who knows his trade

In chamber, hall, and entry:
And what though here I now appear,
I've serv'd the best of gentry.
A footman would you have,

I can dress, and comb, and shave;
For I a handy lad am:

On a message I can go,
And slip a billet-doux,
With your humble servant, madam.
Cookm. Who wants a good cook, my hand
they must cross;

For plain wholesome dishes I'm ne'er at a loss;
And what are your soups, your ragouts, and
your sauce,

Compar'd to the beef of old England,
Compar'd to old English roast beef?
Cart. If you want a young man, with a
true honest heart,

Who knows how to manage a plough and
cart,

a

Here's one for your purpose, come take me
and try;
You'll say you ne'er met with a better nor I.
Ge ho, Dobbin, etc.
Chorus. My masters and mistresses, hither

repair;
What servants you want, you'll find in our fair;
Men and maids fit for all sorts of stations
there be;

And, as for the wages, we shan't disagree.

ACT II.

me.

Luc. My father, and my aunt! Eust. The devil! What shall we do? Luc. Take no notice of them, only observe -[Speaks aloud to Eustace] Upon my word, sir, I don't know what to say to it, unless the justice was at home; he is just stepp'd into the village with some company; but, if you'll sit down a moment, I dare swear he will return-[Pretends to see the Justice] —O! sir, here is my papa!

Jus. W. Here is your papa, hussy! Who's this you have got with you? Hark you, sirrab, who are you, ye dog? and what's your business here?

Eust. Sir, this is a language I am not used to. Jus. W. Don't answer me, you rascal—I am a justice of the peace; and if 1 hear a word out of your mouth, I'll send you to jail, for all your lac'd hat.

Mrs. D. Send him to jail, brother, that's right. Jus. W. And how do you know it's right? How should you know any thing's right?Sister Deborah, you are never in the right. Mrs. D. Brother, this is the man I have been telling you about so long.

Jus. W. What man, goody Wiseacre? Mrs. D. Why the man your daughter has an intrigue with: but I hope you will not believe it now, though you see it with your own eyes-Come, hussy, confess, and don't let your father make a fool of himself any longer.

Luc. Confess what, aunt? This gentleman is a music-master: he goes about the country,

SCENE I.-A Parlour in JUSTICE WOOD- teaching ladies to play and sing; and has been

COCK'S House.

Enter LUCINDA and EUSTACE.
Luc. Well, am I not a bold adventurer, to

bring you into my father's house at noon-day?
Though, to say the truth, we are safer here
than in the garden; for there is not a human

creature under the roof besides ourselves.

Eust. Then why not put our scheme into execution this moment? I have a post-chaise ready.

Luc. Fie: how can you talk so lightly? I protest I am afraid to have any thing to do with you; and my aunt Deborah says

Eust. What! by all the rapture my heart now feels

recommended to instruct me; I could not turn him out when he came to offer his service; and did not know what answer to give him till I saw my papa.

Jus. W. A music-master?

Eust. Yes, sir, that's my profession.
Mrs. D. It's a lie, 'young man; it's a lie.
Brother, he is no more a music-master, than
I am a music-master.

Jus. W. What then you know better than the fellow himself, do you? and you will be wiser than all the world?

Mrs. D. Brother, he does not look like a music-master.

Jus. W. He does not look! ha! ha! ha! Was ever such a poor stupe! Well, and what Luc. Oh, to be sure, promise and vow; it does he look like, then? But I suppose you sounds prettily, and never fails to impose upon mean he is not dressed like a music-master. a fond female. Why, you silly wretch, these whipper-snappers Eust. Well, I see you've a mind to divert set up for gentlemen now-a-days, and give yourself with me; but I wish I could prevail themselves as many airs as if they were people on you to be a little serious. of quality.-Hark you, friend, I suppose Luc. Seriously then, what would you desire you don't come within the vagrant act? You me to say? I have promised to run away with have some settled habitation-Where do you you; which is as great a concession as any live? reasonable lover can expect from his mistress. Eust. Yes; but, you dear provoking angel, you have not told me when you will run away with me.

Luc. Why that, I confess, requires some consideration.

