Qass. Book. / DEAF J.OVER. J A FAIlCi:, ^. 5 IN TWO ACTa. I O ^ j BY F. PILON. """TfT^ OiVform^d at the Theatr-i ll^yal, Covent Gt^rden, ■< and the Pliilaflelphirt and BaUimore Theatres. : NEW-YORK : HUBl.tSHRD BV CHARLES Wll.F.V, NO. 3 WALL STRBF.T C. l,AnY & I. LKA, & mVaUTY & DWIS, I'HILA DE.M'Hi; AM) SAMUEL H. PAKKF.R, BOSrO>r. 'II ^> '>>»''#< 'y Y ^<^> PROLOGUE. \ WriUen by the Author, and Spoken by Mr. i Lee Lewes. STATESMEN and Poets, oft', one fortune fin He now had made a total alteration. ) Mistakenly, he built on Gallic giound, Butprov'd French wit was, like Frencii faiih, un/ound; Hence wiser grown, he's cautious in his views, And makes no foreign compacts for his Muf^e, On foreign aid 'tis hazardous reliance. But certain ruin's in a French alliance. By Gar, Monsieur will bay, you mistake quite, Mon Pais my country, be lovjovrs right; Itfaui vous nller, you must go to France, If you will learn to make bon alliance ; Far Palliance Bourbon, we long trick you ; Par VaUiancf. Jimericue, trick dem too ; P'oila Monsieur, (TEstaing, has he not jjlay'd, One pretty trick, in taking dc Grenade'/ Is he not grand, invincible Hero? Arrah, replies Teague, ask General Prevost^ •^o much with iStiot he bothcr'd him, thev say. PROLOGUE. He play'd an old French trick and run away. Now home to France he's gone with broken thigh, |]is leg being wounded, says he came too nigh ; I And, by St. Patrick, hfe deserved his fate, j Wlio would not give the woman a retreat ; -■ Had bill the Irish brifi,ade been there, '; They'd given their hearts before tliey'd hurt the fair. \ But talk no more of Heroes — name me one, ) I Like the brave tar, who met the Spanish Don ^ i Without a sword, and gave him up his own.* > J Oh I such a trick, with ail your gasconade, ; No French monsieur, or Spaniard ever play'd. ■ | But whilst for valour's crown great nations fight, j And while ambition takes the name of Right : 1 Ambiguous states, each diff'rent powt r to fiecce, , Equal suspend the scale of war and peace; Abjure all principle, but that they've lent, I And now no interest, butceiu. per c nt ; But, rouz'd by wrongs, the v.enius of the land, .! Ju self-collected might, more firm shall stand ; \ Hibernia's cause, and Britain's now made one, ) ' -l We boast a (am'ly compact of our own ; / | Defies the treach'rous compact of Bourbon. } fj Whilst Justice, as a flaming /Egis, throws -^ Confusion and disinay on Er-ghuid's foes ; jj Her thunder to the world shall speak again ] She reigns th' unshaken Sov'reign of the main. i * One of his own ; or he had been a fool, not a hero | -Vide Raymond's History of England. DRAMATIS PERSON.!^. Meadows Voiin*; VVrongward Old Wrongwanl Canteen Stern hold Groom J > Servants te Wrongward lecond gentleman Cook William John Sophia Beisy Blossom First > J , Second 5 ^^^'y Maid The Paragraphs between inverted coinmas, (thus are omitted in the representation. THE DEAF LOVER- ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. A ROOM AT AN INN. MEADOW!? DISCOVERET) IN A RID1.\G- DRES8 WITH (ANTKtN. TABLt., CHAIRS, PEN, INK, AND PAPtR. Mea. Was there no possibility of bribing one of the servants ? Curt None in the world, sir, which indeed surpriz- ed me, for though I must confess they have all good places, \ have known folks with better, and in a great- er man's service, who would not let a biibe slip through their fingers for want of the trouble of clinching the fist upon it. Mea. What shall I do, Canteen .'' you are an old campaigner, and should be ripe with stratagem in desperate cases ! Can. 1 have got a scheme to serve you, if yoiiMl undertake it. 8 THE DEAF LOVER. acs i Mea. Can you doubt me ? Can. Then be attentive : Old Wrongward's house, on the approaching wedding, is thronged as a fair with company ; dress yoiusell m the style ol an elder- ly gentleman travelling in the country ; pretend to inisapprehend every body. In short, assume the char- acter of a deaf man, and, thus disguised, put up at his house, as if you took it for an inn. Mea. Pho I pho ! 