3605 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD ENDOWMENT FUND THE LONDON HERMIT, OR, RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE, A COMEDY, AS PERFORMED Wrtll UNIVERSAL APPLAUSE AT THE THEATRES ROYAL. By JOHN O'KEEFFE,Efg. .-.I THGROF Tony Lumpkin in Town, The Son-in-law, The D^ad Alive, Agreeable Sur-, prize, Caftle of Andalulu, Fontainbieui, or Our Way in France, The Pofitive Man, The Poor Soldier, Love in a Camp, or Patrick in Pruflia, The Farmer, The Young Quaker, Beggar on Horfeback, Peeping Tom, The Prifoner at Large, The Toy, or Hampton Court Frolics, Wild Oats, or the Strolling Gentlemen, Little Hunchback, The Siege of Curzoia, Mo- dern Antiques; or the Merry Mourners, The Highland Reel, Birth-Day, or Prince of Arragon, Sprigs of La.:rel> Lifs's Vagaries, Irifll Mimic, or Blunders a: Brighton, &c. FIFTH EDITION". LONDON: Priated fur J. BARK &H, Dratr.a:ic Repifitsry, Ruflell-Cotirr, Drury-Lane. 1798. [Pr. is 6d] ff'kere tht following Pieces fy Mr. O'Keeffe art pullifbtd : Life's Vagaries.-.-Infli Mimic. Little Hunchback. Birth-Da/ .:iJs, an Ode.Tvr.y Lumpkin inTowa. PR DEDICATION. TO THE REV. BALL, OF WINFRITH, NEAR WEYMOUTH. DEAR SIR, TTfHEN I rambled into Dorfetfliire in the fummer of 1 7 9 1 , my only introdu&ion to your acquaintance was your own frank affability, and my fole recommendation to your hofpitable roof, that I was a ftranger. By your good-natured politenefs, my mind was cheered iu the folitudes of Lulworth, and by your many friendly and kind offices I was furnifhed with informa- tion in a place where all was novelty, i though 956316 DEDICATION. though my firft charm there was the certainty of what I had fuppofed to be common in England, a pious and be- nevolent clergyman ; and though I could, previous to my vifi:s at Win- frith, boaft the honour of having flood before the great gates of a bifhop's palace ; yet, for the comforts I there enjoyed in the little parlour of a country parfonage-houfe, accept this trifling tefU'mony of well-remembered goodnefs to ? > DEAR SIR, Your highly honoured, and much obliged fervant, J. O'KEEFFE, B ROMP TON, July 13, 179;- P RO- PROLOGUE. Written }> GEORGE COLMAN, Jun. Efq. Spoken by Mr. BARRYMORE. THREAD cenfors ! by whofe nod we fink or rife ! ^~^ Be merry, pray, to-night, and not too wife ! Our bard will fmile at the ftricl critic rule, He had his learning in a laughing fchool. Order, and ancient laws, he dares neglect ; And rather would be pleafant, than correct ; Nay, fpite of all grave claffical communities, \Vou'd fooner make you laugh than keep the unities. Mirth is his aim and critics ! we implore you, Relax, while our light fcenes we lay before you i .Good-humour to the countenance adds graces, Unbend the iron mufcles of your faces 1 JLay acid wifdom by ; think mirth no fin ; Throw your four dignity afide, and grin ! Yet tho' we laugh we wou'd not quit the grounds Where fportive nature marks her ample bounds : Various her range ! calm, gay, then in the vapours We catch the goddefs while (he's cutting capers. To prove that we have caught her in the act, Our Hermitage is built upon a faff. If, then, the drama's frolic pencil draws A frolic fa6t away with critic laws ! And grant the fketcher's fancy your applaufe ! Oft has lie drawn before this ihop is full With touches from his hand ; and none thought dull ; Should this, to-night, feem vapid to your eyes, 'Twould prove a Dif- Agreeable Surprize Oh ' think on his collection now in ftore, And fmile on him, on whom you fmil'd before ! DRA- DRAMATIS PERSON M E A 7 . WHIMMY, OLD PRANKS, YOUNG PRANKS, PEREGRINE, APATHY, POZ, BITE, NATTY MAGGS, BARLEYCORN, TULLY, SKIP, BAREBONES, TOBY THATCH, CARTER, JOHN GRUM, POST BOY, JOHN, COACHMAN, Mr. SUETT. Mr. AICKIN. Mr. BANNISTER, Jun. Mr. EVATT. Mr. BLAND. Mr. BARRETT. Mr. COOKE. Mr. PALMER, Jun. Mr. BENSON. Mr. JOHNSTONE. Mr. ABBOT. Mr. WEWITZER. Mr. PARSONS, Mr. BURTON. Mr. ALFRED. Mr. CORNERFORD, Mr. LYONS. Mr. LEDGER. M E N. DIAN, - - - Mrs. MAGGS, KITTY BARLEYCORN, FISHWOMAN, - - LADIES, Mifs HEARD. Mrs. WERB. Mrs. KEMBLE. . Mrs. POWELL. J Mrs. CUYLER. [ Mrs. HALE. SCENE, DORSETSHIRE. THE THE LONDON HERMIT, RAMBLES in DORSETSHIRE. A C T I. SCENE I. Before a Country Inn and great Gates leadl to Whimmy's Houfe. Enter BARLEYCORN, .(from the Inn.) BARLEYCORN. , Toby Thatch ! what doft ftand gaping about there ? Enter TOBY. S Been up hill to look towards great road. BARLEYCORN. Any carnages coming ? I TOBY. Fine coach and four horfes -a high thing O me ! chay a pheaton (I think they call it) and a whif- key-me-gig, B BARLEY- 2 THE LONDON HERMIT, OT BARLEYCORN. And there's a boat full of company juft put in at the cove, all to fee 'Squire Whimmy's improve- jrients---Then there's our poney-race. Dang my buttons, we (hall have a houfe full to-day. What a donkey was I to let that daughter of mine go gad- ding to Blandford. Company flocking,- and my child, that ought to have my intereft at heart, when fhe fhou'd be preparing entertainment for the guefts, mayhap, fhe's now gawking, over a race-courfe. TOBY. And all the bufinefs left upon I. BARLEYCORN. Always grumbling, you idle rafcal. TOBY. Well, I've more trades than the beft idle rafcal in all England. I'm waiter and attend the company, as oftler I wait on horfes ; I paints die names on the fmugglers' boats ; I plays the fiddle at church ; I'm a tight lockfmith ; I'm a bit'n a pariiri conftable ; and for walking on meflages to Weymouth, Bland- ford, Corfe, Poole, or Wareham, I'm allow'd to be as fmart a footpad as any in the county of Dorfet. \Laughing without.] There's the 'Squire's farvams within, ha! ha! ha ! ---they've rare ft ingo at home, and yet come drinking our uplafh. I'll go farve 'em. (Going.} but there's their matter come upon 7 ef ; he's in a mortith fury with foril'at. BARLEYCORN. Dang my buttons ! This daughter ct mine not come yet, and here the houfe now chuck full. TOBY. IN DQRSKiSttiKC. TOBY- I'll run and fee ; for I warrants Kitty \yiil bring home fome fine ballads. BARLEYCORN. Our fubfcription's not full to buy the filver cup ; and the folks are already gaping for the race. Take you the paper about and ax what the company will give towards it. TOBY. I wool. [Exit. Enter WHIMMY, (in a rage.) WHIMMY. You, firrah ! did I not build this inn here for you at the very entrance of my improvements? Did not I put you and your family into it, and an't you getting money here as if you coin'd it ? Is it not a bean-garden that I've turn'd you into ; and an't you fattening in it, like a bafe ungrateful great boar, as you are ? BARLEYCORN. Great boar ! I don't underftand what your honour would be at. WHIMMY. Here, on the very day I have propriated to oblige the world of tafte and fafhion, by (bowing them my houfe, piftures, gardens, and improvements, you muft fix your damn'd twopenny poney-race, BARLEYCORN. I did it to draw company to the village. B 2 WHIMMY, 3 THE LONDON HERMIT, 0? WHIMMY. Yes, to your own paltry alehoufe, you fordid rafcal ! BARLEYCORN. Improvements !---Who'd come to view your im- provements, Sir, if they wa'n't fure of a good din- ner from me ? If they can eat marvel and drink water, they may feaft upon your improvements; but after all their eye-gluttony in your gardens, their palates are ready enough for a Scotch-collop at the Red Lion. Here, you Toby, why don't you mind the company. (Calling off.) Dang my buttons !--- Landlord Big boar -Pay his rent. [Exit muttering. WHIMMY. Here's plebeian gratitude !- Oh ! plague of the fingers that fign'd you a feven years leafe. OLD PRANKS without. No, no, HI walk up to Whimmy's Oh ! why he's here How d'ye do, Dick ?--- Found you out, eh! WHIMMY. My name is Richard.- What ! the friend of my youth, Billy Pranks. (4/ide.) Now mall I be twitted with former favours ; and I don't like that. OLD PRANKS. So, you've pick'd up the modifies in the Indies ! Pack'd up, came over.- Never look'd after me. WHIMMY. I aik'd every body after you. OLD K'AMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. OLD PRANKS. What ! I fuppofe you afk'd King Charles at Cha- ring-Crofs;--- Nobody about 'Change could tell of William Pranks, the banker, of Lombard-ftreet. - You hound, I was your friend when you hadn't an- other; but now you don't want one WHIMMY. Hound, what's the matter with you ? Wou'd you have me advertife or fend the bellman about to cry you? OLD PRANKS. You're rhoft plaguily alter'd for the worfe. Well, I've been told all about you. WHIMMY. Then, as you have heard I've hopes of a peerage, you might be a little more refpectful, Billy. OLD PRANKS. If you want to have more refpect than another man, be better than another man ; for your being call'd a lord, can neither give you a wife head or a good heart. How's your daughter? fine girl, I hear; wonder'd at it, when I thought of your phiz. WHIMMY. You are as civil as ever. OLD PRANKS. You (hall give her to my nephew, the greateft rogue in England. WHIMMY. Why there may be finer girls than my daughter, yet 1 think (he's too good for a rogue. OLD .THE LONDON HERMIT, Of OLD PRANKS. Where did you make your fortune ? WHIMMY. You know in the Indies to be fure. (Afide.) If I bad millions this fellow dill overawes me, that I'm a mere moufe before him. OLD PRANKS. I fcorn to remind you; -you owe all that fortune to me. WHIMMY, (afide.) 'Twill be long enough before I repay you. OLD PRANKS. Only think of all the good things I've done for you. Didn't I fuflfer you to write for me from fix in the morning to feven at night ; lock'd you up, and fed you upon bread and cheefe, to (harpen your in- duftry upon the grindftone of neceffity. WHIMMY. Yes; you did keep my nofe to the grindftone. OLD PRANKS. Wasn't it I got you out to Bombay in a refpe&A- ble line of a guinea-pig ? Didn't I procure the let- ters to the Governor and general officers ? Didn't I tvrite myfelf, " This young man, the bearer, is a " prudent lad, that will do ail your dirty work ?" WHIMMY. Certainly, your letter did me great honour. OLD PRANKS. Didn't you derive all your intereft from a pam- phlet RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. f phlet that I wrote, and gave you the credit of, tho* I thought 'twou'd bring the author to the pillory ? WHIMMY. I acknowledge all your goodnefs. OLD PRANKS. Then give your daughter to my nephew; they (hall have every penny I'm worth when I die. WHIMSY. Aye ; but there's danger of your living a great while, Billy. OLD PRANKS. What ! are you afraid of it, you golden calf? WHIMMY. Where is your nephew ? OLD PRANKS. Was in the Temple ; is now in the King's Bench ; he doesn't know it, but it's I that keep him there, to make him, from a dread of confinement, avoid run- ning in debt. Shan't give him two fixpences unlefs he marries your daughter. WHIMMY. Aye ; but I've promis'd her to a good young man in the neighbourhood here, who has made the tour of Europe. Ah ! Mr. Peregrine brought home tafte enough to lay out my gardens, difpole my fta~- tues, and make yon fpot the feat of virtu and ele- gance. OLD PRANKS, (afide.) Got his money like a knave, and now gives it away like a fool. WHIMMV. $ THE LONDON HERMIT, Of WHIMMY. Not half an hour fince I actually promised Mr. Peregrine that he (hou'd marry her to-morrow. OLD PRANKS. But, don't you recoiled a prior promife to me ? Didn't you engage if you ever made a fortune and had a child, my next a-kin mou'd have both ? WHIMMY. Aye ; but Peregrine will (hoot me if I break my word to "him. OLD PRANKS. Break it with me, and I'll cut your wizen. WHIMMY. Oh- dear ! I'm brought int0 this dilemma by my bad memory. Hark ye, Billy, I'll make Peregrine wait, on pretext that his conflancy mull be tried.