ACT I. SCENE I.

NEVER tell me, Sir, of Don Quixote, or Don Beelzebub; here's a Man comes into my Houſe, and eats me out on't, and then tells me he's a Knight-Errant; he is an arrant Rogue, and if he does not pay me my Bill, I'll have a War⯑rant for him.

My Maſter fears no Warrant, Friend; had you ever been in Spain, you would have known that Men of his Order are above the Law.

Tell not me of Spain, Sir; I am an Engliſhman, where no one is above the Law; and if your Maſter does not pay me, I ſhall lay his Spaniardſhip faſt in a Place, which he ſhall find it as difficult to get out of, as your Countrymen have found it to get into Gibraltar.

That's neither here nor there, as the old Saying is; many are ſhut into one Place, and out of another. Men bar Houſes to keep Rogues out, and Jails to keep them in. He that's hang'd for ſtealing a Horſe to-day, has no reaſon to buy Oats for him to-morrow.

Sirrah, your Horſe, nor your Aſs neither, ſhall have any more Oats at my Expence; never were Maſters and their Beaſts ſo like one another. The Don is juſt ſuch another lean Ramſcallion as his—what d'ye call him—his Rozinante; and thou art juſt ſuch another ſquat Bag of Guts as thy Dapple. Send my Houſe and my Stable once well emptied of you, and if ever I ſuffer a Spaniard to enter my Doors again, may I have a whole Company of Soldiers quartered on me; for if I muſt be eaten up, I had rather ſuffer by my own Country Rogues, than foreign ones.

[3]

SCENE II.

Sancho!

An't pleaſe your Honour—

Come hither, Sancho, I ſmell an Adventure.

And ſo do I, an't pleaſe your Worſhip; the Landlord of the Houſe ſwears bitterly that he will have a Warrant againſt us.

What Landlord! What Houſe! Wilt thou never be in thy Senſes? Are we not in a Caſtle?

No, marry are we not; but we are in a fair way to be in one.

What doſt thou mean, Oaf?

I mean that I ſhall ſee your Honour in a Goal within theſe two Days.

Me in a Goal! Ha! Caitif!

Ay, Sir, we are got into a terrible Country. A Man's Quality here can't defend him, if he breaks the Laws.

Then indeed Knight-Errantry were of no Uſe: But I tell thee, Caitif, Goals in all Countries are only Habitations for the Poor, not for Men of Quality. If a poor Fellow robs a Man of Faſhion of Five Shillings, to Goal with him: But the Man of Faſhion may plunder a thouſand Poor, and ſtay in his own Houſe. But know, thou baſe Squire of the great Don Quixote de la Mancha, that an Adventure now preſents it ſelf, not only worthy me, but the united Force of all the Knights upon Earth.

Ah, poor Sancho! there's an end of thee, a Leg or an Arm will not ſuffice this Bout.

There is now arrived in this Caſtle, one of the moſt accurſed Giants that ever infeſted the Earth. He marches at the Head of his Army, that howl like Turks in an Engagement.

Oh Lud! Oh Lud! this is the Country Squire at the Head of his Pack of Dogs.

What doſt thou mutter, Varlet?

Why, Sir, this Giant that your Worſhip talks of, is a Country Gentleman who is going a courting, and his Army is neither more nor leſs than his Kennel of Fox-Hounds.

Oh, the prodigious Force of Inchantment! Sirrah, I tell thee this is the Giant Toglogmoglogog, Lord of the Iſland of Gogmogog, whoſe Belly hath been the Tomb of above a thouſand ſtrong Men.

Of above a thouſand Hogſheads of ſtrong Beer, I be⯑lieve.

This muſt be the Inchanter Merlin, I know him by his Dogs; but, thou Idiot! doſt thou imagine that Women are to be hunted like Hares, that a Man would carry his Hounds with him to viſit his Miſtreſs?

