Let me see ~ on the fifteenth of June, at half an hour past five in the morning (taking out a pocket-book) I left my father's house unknown to any one, having made free with a coat and jacket of our gardener's which fitted me, by way of a disguise: ~ so says my pocket book; and chance directing me to this village, on the twentieth of the same month I procured a recommendation to the worshipful Justice Woodcock, to be the superintendant of his pumpkins and cabbages, because I would let my father see I chose to run any lengths rather than submit to what his obstinacy would have forced me, a marriage against my inclination, with a woman I never saw. (puts up the book, and takes a watering-pot). Here I have been three weeks, and in that time I am as much altered as if I had changed my nature with my habit. 'Sdeath, to fall in love with a chambermaid! And yet, if I could forget that I am the son and heir of Sir William Meadows ~ but that's impossible.  

Hah! who was it I had a glimpse of as I past by that arbour? was it not she sat reading there? the trembling of my heart tells me my eyes were not mistaken ~ here she comes.  

I am determined I won't speak to her (turning to a rose tree, and plucking the flowers).

Now or never is the time to conquer myself: besides, I have some reason to believe the girl has no aversion to me, and as I wish not to do her an injury, it would be cruel to fill her head with notions of what can never happen (hums a tune).

Psha; rot these roses, how they prick one's fingers.

Hah, going without a word! a look! ~ I can't bear that ~ Mrs. Rossetta, I am gathering a few roses here, if you'll please to take them in with you.

Will you accept of them for yourself, then, (catching hold of her) What's the matter? you look as if you were angry with me.

Nay, pr'ythee, why is this? you shan't go, I have something to say to you.

This girl is a riddle ~ that she loves me I think there is no room to doubt; she takes a thousand opportunities to let me see it, and yet when I speak to her, she will hardly give me an answer, and if I attempt the smallest familiarity, is gone in an instant ~ I feel my passion for her grow every day more and more violent ~ well, would I marry her? would I make a mistress of her if I could? Two things, called prudence and honour, forbid either. What am I pursuing, then? a shadow. Sure my evil genius laid this snare in my way. However, there is one comfort, it is in my power to fly from it; if so, why do I hesitate? I am distracted, unable to determine any thing.  

House here, house; what all gadding, all abroad! house I say, hilli ho ho!  

Am I here, yes: and if you had been where I was three hours ago, you would find the good effects of it by this time: but you have got the lazy, unwholsome London fashion, of lying a bed in a morning, and there's gout for you ~ why, Sir, I have not been in bed five minutes after sun-rise these thirty years, am generally up before it; and I never took a dose of physic but once in my life, and that was in compliment to a cousin of mine, an apothecary, that had just set up business.

What, when I maintain the contrary! ~ Look you, neighbour Woodcock, you are a rich man, a man of worship, a Justice of peace, and all that; but learn to know the respect that is due to the sound from the infirm; and allow me the superiority a good constitution gives me over you ~ health is the greatest of all possessions, and 'tis a maxim with me, that an hail cobler is a better man than a sick king.

And so would you too, if you would take my advice. A sportsman! why there is nothing like it: I would not exchange the satisfaction I feel while I am beating the lawns and thickets about my little farm, for all the entertainments and pageantry in Christendom.

Did your worship call, sir?  

Lord your honour look out, and see what a nice shew they make yonder; they had got pipers, and fidlers, and were dancing as I com'd along for dear life ~ I never saw such a mortal throng in our village in all my born days again.

Why I like this now, this is as it should be.

Come come, never mind the act, let me tell you this is a very proper, a very useful meeting; I want a servant or two myself, I must go see what your market affords; ~ and you shall go, and the girls, my little Lucy and the other young rogue, and we'll make a day on't as well as the rest.

Right, neighbour Woodcock! health, good humour, and competence is my motto: and if my executors have a mind, they are welcome to make it my epitaph.

Who calls? here am I.

Been, ay I ha' been far enough, an that be all: you never knew any thing fall out so crossly in your born days.

Why you know, I dare not take a horse out of his worship's stables this morning, for fear it should be missed, and breed questions; and our old nag at home was so cruelly beat i'th'hoofs, that, poor beast, it had not a foot to set to ground; so I was fain to go to farmer Ploughshare's, at the Grange, to borrow the loan of his bald filly: and wou'd you think it? after walking all that way ~ de'el from me, if the cross-grain'd toad, did not deny me the favour.

Well, then I went my ways to the King's head in the village, but all their cattle were at plough: and I was as far to seek below at the turnpike: so at last, for want of a better, I was forced to take up with dame Quickset's blind mare.

Yes, yes, I ha' been.

Ay, but I have had a main tiresome jaunt on't, for she is but a sorry jade at best ~

Yes, he gave me a letter, if I ha' na' lost it.

Nay, nay, have a bit of patience, adwawns, you are always in such a hurry

(rummaging his pockets)

I put it somewhere in this waistcoat pocket. Oh here it is.

Lord-a-mercy! how my arm achs with beating that plaguy beast; I'll be hang'd if I won'na' rather ha'thrash'd half a day, than ha' ridden her.

Well, have not I now?

Ay ay.

That's enough.

I warrant you.

Never fear me.

What does the wench follow me for? Odds flesh, folk may well talk, to see you dangling after me every where, like a tantony pig; find some other road can't you; and don't keep wherreting me with your nonsense.  

Well; what fayn you?

Why no I won't, I tell you; I have chang'd my mind.

Obligated in conscience! how am I obligated?

Bring you to shame! don't make me speak, Madge, don't make me speak.

Why then if you go to that, you were fain to leave your own village down in the west, for a bastard you had by the clerk of the parish, and I'll bring the man shall say it to your face.

How should you know what she's fit for, she's fit for as much as you mayhap; don't find fault with your betters, Madge. (seeing young Meadows) Oh! master Thomas, I have a word or two to say to you; pray did not you go down the village one day last week with a basket of somewhat upon your shoulder?

Well, and what then?  

Nay, not much, only the ostler at the Greenman was saying as how there was a passenger at their house, as see'd you go by, and said he know'd you; and axt a mort of questions ~ so I thought I'd tell you.

The devil! ask questions about me! I know nobody in this part of the country; there must be some mistake in it ~ come hither Hodge

This way, your worship, this way. Why don't you stand aside there? Here's his worship a coming.  

For shame, neighbour. Well, my lad, are you willing to serve the king?

Well said, sturdy-boots.

I would have them do so, I like they should. ~ Well, madam, is not this a fine sight? I did not know my neighbour's estate had been so well peopled ~ are all these his own tenants?

There's a lass (beckoning a country girl). Come hither my pretty maid. What brings you here? (chucking her under the chin). Do you come to look for a service?

Well, and what place are you for?

Here's another (catching a girl that goes by). What health, what bloom! ~ This is nature's work; no art, no daubing. Don't be ashamed, child; those cheeks of thine are enough to put a whole drawing-room out of countenance.

Now your honour, now the sport will come. The gut-scrapers are here, and some among them are going to sing and dance. Why, there's not the likes of our statute, mun, in five counties; others are but fools to it.