Wild Oats Part 18

_Sir Geo._ Why, I've only one objection to fighting you.

_Rover._ What's that, sir?

_Sir Geo._ That you're too brave a lad to be killed.

_Rover._ Brave! No, sir; at present I wear the stigma of a coward.

_Sir Geo._ Zounds! I like a bit of fighting--hav'n't had a morsel a long time--don't know when I've smelt gunpowder--but to bring down a woodc.o.c.k.

_Rover._ Take your ground.

_Sir Geo._ But what are we to do for weapons?

_Rover._ Here are weapons.

_Sir Geo._ Well, this is bold work, for a privateer to give battle to a king's s.h.i.+p.

_Rover._ Try your charge, sir, and take your ground.

_Sir Geo._ I would not wish to sink, burn, or destroy, what I think was built for good service; but, damme, if I don't wing you, to teach you better manners.

_Enter the three_ RUFFIANS, _not perceiving_ ROVER.

_3d Ruff._ Ay, here's the honest fellow has brought us some cash.

[_Looking at_ SIR GEORGE.

_2d Ruff._ We're betrayed, it's the very gentleman, that's in pursuit of us, and this promise was only a decoy to throw us into his power--The pistol!

[_Apart, and pointing to it._ SIR GEORGE _ramming the charge_.

[_2d_ RUFFIAN _seizes and wrenches the piece from_ SIR GEORGE.

_Sir Geor._ Ah, boys!

_2d Ruff._ You'd have our lives, now we'll have yours.

[_Presents the piece at_ SIR GEORGE; ROVER _advances quick, and knocks it out of his hand_.

[_They run off._

_Rover._ Rascals! [_Pursues them._

_Sir Geor._ [_Takes up the other piece._] My brave lad! I'll--[_Going._

_Enter_ JOHN DORY.

_John._ No, you shan't. [_Holding him._

_Sir Geor._ The rogues will--

_John._ Never mind the rogues--

[_Noise of fighting without, a piece let off._

_Sir Geor._ S'blood! Must I see my preserver perish. [_Struggling._

_John._ Well, I know I'm your preserver, and I will perish, but I'll bring you out of harm's way. [_Still holding him._

_Sir Geor._ Though he'd fight me himself--

_John._ Sure we all know you'd fight the devil.

_Sir Geor._ He saved my life.

_John._ I'll save your life [_Whips him up in his arms._] So hey! haul up, my n.o.ble little crab walk! [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_A Room in_ BANKS'S _Cottage_.

_Enter_ FARMER GAMMON, BANKS, _and_ SIM.--SIM _writing, and crying_.

_F. Gam._ Boy, go on with the inventory.

_Sim._ How unlucky! Feyther to lay hold of me when I wanted to practise my part. [_Aside._

_Banks._ This proceeding is very severe, to lay an execution on my wretched trifling goods when I thought--

_F. Gam._ Ay, you know you've gone up to the big house with your complaint--her ladys.h.i.+p's steward, to be sure, has made me give back your cottage and farm; but your goods I seize for my rent.

_Banks._ Only leave me a very few necessaries--by the goodness of my neighbours, I may soon redeem what the law has put into your hands.

_F. Gam._ The affair is now in my lawyer's hands, and plaintiff and defendant chattering about it, is all smoke.

_Sim._ Feyther, don't be so cruel to Mr. Banks.

_F. Gam._ I'll mark what I may want to keep for myself. Stay here, and see that not a pin's worth be removed without my knowledge. [_To_ SIM.

[_Exit._

_Sim._ I'll be domm'd if I'll be your watch dog, to bite the poor, that I won't. Mr. Banks, as feyther intends to put up your goods at auction, if you could but get a friend to buy the choice of them for you again. Sister Jane has got steward to advance her a quarter's wages, and when I've gone to sell corn for feyther, besides presents, I've made a market penny now and then. Here--it's not much! but every little helps.

[_Takes out a small leather purse, and offers it to_ BANKS.

_Banks._ I thank you, my good natured boy; but keep your money.

_Sim._ Last summer, you saved me from being drowned in black pool, if you'll not take this, ecod, in there I'll directly fling it, and let old nick save it from being drowned, an'he can. [_Going._

_Banks._ My kind lad, then I'll not hurt your feeling, by opposing your liberality. [_Takes it._