Sir, your true Engliſh Squire and his Hounds are as in⯑ſeparable as your Spaniſh and his Toledo. He eats with his Hounds, drinks with his Hounds, and lies with his Hounds; your true Errant Engliſh Squire is but the firſt Dog-Boy in his Houſe.

'Tis pity then, that Fortune ſhould contradict the Or⯑der of Nature. It was a wiſe Inſtitution of Plato to educate Children according to their Minds, not to their Births; theſe Squires ſhould ſow that Corn which they ride over. Sancho, when I ſee a Gentleman in his own Coach-box, I regret the Loſs which ſome one has had of a Coachman; the Man who toils all Day after a Partridge or a Pheaſant, might ſerve his Country by toiling after a Plough; and when I ſee a low, mean, tricking Lord, I lament the Loſs of an excellent At⯑torney.

But, hark, ſome courteous Lady in the Caſtle prepares an Entertainment for my Ears.

[6]

SCENE III.

Moſt illuſtrious and moſt mighty Lord, how ſhall I ſufficiently pay you for thoſe Sounds with which I have been raviſh'd?

Sir, I deſire no other Payment but of this ſmall Bill; your Worſhip's Cattle are ſaddled, and it is a charming Day for travelling.

Nothing, my Lord, ſhall ever tempt me to leave you, till what I have this Day ſeen within the Caſtle-Walls be utter⯑ly demoliſhed.

So! he has ſeen the Sirloin of Beef at the Fire, I find.

—But if your Worſhip intends to ſtay any longer, I hope you deſign to ſatisfy this ſmall Matter here: I am in great Neceſſity, I aſſure you.

To what mean Actions does Neceſſity force Men! That ever a mighty Lord ſhould be obliged to borrow Money!

I am aſham'd to ask your Worſhip ſo often for this Trifle, but—

My Lord, I ſee you are; I ſee the generous Confuſion which ſpreads your Face.

I am ſo poor, an't pleaſe your Honour, that it will be quite Charity in you. It is the ſame as if you gave it me.

My Lord, I am more confus'd than you; but do not think it a Gift, ſince I ſee you ſo backward to receive it in that Light. And ſince, my Lord, every thing I have, ſaving to the charming Dulcinea del Toboſo, her fixt and unalterable Right, be juſtly yours. Give me leave to call it a Debt, my Lord. Sancho, pay his Lordſhip a thouſand Engliſh Guineas.

If your Worſhip will pleaſe to tell me where I ſhall get them; but there's no paying with an empty Hand; where nothing is, nothing can come on't. Twelve Lawyers make not one honeſt Man.

Ceaſe thy Impertinence, and pay the Money immedi⯑ately.

If I have ſeen the Colour of Gold this Fortnight, may I never ſee Tereſa Pancha again.

I am confounded, my Lord, at the Extravagance of my Squire, who, out of the Spoils of ſo many Giants he hath plunder'd, ſhould not have reſerv'd enough to oblige your Lord⯑ſhip with ſuch a Trifle; but, if you know any one who will diſemburſe that Sum, or any other, I will ſell him the Rever⯑ſion of the next Iſland I conquer.

Do you make a Jeſt of me, Sir?

Be not incens'd; I am ſorry I am not able to give it you.

Sorry, forſooth! a pretty way of paying Debts, truly; I fanſy if I was to tell the Exciſeman, and my Brewer, I was ſorry I could not pay 'em, they would ſend me and my Sorrow to Goal together: In ſhort, Sir, I muſt and I will have my Money.

You muſt get the Philoſophers Stone, before you can make any Money of us.

You ſhall neither eat nor drink any more in my Houſe, 'till I am paid, that I'm reſolv'd.

I wiſh your Worſhip would think of changing your Quarters; if it muſt be a Balnketing, why let it be a Blanket⯑ing. I have not eat any thing theſe twelve Hours; and I don't find I am like to fare much better for the next twelve; and by that time I ſhall be ſo light, you may as well toſs a Feather in a Blanket.

