Peg. Why do you marry me then? 'Tis the same thing, bud. Moo. No, no, 'tis quite different. How innocent she is! (Aside.) But hark you, madam, your sister went out this morning, and I have not seen her within since. Peg. Alack-a-day! she has been crying all day above, it seems, in a corner. Moo. Where is she? let me speak with her. Peg. O Lord! then she'll discover all. (Aside.) Pray hold, bud: what, d'ye mean to discover me? She'll know I have told you then. Pray, bud, let Ime talk with her first. Moo. I must speak with her to know whether Belville ever made her any promise, and whether she will be married to Sparkish or no. Peg. Pray, dear bud, don't till I have spoken with her, and told her that I have told you all; for she'll kill me else. Moo. Go then, and bid her come to me. Moo. Let me see Peg. I have just got time to know of Lucy, who first set me to work, what lie I shall tell next; for I am e'en at my wits end. [Aside, and exit. Moo. Well, I resolve it, Belville shall have her: I'd rather give him my sister than lend him my wife; and such an alliance will prevent his pretensions to my wife, sure; I'll make him of kin to her, and then he won't care for her. Re-enter PEGGY. some to their keeper. But here she comes. (Steps aside.) Re-enter PEGGY, dressed like Alithea; and as she passes over the stage, seems to sigh, sob, and wipe her eyes. Peg. Heigho! [Exit. Moo. (Comes forward.) There the poor devil goes, sighing and sobbing, a woeful example of the bound in duty, as well as inclination, to do my utfatal consequences of a town education; but I am most to save her; but first I'll secure my own property. (Opens, and calls.) Peggy! Peggy! my dear! I will return as soon as possible; do you hear me? Why don't you answer? You may read in the book, I bought you till I come back. As the (Locks the door.) This is the best, and only security Jew says in the play, Fast bind, fast find."[Exit. for female affections. SCENE II.-The Park, before Belville's house. Enter SPARKISH, fuddled. Spark. If I can but meet with her, or anybody that belongs to her, they will find me a match for 'em. When a man has wit, and a great deal of it, Champagne gives it a double edge, and nothing can withstand it; 'tis a lighted match to gunpowder. I was right to consult my friends, and they all agree with Moody, that I make a d-d ridiculous figure, as matters stand at present. I'll consult Belville; this is his house; he's my friend too; and no fool. It shall be so. D-n it, I must not be ridiculous. Peg. O Lord, bud, I told you what anger you (Going to the door, sees Peggy coming.) Hold! would make me with my sister. Moo. Won't she come? Peg. No, she won't, she's ashamed to look you in the face; she'll go directly to Mr. Belville, she says. Pray let her have her way, bud; she won't be pacified if you don't; and will never forgive me. For my part, bud, I believe, but don't tell anybody, they have broken a piece of silver between 'em; or have contracted one another, as we have done, you know, which is the next thing to being married. Moo. Pooh! you fool; she ashamed of talking with me about Belville, because I made the match for her with Sparkish! But Sparkish is a fool, and I have no objection to Belville's family or fortune: Peg. I will, bud. (Going.) [tell her so. Moo. Stay, stay, Peggy, let her have her own way; she shall go to Belville herself, and I'll follow her; that will be best; let her have her whim. Peg. You're in the right, bud; for they have certainly had a quarrel, by her crying and hanging her head so I'll be hang'd if her eyes an't swell'd out of her head, she's in such a piteous taking. Moo. Belville sha'n't use her ill, I'll take care of that: if he has made her a promise, he shall keep to it; but she had better go first. I will follow her at a distance, that she may have no interruption; and I will wait in the Park before I see them, that they may come to a reconciliation before I come upon 'em. Peg. La, bud, how wise you are! I wish I had half your wisdom; you see everything at once. Stand a one side then; there, a little further that way. Moo. And so I will: she shan't see me till I break in upon her at Belville's. (Sits down in the middle of the stuge.) Peg. Now for it." hold! if the Champagne does not hurt my eye-sight, while it sharpens 'my wit, the enemy is marching up this way. Come on, madam Alithea; now for a smart fire; and then let's see who will be ridiculous. Enter PEGGY. Peg. Dear me, I begin to tremble; there is Mr. Sparkish, and I can't get to Mr. Belville's house without passing