orchard. Maid Bess, knight, went to market, you, Dick; and wife rambled into the orchard, and souse dropped into the fish-pond. We found her out next day; but she was dead as a herring; no help for that, Dick; buried her, though, hey, you? She was only daughter to Sir Tristram Muckworm, you; rich, enough, you, hey? Ecod, you, what does she do, you, but she falls in love with young Sleek, her father's chaplain, hey, you? Upon that, what does me, I, but slips on domine's robes, you, passed myself upon her for him, and we were tacked together, you, knight, hey, ecod? though I believe she never liked me: but what signifies that, hey, Dick? she was rich, you. But, come, let's leave the children together. Sir Gre. Sir, I wait on you. Sir Gre. Good now, good now, 'tis impossible. Har. Pox of ceremony! You, Dick, hey? Ecod, knight, I'll tell you a story. One of our ambassadors in France, you, a devilish polite fellow reckoned, Dick; ecod, yon, what does the king of France do, but, says he, I'll try the manners of this fine gentleman: so, knight, going into a coach, together, the king would have my lord go first: oh, an't please your majesty, can't indeed; you, hey, Dick? Upon which, what does me, the king, but he takes his arms thus, you, Dick; am I king of France, or you? Is it my coach, or yours? And so pushes him in thus, hey, Dick? Sir Gre. Good now, good now! he, he, he! Har. Ecod, Dick, I believe I have made a mistake here; I should have gone in first; hey, Dick? Knight, ecod, you beg pardon. Yes: your coach, not mine; your house, not mine; hey, knight? Sir Gre. Wonderful! A merry man, Mr. Jenkins. [Exeunt the two knights and JEN. Tim. Father and cousin are gone fath and sole ! Jenny. I fancy my lover is a little puzzled how to begin. Tim. How-fath and sole, I don't know what to say-How d'ye do, Miss Suck? Jenny. Pretty well, thank you. Tim. You have had a choice walk. 'Tis a rare day, fath and sole! Jenny. Yes; the day's well enough. Tim. Is your house a good way off here? Tim. That's a good long walk, fath! Jenny. I make nothing of it, and back again. Tim. Like enow. [Whistles. Jenny. [Sings. Tim. You have a rare pipe of your own, miss. Jenny. I can sing loud enough, if I have a mind; but father don't love singing. Tim. Like enow. [Whistles. Jenny. And I an't over-fond of whistling. Tim. Hey! ay, like enow; and I am a bitter bad singer. Jenny. Hey! ay, like enough. Jen. Your curiosity shall be immediately satisfied; but I must first have a word with Sir Penurious. Har. Well you what, hey?-any news, Dick? Jen. Better than you could hope; your rival is disposed of. Har. Disposed of! how? Jen. Married by this time, you rogue !-The woman that wanted him was no other than Mal Enter HARTOP as SIR PENURIOUS, and SIRly Pengrouse, who trudged it up all the way af : GREGORY Gazette. Har. And so, you knight, says he-you know, knight, what low dogs the ministers were, then how does your pot-a pot, you, that they put over the fire to boil broth and meat in-you have seen a pot, you knight? how does your pot boil these troublesome times? hey you! Ecod, my lord, says he, I don't know, I seldom go into my kitchen. A kitchen, you knight, is a place where they dress victuals, roast and boil, and so forth: Ecod, says he, I seldom go into the kitchen-But I suppose, the scum is uppermost still! Hey, you knight! what, ecod, hey? But where's your son, Sir Gregory? -Where is Sir Gre. Good now, good nowTim, Miss Sukey! lack-a-day! what is become of Tim? Jenny. Gone out a tiny bit; he'll be here presently. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now! Well, and how, Miss Sukey- -has Tim? has he, well? and what, you have-wonderful! Enter a Servant, with a letter. Ser. Sir, I was commanded to deliver this into your own hands, by Mr. Jenkins. Hur. Hey, you! what, a letter? ecod so! Sir Gre. Lack-a-day, Sir Penurious is busy. Well, miss, and did Tim do the thing! did he please you? Come, now, tell us the whole story: wonderful! rare news for dame Winny! ha, Tim's father's own son! But come, whisper -ay. " Har. I have only time to tell you, that your scheme is blasted: this instant I encountered Mrs. Penelope Trifle, with her neice; they will soon be with you.' So, then, all is over; but let us see what expedition will do- Well, you knight, hey? what, have they settled?