- Yes, I'll fend him to travel again for a feven years. OLD PRANKS. Inflead of marriage, let him go to-morrow. WHIMMY. Aye ; but on his return he'll claim my promife. OLD PRANKS. Pfhaw! his back turn'd, my nephew will be here ; I've already fent for him ; Tom's a fprightly blade, monftrous wicked tho'. This the entrance to your grounds ? WHIMMY. Yes, I've tranfported, Italy into England. 2 OLD RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. < OLD PRANKS. Italy ! WHIMMY. Here you'll fee gardens. OLD PRANKS. I've a garden at Brixton Caufeway. WHIMMY. Such bananas--- OLD PRANKS. What ! do they boil better with a bit of corn'd beef than a fummer cabbage ? WHIMMY. Cabbage! My hot-houfe ! half a -dozen fuch peaches lad Chriftmas ! upon a fum up, the rearing will coft me two guineas a piece. OLD PRANKS. For whofe eating ? WHIMMY. My own, to be fure. OLD PRANKS. Old Nick jump after them ; fwallow in a minute what would have kept a whole family for a twelve- month. WHIMMY. Wer'n't they my own ? OLD PRANKS. Superfluities are not our own, whilft the poor want common neceflaries. When do you dine ? C WHIMMY. IO THE LONDON HERMIT, Of WHIMMY. Not till to-morrow, becaufe I refign my houfe and improvements to-day to the admiration of a won- dering public; but you (hall fup with me, my friend. OLD PRANKS. Thank ye. Enter BARLEYCORN. BARLEYCORN. Sir, Parfon Jack be making collections for the poor fufferers that was burnt out there at Minehead. He has fent the paper here, to put down your wor- fhip's name for a trifle. WHIMiMY. I wim Parfon Jack would mind the bufmefs of his own parim ; what have we to do with the poor of another county ? OLD PRANKS. Hark ye, Dick Whimmy, in the hour of cala- mity, the unhappy of every country are our fellow- citizens (gives money.) Put that down. BARLEYCORN. Your name, Sir ? OLD PRANKS. Never mind my name. -If I can do any good, I don't want to blow a trumpet about it. WHIMMY. Eh ! well, as it's a charity, I'll give BARLEY- RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. II BARLEYCORN. How much ? WHIMMY. I'll give them As I love to be modeft, put down plain Dick Whimmv, one pound one. BARLEYCORN. I'll give it myfelf, and dang me if your fliabby name (hall difgrace our parifh paper. [Exit. OLD PRANKS. That fellow has a foul. WHIMMY. There's a faucy villain. OLD PRANKS. Yes ; but Dick, a fordid mind links a man into contempt, though matter of millions. WHIMMY. I defire, Billy, not to hear difagreeable thin"" will you come up with me now ? OLD PRANKS. I'll throw on a fhirt. WHIMMY. Well, you'll excufe me till fupper. I muft give Tully, my gardener, his leflbn, and no hermit got yet ! Look ! I've advertifed for a man to lit drefled up as a hermit in the hermitage of my gar- dens. OLD PRANKS. Dick, have a good fupper s remember old times. C 2 WHIMMY. 12 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or WHIMiMY. Yes, I (hall never forget bread and cheefe. [Exit. OLD PRANKS. Invites every body to fee his gardens, and then the fhy churl fneak out of the way. Tell me of carvings and paintings ! I fay the bell part of a gen- tleman's honfe is his kitchen and wine cellar. Enter TOBY. TOBY. Shall your horfe have any oats, Sir ? OLD PRANKS. Yes, Sir ; but if yon pleafe, Sir, I'll fee him eat them myfelf, Sir ; for if the poor bead is cheated, he can't even fummons us to a court of confcience. [Ex. TOBY. Stand to look at a horfe eating corn ! Ecod then you muft be main fond of feeing other folks at din- ner: [Exit. Enter YOUNG PRANKS, and KITTY BARLEYCORN in a genteel travelling drefs. YOUNG PRANKS. Have you forgot any thing in the chaife, Ma'am ? KITTY. Oh dear ! yes, (Jearcloing her pockets.) Enter Pc?r BOY. BOY. You dropt this. [Exit. I KITTY. GAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. I KITTY. Qh Lord ! my book of ballads that I bought at Blandford. YOUNG PRANKS. A divine girl !---but what the devil does fhe want with a book of ballads ? (afide) Really Mifs don't you go any farther ? KITTY. Why no, Sir. Lud I hope he won't find out that my father keeps this inn here, (afde.) Sir, I wait here, and exped my friends to lend a fervant and a horfe for me. V YOUNG PRANKS. Oho ! then you're fond of riding, I prefume, Mifs ? KITTY. Oh, yes, Sir, with a pillion. YOUNG PRANKS. Oh ! behind a Heavens ! that I was the happy fervant to ride before you. KITTY, Cou'dn't expedt a gentleman like you, Sir. Dear, I'm afraid my father or Toby will come out to expoie me, (afide.} Then, Sir, you're going on to VVey mouth ? YOUNG PRANKS. Yes, Ma'am, my feet, head, body, and hands, but my foul remains at What's the name of this village, Mifs? KITTY. 14 THE LONDON HERMIT, or KITTY. - I really don't know, Sir, though I was born in it, (afide.) YOUNG PRANKS. I wonder, do we change horfes here, or get ano- ther chaife ? KITTY: I fancy, Sir, you change the carnage. Lud ! I wifli it was ready, and he'd go off, though wnen he's gone, I (hall be indeed unhappy, (ajide.) YOUNG PRANKS. Mifs, won't you take fome refrefhment ? we'd bed ftep in. Permit me the honour of accompa- KITTY. Oh dear ! then he finds out who I am, and will defpife me.-Why no, Sir -my grand papa's fervant may be now waiting, and he's a very crofs crufty grumps, if he'd fee a gentleman with me. YOUNG PRANKS. Eh ! what's going forward yonder up the hill ? a race here, I believe. KITTY. Oh ! yes, Sir, for the diver cup. Dear ! what a fine thing 'twou'd be for father to win it. Our par- lour cuftomers love to drink out of filver. YOUNG PRANKS. Cuftomers ! KITTY, RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 15 KITTY. (4/ide, and co-fifufea.} Oh, Lud ! I mean, Sir my papa likes a race. Sir, your moft obedient humble fervant. YOUNG PRANKS. Madam, (they -part with great ceremony and ten- dernefs.) (Exit Kitty into the boufe. YOUNG PRANKS. Oh, by Heavens ! {he's a cherubim ! a good for- tune, I dare fay thinks me rolling in gold. -Ah ! fhe'll be in all the fafhionable blaze of Weymouth, and fhou'd I fee her, I mud fneak out of the way with my empty pockets. Enter PEREGRINE. PEREGRINE. I was right enough 'tis Tom Pranks. YOUNG PRANKS. \yhat ! my worthy Cambridge Johnian, George Peregrine ? ah ! how d'ye do ? PEREGRINE. Ah ! but Tom, what has brought you here ? what are you on ? YOUNG PRANKS. I'm on air, fire- Are you on a viiit down here ? PEREGRINE. Vifit ! no, at home ; I've a fort of little lodge hard by, at which I (hall be very happy to fee you ; but, come, what brought you down here ? To fee Mr. Whimrny's gardens ! YOUNG l6 THE LONDON HfiRMlT, Or YOUNG PRANKS. Whimmy ! who's he ? You can't conceive what a variety of high- low jack and game, fince the morning we parted at the Shakefpeare, you in a poft-chaife for Dover. I in a phaeton for New- market, juft run a horfe at Bjandford loft---beft of the fun, I'm at this moment a priibner in the King's Bench. PEREGRINE; A prifoner in the King's Bench, and 122 miles from town ? Why, Tom, you've fkipp'd out of bounds indeed ! Come, how ? YOUNG PRANKS. Why you may fuppofe, George, that my expences far exceeded my uncle's allowance thought to help out by a lucky hit now and then, fo bought a blood mare, had her put in training, then entered for the plate at Blandford a beautiful thing the crack of the courfe but before the meeting, a few pofitive mechanical rafcals thruft me into the King's Bench muft go to Blandford though, fo procured the rules, and in hopes the turf could bring me in money enough to pay my debts, oft' I fpank'd for Dorfet- Ihire, and, fpite of informers, appeared on the courfe. The opinion feemed all in favour of my mare ; but, like a curfed green-horn, I withdrew her from the plate, and made a by-match to run her againft Lord Skelter's four-crout, to ride ourfelves but after the firft round, my infernal groom told me I carried too much weight, flung part away, came in firft ; but my Lord infifting on our being again weighed, I was too light by a pound and an half, ib that though I won, I loft the race ; two hun- dred to my Lord ;"in mort, every guinea of a full five RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. I'J five hundred that an honeft methodift preacher, my landlord in the rules, raifed to equip me for the expedition. PEREGRINE. Ah, Tom ! I thought when you and I were at Cambridge together, your {campers to Newmarket would turn to this at laft. YOUNG PRANKS. Certainly it's life, my boy. You were always a dead fag, and I was a blood. You know I never could prevail on you, even then, to make one of our toxophilite club. PEREGRINE. But where are you going now ? YOUNG PRANKS. Can you tell me ? Dem'me if I can tell j0#. Sir, I was diftrefied diftracted I PEREGRINE. Ay ! but Tom, your mare, as fhe won YOUNG PRANKS. She's gone ; fold her for five hundred went to dinner, tuck'd three bottles under my girdle hopp'd off as Ready as old time to the ailembly, laugh'd at the minuets tol Jol, (mimicks) adjourn- ed to a fnug hazard party loft every face---roll'd into the ftreet at eight in the morning -faw a car- riage at the Greyhound door -pretty girl all alone finding it was a return chaife, ftept in without knowing whither boundhad a moil delectable chat a lovely creature fingle hither we've come fhe's there I'm here (he's an angel with a great fortune I'm a dog without the price of a collar. D PEREGRINE. i B THi LONDON HERMIT, Of PEREGRINE. Ha ! ha ! ha ! WeJ] this is a moft curious detail of your adventures. Tom you hav'n't heard, per- haps, I'm going to be married to the heirefs of the Caftle yonder ? YOUNG PRANKS. Indeed ! this is your muzzing for a fellowfliip. PEREGRINE. But won't yon return to the King's Bench ? YOUNG PRANKS. No ! can't do that ; they'd never let me out again, PEREGRINE. Yes; but if you're found out here, it will be worfe : what will you do ? YOUNG PRANKS. What will I do ? Damn it, you're always putting me to the mathematics : fling by your Euclid, and you tell me what I fhall do. PEREGRINE. Ha ! ha ! ha ! the very thing for you, Tom, ha ! ha ! ha ! YOUNG PRANKS. Plague of your fneer ; what are you at ? PEREGRINE. Read that paper. YOUNG PRANKS. Paper ! what's this ? (reads an advertifement which ispofted up agamfltbefignpojl.