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Ben. Why that's true again; for mayhap one bot. tom may spring a leak.
You have hit it indeed; mess, you've nick'd the channel.
Mrs. F. Well, but if you should forsake me after all, you'd break my heart.
Ben. Break your heart? I'd rather the Marygold should break her cable in a storm, as well as I love her. Flesh, you don't think I'm false-hearted, like a landman. A sailor would be honest, thof mayhap he has never a penny of money in his pocket.—Mayhap I may not have so fair a face as a citizen or courtier ; but, for all that, I've as good blood in my veins, and a heart as sound as a biscuit.
Mrs. F. And will you love me always ?
Ben. Nay, an I love once, I'll stick like pitch; I'll tell you that. Come, I'll sing you a song of a sailor.
Mrs. F. Hold, there's my sister; I'll call her to hear it.
« Mrs. For. Well! I won't go to bed to my hus. “ band to-night; because I'll retire to my own cham“ber, and think of what you have said.
“ Scand. Well; you'll give me leave to wait upon you your
chamber door; and leave you my last « instructions ?
“ Mrs. For. Hold, here's my sister coming towards
“ Mrs. F.” If it won't interrupt you, Mr. Ben will entertain you with a song.
Ben. The song was made upon one of our ship’screw's wife; our boatswain made the song; mayhap you know her, sir. Before she married she was called Buxon Joan of Deptford. Scand. I have heard of her.
A soldier and a sailor,
Whose name was Buxom Joan.
And lie o'nights alone.
The soldier swore like thunder,
With fighting for her sake.
And stop up every leak.
But while these three were prating,
Thought if it came about, sir,
He then might play his part:
That won the fair maid's heart.
" Ben. If some of our crew that came to see me « are not gone, you shall see that we sailors can “ dance sometimes, as well as other folks.-[Whistles. ] “ I warrant that brings them an they be within hear
« Enter SeAMEN.
« Oh, hear they be!-and fiddles along with them. “Come, my lads, let's have a round, and I'll make “ one. [Dance.] We're merry folks, we sailors; we 66 han't much to care for." Thus we live at sea; eat biscuit, and drink flip; put on a clean shirt once a quarter-come home, and lie with our landladies once a year; get rid of a little money, and then put off with the next fair wind. How d’ye like us ?
Mrs. F. Oh, you are the happiest, merriest men alive!
Mrs. For. We're beholden to Mr. Benjamin for this entertainment.-I believe it is late. Ben. Why, forsooth, an you think so, you had best
For my part, I mean to toss a can, and
go to bed.
remember my sweetheart, before I turn in; mayhap I may dream of her!
Mrs. For. Mr. Scandal, you had best go to bed, and dream too.
Scand. Why, faith, I have a good lively imagination; and can dream as much to the purpose as another, if I set about it. But dreaming is the poor retreat of a lazy, hopeless, and imperfect lover; “ 'tis “ the last glimple of love to worn-out sinners, and “ the faint dawning of a bliss to wishing girls and “ growing boys.
“ There's nought but willing waking love that can
ACT IV. SCENE 1.
Valentine's Lodgings. Enter SCANDA Land JEREMY.
Scandal. Well, is your master ready? does he look madly, and talk madly?
Jer. Yes, sir; you need make no great doubt of that: he that was so near turning poet yesterday morning, can't be much to seek in playing the madman to-day.
Scand. Would he have Angelica acquainted with the design?
Jer. No, sir, not yet. He has a mind to try whe. ther his playing the madman won't make her play the fool, and fall in love with him; or at least own that she has loved him all this while, and concealed it.
Scand. I saw her take coach just now with her maid; and think I heard her bid the coachman drive hither.
Jer. Like enough, sir; for I told her maid this morning, my master was run stark mad, only for love of her mistress. I hear a coach stop: if it should be she, sir, I believe he would not see her, till he hears how she takes it.
Scand. Well, I'll try her-'tis she; here she comes.
Enter ANGELICA. Ang. Mr. Scandal, I suppose you don't think it a novelty, to see a woman visit a man at his own lodg. ings in a morning ?
Scand. Not upon a kind occasion, madam. But, when a lady comes tyrannically, to insult a ruined lover, and make manifest the cruel triumphs of her beauty, the barbarity of it something surprises me.
Ang. I don't like raillery from a serious face.Pray tell me what is the matter?
Jer. No strange matter, madam; my master's mad, that's all. I suppose your ladyship has thought him so a great while.
Ang. How d’ye mean, mad?
Jer. Why, faith, madam, he's mad for want of his wits, just as he was poor for want of money. His