1 shall be taken before a magis- trate. Can. Not yon, mdeed, sir; at all these public wed- dings, there are a great nimiber of stra gersj invited by the chief guests , you'l! pass as a friend to s-ome of the company — But grant you are taken for the character you atisume, an old, deaf, blundering blockhead, your mistakes will create so ii-uich enieriainmeni, that no- boflj' will til nk of turning you out of doors till you have full opportunity of discovering yourself to your mistress. Mea. And do you. think she'll listen to me .'' Can. I'm sure of it, sir; I'd stake my life to a car- touch box, that your letters iw\i\ can p have been in- tercepted, and some damn'd story trump'd up by that old villian, her £iiardian, to make her marry his own son. Mea. It must be so, iny Sophia otheivvise never could have forgot me. Can. It must be so .' Lord, sir, if you were not so much in love, it would appear to you as plain as a pike-staff; but when once love gets into a man's head, poor reason is brought before a court-martial of the passioiis, and cashiered without a hearing. Mea. But it will be necessary to apprize Sophia of this; if I can by any means convey a letter to her. Can. A lightjbreaks m upon me ; I met a little flow- er girl standing at the inn door, as fresh and as bloom- ing as the sweetest rose in her basket — Don't you im- agine a letter may be conveyed by her into the garri- son. sc-i.Nfci. THE DEAF LOVER. i> Mea. Can we trust her ? Can. She's as sure as a rifle barrel, sir ; — You know \vhal a smooth tongue and a smart figure will do with a girl in the country ; 1 have persuaded her that 1 am over head and ears in love viih her — and liave swore by the god of love, and the god of battles, that i'll make her Mrs. Canteen, if she pleases, before to m orrow morning. Mea. \^' here is she ? Can, Selling nosegays to passengers, as they go in and out of their carriages; hut I'll bring her lo you, sir, in tlie drawing of a trigger, in the mean time write your letter, — there's pen, ink and paper on the table. [exit Canteen. Mea. {IVriiing.) My all depends on I.ei receiving this letter — otherwise, tne surprize of so unexpectedly meeting ir.e, niinht occasion a disco veiy {Seeing Cunieen and Betsy Blossom.) Oh I here comee Mars and Venus alreac y. [enter Canteen and Betsy Blossovi. Bet. NosegHys, your honour.'' Ma. Coiue hither, n)y pretty dear, and let me see th em. [looks in the basket. Bet. O sir, don't tumble over my basket ! I can't let you pick ani choose at a common price. Can. (aside to her.) Let him take which he pleases, he's as generous as a prince, hussey. Bet. Is he ? by Goss then he shalf have the myrtle and the jessamine, and the two moss roses I was tak- ing up to the Squire's where the great wedding is to be. Mea. What's that you say .'' Are you going to the house, where the great wedding is to be ? Bet. Yes, and I shall sell all my nosegays there, and am promised a ribband lor a bride favour by John the butler. Cun. O ho ! John the butler ! I find I'm not sole proprietor of my little nosegay merchant. jO the Dt^AF LOVER. Acr i. Mea. (taking her by the hand.) Now, my sweet dear, blooming little Flora, if you will grant me one favour, I will give you a guinea. Bet Who I, sir ! I'd have you to know, sir, that I scorn your guineas — I am no sucii parson — though I'm poor, I'm honest, tiiat let me tell you— and I'd rather sell nosegays with my vartue, than ride in a coach and six without it Can. Zounds ! what an explosion