} ft A liberal offer. A ** perfon wanted to fit drefled as a hermit in the her- 3 " mitage RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 9 " mitageof very capital gardens : on condition of his " attendance for feven years, he will be entitled to <( a gratuity of two thoufand pounds, and three hun- " dred a year for the remainder of his life. For par- t( ticulars inquire within." Eh! what's all thisabout? Hermit ! PEREGRINE. Tom, why fuppofe you apply for this, YOUNG PRANKS. Me ! what I turn hermit ? Pooh, nonfenfe ! a high go, faith. PEREGRINE. Will your uncle pay your debts ? YOUNG PRANKS. He ! I've got a hint 'twas he threw me into pri- fon. No ! never mall I touch an ounce of his. PEREGRINE. A couple of thoufands three hundred a year for life ! TOUNG PRANKS. Oh ! but how wou'd it tell among one's friends ? mine are all bloods, my dear. PEREGRINE. While you can keep pace with them in flam and expence : but drove into a corner by ficknefs or po- verty, there they leave you. YOUNG PRANKS. Three hundred a year PEREGRINE. If you think it an object, I'll anfwer for your get- tiog the fituation. i] D a YOU5 fci< THE LONDON HERMIT, Of YOUNG PRANKS. What elfe can I do ? for when I came into this village, I didn't know which way to turn my face ; back to London I cannot go ; I'll have it two thou- fand ! three hundred a year ! I'll have it. Tol, lol. PEREGRINE. No, but flop can I believe that you'd continue feven years ? he never bid me go along. WHIMMY. Stupid wife fool ! MRS. MAGGS. Ah ! the Olmondles ! that was the genteel family that knew how to treat a houfekeeper like a gentle- woman, WHIMMY.. Damn the Olmondles ! I deteft the very name ; it grates my ear like cutting of cork a teafing ninny ! you know all, won't let any body elfe know any thing, and after all know nothing at all. Mrs. Maggs, itep and bring me word. MRS. MAGGS. Certainly, Sir, I'll bring you word- (going.) WHIMMY. Of what now ? See if th young man, the her- mit that I hir'd MRS. MAGGS. Well, Sir, 1 know that. P WHIMMY. 34 THE LONDON HERMIT, OT WHIMMY, Ay ! you know that and this and after that, Mrs. Maggs, you mufl MRS. MAGGS. Well, Sir, I will, you may depend upon it. [Exit. WHIMMY. Now what will (he ! never knew one of your profefs'd, notable, clever women worth a penny in a houfe, but to fay all and do nothing. Where's my Oh ! Tully, my Irilh gard'ner ? Enter TULLY. Tully, have you placed my new hermit yet at his pod? TULLY. Ay ! faith, and he ftarted for the poft ; for as I led him thro' the paddock yonder, up he jumps upon a little horfe, and away he fcampered as if the devil was before him, round the ftfh-pond. WHIMMY. My hermit galloping round a fifli-pond ! Tully, to-morrow you may go with the other fervants to Wool Fair, but to-day you mud brufh up all your eloquence for your poft of Ciceroni to defcribe the attic urbanity of my Englim Tufculum here. But mind, Tully, I command you not to take a penny from one of the company. TULLY. A penny ! not I, Sir : but mayn't I take half-a- crown if they offer it ? WHIMMY* RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. ^ WHIM MY. No. Gentlemen (offering the public to pay their fervants wages, and turning their own houfes into a Sadlers Wells and a Royal Grove, is mean. I never paid for feeing pictures in palaces and grape vines in gardens, that I didn't blum for the d:fgrace thrown upon the dignity of the owner. Is the water party come that (lopt at the Red Lion ? TULLY. Yes, Sir. Mrs. Maggs is now mowing them the houfe. Ah ! (he told them, that the picture of Mary Magdalen was Mrs. Molly Olmondle. WHIMMY. A mod horrid TULLY. Sir, don't fret about that woman ; you know in the (howing way I'll bring up your credit with a wet finger ; Mrs. Maggs will infift that this is a py- ramid now pray, Sir, isn't it an obfticle ? I mufl go and put on my Wednefday's fine fuit of cloaths that you gave me to fhow the gardens in. What country fellow's that (talking about the walks only I'm in a hurry to drefs myfelf, or by my foul I'd knock his head againft the gateway. WHIMMY. Stop, Tully, pray remember the names and cha- racters of the feveral antiques. TULLY, I'll tell 'em of your anticks. [Exit. F 2. WHIMMY, 36 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or WHIMMY. Obfticle ! my anticks ! very ignorant this faid Matter Tully ; I muft watch how you go on with your defcription. Poor Peregrine thinks he marries my daughter to-morrow, I've fcarce the heart to kill him with the difappointment. I fhou'd like to come at the people's real opinion of my gardens and improvements. Enter a WAGGONER, (wbiftting and flaring about.) WHIMMY. Were you deiired to walk in here ? WAGGONER. Noa I 'twas my own fancy. WHIMMY. Why then it's my own fancy that you walk out again. WAGGONER. Ah! if I thought I cou'dn't do that I fliou'dn't have comd in, I can tell thee, WHIMMY. What ! keep your diftance. WAGGONER. I wool ; becaufe, at the fame time, you keep your's (4 laughing without.) WHIMMY. Oh ! the company. I wifli to hear how Mr. Tully performs his office of orator. If I could mix. amcnglt them without being known this clodpate's hat, wig, and frock, may do it you've no objec- tion to a draught of llrong beer and a ilice of beef ? WAG- GAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. ^ WAGGONER, Noa! WHIMMY. (Mimicking.} Noa ! then come with me. WAGGONER. I wool. WHIMMY, (turns to look at him.) Doo ! (mimicking.*) WAGGONER. Yez^ [Exeunt. Enter TULLY, in a fuit of tarnijhed laced cloaths and a bag wig, with a fmall white rod, in his hand, fol- lowed by BITE, Poz, APATHY, BAREBONES, and LADIES. TULLY. Hem ! my Lady, this is counted the fined place in all Ireland England I mean. BAREBONES. Pagan wanity ! SECOND LADY. What noife is this under ground ? * TULLY. My Lady, its the fuccedaneous river of blac^ Tartary ; it creeps over fticks and ftones like an eel, hops like a trout, and then jumps like a faltnon up the rocks yonder ; then it fails away fo gay into the fea like a maiden ray. BARE- 38 THE LONDON HERMIT, W BAREBONES. (Apart to Poz.) I've fpoken with the poft-chaife boy that did drive a gemman and the girl of the alehoufe to the village here, and by the defcription it's young Mr. Pranks, the man ve vants. POZ. (Apart.) The parim conftable is the waiter at the Red Lion, engage him to an eft hem ! Enter WHIMMY in a waggoner's frock, &c. WHIMMY. I don't think they can know me now I mall hear how my gard'ner performs his office, (afide.) BITE. What figure call you this ? (points to a fiatue.) TULLY. Ay ! you're a nice figure to come thruft your nofe into the company of ladies and gentlemen, (to Whimmy.) BITE. No ! I mean this. TULLY. That's Venus, the goddefs of med'cine a pretty employment I've got to throw away my roratory and knowledge to divart fuch dirty blackguards as you. (to Whimmy} this is WHIMMY. Apollo of Belvidere, (apart.) TULLY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 39 TULLY. Ay ! that's Poll the bell-weather, that run after Daphne, and was kick'd out of heaven by Jove, (I'll be free) and fo turn'd cow-boy to WHIMMY Shepherd to king Admetus, (apart.) TULLY. Ay ! they'll all meet us ; but who bid you put in your prate ? FIRST LADY. Heavens I who is that ? TULLY. That is that is, (confufed} that is, my Lady I don't know what it is myfelf, (afide) Why, your Honour, it's not a watch-box, nor it's not a wheel- barrow, nor it's not a WHIMMY. (Whifyering.) Minerva Pallas. TULLY. It's not a palace, or a cake-houfe I wifli you'd hold your gab you made me fay it was a watch- box juft now why it's marvle, it's all made of marvle. SECOND LADY. But the lady marvles who 'twas made for. TULLY, Oh ! 'twas made for my matter ; he bought it from the ftone-man. poz. 4O THE LONDON HERMIT, or POZ. Is it like r TULLY. I'm glad you like it. FIRST LADY. This I -fuppofe is TULLY. Not at all, my Lady, 'tis, 'tis WHIMMY. {Apart.) Saturn eating his child TULLY. Yes, Ma'am, 'tis the child eating citron will you hold your prate, (to Whlmmy} this, gentlemen and ladies, is BAREBONES. Idolatry ! TULLY. What is it ? Pooh ! Now had not you beft all teach me inftead of I laming you ! You fee, your Honour, he has a flute in his mouth. WHIMMY. Such a damn'd Trim plough-ploy ! TULLY. Ay ! " The Irifh plough-boy that whittled o'er " the lea," that's the man. poz. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 4! POZ. Curs'd ftout fellow this, Who is he ? ' WHIMMY. (Apart.) Hercules of Farnefe. TULLY. It's not bare knees, but big knees and big legs, that's the tir'd paver refting himfelf on his ftone paving-ftick. WHIMMY. Oh heavens ! I've fent to Italy for a fine purpofe, TULLY. But I'm talking here by word of mouth, when I might fay it all in reading, as I have it by heart from my defcribing-book now I defire you'll hold your tongues, for if you talk, you'll put me out ; jpleafe your Honour, hem \ {takes out a book ayd looks at zV) " Thefe gar" Oh ! now I go on vel- vet ; Thefe gardens, which are now the admiration of the larn'd and curim, were once a barren flat, like Salifbury Plain, till Mr. Humphry Freak Whimmy, Efq. gave forty thoufand pounds for the ould caftle and lands, turn'd the courfe of the river through them, and with Roman tafte and Britifh, magnificence--- APATHY, (Advancing.') Pray, friend, (looking at his watch) \yhat o'clock is it ? 