A Series of Plays in which it is attempted to delineate The Stronger Passions of the Mind, Volume One/The Tryal Act 2

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A Lodging-house. Enter Royston and Humphry, followed by Jonathan, carrying a portmanteau.

Roy. What a world of business I have got upon my hands! I must set about it immediately. Come here Jonathan; I shall send you out in the first place.

Jon. Well, sir.

Roy. Take the black trunk, that is left in the hall, upon your shoulder, Jonathan, and be sure you dont run against any body with it, for that might bring us into trouble. And perhaps as you go along, you may chance to meet with some of the Duke of Bigwell's servants, or with some body who can tell you where his Grace lodges in this town, and you may enquire of them, without saying I desired you: you understand me, Jonathan?

Jon. O yes, your honour!

Roy. But first of all, however, if you see any decent hair-dresser's shop in your way, desire them to send some body here for my wig; and like enough they may tell you, at the same time, where there is an honest Town cryer to be bad; I'll have Phebe's black whelp cry'd directly; and hark ye, Jonathan, you may say as though the dog were your own, you understand, they will expect such a devil of a reward else; and pri'thee man! step into the corn market, if thou can'st find out the way, and enquire the price of oats.

Jon. Yes, please your honour, but am I to go trudging about to all these places with that great heavy trunk upon my shoulder?

Roy. No! numskull! did I not bid you carry it to the Inn, where the London stage puts up? by the bye you had better take it to the waggon—but first ask the coachman, what he charges for the carriage: you can take it to the waggon afterwards. I will suffer no man to impose upon me; you will remember all this distinctly now, as I have told it you Jonathan?

Jon. (counting to himself upon his fingers) O yes, your honour! I'll manage it all I warrant!Exit.

Roy. What a world of business I have upon my hands, Humphry, I am as busy as a minister of state.

Re-enter Jonathan, scratching his head.

Jon. La your honour! I have forgot all about his Grace, and the black whelp.

Roy. Damn your muddle pate; did not I bid you enquire where his Grace lives, and if you happen to see—

Jon. Ods bodickins! I remember it every word now! and the whelp is to be call'd by the Town cryer, just as one would call any thing that is lost.

Roy. Yes yes, go about it speedily (Exit Jon.) Now in the first place, my good Humphry, I must see after the heiress I told you of, and it is a business, which requires a great deal of management too; for—

Re-enter Jonathan, scratching his head.

Damn that dunder-headed fool! here he is again.

Jon. Your honour wont be angry now, but hang me, if I can tell whether I am to take that there trunk, to the coach, or the waggon.

Roy. Take it to the coach—no, no, to the waggon—yes, yes, I should have said—pest take it! carry it where thou wilt, fool, and plague me no more about it. (Exit Jon.) one might as well give directions to a horse-block. Now, as I was saying, Humphry, this requires a great deal of management; for if the lady dont like me, she may happen to like my son: so I must feel my way a little, before I speak directly to the purpose.

Humph. Ay, your honour is always feeling your way.

Roy. And as for the Duke, I will ply him as close as I can with solicitations in the mean time, without altogether stating my request; for if I get the lady, George shall have the office, and if he gets the lady, I shall have the office. So we shall have two chances in our favour both ways, my good Humphry.

Humph. Belike, sir, if we were to take but one business in hand at a time, we might come better off at the long run.

Roy. O! thou hast no head for business, Humphry: thou hast no genius for business, my good Humphry. (smiling conceitedly.)

Humph. Why, for certain your honour has a marvellous deal of wit, but I dont know how it is, nothing that we take in hand ever comes to any good; and what provokes me, more than all the rest, is, that the more pains we take about it, the worse it always succeeds.

Roy. Humph! we can't guard against every cross accident.

Humph. To be sure sir, cross accidents will happen to every body, but certes! we have more than our own share of them.

Roy. Well, dont trouble yourself about it: I have head enough to manage my own affairs, and more than my own too. Why, my lord Slumber can't even grant a new lease, nor imprison a vagabond for poaching, without my advice and direction: did I not manage all Mr. Harebrain's election for him? and, but for one of those cursed accidents or two, had brought him in for his Borough, as neatly as my glove. Nay, if his Grace and I get into good understanding together, there is no knowing, but I may have affairs of the nation upon my hands; ha, ha, ha! poor Humphry, thou hast no comprehension of all this; thou think'st me a very wonderful man, dost thou not?

