SCENE I. A Camp at Sileſia—Tents, Soldiers cleaning their Arms, &c.

Well, here I am near the camp of Sileſia—I ſup⯑poſe I ſhall eaſily find out Marſhal Fehrbellin's tent—if I could meet my old friend Darby—he ſhould con⯑duct me to it—but let's ſee—what ſays Darby's let⯑ter—ay, here's his ſcrawl.

Camp in Sileſia.

H [...]y, who have we here? ſome poor devil going to [...] nogg'd.

Oh, dear good Mr. Adjutant, and you my good little drummers—my dear friends, pot companions, bro⯑ther comrades and brother ſoldiers—now how can you have the heart to flog poor Darby?

Poor Darby—and is this thy preferment?

Pray, Sir,—how came this poor fellow in ſuch diſgarce?

A poor harmleſs devil, Sir—but ſometimes a little prone to miſchief—but for his arch tricks ſuch a favourite with our officers, that tho' he frequently deſerves puniſhment, yet he generally gets forgiven—and now, Sir, we give him this whipping as private as poſſible out of pure lenity—I have myſelf a very great friendſhip for poor Darby—ſo ſtrip, you dog.

Lord Sir, I never ſtrip but when I go to bed.—What are you about there Tommy, Tickleback?

Only tying knots.

Tying knots—now that's very childiſh of you. And pray, what are you about, Neddy Nimblewriſt?

Twiſting whipcord and wire—to give you a red waiſtcoat.

Whipcord and wire. Oh, dear—well if I muſt be whipp'd—If I don't like it, you ſhall leave off.

Pray, Sir, what's his crime?

Only ſuſpicion of drunkenneſs, and ſleeping on his poſt.

Yes, ſleeping on my poſt—but I never dreamt that I ſhould be flogg'd for it.

Who is your Captain?

At preſent, Sir; we have no Captain, he that was our captain was preferr'd prior to the review, and our new one is not arrived yet from Berlin.

Yes, Sir, but he is arrived, and honour'd with his Majeſty's commiſſion. I am he.

Captain Pat—Patty—yes it is, did I not ſay I ſhould ſee Captain Patty?

Adjutant—I think this buſineſs may be deferr'd.

Why, Sir, we had not the honor to knew of your arrival—and, Sir, to oblige you, we'll poſtpone his puniſhment.

By all means.

By all means—Poſtpone, ay and pardon it too—the devil a bit of hurt will it do to any body.

Releaſe him.

Ay releaſe me—don't you hear, my dear friends—pot-companions, brother meſſmates, and brother ſol⯑diers, Neddy Nimblewriſt, and Tommy Tickleback—I am not for the red waiſtcoat—ſo you may go and find another mouſe for your cat o-nine-tails. Get out, get along. Ah, ha!

And if you pleaſe, Sir, I'll go and inform the Marſhal of your arrival—Sir, you are welcome to out corps—I am very glad to ſee you.

Yes, Sir, I am very glad to ſee you—but my dear Pat, how you came like my good guardian angel, to ſave me!—let me ſee—arn't you an angel?

But how is all this, Darby?—you ingenious rogue you, how did you bring all this about?—I left you at the plow tail in Ireland—and here I find you at the whipping poſt in Sileſia.

Ay, 'twas you that did it—for when Captain Fitzroy made you a preſent of the colours, it ſet me all agog for a General's ſtaff—and when that jade Kathleen jilted me.

Away went carts and waggons—plows and flails.—

Ay, and becauſe I could not do as I would, while I was worth a farthing, ſold off all—and up to Dublin I came, mounted on a long tail'd dobin—and to be ſure I did not do things neatly—did not trim my⯑ſelf out in a ſmart ſuit of cloaths, and ſhew them the ſoul of an Iriſh lad—but hearing that there were ſome pretty boys of the Shamrock in London, I thought I'd ſee that too; I don't know how it was, but in taking leave of this body and that body, I muddled a little, and the blundering waterman, inſtead of putting me into a Parkgate Packet—launched me on board a ſhip bound for the Baltic—and I never diſcover'd the miſtake 'till I found myſelf landed at Dantzick; but how came you to ſell your Engliſh commiſſion, and turn Pruſſian ſoldier?

