Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net









 THE
 RECRUITING OFFICER,

 A COMEDY,
 IN FIVE ACTS;

 BY GEORGE FARQUHAR, ESQ.


 AS PERFORMED AT THE
 THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.
 PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS
 FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.


 WITH REMARKS

 BY MRS. INCHBALD.


 LONDON:

 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME
 PATERNOSTER ROW.




 WILLIAM SAVAGE, PRINTER,
 LONDON.




REMARKS.


If the two last acts of this drama were equal to the three first, it
would rank the foremost among Farquhar's works; for these are brilliant
in wit, humour, character, incident, and every other requisite necessary
to form a complete comedy. But the decrease of merit in a play, on
approaching its conclusion, is, as in all other productions, of most
unfortunate consequence.

The author was himself a recruiting officer, and possibly gathered all
the materials for this play on the very spot where he has placed his
scene--Shrewsbury. He has dedicated the piece "to all friends round the
Wrekin," and has thanked the inhabitants of the town for that cheerful
hospitality, which made, he adds, "the recruiting service, to some men
the greatest fatigue on earth, to me the greatest pleasure in the
world."

He even acknowledges, that he found the country folk, whom he has here
introduced--meaning those most excellently drawn characters of Rose, her
brother, and the two recruits,--under the shade of that beforementioned
hill near Shrewsbury, the Wrekin; and it may be well supposed, that he
discovered Serjeant Kite in his own Regiment, and Captain Plume in his
own person. Certainly those characters have every appearance of being
copied from life--and probably, many other of his Salopian acquaintance
have here had their portraits drawn to perfection.

The disguise of Sylvia in boy's clothes, is an improbable, and romantic
occurrence; yet it is one of those dramatic events, which were considered
as perfectly natural in former times; although neither history, nor
tradition, gives any cause to suppose, that the English ladies were
accustomed to attire themselves in man's apparel; and reason assures
us, that they could seldom, if ever, have concealed their sex by such
stratagem.

Another incident in the "Recruiting Officer" might have had its value a
hundred years ago--just the time since the play was first acted; but to
the present generation, it is so dull, that it casts a heaviness upon
all those scenes, whereon it has any influence. Fortune-tellers are now
a set of personages, in whom, and in whose skill or fraud, no rational
person takes interest; and though such people still exist by their
profession, they are so vile, they are beneath satire; and their dupes
such ideots, they do not even enjoy sense enough, for their folly to
produce risibility.

Perhaps, the author despised this part of his play, as much as the
severest critic can do; but having expended his store of entertainment
upon the foregoing scenes, he was compelled to supply the bulk of the
two last acts, from the scanty fund of wasted spirits, and exhausted
invention.

The life of Farquhar was full of adventures.--As a student, he was
expelled the college of Dublin, for adventuring profane wit upon a
sacred theme, given to him by his tutor for his exercise.

As an actor, he forsook the stage in grief and horror, on having
unknowingly made use of a real sword, instead of a counterfeit one, by
which he wounded a brother performer, with whom he had to fence in a
tragedy, nearly to the loss of his life.

In love, and marriage, his enterprises were still more unhappily
terminated.--And merely as an author, and a soldier, can any events
of his life be accounted prosperous.

As a dramatic writer, Farquhar was eminently successful; and in his
military capacity, he was ever honoured and beloved--whether fighting
with a great army in Flanders, or recruiting with a small party in
Shropshire.




DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.


 CAPTAIN PLUME          _Mr. Holman._
 JUSTICE BALANCE        _Mr. Murray._
 WORTHY                 _Mr. Whitfield._
 SERJEANT KITE          _Mr. Knight._
 BULLOCK                _Mr. Fawcett._
 FIRST RECRUIT          _Mr. Munden._
 SECOND RECRUIT         _Mr. Emery._
 WELSH COLLIER          _Mr. Farley._
 CONSTABLE              _Mr. Thompson._
 CAPTAIN BRAZEN         _Mr. Lewis._

 MELINDA                _Miss Chapman._
 ROSE                   _Mrs. Gibbs._
 LUCY                   _Mrs. Litchfield._
 SYLVIA                 _Mrs. Johnson._

 _SCENE--Shrewsbury._




THE RECRUITING OFFICER.




ACT THE FIRST.


SCENE I.

_The Market Place._

_Drum beats the Grenadier's March.--Enter_ SERJEANT KITE, _followed by_
THOMAS APPLETREE, COSTAR PEARMAIN, _and the_ MOB.


Kite. [_Making a Speech._] If any gentlemen soldiers or others, have
a mind to serve his majesty, and pull down the French king; if any
'prentices have severe masters, any children have undutiful parents; if
any servants have too little wages, or any husband too much wife, let
them repair to the noble Serjeant Kite, at the sign of the Raven, in
this good town of Shrewsbury, and they shall receive present relief and
entertainment.--[_Drum._]--Gentlemen, I don't beat my drums here to
insnare or inveigle any man; for you must know, gentlemen, that I am a
man of honour: besides, I don't beat up for common soldiers; no, I list
only grenadiers; grenadiers, gentlemen.----Pray, gentlemen, observe
this cap--this is the cap of honour; it dubs a man a gentleman, in the
drawing of a trigger; and he, that has the good fortune to be born six
foot high, was born to be a great man--Sir, will you give me leave to
try this cap upon your head?

_Cost._ Is there no harm in't? won't the cap list me?

_Kite._ No, no, no more than I can.--Come, let me see how it becomes
you.

_Cost._ Are you sure there is no conjuration in it? no gunpowder plot
upon me?

_Kite._ No, no, friend; don't fear, man.

_Cost._ My mind misgives me plaguily.--Let me see it--[_Going to put it
on._] It smells woundily of sweat and brimstone. Smell, Tummas.

_Tho._ Ay, wauns does it.

_Cost._ Pray, Serjeant, what writing is this upon the face of it?

_Kite._ The crown, or the bed of honour.

_Cost._ Pray now, what may be that same bed of honour?

_Kite._ Oh! a mighty large bed! bigger by half than the great bed at
Ware--ten thousand people may lie in it together, and never feel one
another.

_Cost._ My wife and I would do well to lie in't, for we don't care for
feeling one another----But do folk sleep sound in this same bed of
honour?

_Kite._ Sound! ay, so sound that they never wake.

_Cost._ Wauns! I wish again that my wife lay there.

_Kite._ Say you so! then I find, brother----

_Cost._ Brother! hold there friend; I am no kindred to you that I know
of yet.--Lookye, serjeant, no coaxing, no wheedling, d'ye see--If I have
a mind to list, why so--if not, why 'tis not so--therefore take your cap
and your brothership back again, for I am not disposed at this present
writing.--No coaxing, no brothering me, 'faith.

_Kite._ I coax! I wheedle! I'm above it, sir: I have served twenty
campaigns----but, sir, you talk well, and I must own that you are a man,
every inch of you; a pretty, young, sprightly fellow!--I love a fellow
with a spirit; but I scorn to coax; 'tis base; though I must say, that
never in my life have I seen a man better built. How firm and strong he
treads! he steps like a castle! but I scorn to wheedle any man--Come,
honest lad! will you take share of a pot?

_Cost._ Nay, for that matter, I'll spend my penny with the best he that
wears a head, that is, begging your pardon, sir, and in a fair way.

_Kite._ Give me your hand then; and now, gentlemen, I have no more to
say but this--here's a purse of gold, and there is a tub of humming ale
at my quarters--'tis the king's money, and the king's drink--he's a
generous king, and loves his subjects--I hope, gentlemen, you won't
refuse the king's health.

_All Mob._ No, no, no.

_Kite._ Huzza, then! huzza for the king, and the honour of Shropshire.

_All Mob._ Huzza!

_Kite._ Beat drum.

     [_Exeunt, shouting.--Drum beating the Grenadier's March._


     _Enter_ PLUME, _in a Riding Habit_.

_Plume._ By the Grenadier's march, that should be my drum, and by that
shout, it should beat with success.--Let me see--four o'clock--[_Looking
on his Watch._] At ten yesterday morning I left London--an hundred and
twenty miles in thirty hours is pretty smart riding, but nothing to the
fatigue of recruiting.


     _Enter_ KITE.

_Kite._ Welcome to Shrewsbury, noble captain! from the banks of the
Danube to the Severn side, noble captain! you're welcome.

_Plume._ A very elegant reception, indeed, Mr. Kite. I find you are
fairly entered into your recruiting strain--Pray what success?

_Kite._ I've been here a week, and I've recruited five.

_Plume._ Five! pray what are they?

_Kite._ I have listed the strong man of Kent, the king of the gipsies, a
Scotch pedlar, a scoundrel attorney, and a Welsh parson.

_Plume._ An attorney! wert thou mad? list a lawyer! discharge him,
discharge him, this minute.

_Kite._ Why, sir?

_Plume._ Because I will have nobody in my company that can write; a
fellow that can write, can draw petitions--I say this minute discharge
him.

_Kite._ And what shall I do with the parson?

_Plume._ Can he write?

_Kite._ Hum? he plays rarely upon the fiddle.

_Plume._ Keep him, by all means--But how stands the country affected?
were the people pleased with the news of my coming to town?

_Kite._ Sir, the mob are so pleased with your honour, and the justices
and better sort of people, are so delighted with me, that we shall soon
do your business----But, sir, you have got a recruit here, that you
little think of.

_Plume._ Who?

_Kite._ One that you beat up for the last time you were in the country.
You remember your old friend Molly, at the Castle?

_Plume._ She's not with child, I hope?

_Kite._ She was brought to-bed yesterday.

_Plume._ Kite, you must father the child.

_Kite._ And so her friends will oblige me to marry the mother.

_Plume._ If they should, we'll take her with us; she can wash, you
know, and make a bed upon occasion.

_Kite._ Ay, or unmake it upon occasion. But your honour knows that I am
married already.

_Plume._ To how many?

_Kite._ I can't tell readily--I have set them down here upon the back of
the muster-roll. [_Draws it out._] Let me see--_Imprimis_, Mrs. Shely
Snikereyes; she sells potatoes upon Ormond key, in Dublin--Peggy Guzzle,
the brandy woman at the Horse Guards, at Whitehall--Dolly Waggon, the
carrier's daughter, at Hull--Mademoiselle Van Bottomflat, at the
Buss--then Jenny Oakum, the ship-carpenter's widow, at Portsmouth; but
I don't reckon upon her, for she was married at the same time to two
lieutenants of marines, and a man of war's boatswain.

_Plume._ A full company--you have named five--come, make them half a
dozen--Kite, is the child a boy, or a girl?

_Kite._ A chopping boy.

_Plume._ Then set the mother down in your list, and the boy in mine;
enter him a grenadier, by the name of Francis Kite, absent upon
furlow--I'll allow you a man's pay for his subsistence; and now, go
comfort the wench in the straw.

_Kite._ I shall, sir.

_Plume._ But hold, have you made any use of your fortune-teller's habit
since you arrived?

_Kite._ Yes, yes, sir; and my fame's all about the country for the most
faithful fortune-teller that ever told a lie--I was obliged to let my
landlord into the secret, for the convenience of keeping it so; but he
is an honest fellow, and will be faithful to any roguery that is trusted
to him. This device, sir, will get you men, and me, money, which, I
think, is all we want at present--But yonder comes your friend, Mr.
Worthy--Has your honour any further commands?

_Plume._ None at present. [_Exit_ KITE.] 'Tis indeed, the picture of
Worthy, but the life is departed.


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

What, arms across, Worthy! methinks you should hold them open when a
friend's so near--The man has got the vapours in his ears, I believe. I
must expel this melancholy spirit.

  _Spleen, thou worst of fiends below,_
  _Fly, I conjure thee, by this magic blow._
                          [_Slaps_ WORTHY _on the Shoulder_.

_Wor._ Plume! my dear captain! welcome. Safe and sound returned!

_Plume._ I escaped safe from Germany, and sound, I hope, from London:
you see I have lost neither leg, arm, nor nose. Then for my inside,
'tis neither troubled with sympathies, nor antipathies; and I have an
excellent stomach for roast beef.

_Wor._ Thou art a happy fellow: once I was so.

_Plume._ What ails thee, man? no inundations nor earthquakes, in Wales,
I hope? Has your father rose from the dead, and reassumed his estate?

_Wor._ No.

_Plume._ Then you are married, surely?

_Wor._ No.

_Plume._ Then you are mad, or turning quaker?

_Wor._ Come, I must out with it.----Your once gay, roving friend, is
dwindled into an obsequious, thoughtful, romantic, constant coxcomb.

_Plume._ And pray, what is all this for?

_Wor._ For a woman.

_Plume._ Shake hands, brother. If you go to that, behold me as
obsequious, as thoughtful, and as constant a coxcomb, as your worship.

_Wor._ For whom?

_Plume._ For a regiment--but for a woman! 'Sdeath! I have been constant
to fifteen at a time, but never melancholy for one: and can the love of
one bring you into this condition? Pray, who is this wonderful Helen?

_Wor._ A Helen, indeed! not to be won under ten years' siege; as great a
beauty, and as great a jilt.

_Plume._ A jilt! pho! is she as great a whore?

_Wor._ No, no.

_Plume._ 'Tis ten thousand pities!--But who is she?--do I know her?

_Wor._ Very well.

_Plume._ That's impossible----I know no woman that will hold out a ten
years' siege.

_Wor._ What think you of Melinda?

_Plume._ Melinda! why she began to capitulate this time twelvemonth, and
offered to surrender upon honourable terms: and I advised you to propose
a settlement of five hundred pounds a year to her, before I went last
abroad.

_Wor._ I did, and she hearkened to it, desiring only one week to
consider--when beyond her hopes the town was relieved, and I forced to
turn the siege into a blockade.

_Plume._ Explain, explain.

_Wor._ My Lady Richly, her aunt in Flintshire, dies, and leaves her, at
this critical time, twenty thousand pounds.

_Plume._ Oh, the devil! what a delicate woman was there spoiled! But, by
the rules of war, now----Worthy, blockade was foolish--After such a
convoy of provisions was entered the place, you could have no thought of
reducing it by famine; you should have redoubled your attacks, taken the
town by storm, or have died upon the breach.

_Wor._ I did make one general assault, but was so vigorously repulsed,
that, despairing of ever gaining her for a mistress, I have altered my
conduct, given my addresses the obsequious, and distant turn, and court
her now for a wife.

_Plume._ So, as you grew obsequious, she grew haughty, and, because you
approached her like a goddess, she used you like a dog.

_Wor._ Exactly.