Humph. I must own I do sometimes marvel at your honour.

Enter Mr. Withrington.

Roy. Ha! how do you do, my dear cousin! I hope I have the happiness of seeing you in good health; I am heartily rejoiced to see you, my very good sir. (Shaking him heartily by the hand.)

With. I thank you, sir, you are welcome to Bath, I did not expect the pleasure of seeing you here.

Roy. Why, my dear worthy sir, I am a man of so much business, so toss'd about, so harass'd with a multiplicity of affairs, that I protest, I can't tell myself one day, what part of the world I shall be in the next.

With. You give yourself a great deal of trouble, Mr. Royston.

Roy. O! hang it! I never spare myself: I must work, to make others work, cousin Withrington; I have got a world of new alterations, going on at Royston-hall; if you would take a trip down to see them.

With. I am no great traveller, sir.

Roy. I have plough'd up the bowling-green, and cut down the elm-trees; I have built new stables, and fill'd up the horse pond; I have dug up the orchard, and pull'd down the old fruit wall, where that odd little temple used to stand.

With. And is the little temple pull'd down too? pray, what has become of your Vicar's sister, Mrs. Mary? we drunk tea with her there, I remember, is she married yet? she was a very modest looking gentlewoman.

Roy. So you remember her too; well I have pull'd down every foot of it, and built a new carthouse with the bricks.—Good commodious stalls for thirty horses, cousin Withrington, they beat Sir John Houndly's all to nothing; it is as clever, a well constructed building as any in the country.

With. Has Sir John built a new house in the country.

Roy. No, no, the stables I say.

With. O you are talking of the stables again.

Roy. But when I get the new addition to the mansion-house finish'd, that will be the grand improvement; the best carpenters' work in the country, my dear sir, all well season'd timber from Norway.

Humph. It is part of a disputed wreck, sir, and if the law suit about the right to it turns out in my master's favour, as it should do, it will be the cheapest built house in the county; O! let his honour alone for making a bargain.

With. So you have got a law suit on your hands, Mr. Royston? I hope you are not much addicted to this kind of amusement, you will find it a very expensive one.

Roy. Bless you, my good sir, I am the most peaceable creature in the world, but I will suffer no man to impose upon me.

With. (smiling.) But you suffer the women sometimes to do so, do you not?

Humph. No, nor the women neither, sir; for it was but t'other day that he prosecuted widow Gibson, for letting her chickens feed amongst his corn, and it was given in his honour's favour, as in right it should have been.

With. (archly.) And who was adjudged to pay the expences of court, Mr. Humphry?

Humph. Ay, to be sure, his honour was obliged to pay that.

With. (archly.) But the widow paid swingingly for it, I suppose.

Humph. Nay 'faith, after all, they but fined her in a sixpence; yet that always shew'd, you know, that she was in the wrong.

With. To be sure, Mr. Humphry, and the sixpence would indemnify your master for the costs of suit.

Humph. Nay, as a body may say, he might as well have let her alone, for any great matter he made of it that way; but it was very wrong in her, you know, sir, to let her hens go amongst his honour's corn, when she knew very well, she was too poor to make up the loss to his honour.

With. Say no more about it, my good Humphry, you have vindicated your master most ably, and I have no doubts at all in regard to the propriety of his conduct.

Humph, (very well pleased.) Ay, thank god, I do sometimes make shift in my poor way to edge in a word for his honour.

Roy. (not so well pleased.) Thou art strangely given to prating this morning. (to Humph.) By the bye, cousin Withrington, I must consult you about my application to his Grace.

Humph. (aside to Withrington, pulling him by the sleeve.) You forget to ask for the lady, sir.

With. (turning round.) What did you say of his Grace?

Roy. No, no, I should—I meant—did I not say the gracious young lady your niece; I hope she is well?

With. (smiling) She is very well; you shall go home with me, and visit her.

Roy. I am infinitely obliged to you, my worthy good sir, I shall attend you with the greatest pleasure; some ladies have no dislike to a good looking gentleman-like man, although he may be past the bloom of his youth, cousin? however young men do oftener carry the day, I believe, my son George is a good likely fellow, I expect him in Bath every hour, I shall have the honour of following you, my dear sir. Remember my orders Humphry.