Why at preſent my country does not want my ſervices, and I thought if it ſhould want them, that they would not prove leſs deſerving of George by being for the preſent under the tuition of ſo regular a diſciplined a maſter as Frederick.—The Pruſſian arms were ever fam'd for regularity—pray how comes it they have made you ſo irregular?

Irregular—the moſt regular—as regular to my two half gallons every day, as I was to Dermot's brown jug—But Patty, tho' you are my Captain, you and I may crack a joke now and then—the devil a harm will it do our ſtrict Pruſſian diſcipline, for you and I, when we are ſnug, to talk over our merry meetings with our ſinging pot companions, Dermot and Father Luke, at the ſhoulder of murton.—Oh your ho⯑nour

likes a ſhoulder of mutton—

I ſhall give orders to the ſutler to dreſs you a nice one.

Marſhal Fehrbellin's complimenta—glad— hear of your arrival—expect you at camp—half an hour.

Give my reſpectful compliments, and I'll do myſelf the pleaſure to wait on him.

Tell him ſo.

Tall fellow—but of very few words.

Very few, but he found enough to inform againſt me—but if I am not even with him for it, there are no potatoee in Munſter.

Eh, Darby—yonder's a fine lovely girl paſſing along there—do you know her?

Oh, yes, ſhe is a very fine girl—but we have flocks of ſuch in Pruſſia—Lord, Sir, if you'll come along with me, I'll introduce you a-la-millitare.

By all means, Darby.

SCENE II. Front Grove.

Now to count my money—let me ſee—I ſold my pippins for two pence—my ſtrawberries for ſix⯑pence my peaches for ten pence, and my roſes for four pence: And now to tie it up in the corner of my handkerchief, leſt any rude fellow ſhould inſult me.

There ſhe is Darby.

Oh, yes, there ſhe is, and ſhe's yours—I know her—her name's Flora, ſhe ſells apples and flowers— and collyflowers.

And ſhe's the ſweeteſt flower in her own gar⯑den —My lovely girl.—

Did you call me, Sir?

Yes my pretty dear.

Pray, my dear, an't you a Whatecallum Girl— and don't you live in—Thingumy village?

Well, ſuppoſe I am a Whatecallum girl, and do live at Thingumy village, what then?

What then—oh, nothing at all—only that's Pat—and his honour would be glad to ſee you in his honor's tent, to take a glaſs of wine with his honor.

Honor, and honor—I drink wine with his honor! The fellow's a fool, I think.

So he is, my pretty dear—but, my ſweet roſe⯑bud, there's no harm, I hope, in taking a glaſs of wine, my pretty Pomona.

Oh, how ſweet ſhe would ſmack!

Do you think ſo, Darby?

Oh, yes, Sir—ſhe's yours, Sir, I'll get her for you.

Have a care, Darby, are you ſure I ſhan't be guilty of ſeduction!—I would not for a tranſient plea⯑ſure bring laſting ruin upon a poor innocent girl.

Ruin! Oh, pray what have you done with Norah?

Norah I have left her to the care of Father Luke.

What, old two to one, that brings mutton to his mouth by means of the multiplication table.

But, Darby—where can I find apartments— where can I put on my ſhoes?

We all wear boots in the camp—we ſhoe none but the horſes.—But you ſhall lodge for the pre⯑ſent at Mable Flouriſhes, where the officers meſs—I'll order your baggage there, and to be ſure to-morrow I won't [...]it you up the ſmarteſt booth in the camp—ſo come along—Pat—come along Patty—oh, dear—this way, Captain—Captain Patty.