_Plume._ 'Tis the way of them all----Come, Worthy, your obsequious
and distant airs will never bring you together; you must not think to
surmount her pride by your humility. Would you bring her to better
thoughts of you, she must be reduced to a meaner opinion of herself.
Let me see, the very first thing that I would do, should be, to lie with
her chambermaid, and hire three or four wenches in the neighbourhood to
report, that I had got them with child--Suppose we lampooned all the
pretty women in town, and left her out; or, what if we made a ball, and
forgot to invite her, with one or two of the ugliest.

_Wor._ These would be mortifications I must confess; but we live in such
a precise, dull place, that we can have no balls, no lampoons, no----

_Plume._ What, no bastards! and so many recruiting officers in town! I
thought 'twas a maxim among them, to leave as many recruits in the
country as they carried out.

_Wor._ Nobody doubts your good will, noble captain, in serving your
country; witness our friend Molly at the Castle; there have been tears
in town about that business, captain.

_Plume._ I hope Sylvia has not heard of it.

_Wor._ Oh, sir, have you thought of her? I began to fancy you had forgot
poor Sylvia.

_Plume._ Your affairs had quite put mine out of my head. 'Tis true,
Sylvia and I had once agreed to go to bed together, could we have
adjusted preliminaries; but she would have the wedding before
consummation, and I was for consummation before the wedding: we could
not agree.

_Wor._ But do you intend to marry upon no other conditions?

_Plume._ Your pardon, sir, I'll marry upon no condition at all--If I
should, I am resolved never to bind myself down to a woman for my whole
life, till I know whether I shall like her company for half an hour.
Suppose I married a woman without a leg--such a thing might be, unless I
examined the goods before-hand.--If people would but try one another's
constitutions before they engaged, it would prevent all these
elopements, divorces, and the devil knows what.

_Wor._ Nay, for that matter, the town did not stick to say that----

_Plume._ I hate country towns for that reason.--If your town has a
dishonourable thought of Sylvia, it deserves to be burnt to the
ground--I love Sylvia, I admire her frank, generous disposition--there's
something in that girl more than woman--In short, were I once a general,
I would marry her.

_Wor._ 'Faith, you have reason--for were you but a corporal, she would
marry you--but my Melinda coquets it with every fellow she sees--I'll
lay fifty pounds she makes love to you.

_Plume._ I'll lay you a hundred, that I return it if she does--Look ye,
Worthy, I'll win her, and give her to you afterwards.

_Wor._ If you win her, you shall wear her, 'faith; I would not value the
conquest, without the credit of the victory.


     _Enter_ KITE.

_Kite._ Captain, captain! a word in your ear.

_Plume._ You may speak out, here are none but friends.

_Kite._ You know, sir, that you sent me to comfort the good woman in the
straw, Mrs. Molly--my wife, Mr. Worthy.

_Wor._ O ho! very well. I wish you joy, Mr. Kite.

_Kite._ Your worship very well may--for I have got both a wife and a
child in half an hour--But as I was saying--you sent me to comfort Mrs.
Molly--my wife, I mean--but what d'ye think, sir? she was better
comforted before I came.

_Plume._ As how?

_Kite._ Why, sir, a footman in a blue livery had brought her ten guineas
to buy her baby-clothes.

_Plume._ Who, in the name of wonder, could send them?

_Kite._ Nay, sir, I must whisper that--Mrs. Sylvia.

_Plume._ Sylvia! generous creature!

_Wor._ Sylvia! impossible!

_Kite._ Here are the guineas, sir--I took the gold as part of my wife's
portion. Nay, farther, sir, she sent word the child should be taken all
imaginable care of, and that she intended to stand godmother. The same
footman, as I was coming to you with this news, called after me, and
told me, that his lady would speak to me--I went, and upon hearing that
you were come to town, she gave me half a guinea for the news, and
ordered me to tell you, that Justice Balance, her father, who is just
come out of the country, would be glad to see you.

_Plume._ There's a girl for you, Worthy!--Is there any thing of woman in
this? no, 'tis noble, generous, manly friendship. Show me another woman
that would lose an inch of her prerogative that way, without tears,
fits, and reproaches. The common jealousy of her sex, which is nothing
but their avarice of pleasure, she despises, and can part with the
lover, though she dies for the man--Come, Worthy--where's the best
wine? for there I'll quarter.

_Wor._ At Horton's.

_Plume._ Let's away, then.--Mr. Kite, go to the lady, with my humble
service, and tell her, I shall only refresh a little, and wait upon her.

_Wor._ Hold, Kite--have you seen the other recruiting captain?

_Kite._ No, sir; I'd have you to know I don't keep such company.

_Plume._ Another! who is he?

_Wor._ My rival, in the first place, and the most unaccountable
fellow--but I'll tell you more as we go. [_Exeunt._


SCENE II.

_An Apartment._

MELINDA _and_ SYLVIA _meeting_.


_Mel._ Welcome to town, cousin Sylvia. [_Salute._] I envied you your
retreat in the country; for Shrewsbury, methinks, and all your heads of
shires, are the most irregular places for living: here we have smoke,
scandal, affectation, and pretension; in short, every thing to give the
spleen--and nothing to divert it--then the air is intolerable.

_Syl._ Oh, madam! I have heard the town commended for its air.

_Mel._ But you don't consider, Sylvia, how long I have lived in it; for
I can assure you that to a lady the least nice in her constitution--no
air can be good above half a year. Change of air I take to be the most
agreeable of any variety in life.

_Syl._ As you say, cousin Melinda, there are several sorts of airs.

_Mel._ Psha! I talk only of the air we breathe, or more properly of that
we taste--Have not you, Sylvia, found a vast difference in the taste of
airs?

_Syl._ Pray, cousin, are not vapours a sort of air? Taste air! you might
as well tell me I may feed upon air! but pr'ythee, my dear Melinda!
don't put on such an air to me. Your education and mine were just the
same, and I remember the time when we never troubled our heads about
air, but when the sharp air from the Welsh mountains made our fingers
ache in a cold morning, at the boarding-school.

_Mel._ Our education, cousin, was the same, but our temperaments had
nothing alike; you have the constitution of an horse.

_Syl._ So far as to be troubled neither with spleen, cholic, nor
vapours. I need no salts for my stomach, no hartshorn for my head,
nor wash for my complexion; I can gallop all the morning after the
hunting-horn, and all the evening after a fiddle. In short, I can do
every thing with my father, but drink and shoot flying; and I am sure
I can do every thing my mother could, were I put to the trial.

_Mel._ You are in a fair way of being put to't, for I am told your
captain is come to town.

_Syl._ Ay, Melinda, he is come, and I'll take care he shan't go without
a companion.

_Mel._ You are certainly mad, cousin!

 _Syl._ "And there's a pleasure in being mad,
         Which none but madmen know."

_Mel._ Thou poor romantic Quixote!--hast thou the vanity to imagine that
a young sprightly officer, that rambles o'er half the globe in half a
year, can confine his thoughts to the little daughter of a country
justice, in an obscure part of the world?

_Syl._ Psha! what care I for his thoughts; I should not like a man with
confined thoughts; it shows a narrowness of soul. In short, Melinda, I
think a petticoat a mighty simple thing, and I am heartily tired of my
sex.

_Mel._ That is, you are tired of an appendix to our sex, that you can't
so handsomely get rid of in petticoats as if you were in breeches.--O'my
conscience, Sylvia, hadst thou been a man, thou hadst been the greatest
rake in Christendom.

_Syl._ I should have endeavoured to know the world, which a man can
never do thoroughly without half a hundred friendships, and as many
amours. But now I think on't, how stands your affair with Mr. Worthy?

_Mel._ He's my aversion.

_Syl._ Vapours!

_Mel._ What do you say, madam?

_Syl._ I say, that you should not use that honest fellow so inhumanly:
he's a gentleman of parts and fortune, and besides that, he's my Plume's
friend; and by all that's sacred, if you don't use him better, I shall
expect satisfaction.

_Mel._ Satisfaction! you begin to fancy yourself in breeches in good
earnest--But, to be plain with you, I like Worthy the worse for being so
intimate with your captain; for I take him to be a loose, idle,
unmannerly coxcomb.

_Syl._ Oh, Madam! you never saw him, perhaps, since you were mistress of
twenty thousand pounds: you only knew him when you were capitulating
with Worthy for a settlement, which perhaps might encourage him to be a
little loose and unmannerly with you.

_Mel._ What do you mean, madam?

_Syl._ My meaning needs no interpretation, madam.

_Mel._ Better it had, madam; for methinks you are too plain.

_Syl._ If you mean the plainness of my person, I think your ladyship's
as plain as me to the full.

_Mel._ Were I sure of that, I would be glad to take up with a rakehelly
officer, as you do.

_Syl._ Again! lookye, madam, you are in your own house.

_Mel._ And if you had kept in yours, I should have excused you.

_Syl._ Don't be troubled, madam; I shan't desire to have my visit
returned.

_Mel._ The sooner, therefore, you make an end of this, the better.

_Syl._ I am easily persuaded to follow my inclinations; and so, madam,
your humble servant. [_Exit._

_Mel._ Saucy thing!


     _Enter_ LUCY.

_Lucy._ What's the matter, madam?

_Mel._ Did not you see the proud nothing, how she swelled upon the
arrival of her fellow?

_Lucy._ Her fellow has not been long enough arrived, to occasion any
great swelling, madam; I don't believe she has seen him yet.

_Mel._ Nor shan't, if I can help it.--Let me see--I have it; bring me
pen and ink--Hold, I'll go write in my closet.

_Lucy._ An answer to this letter, I hope, madam? [_Presents a Letter._

_Mel._ Who sent it?

_Lucy._ Your captain, madam.

_Mel._ He's a fool, and I'm tired of him: send it back unopened.

_Lucy._ The messenger's gone, madam.

_Mel._ Then how should I send an answer? Call him back immediately,
while I go write. [_Exeunt._




ACT THE SECOND.


SCENE I.

_An Apartment._

_Enter_ JUSTICE BALANCE _and_ PLUME.


_Bal._ Lookye, captain, give us but blood for our money, and you shan't
want men. Ad's my life, captain, get us but another marshal of France,
and I'll go myself for a soldier.

_Plume._ Pray, Mr. Balance, how does your fair daughter?

_Bal._ Ah, captain! what is my daughter to a marshal of France? we're
upon a nobler subject; I want to have a particular description of the
last battle.

_Plume._ The battle, sir, was a very pretty battle as any one should
desire to see; but we were all so intent upon victory, that we never
minded the battle: all that I know of the matter is, our general
commanded us to beat the French, and we did so; and, if he pleases but
to say the word, we'll do it again. But pray, sir, how does Mrs. Sylvia?

_Bal._ Still upon Sylvia! for shame, captain! you are engaged
already--wedded to the war: victory is your mistress, and 'tis below a
soldier to think of any other.

_Plume._ As a mistress, I confess--but as a friend, Mr. Balance----

_Bal._ Come, come, captain, never mince the matter; would not you
seduce my daughter, if you could?

_Plume._ How, sir? I hope she is not to be seduced.

_Bal._ 'Faith, but she is, sir; and any woman in England of her age and
complexion, by your youth and vigour. Lookye, captain, once I was young,
and once an officer, as you are, and I can guess at your thoughts now by
what mine were then; and I remember very well that I would have given
one of my legs to have deluded the daughter of an old country gentleman
like me, as I was then like you.

_Plume._ But, sir, was that country gentleman your friend and
benefactor?

_Bal._ Not much of that.

_Plume._ There the comparison breaks: the favours, sir, that----

_Bal._ Pho, pho! I hate set speeches: if I have done you any service,
captain, it was to please myself. I love thee, and if I could part with
my girl, you should have her as soon as any young fellow I know; but I
hope you have more honour than to quit the service, and she more
prudence than to follow the camp: but she's at her own disposal; she has
five thousand pounds in her pocket, and so--Sylvia, Sylvia! [_Calls._


     _Enter_ SYLVIA.

_Syl._ There are some letters, sir, come by the post from London; I left
them upon the table in your closet.

_Bal._ And here is a gentleman from Germany.--[_Presents_ PLUME _to
her_.] Captain, you'll excuse me; I'll go read my letters, and wait on
you. [_Exit._

_Syl._ Sir, you are welcome to England.

_Plume._ You are indebted to me a welcome, madam, since the hopes of
receiving it from this fair hand was the principal cause of my seeing
England.

_Syl._ I have often heard that soldiers were sincere; may I venture to
believe public report?

_Plume._ You may, when 'tis backed by private insurance; for I swear,
madam, by the honour of my profession, that whatever dangers I went
upon, it was with the hope of making myself more worthy of your esteem;
and if ever I had thoughts of preserving my life, 'twas for the pleasure
of dying at your feet.

_Syl._ Well, well, you shall die at my feet, or where you will; but you
know, sir, there is a certain will and testament to be made beforehand.

_Plume._ My will, madam, is made already, and there it is; and if you
please to open that parchment, which was drawn the evening before the
battle of Hockstet, you will find whom I left my heir.

Syl. _Mrs. Sylvia Balance._ [_Opens the Will, and reads._] Well,
captain, this is a handsome and substantial compliment; but I can assure
you I am much better pleased with the bare knowledge of your intention,
than I should have been in the possession of your legacy: but, methinks,
sir, you should have left something to your little boy at the Castle.

_Plume._ That's home. [_Aside._] My little boy! lack-a-day, madam!
that alone may convince you 'twas none of mine: why, the girl, madam,
is my serjeant's wife, and so the poor creature gave out that I was
the father, in hopes that my friends might support her in case of
necessity.--That was all, madam--my boy! no, no, no!


     _Enter a_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Madam, my master has received some ill news from London, and
desires to speak with you immediately; and he begs the captain's pardon,
that he can't wait on him, as he promised.

_Plume._ Ill news! Heavens avert it! nothing could touch me nearer than
to see that generous, worthy gentleman afflicted. I'll leave you to
comfort him; and be assured that if my life and fortune can be any way
serviceable to the father of my Sylvia, he shall freely command both.

_Syl._ The necessity must be very pressing that would engage me to
endanger either. [_Exeunt severally._


SCENE II.

_Another Apartment._

_Enter_ BALANCE _and_ SYLVIA.


_Syl._ Whilst there is life there is hope, sir; perhaps my brother may
recover.

_Bal._ We have but little reason to expect it; the doctor acquaints
me here, that before this comes to my hands he fears I shall have no
son.--Poor Owen! but the decree is just; I was pleased with the death of
my father, because he left me an estate; and now I am punished with the
loss of an heir to inherit mine. I must now look upon you as the only
hopes of my family; and I expect that the augmentation of your fortune
will give you fresh thoughts and new prospects.