by him. He sees me, and will discover me; he seems in liquor too. Bless me! Spark. O ho! she stands at bay a little; she don't much relish the engagement. The first blow is half the battle. I'll be a little figurative with her. (Aside, approaches her.) I find, madam, you like a solo better than a duett. You need not have been walking alone this evening, if you had been wiser yesterday. What, nothing to say for yourself? Repentance, I suppose, makes you as awkward and as foolish as the poor country girl your brother has lock'd up in Pall-mall. Peg. I'm frighten'd out of my wits. (Tries to pass him.) Spark. Not a step further shall you go till you give me an account of your behaviour, and make me reparation for being ridiculous. What, dumb still! Then if you won't by fair means, I must squeeze you to a confession. (As he goes to seize her, she slips by him; but he catches hold of her before she reaches Belville's door.) Not quite so fast, if you please. Come, come, let me see your modest face, and hear your soft tongue, or I shall be tempted to use you ill. Enter MOODY. Moo. Hands off, you ruflian! How dare you use a lady, and my sister, in this manner? (Takes Sparkish from her.) Spark. She's my property, sir; transferred to me by you; and though I would give her up to anybody for a dirty sword-knot, yet I won't be bullied out of my right, though it is not worth that.(Snaps his fingers.) You [Exit. Moo. My case is something better; for suppose the worst-should Belville use her ill--I had rather fight him for not marrying my sister, than for debauching my wife, for I will make her mine abso-| lutely to-morrow; and of the two, I had rather find Moo. There's a fellow to be a husband! my sister too forward than my wife: I expected no are justified in despising him and flying from him. other from her free education, as she calls it, and I'll defend you with my purse and my sword. Knock her passion for the town. Well, wife and sister are at that door, and let me speak to Belville. (Peggy names which make us expect love and duty, plea-knocks; when the footman opens it she runs in.) Is sure and comfort; but we find 'em plagues and tor- your master at home, friend? ments, and are equally, though differently, trouble- Foot. Yes, sir. Moo. Tell him, then, that I have rescued that lady from this gentleman; and, by her desire, and my consent, she flies to him for protection. If he can get a parson, let him marry her this minute; tell him so, and shut the door. [Exit Footman.j And now, sir, if your wine has given you courage, you had better shew it upon this occasion; for you are still d-d ridiculous. Spark. Did you ever hear the like? Lookye, Mr. Moody, we are in the Park, and to draw a sword is an offence to the court; so you may vapour as long as you please. A woman of so little taste is not worth fighting for; she's not worth my sword: but if you'll fight me to-morrow morning for diversion, I am your man. Moo. Relinquish your title in the lady to Belville peaceably, and you may sleep in a whole skin. Spark. Belville! he would not have your sister with the fortune of a nabob; no, no, his mouth waters at your country tit-bit at home: much good may it do him. Moo. And you think so, puppy. Ha, ha, ha! Moo. Then thy folly is complete. Ha, ha, ha! Spark. Thine will be so, when thou hast married thy country innocent. Ha, ha, ha! (They laugh at each other.) Re-enter HARCOURT. Spark. What, my boy, Harcourt! Moo. What brings you here, sir? Har. I followed you to Belville's to present a near relation of your's, and a nearer one of mine, [Exit. to you. Spark. What's the matter now? Re-enter HARCOURT, with ALITHEA. Har. Give me leave, gentlemen, without offence to either, to present Mrs. Harcourt to you. Spark. Alithea, your wife! Mr. Moody, are you in the clouds too? Moo. If I am not in a dream, I am the most miserable walking dog that ever run mad with his misfortunes and astonishment! Har. Why so, Jack? Can you object to my happiness, when this gentleman was unworthy of it? (Moody walks about in a rage.) Spark. This is very fine; very fine, indeed. Where's your story about Belville now, 'squire Moody? Pr'ythee, don't chafe, and stare, and stride, and beat thy head, like a mad tragedy poet; but out with thy tropes and figures. Moo. Zounds! I can't bear it. (Goes hastily to Belville's door, and knocks hard.) Ali. Dear brother, what's the matter? Moo. The devil's the matter! the devil and women together. (Knocks again.) I'll break the door down, if they won't answer. (Knocks again.) A Footman appears in the balcony, in flat. Foot. What would your honour please to have? Moo. Your master, rascal. Foot. He is obeying your commands, sir; and the moment he has finished, he will do himself the pleasure to wait on you. Moo. You sneering villain, you! if your master does not produce that she-devil, who is now with him, and who, with a face of innocence, has cheated and undone me, I'll set fire to his house. [Exit Footman from the balcony. Spark. 