Eust. Yet remember, while you are deliberating, the season, now so favourable to us, may elapse, never to return.

Mrs. D. It's an easy matter for him to tell you a wrong place.

Jus. W. Sister Deborah, don't provoke me. Mrs. D. I wish, brother, you would let me examine him a little.

Jus. W. You shan't say a word to him, you shan't say a word to him.

Mrs. D. She says he was recommended here, brother; ask him by whom.

Jus. W. No, I won't now, because you

Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK and MRS. DEBO- desire it.
RAH WOODCOCK.

Jus. W. Hoity-toity; who have we here?

Luc. If my papa did ask the question, aunt, it would be very easily resolved.

Mrs. D. Who bid you speak, Mrs. Nimblechops? I suppose the man has a tongue in his head to answer for himself.

Then hoity-toity,

Whisking, frisking,

Green was her gown upon the grass; Jus. W. Will nobody stop that prating old Oh! such were the joys of our dancing days. woman's mouth for me? Get out of the room. Eust. Very well, sir, upon my word. Mrs. D. Well, so I can, brother; I don't Jus. W. No, no, I forget all those things want to stay: but, remember, I tell you, you now; but I could do a little at them once;-will make yourself ridiculous in this affair: Well, stay and eat your dinner, and we'll for through your own obstinacy, you will have talk about your teaching the girl-Lucy, take your daughter run away with, before your face. your master to your spinnet, and show him Jus. W. My daughter! who will run away what you can do-I must go and give some with my daughter?" orders; then hoity-toity, etc. [Exit. Mrs. D. That fellow will. Luc. My sweet, pretty papa, your most obeJus. W. Go, go, you are a wicked, censo- dient humble servant; ha, ha, ha! was ever so whimsical an accident? Well, sir, what do

rious woman.

Luc. Why sure, madam, you must think you think of this? me very forward, indeed.

Eust. Think of it! I am in amaze.

Jus. W. Ay, she judges of others by herself; Luc. O your awkwardness! I was frightenI remember when she was a girl, her mother ed out of my wits, lest you should not take dared not trust her the length of her apron- the hint; and, if I had not turned matters so string; she was clambering upon every fel-cleverly, we should have been utterly undone. low's back.

Mrs. D. I was not.

Jus. W. You were.

Luc. Well, but why so violent?

AIR.

Believe me, dear aunt,
If you rave thus and rant,
You'll never a lover persuade;
The men will all fly,
And leave you to die,

Oh, terrible chance! an old maid.

How happy the lass,

Must she come to this pass,

Who ancient virginity 'scapes!
"Twere better on earth

Have five brats at a birth,
Than in hell be a leader of apes.
[Exit Mrs. D.

Jus. W. Well done, Lucy, send her about her business; a troublesome, foolish creature, does she think I want to be directed by her? -Come hither, my lad, you look tolerable honest.

Eust. I hope, sir, I shall never give you cause to alter your opinion.

Eust. 'Sdeath! why would you bring me into the house? we could expect nothing else: besides, since they did surprise us, it would have been better to have discovered the truth.

Luc. Yes, and never have seen one another afterwards. I know my father better than you, do; he has taken it into his head I have no inclination for a husband; and let me tell you that is our best security; for if once he has said a thing, he will not be easily persuaded to the contrary.

Eust. And pray what am I to do now?

Luc. Why, as I think all danger is pretty well over, since he hath invited you to dinner with him, stay; only be cautious of your be haviour; and, in the mean time, I will consider what is next to be done.

Eust. Had not I better go to your father? Luc. Do so, while I endeavour to recover myself a little out of the flurry this affair has put me in. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Garden. Enter ROSETTA, musing. Ros. If ever poor creature was in a pitiable condition, surely I am. The devil take this fellow, I cannot get him out of my head; and Jus. W. No, no, I am not easily deceived, yet I would fain persuade myself I don't care I am generally pretty right in my conjectures. for him: well, but surely I am not in love: -You must know, I had once a little notion let me examine my heart a little: I saw him of music myself, and learned upon the fiddle; kissing one of the maids the other day; I could I could play the Trumpet Minuet, and But- have boxed his ears for it, and have done tered Peas, and two or three tunes. I remem- nothing but find fault and quarrel with the ber, when I was in London, about thirty years girl ever since. Why was I uncasy at his ago, there was a song, a great favourite at toying with another woman? what was it to our club at Nando's Coffee-house; Jack Pickle me? Then I dream of him almost every night used to sing it for us, a droll fish! but 'tis an-but that may proceed from his being geneold thing, I dare swear you have heard of it rally uppermost in my thoughts all day :-Oh!

