_Tom_. In the dining room, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. Tell him I wou'd speak with him. [_Exit_ Tomlins.] 'Tis more than probable.--Spare to speak and spare to speed. Try--try--always try the human heart:--try is as guid a maxim in politics as in war.--Why, suppose this Sidney now shou'd be privy till his friend Charles's love for Constantia.--What then? guid traith, it is natural to think that his ain love will demand the preference,--ay, and obtain it too.--Yes, self--self is an eloquent advocate on these occasions, and seldom loses his cause. I have the general principle of human nature at least to encourage me in the experiment;--for only make it a man's interest to be a rascal, and I think we may safely depend upon his integrity--in serving himself.

_Enter_ SIDNEY.

_Sid_. Sir Pertinax, your servant.--Mr. Tomlins told me you desired to speak with me.

_Sir Per_. Yes, I wanted to speak with you upon a vary singular business.

Maister Sidney, give me your hand.--Guin it did nai look like flattery, which I detest, I wou'd tell you, Maister Sidney, that you are an honour till your cloth, your country, and till human nature.

_Sid_. Sir, you are very obliging.

_Sir Per_. Sit you down, Maister Sidney:--Sit you down here by me. My friend, I am under the greatest obligations till you for the care you have taken of Charles.--The principles--religious, moral, and political-- that you have infused intill him, demand the warmest return of grat.i.tude both fra him and fra me.

_Sid_. Your approbation, sir, next to that of my own conscience, is the best test of my endeavours, and the highest applause they can receive.

_Sir Per_. Sir, you deserve it,--richly deserve it.--And now, sir, the same care that you have had of Charles,--the same my wife has taken of her favourite Constantia.--And sure, never were accomplishments, knowledge or principles, social and religious, infused intill a better nature.

_Sid_. In truth, sir, I think so too.

_Sir Per_. She is besides a gentlewoman, and of as guid a family as any in this county.

_Sid_. So I understand, sir.

_SirPer_. Sir, her father had a vast estate; the which he dissipated and melted in feastings, and friendships, and charities, hospitalities, and sic kind of nonsense.--But to the business.--Maister Sidney, I love you,-- yes,--I love you,--and I have been looking out and, contriving how to settle you in the world.--Sir, I want to see you comfortably and honourably fixt at the head of a respectable family,--and guin you were mine ain son, a thousand times,--I cou'd nai make a more valuable present till you for that purpose, as a partner for life, than this same Constantia,--with sic a fortune down with her as you yourself shall deem to be competent,--and an a.s.surance of every canonical contingency in my power to confer or promote.

_Sid_. Sir, your offer is n.o.ble and friendly:--but tho' the highest station would derive l.u.s.tre from Constantia's charms and worth, yet, were she more amiable than love could paint her in the lover's fancy,--and wealthy beyond the thirst of the miser's appet.i.te,--I could not--would not wed her. [_Rises._

_Sir Per_. Not wed her! odswunds, man! you surprise me!--Why so?--what hinders?

_Sid_. I beg you will not ask a reason for my refusal,--but, briefly and finally--it cannot be; nor is it a subject I can longer converse upon.

_Sir Per_. Weel, weel, weel, sir, I have done,--I have done.--Sit down, man;--sit down again;--sit you down.--I shall mention it no more;--not but I must confess honestly till you, friend Sidney, that the match, had you approved of my proposal, besides profiting you, wou'd have been of singular service till me likewise.--However, you may still serve me as effectually as if you had married her.

_Sid_. Then, sir, I am sure I will most heartily.

_Sir Per_. I believe it, friend Sidney,--and I thank you.--I have nai friend to depend upon, but yourself. My heart is almost broke.--I cannot help these tears,--And, to tell you the fact at once--your friend Charles is struck with a most dangerous malady,--a kind of insanity.--You see I cannot help weeping when I think of it;--in short this Constantia, I am afraid, has cast an evil eye upon him.--Do you understand me?

_Sid._ Not very well, sir.

_Sir Per._ Why, he is grievously smitten with the love of her;--and, I am afraid, will never be cured without a little of your a.s.sistance.

_Sid._ Of my a.s.sistance! pray, sir, in what manner?

_Sir Per._ In what manner? Lord, Maister Sidney, how can you be so dull?

Why, how is any man cured of his love till a wench, but by ganging to bed till her? Now do you understand me?

_Sid._ Perfectly, sir--perfectly.

_Sir Per._ Vary weel.--Now then, my very guid friend, guin you wou'd but give him that hint, and take an opportunity to speak a guid word for him till the wench;--and guin you wou'd likewise cast about a little now,--and contrive to bring them together once,--why, in a few days after he wou'd nai care a pinch of snuff for her. [Sidney _starts up._] What is the matter with you, man?--What the devil gars you start and look so astounded?

_Sid._ Sir, you amaze me.--In what part of my mind or conduct have you found that baseness, which ent.i.tles you to treat me with this indignity?