Sancho, come hither; I intend to make thee my Am⯑baſſador.

Why truly, Sir, that's a Poſt I ſhould like hugeouſly well; your Baſſadours lead rare fat Lives, they ſay; and I ſhould make a very good Baſſadour, I can aſſure your Worſhip.

Thou ſhalt go my Ambaſſador to the Court of Dulci⯑nea del Toboſo.

I ſuppoſe it is equal to your Worſhip what Court you ſend me to; and, to ſay the Truth, I had rather go to ſome other; for tho' my Lady Dulcinea be a very good Woman, yet ſhe has got ſuch a waundy Trick of being chanted, and I fanſy your Baſſadours fare but ill at your chanted Courts.

Reptile! reply not on thy Life, but go and prepare thy ſelf for thy Journey; then come to me and receive farther Inſtructions, for thou ſhalt ſet out this very Evening.—But, Ha! the charming Voice begins again.

Unhappy Princeſs!

In this Arm 'tis found. Look forth, moſt adorable, tho' moſt unhappy Princeſs; look forth, and behold whom Fate hath ſent to your Relief; the moſt renowned Knight of the woful Figure, the invincible Don Quixote de la Mancha, for whoſe victorious Arm alone this Adventure is reſerv'd.— Oh curſed Inchanter, doſt thou keep this charming Princeſs in⯑viſible to my Eyes? Open the Caſtle-Gates, open them this Inſtant, whoever is on the Guard, or you ſhall feel the Force of my Attack. You ſhall find, Caitifs, that one ſingle Knight is too many for you all.

SCENE IV.

Heyday! What, in the Devil's Name, are you doing? What, do you intend to beat down my Houſe?

Thou moſt uncourteous Lord, deliver the Princeſs whom thou ſo unjuſtly doſt detain; or think not that all the Inchanters on Earth ſhall preſerve thee from my Vengeance.

Don't tell me of Princeſſes and Lords, I'm no Lord, I am an honeſt Man; and I can tell you, you may be a Gentle⯑man, but you don't act like one, to break a poor Man's Win⯑dows in this manner.

Deliver the Princeſs, Caitif.

Pay me my Bill, Sir, and go out of my Houſe, or I'll fetch a Warrant for you; I'll ſee whether a Man is to have his Victuals eat up, and Drink drank out, and Windows broke, and his Walls ſhatter'd, and his Gueſt diſturb'd, for no⯑thing.

Ungracious Knight! who ſo often throweſt in my Teeth that ſmall Entertainment, which thou art oblig'd to give Men of my heroick Profeſſion.

I believe, indeed, your Profeſſion does oblige People ſometimes to give, whether they will or no.

It is too plain, thou Wretch, why thou wouldeſt have me gone; thou knoweſt the Delivering of this high Lady thou doſt detain, is reſerved for me alone; but deliver her this Mo⯑ment, with all her Attendants, all her Plate and Jewels which thou haſt robb'd her of.

Hear this, Neighbours, I am accus'd of ſtealing Plates and Jewels, when every Body knows I have but five Dozen of Plates, and thoſe I bought and paid for honeſtly; and as for Jewels, the Devil of any Jewels are there in this Houſe, but two Bobs that my Wife wears in her Ears, which were given her by Sir Thomas Loveland at his laſt Election.

Ceaſe thy Equivocations, and deliver them this Inſtant, or thou ſhalt find how vainly thou doſt truſt to all thoſe Giants at thy Heels.

Do you mock me, Caitifs? Now, thou moſt incomparable Dulcinea del Toboſo, aſſiſt thy valiant Knight.

SCENE V.

Ha, ha, ha! in ſpite of all my Misfortunes, I cannot help laughing at the pleaſant Adventure of the Knight of the woful Figure.

Do you think, Madam, this is the very ſame Don—; what d'ye call him, whom your Father ſaw in Spain, and of whom he has told us ſuch pure pleaſant Stories?