was there, from a carbine like a pocket pistol — Why, who's going to meddle with your vartue ? I tell you, you may keep the guinea ai.d your vartue together. Bet May 1 ? Can. Yes; but I find, Betsy, I'm greatly deceived in your temper. I tnought you were as meek as a violet, but I find you are as sharp as a sweet briar. Mea. 1 only want you, my dear, to take this letter for me, and deliver it into the young lady's hand who is to be married lo-morrow ; and to take care that iiobo'lysees you. Bet. As sure as a gun T know who you are. Mea. Aye, prithee, who am i .'' Bet. You are her old sweetheart, and she has turned false hearted. Can. Oons, what a witch it is ! I'll go and prepare your dress, sir, [exit Canteen. Bet. It's the talk of the whole village how iVIiss Sophia had forsaken a malicious officer that was in love with her. Mea. v\ ill you take this letter for me .'' Bet That I will with all my heart, — and between ourselves, though 1 am a poor girl, give her her own into the bargain. Mea- My dear, you must not say a word to her; only deliver the letter. Bet What, then you would not have rae scold her ? SCENE II. THE DEAF LOVER. XI Men By no means, — that would ruin mfi for ever in her esteem; hut what is your name, my iovei' Bet. Beisy Blossom, an't plea-e you [curtsying. Man. Well, my dear Betsy, go otf immediately, and remember that the whole happiness of my life depeiids on your care and secrecy [exit Betty, SCENE ir, OLD AVHONGWARD AND STERNHOLD DISCOV- ERED. STFRNhOLD reading IHE papers TO HIM. OLD \VRO\(iWAR0 IN HIS GOUT? CHAIR, WRAPT UP IN FLAN- KELS. — V^EAT CHAIR, »ABLE, 3MALL CHAIR, NEW9PA- PER-i OV THE TABLE. Old JV. You are a terrible reader, Sternhold : can't you speak ynur words shorter ? — you sound every syl- ial)le, as if you isad a speaking trumpet at your mouth. Stem. I cam help it your honour; it's a way 1 have got. Old IV. It's like the grind of an ill-toned barrel or- g^n in my ears — but go on, for you were born a parish clerk, and will chaiint every thing in psalm-tune to the end of the chapter. Stern, (reading.) Rome, April 1st. Vesterday morning, between twelve and one, his Holiness the Pope, was safely delivered of twins — the mother and children ore well and likely to live. Old IV. Why is the fellow niao con- foundedly. Y vng IVrong. 1 have very had news to teil you, sir— Meadows has been seen about the house. Old Wrong. I'he Oevii he has! i'hen, boy. we are undone If she sees him, our intercepting his letteis, and the story of bis marriage with another, will all be discovered. Young Wrong. She has seen no stranger to day ? SCKNE It. THE DEAF LOVER. 15 Old Wrong. IVot a soul, to my knowledge, except a pooi little innocent flower girl. Young IVijng. it's no matter — that woman, I am persuanerl, has broue;ht her a letter. Old IVrnng t cofi, like enough. Young Wrong. Then, sir, if you will sit with the compauy, I'll a;oin pursuit of her, and if in the power of gold, I'll get everything out of her [ exit Young IVrongward. Old Wrong. Aye, with all my heart. — Here, Wil- liam ! Enter Williarn. Wil Did you call, sir.' Old Wr mg. Roll nie in to the company. — (Wil' Ham goes behind the chair a ■d r.dls it ) 'softly, yotrrascal ! ! ( iesi^ eoulri bt- purchased, what would'nt 1 give (or a new pan- - — Oh ' sotily' softly •' [tmi IVilliam^ rolling off Old JVrongtcard. SCENK ni. — outsidd: of old wrongward >> house. Enter John. John. What a couple of danm'd rogues my master and I are to stop all these here le'ters— it would go greatly against my conscienne, osily tor what : jiet by it— vVell, niy master cht ats his ward, and i cheat my master, for hf has never seen this picture, (pulls out a minialure, nor the letter that came with it yet if these ar'nt mock diamonds round