THE TURNPIKE GATE. * ACT I. SCENE I.-A Public-house, Sign of the Admiral, R. H. -A Turnpike and House, L. H.†-In back Ground, a Milk-house with latticed Windows-Smart discovered preparing Guns for shooting. Sir Edw. [Within.] Smart, get the guns ready. Is my new keeper come from the Lodge? Smart. No, Sir Edward. [PEGGY crosses the Stage with a Milk-jug.] Servant, Miss Peggy. [She sneers.] Ugh! A kiss from my master has raised your nose an inch higher, I see. me. Peggy. Joke with your equals, man: don't talk to [Exit, L. H. conceitedly. Smart. I shall make you remember this. My master's grand Turk here! he monopolises all the wenches. * R. H. Right Hand. + L. H. Left Hand. Enter HENRY BLUNT, L. H. in Shooting Dress, with Gun, singing. Henry. Morrow, fellow-servant-Sir Edward stirring? Smart. Yes-just asked for you. Mind your hits to-day, Mr Henry: you shot for your place, and won it; but you'd better not outshoot Sir Edward. Henry. Oh, ho!---vain of his abilities that way, ha? Smart. That way! yes, and every other: I've dropped being his rival some time. Henry. Sir Edward seems to have a fine estate here ? Smart. Yes, that belonging to the Lodge is eight hundred a-year; the Upland farm three; and his estate in Norfolk as much as both. Henry. The Lodge being but at the head of the village, why does he prefer a bed at this publichouse? Smart. Pleasure, sir, pleasure, But here comes one answer to your two questions. Step this way, and I'll give you another. [They retire, R. H. Enter PEGGY, from the Milk-house, followed by RoBERT MAYTHorn. Robert. If that be your mind, Peggy, it can't be help'd-if you can't love me, you can't. Sir Edw. [Within.] Peggy, my dear---bring my breakfast. Peggy. Coming, Sir Edward-I've only been to fetch the cream.-You hear, Robert? Robert. Yes-I do hear, and zee too-I be neither deaf nor blind. Peggy. The young Baronet expects me above. Robert. 'Tis well if old Belzeebub don't expect thee below; zo there's an end of that:however, d'ang it, let's shake hands. Peggy. Paws off, if you please-your hands are rough, man; and I can't bear any thing dirty or sunburnt. SONG. Peggy. Pray, young man, your suit give over, Sour and sweet can ne'er agree: At best, you're but an awkward creature, II. As I soon may roll in pleasure, HENRY BLUNT and SMART advance. [Exeunt. Smart. Ha! ha! Oh, you bumpkin! I was romping with his sweetheart last night, and he was at me like a bull-dog: the mastiff would bite, sir, but we have muzzled him. Henry. As how? Smart. Management, sir: his father lives at that turnpike-house, which, with a small dairy and farm, he holds of Sir Edward. The old fellow has seen better days. The Admiral, who died a twelvemonth since, and to whom Sir Edward is heir at law, was very partial to him and his daughter, for during his life they needed nothing; but, being in arrears for rent, they are-all at Sir Edward's mercy. Young Sulkey, therefore, must lose his sweetheart; and as to the turnpike beauty, his sister, we have offered her a curricle, and if she does not sport it in Bond-street in less than a month, we don't understand trap. Henry. What, she encourages him? Smart. A little coy, or so; but she's one of your die-away dames; in the dumps, too, at present, for the loss of her true lovier," (a booby sailor) :--but I'll bet fifty she's easier had than little Forward here, with all her avarice and vanity. Henry. And these are the reasons for Sir Edward's lodging here? ROBERT appears, L. H. That's the lad who tried his skill with me for the gamekeeper's place? Smart. The same. [ROBERT advances.] Henry. Morrow, brother sportsman-you shoot well. Robert. Yes, sir-and you better. However, 'twas all fair, and I do wish you joy of the place. Henry. Nay, the place may be your's yet:-I am elected only to trial, and self-recommended: my character, when it comes, may not please Sir Edward. Robert. Mayhap you'd please him best with noo character at all. You be much in favour, be'nt you, Mr Smart! [Sulkily.] Smart. Ha! [Stares and makes signs of Boxing.]--Oh! [Exit. Henry. Things are a little changed since Sir Edward came among you. Ha, Robert? Robert. Yes, sir; another laayer would ha done less mischief in the parish; but it is not the first time the devil got into Paradise. [ROBERT retires to Milk-house. Enter JOE STANDFAST, L. H. singing---his Knee bound. Joe. So, Master Blunt---prepared, I see, to give the birds a broadside. Ah! there's the old boy--[Looking at Sign.] who has given our enemies many a broadside! Bless your old weather-beaten phiz.[Bows to him. Henry. You're very polite. Joe. To be sure I am---I strike my main-top to him by way of salute, every morning before I stow my locker:---that's the face of an honest heart, Master Blunt. 'Tis not, to be sure, done to the life; but what the painter han't made out, a grateful mind can : I fought under him when he was captain, and twice after he was vice. He made me master after our first brush, and but for this splintered timber of mine, I'd been by his side in the West Indies, when the brave old boy died. Died! I lie, he did not die; for he made himself immortal! His goodness laid me up in a snug cabin here on the larboard tack, made me a freeholder with 301. a-year; and when your master, his honour's cousin and heir, steers by the compass of true glory, as the Admiral did, he shall have my vote for sailing into the port of parliament ---if he gets it before, damme! Henry. Sir Edward resembles him at least in his fondness for the sex, it seems. We tars live Joe. Why, to be sure, the old buck did love the lasses---What brave fellow does not? but to love and fight; but the wenches Master Blunt, for all that, often jilt us, SONG. Joe. Britannia's sons at sea, In battle always brave, |