The ſame, it can be no other. Oh, Jezebel! I wiſh my Adventure may end as happily as thoſe of my Name-ſake Dorothea's did; I am ſure they are very near as romantick: But have not I reaſon to blame Fairlove for ſuffering me to be here before him? The Lover that does not outfly his Miſtreſs's Deſires, is ſlow indeed.

And let me tell you, Madam, he muſt be very ſwift who does.

[12]

Well, I'm a mad Girl: Don't you think this Husband of mine, that is to be, will have a delightful Task to tame me?

By what I can ſee, he's in a pretty fair way to be tamed himſelf.

SCENE VI.

Pray, Ladies, which of you is the chanted Princeſs; or are you both chanted Princeſſes?

What is it to you what we are, Saucebox?

Peace, dear Jezebel.— This muſt be the illuſtrious Sancho himſelf.—I am the Princeſs Indoccalambria.

My Maſter, the Knight of the Woful Figure (and a woful Figure he makes, ſure enough) ſends your Ladyſhip his humble Service, and hopes you will not take it amiſs that he has not been able to knock all the People in the Houſe on the Head; however, he has made it pretty well up in breaking the Windows; your Ladyſhip will lie pure and cool, for the Devil a whole Pane is there in all your Apartment; if the Gla⯑zier had hir'd him, he cou'd not have done better.

Thou mighty Squire of the moſt mighty Knight upon Earth, give my grateful Thanks to your Maſter for what he has undertaken upon my Account; but tell him not to get his precious Bones bruis'd any more, for I am ſufficiently aſ⯑ſur'd this Adventure is reſerv'd for ſome other Knight.

Nay, nay, like enough; all Men cannot do all things; one Man gets an Eſtate, by what another gets a Halter. All is not Fiſh that ſwims. Many a Man wants a Wife, but more want to get rid of one. Two Cuckolds ſee each other's Horns when neither of them can ſee his own. Money is the Fruit of Evil, as often as the Root of it. Charity ſeldom goes out of her own Houſe; and Ill-nature is always a rambling abroad. Every Woman is a Beauty, if you will believe her own Glaſs; and few, if you will believe her Neighbours.

Ha, ha, ha! Pray, Mr. Sancho, might not one hope to ſee your illuſtrious Maſter?

Nothing would rejoice his Heart ſo much, Madam, unleſs it were to ſee my Lady Dulcinea herſelf. Ah, Ma⯑dam, might I hope your Ladyſhip would ſpeak a good Word for me?

Name it, and be aſſur'd of any thing in my Power, honeſt Sancho.

If your Princeſs-ſhip could but prevail on my Maſter, that I might not be ſent home after my Lady Dulcinea; for, to tell you the Truth, Madam, I am ſo fond of the Engliſh roſt Beef and ſtrong Beer, that I don't intend ever to ſet my Foot in Spain again, if I can help it: Give me a Slice of roſt Beef before all the Rarities of Camacho's Wedding.

Bravely ſaid, noble Squire.

I have been told, noble Squire, that you once impos'd a certain Lady for Dulcinea on your Maſter; now what think [15] you if this young Lady here ſhould perſonate that incomparable Princeſs?

Who, I?

Adod! your Princeſs-ſhip has hit it; for he has never ſeen this Dulcinea, nor has any body elſe that I can hear of; and who my Lady Dulcinea ſhould be, I don't know, unleſs ſhe be one of your chanted Ladies: The Curate of our Pariſh, and Mr. Nicholas the Barber, have often told me there was no ſuch Woman, and that my Maſter was a Madman; and ſometimes I am half at a loſs to gueſs whether he be mad or no. I'm ſure, if it was not for the ſake of a little Iſland that I am to govern, I ſhould not have follow'd his Errantries ſo long.

Fy, do not entertain ſuch unworthy Thoughts of that moſt glorious Knight.