it, it will bring a pretty penny — let me see, now — Enter Betsy Blossom. Bet. Good day, Mr. John. John. Ah ! my pretty Betsy— come hither, my little dear. 16 THE DEAF LOVER. act i. Bet. What's that you are looking at so close, Mr. John ? John. Only a picture, my love — Are you a good judge of painting, Betsy .'' Bet. ;ainting! Lord, sir, you must ask some fine London ladv tliat question — we poor folks in the coun- try know nothing, of the matter. Juhn How do }ou like thai. Betsy ? [Showi! her the miniature. Bet. It has a vast fine fratue around it John Yes, Yes, you are a great judge of painting, I see clearly. Bet Aud looks as natural as ynu that are speaking to nie Juhn. Eh ! why, zounds ! she lakes it for my pic- ture Bet W hat fine eyes .' Juhn. Fine eves I — nh, yes, she takes it for me. Btt \nd two cheeks like cherries — then -uch pretty hair — ?o curi'd, so tnz'd and so flowered, h looi-.s like a white thorn in full blossom Jchn You must know, my dear. I wore my hair so, when that was drawn for me. Bet Is this your picture, Mr John.' Jvhn. I thought yon knew that already. Bet I vow, 1 took it for a gentleman's. John. What ! — then you don't thmk it like me .-' Bet. Like you ! no more like you than a carnation is like a butcher's brooin. Ji,hn. Butcher's broom .' — What a Fleet-market comparison! — You think, then, 1 aui altered since it was drawn for me ^ Bet. Oil, quite changed — you are as brown as a chesnut to what you were; and your eyes, thai were once so blue, are now as gray as the very willows. John I am sitting for a striking likeness, I find. Bet Then your forehead's grown square — your chin sharp— your nose flat— your teeth— no, they're n»t t n^CENE 11. THE DKAF LOVEll. j? W grown at all — for I can't see above one or two left in ^ your iiead John. Zounds ! have done, you unmerciful baggage: give me my picture —I may "be altered a little, but it is impossibla can be so damnably metamorphosed as yon describe. Bet. What, after making a bargain ? Enter Young' JVrongward. Young Wrong. So. so, Mr. John, whai bargain is this vou have been striking.'' John Bargain! Sir — i was only agreeing about some tuhos. Bet riial was all, your honour— John only wanted some tulips of me J>h^i. , Aside to B tsy.) Not a word of the pic- ture Young Wrong. But, sir, can't the gardener supply you i* '^^ ^ John. Sir. he says t want too many, and that he won't spoil his beds to please me or a^ly man in Eng- land. •= Bet Now, sir, I can give him plenty, and ne- ver mmd spoiling a bed when it is made"^ worth mv while. ^ Xounsr Wrong. I believe you, young damsel Harkee, John, (aside to John)— I suppose this girl has bee.i employed by Meadows to convey a letter to So- phia. -Get you gone, and I'll sound her. John You had better leave her to me, sir. Young Wrong. No, no— she's too artful for you. John Aye, and for you too, I'll be sworn— I don't like to leave iier alone with him. Young Wrong. Not gone yet, sir.? John. Oh! yes, I'm gone— Ca.«rfe)— Very far gone I find in love, for now I am as jealous as the devjl of bim— Oh ! my poor picture, I sliall never see its face again' I F.xH Jdm': 18 THE DEAF LOVER. act i Young Wrong Can you keep a secret, my dear? Bd. J don't know, sir — I never was tried. Yovng Wrong. Come, coriie. I know you have; and if you'll divulge it to me, I'll give you more than you got from Captain Meadows. Bet. Captain Meadows i who is he, sir.'' — T don't know him. — {aside) — He's only pumping me now, but J)e shall get iioihing by it. Young Wrong. What ! then you have neither brought nor received a letter here to day .'' Bet. Lord, sir, who'd trust the likes of me '..ith a let- ter.'' Young Wrong Let me see, now, in which pocket have you got it. [aitempis to starch her. Bt. Kf.ep your