_Mrs. Brul._ I chuse it.

_Pereg._ Prepare your room, good folks; and get the best accommodation you can for this young person.

_Dennis._ That I will, with all my heart and soul, sir.

_Mrs. Brul._ [_Sulkily._] I don't know that we have any room at all, for my part.

_Dennis._ Whew! She's in her tantrums.

_Mrs. Brul._ People of repute can't let in young women (found upon a heath, forsooth), without knowing who's who. I have learn'd the ways of the world, sir.

_Pereg._ So it seems:--which too often teach you to over-rate the little good you can do in it: and to shut the door when the distressed entreat you to throw it open. But I have learnt the ways of the world too. [_Taking out his Purse._] I shall return in a few hours. Provide all the comforts you can; and here are a couple of guineas, to send for any refreshments you have not in the house.

[_Giving Money._

_Dennis._ Mighty pretty handsel for the Red Cow, my lambkin!

_Mrs. Brul._ A couple of guineas! Lord, sir! if I thought you had been such a gentleman!--Pray, miss, walk in! your poor dear, little feet must be quite wet with our nasty roads. I beg pardon, sir; but character's every thing in our business; and I never lose sight of my own credit.

_Dennis._ That you don't--till you see other people's ready money.

_Pereg._ Go in, child. I shall soon be with you again.

_Mary._ You _will_ return, then, sir?

_Pereg._ Speedily. Rely on me.

_Mary._ I shall, sir;--I am sure I may. Heaven bless you, sir!

_Mrs. Brul._ This way, miss; this way! [_Courtesying._ [_Exeunt MARY and LANDLADY, into the House._

_Dennis._ Long life to your honour, for protecting the petticoats!

sweet creatures! I'd like to protect them myself, by bushels.

_Pereg._ Can you get me a guide, friend, to conduct me to Penzance?

_Dennis._ Get you a guide! There's Dan, my servant, shall skip before you over the bogs, like a gra.s.shopper. Oh, by the powers! my heart's full to see your generosity, and I owe you a favour in return:--never you call for any of my beer, till I get a fresh tap.

[_Exit into the House._

_Pereg._ Now for my friend, Thornberry; then hither again, to interest myself in the cause of this unfortunate: for which many would call me Quixote; many would cant out "shame!" but I care not for the stoics, nor the puritans. Genuine nature and unsophisticated morality, that turn disgusted from the rooted adepts in vice, have ever a reclaiming tear to shed on the children of error. Then, let the sterner virtues, that allow no plea for human frailty, stalk on to paradise without me! The mild a.s.sociate of my journey thither shall be charity:--and my pilgrimage to the shrine of mercy will not, I trust, be worse performed for having aided the weak, on my way, who have stumbled in their progress.

_Enter DAN, from the House._

_Dan._ I be ready, zur.

_Pereg._ For what, friend?

_Dan._ Measter says you be a-going to Penzance; if you be agreeable, I'll keep you company.

_Pereg._ Oh--the guide. You belong to the house?

_Dan._ Ees, zur; Ise enow to do: I be head waiter and hostler:--only we never have no horses, nor customers.

_Pereg._ The path I fancy, is difficult to find. Do you never deviate?

_Dan._ Na, zur,--I always whistles.

_Pereg._ Come on, friend.--It seems a dreary rout: but how cheerily the eye glances over a sterile tract, when the habitation of a benefactor, whom we are approaching to requite, lies in the perspective! [_Exeunt._

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

_A Library in the House of SIR SIMON ROCHDALE; Books scattered on a Writing Table._

_Enter TOM SHUFFLETON._

_Shuff._ No body up yet? I thought so.

_Enter SERVANT._

Ah, John, is it you? How d'ye do, John?

_John._ Thank your honour, I----

_Shuff._ Yes, you look so. Sir Simon Rochdale in bed? Mr. Rochdale not risen? Well! no matter; I have travelled all night, though, to be with them. How are they?

_John._ Sir, they are both----

_Shuff._ I'm glad to hear it. Pay the postboy for me.

_John._ Yes, sir. I beg pardon, sir; but when your honour last left us----

_Shuff._ Owed you three pound five. I remember: have you down in my memorandums--Honourable Tom Shuffleton debtor to---- What's your name?

_John._ My christian name, sir, is----

_Shuff._ Muggins--I recollect. Pay the postboy, Muggins. And, harkye, take particular care of the chaise: I borrowed it of my friend, Bobby Fungus, who sprang up a peer, in the last bundle of Barons: if a single k.n.o.b is knocked out of his new coronets, he'll make me a sharper speech than ever he'll produce in parliament. And, John!

_John._ Sir!

_Shuff._ What was I going to say?

_John._ Indeed, sir, I can't tell.