Nay, Madam, I can't find in my Heart to think him mad neither; for he will talk ſometimes, 'twould do one good to hear him talk; he will talk ye three Hours, and I ſhan't un⯑derſtand one Word he ſays. Our Curate was a Fool to e'en; and yet he has talk'd what I could not underſtand neither, but that's neither here nor there; an empty Purſe cauſes a full Heart; an old Woman's a very bad Bribe, but a very good Wife; Conſcience often ſtops at a Molehill, and leaps over a Mountain; the Law guards us from all Evil but itſelf; what's Vice to-day is Virtue to-morrow; 'tis not only Plumbs that make a Pudding; Phyſick makes you firſt ſick, and then well; Wine firſt makes you well, and then ſick.

And your Proverbs would make the Devil ſick.

Loſe no time, good Sancho, but acquaint the moſt in⯑vincible Knight that the Lady Dulcinea is in the Caſtle; we'll ma⯑nage the matter ſo dexterouſly, you ſhall be in no danger of a Diſcovery.

Since my bringing the laſt Dulcinea to him, I do not fear that; he that can ſwallow a Gooſe will hardly keck at a Gander; the Bear may well dance when the Aſs plays on the Fiddle.

SCENE VII.

Ha, ha, ha! Well, for the future, I will never disbe⯑lieve a Traveller; the Knight and his Squire are full as ridicu⯑lous as they were deſcrib'd: We ſhall have rare Diverſion.

Poor Fairlove! thou art quite forgotten.

I've rather reaſon to think Dorothea ſo: I am ſure, when a Lover ſuffers his Miſtreſs to come firſt to the Place of Appointment, he cannot blame any innocent Amuſement with which ſhe would ſhorten his Abſence; and to confeſs a Truth to you, while I am ſtill under Apprehenſions of the Match my Father intends for me, I have too great Cauſe to try to divert my Grief.

SCENE VIII.

Well, Neighbour, what's your Opinion of this ſtrange Man that is come to Town, Don Quixote, as he calls him⯑ſelf?

Think! why, that he's a Madman. What ſhou'd I think?

'Ecod! it runs in my Head that he is come to ſtand for Parliament-man.

How can that be, Neighbour, they tell me he's a Spa⯑niard?

What's that to us? Let him look to his Qualifications when we have choſe him. If he can't ſit in the Houſe, that's his Fault.

Nay, nay, he can't be choſe if he ſhould ſtand; for, to my certain Knowledge, the Corporation have promis'd Sir Tho⯑mas Loveland and Mr. Bouncer.

Pugh! all Promiſes are conditional; and let me tell you, Mr. Retail, I begin to ſmoke a Plot. I begin to appre⯑hend no Oppoſition, and then we're ſold, Neighbour.

No, no, Neighbour; then we ſhall not be ſold, and that's worſe: But rather than it ſhould come to that, I would ride all over the Kingdom for a Candidate; and if I thought Sir Thomas intended to ſteal us in this manner, he ſhould have no Vote of mine, I aſſure you. I ſhall vote for no Man who holds the Corporation cheap.

Then ſuppoſe we were to go in a Body, and ſolicit Sir Don Quixote to ſtand? As for his being mad, while he's out of Bedlam it does not ſignify.

But there is another Objection, Neighbour, which I am afraid the Corporation will never get over.

What's that, pr'ythee?

They ſay he has brought no Money with him.

Ay, that indeed: But tho' he hath no Money with him here, I am aſſur'd by his Servant that he hath a very large [18] Eſtate: And ſo, if the other Party come down handſomly with the Ready, we may truſt him; for you know, at laſt, we have nothing to do but not to chooſe him, and then we may recover all he owes us.

I do not care to be ſold, Neighbour.

Nor I neither, Neighbour, by any but myſelf. I think that is the Privilege of a free Briton.

SCENE X.

Mr. Mayor, a good Morrow to you, Sir; are you for a Whet, this Morning?

With all my Heart; but what's become of the Gentle⯑man, the Traveller?

He's laid down to ſleep, I believe; pretty well tired with Work. What the Devil to do with him, I can't tell.