hands to j^oursi^lt — I have nothing smuggled about me — you shan't rummage me like a custom- house (jfficfr Young Wrong, {pv Us out a purse.") Look at this, hussey — I have both power and inclination to reward you. Bit. I'm sure, sir, there's nothing 1 wouldn't do to serve you. Young H^rong. Then you'll give me the letter .' Bet. Letter ' Lord, sir, what lettei .'' Young Wrong. Come, 1 insist upon your taking this. — (gives her money) — And now — Bd. And nuw, your honour, I'll go home to my fa- ther's and bring you tlie letter inimediateJy Young Wrong. Your father's ! — How came it there .? Bet. It came by the post, yesterday, from Devon- shire. Young Wrong. Devonshire ! what the devil is De- vonshire to u'.e ^ Bet. I thought you wanted to know sonethingabout my brother, the gardener, who wrote us a main long letter yesterday, and, what surprised us all, he's going to be married scFSE II. THE DEAF LOVER. 19 Yaimg Wrong. A most interesling piece of infor- mation, I must confess, -^he's a downrigiit idiot. How ridic^ilous do my suspicions make me ■ [exit Young Wrongward. Bet. By Goss, I've tiick't hiin nicely, — aonovv to my dear Mr. Canteen. Enter Canteen Can. Ail! Betsy, I'^e been watoliing you, audi feared you'd have turned traitor and betrayed us. Bet. i\o, Mr Canteen, I never would do tiiat — I would not be'tray you, no, ".ot for five pound. Can. What, not /or five pound ^ O matchless fidel- ity ! — But coiiic, have you ^ot .m answer r Bet. Ves, 1 have liial and John's picture both to- gether. Can John's picture .' Well, this is the first time fever knew a man vain of his uoliness ! If ^ had such an old lien's head riveted upon my shoulders, I'd quar- rel with a liahon of spring water, for reflecting my own counlena'nce on me. Bet. Aye — hut his picture is very handson>e— it's no more like him than box is like southern wed. Can No. tl;en he has >et for the picture bv proxy, or perhaps, like many other coxcombs, purchased it. as we sometimes do shoes, reaily marie, but come, let us look at it Bit. Here it is [shows the miniature. Can. Zcunds I this is my master's picture. Bet ■v^ hat, Captain Meadow's ! Can. His own likeness—and the very minature I saw him inclose about six weeks ago to Miss Sophia. Bet As sure as can be, lie stole it Can. I don't know how he came by it : but you're certain he gave it you .'* Bet. Quite sarlin. Can. Then come along, my B»tsy ; if you behave well now, I'll inaKe great advantages ©f this discove- ry: you shall introduce nie to John as your brother, ^0 THE DEAF LOVER. act i. ai)d I'll tenify him into a confession before I have done with hiiu. [exit Betsy and Canteens Enter Meadows, disguised as an old gentleman, with \ the groom. J)Iea. I hope your hay is good, friend? Groom. It's no inatiei how my hay is. 1 tell you,' you are niistakeii in tlie house ; this is no inn. Mea Why it you thmi; so, give him a ieed of oats; bu; take care to rub luni down well. Groom. Hub down the devil i 1 tell you my master keeps no inn. Jleu. Throw a few beans among the oats, if you have any Griioia. Throw a few beans a>nong the oats !— ^ Zounds' who p omised logive )qu an\ oais.' JI a That's a good lad, I know you'll taKe care of him. Groom. He's as deaf as a door nail — he doesn't un>lerstand a word ; say. Mca Did you speak to me, 3'ouno, man .'' Groom 1 have been bawling to \ou this hour, to tell you this is no iini : yonder is the C.eorge, or the Swan, or the King's \rms, where yoi '11 get your horse and yourself taken care of. [bawling in his ear. Mea. Well, well, I'll take your word lor the good- ness of your corn ; you have no occasion to be so loud in praise of it. Groom What the devil shall I do with him .