Very well, Mr. Darby; you ſeem very accom⯑modating truly—and indeed if the girls are ſo hand⯑ſome, and come much in my way, I ſhall ſtand in need of all my conſtancy.

SCENE Outſide of MABEL FLOURISHES.

I am ſtrangely puzzl'd how to get this girl for Pat—ſhe's ſo very modeſt. Mabel.

Where are theſe apartments, where's Ma⯑bels?

Here, your honour—Mabel—Mabel.

Here's a new gueſt for you; ſo clean up your houſe, rub up the mohogany table—turn the counterpane—lay down the great carpet—get the trumpeter's great chair uncovered—waſh-ball and ſhip⯑pers —throw ſome ſand upon the ſtairs, and kick the cat out of the way.

Deviliſh lucky Pat's coming—let me ſee—I'll employ Olmutz to get Flora—will draw him into a ſcrape, and I ſhall be revenged on him for his attempt to get me tied to the halberts—and it he wants to ex⯑cuſe himſelf—it will be by half ſentences, ſo that no⯑body will believe him. Eh, here he comes, and little Quiz with him—that fellow always keeps company with great people—how high he carries his head with his hairy cap. When he comes in at a door he's oblig⯑ed to duck like a gander under a gate—drinks by half-gallons out of rummer glaſſes; eats with his broad ſword and picks his teeth with a bayonet.

I ſay Darby was ſhot from the mouth of a cannon.

Your cannon's a great gun.

No, no, I ſay he was only whipp'd.

No, nor he was not whipp'd.

I ſay, when I am a trooper.—

Ay, when ſhrimps are lobſters.

Shrimps and lobſters—I ſay, ſpirit does not conſiſt in ſize—The ſword-fiſh is not a whale—you ſhall ſee if Marſhal Fehrbellin will refuſe me a place in the grenadier corps.

Well, we ſhall ſoon ſee, for here he comes.

Does he? the firſt impreſſion's a great deal— I'll go and accoutre myſelf, and appear before him a⯑la-militare.

Oh, Quiz is gone—he could not ſtay to ſpeak to his Highneſs—ſo Mabel ſhall—for Olmutz I want to talk to you—ſoldiers, you know, ſhould not bear ma⯑lice —Your hand—I'll make your fortune—Mabel.

His Highneſs is coming to ſee your lodger—Mabel do you receive him.

Where's the new officer, Captain Patrick?

He is but juſt taking off his beard—ſhall I call him to your Highneſs?

No, I won't have him diſturb'd—I'll ſend my Aid-de-Camp to him—A good fine ſized woman—the proportion of our men has been for ſome time dimi⯑niſhing —now to match her with that tall fellow would produce ſoldiers equal to the full ſtandard.—Are you married?

No, and pleaſe your Highneſs, I am a maid, at your ſervice.

What's your name?

Mabel Flouriſh, and pleaſe your highneſs— my father was trumpeter Flouriſh.

Yes, they'll do very well—Soldier.

Here.

Are you married?

No, Highneſs.

Can you read?

Can't ſay, never tried.

Yes, they'll make an excellent match—I'll give orders to Captain Patrick to ſee the ceremony perform⯑ed —It will be an excellent leſſon to him of the ſtrictneſs of our military diſcipline—Here, deliver that to Cap⯑tain Patrick.—Yes, they'll be a very pretty couple.

His Highneſs was always very proud—I never heard him talk ſo ſweet and condeſcending before.

Coming, coming.

What devil's this?

What's the matter, Olmutz?

Marſhal deſire me give this paper—Captain Patrick.

That paper—what is it?

Don't know—can't read.

Let me ſee— ‘Marſhal Fehrbellin's com⯑pliments to Capt. Patrick—deſires he will, at ſight of this, ſee the bearer married to Mabel Flouriſh, with all diſpatch; and, as a portion, he will give her 50 rix-dollars from the military cheſt.’—Indeed!—but Olmutz ſhall never touch the dollars—Olmutz, you had better go about that buſineſs I was telling you of.