42 THE LOKDON HERMIT, Of TULLY, (confufed.) Roman half an hour after one- two -Roman two Roman breeches hem ! breeches Britiih magnificence the river in the ould caftle ran ! round the lands. ThecuriQi of Salifbury Plain. The devil's in this man, and his what o'clock is it ? He's pur me all out jb I muft my defcribing book. (Takes out bis book) zvets his thumb, and turns over the leaves haftily, and vex'd.) Bri-tifh mag-ni-fi-ci Oh ! here it is. (Looking and reading.) Having firft travell'd to fee the ancient beauties of Italy, I-I-taly I (Looks again.) Italy, (Puts the book behind his back.) andfelefted with claffical Ah! ah! claffical Ah! damnation ! (Thrufts the book into his Docket.) Thefe gardens which are now the admiration of the larned and curifh, were once a barren flat like Salif- bury Plain, till Mr. Humphrey Freak APATHY. Oh ! my Pray, my friend, does Mr. Freak take muff? TULLY. Yes, blackguard till Humphrey Freak Whimmy, Efquire Humphrey, Efquire Salifbury Street- pooh ! the Plain larned and curifh- river upon the ould caftle land turned -aboat about FIRST LADY. Why the orator's in a hobble. TULLY. Orator Hobble oh ! the devil take I was fail- ing on like a young fwan, till this fellow comes with his muff-box. (Very quick.) Thefe gardens, which are now the admiration of the larn'd and curifti, were RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE* 43 �ereonceabarren flat like Salisbury Plain, (drops the book, jloops to pick it up) till Humphrey Freak Whimmy, Efquire, gave forty thoufand pounds for the ould caftle, (Apathy picks it Up) and lands round it. (Looks at Apathy.) APATHY, (opens and reads.) Turning to the left you wind through a moft de- licious (hrubbery. TULLY, (confufed.) Humphrey Freak a barren flat. My matter's a flat. ' APATHY. You reach the labyrinth. (Reading.) TULLY. Like Salifbury Plain. APATHY. So intricate that you're puzzled to get out. (Reading.) TULLY. I'm puzzled to get out I'm out Humphrey Whimmy- WHIMMY, Damn'd blockhead ! TULLY. Is a damn'd blockhead. ALL, Ha ! ha ! ha ! G 2 TVILY. 44 THE LONDON HERMIT, OT TULLY. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I don't wonder at your laughing at my matter's nonfenfe in laying out fo much money on the balderdafii you fee round about you here. But, ladies and gentlemen, though my mailer's a fool, you'll remember my trouble, I hope. (Stretching out his hand.} WHIMMY. Not a farthing. (Apart to him.) TULLY. Why a didn't expert any thing from fuch an ill- looking beggarly whelp as you. Will you walk out of the grounds, if you plaife, Sir? The next thing you're to fee is WHIMMY. An aviary and pheafantry. TULLY. Yes, my matter's knavery and pleafantry. Then there is King Pluto's Tartary then my matter's Ely- fian Fields then my matter's hanging wood, where my matter will hang himfelf, and then the hermitage. WHIMMY. - If the new hermit's not ready, he'll difgrace me as much as my worthy gard'ner has done. (Going.) I muft be fure. TULLY. Oh ! flop you and your farthing. Pretty man- ners to walk out before the gentlemen and ladies, that know how to pay their money. BARE- RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 4$ BAREBONES. The fpirit doth whifper^ " Ham Barebones arife, " and fpeak the word to thy deluded brethren." Bo vn, accurfed Dagon. (PuJ/jes down a ftatue and ftands upon the pedeftal.) TULLY, Why, then T fuppofe you think yourfelf a fine Roman bull. The devil's in your affurance to cock yourfelf up there ! If you plaife, you'll walk down. BAREBONES. Brethren, I vas a coal-heaver, but on the ftony cage where I now itand, I have brought you fome bifcuits, baked in the oven of charity, carefully con- farved for the chickens of the church, and the fweet fwallows of- (Afudden noife without of falling water.) TULLY. Oh ! the devil ! If what o'clock hasn't pull'd up a fluice. Half the garden will be overflowed ; and we (hall have the carp and tench dancing among the daifes. [Exeunt haftilyfeverai ways. SCENE IT. Another part of the Gardens, with the 'view of the Out fide of an Hermitage. Enter KITTY BARLEYCORN. KITTY. The race is over, and I not fee it, Since this clear gentleman is obligated to take a hermit's place, he 46 THE LONDON HERMIT, Of he can't be angry at my playing off the fine lady upon him In there he fits. (Points at the hermitage.) Enter at the fide YOUNGPRANKS in a loofe coat, with afilver cup. YOUNG PRANKS. Huzza, my girl ! the day is your's* KITTY. The gracious ! YOUNG PRANKS. Tully left me in the hermitage flipt out again--* flung off my gown, beard, and girdle had my jockey-drefs that 1 rode in at Blandford ready under it the poney I found younder; had firft try'd it though -fpank up the hill four poor jades ready to ftart a village race horfe, mare, colt, or filly I was enter'd rode myfelf won. Huzza the glorious prize is your's. (Gives her the cup.) KITTY. What a wild gentleman ! Sir, don't think little of me for the fib I told you this morning. YOUNG PRANKS. No, my fweeteft, when a man's heart is fet in 2 flame by fuch a charming girl as you, it isn't a cup' of tea that can extinguifh it. KITTY. Wou'd you have a cup of tea, Sir? la ! Sir, you hav'n't din'd. 2, YOUNG? RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 4^ YOUNG PRANKS. Oh ! yes, my dear, I did yefterday. (A/Me.) KITTY. It's Mr. Whimmy's way not to allow the hermit any dinner on the day when the company's expecled : but, ecod, you (han't faft while my father's houfe affords a dinner. (AJtde.) But, what did you come down here and turn hermit for ? YOUNG PRANKS. For love of you, my dear dying for you thefe five years. KITTY. Sure ! YOUNG PRANKS. Never faw you before this morning. (AJtde.) (Looking out.') The very Lady I danc'd with at Bland- ford aflembly ! My love, a gentleman comes yon- der with whom I muft talk politics. (KiJJes her.) KITTY. The deuce is in you for a hermit. [Exit. Enter DIAN. DIAN. I---T wifh my father, with his other changes of humour, wou'd give up this fancy of refigning the houfe thus to ftrangers; people, one don't know who, every Wednefday here come itamping and ftanng about even my dreffing-room is not my own. YOUNG 48 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or YOUNG PRANKS. My charming angel, to meet you here ! DIAN. Blefs me, Sir, you ! I hope you're very well, Sir? YOUNG PRANKS, On a vifit here ? DIAN. No, Sir, this is my father's houfe. YOUNG PRANKS. * Her father's houfe ! Oh ! here may be another crufty old grump's. And hem ! my dear, you love riding on a pillion, like Queen Elizabeth going in ftate. . \1 DIAN. Sir! YOUNG PRANKS. I mean -your parlour cuftomers like to drink out of filyer. DIAN. Parlour cuftomers ! But the unexpected honour of feeing you here ! YOUNG PRANKS. Merely for admiffion to you, my angel; I've hired as your father's hermit dying for you ever fmce we parted a fine creature but demme, if I ever thought of you fmce. (AJide.) RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 49 DIAN. I thought you then a rattler, and find I was right, but don't teafe me now with nonfenfe, for I'm really diftrefs'd. YOUNG PRANKS. Eh ! Peregrine's intended, diftrefs'd ! eh ! how ? tell me you may. Why, my dear Ma'am, I'm you don't know, perhaps, that I'm your Peregrine's mod intimate friend. DIAN. Was it, indeed, you I faw juft now arm-in-arm with him ?---Oh ! then you don't know, perhaps, that my father, after giving his fanftion to the ad- dreffes of a young gentleman in the neighbourhood, now fuddenly changes his mind, and infifts upon my marrying the nephew of fome old friend of his. Yonder's Peregrine, (looking out) he hasn't yet heard this unlucky news. [Exit baftily. YOUNG PRANKS, (wbiftks.) My friend, Peregrine's intended fpofa; I had hopes, that if he got this lady and her fortune, he might tip me a thoufand pounds, without a feven year's imprifonment in the old gentleman's hermi- tage ; but borrowing money is throwing water upon the warm heart of friendfhip. (Laughing without.) 'Sdeath, the company ! I muft now earn my an- nuity. Heh ! is that Kitty gliding through the bulhes? -a moft dear dangerous little Barleycorn this. Marriage is all out of fight, and, without it, to take all a funple young girl's innocence may beftow, would be, indeed, giving life in my bread to the worm that never dies. [Goes inte the Hermitage. H SCENE 5O THE LONDON HERMIT, 6T SCENE III. The Hermitage. Enter K i T T Y , wit Jo meat and drin k for Y o u N G P R A N K s , and knocks at the door. KITTY, (Jinging.) " Fair Ellinor came to Lord Thomas's bow'r, " And pull'd fo hard at tke ring*" Are you within, Mr. Hermit ? Enter MRS. MAGGS. MRS. MAGGS. This poor hermit musVt fit here, and have no dinner. My mafter has got fo crufty with me of late, that I'm quite weary of looking after other people's concerns; and as our young lady's to be married to- morrow, this will be no place for me. If I cou'd get a man to my mind, I'd keep houfe for myfelf, and this handfome fellow is juft to my liking. Befides, my conceited fon, Natty Maggs, is foon out of his time; he (hall have a father to thrafti him, when he gets fancy to me. KITTY. The hermit's Wedtiefday allowance is roots and cold water, but - " None fo ready as Lord Thomas, " To let fair Ellinor in." MRS. MAGGS. What are you doing here, Kitty Barleycorn ? KITTY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 5! KITTY. Lord ! Mrs. Maggs the houfekeeper ! Ma'am, I was going MRS. MAGGS. 1 know you was going. Child, do you know the danger of a young woman like you, refordng to this lonely place, where this new-come hermit fits with his books, and his fkull, and his crofs bones ? Do you know, Kitty, that this hermit may be a ram- fcallion ? KITTY. Yes, Ma'am to be fure, Ma'amThank ye, Ma'am - MRS. MAGGS, What have you got there ? KITTY. A little eatables and a little drinkables. MRS. MAGGS. For this Mr. Tom ? KITTY. Yes, Ma'am. (Curtjies.) MRS. MAGGS. Then you were now going to fee him ? KITTY. Yes, Ma'am. (Curtfies.) MRS. MAGGS. And you'd have heard ibme love nonfenD from Jiim ? H 3 KITTY, 2. THE LONDON HERMIT, Or KITTY. Yes, Ma'am. (Curtfus.) MRS. MAGGS. And you think me very impertinent for interrupt- ing you ? KITTY. Yes, Ma'am. (Curtfies.) MRS. MAGGS. Child, take example from me Do you think I'd fit there alone, to eat and drink with any ftrange hermit ? KITTY. Yes, Ma'am. (Curtfies.) Enter JOHN, with a 'Tray of covered Difies. JOHN. Mrs. Maggs, here, I've brought the dinner. MRS. MAGGS. What dinner ? --Go along ! (Apart 9 conjufed.) JOHN. Why, the roaft fowl for you and the hermit, as you ordered me. [Exit. - K i T T Y , (mimicking. ) Child, do you know the danger of a young wo- man, like you, going into this lonely place ? Do you know, Mrs. MaggSj that this herm'it may be a ram- fcallion ? Ha ! ha! ha! [Exit. 2 TFLLY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 53 TULLY, (without.) Now, if you plaife, your honour, don't walk upon the grafs beds. MRS. MAGGS. Oh ! {Steals off. SCENE IV. Injide of an Hermit age. Young Pranks difcovered in bis Hermit's Drefs at a "Table, witf> lamp, jkull, bones, large book, and jockey whip. YOUNG PRANKS. A hermit mou'd have been my lail trade. Tol de rol lol. How dev'lifli well Slinglby kick'd the tamborine. (Holds up a wooden trencher and kicks at it.) Zounds ! (Runs fuddenly and feats himfelf at a table.) Eh ! Nobody ! I with that gander, Tully, wou'd bring his flock of daring geefe, till I get down again, to play with my little larnb at the Red Lion. Old Whimmy on the other days, it feems, flints me to a bottle. Dam'me, what's two bottles to me ? how many have I won, by jumping over the table at Med- ley's ? By'r leave pair and his nob. (Puts the Jkull and bones by, is going to jump, but Jits down fuddenly.) Enter TULLY, BITE, and LADIES. TULLY. The hermitage, plaife your honour. FIRST LADY. Is this your anchorite ! TULLY. 