My Neighbour and I have a ſtrange Thought come in⯑to our Heads; you know, Mr. Guzzle, we are like to have no Oppoſition, and that I believe you will feel the want of, as much as any Man. Now, d'ye ſee, we have taken it into Conſideration, whether we ſhould not ask this Sir Don to re⯑preſent us.

With all my Heart; if either of you will hang out a Sign and entertain him; but he is far enough in my Books al⯑ready.

You are too cautious, Maſter Guzzle; I make no doubt but he is ſome very rich Man, who pretends to be poor in order to get his Election the cheaper; he can have no other Deſign in ſtaying among us. For my part, I make no doubt but that he is come to ſtand on the Court Intereſt.

Nay, nay, if he ſtands at all, it is on the Court Side, no doubt; for he talks of nothing but Kings, and Princes, and Princeſſes, and Emperors, and Empreſſes.

Ay, ay, an Officer in the Army too, I warrant him, if we knew but the bottom.

He ſeems, indeed, to be damnably ſond of Free-Quar⯑ter.

But if you think he intends to offer himſelf, would it not be wiſer to let him; for then, you know, if he ſpends ne⯑ver ſo much, we ſhall not be oblig'd to chooſe him.

Brother Alderman, I have reproved you already for that way of Reaſoning; it ſavours too much of Bribery. I like an Oppoſition, becauſe otherwiſe a Man may be oblig'd to vote againſt his Party; therefore when we invite a Gentleman to ſtand, we invite him to ſpend his Money for the Honour of his Party; and when both Parties have ſpent as much as they are able, every honeſt Man will vote according to his Con⯑ſcience.

Mr. Mayor talks like a Man of Senſe and Honour, and it does me good to hear him.

Ay, ay, Mr. Guzzle, I never gave a Vote contrary to my Conſcience. I have very earneſtly recommended the Coun⯑try-Intereſt to all my Brethren: But before that, I recommend⯑ed the Town-Intereſt, that is, the Intereſt of this Corporation; and firſt of all I recommended to every particular Man to take a particular Care of himſelf. And it is with a certain way of Reaſoning, That he that ſerves me beſt, will ſerve the Town beſt; and he that ſerves the Town beſt, will ſerve the Country beſt.

See what it is to have been at Oxford; the Parſon in the Pariſh himſelf can't out-talk him.

Come, Landlord, we'll have one Bottle, and drink Succeſs to the Corporation: Theſe Times come but ſeldom, therefore we ought to make the beſt of them. Come along.

ACT II. SCENE I.

THOU haſt, by this time, fully perceiv'd, Sancho, the extreme Difficulties and Dangers of Knight-Er⯑rantry.

Ay, and of 'Squire-Errantry too, an't pleaſe your Worſhip.

But Virtue is its own Reward.

Your Worſhip may have a Reliſh for theſe Rewards, perhaps; but to ſpeak truly, I am a poor plain Man, and know nothing of theſe fine things; and for any Reward I have hither⯑to got, I had much rather have gone without it. As for an Iſland, I believe I could reliſh it as well as another; but a Man may catch cold while his Coat is making: And ſince you may provide for me in a much eaſier way, if I might be ſo bold as to ſpeak—

Thou knoweſt I will deny thee nothing, which is fit for me to give, or thee to take.

Then if your Worſhip wou'd be ſo good as to ſet me up in an Inn, I ſhould make a rare Landlord; and it is a very thriving Trade among the Engliſh.

And couldſt thou deſcend ſo low, ignoble Wretch?

Any thing to get an honeſt Livelihood, which is more than I find we are like to do in the way we are going on: For, if I durſt ſpeak it—

Speak fearleſly.—I will only impute it to thy Igno⯑rance.

Why then I find, Sir, that we are look'd on here to be, neither more nor leſs, better or worſe, than a couple of Mad⯑men.