^ He drove his horso into the stable, befo-e I knew whera 1 was, and if 1 turn him achifi, I shall be prosecuted. Mea. iVIy good lad, do you hear me.'' Groom I wish I could make you hear me as plain. Mea. I like your coimtenance. Groom. That'o more tlian - do your's. Mea. T.here's something in it tells me, you will SCENE u. THK DE\F LOVER. 21 do the beast justice, therefore, here's a shilHng for you —and ifl find have not been mistaken in the opinion 1 have formed of you, i simll remember you w hen 1 go away also. Groom. This is the first word of sense ! have got out of bin? — well, as his hort^e is in the stable, let him stay Iheie . iny master, i ain sure, will never ii'iss his one nit^hlV keep; bul tlien tbe best joke will be when he !^ets inio the bouse— ha ! ha ! iia I 1 shall kill niy- seii with laugbiii" ai the thou.i:,lits of it. J\Ia lla I ha ' ha ' Vr-rygood, indeed. G/oom. What the devd does helaogb at ? Men. I find you a fellow of i 5i,ood deal of humour. Groom iuinour ' What does lie mean ? Men. V'ou teil a devilish good story, btit 1 can't stay to hear the end of it. for '\n grea ly fatigued, and veiy weary — now remember vou rub him down well, and don'i Ibrget the beans amongst the oats. [exit Meadows Groom. * tell a devilish good story, and ^avea great deal of humour ' 11 'tis so. yon are tiie fir^i that ever d's'overeil my talents — ell I I have ^.it .i shilling from yiu so muin'sibe word, you're deaf— 1 am dumb, old gentleman. [exit Groom^ 22 THE DEAF LOVER. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. A HALL IN OLD WRONGWARD's HOUSE : SEVERAL SERVANTS HU.NNING ACROSS THE STAGt TVITil SbHPKR. Enter JVilliam. Wil. He's swearing like a dragon about the iced cream Bob I wish he was to feed upon nothing else till his temper become as coi 1 as hjs stomach. Enter Cook. Cwk. A man had better stand cook in Relzebub's kitchen. Here have I betMi hroilaiti mys;e]f lilse a beef st.;ak. for these two hours, and am thanked in a voUy of oaths for itafterv/anis Enter IViornas. Men There's not a drop of Madeira in the room ; and the butler ia to be turned off to-morrow. Enter J\r adows. Men. Aye, 1 like this. — it's an old saying, good business makes a {;oo<1 iiojise. SCENE I. THE DEAF LOVER. 23 V IFll This is some geatieman invited to supper— we bad better tell him it's on the table. Boh Certainly : — it's on the table, sir. Men So, I'il not pull off njy boots till I goto bed. fVil. Pull off his boots ! who said any thing about his hoots.'' i'houoh now I look at them, damn me if ever i saw a dirtier pair in the course of my life. Mea. What tiave you got for supper .'* fVil. Every thing the season c an afford is on tliQ table, sir Mea. Why, you l)lockhead, woodcocks are not in season IVil. I said nothing about woodcwks — but, sir, there's a delightful carp stewed in da et— afine jack roasted with a pudding in his belly — sotne choice piiea-ants — and such cherry tarts — apple pies, jellies, iceut all agree in pronouncing him the most impiident, troublesome, dirty old fellow that ever come into a house — do but look at his boots sir. Sop. {aside) Love has inspired me with a thought for his deliverance, {comts forward) liless me I I know this genileman's face perfectly well — it is the celebrated Doctor Humdrum ; I saw him several times at Bath, though I never spoke to him : he's the first physician in England ; but has been troubled with icE^£. 