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Hen. I am too ill to eat, my dear boy; but the contents of your bottle will cheer me.
Boy. Oh! nobody will miss that. When mother gets up, she never remembers if she left any in it, over night. Hen. [Drinks.] What is your name, my dear? Boy. I'm Bill. Hen. Won't you lose a keepsake, if I give you one ? Boy. No, that I won't.
Hen. See-bere is a silver whistle for you. I tore it, by accident, from a poor boatswain, as I was endeavouring to pluck him from the waves, when he was drowning
Bou. What!-and was he drowned for good and all ?
Hen. Yes. Be sure to keep this till you are a man, and it will put you in mind to do, then, what you are doing now.
Boy. What's that ?
Hen. [Lifting him up in his arms.] To struggle all in your little power to save a fellow creature from sinking. (Kisses him, and puts him to the ground.-As going.) Farewell.
Boy. Oh, but you won't go ?
Hen. Yes, my love. But I must see you into your room, first.
Boy. Oh, but stay, and see how nice I'll blow this whistle.
[Blows it. Hen. Hush! you'll alarm the house. Boy. Oh dear! I forgot that. There's father at the window.-Let us get under the great elm.
[They retire, R. J. E. Hog. [Looking out at the window.] Who's that?
Enter SOLOMON GUNDY, R. Sol. (c.) Mr. Hogmore, I wish you a very bong soir
Hog. What do you want here, after sunset, you ratkilling vagabond ? No good, I'll answer for you.
Sol. Whoever answered for you, at your christening, to teach you the vulgar tongue, kept his word with the strictest voracity. And as to killing rats, you have always been my victorious competitioner,
Hog. How do you make out that?:
Sol. While I have poisoned one, you have starved twenty. But suppose, now, our new lord of the manor had placed me at the top of his house ?
Hog. Then I shouldn't be plagued with you under
Sol. He has sent me here, officiously, to implore the country, in search of a wanderer. Have you seen one ?
Hog. There was one wanting to get in, just now.
[Slaps down the window.-Henry and Boy appear R. V. E., advancing softly.
Sol. That man is what I call a Poissarde. I could hear no news of this housekeeper, at the Spread Eagle. I'm afraid we must look upon her as lost, like an ongfong trouvay. But I suffused a sigh into the ambrosial ear of my amy, and murmured my youthful vow of everlasting detachment. (Henry and the Boy come forwerd, L.] Who's that?
Hen. The wanderer, you have just been told, was refused admittance to that dwelling.
Sol. This can't be the housekeeper ; for she's a song culotte, as the French say. Where do you come from?
Boy. He came out of a boat;-all the way from France.
Sol. From France! Hem! Parly Fransay un pew, I suppose, Musseer?
(To Henry. Hen. I understand French better than I speak it.
Sol. That's not my case ; I speak it toote le maim as well as I do English. What part did you royagy from last ?
Hen. From Dunkirk.
Sol. Dunkirk! that's astonishing! The place where I received my foreign polish. Perhaps you lodged at the Tetty de Buff?
Hen. I lodged in a prison.
Hen. My story is brief. I was taken in the English service by the French ; and have escaped, first from their prisons, then from the storms that have driven me so far northward on the English coast. Be my guide to any place where I may rest for the night, and I will reward you for yonr labour.
Sol. I'll tell you what you shall give me.
Sol. A cursed thump on the head, if I take a farthing for helping a distressed English seaman, thrown on his own shore, from the clutches of tbe enemy.
Hen. My good friend, whatever your proficiency may be in French, such language is pure English, and that of the best subjects in the British dominions.
[Shake hands. Sol. (R.) Don't be surprised at my orthography of utterance; for my father was schoolmaster at the contagious village; so learning to me is hereditary.
Hen. (c.) Well, show me the nearest habitation, for I am almost dropping with fatigue.
Boy. (L.) My lord's house is just a' top of our hill.
Soi. I must go to Lord Alamode's, to make inquisi. tions about our housekeeper; but they have no family there now. I'll take you afterwards to my master's, where you will be treated cummy fo, as we say.
Hen. Oh! the very first place of rest.
Sol. 'Tis but a few hundred yards, and the night is quite lunatic.
Hen. First, let me take care of my little friend. Come, William, I must see you safe into your room.
Boy. Ob, I can get in easy enough.