Sancho, I am not concern'd at the evil Opinion of Men. Indeed, if we conſider who are their Favourites, we ſhall have no reaſon to be ſo fond of their Applauſe. Virtue, Sancho, is too bright for their Eyes, and they dare not behold her. Hypocriſy is the Deity they worſhip. Is not the Lawyer often call'd an honeſt Man, when for a ſneaking Fee he pleads the Villain's Cauſe, or attempts to extort Evidence to the Con⯑viction of the Innocent? Does not the Phyſician live well in his Neighbourhood, while he ſuffers them to bribe his Igno⯑rance to their Deſtruction? But why ſhould I mention thoſe whoſe Profeſſion 'tis to prey on others? Look thro' the World, What is it recommends Men, but the Poverty, the Vice, and the Miſery of others? This, Sancho, they are ſenſible of, and therefore, inſtead of endeavouring to make himſelf better, each Man endeavours to make his Neighbour worſe. Each Man ri⯑ſes to Admiration by treading on Mankind. Riches and Power accrue to the One, by the Deſtruction of Thouſands. Theſe are the general Objects of the good Opinion of Men: Nay, and that which is profeſs'd to be paid to Virtue, is ſeldom more to any thing than a ſupercilious Contempt of our Neighbour. What is a good-natur'd Man? Why, one, who ſeeing the Want of his Friend, cries he pities him. Is this real? No: If it was, he would relieve him. His Pity is triumphant Ar⯑rogance and Inſult: It ariſes from his Pride, not from his Compaſſion. Sancho, let them call me mad; I'm not mad e⯑nough to court their Approbation.

Oh! good your Worſhip, proceed: I could faſt an Hour longer to hear your Diſcourſe.

SCENE II.

An't pleaſe your Honour, the Mayor of the Town is come to wait on you.

Give him Admittance. This is the chief Magiſtrate of the Place, who comes, I ſuppoſe, to congratulate me on my Arrival; he might have come ſooner; but the Neglect of his Duty is better than the total Omiſſion. In the mean while, Sancho, poſt thou away this Inſtant to Toboſo; and Heaven proſ⯑per thy Embaſſy.

Proſperity may travel with me, without tiring itſelf.

SCENE III.

I am your Honour's moſt humble Servant.

Sir, I am glad to ſee you; I think you are the chief Officer of the Town.

Yes, an't pleaſe your Honour, I am Mr. Mayor of this Town. I ſhould have done myſelf the Pleaſure to have waited on you ſooner, but I was quite ignorant of the Deſign with which you came hither.

Be ſeated, Sir; you are a worthy Man, and to your Praiſe be it ſpoken, the firſt that has done his Duty ſince my Arrival.

I can't anſwer for the whole Town; but the Corpora⯑tion is as well affected a Corporation as any in all England, and I believe highly ſenſible of the Honour you intend them. No Man knows his Strength till he tries it; and, notwithſtanding what you may have heard of the Knight of the Long-Purſe, if you oppoſe him briskly, I dare anſwer for your Succeſs.

Is there a Knight on Earth I dare not oppoſe? Tho' he had as many Hands as Briareus, as many Eyes as Argus, I ſhould not fear him.

This is a ſpecial Stick of Wood, I find.—A Benefit-Ticket, adod.

I ſee the Reaſon of your Apprehenſion; you have heard of my ill Succeſs in my laſt Adventure—that was not my Fault!

I ſee he has been thrown out at ſome other Place al⯑ready.—I don't in the leaſt, Sir, apprehend it was your Fault; but there is nothing to be done without bleeding freely on theſe Occaſions.

Ha! do you think I fear to bleed?

Be not ſo paſſionate, Sir; this I aſſure you, you will do your Buſineſs with leſs than any other. I ſuppoſe, Sir, it may lay in your Power to do ſome Services to this Town.

Be aſſur'd it does. I will, for your ſake, preſerve it for ever from any Inſults. No Armies ſhall ever do you any Harm.