_Syl._ My desire in being punctual in my obedience, requires that you
would be plain in your commands, sir.

_Bal._ The death of your brother makes you sole heiress to my estate,
which you know is about three thousand pounds a year: this fortune gives
you a fair claim to quality and a title: you must set a just value upon
yourself, and, in plain terms, think no more of Captain Plume.

_Syl._ You have often commended the gentleman, sir.

_Bal._ And I do so still; he's a very pretty fellow; but though I liked
him well enough for a bare son-in-law, I don't approve of him for an
heir to my estate and family; five thousand pounds indeed I might trust
in his hands, and it might do the young fellow a kindness; but--od's
my life! three thousand pounds a year would ruin him, quite turn his
brain--A captain of foot worth three thousand pounds a year! 'tis a
prodigy in nature!


     _Enter a_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Sir, here's one with a letter below for your worship, but he
will deliver it into no hands but your own.

_Bal._ Come, show me the messenger. [_Exit with_ SERVANT.

_Syl._ Make the dispute between love and duty, and I am prince Prettyman
exactly.--If my brother dies, ah, poor brother! if he lives, ah, poor
sister! It is bad both ways, I'll try it again--Follow my own
inclinations, and break my father's heart; or obey his commands, and
break my own? Worse and worse.--Suppose I take it thus: A moderate
fortune, a pretty fellow, and a pad; or a fine estate, a coach and six,
and an ass.--That will never do neither.


     _Enter_ BALANCE _and a_ SERVANT.

_Bal._ Put four horses to the coach. [_To a_ SERVANT, _who goes out_.]
Ho, Sylvia!

_Syl._ Sir.

_Bal._ How old were you when your mother died?

_Syl._ So young that I don't remember I ever had one; and you have been
so careful, so indulgent to me since, that indeed I never wanted one.

_Bal._ Have I ever denied you any thing you asked of me?

_Syl._ Never, that I remember.

_Bal._ Then, Sylvia, I must beg that once in your life you would grant
me a favour.

_Syl._ Why should you question it, sir?

_Bal._ I don't; but I would rather counsel than command. I don't propose
this with the authority of a parent, but as the advice of your friend,
that you would take the coach this moment, and go into the country.

_Syl._ Does this advice, sir, proceed from the contents of the letter
you received just now?

_Bal._ No matter; I will be with you in three or four days, and then
give my reasons: but before you go, I expect you will make me one solemn
promise.

_Syl._ Propose the thing, sir.

_Bal._ That you will never dispose of yourself to any man without my
consent.

_Syl._ I promise.

_Bal._ Very well; and to be even with you, I promise I never will
dispose of you without your own consent: and so, Sylvia, the coach is
ready. Farewell. [_Leads her to the Door, and returns._] Now, she's
gone, I'll examine the contents of this letter a little nearer.
[_Reads._

     SIR,

     _My intimacy with Mr. Worthy has drawn a secret from him,
     that he had from his friend Captain Plume; and my friendship
     and relation to your family oblige me to give you timely
     notice of it. The captain has dishonourable designs upon my
     cousin Sylvia. Evils of this nature are more easily
     prevented than amended; and that you would immediately send
     my cousin into the country, is the advice of_,
                                      _Sir, your humble servant_,

                                                        MELINDA.

Why, the devil's in the young fellows of this age; they are ten times
worse than they were in my time: had he made my daughter a whore, and
forswore it, like a gentleman, I could almost have pardoned it; but to
tell tales beforehand is monstrous.--Hang it! I can fetch down a
woodcock or a snipe, and why not a hat and cockade? I have a case of
good pistols, and have a good mind to try.


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

Worthy, your servant.

_Wor._ I'm sorry, sir, to be the messenger of ill news.

_Bal._ I apprehend it, sir; you have heard that my son Owen is past
recovery.

_Wor._ My letters say he's dead, sir.

_Bal._ He's happy, and I am satisfied: the stroke of Heaven I can bear;
but injuries from men, Mr. Worthy, are not so easily supported.

_Wor._ I hope, sir, you are under no apprehensions of wrong from any
body.

_Bal._ You know I ought to be.

_Wor._ You wrong my honour, in believing I could know any thing to your
prejudice, without resenting it as much as you should.

_Bal._ This letter, sir, which I tear in pieces, to conceal the person
that sent it, informs me that Plume has a design upon Sylvia, and that
you are privy to it.

_Wor._ Nay, then, sir, I must do myself justice, and endeavour to find
out the author. [_Takes up a Bit._]--Sir, I know the hand, and if you
refuse to discover the contents, Melinda shall tell me. [_Going._

_Bal._ Hold, sir; the contents I have told you already; only with this
circumstance--that her intimacy with Mr. Worthy had drawn the secret
from him.

_Wor._ Her intimacy with me! Dear sir! let me pick up the pieces of this
letter, 'twill give me such a power over her pride to have her own an
intimacy under her hand.--This was the luckiest accident! [_Gathering up
the Letter._] The aspersion, sir, was nothing but malice; the effect of
a little quarrel between her and Mrs. Sylvia.

_Bal._ Are you sure of that, sir?

_Wor._ Her maid gave me the history of part of the battle just now, as
she overheard it: but I hope, sir, your daughter has suffered nothing
upon the account.

_Bal._ No, no, poor girl! she's so afflicted with the news of her
brother's death, that, to avoid company, she begged leave to go into the
country.

_Wor._ And is she gone?

_Bal._ I could not refuse her, she was so pressing; the coach went from
the door the minute before you came.

_Wor._ So pressing to be gone, sir?--I find her fortune will give her
the same airs with Melinda, and then Plume and I may laugh at one
another.

_Bal._ Like enough; women are as subject to pride as men are; and why
mayn't great women as well as great men forget their old acquaintance?
But come, where's this young fellow? I love him so well, it would break
the heart of me to think him a rascal.--I am glad my daughter's gone
fairly off though.--[_Aside._] Where does the captain quarter?

_Wor._ At Horton's; I am to meet him there two hours hence, and we
should be glad of your company.

_Bal._ Your pardon, dear Worthy! I must allow a day or two to the death
of my son. The decorum of mourning is what we owe the world, because
they pay it to us; afterwards I'm yours over a bottle, or how you will.

_Wor._ Sir, I'm your humble servant. [_Exeunt apart._


SCENE III.

_The Street._

_Enter_ KITE, _with_ COSTAR PEARMAIN _in one Hand, and_ THOMAS APPLETREE
_in the other, drunk_.


KITE _sings_.

  _Our 'prentice Tom may now refuse_
  _To wipe his scoundrel master's shoes,_
  _For now he's free to sing and play_
  _Over the hills and far away._
        _Over, &c._

     [The Mob sing the Chorus.

  _We shall lead more happy lives_
  _By getting rid of brats and wives,_
  _That scold and brawl both night and day,_
  _Over the hills and far away._
        _Over, &c._

_Kite._ Hey, boys! thus we soldiers live! drink, sing, dance, play;--we
live, as one should say--we live--'tis impossible to tell how we
live--we are all princes--why, why you are a king--you are an emperor,
and I'm a prince--now, an't we?

_Tho._ No serjeant, I'll be no emperor.

_Kite._ No!

_Tho._ I'll be a justice of peace.

_Kite._ A justice of peace, man!

_Tho._ Ay, wauns will I; for since this pressing act, they are greater
than any emperor under the sun.

_Kite._ Done; you are a justice of peace, and you are a king, and I am a
duke, and a rum duke, an't I?

_Cost._ I'll be a queen.

_Kite._ A queen.

_Cost._ Ay, of England, that's greater than any king of them all.

_Kite._ Bravely said, 'faith! huzza for the queen. [_Huzza._] But
harkye, you Mr. Justice, and you Mr. Queen, did you ever see the king's
picture?

_Both._ No! no! no!

_Kite._ I wonder at that; I have two of them set in gold, and as like
his majesty, God bless the mark! see here, they are set in gold.

     [_Takes two broad pieces out of his pocket; presents one to
     each._

_Tho._ The wonderful works of nature! [_Looking at it._

What's this written about? here's a posy, I believe.--Ca-ro-lus!--what's
that, serjeant?

_Kite._ O! Carolus! why, Carolus is Latin for King George; that's all.

_Cost._ Tis a fine thing to be a scollard.--Serjeant, will you part with
this? I'll buy it on you, if it come within the compass of a crown.

_Kite._ A crown! never talk of buying; 'tis the same thing among
friends, you know; I'll present them to ye both: you shall give me as
good a thing. Put them up, and remember your old friend when I am over
the hills and far away. [_They sing, and put up the Money._


     _Enter_ PLUME, _singing_.

  _Over the hills and over the main,_
  _To Flanders, Portugal, or Spain_
  _The king commands and we'll obey,_
  _Over the hills and far away._

Come on my men of mirth, away with it; I'll make one among ye. Who are
these hearty lads?

_Kite._ Off with your hats; 'ounds! off with your hats: this is the
captain, the captain.

_Tho._ We have seen captains afore now, mun.

_Cost._ Ay, and lieutenant-captains too. 'Sflesh! I'll keep on my nab.

_Tho._ And I'se scarcely d'off mine for any captain in England. My
vether's a freeholder.

_Plume._ Who are those jolly lads, serjeant?

_Kite._ A couple of honest brave fellows that are willing to serve the
king: I have entertained them just now as volunteers, under your
honour's command.

_Plume._ And good entertainment they shall have: volunteers are the men
I want; those are the men fit to make soldiers, captains, generals.

_Cost._ Wounds, Tummas, what's this! are you listed?

_Tho._ Flesh! not I: are you, Costar?

_Cost._ Wounds! not I.

_Kite._ What! not listed? ha! ha! ha! a very good jest, i'faith.

_Cost._ Come, Tummus, we'll go home.

_Tho._ Ay, ay, come.

_Kite._ Home! for shame, gentlemen; behave yourselves better before your
captain. Dear Tummas, honest Costar!

_Tho._ No, no! we'll be gone.

_Kite._ Nay, then, I command you to stay: I place you both centinels in
this place for two hours, to watch the motion of St. Mary's clock you,
and you the motion of St. Chad's; and he, that dares stir from his post
till he be relieved, shall have my sword in his guts the next minute.

_Plume._ What's the matter, serjeant? I'm afraid you are too rough with
these gentlemen.

_Kite._ I'm too mild, sir; they disobey command, sir; and one of them
should be shot, for an example to the other.

_Cost._ Shot! Tummas?

_Plume._ Come, gentlemen, what's the matter?

_Tho._ We don't know; the noble serjeant is pleas'd to be in a passion,
sir; but----

_Kite._ They disobey command; they deny their being listed.

_Tho._ Nay, serjeant, we don't downright deny it, neither; that we dare
not do, for fear of being shot; but we humbly conceive, in a civil way,
and begging your worship's pardon, that we may go home.

_Plume._ That's easily known. Have either of you received any of the
king's money?

_Cost._ Not a brass farthing, sir.

_Kite._ They have each of them received one-and-twenty shillings, and
'tis now in their pockets.

_Cost._ Wounds! if I have a penny in my pocket but a bent sixpence, I'll
be content to be listed and shot into the bargain.

_Tho._ And I: look ye here, sir.

_Cost._ Nothing but the king's picture, that the serjeant gave me just
now.

_Kite._ See there, a guinea, one and twenty shillings; t'other has the
fellow on't.

_Plume._ The case is plain, gentlemen: the goods are found upon you:
those pieces of gold are worth one-and-twenty shillings each.

_Cost._ So it seems that Carolus is one-and-twenty shillings in Latin.

_Tho._ 'Tis the same thing in Greek, for we are listed.

_Cost._ Flesh; but we an't, Tummus: I desire to be carried before the
mayor, captain.

                            [CAPTAIN _and_ SERJEANT _whisper the while._

_Plume._ 'Twill never do, Kite--your damned tricks will ruin me at
last--I won't lose the fellows, though, if I can help it.--Well,
gentlemen, there must be some trick in this; my serjeant offers to take
his oath that you are fairly listed.

_Tho._ Why, captain, we know that you soldiers have more liberty of
conscience than other folks; but for me or neighbour Costar here to take
such an oath, 'twould be downright perjuration.

_Plume._ Lookye, rascal, you villain! If I find that you have imposed
upon these two honest fellows, I'll trample you to death, you dog--Come,
how was't?

_Tho._ Nay, then we'll speak. Your serjeant, as you say, is a rogue,
an't like your worship, begging your worship's pardon--and--

_Cost._ Nay, Tummus, let me speak, you know I can read.----And so, sir,
he gave us those two pieces of money for pictures of the king, by way of
a present.

_Plume._ How? by way of a present! the son of a whore! I'll teach him to
abuse honest fellows like you!--scoundrel! rogue! villain!

                                 [_Beats off the Serjeant, and follows._

_Both._ O brave noble captain! huzza! A brave captain, 'faith!

_Cost._ Now, Tummas, Carolus is Latin for a beating. This is the bravest
captain I ever saw--Wounds! I've a month's mind to go with him.


     _Enter_ PLUME.

_Plume._ A dog, to abuse two such honest fellows as you.--Lookye,
gentlemen, I love a pretty fellow; I come among you as an officer to
list soldiers, not as a kidnapper to steal slaves.

_Cost._ Mind that, Tummas.

_Plume._ I desire no man to go with me but as I went myself; I went a
volunteer, as you or you may do; for a little time carried a musket, and
now I command a company.

_Tho._ Mind that, Costar. A sweet gentleman!

_Plume._ Tis true, gentlemen, I might take an advantage of you; the
king's money was in your pockets--my serjeant was ready to take his oath
you were listed; but I scorn to do a base thing; you are both of you at
your liberty.

_Cost._ Thank you, noble captain----Icod! I can't find in my heart to
leave him, he talks so finely.

_Tho._ Ay, Costar, would he always hold in this mind.

_Plume._ Come, my lads, one thing more I'll tell you: you're both young
tight fellows, and the army is the place to make you men for ever: every
man has his lot, and you have yours: what think you of a purse of French
gold out of a monsieur's pocket, after you have dashed out his brains
with the but end of your firelock, eh?

_Cost._ Wauns! I'll have it. Captain--give me a shilling; I'll follow
you to the end of the world.

_Tho._ Nay, dear Costar! do'na: be advis'd.

_Plume._ Here, my hero, here are two guineas for thee, as earnest of
what I'll do farther for thee.

_Tho._ Do'na take it; do'na, dear Costar.