54 THE LONDON HERMIT, or ' TULLY. My Lady, I didn't hear he was an anchor-fmith, He's old Father Anthony. YOUNG PRANKS, (repeating in a tremulous tone) Here I may fit and rightly tell Of all the ftars that Heaven doth fhew And all the herbs that fip the dew, Till old experience TULLY. Aye ! what fignifies your old experience, man, with your beard acrofs your forehead ? What the devil have you been about with your indecency ? Now, if you can but fit quiet, Tom, juft while I ex- plain you. (Apart.) YOUNG PRANKS. Tom !--- I'll break your head. (Apart.) TULLY. Will you? arrah, man, I'll break your two heads, plaife your honours. (Apart.) Enter WHIMMY, (in tie Carter's Drefs Tutty flares at him.} WHIMMY. My farcophagus defaced,- my Hercules thrown down,- -my labyrinth overflown! Now, but let's hear how Tully and my new galloping hermit go on. (Afide.) TULLY. Gentlemen and ladies, this is a hermit. Here he lives, and never ftirs out of this loneibine grotto. Hide your boots, you devil, you, (To T. Pranks. WHIMMY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. $$ WHIMMY. What ! not taken off his boots ? TULLY. What's that to you ? you've come in here too. Here he always fits at his prayers, all alone by him- felf, and nobody with him, and never fees a human foul. YOUNG PRANKS. Tedious fool ! I'll quicken him tho' with a touch of the rippers. TULLY. He's fo meek and quiet. (T. Pranks fpurs him, he jumps up.} Oh ! (Alights on Whimmfs toes.) He eats nothing but herbs. WHIMMY. And wild berries. (Apart to Tulfy.} TULLY. And goofeberries ! What, you will be putting ia your jabber. Lives on roots and fruits. BITE, (uncovers a tray.) Nice road fowl, faith ! TULLY. Man, what bewitch 'd you to fpoil my defcrip- tions ? (Apart to T. Pranks.) and drinks of the pure WHIMMY, (apart.) Purling rill. TULLY.- ^6 THE LONDON HERMIT, Of TULLY. He dosn't drink purl and gill. The hermit drinks nothing but WHIMMY, (Apart.} Mere element. TULLY. A mere elephant ! WHIMMY. (Apart.) The limpid brook. TULLY. I'll make you a limping rook, if you don't hold .your He drinks nothing but WHIMMY. (Apart.) Water. TULLY. Aye ! this hermit drinks nothing but clear rock water. BITE. I'm proud to fay, this is (takes up a bottle and drinks) dev'lilli good wine. TULLY. Wine and road chicken ! why you did it on pur- pofe. (Apart.) YOUNG PRAN 7 KS. I wifh, whoever left them, had told me. TULLY. Tho* he's a clean, well-behaved old man. AMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. *fj YOUNG PRANKS. Say gentleman, you rafcal. {Apart.') TULLY. Oh j be aify. An't you an old faint ? (Apart.) WHIMMY. Thefe two villains muttering and quarrelling ! (AJUe.) TULLY. He neither ufes napkins, nor plates, nor knives, nor forks. All his houfehold furniture is in the empty trunk of that hollow tree. That's his cup- board ; and there he keeps his wooden dim and his little pitcher; BITE. Ah ! well let's (Goes towards it.} TULLY. There ! you fee his bed is the mofs, and the herbs and the innocent fimplicities of the earth. Go, you ! (Pujhes Wkimmy, who falls on the leaves.) KITTY. Ah ! (Squalls out and difcovers herfelf under them.) FIRST LADY. So ! is this the hermit's fimplicity ? BITE. And this, I am proud to fay, is his little pitcher* (Pulling Mrs. Maggs out of the tree 'The company laugh.) YOUNG PRANKS, (afide.J A fmart dinner a pair of women ! and I fitting like a grave owl ! I Enter THE LO-N-BO-N HERMIT, Of Enter BARLEYCORN. BARLEYCORN. I've follow'd you, dang my buttons !---So you've com'd up here after this new hermit. KITTY. O father ! you're the cruel ftep-mother. (Barley- corn takes her off.) BITE. Well, this is MRS. MAGGS. Yes, Sir, I know it is as you fay. I have my rea- foris, as Mr. Oldmondle fays. [Guftfies round and exit. TULLY. Arrah ! Tom, is this like a hermit, to have Kitty aad Mrs. Maggs ? What do you (land making your fift at ? (To ft'himmy, who is threatening.) Enter APATHY. APATHY. Mr. �hat's it, has a pretty looking poney in the paddock yonder; but I'd run my brute againft it for fifty pounds. YOUNG PRANKS. Done, damme ! and I'll ride myfelf. (Suddenly flings off his hermit's gozvn, and appears in a compleat jockey drtfs.) Zounds ! I forgot bat fmce it is fo, hey ! we Itait ! the way knees tight toes in fpur RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE-. $Q fpur out-~carpet ground flow gallop crack take the lead tough at bottom, t'other horfes wind rakes hot Hack girt want a fob down ears - whifk tail up note like a pig rattle whipgive a-loofe .pufli for it, hey ! all to fortune, the way, the way. [Exit running, and cracking bis whip. TULLY. Holloa! flop, Tom; come back till I explain you out ! [Exeunt all but Whimmy. Enter PEREGRINE. PEREGRINE. Sir, here's WHIMMY, (In a rage.) Sir, cou'dn't you find any man in England to make a jeft of but me ? How dare you. Sir, intro- duce fuch a rafcal as that ? He a hermit ! PEREGRINE. Sir, I'm very forry. WHIMMY. I lay out forty thoufand pounds, and then fuch a fcoundrel to get me laugh 'd at by the world ! but, you marry no daughter of mine. A good excufe to quarrel and put Pranks's advice into practice. (AJlde.) You did collect fome valuable things to be fure, but your tafte's not confirm'd. You (hall tra- vel again; make another feven year's tour; and, by Heavens ! not till you return will I give you my daughter. PERE- CM* THE LONDON HERMIT, or PEREGRINE. Sir r fure you can't have the cruelty Sir, only WHIMMY. I'm determined, won't hear a word. �xit loftily* PEREGRINE, But, Sir! [Exit following* END OF ACT THE ACT RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE, ACT III. SCENE I. The Gartens. Enter OLD PRANKS. OLD PRANKS. TO confider on the plaguy news this puppy, my 'prentice, has brought me ; he too gaping at- Whimmy's raree (how. Natty Mags. (Calling.) Enter MAGGS. MAGGS. (Looking about.') Beats Kenfington hollow ! make a fmart Vauxhall ! -wants an orchefter caf- kade a handfome box to eat cuftards. OLD PRANKS. The Marfhal of the King's Bench MAGGS. Yes, Sir, as you defired, he gave your nephew, young Mr. Tom, the rules ; but he's run away. The Marfhal's beft refpeds, Sir, has got information he's down in thefe parts ; a man's come after him ; but he'd know if you'd have him catch'd and cag'ct up again. OLD PRANKS. A mad dog ; but like me * 3 WAGGSc ||*^: TftE LONDON HERMIT, f MAGG5. Yes, Sir a he's a fad rafcal. OLD PRANKS. What ! after all I have dorre for him ingratieudt kworfe than MAGGS. A face without cheek whifkers. OLD PRANKS. Whiikers ! MAGGS. Sir, I was only faying by the defcription, Mr. Tom rattled off from Greyhound door at Blandford for Wey mouth with a pretty girl in a poft-chaife. OLD PRANKS. Weymouth ! I'll have him Step you and fetch my horfe up from the inn, iirrah [ Stop, I'll go my- felf. [Exit. MAGGS. Fetch his horfe, ftrrah ! As Kit Cateaton fays, the time's out for firrahs and fcoundrels cracks over the fconce with canes I'm not an apprentice now, to breakfaft on cold fcrag of mutton and fmall beer retiring from table after dinner with one glafs of wine ; I'm not an apprentice now. I'll no more pu- jiifh my half ounce at the playhoufe, than 'fraid to cry up, or cut down the new piece over a pint and an oyfter, but thank the footman for letting me in, and Sneaking foniy up ftairs with my fhoes in my hand, and my hat in my pocket, to my flock bed in the attic. Your authority over me is out, and I'll let you know it too, old Bounce. -I'll let him and every body know that I am out of rnv time.- Nobody's RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE Nobody's boy ; but my own man and dem'me Til fet up for myfelf. Eh ! hey ! Enter KITTY. KITTY. For the foul of me I can't bide at home while thi3 delightful Mr. Tom the hermit is here. MAGGS. One of the family ! Servant, Ma'am, (refpeBfutty) my dear, when in town, my mode to fetch a rural faunter, crofs Holborn before breakfaft to Bagnigge Wells, cull the newfpapers* give a twiggle on the organ, and take a tiff of rum and. milk. Shall I thank your pretty good nature ? KITTY. Sir, if I had you down at our houfe, we keep the Red Lion. MAGGS. Red Lion ! How d'ye do, girl ! (familiarly iatpfo- dent) My dear, my late matter, Mr. Pranks of Lom- bard -ftreet, a friend of Mr. Whimmy's, they've agreed that young Mr. Tom Pranks KITTY. La ! I heard Mr. Peregrine call my hermit by fome'at like that name. MAGGS, I fuppofe every body knows he's to marry the &dy of this houfe. KITTY. No, Sir, it's the young lady of our houfe he's to marry ; but I don't fet up for a lady either ; though when 64 THE tONDON HERMIT, Or when drafted like, footh, all the folks here allows that fomebody would make a good fort of a lady. Aye f all except Mrs. Maggs ; but fhe's jealous and envious. MAGGS. Mrs. Maggs I who's ftie, pray ? KITTY. The Yquire's houfekeeper, MAGGS. Oh ! the devil ! true, my very honoured md- ther, her laft letter, which I never anfwered, faid, that (he was coming to live with fome old rich Eaft India Quiz in this very part of the country, (afide.*) She'll claim me as her fon ; but I'd fooner be found playing at fkettjes at the Devil and Bag o'-nails. Oh., zounds \ yon is indeed my very mamma (look- ing oufy She'll be for calling me her fon, and her dear boy Natty. But dem'me, as Kit Cateatton faysj I'm juft out of my time ; nobody's boy, but my own man. Eh t hey ' [*/"/. KITTY. Mr. Tom really a gentleman after all ? going to be married to Mifs Dian ? Ah ! that's becaufe (he has fortin. I mall break my heart. Enter YOUNG PRANKS. YOUNG PRANKS. Ah ! my cherub KITTY. Ay, Sir, now that you're going to get this great fortin by marrying TOUNG RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. , YOUNG PRANKS. Marrying who ! Mrs. Maggs ? KITTY. (Afide.) Then he hasn't yet heard and you'd really wed poor humble I ? YOUNG PRANKS. Wed! Eh! Why, my love, I -t- love you to be fure, and- we'll walk and talk together, and when tired we'll fit and reft ourfelves in the hermi- tage, my love. Tol de rollol, 1 love you fo, oh I my divine creature !