_Sir Per._ Indignity! What indignity do you mean, sir? Is asking you to serve a friend with a wench an indignity? Sir, am I not your patron and benefactor? Ha?

_Sid._ You are, sir, and I feel your bounty at my heart;--but the virtuous grat.i.tude, that sowed the deep sense of it there, does not inform me that, in return, the tutor's sacred function, or the social virtue of the man must be debased into the pupil's pander, or the patron's prost.i.tute.

_Sir Per._ How! what, sir! do you dispute? Are you nai my dependent? ha?

And do you hesitate about an ordinary civility, which is practised every day by men and women of the first fashion? Sir, let me tell you,--however nice you may be, there is nai a client about the court that wou'd nai jump at sic an opportunity to oblige his patron.

_Sid._ Indeed, sir, I believe the doctrine of pimping for patrons, as well as that of prost.i.tuting eloquence and public trust for private lucre, may be learned in your party schools:--for where faction and public venality are taught as measures necessary to good government and general prosperity--there every vice is to be expected.

_Sir Per._ Oho! oho! vary weel! vary weel! fine slander upon ministers!

fine sedition against government! O, ye villain! you--you--you are a black sheep;--and I'll mark you.--I am glad you shew yourself.--Yes, yes,--you have taken off the mask at last;--you have been in my service for many years, and I never knew your principles before.

_Sid._ Sir, you never affronted them before:--if you had, you should have known them sooner.

_Sir Per._ It is vary weel.--I have done with you.--Ay, ay; now I can account for my son's conduct--his aversion till courts, till ministers, levees, public business, and his disobedience till my commands.--Ah! you are a Judas--a perfidious fellow;--you have ruined the morals of my son, you villain.--But I have done with you.--However, this I will prophecy at our parting, for your comfort,--that guin you are so very squeamish about bringing a lad and a la.s.s together, or about doing sic an a harmless innocent job for your patron, you will never rise in the church.

_Sid._ Though my conduct, sir, should not make me rise in her power, I am sure it will in her favour, in the favour of my own conscience too, and in the esteem of all worthy men;--and that, sir, is a power and dignity beyond what patrons, or any minister can bestow. [_Exit._

_Sir Per._ What a rigorous, saucy, stiff-necked rascal it is! I see my folly now.--I am undone by mine ain policy.--This Sidney is the last man that shou'd have been about my son:--The fellow, indeed, hath given him principles, that might have done vary weel among the ancient Romans,--but are d.a.m.n'd unfit for the modern Britons.--Weel, guin I had a thousand sons, I never wou'd suffer one of these English, university-bred fellows to be about a son of mine again;--for they have sic an a pride of literature and character, and sic saucy, English notions of liberty continually fermenting in their thoughts, that a man is never sure of them. Now, if I had had a Frenchman, or a foreigner of any kind, about my son, I cou'd have pressed him at once into my purpose,--or have kicked the rascal out of my house in a twinkling.--But what am I to do?--Zoons! he must nai marry this beggar;--I cannot sit down tamely under that.--Stay,-- haud a wee.--By the blood, I have it.--Yes--I have hit upon it.--I'll have the wench smuggled till the highlands of Scotland to-morrow morning.--Yes, yes,--I'll have her smuggled--

_Enter_ BETTY HINT.

_Bet._ O! sir,--I have got the whole secret out.

_Sir Per._ About what?

_Bet._ About Miss Constantia. I have just got all the particulars from farmer Hilford's youngest daughter, Sukey Hilford.

_Sir Per._ Weel, weel, but what is the story? Quick, quick--what is it?

_Bet._ Why, sir, it is certain that Mrs. Constantia has a sweetheart--or a husband,--a sort of a gentleman--or a gentleman's gentleman, they don't know which--that lodges at Gaffer Hodges's--and it is whispered all about the village that she is with child by him; for Sukey says she saw them together last night in the dark walk--and Mrs. Constantia was all in tears.

_Sir Per._ Zoons! I am afraid this is too guid news to be true.

_Bet._ O! sir, 'tis certainly true, for I myself have observed that she has looked very pale for some time past--and could not eat,--and has qualms every hour of the day.--Yes, yes, sir--depend upon it, she is breeding, as sure as my name is Betty Hint..--Besides, sir, she has just writ a letter to her gallant, and I have sent John Gardener to her, who is to carry it to him to Hadley.--Now, sir, if your worship would seize it-- See, see, sir,--here John comes with the letter in his hand.

_Sir Per._ Step you out, Betty, and leave the fellow till me.

_Bet._ I will, sir. [_Exit._

_Enter_ JOHN, _with a Packet and a Letter._

_John._ [_Putting the packet into his pocket._] There--go you into my pocket.--There's n.o.body in the library, so I'll e'en go thro' the short way.--Let me see, what is the name?--Mel--Meltil--O, no!--Melville, at Gaffer Hodges's.

_Sir Per._ What letter is that, sir?