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Hodge. Bring you to shame! Don't make me speak, Madge, don't make me speak.

Mar. 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 of the parish, and I'll bring the man shall say it to your face. 45a

Mar. No, no, Hodge, 'tis no such thing, 'tis a base lie of farmer Ploughshare's—But I know what makes you false-hearted to me, that you may keep company with young madam's waiting-woman, and I am sure she's no fit body for a poor man's wife.

Hodge. How should you know what she's fit for? She's fit for as much as you, mayhap; don't find fault with your betters, Madge. [Seeing 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?

Y. Mea. Well, and what then?

Hodge. Nay, not much, only the ostler at the Greenman was saying, as how there was a passenger at their house as see'd you go by, and said he know'd you; and axt a mort of questions—So I thought I'd tell you.

Y. Mea. The devil! ask questions about me I I know nobody in this part of the country; there must be some mistake in it.—Come hither, Hodge.

Mar. A nasty ungrateful fellow, to use me at this rate, after being to him as I have.—Well, well, I wish all poor girls would take warning by my mishap, and never have nothing to say to none of them.


How happy were my days, till now!

I ne'er did sorrow feel,
I rose with joy to milh my cow, 480

Or tahe my spinning-wheel.

My heart was lighter than a fly,

Like any bird I sung,
Till he pretended love, and I

Believ'd his flatCring tongue.

Oh the fool, the silly silly fool,

Who trusts what man may be;
I wish I was a maid again,

And in my own country. 489


A green with the prospeB of a village, and the representation of a statute or fair. Enter Justice WoodCock, Hawthorn, Mrs. Deborah WoodCock, LuCINDA, ROSSETTA, 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.

Countrymen. His worship!

J. Wood. Fye, fye, what a croud's this! Odd, I'll put some of them in the stocks. {Strihing a 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 ma! Serve the king, master I no, no, I pay the king, that's enough for me. Ho, ho, ho! 501

Haw. Well said, Sturdy-boots.

J. Wood. Nay, if you talk to them, they'll answer you.

Haw. I would have them do so, I like they should. —Well, madam, is not this a fine sight? I did not know my neighbour's estate had been so well peopled. —Are all these his own tenants?

Mrs. Deb. More than are good of them, Mr. Hawthorn. I don't like to see such a parcel of young hussys fleering with the fellows. 511

Haw. There's a lass [bech'ning to a country girl.\ Come hither, my pretty maid. What brings you here? [Chuching her under the chin."] Do you come to look for a service?

C. Girl. Yes, an't please you.

Haw. Well, and what place are you for f

C. Girl. All work, an't please you.

J. Wood. Ay, ay, I don't doubt it; any work you'll put her to. 520

Mrs. Deb. She looks like a brazen one—Go, hussy.

Haw. Here's another. [Catching a girl that goes by.\ What health, what bloom !—This is Nature's work; no art, no daubing. Don't be ashamed, child; those cheeks of thine are enough to put a whole drawingroom out of countenance.


Justice Woodcock, Hawthorn, Mrs. DeboRah Woodcock, Lucinda, Rossetta, Young Meadows, Hodge, and men and women servants.

Hodge. Now, your honour, now the sport will come. The gut-scrapers are here, and some among them arc going to sing and dance. Why there's not the like of our statute, mini, in five counties ; others are but fools to it. 531

Servant-man. Come, good people, make a ring, and stand out, fellow servants, as many of you as are willing, and able to bear a bob. 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.


/ pray ye, gentles, list to me.
I'm young, and strong, and clean you see;

I'll not turn tail to any she, 540

For worh that's in the country.
Of all your house the charge I tahe,
I wash, I scrub, I brew, I bahe;
And more can do than here I'll speah,

Depending on your bounty.


Behold a blade, who hnows his trade

In chamber, hall, and entry:
And what tho' here 1 now appear,

I've serv'd the best of gentry.

A footman would you have 550 / 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.

Who wants a good cooh, my hand they must cross;
For plain wholesome dishes I'm ne'er at a loss;
And what are your soups, your ragouts, andyour sauce,
Cempar'd to old English roast beef?


If you want a young man, with a true honest heart,
Who hnows how to manage a plough and a cart, 561

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