What, and leave Marſhal's paper—may be of conſequence—let's hear what about.

Oh, you want to know what its about—oh, you ſhall hear what its about—You can't read, you ſay.

No.

‘Marſhal Fehrbellin's compliments to Capt. Patrick; deſires he will, at fight of this, ſee the bearer ride the great horſe, for one hour, with five carbines tied to each leg.’

Me! what have I done? Wooden horſe—five carbines!

Poor fellow!—what a fine tall figure to ride the high horſe—Oh! your poor legs.

For what?—What have I done?

Poor devil!—ſuch legs to ſuffer ſo—what did he ſay to you?

Aſk'd if I could read.

And I ſuppoſe you told him no.

No—didn't—ſaid—never tried.

Never tried! Ay, that's done it.

Here comes Quiz ſtrutting, ſo merry—I obliged to ride great horſe!

I'll have a good joke

Olmutz, this paper don't mention your name: it only ſays the bearer.— Suppoſe we give it to Quiz to carry.

The very thing.—Captain, make him ride the great horſe.

So he will. Get a wafer: for Quiz can read, you know, and that would ſpoil the joke. This is fine. Come, Olmutz, there—

To be ſure I ſhall cut a very fooliſh bit of a figure at the grand review.

Ay, Quiz, better perhaps than you think: for I don't know how it comes about, but the Marſhal, on my ſpeaking a good word for you, has made your for⯑tune —Under this water lies your preferment.

Yes, he'll ſoon be exalted.

Ay, great merit can't long lay hid. But what is under that wafer?

A letter the Marſhal deſired you would give to Captain Patrick I told him you was a great man.

So I am—a high fellow.

So I ſaid:—ſix feet and an inch high, cap and all.

Yes, and he'll be highly mounted—a trooper.

Ay, Sir, little as you may think me, I may look down to-morrow on people taller than myſelf. I may, by the god of war

Yes, he'll look down, Darby, —perhaps to⯑day

You'll give the letter.

Do you think I'd neglect the Marſhal's com⯑mands —I will give it, by the god of war.

Hey day, what ſort of a figure have we here?

I am order'd by Marſhal Fehrbellin to de⯑liver this biller.

"Bearer—married—Mable Flouriſh." A ſtrange command this—but this I ſuppoſe his High⯑neſs wants to repleniſh his race of drummers.—Where, where is this Mable?

Here your honor—your honor leſt the key in your great trunk.

Well, I ſuppoſe you are both determined.

Yes, by the god of war—honor's my miſtreſs, and for her I'll die.

Well then, I'll ſend for a chaplain, and you ſhall both be married directly.

Married!

Yes, I am ordered by the Marſhal to ſee you both married.

I married to ſuch a ſhrimp of a man!—what does the Marſhal mean?

Yes, Darby has done my buſineſs for me.

What's your name?

Quiz Oddbody,

Then, Mrs Oddbody, I give you joy—and as a portion, his Highneſs has ordered you 50 rix-dollars out of the military cheſt.

Fifty rix-dollars! Oh, that alters the caſe— that's quite another thing.

I had no thought of marrying; but this is ſuch a prodigious great match—that I ſhall be proud to be Man of the Houſe.

Well, I ſhall have the fineſt booth in the Camp; and ſo let's to the Chapel.

Chapel! No, we will be married in a Ca⯑thedral —we will, by the god of war—And then for the—grand review.

SCENE The Outſide of a Cottage.

Softly, ſoftly, our Captain ſhall get her, my hoy—this is the place to watch for her—for that's her father's, the old ſoldier's—tho', it ſeems, her head runs of one Rupert.

Can't help laughing, to think little Quiz is now riding the big horſe.

Huſh—Huſh—here ſhe comes.—

Now Olmutz, there ſhe goes amongſt the buſhes— make haſte.

Won't you go?

My dear Olmutz, you ſhall have the glory of the action all yourſelf—I would not rob you of a ſingle laſh you raſcal.