                                       [_Cries, and pulls back his Arm._

_Cost._ I wull--I wull--Waunds! my mind gives me that I shall be a
captain myself--I take your money, sir, and now I am a gentleman.

_Plume._ Give me thy hand; and now you and I will travel the world o'er,
and command it wherever we tread.--Bring your friend with you, if you
can. [_Aside._

_Cost._ Well, Tummas, must we part?

_Tho._ No, Costar, I cannot leave thee.--Come, captain, I'll e'en go
along too; and if you have two honester simpler lads in your company
than we two have been, I'll say no more.

_Plume._ Here, my lad. [_Gives him Money._] Now, your name?

_Tho._ Tummas Appletree.

_Plume._ And yours?

_Cost._ Costar Pearmain.

_Plume._ Well said, Costar! Born where?

_Tho._ Both in Herefordshire.

_Plume._ Very well. Courage, my lads. Now we'll

 Sings. _Over the hills, and far away._
        _Courage, boys, it's one to ten_
        _But we return all gentlemen;_
        _While conq'ring colours we display,_
        _Over the hills, and far away._

Kite, take care of them.


     _Enter_ KITE.

_Kite._ An't you a couple of pretty fellows, now! Here, you have
complained to the captain; I am to be turned out, and one of you will be
serjeant. Which of you is to have my halberd?

_Both Rec._ I.

_Kite._ So you shall--in your guts.--March, you sons of whores! [_Beats
them off._




ACT THE THIRD.


SCENE I.

_The Market Place._

_Enter_ PLUME _and_ WORTHY.


_Wor._ I cannot forbear admiring the equality of our fortunes: we love
two ladies, they meet us half way, and just as we were upon the point
of leaping into their arms, fortune drops in their laps, pride possesses
their hearts, a maggot fills their heads, madness takes them by the
tails; they snort, kick up their heels, and away they run.

_Plume._ And leave us here to mourn upon the shore--a couple of poor
melancholy monsters. What shall we do?

_Wor._ I have a trick for mine; the letter, you know, and the
fortune-teller.

_Plume._ And I have a trick for mine.

_Wor._ What is't?

_Plume._ I'll never think of her again.

_Wor._ No!

_Plume._ No; I think myself above administering to the pride of any
woman, were she worth twelve thousand a-year; and I ha'n't the vanity to
believe I shall gain a lady worth twelve hundred. The generous,
goodnatured Sylvia, in her smock, I admire; but the haughty and scornful
Sylvia, with her fortune, I despise.--What! sneak out of town, and not
so much as a word, a line, a compliment!--'Sdeath! how far off does she
live? I'll go and break her windows.

_Wor._ Ha! ha! ha! ay, and the window-bars too, to come at her. Come,
come, friend, no more of your rough military airs.


     _Enter_ KITE.

_Kite._ Captain! captain! Sir, look yonder; she's a-coming this way.
'Tis the prettiest, cleanest, little tit!

_Plume._ Now, Worthy, to show you how much I'm in love--here she comes.
But, Kite, what is that great country fellow with her?

_Kite._ I can't tell, sir.


     _Enter_ ROSE, _followed by her Brother_ BULLOCK, _with
     Chickens on her Arm, in a Basket_.

_Rose._ Buy chickens, young and tender chickens, young and tender
chickens.

_Plume._ Here, you chickens.

_Rose._ Who calls?

_Plume._ Come hither, pretty maid.

_Rose._ Will you please to buy, sir?

_Wor._ Yes, child, we'll both buy.

_Plume._ Nay, Worthy, that's not fair; market for yourself--Come, child,
I'll buy all you have.

_Rose._ Then all I have is at your service. [_Courtesies._

   [Illustration:
   RECRUITING OFFICER
   CAPTAIN PLUME--LET ME SEE; YOUNG & TENDER YOU SAY.
   ACT III SCENE I]

_Wor._ Then must I shift for myself, I find. [_Exit._

_Plume._ Let me see; young and tender, you say. [_Chucks her under the
Chin._

_Rose._ As ever you tasted in your life, sir.

_Plume._ Come, I must examine your basket to the bottom, my dear!

_Rose._ Nay, for that matter, put in your hand; feel, sir; I warrant my
ware is as good as any in the market.

_Plume._ And I'll buy it all, child, were it ten times more.

_Rose._ Sir, I can furnish you.

_Plume._ Come, then, we won't quarrel about the price; they're fine
birds.--Pray, what's your name, pretty creature!

_Rose._ Rose, sir. My father is a farmer within three short miles o' the
town: we keep this market; I sell chickens, eggs, and butter, and my
brother Bullock there sells corn.

_Bul._ Come, sister, haste--we shall be late home. [_Whistles about the
Stage._

_Plume._ Kite! [_Tips him the wink, he returns it._] Pretty Mrs.
Rose--you have--let me see--how many?

_Rose._ A dozen, sir, and they are richly worth a crown.

_Bul._ Come, Rouse; I sold fifty strake of barley to-day in half this
time; but you will higgle and higgle for a penny more than the commodity
is worth.

_Rose._ What's that to you, oaf? I can make as much out of a groat as
you can out of fourpence, I'm sure--The gentleman bids fair, and when I
meet with a chapman, I know how to make the best of him--And so, sir, I
say for a crown-piece the bargain's yours.

_Plume._ Here's a guinea, my dear!

_Rose._ I can't change your money, sir.

_Plume._ Indeed, indeed, but you can--my lodging is hard by, chicken!
and we'll make change there. [_Goes off, she follows him._

_Kite._ So, sir, as I was telling you, I have seen one of these hussars
eat up a ravelin for his breakfast, and afterwards pick his teeth with a
palisado.

_Bul._ Ay, you soldiers see very strange things; but pray, sir, what is
a rabelin?

_Kite._ Why, 'tis like a modern minc'd pie, but the crust is confounded
hard, and the plums are somewhat hard of digestion.

_Bul._ Then your palisado, pray what may he be? Come, Rouse, pray ha'
done.

_Kite._ Your palisado is a pretty sort of bodkin, about the thickness of
my leg.

_Bul._ That's a fib, I believe. [_Aside._] Eh! where's Rouse? Rouse,
Rouse! 'Sflesh! where's Rouse gone?

_Kite._ She's gone with the captain.

_Bul._ The captain! wauns! there's no pressing of women, sure.

_Kite._ But there is, sure.

_Bul._ If the captain should press Rouse, I should be ruined----Which
way went she? Oh! the devil take your rabelins and palisadoes! [_Exit._

_Kite._ You shall be better acquainted with them, honest Bullock, or I
shall miss of my aim.


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

_Wor._ Why thou art the most useful fellow in nature to your captain,
admirable in your way I find.

_Kite._ Yes, sir, I understand my business, I will say it.

_Wor._ How came you so qualified?

_Kite._ You must know, sir, I was born a gipsy, and bred among that
crew till I was ten years old; there I learned canting and lying: I was
bought from my mother Cleopatra by a certain nobleman for three
pistoles, there I learned impudence and pimping: I was turned off for
wearing my lord's linen, and drinking my lady's ratafia, and turned
bailiff's follower; there I learned bullying and swearing: I at last got
into the army; and there I learned whoring and drinking--so that if your
worship pleases to cast up the whole sum, viz. canting, lying,
impudence, pimping, bullying, swearing, whoring, drinking, and a
halberd, you will find the sum total amount to a Recruiting Serjeant.

_Wor._ And pray what induced you to turn soldier?

_Kite._ Hunger and ambition. But here comes Justice Balance.


     _Enter_ BALANCE _and_ BULLOCK.

_Bal._ Here you, serjeant, where's your captain? here's a poor foolish
fellow comes clamouring to me with a complaint that your captain has
pressed his sister. Do you know any thing of this matter, Worthy?

_Wor._ Ha! ha! ha! I know his sister is gone with Plume to his lodging,
to sell him some chickens.

_Bal._ Is that all? the fellow's a fool.

_Bul._ I know that, an't like your worship; but if your worship pleases
to grant me a warrant to bring her before your worship, for fear of the
worst.

_Bal._ Thou'rt mad, fellow; thy sister's safe enough.

_Kite._ I hope so too. [_Aside._

_Wor._ Hast thou no more sense, fellow, than to believe that the captain
can list women?

_Bul._ I know not whether they list them, or what they do with them, but
I'm sure they carry as many women as men with them out of the country.

_Bal._ But how came you not to go along with your sister?

_Bul._ Lord, sir, I thought no more of her going than I do of the day I
shall die: but this gentleman here, not suspecting any hurt neither, I
believe--you thought no harm, friend, did you?

_Kite._ Lack-a-day, sir, not I----only that I believe I shall marry her
to-morrow.

_Bal._ I begin to smell powder. Well, friend, but what did that
gentleman with you?

_Bul._ Why, sir, he entertained me with a fine story of a great
sea-fight between the Hungarians, I think it was, and the wild Irish.

_Kite._ And so, sir, while we were in the heat of battle--the captain
carried off the baggage.

_Bal._ Serjeant, go along with this fellow to your captain, give him my
humble service, and desire him to discharge the wench, though he has
listed her.

_Bul._ Ay, and if she ben't free for that, he shall have another man in
her place.

_Kite._ Come, honest friend, you shall go to my quarters instead of the
captain's. [_Aside._

                                           [_Exeunt_ KITE _and_ BULLOCK.

_Bal._ We must get this mad captain his complement of men, and send him
packing, else he'll overrun the country.

_Wor._ You see, sir, how little he values your daughter's disdain.

_Bal._ I like him the better: I was just such another fellow at his age:
But how goes your affair with Melinda?

_Wor._ Very slowly. My mistress has got a captain too, but such a
captain!--as I live, yonder he comes!

_Bal._ Who, that bluff fellow in the sash? I don't know him.

_Wor._ But I engage he knows you and every body at first sight: his
impudence were a prodigy, were not his ignorance proportionable; he has
the most universal acquaintance of any man living, for he won't be
alone, and nobody will keep him company twice: then he's a Cæsar among
the women, _veni, vidi, vici_, that's all. If he has but talked with the
maid, he swears he has lain with the mistress: but the most surprising
part of his character is his memory, which is the most prodigious and
the most trifling in the world.

_Bal._ I have known another acquire so much by travel as to tell you the
names of most places in Europe, with their distances of miles, leagues,
or hours, as punctually as a postboy; but for any thing else as ignorant
as the horse that carries the mail.

_Wor._ This is your man, sir, add but the traveller's privilege of
lying, and even that he abuses: this is the picture, behold the life.


     _Enter_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ Mr. Worthy, I'm your servant, and so forth--Harkye, my dear!

_Wor._ Whispering, sir, before company, is not manners, and when
nobody's by 'tis foolish.

_Brazen._ Company! _mort de ma vie!_ I beg the gentleman's pardon--who
is he?

_Wor._ Ask him.

_Brazen._ So I will. My dear! I am your servant, and so forth--Your
name, my dear?

_Bal._ Very laconic, sir.

_Brazen._ Laconic! a very good name truly. I have known several of the
Laconics abroad. Poor Jack Laconic! he was killed at the battle of
Landen. I remember that he had a blue ribband in his hat that very day,
and after he fell, we found a piece of neat's tongue in his pocket.

_Bal._ Pray, sir, did the French attack us, or we them, at Landen?

_Brazen._ The French attack us! No, sir, we attacked them on the----I
have reason to remember the time, for I had two-and-twenty horses killed
under me that day.

_Wor._ Then, sir, you must have rid mighty hard.

_Bal._ Or, perhaps, sir, like my countrymen, you rid upon half a dozen
horses at once.

_Brazen._ What do ye mean, gentlemen? I tell you they were killed, all
torn to pieces by cannon-shot, except six I staked to death upon the
enemy's _cheveaux de frise_.

_Bal._ Noble captain! may I crave your name?

_Brazen._ Brazen, at your service.

_Bal._ Oh, Brazen! a very good name. I have known several of the Brazens
abroad.

_Wor._ Do you know one Captain Plume, sir?

_Brazen._ Is he any thing related to Frank Plume in
Northamptonshire?--Honest Frank! many, many a dry bottle have we cracked
hand to fist. You must have known his brother Charles, that was
concerned in the India company; he married the daughter of Old
Tonguepad, the master in Chancery, a very pretty woman, only she quinted
a little; she died in child-bed of her first child, but the child
survived: 'twas a daughter, but whether it was called Margaret or
Margery, upon my soul, I can't remember. [_Looking on his Watch._] But,
gentlemen, I must meet a lady, a twenty thousand pounder, presently,
upon the walk by the water--Worthy, your servant; Laconic, yours.
                                                               [_Exit._

_Bal._ If you can have so mean an opinion of Melinda, as to be jealous
of this fellow, I think she ought to give you cause to be so.

_Wor._ I don't think she encourages him so much for gaining herself a
lover, as to set up a rival. Were there any credit to be given to his
words, I should believe Melinda had made him this assignation. I must go
see, sir, you'll pardon me. [_Exit._

_Bal._ Ay, ay, sir, you're a man of business--But what have we got here?


     _Enter_ ROSE, _singing_.

_Rose._ And I shall be a lady, a captain's lady, and ride single, upon a
white horse with a star, upon a velvet side-saddle; and I shall go to
London, and see the tombs, and the lions, and the king and queen. Sir,
an please your worship, I have often seen your worship ride through our
grounds a-hunting, begging your worship's pardon. Pray, what may this
lace be worth a-yard? [_Showing some Lace._

_Bal._ Right Mecklin, by this light! Where did you get this lace, child?

_Rose._ No matter for that, sir; I came honestly by it.

_Bal._ I question it much. [_Aside._

_Rose._ And see here, sir, a fine Turkey-shell snuff-box, and fine
mangere: see here. [_Takes Snuff affectedly._] The captain learned me
how to take it with an air.

_Bal._ Oh ho! the captain! now the murder's out. And so the captain
taught you to take it with an air?

_Rose._ Yes; and give it with an air too. Will your worship please to
taste my snuff? [_Offers the Box affectedly._

_Bal._ You are a very apt scholar, pretty maid! And pray, what did you
give the captain for these fine things?

_Rose._ He's to have my brother for a soldier, and two or three
sweethearts I have in the country; they shall all go with the captain.
Oh! he's the finest man, and the humblest withal! Would you believe it,
sir? he carried me up with him to his own chamber, with as much
fam-mam-mil-yararality, as if I had been the best lady in the land.

_Bal._ Oh! he's a mighty familiar gentleman as can be.


     _Enter_ PLUME, _singing_.

 Plume. _But it is not so_
        _With those that go_
        _Thro' frost and snow----_
        _Most apropos,_
        _My maid with the milking pail._
                             [_Takes hold of_ ROSE.

