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_John._ Oh! my lad, your father, Sir George, will change your note.
_Rover._ He must give me one first. Sir George! then my father is a knight, it seems; ha, ha, ha! very good, faith! 'pon my honour, I am not the gentleman that you think me.
_John._ I ought not to think you any gentleman for giving your honour in a falsehood. Oh! them play actors you went amongst have quite spoiled you. I wish only one of 'em would come in my way. I'd teach 'em to bring a gentleman's son tramboozing about the country.
_Enter_ WAITER.
_Waiter._ Her ladys.h.i.+p's chariot's at the door, and I fancy it's you, sir, the coachman wants.
_John._ Yes, it's me. I attend your honour.
_Rover._ Then you insist on it that I am--
_John._ I insist on nothing, only you shall come.
_Rover._ Indeed! Shall! Shall is a word don't sound over agreeable to my ears.
_John._ Does a pretty girl sound well to your ear?
_Rover._ "More music in the clink of her horses' hoofs than twenty hautboys." Why, is this Lady Thing-o-me pretty?
_John._ Beautiful as a mermaid, and stately as a s.h.i.+p under sail.
_Rover._ Egad! I've a mind to humour the frolic--Well, well, I'll see your mermaid. But then on the instant of my appearance the mistake must be discovered. [_Aside._] Harkye, is this father of mine you talk of at this lady's?
_John._ No: your father's in chase of the deserters. I find he's afraid to face the old one, so, if I tell him, he won't go with me.
[_Aside._] No, no, we shan't see him in a hurry.
_Rover._ Then I'll venture. Has the lady ever seen me?
_John._ Psha! none of your jokes, man; you know, that her ladys.h.i.+p, no more than myself, has set eyes upon you since you was the bigness of a rumbo canakin.
_Rover._ The choice is made. I have my Ranger's dress in my trunk: "Cousin of Buckingham, thou sage grave man!"
_John._ What?
_Rover._ "Since you will buckle fortune on my back, to bear her burden, whether I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load; but if black scandal, or foul faced"----
_John._ Black! my foul face was as fair as yours before I went to sea.
_Rover._ "Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me."
_John._ Man, don't stand preaching parson Sacks--come to the chariot.
_Rover._ Ay, to the chariot! "Bear me, Bucephalus, among the billows,--hey! for the Tygris!" [_Exeunt._
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
LADY AMARANTH'S _House_.
_Enter_ LADY AMARANTH _and_ EPHRAIM.
_Lady Am._ Though thou hast settled that distressed gentleman's debt, let his sister come unto me; and remit a quarter's rent unto all my tenants.
_Eph._ As thou bid'st I have discharged from the pound the widow's cattle; but shall I let the lawsuit drop against the farmer's son who did shoot the pheasant?
_Lady Am._ Yea; but instantly turn from my service the gamekeeper's man that did kill the fawn, while it was eating from his hand. We should hate guile, though we may love venison.
_Eph._ I love a young doe.--[_Aside._] Since the death of friend Dovehouse, who, (though one of the faithful) was an active magistrate, this part of the country is infested with covetous men, called robbers, and I have, in thy name, said unto the people, whoever apprehendeth one of these, I will reward him, yea with thirty pieces of gold.
[_A loud knocking without._] That beating of one bra.s.s against another at thy door, proclaimeth the approach of vanity, whose pride of heart swelleth at an empty sound. [_Exit._
_Lady Am._ But my heart is possessed with the idea of that wandering youth, whose benevolence induced him to part with, perhaps, his all, to free the unhappy debtor. His person is amiable, his address (according to worldly modes) formed to please, to delight. But he's poor; is that a crime? Perhaps meanly born: but one good action is an ill.u.s.trious pedigree. I feel I love him, and in that word are birth, fame, and riches.
_Enter_ JANE.
_Jane._ Madam, my lady, an't please you--
_Lady Am._ Didst thou find the young man, that I may return him the money he paid for my tenant?
_Jane._ I found him, ma'am, and--I found him, and he talked of--what he said.
_Lady Am._ What did he say?
_Jane._ He saw me, ma'am--and call'd me Blowsabella, and said he would--I'll be hang'd, ma'am, if he didn't say he would--Now, think of that;--but if he hadn't gone to London in the stage coach--
_Lady Am._ Is he gone? [_With emotion._
_Enter_ JOHN DORY.
_John._ Oh, my lady, mayhap John Dory is not the man to be sent after young gentlemen that scamper from school, and run about the country play acting! Pray walk up stairs, Master Thunder: [_Calls off._]
_Lady Am._ Hast thou brought my kinsman hither?
_John._ Well, I havn't then.
_Jane._ If you havn't, what do you make a talk about it?
_John._ Well, don't give me your palaver, young Miss Slip Slop.--Will you only walk up, if you please, Master Harry?
_Jane._ Will you walk up, if you please, Master Harry?
_Lady Am._ Friends.h.i.+p requireth, yet I am not disposed to commune with company.--[_Aside._