I am glad you are come, Sir, for we are to have a grand review to-morrow—the Emperor ſeems prepared for hoſtile meaſures; therefore our wiſe and vigilant Maſter thinks it neceſſary to be prepared for to oppoſe them.

Oh, dear—where is Rupert to protect me?

Who's that running after a girl?—call him here, call the raſeal back.

Yes, your honor—Here Olmutz—come back his Highneſs want's you. Why don't you come back, you raſcal;—he's a very bad fellow, he would run af⯑ter the girl, notwithſtanding all I ſaid to him.

What have you been about? come here, you raſcal.

Ay, what have you been about?—come here, you raſcal.

Pleaſe Highneſs—corporal thought no harm to get pretty girl for officer—got her off tho'.

What officer, raſcal?

New Captain, Highneſs.

Me, ſirrah!

I thought Sir, I had found you different em⯑ployment.

Highneſs—very hard—order man to ride great horſe, 'cauſe he can't read.

Great horſe—I thought her a comely per⯑ſonable woman—Bur, Sir, to you I muſt ſay, that I am ſorry an officer ſhould be guilty of ſuch an act of [18]diſhonour—whoſe duty it is to protect—not to diſtreſs the fair.

Sir, give me leave.—

No, Sir, for the preſent I ſuſpend your com⯑miſſion; when his Majeſty arrives, he may uſe his pleaſure.

So then, Olmutz won't be puniſhed after all.

What Sir, arn't you married?

Not I, Highneſs.

Here, your Highneſs, comes a pretty couple that are married.

By the god of war, your Highneſs, I am come to thank you for all favours.

I thank your Highneſs for my huſband and great fortune.

Yes, your Highneſs, but mine's the biggeſt.

What is all this?

Your Highneſs deſired me to ſee the wedding —I have it from under your own hand—and there you are obey'd—behold your well match'd couple.

Yes, we're a pretty couple, by the god of war.

Begone Sir.

So, this is great horſe, raſcal?

I think, I had beſt take off too—or I may chance to run againſt a whipping poſt.

Well, Sir, you are from Ireland—where I know they would call this a good jeſt—and a joke is the leading feature of your country—I ſhall not on this oc⯑caſion, differ in opinion from you—but, Sir, the young woman you have ordered to be carried away, muſt be reſtored—and I hope your future conduct won't make me repent of the deſire I have to be your friend.

SCENE Mabel Flouriſhes.

Then it was you his Highneſs intended me for.

Yes, one of Darby's tricks—ſent me after Flo⯑ra —get her for officer.

Ay, Flora, and the poor girl is now in my room putting on a ſuit of officer's clothes that I lent her, to elude the inſults of the officers and ſoldiers, and vows ſhe'll go through the world, till ſhe find her ſweetheart Rupert.—Ay, Darby's a ſad villain, to loſe ſo fine a tall fellow for little Quiz.

Ay, to looſe me for him—be revenged—come to my centry-box—ſnug by ourſelves—foot of Bridge.

Oh, fie! Olmutz—But could I depend on your honor?

You may—ſome one coming—not ſeen toge⯑ther.

Fine woman—make Quiz be⯑lieve Darby made this match to cover his own deſigne on his wife.

Raſcal—I am told you know where Flora is that you have ſeized her.—Tell me of her this inſtant.

Darby did it, ran off with her for his Captain. Come this way—tell all I know, —now I ſhall be re⯑venged on Darby for loſs of wife—make him rine big horſe.

SCENE diſcovers NORAH.

Here I am at Jaſt in Sileſia—and how my coming muſt ſurprize my dear Patrick! But the more unexpected the more welcome our meeting.

Very well, honey, I ſee the door; ſo perhaps I may find the room myſelf—You muſt know that I am Father Luke of Carton; but I left it to fol⯑low Pat, becauſe I found he was come to Sileſia to have his full ſwing among the girls.

My dear, I have got a moſt delicious cordial.— Darby gave it me.