'Gad so! now I begin to smoke the business. Well said, simplicity! rural simplicity! 'Egad! if thou hast trick'd Cerberus here, shall be so ravish'd, that I will give this couple a wedding-dinner. Pray, Mr. Moody, who's d-d ridiculous now? Moo. (Going to Sparkish.) Lookye, sir; don't griu, for if you dare to shew your teeth at my misfortunes, I'll dash 'em down your impudent throat, you jackanapes! Spark. (Quite calm.) Very fine, faith; but I have no weapons to butt with a mad bull, so you may toss and roar by yourself, if you please. Enter BELVILLE in the balcony. Bel. What does my good friend want with me? Peg. No; but I an't though, bud. What's the matter, dear, are you angry with me? Moo. How dare you look me in the face, cockatrice? Peg. How dare you look me in the face, bud? Have you not given me to another, when you ought to have married me yourself? Have you not pretended to be married to me, when you knew in your conscience you was not? And have you not been shilly-shally for a long time? So that if I had not married dear Mr. Belville, I should not have married at all; so I should not. (Belville and Peggy retire from the balcony.) Spark. Extremely pleasant, faith; ha, ha, ha! Moo. I am stupified with shame, rage, and astonishment. My fate has o'ercome me; I can struggle no more with it. (Sighs.) What is left me? I cannot bear to look, or be looked upon. I will hurry down to my old house, take a twelvemonths provision into it, cut down my drawbridge, run wild about my garden, which shall grow as wild as myself; then will I curse the world, and every individual in it; and when my rage and spirits fail me, I will be found dead among the nettles and thistles, a woeful example of the baseness and treachery of one sex, and of the falsehood, lying, perjury, deceit, impudence, and damnation, of the other. [Exit. Spark. Very droll, and extravagantly comic, I must confess; ha, ha, ha! Enter BELVILLE and PEGGY. Lookye, Belville, I wish you joy with all my heart; Tartar; that's no business of mine. If you want you have got the prize, and perhaps have caught a evidence for Mr. Moody's giving his consent to your marriage, I shall be ready. I bear no ill-will Harcourt) though I'm sure they'll be miserable; to that pair; I wish you happy; (to Alithea and and so, your humble servant. [Exit. Peg. I hope you forgive me, Alithea, for playing your brother this trick; indeed, I should have only made him and myself miserable, had we married together. Ali. Then 'tis much better as it is. But I am yet in the dark how this matter has been brought about; how your innocence, my dear, has outwitted his worldly wisdom. Peg. I am sure I'll do anything to please my bud, but marry him. But you, good gentry, what say you to this? ACT I. SCENE I.-An Inn-door. MRS. DAY. (Without.) Mrs. Day. Let the porter carry our bundles down to Mr. Day's house. Enter MRS. DAY, ARABELLA, RUTH, CAPTAIN MANLY, and Coachman. Mrs. D. Out upon't, how dusty 'tis; 'tis a sad thing for people of the better sort, who are us'd to travel in a different style, to put up with a filthy stage-coach. I believe our places are paid for, coachman, are they not? Coach. Yes, ma'am; paid for at Oxford. Mrs. D. Very well; something for you to drink. Coach. Thank you, ma'am. [Exit. Mrs. D. Why, how now, Arabella! what, sad? By my faith, you need not; say, I told you so. My son Abel has been pining the whole month that you have been absent; and his honour, Mr. Day, your guardian, my husband, and justice of the peace, was quite impatient till we should fetch you home again. I know you'll like our son Abel; he's much improv'd of late; grown quite genteel, I assure you. Arab. Then he is improv'd indeed! (Aside.) Mrs. D. Now we talk of Abel, I wonder he, or my husband's chief clerk, Obadiah, is not here ready to attend me. (Seeing Manly.) How is it with you, sir? Weary of your journey, I suppose? Man. Her tongue will never tire. (Aside.) Yes, ma'am; so many in the coach has rather heated me. Enter ABEL and OBADIAH. Mrs. D. Oh! you are come. Didn't you think it fit that I should find attendance ready for me when I alighted? Ob. I