How, the justice! then I'm arraigned, condemned and executed.

_Bal._ Oh, my noble captain!

_Rose._ And my noble captain, too, sir.

_Plume._ 'Sdeath! child, are you mad?--Mr. Balance, I am so full of
business about my recruits, that I ha'n't a moment's time to----I have
just now three or four people to----

_Bal._ Nay, captain, I must speak to you--

_Rose._ And so must I too, captain.

_Plume._ Any other time, sir--I cannot, for my life, sir--

_Bal._ Pray, sir----

_Plume._ Twenty thousand things--I would--but--now, sir, pray--Devil
take me--I cannot--I must--[_Breaks away._

_Bal._ Nay, I'll follow you. [_Exit._

_Rose._ And I too. [_Exit._


SCENE II.

_The Walk by the Severn Side._

_Enter_ MELINDA _and her Maid_ LUCY.


_Mel._ And pray was it a ring, or buckle, or pendants, or knots; or in
what shape was the almighty gold transformed, that has bribed you so
much in his favour?

_Lucy._ Indeed, madam, the last bribe I had from the captain, was only a
small piece of Flanders' lace, for a cap.

_Mel._ Ay, Flanders' lace is a constant present from officers to their
women. They every year bring over a cargo of lace, to cheat the king of
his duty, and his subjects of their honesty.

_Lucy._ They only barter one sort of prohibited goods for another,
madam.

_Mel._ Has any of them been bartering with you, Mrs. Pert, that you talk
so like a trader?

_Lucy._ One would imagine, madam, by your concern for Worthy's absence,
that you should use him better when he's with you.

_Mel._ Who told you, pray, that I was concerned for his absence? I'm
only vexed that I have had nothing said to me these two days: as one may
love the treason and hate the traitor. Oh! here comes another captain,
and a rogue that has the confidence to make love to me; but indeed, I
don't wonder at that, when he has the assurance to fancy himself a fine
gentleman.

_Lucy._ If he should speak o' th' assignation I should be ruined!
[_Aside._


     _Enter_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ True to the touch, 'faith! [_Aside._] Madam, I am your humble
servant, and all that, madam. A fine river, this same Severn--Do you
love fishing, madam?

_Mel._ 'Tis a pretty melancholy amusement for lovers.

_Brazen._ I'll go and buy hooks and lines presently; for you must know,
madam, that I have served in Flanders against the French, in Hungary
against the Turks, and in Tangier against the Moors, and I was never so
much in love before; and split me, madam, in all the campaigns I ever
made, I have not seen so fine a woman as your ladyship.

_Mel._ And from all the men I ever saw, I never had so fine a
compliment: but you soldiers are the best bred men, that we must allow.

_Brazen._ Some of us, madam; but there are brutes among us too, very sad
brutes; for my own part, I have always had the good luck to prove
agreeable. I have had very considerable offers, madam--I might have
married a German princess, worth fifty thousand crowns a-year, but her
stove disgusted me. The daughter of a Turkish bashaw fell in love with
me, too, when I was a prisoner among the Infidels; she offered to rob
her father of his treasure, and make her escape with me; but I don't
know how, my time was not come: hanging and marriage, you know, go by
destiny: Fate has reserved me for a Shropshire lady, worth twenty
thousand pounds. Do you know any such person, madam?

_Mel._ Extravagant coxcomb! [_Aside._] To be sure, a great many ladies
of that fortune would be proud of the name of Mrs. Brazen.

_Brazen._ Nay, for that matter, madam, there are women of very good
quality of the name of Brazen.


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

_Mel._ Oh, are you there, gentleman?--Come, captain, we'll walk this
way. Give me your hand.

_Brazen._ My hand, heart's blood, and guts, are at your service. Mr.
Worthy, your servant, my dear! [_Exit, leading_ MELINDA.

_Wor._ Death and fire! this is not to be borne!


     _Enter_ PLUME.

_Plume._ No more it is, 'faith.

_Wor._ What?

_Plume._ The March beer at the Raven. I have been doubly serving the
king, raising men, and raising the excise. Recruiting and elections are
rare friends to the excise.

_Wor._ You a'n't drunk?

_Plume._ No, no, whimsical only; I could be mighty foolish, and fancy
myself mighty witty. Reason still keeps its throne, but it nods a
little, that's all.

_Wor._ Then you're just fit for a frolic.

_Plume._ Just so.

_Wor._ Then recover me that vessel, from that Tangerine.

_Plume._ She's well rigged, but how is she manned?

_Wor._ By Captain Brazen, that I told you of to-day; she is called the
Melinda, a first rate I can assure you; she sheered off with him just
now, on purpose to affront me; but according to your advice I would take
no notice, because I would seem to be above a concern for her behaviour;
but have a care of a quarrel.

_Plume._ No, no; I never quarrel with any thing in my cups, but an
oyster-wench, or a cookmaid, and if they ben't civil, I knock them down.
But hearkye, my friend, I'll make love, and I must make love--I tell you
what, I'll make love like a platoon.

_Wor._ Platoon! how's that?

_Plume._ I'll kneel, stoop, and stand, 'faith: most ladies are gained by
platooning.

_Wor._ Here they come; I must leave you. [_Exit._

_Plume._ So! now must I look as sober and demure as a whore at a
christening.


     _Enter_ BRAZEN _and_ MELINDA.

_Brazen._ Who's that, madam?

_Mel._ A brother officer of yours, I suppose, sir.

_Brazen._ Ay--my dear! [_To_ PLUME.

_Plume._ My dear! [_Run and embrace._

_Brazen._ My dear boy! how is't? Your name, my dear! If I be not
mistaken, I have seen your face.

_Plume._ I never saw yours in my life, my dear----but there's a face
well known as the sun's, that shines on all, and is by all adored.

_Brazen._ Have you any pretensions, sir?

_Plume._ Pretensions!

_Brazen._ That is, sir, have you ever served abroad?

_Plume._ I have served at home, sir, for ages served this cruel fair,
and that will serve the turn, sir.

_Mel._ So, between the fool and the rake, I shall bring a fine spot of
work upon my hands!

_Brazen._ Will you fight for the lady, sir?

_Plume._ No, sir, but I'll have her notwithstanding.

  _Thou peerless princess of Salopian plains,_
  _Envy'd by nymphs, and worshipp'd by the swains--_

_Brazen._ Oons, sir! not fight for her?

_Plume._ Pr'ythee be quiet--I shall be out--

  _Behold, how humbly does the Severn glide,_
  _To greet thee, princess of the Severn side._

_Brazen._ Don't mind him, madam--if he were not so well dressed, I
should take him for a poet; but I'll show you the difference presently.
Come, madam, we'll place you between us, and now the longest sword
carries her. [_Draws._

Mel. [_Shrieking._]


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

Oh, Mr. Worthy! save me from these madmen!


     [_Exit with_ WORTHY.

_Plume._ Ha! ha! ha! why don't you follow, sir, and fight the bold
ravisher?

_Brazen._ No, sir, you are my man.

_Plume._ I don't like the wages; I won't be your man.

_Brazen._ Then you're not worth my sword.

_Plume._ No; pray what did it cost?

_Brazen._ It cost me twenty pistoles in France, and my enemies thousands
of lives in Flanders.

_Plume._ Then they had a dear bargain.


     _Enter_ SYLVIA, _in Man's Apparel_.

_Syl._ Save ye, save ye! gentlemen.

_Brazen._ My dear, I'm yours.

_Plume._ Do you know the gentleman?

_Brazen._ No, but I will presently--Your name, my dear?

_Syl._ Wilful, Jack Wilful, at your service.

_Brazen._ What, the Kentish Wilfuls, or those of Staffordshire?

_Syl._ Both, sir, both; I'm related to all the Wilfuls in Europe, and
I'm head of the family at present.

_Plume._ Do you live in the country, sir?

_Syl._ Yes, sir, I live where I stand; I have neither home, house, or
habitation, beyond this spot of ground.

_Brazen._ What are you, sir?

_Syl._ A rake.

_Plume._ In the army, I presume.

_Syl._ No, but I intend to list immediately. Lookye, gentlemen, he that
bids the fairest, has me.

_Brazen._ Sir, I'll prefer you; I'll make you a corporal this minute.

_Plume._ Corporal! I'll make you my companion; you shall eat with me.

_Brazen._ You shall drink with me. Then you shall receive your pay, and
do no duty.

_Syl._ Then you must make me a field-officer.

_Plume._ Pho, pho, pho! I'll do more than all this; I'll make you a
corporal, and give you a brevet for serjeant.

_Brazen._ Can you read and write, sir?

_Syl._ Yes.

_Brazen._ Then your business is done--I'll make you chaplain to the
regiment.

_Syl._ Your promises are so equal, that I'm at a loss to chuse. There is
one Plume, that I hear much commended, in town; pray, which of you is
Captain Plume?

_Plume._ I am Captain Plume.

_Brazen._ No, no, I am Captain Plume.

_Syl._ Heyday!

_Plume._ Captain Plume! I'm your servant, my dear!

_Brazen._ Captain Brazen! I'm yours--The fellow dares not fight.
[_Aside._


     _Enter_ KITE.

_Kite._ Sir, if you please---- [_Goes to whisper_ PLUME.

_Plume._ No, no, there's your captain. Captain Plume, your serjeant has
got so drunk, he mistakes me for you.

_Brazen._ He's an incorrigible sot. Here, my Hector of Holborn, here's
forty shillings for you.

_Plume._ I forbid the bans. Lookye, friend, you shall list with Captain
Brazen.

_Syl._ I will see Captain Brazen hanged first; I will list will Captain
Plume: I am a free-born Englishman, and will be a slave my own way.
Lookye, sir, will you stand by me? [_To_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ I warrant you, my lad.

_Syl._ Then I will tell you, Captain Brazen, [_To Plume_.] that you are
an ignorant, pretending, impudent coxcomb.

_Brazen._ Ay, ay, a sad dog.

_Syl._ A very sad dog. Give me the money, noble Captain Plume.

_Plume._ Then you won't list with Captain Brazen?

_Syl._ I won't.

_Brazen._ Never mind him, child; I'll end the dispute presently. Harkye,
my dear!

     [_Takes_ PLUME _to one Side of the Stage, and entertains him
     in dumb Show_.

_Kite._ Sir, he in the plain coat is Captain Plume; I am his serjeant,
and will take my oath on't.

_Syl._ What! you are serjeant Kite?

_Kite._ At your service.

_Syl._ Then I would not take your oath for a farthing.

_Kite._ A very understanding youth of his age: but I see a storm coming.

_Syl._ Now, serjeant, I shall see who is your captain, by your knocking
down the other.

_Kite._ My captain scorns assistance, sir.

_Brazen._ How dare you contend for any thing, and not dare to draw your
sword? But you are a young fellow, and have not been much abroad; I
excuse that; but pr'ythee, resign the man, pr'ythee do: you are a very
honest fellow.

_Plume._ You lie; and you are a son of a whore.

     [_Draws, and makes up to_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ Hold, hold; did not you refuse to fight for the lady?
[_Retiring._

_Plume._ I always do, but for a man I'll fight knee-deep; so you lie
again.

     [PLUME _and_ BRAZEN _fight a traverse or two about the
     Stage_, SYLVIA _draws, and is held by_ KITE, _who sounds to
     Arms with his Mouth, takes_ SYLVIA _in his Arms, and carries
     her off the Stage_.

_Brazen._ Hold! where's the man?

_Plume._ Gone.

_Brazen._ Then what do we fight for? [_Puts up._] Now let's embrace, my
dear!

_Plume._ With all my heart, my dear! [_Putting up._] I suppose Kite has
listed him by this time. [_Embraces._

_Brazen._ You are a brave fellow: I always fight with a man before I
make him my friend; and if once I find he will fight, I never quarrel
with him afterwards. And now I'll tell you a secret, my dear friend!
that lady we frightened out of the walk just now, I found in bed this
morning, so beautiful, so inviting; I presently locked the door--but I'm
a man of honour--but I believe I shall marry her nevertheless--her
twenty thousand pounds, you know, will be a pretty conveniency. I had an
assignation with her here, but your coming spoiled my sport. Curse you,
my dear, but don't do so again----

_Plume._ No, no, my dear! men are my business at present. [_Exeunt._




ACT THE FOURTH.


SCENE I.

_The Walk._

_Enter_ ROSE _and_ BULLOCK, _meeting_.


_Rose._ Where have you been, you great booby? you are always out of the
way in the time of preferment.

_Bul._ Preferment! who should prefer me?

_Rose._ I would prefer you! who should prefer a man, but a woman? Come,
throw away that great club, hold up your head, cock your hat, and look
big.

_Bul._ Ah, Rouse, Rouse! I fear somebody will look big sooner than folk
think of. Here has been Cartwheel, your sweetheart; what will become of
him?

_Rose._ Lookye, I'm a great woman, and will provide for my relations: I
told the captain how finely he played upon the tabor and pipe, so he sat
him down for drum-major.

_Bul._ Nay, sister, why did not you keep that place for me? you know I
have always loved to be a drumming, if it were but on a table, or on a
quart pot.


     _Enter_ SYLVIA.

_Syl._ Had I but a commission in my pocket, I fancy my breeches would
become me as well as any ranting fellow of them all; for I take a bold
step, a rakish toss, and an impudent air, to be the principal
ingredients in the composition of a captain. What's here? Rose, my
nurse's daughter! I'll go and practise. Come, child, kiss me at once.
[_Kisses her._] And her brother too! Well, honest Dungfork, do you know
the difference between a horse and a cart, and a cart-horse, eh?

_Bul._ I presume that your worship is a captain, by your clothes and
your courage.

_Syl._ Suppose I were, would you be contented to list, friend?

_Rose._ No, no; though your worship be a handsome man, there be others
as fine as you. My brother is engaged to Captain Plume.

_Syl._ Plume! do you know Captain Plume?

_Rose._ Yes, I do, and he knows me. He took the ribbands out of his
shirt sleeves, and put them into my shoes: see there--I can assure you
that I can do any thing with the captain.

_Bul._ That is, in a modest way, sir. Have a care what you say, Rouse;
don't shame your parentage.

_Rose._ Nay, for that matter, I am not so simple as to say that I can do
any thing with the captain but what I may do with any body else.

_Syl._ So!----And pray what do you expect from this captain, child?

_Rose._ I expect sir!--I expect--but he ordered me to tell nobody--but
suppose he should propose to marry me?

_Syl._ You should have a care, my dear! men will promise any thing
beforehand.