Darby! he's a pretty fellow—ſo keep your mouth ſhut.

No, I'll open it once more.

Is that your huſband!

Yes, I am,

Who married you?

The Parſon; but I'm obliged to Darby.— Darby help'd me to the match.

Faith, and he helped you plentifully. But, d'ye hear?—we would not have Captain Patrick know of our arrival 'till we come ſmack upon him. So, d'ye [22]hear—have you never a ſnug bit of a room in a corner, where you can put Norah?

O yes, there's my room, and a young woman in it already, that has been uſed ill by the ſoldiers.

Soldiers uſe women ill—who's the man of the houſe?

Ay, where's the man of the houſe?

If you can't ſee, put on your ſpectacles.

Faith and I muſt, for you are ſmall print.

Small print!

Come Norah—in—in—Mabel, my dear, pleaſe to ſhew the way.

Oh, ſir, loſe no time in finding out my huſband —only think of my anxiety.

Come here—what have you got in your ſquare bottle?

'Tis fine uſquebaugh—

Uſquebaugh! Where did you get it— From Drogheda?

No, I had it from Darby.

Then you had it from a wicked rogue,

arn't you aſhamed to aſk a clergyman to drink drams. 'Tis not good, nor it can't be good—

—nor it can't be wholeſome

Now, don't you be running your noſe into every neighbours— both up and down the town, and bragging that you have got father Luke in your houſe.

No, my greateſt pride is that I have got my⯑ſelt in the houſe.

Oh, that dam'd bell —I'll have drums and drumſticks placed in every room in the houſe—I will, by the god of war.

I fancy I ſhall ſoon get to the bottom of this, "For oh, it is heavenly liquor."

"And as good for me as the vicar."

Now, upon my ſoul, this is very comical, for you left me counting my beads in Ireland, and here you find me conning my book in Sileſia.

I think its my book you are conning; but if you pleaſe. I'll read a chapter now, for I ſuppoſe by this time you have it by heart.

Oh, Darby, you are a wicked fellow; the laſt time I ſaw you was at Carton—to be fure you was in mighty haſte, with the conſtables at your heels—but I did not think that you had ſo long a journey to take.

Conſtables! Oh, yes, very true—but I gave them the ſlip—I would not keep ſuch fellows com⯑pany.

Ah, Darby, you was always a very great ſcapegrace—a ſad dog.

Oh, now you talk about dogs, father Luke, pray did my little dog come back to the farm?

Your dog!

Ay, my Unicorn—we uſed to call him Uni⯑corn, you know, becauſe he had but one ear—I had him from an attorney.

Don't aſk me about your dog, you ſtupid fel⯑low —what's your dog to me?

Oh, he is not—now you'll hear.

But where's your niece, Norah—how does ſhe—is ſhe here, father?

Here! there's a queſtion—no, I left her at Potſdam.

And I ſaw her not half an hour ago—but I'll be even with him.

But, you ſly rogue, how did you find me out?— where's her huſband—have you ever met him in your walks—Pat, that run away?

Ah father! I am very ſorry to tell you ſuch bad news; but poor Pat's dead.

Dead!

Ay, ſad intelligence for poor Norah.

How did he die?

A piſtol fever—a bullet did the buſineſs.

A piſtol!—when?

Laſt night—Oh you're come time enough to preach the funeral ſermon.

Oh, oh, where ſhall I find comfort—oh!

In the book.

Oh dear—Pat dead—Norah—Norah!

Why, do you think ſhe can hear you at Potſ⯑dam?

Oh you harden'd ſoul, you.

I'm ſure you won't be harden'd while there's a drop to ſoften you.

A drop!—oh, you greedy creature, take the whole bottle. Poor Patt!

Harkey, you—do you know that I am a de⯑ſcendant of the great Hercules Quiz?—and as my great anceſtor ſtrangled a ſerpent in the cradle; ſo did I, when in mine, throttle a kitten—I was nurs'd in a mortar— have eat fire from a great gun—and made a cannon my flute, by blowing in at the touch-hole.