~-Dillradtion !- Rofe buds !- Sun beams- -and pretty birds ! Come ; but fuch in- nocence. -I'm in a humour now- I'll not venture into the hermitage > honour and humanity forbid it. (Afide.) KITTY. Sir, fince you're fo good as to think of a poor girl like me, you fha'n't demean yourfelf for want of be- ing informed that you may have Mifs Dian and ajl her wealth. YOUNG PRANKS. 1 have Mifs Dian ? KITTY. Yes, Sir, it's agreed upon. YOUNG PRANKS; By.-Avhom ? KITTY. Mifs's papa and the old gentleman Mr. Mr. Lud now I've forgot the name again. K YOUNG 56 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or YOUNG PRANK?. (A r ide.} Can't b' my uncle ? -Was it- but drop my name may get about; and if the knabbers Ihou'd follow me- no, no, it can't be me.- How- ever, her intention is charming. Kitty kifs me, you're a lovely \ good girl and for your dif- interefted generofity in revealing a circumftance that you fuppofed might rob you of me ; for I will be vain enough to think you're a Httle partial to- wards a certain ordinary fellow, (fondling.} I owe you eternal gratitude. KITTY. (Sprightly.} Oh, then you are but my joy that you're not to have a lady and a fortune is very ill-na- tured of me* Don't you think ib ? YOUNG PRANKS. Oh ! you iweet (kijjes her hand.) Enter BARLEYCORN. BARLEYCORN. Dang my buttons, go home and fweeten the punch, and fqueeze the lemons. Come and handfell your filver cup; you're an honeft lad, I muft fay; but if you want any char with my daughter, you muft come to my houfe for it, good Matter Hermit. [Exit with Kitty. YOUNG PRANKS. Well, if a publican will keep the fignof an angel, there a faint may take his bottle, (fags) In pennance for paft folly, " A pilgrim blythe and jolly." [Exit* SCENE RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 67 SCENE II. Before BARLEYCORN'S. Enter KITTY (in high fpirits) and BARLEYCORN. BARLEYCORN. Come, now do, child, mind the bufinefs. KITTY. Oh ! I'm fo happy ! I've yet fome hopes that this dear Father, though he is a hermit, he is a gentle- man too. BARLEYCORN. Well, I'd be a gentleman if I'd nothing elfe to do. KITTY. I forgot my finging, I don't know how long, fince I've feen this fweet fellow, (finging) " A young gentleman fhe faw." Enter TOBY and JOHN GRUM/HMW tie houfi. TOBY. (Singing.} " Who belonged to the law." Meafter, I'm now conftable. Mifs Kitty, you like bache- lors of every ftation, KITTY. Dearly ! BARLEYCORN. Do you ? it's that new come Mr. Tom has brought you to this ; fo if he does marry you, let him keep you to himfelf an he can. K 2 KITTY. 68 THE LONDON HERMIT, or KITTY. (Sings.) " Being at a noble wedding, TOBY. (Sings.*) " In the famous town of Reading." (ring- ing within.) BARLEYCORN. Od dang you both, am I to be rhim'd and ballad fung, and the bufincfs of my houfe all Will you go ? KITTY. (Sings.) " If (he's rich you'll rife to fame.'" TOBY. (Sings.) " If fhe's poor you are the fame." (ring- ing within. } BARLEYCORN. "Will you go ? KITTY. (Sings.) " She was left by a good grannum." TOBY. (Sings.) " Wed me, Sir, or elfe I'll fight you." BARLEYCORN. You'll fight me ? Dang rr.y buttons I'll fight you, and knock you to the dt-vi), you idle rafcal ; I'll fing and ballad you, (beats bim^ and you, you baggage! KITTY. Father, I believe you're uncle to the Babes in the we. TOBY. YouVe the ould barbarous Blackamore. BARLEY- RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 69 BARLEYCORN. I'll (makes a blow at Toby) Get in you jade, (puts ber in, and exit.) TOBY. Oh ! Jahn Grum, here be the mon that fent for us. Enter BAREBONES. BAREBONES. According to Lawyer Poz's advice, I'll have young Mufter Pranks apprehended. You be's a iinner and a publican. TOBY. I'm no fmner, and only farvant to the publican. Eh Jahn, I'm a bit'n a parifh conftable though, 'twas faid you wanted to attach fom'en, wa'n't it Jahn? JOHN. Hum! BAREBONES. I does. Seize him ; he run'd out of prifon, Tho- mas Pranks is the man. TOBY. Oh ! Thomas Pranks's man. BAREBONES. I thought him a farvant of grace. TOBY. Oh, he thought him a farvant Out of place, d'ye fee, Jahn. JOHN. Hum! BARE- 7O THE LONDON HERMIT, OT BAREBONES. I followed the chap with this here varrant, I be's coom'd from Babylon after him. TOBY. Babylon ! oh, that mun be in Barkfhire. BAREBONES. Great London itfelf. Thou fcem'fl ftrong in flefh, is the fpirit with thee ? TOBY. Don't vally the devil his felf, when I'm doing my duty, no more does my affiftant, Jahn Grum, doey ? JOHN. Hum! BAREBONES. There bee's defcription of his parfon, (gives paper.) TOBY. Meafter Barleycorn would know if you'll eat dinner at Red Lion. You may bring company, for we've entertainment ror mon and beait An't we Jahn ? JOHN. Hum! BAREBONES. Get a good dinner for me, for I loves to eat and drink of the beft. TOBY. You're a genteel mon (apart to Join) Jahn, he'll be as drunk as a tinker, then I comes chalk double on him. Eh, Jahn ! JOHN, RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. ?I JOHN. Hum! ITOBY. Oh ! the Squire, (looking out.) WHIMMY. (IPithout.) Where did he run (Enters) Oh, you are the canting bawler that broke down one of my fta- tues, (to Barebones.) BAREBONES. I had an inward call. WHIMMY. Curfe your call ! BAREBONES. He does put it in mine head, with the fame act, to comfort my flelh and do a good vork, I vill get myfelf an appetite fore dinner with difbolifhing this man's idols in his groves and high places. [Exit. WHIMMY. If you are ftill a conflable, why didn't you take that dangerous leveller into cuftody ? TOBY. I munna, he be the planter, and walks at large where he lift ; but I'm going to catch the defender, and I'll bring his body and foul before your worfhip, in fafararo. Come, Jahn ! JOHN. Hum ! [Exeunt. 72 THE LONDON HERMIT, Of WHIMMY. This prancing hermit has fo deranged and jumbled all my fchemes of elegant magnificence-- -No atten- tion to my old friend Pranks ; my daughter not yet prepared to receive his nephew the final difrniffion not yet given to Peregrine- Lucky that the reft of my houfehold is in train, that all my fervants are fo- ber and regular. An't this my fine Irifh orator ? {Retires.} Enter TULLY (with a mug In kis hand.) TULLY. Upon my foul this hermit is no better than a bad man, that he can't (lay there at his bufinefs, where he has nothing to do but fit quiet---Oh fie, to come here drinking in a public houfe ! (Drinks.) Enter CAC HMAN. WHIMMY. And my coachman I- COACHMAN. Ah ! Mailer Tully, I favv you go out at tfie gate, and fo out of pure good nature I followed you, to give you a little hint, that if Mailer hears you left the gar- dens to-day, you may chance to lofe your place ; be- fides, coming here to booze is not quite the thing. (Drinks.) WHIMMY. My daughter's footman too ! Enter SKIP. SKIP. Eh, waiter ! Enter RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 73 Enter BARLEYCORN (with a mug.) The negus I ordered, a gill of wine, fome water, fu- gar, and a lemon. BARLEYCORN. Why, for wine, I takes out the licence to-morrow ; the man is to call next Wednefday with the lemons ; my daughter Kitty has loft the key of the fugar- cheft ; nobody drinks water at Red Lion, fo I have brought you a mug of ale. [Exit* WHIMMY. (Advancing.} Hey ! you Icoundrels, what are you at here with your mugs ? SKIP. Sir, I came to look for coachman, COACHMAN. And I came to bid the gard'ner drive home. TULLY. And, Sir, I came after the hermit, becaufe he same before me. WHIMMY. You mofl ftupid TULLY. Stop, Sir, what fort of talk is that, I'm ftupid ? faith, and that's a facret, Sir, Sir Ifaac Newton never found out. Sir, I'm a gard'ner, and though I do dig, I'm not a fpalpeen potatoe-boy -I've read big books of botamy, and the Millar's Dictionary and Cyclopaddy's. Didn't I graft a mayduke uppon a kackagay apple-tree then in my hot-houte. Didn't my Lord (when he breakfafted with you) pull from the fame tree a cannifter of Hyfon tea and a bafket of Seville oranges ? A'n't my flowers fo fweet that che hives round the country are empty, and the fwarms of L .bees 74 THE LONDON HERMIT, Of bees come in a grand congregation into your gardens, humming every body with their bagpipes, fo difcieet all in their black bonnets and their yellow velvet breeches ? WHIMMY. Men ! rafcals ! I wifh I could, like the Great Mo- gul, be attended only by women. Ay, one comfort, my female fervants are diligent and fober. TULLY. Faith, Sir, and here's the head of your female lervants coming in very fober here ; but how fhe'll get out, for I don't think her bufmefs here is to drink tea. MRS. MAGGS. (Without.'} I will find him. (Enters.) WHIMMY. Mrs. Maggs, did you want me or my coachman ? MRS. MAGGS. No, Sir, it was the hermit brought me here. WHIMMY. Why, I think MRS. MAGGS. Yes, Sir, I know you think. WHIMMY. 'Twas the hermit brought us all here. MRS. MAGGS. He's come after Kitty and my love for him is TULLY. He's a ramping devil. YOUNG PRANKS (without .) (Singing.) " With cockle fhell on hat brim." TULLY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 7$ TULLY. There he hops over the bufh like a jackdaw, WHIMMY. Stop him ! [Exeunt all but TVbimmy and Mrs Maggs. What vexations ' Now, my dear Mrs. Maggs, I've found out that Tully is a worthlefs man, my whole dependence of fhewing my fine place is upon you. MRS. MAGGS. Now that is fo like Mr. Olmondle. [Exit Wlnmmy hajtily. Blefs me ! here comes this moft delightful young man. 1 proteft his very approach brings all my blood up in my face, my heart throbs, and my limbs I'm fuch a poor creature fo faint I muft fit, (goes into a porch at the door.) Enter YOUNG PRANKS. YOUNG PRANKS. Come out there, you moft delicate lovelinefs, my darling rofe bud. MRS, MAGGS. (Rifes and appears.