often.

worse and worse!-Well, he is certainly a pretty lad; he has something uncommon about him, considering his rank:-And now let me only put the case, if he was not a servant, would I, or would I not, prefer him to all the men I ever saw? Why, to be sure, if he was not a servant-In short, I'll ask myself no more questions, for the further I examine, the less reason I shall have to be satisfied.

AIR.

How bless'd the maid, whose bosom
No headstrong passion knows;

Her days in joy she passes, Her nights in calm repose. Where'er her fancy leads her, No pain, no fear invades her; But pleasure,

Without measure,

From every object flows.

Enter Young MEADOWS.

Ros. Vell, now I think I am somewhat easier: I am glad I have come to this expla Young M. Do you come into the garden, nation with him, because it puts an end to Mrs. Rosetta, to put my lilies and roses out things at once. of countenance; or, to save me the trouble of

Young M. Hold, Mrs. Rosetta, pray stay a watering my flowers, by reviving them? The moment-The airs this girl gives herself are sun seems to have hid himself a little, to give intolerable: I find now the cause of her beyou an opportunity of supplying his place. haviour; she despises the meanness of my conRos. Where could he get that now? he dition, thinking a gardener below the notice never read it in the Academy of Compliments. of a lady's waiting-woman: 'sdeath, I have a Young M. Come, don't affect to treat me good mind to discover myself to her. with contempt; I can suffer any thing better Ros. Poor 'wretch! he does not know what than that. In short, I love you; there is no to make of it: I believe he is heartily mortimore to be said: I am angry with myself for fied, but I must not pity him. it, and strive all I can against it; but, in spite of myself, I love you.

Ros. Really, Mr. Thomas, this is very improper language; it is what I don't understand; can't suffer it, and, in short, I don't like it. Young M. Perhaps you don't like me? Ros. Well, perhaps I don't.

Young M. Nay, hut 'tis not so; come, confess you love me.

Young M. It shall be so: I will discover myself to her, and leave the house directlyMrs. Rosetta-[Starting back]-Plague on it, yonder's the justice come into the garden!

Ros. O Lord! he will walk round this way: pray go about your business; I would not for the world he should see us together.

Young M. The devil take him; he's gone across the parterre, and can't hobble here this half hour: I must and will have a little con

Ros. Confess! indeed I shall confess no such thing : besides, to what purpose should I con- | versation with you. fess it?

Young M. Why, as you say, I don't know to what purpose; only, it would be a satisfaction to me to hear you say so; that's all. Ros. Why, if I did love you, I can assure you, you would never be the better for itWomen are apt enough to be weak! we cannot always answer for our inclinations, but it is in our power not to give way to them; and if I was so silly, I say if I was so indiscreet, which I hope I am not, as to entertain an improper regard, when people's circumstances are quite unsuitable, and there are obstacles in the way that cannot be surmounted—

Ros. Some other time.

Young M. This evening, in the greenhouse, at the lower end of the canal; I have something to communicate to you of importance Will you meet me there?

Bos. Meet you!

Young M. Ay; I have a secret to tell you. and I swear, from that moment, there shall be an end of every thing betwixt us.

Ros. Well, well, pray leave me now. Young M. You'll come then? Ros. I don't know, perhaps I may. Young M. Nay, but promise. Ros. What signifies promising; I may break Young M. Oh! to be sure, Mrs. Rosetta, to my promise—but, I tell you, I will. be sure: you are entirely in the right of it- Young M. Enough-Yet, before I leave you I-know very well you and I can never come let me desire you to believe, I love you more together. than ever man loved woman; and that when Ros. Well then, since that is the case, as I relinquish you, I give up all that can make I assure you it is, I think we had better be- my life supportable.

have accordingly.