111. THE DEAF LOVfcfl. Z1 tlie most obstinate deafness for several years — and, what is most extraordinary, does every thing in Jiis power to conceal it. Old JV. Deaf I why does ho come here to plague us with his deafness? Sop. I thought, sir, you had more humanity than ox to feel for such a misfortune. Old IV. But are you sure he's deaf.' Sop. Does not hear a word you say to him. Mea. You'll let me go to bed, then .'' upon my soul. It gives nie pain to part from such good company — , fjut. I'm quite weary. , Old IV. Ay, poor geTitleman, I pity him, he shall have a bed — he has taken the house lor an inn, I suppose ; a very good joke faiih — ha! ha ! ha ! Mea. Ha! ha I ha! a dev'lish good song, a dev- 'lish good song indeed ^ but 1 can't stay to encore it. lion rcpos, bon repos .' [Exit Meadows, lighted. Old TV George, do you go and see the gentleman is taken great care of. [Fiddles behind. Exit Youyig' Wrongward. Old W. Ha ! here comes the fiddles— come girls, foot it away, I'll sit up with you an hour extraordina- ry, and if this confounded gout would give my joints -a holliday, I'd have a reel with the youngest of you. [A dance. Exeunt rolling off Old Wrongioard. SCENE III.— A CHAMBEE. Enter Sophia, Canteen, and Betsy Blossom. Sop. So Captain Meadows's servant is your brother^ Jetsy. Bet. Oh, that was only— he I he ! [with affected confusion Can. Yes, Ma'am, as Bstsy v/ould say, that was 2^. THE DEAF LOVER. act u only to deceive John, your guardian's privy coun- "%. But how have you proceeded since this d.sco^ "'^ef Va^^ly clever T warrant hi.n ; he has fright- pii.? the picture, unless he "ine^ ^ • g « ^^^ j^, informed aga nst his niafter— my n>eiu t^^ > a '"^7'rr„k your ladyship, rmsu-cl do. Can. Now is my freedom gone. Rfl What you won't marry me .' ^1. Else iL should J '"« ■;',5^^r*T„„„, you, . Be(. 1 donl know what >"" ™^" ,S,,„ when you frefd„m-,bu.inthoughtyoulosa thu««l.^J,^ ^°y; „ Pho ' Dho ■ you little, fool, by giving up .ny freedLfl m.an'°l gL -P my hear, into you, posses. ='°SefDo%ou ? Then by gosh I you shall have my heart for life instead of it. THE DEAP LOVER. SCENE IV. CHANGES TO A BED CHAMBER. EM I R MEADOWS FOLLOWED BV A tHAMBERMAlD WITH LIGHTS. Maid This i? my voune; lady's apartment : and — you must no s'av here Men. \iy goo'i a,irl you needn't give yourself the tiouble, I never have my bed warmed. Maid I didn't come to warm your bed — I want you to ii,et out of the room Mea No, no, its a bad custom ; good night to you. Maid. Odds mv life, but he'd provok^ a saint. — (venj loud) I tell you again and again that this is my young lady's room, and you must quit it. Men A sack posset! I'll not taste it Come, let me lock my door, for I must be stirring early. She get^ between him and the door. Maid The devil a door do you lock hereto night. Mea. Ah ! you svanton young baj.tiatie, I understand you ; but all those days are over with me Maid Oh, Lorti I whai has the old nasty fellow got into his head now .' Ma. But come, we'll have one smack, and then bon soir. Maid. Help, help, murder ! [offers to kiss her. Enter three Servants. Wil What's the matter Sally .? Maid. This old vilhan wa>i going to ruinate me. Bob I wish he was out of the house; 1 wonder my master gave him a bed. Mea. You'll take care lo call me early. Bob. Damn me I if call you. Wil. It's a shame for a man at your vears to be- have so. >U THE DEAF LOVER. ac> u. Maid. Ay, an old man like you, with one foot in ilie grave. Mea. You are mistaken, my dear, I cnn get up as well as any young fellow in England. — I am a mighty good riser, I must mount early, therefore call me by iive. Bob. We may as well talk to a stone wall. Maid. I shall lose my place for this. Mea. You need not wait for the light. [sits doton as if to undress^ Wil. Wait for the light I damn me ! if I had mjr will, but I'd darken your lights for you, and leave you ;o grope your way out of the house. Mea. Why, I believe, that's the safest way, so bring me an extinguisher ; you're a good natured lad, and I'll remember you for this. WjI. " If I eould write, I'd make him understand me at once. — Can you write, Joe .