} Oh, dear Sir (Jtmpenng.) YOUNG PRANKS. By the lord, this is my little pitcher again. KITTY. (Unfeen, ivhips out of the door, and taps him on the Jhoulder.) Mr. Thomas ! MRS. MAGGS. A'n't you afhamed of yourfelf, Kitty Barleycorn ? L 2 YOUN 76 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or YOUNG PRANKS. Come, my dear creatures, you muftn't- MRS. MAGGS. Well, I know we muftn't YOUNG PRANKS. What, Ma'an\ ? Don't quarrel about me, zounds ,- I'm like a ftately peacock between a pheafant and a turkey hen. KITTY. La ! you're fo wild MRS. MAGGS. But he's very merry, he ! he ! he ! YOUNG PRANKS. Wild ! merry ! my whole life has, been one frolic. MRS. MAGGS. Ay, I dare fay, when you were a boy YOUNG PRANKS. Such diverfions ! altering the numbers cf doors to puzzle the poftman, at Chriftmas in a tlage coach charging the directions of geefe, hares, and turkeys, with a bit of chalk and charcoal making a whole room of family portraits fquint down upon every body. MRS. MAGGS. I vow you muft not come and fee our pictures. KITTY. La ! he's fo pleafant ! Well, and ah, Mr. Tom ! YOUNG RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 77 YOUNG PRANKS. My fweet creature, I came to hanfel the filver jcup. Hey ! a bortle of port and a roafted orange ! JLadies, 1 vow on the honour of a hermit, I'll treat you with a bifhop. �xlt into bgufe. KITTY, Toby ! (calling.) Enter OLD PRANKS. OLD PRANKS. Eh ! where's this young dog my prentice, bad as my mad nephew. Waiter ! my horfe. MRS. MAGGS. Sir, you'll return to fup at our houfe. OLD PRANKS. Foolifh Dick Whimmy to have no dinner ! plague of his gardens, in his ponds plenty of carp and tench, that nobody dare fling into a frying-pan ; on his green Hopes, neither grafs lamb nor afparagus, and for flocks of geefe and chickens, there a pea- cock ftruts, or an eagle perches, that inilead of any body eating him, by the Lord, looks as if he'd eat us. My dear, I'm going to Weymouth, cou'dn'c you give one a {hack. KITTY. Oh ! our bill of fare, Sir, (going.) OLD PRANKS. (Slops her.) As fine a bill of fare as e'er I look'i on, (gazing) what dim (hall I choofe a white fort- head, a brace of black eyes, garnim'd with long auburn 78 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or auburn eye-lames, two rofy cheeks, cherry lips, my defert. KITTY. A pity, Mr. Thomas, to difguife his fine hair and delightful (hape, in that long old beard and gown. La ! Sir, what a choice hermit you'd make for Mr. Whimmy ; you'd be a nice bald-headed bucl^, as Tom fays. OLD PRANKS. I a bald-headed buck ! don't you fee I wear my own hair, child ? Re-enter YOUNG PRANKS. YOUNG PRANKS. I've brew'd the bimop. Eh ! what old fellow fo fmooth with Kitty -Sir, a word if you pleafe, (twitches of Old Pranks' s a joig) Zounds, my uncle ! (runs off.) OLD PRANKS. Stop that fcoundrel, (runs after him.") [Bell rings violently, Kitty runs into the koufc. Enter MAGGS walking hajlily. MRS. MAGGS. Oh, Heavens ! my fon Natty ! MAGGS. Mamma ! (he has me, but I won't be difgrac'd, (afide, and turns.) MRS. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 79 MRS. MAGGS. My dear child, who could think of feeing you down here, (he turns from her, and walks.} MAGGS. Any bufinefs with me, Ma'am ? MRS. MAGGS. Why, my dear ! Don't you know me, Natty ? MAGGS. Zounds, Ma'am, don't Natty me ! MRS. MAGGS. Won't you fpeak to your mother ? MAGGS. Who are you talking to, Ma'am ? MRS. MAGGS. Look at me- my own child deny me, (puts her handkerchief to her eyes, and walks up.) Enter TOBY and JOHN GRUM. TOBY. John, is that the young man you faw ? JOHN. Hum! MAGGS. (Looking at his watch.) I mail be late with my party, (going.) MRS. MAGGS, Stay, my dear boy ! MAGGS. *0 THE LONBON HERMIT, or MAGGS. I'm nobody's boy, but my own man, he ! he f TOBY. Seize him, (to John) Your name ? (to Maggs.) MAGGS. What of it ? TOBY What is it > MAGGS. What it was yefterday, and will be to-morrow. TOBY. Mind how he muffles ; do ye fee it, John ? Tel-l me your name to-morrow, (to Maggs.) MAGGS. Mufn't, becaufe of mamma, (afide.] TOBY. You belong to Mr. Pranks. MAGGS. Suppofmg fo. TOBY. Then I fuppofe you're my prifoner, MAGGS. Me ! for what ! TOBY. You broke out of jail in Babylon, but we'll hand- cuff and fend you to Dorchefter. I MAGGS, RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. l MAGGS. (Afide.) Handcuff! Broke jail in Babylon ! Ay! �hy furely they take me for Tom Pranks ! I'm not the perfon you want. TOBY. I arrefl you. MAGGS. I'm not the man indeed, my friend. TOBY. Who anfwers for you ? who knows you ? MAGGS. Then I muft own mother let me go, this gen- tlewoman here is my honour'd mamma. MRS. MAGGS. (Ajide.) A wicked wretch, firft to deny, and now to own me in his diilrefs ! TOBY. Mrs. Maggs, be he your fon ? MRS. MAGGS. Oh ! no, he's no fon of mine. MAGGS. Nay, my dear mamma. MRS. MAGGS. Sir, don't mamma me; who are you talking to? {mimicking. ) MAGGS. Ay ! why fure, fweet mamma ! M TOBY. 82 THE LONDON HERMIT, Of TOBY. Stop ; you fee, my friend, it won't pafs. John, look he don't run away, while I read difcription of his parfon, (takes out paper and reads] five feet eight inches tall, an expreflive eye, pleafing features, good complexion, fine teeth, mew your tee'h, (t& Maggs) ^ handfome countenance- MAGGS. J Pon my foul this defcription's very much like me tho'. TOBY. Well-made, a genteel deportment; upon the whole, an elegant figure. MAGGS. Amazing ! what a piclure of me ! MRS. MAGGS. Aftoniming like the child indeed. TOBY. You fee it's you. MAGGS. No, it's fuch another handfome fellow, but really not me. TOBY. Come, I arreft you with a little tap, (trips up his beds} hold his legs, Jahn, that he mayn't kick 1. MAGGS. Damn'd uncivil this ! , MRS. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 83 MRS. MAGGS. I can't bear to fee him treated fo let the child go, you fellows ! TOBY. Yes, the child (hall go---to prifon. MRS. MAGGS. You're wrong, he's my fon. TOEY. And juft now you faid Ay, I fee how 'tis, Meafter Butler told me that Mrs. Maggs locks her- felf in her own room, and there drinks the pre- farved apricocks Jahn don't mind, Madam Maggs is fo fond of talking (he'll fay anv thing bring him along. MAGGS. Sir, gentlemen conftables ! mamma ! kind conn- try juftices ! mother ! (Toby holding him by the head, and John by the legs, they drag him off.) MRS. MAGGS. Why, you horrid villains, you mail not ! my child ! [Exit after them. SCENE III. The Gardens. Statues thrown down, and broken fragments lying about ; /hrubs and plants, as pulled up. Enter BARE BONES, (with a broken flatus.) BAREBONES. I vill complete the good work ; lay there ac- curfed, (throws it down on a heap~) and I vill pulls M 2, UP $4 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or tip thy groves, and I vill root thee out of the land, (pulls plants out of pots, and flings them about.') Enter BARLEYCORN. BARLEYCORN. Sir, your dinner's waiting. (AJide) Dang my buttons! here's a fine kick-up ! what rafcal cou'd have got in here fome one that owes the Tquire a grudge. BAREBONES. I've been doing of the job, 'twas all pagan wanity. BARLEYCORN. So it was, Sir, and you were right to capfize it. Enter KITTY. KITTY. Oh ! father, I (hall go diftrafted ; I'm {lire it's my belov'd Tom that they're taking pris'ner to Dor- chefter, yet fo cruel not to let me fee him. Enter TOBY. TOBY. I've left the prifoner in fafe cuftody with Jahn Gram. BAREBONES. (d/ide.) Then I brings him up to town, and lodges him with the Marmal. KITTY. Oh heaven ! tell me, Toby, is it the hermit ? TOBY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. jJ TOBY. No. KITTY. It is he. TOBY. 'Tis not tho' why you're as bad as Mrs. Maggs, who juft now faid he was her fon, and he wasn't her (on there's difcription of his perfon, (gives Kitty a a paper.) KITTY. {Reading with emotion.) Handfome, elegant, fine teeth, expreffive eye 'tis he ! you liard -hearted creature but I'll releafe my own true love, tho' I beg my bread for it. [Exit hajlily. TOBY. Ay now, me too has been drinking apricocks. Be's I to lay the cloth for you in the two-bedded room, (to Bareboms.) BAREBONES. I loves to eat in a parlour. BARLEYCORN. Why we wilh to refarve that for TOBY. Parlour ! than, Sir, (han't I tap no vind he v/on't inform (to Barleycorn.) BAREBONES. I drinks vind, for I thirds after the good things of this world. BARLEYCORN. That's right. 2 TOBY. 86 THE LONDON HERMIT, Or TOBY. He's a wet Chriftian. BARLEYCORN. Shall they take up dinner ? BAREBONES. Yes, I hungers after good ; I could munch one rnorcil of Portlin mutton ; yea, one pound and an half, and fix, and four, and two wheat ears, roaftcd in wine leaves, and other fettries of niceifh faver. [*/'/ with Toby. BARLEYCORN. {Locking out.) The 'fquire dang my buttons, here'll be work. [*;'/. Enter WHIMMY, (looks at the broken Statues with amazement.) WHIMMY. Fury and diftra&ion ! what's all here ! Tully J (calls.) Enter TULLY, (a little intoxicated.) TULLY. (Singing.) tf They!d be like the Highlanders eating of kail, " And curfing the Union, fays Granawaile." WHIMMY. This, is your going to th'e alehoufe, here's your brags, here's yellow- breech'd bees humming their bag-pipes but I'll turn over a new leaf, I'll dig and root out TULLY. Arrah, Sir, I wifh you'd let the leaves and the trees alone ! you've been digging and rooting pret- tily : RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 8 tily : what put it into your head to pull up the plants in this manner ? WHIMMY. My head, there's my dancing Faunus. TULLY. Oh ! I fee how this is ; you want to keep me only as your (how-man, and take the head gard'ning into your own hands- the geranums all torn, the myrtles, and liliies, and laylocks, are all pull'd abouc as if they were old bean ftalks. WHIMMY. You rafcal ! what do you talk of your paltry plants look at my flames, none equal to them in the Barbarini gallery. TULLY. The barber's gallery ! Only tell a body what you intend to put clown in the place if yourfelf was planted, the devil a thing would grow out of your head but potatoe apples. WHIMMY. Two of my Seafons TULLY. You don't know the feafons ; you're a gentleman, and you've money to buy roots and fruits, but I tell you, you don't know an annual from an ever- green. I got myfelf finely laughed at to-day by mowing your kickmaws, but I warn my hands out of it. There's your defcribing book (throws book down] and you miy get another Ciceroni magpye to chatter to the company. [Exit, WHIMMY. 