Enter Harwood hastily, looking round as if he sought some one, and was disappointed.

Har. (alone.) He is gone, I have miss'd the good uncle of Agnes—what is the matter with me now, that the sound of an old man's voice should agitate me thus? did I not feel it was the sound of something which belong'd to her? in faith! I believe, if her kitten was to mew, I should hasten to hold some intercourse with it.—I can stay in this cursed house no longer, and when I do go out, there is but one way these legs of mine will carry me, the alley which leads to her dwelling—Well, well, I have been but six times there to-day already; I may have a chance of seeing her at last—I'll run after the old gentleman even now—what a delightful witch it is! [Exit hastily.


Withrington's house. Agnes and Mariane, discovered, Mariane reading a letter, and Agnes looking earnestly and gladly in her face.

Ag. My friend Edward is well, I see; pray what does the traveller say for himself?

Mar. (putting up the letter.) You shall read it all by and by, every thing that is pleasant and kind.

Ag. Heaven prosper you both! you are happier than I am with all my fortune, Mariane, you have a right true lover.

Mar. And so have you, Agnes, my Harwood will bear the trial: I have watch'd him closely, and I will venture my word upon him.

Ag. (taking her in her arms.) Now if thou art not deceiv'd, thou art the dearest sweet cousin on earth! (Pausing and looking seriously.) Ah no! it cannot be! I am but an ordinary looking girl, as my uncle says; (with vivacity;) I would it were so!

Enter Servant.

Ser. Sir Loftus Prettyman and Mr. Opal.

Mar. I am at home. (Exit Servant.) I can't entertain these fools till I have put up my letter: do you receive them, I will soon return. [Exit.

Enter Sir Loftus and Opal dress'd pretty much alike. Sir Loftus makes a haughty distant how to Agnes, and Opal makes another very like it.

Ag. Have the goodness to be seated, sir. (to Sir Loftus) Pray, sir, (to Opal, making a courteous motion as if she wish'd them to sit down.) Miss Withrington will be here immediately. (Sir Loftus makes a slight bow without speaking; Opal does the same, and both saunter about with their hats in their hands.)

Ag. I hope you had a pleasant walk after we left you, Sir Loftus?

Sir Loft. (Looking affectedly, as if he did not understand her.) I beg pardon—O! you were along with Miss Withrington. (Mumbling something which is not heard.)

Ag. to Op. You are fond of that walk, Mr. Opal, I think I have seen you there frequently.

Op. Ma'am you are very—(mumbling something which is not heard, in, the same manner with Sir Loftus, but still more absurd.) I do sometimes walk—(mumbling again.)

Ag. to Sir Loft. The country is delightful round Bath.

Sir Loft. Ma'am!

Ag. Dont you think so, Mr. Opal?

Op. 'Pon honour. I never attended to it. (A long pause, Sir Loftus and Opal strut about conceitedly. Enter Mariane, and both of them run up to her at once, with great alacrity and satisfaction.)

Sir Loft. I hope I see Miss Withrington entirely recovered from the fatigues of the morning?

Mar. Pretty well, after the fatigue of dressing too, which is a great deal worse, Sir Loftus. (carelessly.)

Op. For the ball, I presume?

Sir Loft. I am delighted—

Mar. (addressing herself to Agnes, without attending to him.) Do you know what a provoking mistake my milliner has made?

Ag. I dont know.

Sir Loft. I hope madam—

Mar. to Ag. She has made up my whole suit of trimmings with the colour of all others I dislike.

Op. This is very provoking, indeed I would—

Mar. (Still speaking to Ag. without attending to them) And she has sent home my petticoat all patch'd over with scraps of gold foil, like a may-day dress for a chimney-sweeper.

Sir Loft. (Thrusting in his face near Mariane, and endeavouring to be attended to.) A very good comparison, ha, ha!

Op. (Thrusting in his face at the other side of her.) Very good indeed, ha, ha, ha!

Mar. (Still speaking to Agnes, who winks at her without attending to them.) I'll say nothing about it but never employ her again.

Sir Loft, (going round to her other ear, and making another attempt.) I am delighted, Miss Withrington.

Mar. (carelessly.) Are you, Sir Loftus? (To Agnes.) I have broken my fan, pray put it by with your own, my dear Agnes! (Exit Agnes into the adjoining room, and Sir Loftus gives Opal a significant look, upon which he retires to the bottom of the stage, and, after sauntering a little there, Exit.)

