SCENE II.

Before an Inn. Enter Rover and Waiter.

Rover. Hillo! friend, when does the coach set out for London?

Waiter. In about an hour, sir.

Rover. Has the Winchester coach passed?

Waiter. No, sir. [Exit.

Rover. That's lucky! Then my trunk is here still. Go I will not. Since I've lost the fellowship of my friend Dick, I'll travel no more, I'll try a London audience, who knows but I may get an engagement. This celestial lady quaker! She must be rich, and ridiculous for such a poor dog as I am, even to think of her. How Dick would laugh at me if he knew—I dare say by this she has released my kind host from the gripe—I should like to be certain, though.

Enter Landlord.

Land. You'll dine here, sir? I'm honest Bob Johnstone; kept the Sun these twenty years. Excellent dinner on table at two.

Rover. "Yet my love indeed is appetite; I'm as hungry as the sea, and can digest as much."

Land. Then you won't do for my shilling ordinary, sir; there's a very good ordinary at the Saracen's head, at the end of the town. Shou'dn't have thought indeed, hungry foot travellers to eat like——coming, sir. [Exit.

Rover. I'll not join this company at Winchester. I will take a touch at a London theatre. The public there are candid and generous, and before my merit can have time to create enemies, I'll save money, and,—"a fig for the Sultan and Sophy."

Enter Jane, at the back, and Sim, watching her.

Jane. Ay, that's he!

Rover. But if I fail, by Heaven I'll overwhelm the manager, his empire, and—"himself in one prodigious ruin."

Jane. Ruin! Oh Lord! [Runs back.]

Sim. What can you expect, when you follow young men? I've dodg'd you all the way.

Jane. Well! wasn't I sent?

Sim. Oh yes, you were sent—very likely. Who sent you?

Jane. It was—I won't tell it's my lady, 'cause she bid me not. [Aside.]

Sim. I'll keep you from sheame—a fine life I should have in the parish, rare fleering, if a sister of moine should stand some Sunday at church in a white sheet, and to all their flouts what could I say?

Rover. Thus, "I say my sister's wrong'd, my sister Blowsabella, born as high and noble as the attorney—do her justice, or by the gods I'll lay a scene of blood, shall make this haymow horrible to Beebles."—"Say that, Chamont."

Sim. I believe it's full moon. You go hoame to your place, and moind your business.

Jane. My lady will be so pleas'd I found him! I don't wonder at it, he's such a fine spoken man.

Sim. Dang it! Will you stand here grinning at the wild bucks.

Jane. Perhaps the gentleman might wish to send her ladyship a compliment. An't please you, sir, if it's even a kiss between us two, it shall go safe; for, though you should give it me, brother Sim then can take it to my lady.

Rover. "I kiss'd thee e'er I kill'd thee."

Jane. Kill me!

Rover. "No way but this, killing myself to die upon a kiss!" [Advancing.]

Sim. Go! [To Jane—puts her out.]

Rover. "Ay; to a nunnery go to." I'm cursedly out of spirits; but hang sorrow, I may as well divert myself.—"'Tis meat and drink for me to see a clown."—"Shepherd, was't ever at Court?"

Sim. Not I.

Rover. "Then thou art damn'd."

Sim. Eh!

Rover. Ay, "thou art damn'd like an ill roasted egg—all on one side."—Little Hospitality.

[Looking out.

Enter Farmer Gammon.

F. Gam. Eh, where's the showman, that wants to hire my barn? So, Madam Jane, I place her out to sarvice, and instead of attending her mistress, she gets gallopping all about the village.—How's this, son?

Rover. "Your son? Young Clodpate, take him to your wheat stack, and there teach him manners."

F. Gam. Ah, thou'rt the fellow that would bolt out of the dirty roads into people's houses. Ho, ho, ho! Sim's schooling is mightily thrown away if he hasn't more manners than thou.

Sim. Why, feyther, it is! Gadzooks, he be one of the play! Acted Tom Fool, in King Larry, at Lymington, t'other night—I thought I know'd the face, thof he had a straw cap, and a blanket about'n—Ho, ho! how comical that was when you said—

Rover. "Pillicock sat upon Pillicock hill, pil—i—loo, loo!"

Sim. That's it! He's at it! [Claps.] Laugh, feyther.

F. Gam. Hold your tongue, boy! I believe he's no better than he should be. The moment I saw him, says I to myself, you are a rogue.

Rover. There you spoke truth for once in your life.

F. Gam. I'm glad to hear you confess it. But her ladyship shall have the vagrants whipp'd out of the country.

Rover. Vagrant! "Thou wretch! despite o'erwhelm thee!" "Only squint, and, by Heaven, I'll beat thy blown body till it rebounds like a tennis ball."

Sim. Beat my feyther! No, no. Thou must first beat me. [Puts himself in a posture of defence.]

Rover. [Aside, with great feeling.] "Though love cool, friendship fall off, brothers divide, subjects rebel, oh! never let the sacred bond be crack'd 'twixt son and father!"—I never knew a father's protection, never had a father to protect. [Puts his handkerchief to his eyes.]

Sim. Ecod! he's not acting now!

Enter Landlord, with a book, pen, and ink.

F. Gam. Landlord, is this Mr. Lamp here?

Land. I've just opened a bottle for him and t'other in the parlour.

Rover. "Go, father, with thy son; give him a livery more guarded than his fellows."

Sim. Livery! Why, I be no sarvant man, though sister Jane is. Gi's thy hand. [To Rover.] I don't know how 'tis; but I think I could lose my life for him; but mustn't let feyther be lickt though—No, no! [Going, turns and looks at Rover.] Ecod, I ne'er shall forget Pillicock!

[Exeunt Farmer Gammon and Sim.

Rover. Thou art an honest reptile, I'll make my entrée on the London boards in Bayes, yes, I shall have no comparison against me. "Egad, it's very hard that a gentleman and an author can't come to teach them, but he must break his nose, and—and—all that—but—so the players are gone to dinner."

Land. No such people frequent the Sun, I assure you.

Rover. "Sun, moon, and stars!"—Now mind the eclipse, Mr. Johnson.

Land. I heard nothing of it, sir.

Rover. "There's the sun between the earth and moon—there's the moon between the earth and the sun, tol, lol, lol! dance the hay! Luna means to show her tail."

Enter Waiter.

Waiter. Two gentlemen in the parlour would speak with you.

Rover. "I attend them, were they twenty times our mother."

Waiter. Your mother, sir! why it is two gentlemen.

Rover. Say I attend them with all respect and duty. [Exit Waiter.

Land. Sir, you go in the stage; as we book the passengers, what name?

Rover. "I am the bold Thunder." [Exit.

Land. [Writing.] Mr. Thunder.

Enter John Dory.

John. I want two places in the stage coach, because I and another gentleman are going a voyage.

Land. Just two vacant; what name?

John. Avast! I go aloft. But let's see who'll be my master's messmates in the cabin: [Reads.] Captain Muccolah, Counsellor Fazacherly, Miss Gosling, Mr. Thunder. What's this? speak, man! is there one of that name going?

Land. Booked him this minute.

John. If our voyage should now be at an end before we begin it?—If this Mr. Thunder should be my master's son!—What rate is this vessel?

Land. Rate!

John. What sort of a gentleman is he?

Land. Oh; a rum sort of a gentleman; I suspect he's one of the players.

John. True; Sam said it was some player's people coaxed him away from Portsmouth school. It must be the 'squire—show me where he's moored, my old purser.

[Exit, singing, and Landlord following.