Hen. Won't you let me help you? You have been ready enough to help me.
Boy. Yes, that you shall, if you like. Softly, though, for fear father should hear us again. Come along. [Goes to the window.] Now for it.
[Goes in and remains in sight. Hen. [To Solomon.] My good friend, give me that basket. God bless you!
[To the child. Boy. Good bye.
Sol. [Giving the basket.] Here's a ham. A jombang, as we call it at Dunkirk.
Boy. [To Henry, who gives him the basket.] If you come this way again, I shall be very glad to see you.
Hen. And, if I do come this way again, it shall go hard but I will see you. Good night, my sweet little fellow.
[Kisses him. Boy. Good night, I'll take care of the whistle.
[Shuts the window Hen. Come, friend, come!
END OF ACT IV,
SCENE I.-A Room in Lord Alamode's House.
Enter Mrs. GLASTONBURY and FANNY, R. Fan. (R. C.) My presence here arises entirely from mistake, believe me.
Mrs. G. (c.) Well, well; I take your word for it.- But that brute, Bang, did not lock me up in mistake, that's certain. You are the new housekeeper, you say, at the manor house. You are prodigiously young, child, for the mysteries of so important an office.
Fan. There is no mystery, I imagine, in being strictly honest to my employer.
Mrs. G. Honest! Fiddle-faddle! Can you raise paste, and make lemon cheesecakes ? Do you know what is good for an inward bruise ? Have you studied the whole art of preserves, pickles, jellies, cakes, candies, dried-fruits, made-wines, cordials, and distillery ?
Fan. No, indeed.
Mrs. G. I thought so; but, as you let me out of the closet, I owe you a return of favours.
Fan. And I entreat your assistance, madam, imme. diately.- Enable me at present to fly from this house.
Mrs. G. Don't be alarmed, young woman. Has the madman my lord has sent here been rude to you?
Fan. Indeed he has ! By proposals, which, however speciously worded, a virtuous woman bears with indignation.
Mrs. G. Oh! I wish be had been rude to me! I would nave given him such a look! my looks freeze a libertine,-they are reckon'd so very repelling.
Fan. In this lone house, and in his power, I have nearly sunk with terror; but the wine he has drank, which, at first, increased my fears, gave me an opportunity of escaping from his apartment.
Mrs. G. And, in running along the gallery, you heard nie calling help through the keyhole.
Enter CARRYDOT, L. So, Mr. Carrydot ! fine doings, truly!
Car. What is the matter, madam ?
Mrs. G. Matter! I have been made prisoner in my own china-closet, by that beast of a gamekeeper.
Car. Bless me!
Mrs. G. Bless you! bless me, if you go to that! And, while one ruffian has lock'd me up, t'other has made advances to her, which make every virtuous housekeeper tremble.
Enter ANDREW BANG, R. drunk. And. I say, old Carrydot, do you go and fetch coffee for the baronet.
Cor. Drunk as an owl! How did you get in this sad condition ?
And. [Crosses to c.] Sad? that be your mistake. I've been getting merry.
Mrs. G. So, sir, I am obliged to you for locking
And. Don't ye mention it. You be kindly welcome, I do assure ye.
Car. Answer me, you abominable !-How came you in this pickle?
And. Mother Glastonbury forgot to lock up her cherrybounce before I lock'd up she.
Mrs. G. And you have drank it all ?
And, Damn's the drop's left, as the baronet said, e'en now, a'ter his third bottle o'claret.
Car. His third ! why I only sent up the third, because you said the second was cork'd.
And. So it ware, then ; but, when I uncork'd it, he drank it. Miss, the baronet do want you to pour out his coffee.
Fan. I shall never--but I cannot give you an answer.
And. Nor I you, hardly; so we be much of a muchness.
[A ring at the gate, L. Car. There is a ring at the court-gate.-Inquire who it is, if you can. And. Pooh! I'm sober enow, you'll see, and--
[Ring again, L. Car. Go to the gate.-Let me see that, you hog.
And. I wool ; but, if you want to see a hug in a gate, you had best go to't yoursen wi' a looking-glass.
[Exit, L. Fan. And now, sir, set me free, I beseech you.
Car. Nay, nay, be advised : I am unable, while matters are in this state, to leave the house myself to-night; and your venturing alone would be dangerous.--To-mor