-Is the girl willing? ter him, as Tim says: I have recommended them to my chaplain, and before this the business is done. Har. Bravissimo, you rogue! but how shall [ get off with the knight? Jen. Nay, that must be your contrivance. Har. I have it-Suppose I was to own the whole design to Sir Gregory, as our plau has not succeeded with his son; and, as he seems to have a tolerable regard for me, it is possible he may assist my scheme on Sir Penurious. Jen. 'Tis worth trying, however. comes. But he Sir Gre. Well, good now, Mr. Jenkins, have you seen Tim? I can't think where the boy— Har. 'Tis now time, Sir Gregory, to set you clear with respect to some particulars. I am no longer Sir Penurious Trifle, but your friend and relation, Jack Hartop. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now, cousin Hartop! as I am a living man-bey— Well, but, good now! how, Mr. Jenkins, hey? Jen. The story, Sir Gregory, is rather too long to tell you now: but in two words-my friend Hartop has very long had a passion for Miss Trifle, and was apprehensive your son's application would destroy his views-which in order to defeat, he assumed the character of Sir Penurious; but he is so captivated with your integrity and friendship, that he rather chooses to forego his own interest, than interrupt the happiness of your son. Sir Gre. Wonderful! good now, good now, that is kind! who could have thought it, cousin Hartop? lack-a-day! Well, but where's Tim? hey, good now! and who are you? Jen. This, sir, is Jenny, the handmaid of the house. Sir Gre. Wonderful! a pestilent hussy!Ah, Hartop, you are a wag! a pize of your pots, and your royal oaks! lack-a-day, who could ha' thought- -ah, Jenny, you're a-But where's Tim? Enter SIR GREGORY's servant. Sir Gre. Good now, good now! right as my leg! ab, Tim, little did I think-But, lack-a- Ser. Wounds, master! never stir alive if masday, I wonder where the boy is! let us seek ter Tim has na gone and married Mally Penhim. grouse ! Har. Agreed, you knight; hey, come. Sir Gre. Wonderful! how, sirrah, how! good R now, good now, cousin Hartop-Mally Pengrouse! Who the dickens is she? Ser. Master Timothy's sweetheart in Cornwall. Sir Gre. And how came she here? lack-aday, cousin! Ser. She tramped it up after master. Master Timothy is without, and says as how they be married. I wanted him to come in, but he's afraid you'd knook'n down. Sir Gre. Knock'n down! Good now, let me come at him! I'll—ah, rogue! Lack-a-day, cousin, show me where he is! I'll Har. Moderate your fury, good Sir Gregory; consider, it is an evil without a remedy. Sir Gre. But what will Dame Winny say? Good now, such a disparagement to-and, then, what will Sir Penurious say? lack-a-day, I am almost distracted! And you, you lubberly dog! why did not you-I'll-ah, cousin Hartop, cousin Hartop! good now, good now! Har. Dear sir, be calm; this is no such surprising matter; we have such instances in the news-papers every day. Sir Gre. Good now! no cousin, no. Har. Indeed, Sir Gregory, it was but last week that Lord Lofty's son married his mother's maid; and Lady Betty Forward run away, not a month ago, with her uncle's butler. Sir Gre. Wonderful! what, in the news?— Good now, that's some comfort, however; but what will Sir Penurious Har, As to that, leave him to me; I have a project to prevent his laughing at you, I'll war rant, Sir Gre. But how?