« PreviousContinue »
Giles what is it you have got to say to me? If I can do you any service, this company will give you leave to speak.
Giles. I thank your lordship, I has not got a great deal to say; I do come to your lordship about a little business, if you'll please to give me the hearing. 458
L. Aim. Certainly, only let me know what it is.
Giles. Why an please you my lord, being left alone, as I may say, feyther dead, and all the business upon my own hands, I do think of settling and taking a wife, and am come to ax your honour's consent.
L. Aim. My consent, farmer! if that be necessary, you have it with all my heart-1 hope you have taken care to make a prudent choice.
Giles. Why I do hope so, my lord.
L. Aim. Well, and who is the happy fair one? Does she live in
469 Giles. No, my lord, she does not live in your house, but she's a parson of your acquaintance.
1. Aim. Of my acquaintance !
1. Aim. None in the least : but how is she an acquaintance of mine ?
Giles. Your lordship do know Miller Fairfield ? L. Aim. WellGiles. And Patty Fairfield, his daughter, my lord ? L. im. Ay is it her you think of marrying? Giles. Why, if so be as your lordship has no objection; to be sure we will do nothing without your consent and approbation.
L. Aim. Upon my word, farmer, you have made an excellent choice-It is a god-daughter of my mother's, madam, who was bred up under her care, and I protest I do not know a more amiable young woman.But are you sure, farmer, that Patty herself is inclinable to this match.
Giles. O yes, my lord I am sartain of that. 489
L. Aim. Perhaps then she desired you to come and ask my consent?
Giles. Why as far as this here, my lord; to be sure, the miller did not care to publish the banns, without making your lordship acquainted-But I hope your honour's not angry with I.
L. Aim. Angry farmer! why should you think so?what interest have I in it to be
? S. Har. And so, honest farmer, you are going to be married to little Patty Fairfield ? She's an old acquaintance of mine; how long have you and she been sweethearts ?
501 Giles. Not a long while, an please your worship.
S. Har. Well, her father's a good warm fellow; I suppose you take care that she brings something to make the pot boil?
L. Syc. What does that concern you, Sir Harry ? how often must I tell you of meddling in other peo
ple's affairs ?
S. Har. My lord, a penny for your thoughts. 509
L. Aim. I beg your pardon, Sir Harry; upon my word, I did not think where I was.
511 Giles. Well then, your honour, I'll make bold to
be taking my leave; I may say you gave consent for Miss Patty and I to go on.
L. Aim. Undoubtedly, farmer, if she approves of it: but are you not afraid that her education has rendered her a little unsuitable for a wife for
you L. Syc. Oh my lord, if the girl's handyS. Har. Oh, ay-when a girl's handy
519 Giles. Handy! Why, saving respect, there's nothing comes amiss to her; she's cute at every varsal kind of thing
Odd's my life, search England over,
match her in her station,
Do but feel my heart a beating,
When she makes the music tinkle,
What on yearth can sweeter be?
'Tis a feast to hear and see.
LORD AIMWORTH, SIR HARRY, LADY SYCAMORE.
S. Har. By dad this is a good merry fellow, is not he in love, with his pitty patty— And so my lord you have given your consent that he shall marry your mother's old housekeeper. Ah, well, I can see
L. Aim. Nobody doubts, Sir Harry, that you are very clear-sighted.
549 S. Har. Yes, yes, let me alone, I know what's what: I was a young fellow once myself; and I should have been glad of a tenant, to take a pretty girl off my hands now and then, as well as another.
L. Aim. I protest my dear friend, I don't understand you.
1. Syc. Nor nobody else—Sir Harry you are going at some beastliness now.
548 S. Har. Who I, my lady? Not I, as I hope to live and breathe ; 'tis nothing to us you know, what my lord does before he's married; when I was a bachelor, I was a devil among the wenches, myself; and yet I vow to George, my lord, since I knew my lady Sycamore, and we shall be man and wife eighteen years, if we live till next-Candlemas-day, I never had to do
L. Syc. Sir Harry, come out of the room, I desire.
S. Har. Why, what's the matter, my lady, I did not say any harm?
L. Syc. I see what you are driving at, you want to make me faint.
S. Har. I want to make you faint, my lady!
L. Syc. Yes you do—and if you don't come out this instant I shall fall down in the chamber-I beg, my lord, you won't speak to him.-Will you come out, Sir Harry.
S. Har. Nay, but my lady!
This worthy Baronet, and his lady, are certainly a very whimsical couple; however, their daughter is perfectly amiable in every respect: and yet I am sorry I have brought her down here; for can I in honour marry her, while my affections are engaged to another? To what does the pride of condition and the censure of the world force me! Must I then renounce the only person that can make me happy ; because, because what? because she's a miller's daughter? Vain pride, and unjust censure! has she not all the graces that education can give her sex ; improved by a genius seldom found among the highest ? has she not modesty, sweetness of temper, and beauty of person, capable of adorning a rank the most exalted? But it is too late to think of these things now; my hand is