_Rose._ I know that; but he promised to marry me afterwards.

_Bul._ Wauns! Rouse, what have you said?

_Syl._ Afterwards! After what?

_Rose._ After I had sold my chickens--I hope there's no harm in that.


     _Enter_ PLUME.

_Plume._ What, Mr. Wilful so close with my market woman!

_Syl._ I'll try if he loves her. [_Aside._] Close, sir, ay, and closer
yet, sir. Come, my pretty maid, you and I will withdraw a little.

_Plume._ No, no, friend, I han't done with her yet.

_Syl._ Nor have I begun with her; so I have as good a right as you have.

_Plume._ Thou'rt a bloody impudent fellow!

_Syl._ Sir, I would qualify myself for the service.

_Plume._ Hast thou really a mind to the service?

_Syl._ Yes, sir, so let her go.

_Rose._ Pray, gentlemen, don't be so violent.

_Plume._ Come, leave it to the girl's own choice. Will you belong to me
or to that gentleman?

_Rose._ Let me consider; you're both very handsome.

_Plume._ Now the natural inconstancy of her sex begins to work.

_Rose._ Pray, sir, what will you give me?

_Bul._ Dunna be angry, sir, that my sister should be mercenary, for
she's but young.

_Syl._ Give thee, child! I'll set thee above scandal; you shall have a
coach with six before and six behind; an equipage to make vice
fashionable, and put virtue out of countenance.

_Plume._ Pho! that's easily done: I'll do more for thee, child, I'll buy
you a furbelow-scarf, and give you a ticket to see a play.

_Bul._ A play! wauns! Rouse, take the ticket, and let's see the show.

_Syl._ Lookye, captain, if you won't resign, I'll go list with Captain
Brazen this minute.

_Plume._ Will you list with me if I give up my title?

_Syl._ I will.

_Plume._ Take her; I'll change a woman for a man at any time.

_Rose._ I have heard before, indeed, that you captains used to sell your
men.

_Bul._ Pray, captain, do not send Rouse to the Western Indies.

_Plume._ Ha! ha! ha! West Indies! No, no, my honest lad, give me thy
hand; nor you nor she shall move a step farther than I do. This
gentleman is one of us, and will be kind to you, Mrs. Rose.

_Rose._ But will you be so kind to me, sir, as the captain would?

_Syl._ I can't be altogether so kind to you; my circumstances are not so
good as the captain's; but I'll take care of you, upon my word.

_Plume._ Ay, ay, we'll all take care of her; she shall live like a
princess, and her brother here shall be--What would you be?

_Bul._ Oh, sir, if you had not promised the place of drum-major!

_Plume._ Ay, that is promised; but what think you of barrack-master? you
are a person of understanding, and barrack-master you shall be--But
what's become of this same Cartwheel you told me of, my dear?

_Rose._ We'll go fetch him--Come, brother barrack-master--We shall find
you at home, noble captain?

     [_Exeunt_ ROSE _and_ BULLOCK.

_Plume._ Yes, yes; and now, sir, here are your forty shillings.

_Syl._ Captain Plume, I despise your listing money; if I do serve, 'tis
purely for love--of that wench, I mean--now let me beg you to lay aside
your recruiting airs, put on the man of honour, and tell me plainly what
usage I must expect when I am under your command?

_Plume._ Your usage will chiefly depend upon your behaviour; only this
you must expect, that if you commit a small fault I will excuse it; if a
great one I'll discharge you; for something tells me I shall not be able
to punish you.

_Syl._ And something tells me that if you do discharge me 'twill be the
greatest punishment you can inflict; for were we this moment to go upon
the greatest dangers in your profession, they would be less terrible to
me than to stay behind you--And now, your hand, this lists me--and now
you are my captain.

_Plume._ Your friend. 'Sdeath! there's something in this fellow that
charms me.

_Syl._ One favour I must beg--this affair will make some noise, and I
have some friends that would censure my conduct, if I threw myself into
the circumstance of a private centinel of my own head--I must therefore
take care to be impressed by the act of parliament; you shall leave that
to me.

_Plume._ What you please as to that--Will you lodge at my quarters in
the mean time?

_Syl._ No, no, captain; you forget Rose; she's to be my bedfellow, you
know.

_Plume._ I had forgot: pray be kind to her. [_Exeunt severally._


     _Enter_ MELINDA _and_ LUCY.

_Lucy._ You are thoughtful, madam, am not I worthy to know the cause?

_Mel._ Oh, Lucy! I can hold my secret no longer. You must know, that
hearing of a famous fortune-teller in town, I went disguised to satisfy
a curiosity which has cost me dear. The fellow is certainly the devil,
or one of his bosom-favourites: he has told me the most surprising
things of my past life.

_Lucy._ Things past, madam, can hardly be reckoned surprising, because
we know them already. Did he tell you any thing surprising that was to
come?

_Mel._ One thing very surprising; he said, I should die a maid!

_Lucy._ Die a maid! come into the world for nothing!--Dear madam! if you
should believe him, it might come to pass; for the bare thought on't
might kill one in four and twenty hours--And did you ask him any
questions about me?

_Mel._ You! why I passed for you.

_Lucy._ So 'tis I that am to die a maid--But the devil was a liar from
the beginning; he can't make me die a maid--I've put it out of his power
already. [_Aside._

_Mel._ I do but jest. I would have passed for you, and called myself
Lucy; but he presently told me my name, my quality, my fortune, and gave
me the whole history of my life. He told me of a lover I had in this
country, and described Worthy exactly, but in nothing so well as in his
present indifference--I fled to him for refuge here to-day; he never so
much as encouraged me in my fright, but coldly told me that he was sorry
for the accident, because it might give the town cause to censure my
conduct; excused his not waiting on me home, made me a careless bow, and
walked off--'Sdeath! I could have stabbed him or myself, 'twas the same
thing--Yonder he comes--I will so use him!

_Lucy._ Don't exasperate him; consider what the fortune-teller told you.
Men are scarce, and as times go it is not impossible for a woman to die
a maid.


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

_Mel._ No matter.

_Wor._ I find she's warned; I must strike while the iron is hot--You've
a great deal of courage, madam, to venture into the walks where you were
so lately frightened.

_Mel._ And you have a quantity of impudence, to appear before me, that
you so lately have affronted.

_Wor._ I had no design to affront you, nor appear before you either,
madam; I left you here because I had business in another place, and came
hither thinking to meet another person.

_Mel._ Since you find yourself disappointed, I hope you'll withdraw to
another part of the walk.

_Wor._ The walk is broad enough for us both.

     [_They walk by one another, he with his Hat cocked, she
     fretting, and tearing her Fan; he offers her his Box, she
     strikes it out of his Hand; while he is gathering it up_,
     BRAZEN _enters, and takes her round the Waist; she cuffs
     him_.]

_Brazen._ What, here before me, my dear!

_Mel._ What means this insolence?

_Lucy._ Are you mad? don't you see Mr. Worthy? [_To_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ No, no; I'm struck blind--Worthy! odso! well turned--My
mistress has wit at her fingers' ends--Madam, I ask your pardon; 'tis
our way abroad--Mr. Worthy, you're the happy man.

_Wor._ I don't envy your happiness very much, if the lady can afford no
other sort of favours but what she has bestowed upon you.

_Mel._ I'm sorry the favour miscarried, for it was designed for you, Mr.
Worthy; and be assured 'tis the last and only favour you must expect at
my hands----captain, I ask your pardon. [_Exit with_ LUCY.

_Brazen._ I grant it----You see, Mr. Worthy, 'twas only a random-shot;
it might have taken off your head as well as mine. Courage, my dear!
'tis the fortune of war; but the enemy has thought fit to withdraw, I
think.

_Wor._ Withdraw! Oons! sir, what d'ye mean by withdraw?

_Brazen._ I'll show you. [_Exit._

_Wor._ She's lost, irrecoverably lost, and Plume's advice has ruined me.
'Sdeath! why should I, that knew her haughty spirit, be ruled by a man
that's a stranger to her pride?


     _Enter_ PLUME.

_Plume._ Ha! ha! ha! a battle royal! Don't frown so, man; she's your
own, I'll tell you: I saw the fury of her love in the extremity of her
passion. The wildness of her anger is a certain sign that she loves you
to madness. That rogue, Kite, began the battle with abundance of
conduct, and will bring you off victorious, my life on't: he plays his
part admirably.

_Wor._ But what could be the meaning of Brazen's familiarity with her?

_Plume._ You are no logician, if you pretend to draw consequences from
the actions of fools--Whim, unaccountable whim, hurries them on, like a
man drunk with brandy before ten o'clock in the morning----But we lose
our sport; Kite has opened above an hour ago: let's away. [_Exeunt._


SCENE II.

_A Chamber, a Table with Books and Globes._

KITE _disguised in a strange Habit, sitting at a Table_.

_Kite._ [_Rising._] By the position of the heavens, gained from my
observation upon these celestial globes, I find that Luna was a
tide-waiter, Sol a surveyor, Mercury a thief, Venus a whore, Saturn an
alderman, Jupiter a rake, and Mars a serjeant of grenadiers--and this is
the system of Kite the conjurer.


     _Enter_ PLUME _and_ WORTHY.

_Plume._ Well, what success?

_Kite._ I have sent away a shoemaker and a tailor already; one's to be a
captain of marines, and the other a major of dragoons--I am to manage
them at night----Have you seen the lady, Mr. Worthy?

_Wor._ Ay, but it won't do--Have you showed her her name, that I tore
off from the bottom of the letter?

_Kite._ No, sir, I reserve that for the last stroke.

_Plume._ What letter?

_Wor._ One that I would not let you see, for fear that you should break
windows in good earnest. Here captain, put it into your pocket-book, and
have it ready upon occasion. [_Knocking at the Door._

_Kite._ Officers, to your posts. Tycho, mind the door.

     [_Exeunt_ PLUME _and_ WORTHY.--SERVANT _opens the Door_.


     _Enter_ MELINDA _and_ LUCY.

_Kite._ Tycho, chairs for the ladies.

_Mel._ Don't trouble yourself; we shan't stay, doctor.

_Kite._ Your ladyship is to stay much longer than you imagine.

_Mel._ For what?

_Kite._ For a husband--For your part, madam, you won't stay for a
husband. [_To_ LUCY.

_Lucy._ Pray, doctor, do you converse with the stars, or the devil?

_Kite._ With both; when I have the destinies of men in search, I consult
the stars; when the affairs of women come under my hands, I advise with
my t'other friend.

_Mel._ And have you raised the devil upon my account?

_Kite._ Yes, madam, and he's now under the table.

_Lucy._ Oh, Heavens protect us! Dear madam, let's be gone.

_Kite._ If you be afraid of him, why do ye come to consult him!

_Mel._ Don't fear, fool: do you think, sir, that because I'm a woman I'm
to be fooled out of my reason, or frighted out of my senses? Come, show
me this devil.

_Kite._ He's a little busy at present, but when he has done he shall
wait on you.

_Mel._ What is he doing?

_Kite._ Writing your name in his pocket-book.

_Mel._ Ha! ha! my name! pray what have you or he to do with my name?

_Kite._ Lookye, fair lady! the devil is a very modest person, he seeks
nobody unless they seek him first; he's chained up, like a mastiff, and
can't stir unless he be let loose--You come to me to have your fortune
told--do you think, madam, that I can answer you of my own head? No,
madam; the affairs of women are so irregular, that nothing less than the
devil can give any account of them. Now to convince you of your
incredulity, I'll show you a trial of my skill. Here, you Cacodemo del
Plumo, exert your power, draw me this lady's name, the word Melinda, in
proper letters and characters of her own hand-writing--do it at three
motions--one--two--three--'tis done--Now, madam, will you please to send
your maid to fetch it?

_Lucy._ I fetch it! the devil fetch me if I do.

_Mel._ My name, in my own hand-writing! that would be convincing indeed!

_Kite._ Seeing is believing. [_Goes to the Table, and lifts up the
Carpet._] Here Tre, Tre, poor Tre, give me the bone, sirrah. There's
your name upon that square piece of paper. Behold--

_Mel._ 'Tis wonderful! my very letters to a tittle!

_Lucy._ 'Tis like your hand, madam; but not so like your hand, neither;
and now I look nearer 'tis not like your hand at all.

_Kite._ Here's a chambermaid now will outlie the devil!

_Lucy._ Lookye, madam, they shan't impose upon us; people can't remember
their hands no more than they can their faces--Come, madam, let us be
certain; write your name upon this paper, then we'll compare the two
hands. [_Takes out a Paper, and folds it._

_Kite._ Any thing for your satisfaction, madam--Here is pen and ink.

     [MELINDA _writes_, LUCY _holds the Paper_.

_Lucy._ Let me see it, madam; 'tis the same--the very same--But I'll
secure one copy for my own affairs. [_Aside._

_Mel._ This is demonstration.

_Kite._ 'Tis so, madam--the word demonstration comes from Dæmon, the
father of lies.

_Mel._ Well, doctor, I'm convinced: and now, pray, what account can you
give of my future fortune?

_Kite._ Before the sun has made one course round this earthly globe,
your fortune will be fixed for happiness or misery.

_Mel._ What! so near the crisis of my fate?

_Kite._ Let me see--About the hour of ten to-morrow morning you will be
saluted by a gentleman who will come to take his leave of you, being
designed for travel; his intention of going abroad is sudden, and the
occasion a woman. Your fortune and his are like the bullet and the
barrel, one runs plump into the other--In short, if the gentleman
travels, he will die abroad, and if he does you will die before he comes
home.

_Mel._ What sort of a man is he?

_Kite._ Madam, he's a fine gentleman, and a lover; that is, a man of
very good sense, and a very great fool.

_Mel._ How is that possible, doctor?

_Kite._ Because, madam--because it is so--A woman's reason is the best
for a man's being a fool.

_Mel._ Ten o'clock, you say?

_Kite._ Ten--about the hour of tea-drinking throughout the kingdom.

_Mel._ Here, doctor. [_Gives Money._] Lucy, have you any questions to
ask?

_Lucy._ Oh, madam! a thousand.

_Kite._ I must beg your patience till another time, for I expect more
company this minute; besides, I must discharge the gentleman under the
table.

_Lucy._ O, pray, sir, discharge us first!

_Kite._ Tycho, wait on the ladies down stairs.

                                           [_Exeunt_ MELINDA _and_ LUCY.


     _Enter_ WORTHY _and_ PLUME.

_Kite._ Mr. Worthy, you were pleased to wish me joy to-day; I hope to be
able to return the compliment to-morrow.