Sir Loft. (Seeming a little piqued.) If you would have done me the honour to hear me, Ma'am, I should have said, I am delighted to see you dress'd, as I hope I may presume from it, you intend going to the ball to-night.

Mar. Indeed I am too capricious to know whether I do or not; do you think it will be pleasant?

Sir Loft. Very pleasant, if the devotions of a thousand admirers can make it so.

Mar. O! the devotions of a thousand admirers, are like the good will of every body, one steady friendship is worth it all.

Sir Loft. From which may I infer that one faithful adorer, in your eyes, outvalues all the thousand? (Affecting to be tender.) Ah! so would I have Miss Withrington to believe! and if that can be any inducement, she will find such a one there, most happy to attend her.

Mar. Will she? I wonder who this may be: what kind of man is he pray?

Sir Loft. (With a conceited simper, at the same time in a pompous manner) Perhaps it will not be boasting too much to say, he is a man of fashion, and of some little consequence in the world.

Mar. Handsome and accomplish'd too. Sir Loftus?

Sir Loft. I must not presume, ma'am, to boast of my accomplishments.

Mar. (Affecting a look of disappointment.) O! lud! so it is yourself after all! I have not so much penetration as I thought. (Yawning twice very wide.) Bless me! what makes me yawn so? I forgot to visit my old woman, who sells the cakes, this morning that must be it. (Yawning again.) Do you love gingerbread, Sir Loftus? (Sir Loftus bites his lip, and struts proudly away to the other side of the stage, whilst Agnes peeps from the closet, and makes signs of encouragement to Mariane.)

Mar. Well, after all, I believe, it will be pleasant enough to go to the ball, with such an accomplish'd attendant.

Sir Loft. (Taking encouragement, and smothering his pride.) Are you so obliging, Miss Withrington? will you permit me to have the happiness of attending you?

Mar. If you'll promise to make it very agreeable to me; you are fond of dancing, I suppose?

Sir Loft. I'll do any thing you desire me, but why throw away time so precious in the rough familiar exercise of dancing? is there not something more distinguished, more refined, in enjoying the conversation of those we love?

Mar. In the middle of a crowd, Sir Loftus?

Sir Loft. What is that crowd to us? We have nothing to do but to despise it, whilst they stare upon us with vulgar admiration, we shall talk together, smile together, attend only to each other, like beings of a superiour order.

Mar. O! that will be delightful! but dont you think we may just peep slyly over our shoulder now and then, to see whether they are admiring us? (Sir Loftus bites his lips again, and struts to the bottom of the stage, whilst Agnes peeps out again from the closet, and makes signs to Mariane.)

Mar. (Carelessly pulling a small case from her pocket.) Are not these handsome brilliants, Sir Loftus?

Sir Loft. (Very much struck with the sparkling of the diamonds, but pretending not to look at them.) Upon my word, ma'am, I am no judge of trinkets.

Mar. They are clumsily set, I shall give them to my cousin.

Sir Loft. (Forgetting himself.) Why, ma'am, do you seriously mean—They are of a most incomparable water.

Mar. (archly.) I thought you had not attended to them.

Sir Loft. (tenderly.) It is impossible in the presence of Miss Withrington, to think of any thing but the cruelty with which she imposes silence on a heart which adores her.

Mar. Nay, you entirely mistake me, Sir Loftus, I am ready to hear you with the greatest good nature imaginable.

Sir Loft. It is a theme, perhaps, on which my tongue would too long dwell.

Mar. O! not at all, I have leisure, and a great deal of patience at present, I beg you would by no means hurry yourself.

Sir Loft. (After a pause, looking foolish and embarrassed.) Few words, perhaps, will better suit the energy of passion.

Mar. Just as you please, Sir Loftus, if you chuse to say it in few words I am very well satisfied. (Another pause. Sir Loftus very much embarrassed.)

Enter Withrington and Harwood, and Sir Loftus seems very much relieved.

Sir Loft. (aside) Heaven be praised! they are come.

Mar. to With. I thought you were to have brought Mr. Royston with you.