ask your honour's pardon; I do profess I should have attended sooner, but that his young honour, Mr. Abel, delay'd me. Mrs. D. Well, son Ábel, you must be obeyed. BAILIFFS SERVANTS, &c. RUTH ARABELLA MRS. DAY What, you are rejoiced at the return of one I have in my eye, ha? Abel. Yes, I have, by my father's desire, been thinking more about somebody than I'll speak of. Mrs. D. That's right. You must now endeavour to please the ladies, cast off Obadiah's formalities, shew 'em your breeding, boy, and let 'em see you are as well taught as fed. (Apart.) [private. Abel. If you please, I would speak a word in heartily tir'd of Mrs. Day's tongue. Arab. (To Ruth.) That poor gentleman seems Ruth. Indeed, he looks fatigued. [honest. Arab. I like him much; he seems plain and Ruth. Plain enough in all conscience; but to please you, I'll speak to him. Arab. No, pr'y thee, don't; he'll think us rude. Ruth. Then I shall think him an ass. I hope you are better after your journey, sir? Man. No, madam, I am rather worse. Ruth. You don't like riding in a stage, perhaps? Man. No, ma'am, nor talking after it. This young spawn is as bad as the old pike. (Aside.) Ruth. Short, however, if not sweet. [happiness. Arab. Pr'ythee, peace! Sir, we wish you all Man. Ma'am, I thank you. I like her well; but good opinion. (Aside.) hope she'll say no more, lest she should spoil my I I told you; Abel has it. Say no more. Take her Mrs. D. (Advancing.) Come, Arabella: 'tis as by the hand, Abel: faith, she may venture to take you for better for worse; lead her long. Fare you well, sir. (To Manly.) Oh, Abel's a notable fellow. [Exit. Abel leads off Arabella, and Obadiah, Ruth. Man. There's something very interesting about that girl. Well; here I am in the ancient city of Gloucester, quartered for at least six months, if my creditors don't hunt me out of it. As our troop came some days since, private lodgings, I suppose, are scarce. (Going.) Enter COLONEL CARELESS and STORY. Story. Your friend still, captain; but no longer Man. Just now; came in a stage-coach, wedg'd in with half a dozen: there was a justice's wife, full of vulgar dignity, and her daughter; but a bastard, past doubt, for she bore no resemblance to her mother; their names are Day. There was another young lady with 'em, rather handsome; and she, it seems, is intended for the justice's eldest son; a downright ass. He came here to meet his mother, and with him his father's drawling clerk two such formal, awkward rascals, you never saw; ha, ha! Story. The handsome lady you speak of is a rich heiress; they say, her father died abroad in the king's service, and left this Mr. Day her guardian, who, it seems, designs her for this his first-born booby. Care. Why, what a dull dog wert thou, Manly, not to make love, and rescue her. Hey! whom have we here? Enter TEAGUE, wrapt up in a blanket. Who art thou, pray? Tea. A poor Irishman, heaven save me, and save Man. How long hast thou been in England? Tea. I have no business at all, at all; I'm a gentle- Tea. I'd say you could not do a better thing, though you got a worse man. Care. Thy master was my dear friend; wert thou with him when he died? Tea. Upon my soul and I was, and I howl'd over him after; and I ask'd him why he would die and leave poor Teague? But the devil a word he answered; and, in faith, I staid kissing his sweet face, till they took him from me. While my master was ill, we sold our clothes to buy physic and other things to comfort his stomach; but och! he paid me again, for when he died, he left me all that he had in the world. Care. Did he leave thee all that he had? Tea. Faith, and he did: he left me his love and his friendship, and that was his all; and then I wrapt myself up in this blanket, in which many's the time I roll'd him to keep him warm; and it does not fit me the worse for that: and in this dress I turned out for my journey, without any victuals at all besides a little snuff. did'st thy master, and thou shalt live with me. Care. Well, well, serve and love me, as thou Tea. Faith, and I will., Och! be such another master to poor Teague, and sure I'd serve you to the world's end, whether I would or no. (To himself.) I'm hir'd! Care. Now then to business; we must visit these ladies you speak of, Manly. Story, do you know the family? Story. I know them by name; but Day would as soon let the devil loose with his family as a soldier ; but come to my house, where, if you please, you Teu. I'm hir'd! (Aside.) [may both lodge. Care. Courage, noble captain! Who knows but we may make our fortunes here in