Amazing!—What a great hero—I am think⯑ing, Quiz that a wig-box will make an excellent cradle for your firſt child.

What do you mean by that, ſir?

Lord, how big we are—now I'd as lief a man would ſmack my face as call me ſir.

And I'd as ſoon do one as t'other if you'd give me occaſion—I only want occaſion to fight with you—I do, by the god of war.

I ſhould think a Pruſſian ſoldier would think raſcal ſufficient occaſion.

'I is by the god of war—where ſhall we meet?

By the new bridge—I'll borrow my maſter's piſtols—do you bring your's; and then, with ourbacks to the certry-boxes, we will thunder away.

We will—and Darby I'll blow your head over the bridge into the river, and ſave your dirty face a waſhing—I will, by the god of war.

And ſo you are father to this girl, you ſay.

Yes, and ſhe is engaged to one Rupert, a worthy fellow, who loves her; and captain Patrick's taking her away juſt at the time when he's come home, involves us all in great troub'e.

Who told you to?

Darby ſaid that Olmutz took her for the officer.

Oh, that Darby is a ſad lying, drunken fellow.— She's ſafe enough.—Norah, bring the young woman to her father.

Eh, what's the meaning of all this?—what have you been about there?—As I hope to live, you don't look like a Chriſtian young woman.

Do I look like a Chriſtian young man?—for that's what I want to look like.

But what's the reaſon of this?

To ſhew you a woman can run all riſques, where ſhe truly loves.

Bat why this metamorphoſes?

I was not ſafe in the abſence of Rupert—I have been inſulted as a female—ſo aſſumed this habit—being well aſſured, that thoſe who are ſo mean to inſult a woman, will want the courage to attack a man.

True, Flora.

So they have had their jokes upon me; but I'll be even with Pat—for giving himſelf out for dead —faith I'll have a little bit of a joke with him.

Arrah, and can you be Pat—or are you his ghoſt? Now if you are dead, my dear boy, tell me ſo.

Dead! What can this mean?

Faith Pat, it's well you are come; for we heald you was dead, and Norah has been looking out for another huſband—Aye, and if you had ſtaid half an hour longer, ſhe'd have had one, and a ſmart fellow he is too—and then he's ſo attentive, leading her into the coach and out of the coach, at every place we ſtopp'd at.

Dead! married in half an hour!

Aye, certainly, you would not have her live unmarried. Now ar'nt you a pretty fellow—I have heard of all your campaigning after a gooſeberry girl —the Marſhal putting you under an arreſt, and taking the cockade out of your hat.

Dear Sir, who told you this?

Who? why who but your own man Darby; and to crown the whole, ſaid that you had blown the roof off your head.

Maſter, lend me your piſtols.

Yes, you raſcal, you ſhall have them with a brace of bullets thro' your head. [Collars him] For all your lies—you told Father Luke, that I was run⯑ning after every wench—you are the cauſe of all my diſgrace, by ſetting Olmutz after the flower girl.

I—

Ay, Sir, what have you done with my Flora? —you are the villain that took my Flora from her father's houſe.

I—Oh dear, why did I ſell my farm?

Hey, what noiſe is all this—your making a diſturbance in this chamber is what I don't underſtand —damn me.

No, what I don't underſtand, damn me.

Pray where is Flora?

Oh, what my little ſtrawberry girl—ſhe's very fond of me, a young fellow, tho' her father wants to give her to a ſwaggering puppy—one Rupert.

S'death, take thy deſerts.

Oh, what, I ſuppoſe, this is Rupert.—Oh, you may have her again now—I'll gladly reſign her to you—I aſſure you I want to get rid of her—for my heart is entirely devoted to another.—This night, I take the lovely Norah to my arms.

You ſhall take this to your heart firſt.

Nay, nay—have patience.