_Wor._ I'll make it the best compliment to you that ever I made in my
life, if you do; but I must be a traveller, you say?

_Kite._ No farther than the chops of the channel, I presume, sir.

_Plume._ That we have concerted already. [_Knocking hard._] Heyday! you
don't profess midwifery, doctor?

_Kite._ Away to your ambuscade. [_Exeunt_ WORTHY _and_ PLUME.


     _Enter_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ Your servant, my dear?

_Kite._ Stand off, I have my familiar already.

_Brazen._ Are you bewitched, my dear?

_Kite._ Yes, my dear! but mine is a peaceable spirit, and hates
gunpowder. Thus I fortify myself: [_Draws a Circle round him._] and now,
captain, have a care how you force my lines.

_Brazen._ Lines! what dost talk of lines! you have something like a
fishing-rod there, indeed; but I come to be acquainted with you,
man--What's your name, my dear?

_Kite._ Conundrum.

_Brazen._ Conundrum? rat me! I knew a famous doctor in London of your
name--Where were you born?

_Kite._ I was born in Algebra.

_Brazen._ Algebra! 'tis no country in Christendom, I'm sure, unless it
be some place in the Highlands in Scotland.

_Kite._ Right--I told you I was bewitched.

_Brazen._ So am I, my dear! I am going to be married--I have had two
letters from a lady of fortune, that loves me to madness, fits, cholic,
spleen, and vapours----shall I marry her in four and twenty hours, ay or
no?

_Kite._ Certainly.

_Brazen._ Gadso, ay----

_Kite._--Or no--but I must have the year and the day of the month when
these letters were dated.

_Brazen._ Why, you old bitch! did you ever hear of love letters dated
with the year and day of the month? do you think billetdoux are like
bank bills?

_Kite._ They are not so good, my dear--but if they bear no date, I must
examine the contents.

_Brazen._ Contents! that you shall, old boy! here they be both.

_Kite._ Only the last you received, if you please. [_Takes the Letter._]
Now, sir, if you please to let me consult my books for a minute, I'll
send this letter enclosed to you with the determination of the stars
upon it to your lodgings.

_Brazen._ With all my heart--I must give him--[_Puts his Hands in his
Pockets._] Algebra! I fancy, doctor, 'tis hard to calculate the place of
your nativity--Here--[_Gives him Money._] And, if I succeed, I'll build
a watch-tower on the top of the highest mountain in Wales, for the study
of astrology, and the benefit of the Conundrums. [_Exit._


     _Enter_ PLUME _and_ WORTHY.

_Wor._ O doctor! that letter's worth a million; let me see it: and now
I have it, I'm afraid to open it.

_Plume._ Pho! let me see it. [_Opening the Letter._] If she be a
jilt--Damn her, she is one--there's her name at the bottom on't.

_Wor._ How! then I'll travel in good earnest--By all my hopes, 'tis
Lucy's hand.

_Plume._ Lucy's!

_Wor._ Certainly--'tis no more like Melinda's character, than black is
to white.

_Plume._ Then 'tis certainly Lucy's contrivance to draw in Brazen for a
husband--But are you sure 'tis not Melinda's hand?

_Wor._ You shall see; where's the bit of paper I gave you just now that
the devil wrote Melinda upon?

_Kite._ Here, sir.

_Plume._ 'Tis plain they are not the same; and is this the malicious
name that was subscribed to the letter which made Mr. Balance send his
daughter into the country?

_Wor._ The very same: the other fragments I showed you just now.

_Plume._ But 'twas barbarous to conceal this so long, and to continue me
so many hours in the pernicious heresy of believing that angelic
creature could change. Poor Sylvia!

_Wor._ Rich Sylvia, you mean, and poor captain; ha! ha! ha!--Come, come,
friend, Melinda is true, and shall be mine; Sylvia is constant, and may
be yours.

_Plume._ No, she's above my hopes----but for her sake, I'll recant my
opinion of her sex.

  By some the sex is blam'd without design,
  Light harmless censure, such as yours and mine,
  Sallies of wit, and vapours of our wine:
  Others the justice of the sex condemn,
  And, wanting merit to create esteem,
  Would hide their own defects by censuring them:
  But they, secure in their all-conq'ring charms,
  Laugh at our vain attempts, our false alarms.
  He magnifies their conquests who complains,
  For none would struggle, were they not in chains.

[_Exeunt._




ACT THE FIFTH.


SCENE I.

JUSTICE BALANCE'S _House_.

_Enter_ BALANCE _and_ SCALE.


_Scale._ I say, 'tis not to be borne, Mr. Balance.

_Bal._ Lookye, Mr. Scale, for my own part I shall be very tender in what
regards the officers of the army--I only speak in reference to Captain
Plume--for the other spark I know nothing of.

_Scale._ Nor can I hear of any body that does--Oh! here they come.


     _Enter_ SYLVIA, BULLOCK, ROSE, PRISONERS, _and_ CONSTABLE.

_Const._ May it please your worships, we took them in the very act, _re
infecta_, sir--The gentleman, indeed, behaved himself like a gentleman,
for he drew his sword and swore, and afterwards laid it down and said
nothing.

_Bal._ Give the gentleman his sword again--Wait you without. [_Exeunt_
CONSTABLE _and_ WATCH.] I'm sorry, sir, [_To_ SYLVIA.] to know a
gentleman upon such terms, that the occasion of our meeting should
prevent the satisfaction of an acquaintance.

_Syl._ Sir, you need make no apology for your warrant, no more than I
shall do for my behaviour--my innocence is upon an equal foot with your
authority.

_Scale._ Innocence! have you not seduced that young maid?

_Syl._ No, Mr. Goosecap, she seduced me.

_Bul._ So she did, I'll swear--for she proposed marriage first.

_Bal._ What, then you are married, child? [_To_ ROSE.

_Rose._ Yes, sir, to my sorrow.

_Bal._ Who was witness?

_Bul._ That was I--I danc'd, threw the stocking, and spoke jokes by
their bedside, I'm sure.

_Bal._ Who was the minister?

_Bul._ Minister! we are soldiers, and want no minister--they were
married by the articles of war.

_Bal._ Hold thy prating, fool----Your appearance, sir, promises some
understanding; pray, what does this fellow mean?

_Syl._ He means marriage, I think--but that, you know, is so odd a
thing, that hardly any two people under the sun agree in the ceremony;
but among soldiers 'tis most sacred--our sword, you know, is our honour,
that we lay down--the Hero jumps over it first, and the Amazon
after--Leap, rogue; follow, whore--the drum beats a ruff, and so to bed:
that's all: the ceremony is concise.

_Bul._ And the prettiest ceremony, so full of pastime and
prodigality----

_Bal._ What! are you a soldier?

_Bul._ Ay, that I am--Will your worship lend me your cane, and I'll show
you how I can exercise?

_Bal._ Take it. [_Strikes him over the Head._]--Your name, pray, sir?
[_To_ SYLVIA.

_Syl._ Captain Pinch: I cock my hat with a pinch, I take snuff with a
pinch, pay my whores with a pinch; in short, I can do any thing at a
pinch but fight.

_Bal._ And pray, sir, what brought you into Shropshire?

_Syl._ A pinch, sir: I know you country gentlemen want wit, and you know
that we town gentlemen want money, and so----

_Bal._ I understand you, sir--Here, constable----


     _Enter_ CONSTABLE.

Take this gentleman into custody, till further orders.

_Rose._ Pray, your worship, don't be uncivil to him, for he did me no
hurt; he's the most harmless man in the world, for all he talks so.

_Scale._ Come, come, child, I'll take care of you.

_Syl._ What, gentlemen, rob me of my freedom and my wife at once! 'tis
the first time they ever went together.

_Bal._ Harkye, constable. [_Whispers him._

_Const._ It shall be done, sir--come along, sir.

     [_Exeunt_ CONSTABLE, BULLOCK, _and_ SYLVIA.

_Bal._ Come, Mr. Scale, we'll manage the spark presently. [_Exeunt._


SCENE II.

_The Market Place._

_Enter_ PLUME _and_ KITE.


_Plume._ A baker, a tailor, a smith, butchers, carpenters, and
journeymen shoemakers, in all thirty-nine--I believe the first colony
planted in Virginia had not more trades in their company than I have in
mine.

_Kite._ The butcher, sir, will have his hands full, for we have two
sheep-stealers among us--I hear of a fellow, too, committed just now for
stealing of horses.

_Plume._ We'll dispose of him among the dragoons--Have we never a
poulterer among us?

_Kite._ Yes, sir, the king of the gipsies is a very good one; he has an
excellent hand at a goose or a turkey--Here's Captain Brazen, sir. I
must go look after the men.


     _Enter_ BRAZEN, _reading a Letter_.

_Brazen._ Um, um, um, the canonical hour----Um, um, very well--My dear
Plume! give me a buss.

_Plume._ Half a score, if you will, my dear! What hast got in thy hand,
child?

_Brazen._ 'Tis a project for laying out a thousand pounds.

_Plume._ Were it not requisite to project first how to get it in?

_Brazen._ You can't imagine, my dear, that I want twenty thousand
pounds! I have spent twenty times as much in the service--But if this
twenty thousand pounds should not be in specie----

_Plume._ What twenty thousand?

_Brazen._ Harkye---- [_Whispers._

_Plume._ Married!

_Brazen._ Presently; we're to meet about half a mile out of town, at the
waterside--and so forth--[_Reads._] _For fear I should be known by any
of Worthy's friends, you must give me leave to wear my mask till after
the ceremony which will make me for ever yours._--Lookye there, my dear
dog!

     [_Shows the Bottom of the Letter to_ PLUME.

_Plume._ Melinda! and by this light her own hand! Once more, if you
please, my dear--Her hand exactly--Just now, you say?

_Brazen._ This minute; I must be gone.

_Plume._ Have a little patience, and I'll go with you.

_Brazen._ No, no, I see a gentleman coming this way that may be
inquisitive; 'tis Worthy, do you know him?

_Plume._ By sight only.

_Brazen._ Have a care, the very eyes discover secrets. [_Exit._


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

_Wor._ To boot and saddle, captain, you must mount.

_Plume._ Whip and spur, Worthy, or you won't mount.

_Wor._ But I shall; Melinda and I are agreed; she's gone to visit
Sylvia, we are to mount and follow; and could we carry a parson with us,
who knows what might be done for us both?

_Plume._ Don't trouble your head; Melinda has secured a parson already.

_Wor._ Already! do you know more than I?

_Plume._ Yes, I saw it under her hand--Brazen and she are to meet half
a mile hence, at the waterside, there to take boat, I suppose, to be
ferried over to the Elysian Fields, if there be any such thing in
matrimony.

_Wor._ I parted with Melinda just now; she assured me she hated Brazen,
and that she resolved to discard Lucy for daring to write letters to him
in her name.

_Plume._ Nay, nay, there's nothing of Lucy in this--I tell ye, I saw
Melinda's hand as surely as this is mine.

_Wor._ But I tell you, she's gone this minute to Justice Balance's
country-house.

_Plume._ But I tell you, she's gone this minute to the waterside.


     _Enter a_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Madam Melinda has sent word that you need not trouble yourself
to follow her, because her journey to Justice Balance's is put off, and
she's gone to take the air another way. [_To_ WORTHY.

_Wor._ How! her journey put off?

_Plume._ That is, her journey was a put off to you.

_Wor._ 'Tis plain, plain--But how, where, when is she to meet Brazen?

_Plume._ Just now, I tell you, half a mile hence, at the waterside.

_Wor._ Up or down the water?

_Plume._ That I don't know.

_Wor._ I'm glad my horses are ready--I shall return presently. [_Exit._

_Plume._ You'll find me at the Hall: the justices are sitting by this
time, and I must attend them. [_Exit._


SCENE III.

_A Court of Justice._

BALANCE, SCALE, _and_ SCRUPLE, _upon the Bench_;
CONSTABLE, KITE, MOB.


KITE _and_ CONSTABLE _advance_.

_Kite._ Pray, who are those honourable gentlemen upon the bench?

_Const._ He in the middle is Justice Balance, he on the right is Justice
Scale, and he on the left is Justice Scruple, and I am Mr. Constable;
four very honest gentlemen.

_Kite._ O dear, sir! I am your most obedient servant. [_Saluting the_
CONSTABLE.] I fancy, sir, that your employment and mine are much the
same; for my business is to keep people in order, and, if they disobey,
to knock them down; and then we are both staff officers.

_Const._ Nay, I'm a serjeant myself--of the militia--Come, brother, you
shall see me exercise. Suppose this a musket; now I'm shouldered.

     [_Puts his Staff on his right Shoulder._

_Kite._ Ay, you are shouldered pretty well for a constable's staff, but
for a musket you must put it on the other shoulder, my dear!

_Const._ Adso! that's true--Come, now give the word of command.

_Kite._ Silence.

_Const._ Ay, ay, so we will--we will be silent.

_Kite._ Silence, you dog, silence!

     [_Strikes him over the Head with his Halbert._

_Const._ That's the way to silence a man with a witness. What do you
mean, friend?

_Kite._ Only to exercise you, sir.

_Const._ Your exercise differs so much from ours, that we shall ne'er
agree about it; if my own captain had given me such a rap, I had taken
the law of him.


     _Enter_ PLUME.

_Bal._ Captain, you're welcome.

_Plume._ Gentlemen, I thank you.

_Scrup._ Come, honest captain, sit by me. [PLUME _ascends, and sits upon
the Bench_.]--Now, produce your prisoners----Here, that fellow there,
set him up. Mr. Constable, what have you to say against this man?

_Const._ I have nothing to say against him, an' please you.

_Bal._ No; what made you bring him hither?

_Const._ I don't know, an' please your worship.

_Scale._ Did not the contents of your warrant direct you what sort of
men to take up?

_Const._ I can't tell, an' please ye; I can't read.

_Scrup._ A very pretty constable, truly. I find we have no business
here.

_Kite._ May it please the worshipful bench, I desire to be heard in this
case, as being the counsel for the king.

_Bal._ Come, serjeant, you shall be heard, since nobody else will speak;
we won't come here for nothing.

_Kite._ This man is but one man, the country may spare him, and the army
wants him; besides, he's cut out by nature for a grenadier; he's five
feet ten inches high; he shall box, wrestle, or dance the Cheshire
round with any man in the country; he gets drunk every Sabbath-day, and
he beats his wife.

_Wife._ You lie, sirrah, you lie; an please your worship, he's the best
natured pains-taking'st man in the parish, witness my five poor
children.

_Scrup._ A wife and five children? you constable, you rogue, how durst
you impress a man that has a wife and five children?