88 THE LONDON HERMIT, OT WHIMMY. There's a villain ! Enter OLD PRANKS. OLD PRANKS. Knock people's hats off can't think who the fel- low was ! Dick, I'm on the fpur to fetch my nephew from Weymouth ; an idle fcoundrei ! what perplexities he has involved me in ! Dolts to ap- prehend Natty Maggs for him ; thefe country con- ftables are fo obftinate, won't even take my word : but what fort of wild people have you fettled amongft here that pull folks heads about ? WHIMMY. Yes, heads, legs, and arms, look ! (points to tb? Jtatues.) OLD PRANKS. (Looking round.) Ha ! ha ! ha ! a good deed, however. WHIMMY. What, to demolim my beauties ? OLD PRANKS. Your modern gardens are art fpoiling nature; fixing up a ftone woman where one expeds to find a rofy girl of health, flelh, and blood : if we muft have ftatues, inftead of importing ancient heathen gods into Enghfh meadows, why not encourage Briti(h arts to celebrate Britifh heroes ? for a Jupiter by Phidias give me an Elliot by a Bacon : the five thoufand pounds you laid ouc upon that clumfy Pantheon yonder, wou'd have built a neat clutter of alms-houfes, where age and infancy might find an afylum from the pangs of indigence. WHIMMY. RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 89 WHIMMY. Why, but Billy * OLD PRANKS. 'Sblood, when I reflect I owe my prefent inde- pendence to my education in the Blue Coat School, as I drive my whifky on a Sunday by Dulwich Col- lege, I feel more warmth of affe&ion for the me- mory of Edward the king, or Alleyn the player, , than for all the travelling cognofcenti in Chriften- dom. Dick, I love reafon. Enter YOUNG PRANKS. YOUNG PRANKS. A rare chace, but I got from him zounds ! (fees Old Pranks, runs off.} OLD PRANKS. Oh, damme, I'll have you, (purfues.) t WHIMMY. He likes reafori, and the fellow's mad ; there he runs after my hermit. Certainly 'twas this favage old Goth committed thefe barbarifms I hope he'll not find his nephew ; however, I muft prepare my daughter for the marriage. {Exit. SCENE III. Infide of Hermitage. YOUNG PRANKS fitting in his Hermit's Drefs, as if put on baftily. Enter OLD PRANKS. OLD PRANKS. (Looking about.} I thought I had a glimpfe of him darting this way Eh ! one of Whimmy's toys N . 9 o '(feeing Young Pranks} Father Dominick feen a fcoundrel run in here Do ye hear ! can you ipeak ! it was certainly my nephew ; a hound ! fkulking about, and fuffer a poor innocent man to be taken up for him ; to be handcuff'd, haul'd, and dragg'd YOUNG PRANKS. An innocent man fuffer for me ! (throws off his lermtfs drefs.) OLD PRANKS. You ! Oh you villain ! How dare you borrow money about as you have done ! YOUNG PRANKS. Sir, (confufed) I I borrow 'd money to get out f debt. OLD PRANKS. Eh ! how ? YOUNG PRANKS. Yes, Sir, to pay my debts. OLD PRANKS. But why get in debt ? YOUNG PRANKS. All owing to my good principle, the people wou'd truft me, my character was fo excellent. OLD PRANKS. Then from your excellent character they think you a. damn'd rogue you villain ! YOUNG PRANKS. Dear Sir, difcriminate between vice and folly ; you are the only one I ever wroog'd, my fecond parent, RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 9! parent, my friend, my benefaclor. Sooner than let this perfon you fpoke of juft now any longer bear the difgrace that I only deferve, I'll inftantly free him by delivering myfelf up to hopelefs imprifon- rrient, (going.} OLD PRANKS. Eh ! flop you rogue you, confider how terrible a prifon is. YOUNG PRANKS. Lord, Sir, no ! the only difference between the people walking by and I is, that they're on one fide of the door and I'm on t'other. A prifon ! to refign myfelf to it, now, is barely performing the duties of honefty. [Exit. OLD PRANKS. Surrenders to free the guiklefs ! Not fq bad as I thought hirn. Enter KITTY. KITTY. Sir, I've been told, fince you're a banker gen- tleman in Lombard-ftreet, London, you bankers, Sir, have always a great deal of money. OLD PRANKS. (AJldt.) Pve heard of petticoat pads a piftol may come out here ! Well, my dear, granting I have money, do you want any ? KITTY. Not myfelf, Sir; there's a young gentleman is taken up for debt, Sir; 1 fhought it a pity he mould go to prifon, as he got out of it before, and N 2 that, 92 THE LONDON HERMIT, OY that, you know, Sir, is a fign he doesn't like it ; hard for a perfon to go \Vhere they can't be happy. OLD PRANKS. Upon my word this young lady reafons exceeding pretty Well, Mifs ? KITTY. And Sir, my aunt by mother's fide, has left me three hundred pounds independent of my father, here are the papers, Sir, all about it, Sir, if you'd be fo kind as to advance the money, and tranfacl: the bufinefs of releafing the young gentleman with it, I'd be very much obliged to you, Sir, (curtjies.) OLD PRANKS. Here's a charming girl ! And fo, my dear, you think Natty Maggs fo fine a fellow, that you give up all your fortune to releafe him. KITTY. Natty Maggs ! No, Sir, our 'fquire's hermit. OLD PRANKS. Hermit ! She muft mean my wild nephew, (over- joyed.} KITTY. Sir, keep the papers, I know you'll free him ; you look fo good-natured, I befeech you, Sir, Sir, [curtjies and exit. OLD PRANKS. Tol lol lol, (Jings.} The heart of an amiable woman is the' true touc^ftone of manly merit. This good and delicate creature loves my nephew, and he muft be a worthy lad. The girl, no matter for her RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 93 Jier fituation, is come of a good flock, and fhould be r:;nfplanted. I didn't, till ,no.v, know my nt-phew --I'll forgive, i J eive him all---Go to the King's Bench again ! that he (han't, while I've a gui- nea to keep him out of it, tol lol loi, [Sings and exit^ SCENE IV. A Gallery In V/limmfs Houfe. Enter YOUNG PRANKS (baftily Doffing) and PERE- GRINE meeting, (much cgitated.} PEREGRINE. Stop, Tom, whither now ? YOUNG PRANKS To the King's Bench what's the matter ? Oh, true, Mifs Dian told me upon ny foul her father ufes you both very ill who is this vhelp he is going to give her to ? PEREGRINE. I don't know ; Mr. Whimmy has never even fee'n him. YOUNG PRANKS. No ! An uncle, isn't it that's briging this about? I've a good unclebut Jong befoe he'd think of providing me with an heirefs -bt then I've been fuch a curfed fellow. PEREGRINE, One chance, this fpark may, as is a forced thing, be indifferent, and the old gentleran doats io upon his 94 THE LONDON HERMIT, Of his daughter, that were an emperor to flight her, 'twou'd for ever lofe his favour. YOUNG PRANKS. What's this uncle's name ? who, where, what is he? PEREGRINE. I know nothing about him. YOUNG PRANKS. Nor old Whimmy neither. PEREGRINE. I've never feen him, I told you. YOUNG PRANKS. Then I'll perfonate him, and I warrant you dif- gutf the old gentlman fufficiently to make him break off the match ; then, Peregrine, is your harveft. I'll be with you h a trice. Never be difmay'd, Pe- regrine, when ytu admit me as a fchemer into your cabinet; for I hive turn'd my coat fo oicen fince I arriv'd in thefe prts, that there is no doubt of my being a mod finfaed politician. [Exit. Enter WEIMMY and DIAN, weeping. In vain talkng, child; 7! muft keep my firft promife. DIAN. But, dear Sii will you fentence your child to mifery ? PERE- RABBLES IN DORSETSHIRE. 9jJ PEREGRINE. Sir, you encourag'd me with a certainty that I ihou'd be the happieft of men, and now in a mo- ment, to match me from Heaven, and plunge me into an abyfs of defpair. WHIMMY. Can't help it, Dian; I mud give you to my friend's nephew. Enter SKIP. SKIP. Sir, here's a young gentleman will fee you feems in a piteous taking. Here's my mafter, Sir. (Calling off.) YOUNG PRANKS, difguifed like a boy> his hair pulled round his face, &c. YOUNG PRANKS, (crying.) Oh ! I will not have her. WHIMMY. Ah ! who are you ? PEREGRINE. Certainly Tom Pranks. (To Dian.) WHIMMY. What do you want ? YOUNG PRANKS. I don'c want a wife. (Roars out crying.) WHIMMY, THE LONDON HERMIT Of WHIMMY. Who the devil cares, whether you do or no- have you any bufmefs ? YOUNG PRANKS. No ; I'm a gentleman. My uncle fays I muft marry your daughter ; but I won't. (Roaring out.) WHIMMY. Ah ! can this be the wild rogue I've heard fo much of? why, your uncle told me you were an- other-guefs being. Dian, this is your hufband. - How do you like him ? DIAN, (apart to Peregrine.) I fee this. Sir, if Mr. Peregrine can pardon me, fince you've fet your heart on't, I'm refign'd to your will, with the dutiful obedience of a daughter. (Curtfies.) WHIMMY. Now, that's very lucky. Peregrine, you fee PEREGRINE. Then, Sir, fince the lady is fo very fickle, I re- fign her with little regret. WHIMMY. Ah ! this is all very well ; then we'll call your uncle ; Parfon Jack is in the next room, and you fliall be married immediately. YOUNG PRANKS. But I won't marry, oh ! (cries) I.'ll never fay, father-in-law, to fuch an ugly old fellow as you. WHIMMY, RAMBLES IN DORSETSHIRE, }J WHIMMY. Why, you damn'd impudent young fcoundrel, dare you affront me, and refufe my daughter ? then let your uncle do his worth. There, Peregrine, take Dian, and may I be curs'd if ever I again attempt to part you. PEREGRINE. You'll alter your mind again, Sir. WHIMMY. I'll put that out of my power go, Doctor, (vailing off) tack that couple together inftantly. (Puts Dian and Peregrine of.) Enter OLD PRANKS. YOUNG PRANKS. My uncle ! oh ! zounds ! WHIMMY. Billy, what bouncing you've kept about this ne- phew of your's. He, a buck, and a blood ! a blubbering milkfop. OLD PRANKS. My Tom a milkfop ! I fay he's a buck. WHIMMY. 1 fay he's an afs. (Wrangling^ T. Pranks cries out.) WHIMMY. There's the buck ! a taftelefs hound, has been abufmg me here, and refufed my daughter. O YOVNG $ THE LONDON- HERMIT, fT YOUNG PRANKS. Oh ! the devil ! am I really the character I only pcrfonated. (Afide.) OLD PRANKS. Where is he ? WHIMMY. Can't you fee ? thrafh him for his impudence t me. OLD PRANKS. Why, ah, Tom! YOUNG PRANKS. Aye, poor Tom ! (Snivelling.) WHIMMY. By the Lord, it's my galloping hermit ! (furprifd) and your nephew. YOUNG PRANKS. (70 Old Prank s.) Sir, I now fee your goodnefs ; but had I even be- fore known it, I cou'd not have enjoy'd the bleffing you defign'd for me, at the expence of a friend's happinefs. Mr. Peregrine has love and merit. I admire, but don't deferve the lady. OLD PRANKS. Then, fince you're fo difmterefted as to decline the- golden pippin, I'll give you a fweet wild draw berry. Enter KITTY. KITTY. O Mr. Banker, have you 'tis he (looking at Young Prattks witty j. the Theatre Roya\ Kv.market. Price is. \LL IN GOOD HUMOUR, a rramatic Piece, - Theatre Royal, Haymarkst. Price is. The ENCHANTED \VOOD, a Legendary Dr; ^RvISpEARE's All's Well that ends V . P. KEMBLt, as performed at t . Pries I3.6d. JAGDAD. ie Theatre . by THO. icd.at the y Thomas the K irdibn, Eiq. . Hon. Gen. P. Kemble, I Hon. -, Comediei -el dt e is. i by S i P. "Kemble, . of M. Se- as performed ma, i: UC SCH/THERN REGIONAL Ml II II I ' Univ< Sc 115 116