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_Colonel E._ Miss, vill you be in love de ninth time, and run avay vid me?
_Miss Dolly B._ Lord, sir, are you going to run away?
_Colonel E._ Oui, I vill scamper off vid you.
_Miss Dolly B._ Oh, now I understand you--but why scamper off, sir, when I'm sure mamma would consent?
_Colonel E._ Oui, consent--but dat is so mechanique!--
_Miss Dolly B._ True, sir, it does sound of Bow bell; and, as you say, scampering off is such a funny thing, he! he! he!--[_Aside._] Ecod, I've a great mind, if I should, how Squire Tallyho would be surprised!
_Colonel E._ Allons, ma chere.
[_Going._
_Miss Dolly B._ Stop, will you excuse me afterwards to Squire Tallyho?
_Colonel E._ For vat?
_Miss Dolly B._ Because I promised to run away with him.
_Colonel E._ Indeed!
_Miss Dolly B._ Yes, but don't tell mamma--Sure, 'twas for that I came here to meet him.
_Colonel E._ Yes, but here I come first.
_Miss Dolly B. True_, sir, and first come, first served, as pa used to say, in the shop at home--he! he! he!
_Colonel E._ Come, then, my dearest angel!--Aha--Stay, mademoiselle, I vill order my gentilhomme to pack up some poudre, and pomade, and my dancing pump, as von cannot tell vat may happen--den, hey for love and pleasure!
[_Exit._
_Miss Dolly B._ [_Calling after him._] Colonel, make haste!
_Tall._ [_Without._] Halloo, Doll! hip, my dainty Dolly!
_Miss Dolly B._ Squire Tallyho!--Oh, dear, what shall I do?
_Enter TALLYHO._
_Tall._ Well, Doll, are you ready, my sweet Gosling?--I've got a fine rosy, drunken friar here--but, when I get you over into Yorks.h.i.+re, we'll be married over again--you remember my chaplain, honest Parson Thump?
_Miss Dolly B._ Lord, Squire, don't tell me of Parson Thump--what kept you so long?--here have I been crying my eyes out for you.
_Tall._ Crying--fudge--show--why, your eyes do look as if---Ah, come now, you've an onion in your handkerchief?
_Miss Dolly B._ No, indeed, as I hope for--he! he! he!
_Tall._ Now, now, there--now, what's that for?
_Miss Dolly B._ I was laughing, to think of our marriage.
_Tall._ I begin to think, marriage is no laughing matter, Doll--now, I tell you truly, I like you as well as any thing I ever saw--Good points--fancy, thirteen hands high, and, by my lady's account, rising nineteen years last gra.s.s--but I tell you some things you must learn, to be my wife.--My mother, you must know, was a fine lady, all upon the hoity-toities, and so, good for nothing--Says father to me, one evening, as the last whiff of his fourth pipe sighed to the tears of the third tankard--Gaby, my dear boy, never marry a woman that can't breakfast on beef--carve a goose--won't withdraw from table, before "King and const.i.tution," and sing a jolly song at first bidding--and then, says he, [_Snores._] take care o'the girls, Gaby--and dropping asleep--yes, father, says I, I'll take care o'the girls--and with that, I slipped a brace of yellow boys out of his purse, and, next day, bought Peggy Trundle, the housemaid, a pair of Bath garters, silver shoe-buckles, and a marquisate pin, for her stomacher, he! he! he!
_Miss Dolly B._ I shouldn't ha' thought of your entertaining me with your old father's pipe, and Peggy Trundle's stomachers--if you're come here to run away with me, why, do the thing at once, and let's have no more talk about it.
_Tall._ True, Doll, such a fortune as yours, don't offer every day--I've a chaise at the door, and a sulky for Father Dominic, and, as your dad may be for pursuing us, I won't depend upon those rascally French postboys--it's all crack, smack, jabber, grin, and bustle--great noise, and little work, with them--No, no, I'll put on a jacket and great boots--a good disguise too--I'll drive you myself, gee up, my queen--you'll see how we'll tatter the road--do it there, whipcord--shave the signpost--Ah, softly up hill, good Bully--bit of hay to cool their mouths--pint o' twopenny, and a new lash--then, spank the Unicorn slapdash--Gee up--once we're coupled, let Sir John come whistle for you--Gee up--Ah, b.u.t.ton--do it there--softly, my honies--gee-ah! ha!
[_Imitating._
[_Exit._
_Miss Dolly B._ Upon my word, this is clever--so, a gentleman can't go to be married, without his great boots! and t'other youth couldn't go without his dancing pumps--Ecod, if one of my old sweethearts was to step in now, I am so vexed, I should be strongly tempted to give them both the double.
_Lackland._ [_Without._] Oh, the lady's this way.
_Miss Dolly B._ Who have we now? I protest, the sprightly, elegant gentleman, that sent papa for his snuff box--he's a vastly pretty fellow!
_Enter LACKLAND._
_Lack._ At last I have found her--I hate courts.h.i.+p--no occasion here, I fancy--so sans ceremonie--here goes--[_Aside._] Ma'am, your most obedient--
_Miss Dolly B._ How d'ye do, sir?
[_A short Courtesy._
_Lack._ Well, my dear, 'tis at last settled--
_Miss Dolly B._ Sir!
_Lack._ Yes, though with some difficulty; I am now determined to marry you.
_Miss Dolly B._ Marry me!
_Lack._ A fact--but don't let your joy carry you away.
_Miss Dolly B._ You'll carry me away!
_Lack._ I said I would, and I never break my word.
_Miss Dolly B._ Said! to who, pray?
_Lack._ To myself--and you know, if a gentleman breaks his word to himself, what dependence can the world have on him--You're a fine creature--but I would not tell a lie for all the women in France.
_Miss Dolly B._ [_Aside._] What a high notion of honour!--a much handsomer man too, than either Tallyho, or the colonel--Ecod, he's a charming, flashy beau!--I have a great mind----