With. He left us at a shop by the way, to enquire the price of turnip seed; but he will be here by-and-by, if a hundred other things do not prevent him. (Bows to Sir Loftus; then turns to Harwood, and speaks as if he resumed a conversation which had just been broken off, whilst Sir Loftus and Mariane retire to the bottom of the stage.) I perfectly agree with you, Mr Harwood, that the study and preparation requisite for your profession is not altogether a dry treasuring up of facts in the memory, as many of your young students conceive: he who pleads the cause of man before fellow-men, must know what is in the heart of man as well as what is in the book of records, and what study is there in nature so noble, so interesting as this?

Har. But the most pleasing part of our task, my good sir, is not the least difficult. Where application only is wanting I shall not be left behind, for I am not without ambition, though the younger son of a family by no means affluent; and I have a widow mother whose hopes of seeing me respectable, must not be disappointed. I assure you there is nothing—(Listening.)

With. Go on, Mr. Harwood, I have great pleasure in hearing you.

Har. I thought I heard a door move.

With. It is Agnes in the next room, I dare say, she is always making a noise.

Har. In the next room!

With. But you was going to assure me—Have the goodness to proceed.

Har. I was going to say—I rather think I said—I am sure—(Listening again.)

With. Poo! there is no body there.

Har. Well, I said—I think I told you—In faith, my good sir, I will tell you honestly, I have forgot what I meant to say.

With. No matter, you will remember it again. Ha, ha, ha! it puts me in mind of a little accident which happened to myself when I was in Lincoln's Inn. Two or three of us met one evening, to be a little cheerful together, and—(Whilst Withrington begins his story, Agnes enters softly from the adjoining closet unperceived; but Harwood on seeing her, runs eagerly up to her, leaving Withrington astonished, in the middle of his discourse.)

Har. to Ag. Ha! after so many false alarms, you steal upon us at last like a little thief.

Ag. And I steal something very good from you too, if you lose my uncle's story by this interruption; for I know by his face he was telling one.

With. Raillery is not always well-timed, Miss Agnes Withrington.

Ag. Nay, do not be cross with us, sir. Mr. Harwood knew it was too good to be spent upon one pair of ears, so he calls in another to partake.

With. Get along, baggage.

Ag. So I will, uncle; for I know that only means with you that I should perk myself up by your elbow.

With. Well, two or three of us young fellows were met—did I not say—

Ag. At Lincoln's Inn. (Withrington hesitates.)

Har. She has named it, sir.

With. I know well enough it was there. And if I remember well, George Buckner was one of us. (Agnes gives a gentle hem to suppress a cough.)

Har. (eagerly.) You was going to speak, Miss Withrington?

Ag. Indeed, I was not.

With. Well, George Buckner and two three more of us—We were in a very pleasant humour that night (Agnes making a slight motion of her hand to fasten some pin in her dress.)

Har. (eagerly.) Do you not want something? (To Agnes.)

Ag. No, I thank you, I want nothing.

With. (Half amused, half peevish.) Nay, say what you please to one another, for my story is ended.

Har. My dear sir, we are perfectly attentive.

Ag. Now, pray, uncle!

With. to Ag. Now pray hold thy tongue. I forgot, I must consult the Court Calendar on Royston's account. (Goes to a table and takes up a red book, which he turns over.)

Ag. to Har. How could you do so to my uncle? I would not have interrupted him for the world.

Har. Ay, chide me well: I dearly love to be chidden.

Ag. Do not invite me to it. I am said to have a very good gift that way, and you would soon have too much of it, I believe.

Har. O no! I would come every hour to be chidden!

Ag. And take it meekly too?

Har. Nay, I would have my revenge: I should call you scolding Agnes, and little Agnes, and my little Agnes.

Ag. You forget my dignity, Mr Harwood.

Har. Oh! you put all dignity out of countenance! The great Mogul himself would forget his own in your presence.

Ag. Am I, as the good folks say, such a very humbling sight? But they are going to the garden: I am resolved to be one of the party. (As she goes to join Sir Loftus and Mariane, who open a glass door leading to the garden, Harwood goes before, walking backwards, and his face turned to her.) You will break your pate presently, if you walk with that retrograde step, like a dancing-master giving me a lesson. Do you think I shall follow you as if you had the fiddle in your hand?

Har. Ah, Miss Withrington! it is you who have got the fiddle, and I who must follow. [Exeunt into the garden.

Re-enter Sir Loftus from the Garden, looking about for his hat.