-how, cousin Hartop, how? Har, Sir Gregory, do you think me your friend? Wait. The gentleman will wait on you presently. Would you choose any refreshment? Suck. A draught of ale, friend, for I am main dry. Mrs. Pen. Fie, fie, niece! is that liquor for a young lady? Don't disparage your family and breeding. The person is to be born that ever I was three-and-twenty. saw me touch any thing stronger than water till Suck. Troth, aunt, that is so long ago, that I think there's few people alive who can remem Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! ay, cousin, ay. Har. And would you, in return, serve me in ber what you did, then. a circumstance that can't injure yourself? Sir Gre. Good now, to be sure, cousin. Har. Will you, then, permit me to assume the figure of your son, and so pay my addresses to Miss Trifle? I was pretty happy in the imitation of her father; and if I could impose upon your sagacity, I shall find less difficulty with your brother knight. Sir Gre. Good now, Tim! ah, you could not touch Tim. Har. I warrant you. But, see, the young gentleman. Enter TIM. Sir Gre. Ah, Tim, Tim! little did 1---Good now, good now! Tim. I could not help it now, fath and sole: but if you'll forgive me this time, I'll never do so no more. Sir Gre. Well, well, if thee can'st forgive thyself, I can forgive thee; but thank my cousin Hartop. Mrs. Pen. How gillflirt? none of your fleers! I am glad here's a husband coming that will take you down: Your tantrums! You are grown too headstrong and robust for me. taken down the same way! -But, Mrs. Pen, Oh! you are a pertcareful, child: None of yoursee, your lover approaches. Now, Sukey, be Enter JENKINS, as SIR GREGORY, and HAR TOP, as TIM. Jen. Lack-a-day, lady! I rejoice to see you. Wonderful! and your niece! Tim, the ladies. Har. Your servant, mistress! I am glad to see you, Miss Suck. [Salutes her.] Fath and sole, mistress, Suck's a fine young woman, more or less. Suck. Yes, I am well enough, I believe. Jen. But, lady, where's my brother Trifle? where's Sir Penurious? Suck. Father's at home, in expectation of you; and aunt and I be come to town to make preparations. Jen. Ay, wonderful! Pray, lady, shall I, good now! crave a word in private? Tim, will you and your sweetheart draw back a little? Har. Yes, father. Come, miss, will you jog a -tiny bit this way! Suck. With all my heart. there'; there you will find one to do your business wonderful! matters will soon be managed within. Well, lady, this was, good now, so kind! Lack-a-day! I verily believe if dame Winny was dead, that I should be glad to lead up such another dance with you, lady. [Exeunt HAR. and SUCK. Mrs. Pen. You are, sir, something too preciJen. There is, lady, a wonderful affair has pitate: Nor would there, did circumstances happened, good now! Son Tim has fallen in love concur, as you insinuate, be so absolute a certiwith a young woman at his uncle's, and 'tis part-tude, that I, who have rejected so many matches, ly to prevent bad consequences, that I am, lack- should instantaneously succumb. a-day! so hasty to match him: and one of my men, good now! tells me that he has seen the wench since we have been in town; she has fol-ed, that had not Penelope Trifle made irrefralowed us here, sure as a gun, lady! if Tim sees gable resolutions, she need not so long have prethe girl, he'll never marry your niece. served her family surname. Mrs. Pen. It is, indeed, Sir Gregory Gazette, a most critical conjuncture, and requires the most mature deliberation. Jen. Deliberation! lack-a-day, lady, whilst we deliberate the boy will be lost. Mrs. Pen. Why, Sir Gregory Gazette, what operations can we determine upon ? Jen. Lack-a-day, I know but one. Mrs. Pen. Administer your proposition, Sir Gregory Gazette: you will have my concurrence, sir, in any thing that does not derogate from the regulations of conduct; for it would be most preposterous in one of my character, to deviate from the strictest attention. Jen. Lack-a-day, lady!—no such matter is wanted. But, good now! could not we tack the young couple together directly? your brother and I have already agreed. Mrs, Pen. Are the previous preliminaries settled, Sir Gregory Gazette ? Jen. Good now! as firm as a rock, lady. Mrs. Pen. Why, then, to preserve your son, and accomplish the union between our families, I have no objections to the acceleration of their nuptials, provided the child is inclined, and a minister may be procured. : Jen. Wonderful! you are very good, good now! there has been one match already in the house to-day we may have the same parson. Here, Tim!