-* Joe. " I can chalk main well, but nobody can under- stand it except myself Wil. " Why you, Bob, went to school, I know. Bob. " Ay, but it's so long ago, I forgot all my learning: I'll make my mark, if you please." Wil. 'Sdeath and fire, he's undressing! we must '0 semething immediately. [Meadows lay? down a case, of large pistob. Bob. "What swinging pistols he has ! Mea. Lay you there, my good friends — I hope I bhan't have the same need for you here, as at the last inn where I lay. Bob. Do you hear that .-' Mea. I am sorry I shot the ostler and kitchen maid. I own ; but what am I to think of people who come into my room after I am in bed ? All Seniants. Oh .'' the bloody minded old rogue ! 3Tea. I know the advantages that may be taken of iny deafness, and am determined to fenire mys<>lf FJ«E IV. THt DLAI- LOVER. 3i TVil. I am rlcterminorl to do the same, and so good Bight. [runs off. Boh. I'll stay no longer. [exit. ; Joe. Oh .' if I am hindmost, may I be shot like the jpOOr o?tler and kitchert naid ! [exit. ; Maid And may 1 be burnt if J stay to be shot ! [exit. Men. Oh, Fortime, auspicious to my warmest hopes. "N ow could J but see, and converse one momentwitli my Sophia — Ha ; yonder comes a light — 'tis she— 'lis she herself, my adorable Sophia. Enter Sophia. Soph. T am come to tell you to lock yourself in im- iaedialely — to morrow <'il speak to yuu — it is danger- ous for us to continue a moment together. Mea. Gut is not to morrow to be your wedding-day ? am I not to lose you forever to-morrow f Sop. No, Meadows, 1 am now satisfied of your hon* our, and my guardian's villany : a plot has been just discovered to me, will astonish you — To morrow | will quit this house and put myself under your protec- tion. Men. My love, my life I you transport me. Enter Young Wrongward. young W. He shall leave the house to night. Hajr what do I see ? Sop. (aside) 't's all over, and 1 may as well throw off the mask now as to-morrow. Old Wrongward rolled tn by William. Old Tf. He deserves a hovse-pond instead ofagoo^ 32 THE DEAF LOVER. act u. Men. f should prefer a good bed notwithstanding Mr. vVrongward. Old IV. V hy he has got his heajring. M. a Yes, sir, and my feeling too, of resentment for the had !■''. Meadow? ' this is ctirsed uniuckv but, George, we must get him out of the house as fast as possible. Can. (IV>thoui) if you dont come hy fair means, I'll lay you by the heals and force you into court. Enter Canteen, John, and Betsey. Young W. \il, I fear, is discovered Old IV. Eh ' who is tliat fellow got hold of John ? Con. Let his worship know, John : or 1 shall be committed for an assault, in the very act of thiefta- king. John Why, sir, if I must speak, it is you and my 3-oung jnaster that have brought me to this (iisgrace. Old IV Who, I and my son ? why the fellow has lo!?t his wits— or else he is drunk — take him to bod, I hate a drunkard. John Lies won't do now, 1 must speak the truth, or suffer for it— Captain Meadows, I humbly ask your for-^iveness, but ever) letter von sent to iViiss hophia, I stopt, by the positive orders of both my masters Can 'is all very true a id among the rest, he stopped the miniature you sent Miss ^ophia by which he was discovered — for the ugly dog hart the impudence to afempt to pass it upon my Betsy here, foi his own proper 1 keiiess. t'lji Young IV. Come Sophia, I am sorry you have been disturbed — Captain, you may have a bed if yon please. «CENE IV. THE DEAF LOVER. 33 Mea. No sir. I shall quit your house, and take my Sophia with nr)e. [Takes her by hand. Old TV What, would you steal a ward from her guard ian ? Y'rtinz TV. Nay, if you proceed to force, make a prisoner of her— take the consequence \ Draws. M'U. She has been lon/i a pr'soner. sir, 'i! a ,lacc she 'lislike'^ : hut here is my habeas tor her renioval. (PulU