_Scale._ Discharge him, discharge him.

_Bal._ Hold, gentlemen. Harkye, friend, how do you maintain your wife
and five children?

_Plume._ They live upon wild-fowl and venison, sir; the husband keeps a
gun, and kills all the hares and partridges within five miles round.

_Bal._ A gun! nay if he be so good at gunning, he shall have enough
on't. He may be of use against the French, for he shoots flying to be
sure.

_Scrup._ But his wife and children, Mr. Balance?

_Wife._ Ay, ay, that's the reason you would send him away; you know I
have a child every year, and you are afraid that they should come upon
the parish at last.

_Plume._ Lookye there, gentlemen; the honest woman has spoke it at once;
the parish had better maintain five children this year, than six or
seven the next. That fellow, upon this high feeding, may get you two or
three beggars at a birth.

_Wife._ Lookye, Mr. Captain, the parish shall get nothing by sending him
away, for I won't lose my teeming-time, if there be a man left in the
parish.

_Bal._ Send that woman to the house of correction,----and the man----

_Kite._ I'll take care of him, if you please. [_Takes him down._

_Scale._ Here, you constable, the next. Set up that black-faced fellow,
he has a gunpowder look; what can you say against this man, constable?

_Const._ Nothing, but that he's a very honest man.

_Plume._ Pray, gentlemen, let me have one honest man in my company, for
the novelty's sake.

_Bal._ What are you, friend?

_Mob._ A collier; I work in the coal-pits.

_Scrup._ Lookye, gentlemen, this fellow has a trade, and the act of
parliament here expresses, that we are to impress no man that has any
visible means of a livelihood.

_Kite._ May it please your worship, this man has no visible means of a
livelihood, for he works underground.

_Plume._ Well said, Kite; besides, the army wants miners.

_Bal._ Right, and had we an order of government for't, we could raise
you in this and the neighbouring county of Stafford, five hundred
colliers, that would run you under ground like moles, and do more
service in a siege, than all the miners in the army.

_Scrup._ Well, friend, what have you to say for yourself?

_Mob._ I'm married.

_Kite._ Lack-a-day! so am I.

_Mob._ Here's my wife, poor woman.

_Bal._ Are you married, good woman?

_Woman._ I'm married in conscience.

_Kite._ May it please your worship, she's with child in conscience.

_Scale._ Who married you, mistress?

_Woman._ My husband: we agreed that I should call him husband, to avoid
passing for a whore, and that he should call me wife, to shun going for
a soldier.

_Plume._ A very pretty couple! What say you, Mr. Kite? will you take
care of the woman?

_Kite._ Yes, sir, she shall go with us to the sea-side, and there, if
she has a mind to drown herself, we'll take care nobody shall hinder
her.

_Bal._ Here, constable, bring in my man.[_Exit_ CONSTABLE.] Now,
captain, I'll fit you with a man such as you never listed in your life.


     _Enter_ CONSTABLE _and_ SYLVIA.

Oh, my friend Pinch! I'm very glad to see you.

_Syl._ Well, sir, and what then?

_Scale._ What then! is that your respect to the bench?

_Syl._ Sir, I don't care a farthing for you, nor your bench neither.

_Scrup._ Lookye, gentlemen, that's enough; he's a very impudent fellow,
and fit for a soldier.

_Scale._ A notorious rogue, I say, and very fit for a soldier.

_Const._ A whoremaster, I say, and therefore fit to go.

_Bal._ What think you, captain?

_Plume._ I think he's a very pretty fellow, and therefore fit to serve.

_Syl._ Me for a soldier! send your own lazy lubberly sons at home;
fellows that hazard their necks every day, in the pursuit of a fox, yet
dare not peep abroad to look an enemy in the face.

_Const._ May it please your worships, I have a woman at the door to
swear a rape against this rogue.

_Syl._ Is it your wife, or daughter, booby?

_Bal._ Pray, captain, read the articles of war; we'll see him listed
immediately.

_Plume._ [Reads. _Articles of war, against mutiny and desertion, &c._

_Syl._ Hold, sir----Once more, gentlemen, have a care what you do; for
you shall severely smart for any violence you offer to me; and you, Mr.
Balance, I speak to you particularly, you shall heartily repent it.

_Plume._ Lookye, young spark, say but one word more, and I'll build a
horse for you as high as the cieling, and make you ride the most
tiresome journey that ever you made in your life.

_Syl._ You have made a fine speech, good Captain Huff-cap! but you had
better be quiet; I shall find a way to cool your courage.

_Plume._ Pray, gentlemen, don't mind him, he's distracted.

_Syl._ 'Tis false! I am descended of as good a family as any in your
county; my father is as good a man as any upon your bench, and I am heir
to twelve hundred pounds a-year.

_Bal._ He's certainly mad. Pray, captain, read the articles of war.

_Syl._ Hold, once more. Pray, Mr. Balance, to you I speak; suppose I
were your child, would you use me at this rate?

_Bal._ No, 'faith: were you mine, I would send you to Bedlam first, and
into the army afterwards.

_Syl._ But consider my father, sir; he's as good, as generous, as brave,
as just a man as ever served his country; I'm his only child; perhaps
the loss of me may break his heart.

_Bal._ He's a very great fool if it does. Captain, if you don't list him
this minute, I'll leave the court.

_Plume._ Kite, do you distribute the levy money to the men, while I
read.

_Kite._ Ay, sir. Silence, gentlemen!

     [PLUME _reads the Articles of War_.

_Bal._ Very well; now, captain, let me beg the favour of you not to
discharge this fellow, upon any account whatsoever. Bring in the rest.

_Const._ There are no more, an't please your worship.

_Bal._ No more! There were five, two hours ago.

_Syl._ 'Tis true, sir; but this rogue of a constable let the rest
escape, for a bribe of eleven shillings a man, because he said the act
allowed him but ten, so the odd shilling was clear gains.

_All Just._ How!

_Syl._ Gentlemen, he offered to let me go away for two guineas, but I
had not so much about me: this is truth, and I am ready to swear it.

_Kite._ And I'll swear it: give me the book--'tis for the good of the
service.

_Mob._ May it please your worship, I gave him half a crown, to say that
I was an honest man; but now, since that your worships have made me a
rogue, I hope I shall have my money again.

_Bal._ 'Tis my opinion, that this constable be put into the captain's
hands, and if his friends don't bring four good men for his ransom by
to-morrow night, captain, you shall carry him to Flanders.

_Scale. Scrup._ Agreed, agreed.

_Plume._ Mr. Kite, take the constable into custody.

_Kite._ Ay, ay, sir. [_To the_ CONSTABLE.] Will you please to have your
office taken from you? or will you handsomely lay down your staff, as
your betters have done before you?

     [CONSTABLE _drops his Staff_.

_Bal._ Come, gentlemen, there needs no great ceremony in adjourning this
court. Captain, you shall dine with me.

_Kite._ Come, Mr. Militia Serjeant, I shall silence you now, I believe,
without your taking the law of me. [_Exeunt._


SCENE IV.

_A Room in_ BALANCE'S _House_.

_Enter_ BALANCE _and_ STEWARD.


_Stew._ We did not miss her till the evening, sir; and then, searching
for her in the chamber that was my young master's, we found her clothes
there; but the suit that your son left in the press, when he went to
London, was gone.

_Bal._ The white, trimm'd with silver?

_Stew._ The same.

_Bal._ You ha'n't told that circumstance to any body?

_Stew._ To none but your worship.

_Bal._ And be sure you don't. Go into the dining-room, and tell Captain
Plume that I beg to speak with him.

_Stew._ I shall. [_Exit._

_Bal._ Was ever man so imposed upon! I had her promise, indeed, that she
would never dispose of herself without my consent--I have consented with
a witness, given her away as my act and my deed--and this, I warrant,
the captain thinks will pass. No, I shall never pardon him the villany,
first, of robbing me of my daughter, and then the mean opinion he must
have of me, to think that I could be so wretchedly imposed upon: her
extravagant passion might encourage her in the attempt, but the
contrivance must be his. I'll know the truth presently.


     _Enter_ PLUME.

Pray, captain, what have you done with our young gentleman soldier?

_Plume._ He's at my quarters, I suppose, with the rest of my men.

_Bal._ Does he keep company with the common soldiers?

_Plume._ No, he's generally with me.

_Bal._ He lies with you, I presume?

_Plume._ No, 'faith; the young rogue fell in love with Rose, and has
lain with her, I think, since she came to town.

_Bal._ So that between you both, Rose has been finely managed.

_Plume._ Upon my honour, sir, she had no harm from me.

_Bal._ All's safe, I find--Now, captain, you must know, that the young
fellow's impudence in court was well grounded; he said I should heartily
repent his being listed, and so I do, from my soul.

_Plume._ Ay! for what reason?

_Bal._ Because he is no less than what he said he was--born of as good a
family as any in this county, and he is heir to twelve hundred pounds
a-year.

_Plume._ I'm very glad to hear it--for I wanted but a man of that
quality to make my company a perfect representative of the whole commons
of England.

_Bal._ Won't you discharge him?

_Plume._ Not under a hundred pounds sterling.

_Bal._ You shall have it, for his father is my intimate friend.

_Plume._ Then you shall have him for nothing.

_Bal._ Nay, sir, you shall have your price.

_Plume._ Not a penny, sir; I value an obligation to you much above an
hundred pounds.

_Bal._ Perhaps, sir, you shan't repent your generosity----Will you
please to write his discharge in my pocket-book? [_Gives his Book._] In
the mean time, we'll send for the gentleman. Who waits there?


     _Enter_ STEWARD.

Go to the captain's lodging, and inquire for Mr. Wilful; tell him his
captain wants him here immediately.

_Serv._ Sir, the gentleman's below at the door, inquiring for the
captain.

_Plume._ Bid him come up. Here's the discharge, sir.

_Bal._ Sir, I thank you--'Tis plain he had no hand in't. [_Aside._


     _Enter_ SYLVIA.

_Syl._ I think, captain, you might have used me better, than to leave me
yonder among your swearing drunken crew; and you, Mr. Justice, might
have been so civil as to have invited me to dinner, for I have eaten
with as good a man as your worship.

_Plume._ Sir, you must charge our want of respect upon our ignorance of
your quality--but now you are at liberty, I have discharged you.

_Syl._ Discharged me!

_Bal._ Yes, sir, and you must once more go home to your father.

_Syl._ My father! then I am discovered----Oh, sir! [_Kneeling._] I
expect no pardon.

_Bal._ Pardon! no, no, child; your crime shall be your punishment: here,
captain, I deliver her over to the conjugal power, for her chastisement.
Since she will be a wife, be you a husband, a very husband--When she
tells you of her love, upbraid her with her folly; be modishly
ungrateful, because she has been unfashionably kind; and use her worse
than you would any body else, because you can't use her so well as she
deserves.

_Plume._ And are you, Sylvia, in good earnest?

_Syl._ Earnest! I have gone too far to make it jest, sir.

_Plume._ And do you give her to me in good earnest?

_Bal._ If you please to take her, sir.

_Plume._ Why then I have saved my legs and arms, and lost my liberty;
secure from wounds, I am prepared for the gout; farewell subsistence,
and welcome taxes--Sir, my liberty and the hope of being a general,
are much dearer to me than your twelve hundred pounds a-year--but
to your love, madam, I resign my freedom, and, to your beauty, my
ambition--greater in obeying at your feet, than commanding at the head
of an army.


     _Enter_ WORTHY.

_Wor._ I am sorry to hear, Mr. Balance, that your daughter is lost.

_Bal._ So am not I, sir, since an honest gentleman has found her.


     _Enter_ MELINDA.

_Mel._ Pray, Mr. Balance, what's become of my cousin Sylvia?

_Bal._ Your cousin Sylvia is talking yonder with your cousin Plume.

_Mel. and Wor._ How!

_Syl._ Do you think it strange, cousin, that a woman should change; but
I hope you'll excuse a change that has proceeded from constancy: I
altered my outside, because I was the same within, and only laid by the
woman, to make sure of my man: that's my history.

_Mel._ Your history is a little romantic, cousin; but since success has
crowned your adventures, you will have the world on your side, and I
shall be willing to go with the tide, provided you'll pardon an injury I
offered you in the letter to your father.

_Plume._ That injury, madam, was done to me, and the reparation I
expect, shall be made to my friend: make Mr. Worthy happy, and I shall
be satisfied.

_Mel._ A good example, sir, will go a great way--When my cousin is
pleased to surrender, 'tis probable I shan't hold out much longer.


     _Enter_ BRAZEN.

_Brazen._ Gentlemen, I am yours--Madam, I am not yours.

_Mel._ I'm glad on't, sir.

_Brazen._ So am I--You have got a pretty house here, Mr. Laconic.

_Bal._ 'Tis time to right all mistakes--My name, sir, is Balance.

_Brazen._ Balance! Sir, I am your most obedient--I know your whole
generation--had not you an uncle that was governor of the Leeward
Islands, some years ago?

_Bal._ Did you know him?

_Brazen._ Intimately, sir, he played at billiards to a miracle--You had
a brother too, that was a captain of a fire-ship--poor Dick--he had the
most engaging way with him of making punch--and then his cabin was so
neat--but his poor boy Jack was the most comical bastard--Ha! ha! ha!
ha! ha! a pickled dog, I shall never forget him.

_Plume._ Have you got your recruits, my dear?

_Brazen._ Not a stick, my dear!

_Plume._ Probably I shall furnish you, my dear! instead of the twenty
thousand pounds you talked of, you shall have the twenty brave recruits
that I have raised, at the rate they cost me----My commission I lay
down, to be taken up by some braver fellow, that has more merit, and
less good fortune--whilst I endeavour, by the example of this worthy
gentleman, to serve my king and country at home.

  _With some regret I quit the active field,_
  _Where glory full reward for life does yield;_
  _But the recruiting trade, with all its train_
  _Of endless plague, fatigue, and endless pain,_
  _I gladly quit, with my fair spouse to stay,_
  _And raise recruits the matrimonial way._
                                  [Exeunt omnes.




THE END.




TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE


A number of obvious misspellings have been corrected and missing
punctuation has been silently added. Contemporary spellings have
generally been retained (e.g. but for butt, cieling, ideot, quinted for
squinted). One character name appears in the text as both Tummus and
Tummas.


Two additional changes were made:

 In Act 3, scene 2, one instance of "are" was deleted in the sentence:
   You lie; and you are a son of a whore.

 In Act 4, scene 1, build has replaced built in the sentence:
   I'll build a watch-tower.