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Ralph. Why, what is it I have promised?
Funny. To marry me in the church, you have, a hundred times.
Ralph. Well, and mayhap I will, if you'll have patience.
Fanny. Patience me no patience; you may do it now if you please.
Ralph. Well, but suppose I don't please; I tell you, Fan, you're a fool, and want to quarrel with your bread and butter; I have had anger enow from feyther already, upon your account, and you want me to come by more-As I said, if you have patience, mayhap things may fall out, and mayhap not.
Fanny. With all my heart then; and, now I know your mind, you may go hang yourself.
Ralph. Ay, ay!
Ralph. Well, and who cares for you, an you go to that?
Fanny. A menial feller! Go, mind your mill and your drudgery; I don't think you worthy to wipe my shoes, -feller!
Ralph. Nay, but Fan, keep a civil tongue in your head-Odds flesh! I would fain know what fly bites all of a sudden now.
Fanny. Marry come up! the best gentlemen's sons in the country have made me proffers; and if one is a miss, be a miss to a gentleman, I say, that will give one fine clothes, and take one to see the show, and put money in one's pocket.
Ralph. Whu-whu-(Fanny hits him a Slap.] What's that for?
Funny. What do you whistle for then? Do you think I am a dog?
Ralph. Never trust me, Fan, if I have not a mind to give you, with this switch in my hand here, as good a lacing
Fanny. Touch me, if you dare : touch me, and I'll swear my life against you.
Ralph. A murrain! with her damn'd little fist as hard as she could draw ! - Fanny. Well, it's good enough for you: I'm not necessitated to take up with the impudence of such a low-lived monkey as you are.-A gentleman's my friend, and I can have twenty guineas in my hand, all as good as this is.
Ralph. Belike from this Londoner, eh?
Fanny. Yes, from him-so you may take your promise of marriage; I don't value it that-[Spits.] and if you speak to me, I'll slap your chops again.
Lord, sir, you seem mighty uneasy ;
But I the refusal can bear :
Nor die in a fit of despair.
For, sir, for to let you to know,
But I have two strings to my bow. (Exit, Ralph. Indeed! Now, I'll be judged by any soul living in the world, if ever there was a viler piece of treachery than this here; there is no such a thing as a true friend upon the face of the globe, and so I have said a hundred times! A couple of base, deceitfulafter all my love and kindness shown. Well, I'll be revenged; see an I ben't-Master Marvint, that's his name, an he do not sham it: he has come here and disguised unself; whereof 'tis contrary to law so to do: besides I do partly know why he did it; and I'll fish out the whole conjuration, and go up to the castle, and tell every syllable; a sha'n't carry a wench from me, were he twenty times the mon he is, and
twenty times to that again, and moreover than so, the first time I meet un, I'll knock un down, tho't 'twas before my lord himself; and he may capias me for it afterwards an he wull.
As they count me such a ninny,
So to let them rule the roast,
They have scored without their host.
A trick that's fairly worth two of it,
Thought the work as good as done,
Was so easy to be won.
A trick that's fairly worth two of it,
A Room in the Mill ; two Chairs, with a Table, and
a Tankard of Beer. Enter FAIRFIELD and LORD AIMWORTH. Fair. Oh the goodness, his lordship's honour-you are come into a littered place, my noble sir-the arm-chair-will it please your honour to repose you on this, till a better
Lord A. Thank you, Miller, there's no occasion for either, I only want to speak a few words to you, and have company waiting for me without.
Fair. Without-won't their honours favour my poor hovel so far
Lord A. No, Miller, let them stay where they are. -I find you are about marrying your daughterI know the great regard my mother had for her; and am satisfied, that nothing but her sudden death could have prevented her leaving her a handsome provision.
Fair. Dear, my lord, your noble mother, you, and all your family, have heaped favours upon favours on my poor child. - Lord A. Whatever has been done for her she has fully merited
Fair. Why, to be sure, my lord, she is a very good
Lord A. Poor old man-but those are tears of satisfaction.-Here, Master Fairfield, to bring matters to a short conclusion, here is a bill of a thousand pounds.— Portion your daughter with what you think convenient of it.
Fair. A thousand pound, my lord ! Pray excuse me; excuse me, worthy sir; too much has been done already, and we have no pretensions · Lord A. I insist upon your taking it.-Put it up, and say no more. · Fair. Well, my lord, if it must be so: but indeed, indeed : Lord A. In this I only fulfil what I am satisfied would please my mother. As to myself, I shall take upon me all the expenses of Patty's wedding, and have already given orders about it.
Fair. Alas, sir, you are too good, too generous ; but I fear we shall not be able to profit of your kind intentions, unless you will condescend to speak a little to Patty..
Lord A. How speak !
Bless'd, who no false glare requiring,
Seek the simple and serene.
Enter MERVIN and FANNY.
Mervin. Yonder she is seated, and, to my wish, nost fortunately alone.--Accost her as I desired.
Fanny. Heaven bless you, my sweet lady-bless your honour's beautiful visage, and send you a good husband, and a great many of them!
Theod. A very comfortable wish, upon my word! who are you, child ?
Fanny. A poor gipsy, an please you, that goes about begging from charitable gentlemen and ladies. -]f you have e'er a coal, or bit of whiting in your pocket, l'll write you the first letter of your sweetheart's name-how many husbands
will have, and how many children, my lady: or, if you'll let me look at your line of life, I'll tell you
whether it will be long or short, happy or miserable.
Theod. Oh! as for that I know it already-you cannot tell me any good fortune, and, therefore, I'll hear none.-Go about your business.
Mer. Stay, madarn, stay—[Pretending to lift a Paper from the Ground]-you have dropped something-Fan, call the young gentlewoman back.
Fanny. Lady, you have lost
Mer. Yes, that paper, lady; you dropped it as you got up from the chair.–Fan, give it to her honour. Theod. A letter, with my address !
[Takes the Paper, and reads.