Oh let him alone—let me have fair play, and I ſhall be a match for both of you.

So I go on well here in the German wars— My kind countryman, Captain Patrick—buries his nuckles in my throat, and never thinks it will ſpoil my ſinging; another ſwings a ſcythe about my ears;—and little Quiz threatens to blow my head over the bridge. Oh, to be ſure, I'm not in a good thriving way;—but I muſt contrive ſome method to frighten Quiz—for I muſt confeſs, I have no great inclination to have my head blown into the river.—Oh, dear, oh, dear!—I am like a blind fiddler, always in ſome ſerape.

SCENE, A country Bridge, a Centry BON on each Side.

Darby is not come yet, —I knew the fellow would be aſraid to meet me! How I'll diſgrace him in the campl I'll ſwitch him thro' the ranks with a whale-bone [31]ramrod—Eh—no—this is he—he's plaguy punctual.

Av, there's the enemy.

Your mortal foe—I am, by the god of war.

Put down the tools,

Tools—Take your ground.

Don't be raſh—in Ireland we always ſettle theſe ſort of things very cool—now to fix the grand point. When people fight, as you and I do, without ſeconds, if one ſhould be kill'd, as is always the caſe, that the conqueror may not fall a ſacrifice to the law— we have two ways of diſpoſing of the dead gentleman: —Now you may take which you pleaſe—one way is, we dig a hole on the ſpot, and cover him up, ſweet and wholeſome uncer the ſod—this we call the Galway kick—but it he don't like that, the other is—we put him into a ſack and tumble him into the river, this we call the Tipperary touch.

Tipperary touch—now damn me—if I'll have either a Galway kick, or a Tipperary touch.

And now give me the blunderbuſs—charged with razor blades.

Razor blades—I won't fight, by the god or war.

Not fight!

No.

Why then, let me tell you, that it is not hand⯑ſome of you to diſappoint me thus.

I don't care—I'll be as ugly as the devil—but I don't like to be put ſweet and wholeſome under the ſod.—Oh, I'm glad there's ſomebody coming.

Oh, this is the Prieſt, that I ordered to come and bury you like a chriſtian.

I don't care, I won't be buried like a Chriſtian.

Oh, you wicked reprobate—not be buried like a Chriſtian!

I won't, by the god of war.

What is all this about?

What! why that wicked bloody ruffian has a deſign aga [...]ſt [...]he chaſtity of my virtuous wife—and when I [...] him ou [...] a-la-militare, he comes to cut, ſcarity and murder me with a brace of blunder buſſen charged with razor blades—he does, by the god of war!

I a deſign!—'tis Olmutz has a deſign againſt your virtuous wife—and by her own appointment.—

No, he's my true friend.

Is he then—here goes at the centry box—I'll not bring my Razor blades for nothing.

Hey! now I ſee how it is, by the god of war!

Here's your true friend, and virtuous wife.

Darby your hand—Do you give Olmutz a Galway kick, and l'll give my wife a Tipperary touch.

Kick me!—Why, I came to be your ſecond.

Get out, you raſcal, or I'll ſhoot you, by the good of war!.—Well, and I ſuppoſe you came to be a ſecond too.

No, indeed, huſband, I was here firſt.

I dare be ſworn you was—ay, ſaith, now, this is very comical—here comes Pat, and Rupert—and their wives, as if they came by deſign.

The young bragg [...]rt—and with North in his hand—to come thus before my face—I can contain my⯑ſelf no longer—defend your worthleſs life.

No, ſir—I'll not fight—to you I reſign her, if ſhe's willing.

Moſt willing—my dear Patrick!

And to you Rupert I reſign myſelf—if Flora be worth accepting

Worth accepting—moſt dear to me.

My dear Patrick, why in a maze?

At this unexpected happineſs, my lovely wife—but now we'll for England—and if Darby will, [33]he ſhall attend us, where we'll return to the ſervice of our gracious ſovereign, whoſe life is a bleſſing to his people.