ACT I. SCENE I.

Sir ROGER, Sir HUMPHRY, Justice STATUTE, CONSTABLE, FILBERT, SERGEANT, KITTY, DORCAS, GRANDMOTHER, AUNT.

Sir ROGER.

HERE, Thomas Filbert, answer to your name,

Dorcas hath fworn to you fhe owes her shame :

Or wed her ftraight, or else you're sent afar,
To ferve his gracious Majefty in war

FILBERT.

'Tis false; 'tis falfe-I fcorn thy odious touch.

[Pufbing Dorcas from him.

DORCAS.

When their turn's ferv'd, all men will do as much.

KITTY.

Ah, good your Worships, ease a wretched maid,
To the right father let the child be laid.
Art thou not perjur'd? mark his harmless look.
How can't thou, Dorcas, kifs the Bible book?

Haft

Haft thou no confcience, dost not fear Old Nick?
Sure fure the ground will ope, and take thee quick.
SERGEANT.

Zooks! never wed, 'tis fafer much to roam;
For what is war abroad to war at home?
Who would not fooner bravely rifque his life s
For what's a cannon to a scolding wife?

FILBERT.

Well, if I muft, I muft, I hate the wench,
F'll bear a musket then against the French.
From door to door I'd fooner whine and beg,
Both arms fhot off, and on a wooden leg,
Then marry fuch a trapes-No, no, I'll not:
-Thou wilt too late repent when I am shot.
But, Kitty, why dost cry ?—

GRANDMOTHER.
-Stay, Juftice, ftay;

Ah, little did I think to see this day !

Muft Grandfon Filbert to the wars be preft ?
Alack! I knew him when he fuck'd the breaft
Taught him his catechifm, the fescue held,
And join'd his letters, when the bantling spell'd.
His loving mother left him to my care,

Fine child, as like his Dad as he could ftare!

Come

Come Candlemas, nine years ago fhe dy'd,
And now lies buried by the yew-tree's fide.
AUNT.

O tyrant Justices! have you forgot

How my poor brother was in Flanders fhot
You prefs'd my brother-he fhall walk in white,
He fhall and shake your curtains ev'ry night.
What though a paltry hare he rafhly kill'd,

That crofs'd the furrows while he plough'd the Field
You fent him o'er the hills and far away;

Left his old mother to the parish pay,

With whom he fhar'd his ten pence ev'ry day.
Wat kill'd a bird, was from his farm turn'd out ;.
You took the law of Thomas for a trout::
You ruin'd my poor uncle at the fizes,
And made him pay nine pound for Nifiprifes.
Now will you prefs my harmless nephew too?
Ah? what has confcience with the rich to do!

}

[Sir Roger takes up the Tankard

Though in my hand no filver tankard fhine,
Nor my dry lip be dy'd with claret wine,

Yet I can fleep in peace

Sir ROGER.

[After baving drunk

-Woman, forbear.

Sin

Sir HUMPHRY.

The man's within the act

Juftice STATUTE.

The law is clear.

SERGEANT.

[Drinking.

[Drinking alfo.

Hafte, let their Worships orders be obey'd.

KITTY.

Behold how low you have reduc'd a maid.
Thus to your Worships on my knees I fue,
(A posture never known but in the pew)
If we can money for our taxes find,

[Kneeling.

Take that but ah! our sweethearts leave behind. To trade fo barb'rous he was never bred,

The blood of vermin all the blood he fhed::

How should he, harmless youth, how fhould he then Who kill'd but poulcats, learn to murder men?

DORCAS.

Thomas, Thomas, hazard not thy life;
By all that's good, I'll make a loving wife;
I'll prove a true pains-taker day and night,
I'll fpin and card, and keep our children tight..
I can knit ftockings, you can thatch a barn;
If you earn. ten-pence, I my groat can earn.

How

How fhall I weep to hear this infant cry?

[Her hand on her belly.

He'll have no father--and no husband I.

KITTY.

Hold, Thomas, hold, nor hear that fhameless witch:

I can fow plain-work, I can darn and stitch;
I can bear fultry days and frofty weather;
Yes, yes, my Thomas, we will go together;
Beyond the feas together will we go,
In camps together, as at harveft, glow.
This arm shall be a bolíter for thy head,

I'll fetch clean straw to make my foldier's bed:
There, while thou fleep'ft, my apron o'er thee hold,
Or with it patch thy tent against the cold.

Pigs in hard rains I've watch'd, and fhall I do
That for the pigs, I would not bear for you?
FILBERT.

Oh, Kitty, Kitty, canst thou quit the rake,
And leave these meadows for thy fweetheart's fake
Canft thou so many gallant foldiers see,

And captains and lieutenants flight for me?
Say, canft thou hear the guns, and never shake,
Nor start at oaths that make a chriftian quake?

Canft