our new quarters, as well as Story. Man. And should we not, 'tis but living on Teague's cheap diet of snuff. Tea. And of that you shall have your belly full. Care. Come, Teague, thou shalt lay by this mantle, (in lavender if thou wilt,) and mount the family livery; and should our fathers, Manly, still keep us from inheritance, and matrimony prove unpropitious, we'll hoist sail for a new world. (With rapture.) Och! upon Tea. Ay, for old Ireland, master! my soul, and I'd like to take you to my little estate there in Tipperary. Care. Hast thou got an estate there? Tea. Indeed and I have; but the land is of such a nature, if you had it for nothing, you'd scarce Tea. Yes, indeed, he left poor Teague; but he make your money of it. never serv'd me so before in all his life. Care. Pr'ythee, who was thy master? Tea. Sure, he was the good Colonel Danger. (With affection.) [friend. Care. Colonel Danger! He was my dear and noble Tea. Yes, that he was; and poor Teague's too. Care. Where did he die? Tea. He died in bed, in the enemy's prison, t'other side the water there. Care. And what dost thou mean to do? Tea. I would get a good master, if a good master would get me. I can't tell what to do else; I was here on my way to Bristol, to see to beg a passage to old Ireland. I went to the man who lives at that house, at the end of t'other house, beside the great house, who tells by the stars and the planters what good luck is for man; and he told me there was no star for a poor Irishman. By my soul, says I, there are as many stars in Ireland as in England, and more too. Now I'll go to Ireland; and if the stars be there still, I'll come back, and I'll beat his big pate, if he won't give Teague some good luck. Care. Poor fellow, I pity him; he seems simple and honest. Well, Teague, what would'st thou say, if I should take thee." Care. and Man. Ha, ha, ha, ha! [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Day's House. Enter MR. and MRS. DAY. Mr. D. Welcome, welcome, sweet duck; thou hast brought home money, and money's worth: if we can but make sure of this heiress, Arabella, for our son Abel Mrs. D. If we can; what, you are at your iss again? If I didn't rouse and support you, you would start at your own shadow. Mr. D. I profess, duck, thou say'st true; I should never have got Ruth and her estate into my clutches, but for thee. Mrs. D. In that, too, you were at your ifs; and now, you see, she passes with every one for our own daughter. [counsel, duck. Mr. D. Truly, I am much indebted to thy Mrs. D. Yes, and our neighbours perceive it; in truth, they sometimes call me the justice. Well, then, Arabella must be Abel's wife out of hand; in this Ruth must assist, and Abel must endeavour to do his part also. [as he is Mr. D. Od, if I were as young and as comely Mrs. D. You'd do wonders, to be sure; but Ruth shall instruct him, and speak a good word to Arabella. Here she comes. Enter RUTH. Mr. D. Ruth! It is my wife's desireMrs. D. Well, if it be your wife's desire, she can tell it herself, I suppose. My dear Ruth, my husband and I wish for a match between our Abel and Arabella; now the boy is not forward enough, and I wish you, love, to instruct him how to insinuate himself, and put on little winning and deluding ways: use thy power, wench, and you sha'n't repent it. Ruth. Ma'am, I shall be happy to do my best. Ruth. I'll instruct him, and finely. [Aside, & Exit. Mrs. D. By this, husband, we shall secure to Abel a good fortune. We must lose no time. I saw the officer in the coach to-day cast a sheep's eye at Arabella: there is a new troop too come to town; they are dangerous men. Sure, I know what officers are. Re-enter RUTH, with ABEL. Mr. D. Son Abel, do you hear? Mrs. D. Do hold your peace, and give me leave. I have told you before, child, that Arabella would be a good wife for you. Abel. Why, truly, I think so too; but I can't say that I feel much love yet. Mrs. D. All in good time; Ruth, here, will instruct you what to say, and how to carry yourself. Ah! boy, hadst thou thy mother's head. Well, what can't be, can't be; pray, observe your Mr. D. Be sure, boy- [sister's directions. Mrs. D. Who bid you speak? Surely, I have told him myself; so, get about your business. [Exit, pushing out Mr. Day. Ruth. Now, then, brother Abel. Abel. Now, then, sister Ruth. (Advances.) Ruth. Have you a month's mind to this young lady? Abel. I have not lov'd her more than a week yet. Ruth. Oh! I beg your pardon: but to begin; you must alter your posture: there, hold up your head as it becomes your dignity, and turn out your