Sir Loft. O! here it is.

Enter Opal.

Op. What, here alone?

Sir Loft. She is in the garden, I shall join her immediately.

Op. All goes on well, I suppose?

Sir Loft. Why, I dont know how it is—nobody, hears us? (Looking round.) I dont know how it is, but she does not seem to comprehend perfectly in what light I am regarded by the world; that is to say, by that part of it which deserves to be called so.

Op. No! that is strange enough.

Sir Loft. Upon my honour, she treats me with as much careless familiarity as if I were some plain neighbour's son in the country.

Op. 'Pon honour, this is very strange.

Sir Loft. I am not without hopes of succeeding; but I will confess to you, I wish she would change her manner of behaving to me. On the word of a gentleman, it is shocking! Suppose you were to give her a hint of the consequence I am honoured with in the fashionable circles, that she may just have an idea of the respect which is paid by every well-bred person—You understand me, Opal?

Op. O! perfectly. I shall give her to know that men like us, my dear friend, are accustomed to be looked upon as a class of superiour beings.

Sir Loft. (not quite satisfied.) I dont know—Suppose you were to leave out all mention of yourself—Your own merit could not fail to be inferred.

Op. Well, I shall do so.

Sir Loft. Let us go the garden.[Exeunt.

Enter Miss Eston, speaking as she enters.

I have been all over the town, and here am I at last quite tired to death. How do you?—(Looking round.) O la! there is nobody here. Mr. Opal is gone too. I'll wait till their return. (Takes up a book, then looks at herself in the glass, then takes up the book again. Yawning,) 'Tis all about the imagination, and the understanding, and I dont know what—I dare say it is good enough to read of a Sunday. (Yawns and lays it down.) O la! I wish they would come.

Enter Royston, and takes Miss Eston for Miss Withrington.

Roys. Madam, I have the honour to be your very humble servant. I hoped to have been here sooner, but I have been so overwhelmed with a multiplicity of affairs; and you know, madam, when that is the case—

Est. (Taking the word out of his mouth.) One is never master of one's time for a moment. I'm sure I have been all over the town this morning, looking after a hundred things; till my head has been put into such a confusion! La, ma'am! said my millener, do take some lavender drops, you look so pale. Why, says I, I dont much like to take them, Mrs. Trollop, they a'nt always good.

Roys. No more they are, ma'am, you are very right; and if a silly fellow, I know, had taken my advice last year, and bought up the lavender drops, he would have made—

Est. (Taking the word from him again.) A very good fortune, I dare say. But people never will take advice, which is very foolish in them, to be sure. Now I always take—

Roys. Be so good as to hear me, ma'am.

Est. Certainly, sir; For I always say if they give me advice it is for my good, and why should not I take it?

Roys. (Edging in his word as fast as he can.) And the damn'd foolish fellow too! I once saved him from being cheated in a horse; and—

Est. La! there are such cheats! a friend of mine bought a little lap-dog the other day—

Roys. But the horse, madam, was—

Est. Not worth a guinea, I dare say. Why they had the impudence to palm it on my friend.

Both speaking together.

Est. As a pretty little dog, which had been bred
Roys. It was a good mettled horse, and might
E. up for a lady of quality, and when she had
R. have passed as a good purchase at the money,
E. just made a cushion for it at the foot of her
R. but on looking his fore feet—(Stops short, and lets her go on.)
own bed, she found it was all over mangy. I'm sure I would rather have a plain wholesome cat, than the prettiest mangy dog in the kingdom.

Roys. Certainly, ma'am. And I assure you the horse—for says I to the groom—

Both speaking together.

Est. O! I dare say it was—and who would
Roys. What is the matter with this pastern,
E. have suspeeted that a dog bred up on pur-
R. Thomas? it looks as if it were rubbed—(Stops short again, and looks at her with astonishment as she goes on talking,)
E. pose for a lady of quality, should be all over so? nasty creature! It had spots upon its back as large as my watch. (Taking up her watch.) O la! I am half an hour after my time. My mantua-maker is waiting for me. Good morning, sir. [Exit, hastily.

Roys. (Looking after her.) Clack, clack, clack, clack! What a devil of a tongue she has got! 'Faith! George shall have her, and I'll e'en ask the place for myself. (Looking out.) But there is company in the garden! I'll go and join them. [Exit to the garden.