- -and young gentlewoman! Well, miss! wonderful, and how? has Tim? hey, boy! Is not a miss a fine young lady? Har. Faith and sole, father, miss is a charming young woman; all red and white, like Mally-Hum! Jen. Hush, Tim! Well, and miss, how does my boy? he's an honest hearty lad? Has he, good now! had the art? How d'ye like him, young gentlewoman? Suck. Like'n! well enough, I think. Jen. Why, then, miss, with your leave, your aunt and I, here, have agreed, if you are willing, to have the wedding over directly. Suck. Gad! with all my heart. Ask the young man. Har. Faith and sole, just as you please; today, to-morrow, or when you will, more or less. Jen. Good now, good now! then, get you in Jen. Lack-a-day, lady, good now! I– Jen. Wonderful! why, I was only Mrs. Pen. Nor has the title of Lady Gazette such resplendent charms, or such bewitching allurements, as to throw me at once into the arms of Sir Gregory. Jen. Good now! who says Mrs. Pen. Could wealth, beauty, or titles superior to, perhaps Enter SIR GREGORY, ROGER, and TIM. Tim. Yes, indeed, father; Mr. Hartop knew on't as well as I, and Mr. Jenkins got us a parson. Sir Gre. Good now, good now! a rare couple of friends! But I'll be even with them! I'll marr their market! Master Jenkins, you have fobbed me finely. Jen. Lack-a-day, what's the matter now? Sir Gre. Come, come; none of your lack-adays! none of your gambols, nor your tricks to me: Good now, good now! give me my clothes! here, take your tawdry trappings! I have found you out at last: I'll be no longer your property. Jen. Wonderful; what's all this, lady? Good now, good now! what's here! a stage play? Sir Gre. Play me no plays; but give me my wig; and your precious friend, my loving cousin, pize on the kindred, let'n Jen. Good now, good now! what are these folks? as sure as a gun, they're mad. Sir Gre. Mad! no, no; we are neither mad nor fools: no thanks to you, though. Mrs. Pen. What is all this; can you unravel this perplexity, untwine this mystery, Sir Gregory Gazette Sir Gre. He Sir Gregory Gazette? Lack-aday, lady; you are tricked, imposed upon, bamboozled: Good now, good now! 'tis I am Sir Gregory Gazette. Mrs. Pen. How? Tim. Faith and sole, 'tis true, mistress; and I am his son Tim, and will swear it. Mrs. Pen. Why, isn't Mr. Timothy Gazette with my niece Susannah Trifle? Tim. Who, me! Lord, no, 'tis none of I; it is cousin Hartop in my cloaths. Mrs. Pen. What's this? and pray who- you may, madam, call me Jenkins. Come, Hartop, you may now throw off your disguise; the knight had like to have embarrassed us. Enter HARTOP and SUCK. Mrs. Pen. How, Mr. Jenkins! and would you, sir, participate of a plot to Har. Madam, in the issue, your family will, I hope, have no great reason to repent. I always had the greatest veneration for Miss Penelope Trifle's understanding; if the highest esteem for her virtues can entitle me to the honour of being regarded as her relation Mrs. Pen. Sir, I shall determine on nothing, till I am apprized of my brother's resolution. Hur. For that we must wait. Sir Gregory, I must entreat you and your son's pardon for some little liberties I have taken with you both. Mr. Jenkins, I have the highest obligation to your friendship; and, miss, when we become a little better acquainted, I flatter myself the change will not prove unpleasing. Suck. I know nothing at all about it. Har. Sir Gregory, we shall have your company at dinner? Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! no, no; that boy has spoiled my stomach. Come, Tim, fetch thy rib, and let us be jogging towards Wales; but how thou wilt get off with thy motherTim. Never fear, father Since you've been pleased our nuptial knot to bless, We shall be happy all our lives less. -more or [Exeunt omnes. |