toes; they seem to have a great affection for each other; they don't like to part. Your hands thus: one in your bosom, t'other a kimbo, to denote [step? your consequence. Abel. Must I walk trippingly, or with a grave Ruth. Oh! gravely, by all means, like a true lover. Let's see. (He walks.) Vastly well. Suppose, now, I were your mistress, and met you by accident; then you must start to one side, like a frighten'd horse; (she starts) and declare that you did not see her before, because you were so rapt up in love. Now then. Abel. Ay, but I don't know what to say. Ruth. Begin thus: "Pardon, madam, the delightful reverie of all-delighting love, in which I was so wrapt up, that I did not see you;" dropping on your knee. (Kneeling.) Abel. I fear I shall forget the words. Abel. "Pardon, madam, the delightful levellee of all-delighting love, in which (Ruth prompts him thus far) I was so wrapt up, that you could not see me dropping on your knee.' Ruth. Ha, ha, ha! better than I expected. (Aside.) Oh, you're perfect; then she'll answer-. "I suppose, sir, your enquiring mind was sunk so deep into the profounds of cogitation, that, like other wise men, you needed a friend to help you out." Now, your reply. Abel. No, indeed, I want no help at all. Ruth. Oh fie, man! you must confess you need help, and ask her for her hand. Abel. Ay, that brings it to the point. Ruth. To be sure it does; besides, Arabella will never die for love of you, (engaging as you are) if you are not gallant. Abel. Why, yes, I am engaging; and I can be gallant, if that be all. Ruth. No doubt; now go seek your mistress, and remember your lesson; keep your position, and the town's your own. [Arabella. Abel. Nay, I care not for the town, if I can get [Exit, repeating the speech. Ruth. I could burst with laughing: what an ass it is; ha, ha, ha! Enter ARABELLA. Oh! that thou hadst come the other way, and met Ruth. He's seeking you to make love. you'll be rarely courted. Oh! Arab. Nay, Ruth, 'twere well enough for me to mock them; but consider, Mr. and Mrs. Day are your parents. Ruth. That I deny; wonder not, I begin thus freely to invite your confidence. 'Tis enough to tell you now, that I know Sir Bazil Thoroughgood was my father; and at two years old, (the tiine my father died) this canting Day, then sole trustee, caught me and my estates. Hereafter you shall know all; 'twere time we both look'd to our own affairs, Arabella. Arab. Then let us love and assist each other.Would they marry me to this their first-born puppy? Ruth. No doubt; but we'll find those ere long shall see us righted. Oh! here's another of the goodly flock. Step aside now. (Arabella retires.) Enter OBADIAH. Ob. Mrs. Ruth, I am glad to see thee return'd, in truth I am; for a smile from thee, to Obadiah's heart, is the most exhilarating cordial. Ruth. Except the cordial you take for the cholic, Mr. Obadiah. Ob. Truly, I am much afflicted that way, but thy little sparklers always revive me. (She laughs.) Ah! thou art skittish and profane-Odso, I must hasten on business for his worship;-when I look on thee, Satan is busy within me-Oh! (Checking his rapture.) but I will smite and keep the rebel down. [Exit. Ruth. (Arabella advances.) There is a sighing swain for you-but come, dear girl, we'll make our lovers our pastime: remember I am Ruth still, and their daughter. As I live, Abel returns!-for the joke's sake walk towards him;-I'll not leave you. (Retires.) Enter ABEL, as not seeing Arabella; they walk toward each other, and Abel starts, as Ruth taught him. Arab. Hey! what's the meaning of this? Abel. "Pardon, madam, the delightful levelee of all-delighting love, in which I was so wrapped up, that you could not see me dropping on your knee." (Kneels.) Arab. Surely he's mad! (Aside.) Abel. Now you should speak, forsooth. Arab. What should I say, forsooth? Abel. Just what you please, forsooth. Arab. This is Ruth's instruction. (Aside.) Pardon me, sir, but I did not see you. Abel. No, 'tis I that was not to see you, and then you are to answer. (Rises, and goes to her.) Arab. Well, what should I answer? Abel. Something about me, and other wise men and cogitations, and then you take my hand, and help me out. Enter MRS. DAY. Mrs. D. Why, how now, son Abel! got so close to Miss Arabella! Oh! then, I smell a rat-nay, look you, Ruth. (Ruth advances.) See how gay Abel is-do but mark his eyes-there-he looks a thousand darts at once! Ruth, how has he behaved, ha? (Apart to Ruth.) Ruth. Oh! beyond expectation-He'll need but little teaching. Humour his mother. (A side to Ara.) |