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boy, after clothing, feeding, and making him your man of trust, for two-and-twenty years, that you wonder he don't run away from you, now you are in


Job. (Affected) John, I beg your pardon. (Stretches out his hand.)

about it.

Bur. (Taking his hand.) Don't say a word more
Job. I.

Bur. Pray, now, master, don't say any more! come, be a man! get on your things; and face the bailiffs, that are rummaging the goods.

Job. I can't, John: I can't. My heart's heavier than all the iron, and brass, in my shop.

Bur. Nay, consider what confusion!-pluck up courage; do, now ! Job. Well, I'll try.

Bur. Aye, that's right: here's your clothes. (Taking them from the back of a chair.) They'll play the deuce with all the pots and pans, if you aren't by. -Why, I warrant you'll do! bless you, what should ail you?

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fob. Ail me? When you have a daughter, John Bur, and she runs away from you, you'll know what ails me.

Bur. Come here's your coat and waistcoat. (Going to help him on with his clothes.) This is the waistcoat young mistress worked, with her own hands, for your birth day, five years ago. Come, get into it as quick as you can.

Fob. (Throwing it on the floor violently.) I'd as lieve get into my coffin. She'll have me there soon. Psha! rot it! I'm going to snivel. Bur, go, and get me another.

Bur. Are you sure you won't put it on?

Job. No, I won't. (Bur pauses. No I tell you. [Exit Bur.] How proud I was of that waistcoat, five years ago ! I little thought what would happen, now, when I sat in it, at the top of my table, with all my neighbours, to celebrate the day;-there was Collop, on one side of me, and his wife on the other; and my daughter,

Mary, sat at the further end-smiling so sweetlylike an artful, good-for-nothing-I shou'dn't like to throw away a waistcoat neither: I may as well put it on.-Yes-it would be poor spite not to put it on (Putting his arms into it.)-She's breaking my heart: but, I'll wear it, I'll wear it. (Buttoning it, and crying involuntarily.) It's my child's -She's undutiful-ungrateful-barbarous-but she's my child-and she'll never work me another.

Section V.



Duke.Put up you weapon, Sir

'Tis the worst argument a man can use ;
So let it be the last! As for your daughter,
She passes by another title here,

In which your whole authority is sunk-
My lawful wife.

Balth. Lawful!-his lawful wife!

I shall go mad. Did you not basely steal her,
Under a vile pretence?

Duke. What I have done I'll answer to the law. Of what do you complain?


A most notorious and self-confess'd impostor?

you not

Duke. True! I am somewhat dwindled from the state In which you lately knew me ; nor alone Should my exceeding change provoke your wonder, You'll find your daughter is not what she was. Balth. How, Juliana?

'Tis indeed most true.

I left you, Sir, a froward foolish girl,
Full of capricious thoughts and fiery spirits,
Which, without judgment, I would vent on all

But I have learnt this truth indelibly-
That modesty, in deed, in word, and thought,
Is the prime grace of woman; and with that,
More than by frowning looks and saucy speeches,
She may persuade the man that rightly loves her,
Whom she was ne'er intended to cominand.

Balth. Amazement! Why, this metamorphosis Exceeds his own!What spells, what cunning, What witchcraft has he employ'd!

ful. None he has simply taught me To look into myself: his powerful rhetoric. Hath with strong influence impress'd my heart, And made me see at length the thing I have been, And what I am, Sir,

Balth. Are you content to live with him?
ful. Content!-I am most happy!
Butth. Can you forget your crying wrongs?
Not quite, Sir:


They sometimes serve us to make merry with.
Balth. How like a villain he abus'd your father?
ful. You will forgive him for my sake!


Duke. Why, then, 'tis plain, you seek your own revenge,

And not your daughter's happiness!

Balth. No matter: I charge you on your duty as my daughter, follow me!

Duke. On a wife's obedience, I charge you, stir not! Jul. You, Sir, are my father; At the bare mention of that hallow'd name, A thousand recollections rise within me, To witness you have ever been a kind one :-This is my husband, Sir!

Thy husband: well


Jul. 'Tis fruitless now to think upon means He us'd-I am irrevocably his :

And when he pluck'd me from my parent tree
To graft me on himself, he gather'd with me
My love, my duty, my obedience;
And, by adoption, I am bound as strictly

To do his reasonable bidding now,
As once to follow yours.

Section VI.


My brave associates-partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! Can Rolla's words add vigour to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts? No-you have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you,--Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours.-They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder and extended rule -we for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate; we serve a monarch whom we love,-a God whom we adore. Where'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress! Whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns her friends. They boast, they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error!-Yes-they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection-Yes such protection as vultures give to lambs, covering and devouring them. They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our plain answer this: The throne we honour is the people's choice;-the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy ;-the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them too, we seek no change; and least of all such change as they would bring us.


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