I aſſure you, Sir, that will recommend you very much: If you can keep Soldiers from quartering upon us, we ſhall make very little Difficulty in the Affair: But I-hope your Ho⯑nour will conſider that the Town is very poor, Sir; a little Circulation of Money among us would—

Sir, you make me concern'd that it is not now in my Power to give whatever you deſire; but reſt ſecure of this, there is not one whom you ſhall recommend, that ſhall not, within this Twelvemonth, be Governor of an Iſland.

This is a Courtier, I find, by his Promiſes.

But who is this Knight whom I am to encounter? Is he now in the Caſtle?

Yes, Sir, he is now at Loveland Caſtle, a Seat of his about ten Miles off. He was here the very Day before your Honour came to Town, randying for a Knight of his Ac⯑quaintance, with no leſs than Six Hundred Freeholders at his Heels.

Humph! thoſe are a ſort of Soldiers I never heard of in Spain.—How were they arm'd?

Arm'd, Sir?

Ay; with Carbines, with Muskets, Spears, Piſtols, Swords, or how? I ask, that I may chooſe proper Weapons to encounter them.

Ha, ha! your Honour is pleas'd to be merry; why truly, Sir, they were pretty well arm'd when they went out of Town; every Man had four or five Bottles in his Head at leaſt.

Baſe-born Cowards! who owe their Courage to the Spirit of their Wine! But be eaſy, Sir, within theſe two Days not one of them ſhall be alive.

Marry, Heaven forbid! Some of them are as honeſt Gentlemen as any in the County.

Ha! honeſt! and in the Train of the Knight of the Long-Purſe! Do I not know him to be a Deflowerer of Vir⯑gins, a Deſtroyer of Orphans, a Deſpoiler of Widows, a De⯑baucher of Wives—

Who, Sir Thomas Loveland, Sir? Why, you don't know him. He's as good-natur'd, civil a Gentleman, as a Man may ſay—

Why then do you petition me againſt him?

Nay, Sir, for that matter, let him be as civil as he plea⯑ſes, one Man's Money is as good as another's. You ſeem to be a civil Gentleman too; and if you ſtand againſt him, I don't know which would carry it: But this, I believe, you gueſs already, that he who ſpends moſt would not have the leaſt Chance.

Ha! Caitif! doſt thou think I would condeſcend to be the Patron of a Place ſo mercenary? If my Services cannot procure me the Election, doſt thou think my Money ſhould make me their Knight? What ſhould I get by undertaking the Protection of this City and Caſtle, but Dangers, Difficulties, Tolls, and Inchantments? Hence from my Sight! or by the peerleſs Dulcinea's Eyes, thy Blood ſhall pay the Affront thou haſt given my Honour.—Was it for this that I was choſen in full Senate the Patron of la Mancha? Gods! to what will Mankind degenerate! where not only the vile Neceſſaries of [25] Life; but even Honours, which ſhould be the Reward of Virtue only, are to be bought with Money.

SCENE IV.

That's it, Honey's, Oh! that's it.—What, have you no Company in the Houſe, Landlord? Could not you find out an honeſt Lad, one that could take a hearty Pot?

Faith, noble Squire, I wiſh you had ſpoke a little ſooner, Mr. Permit the Officer is juſt gone out of the Houſe; your Worſhip wou'd have lik'd him hugely; he is rare good Company.

Well, but hang it, haſt thou no body?

I have not one Gueſt in the Houſe, Sir, but a young Lady and her Maid, and a Madman, and a Squire, as he calls himſelf.

Squire! who, pr'ythee?

Squire—It is a curſed hard Name, I never can re⯑member it. Squire Pancho Sancho—he calls himſelf.

Pr'ythee, what is he, a Whig or a Tory? Hey!

Sir, I don't know what he is: His Maſter and he have been here in my Houſe this Month, and I can't tell what to make of 'em; I wiſh the Devil had 'em before I had ſeen 'em, the Squire and his Maſter both.

What, has the Squire a Maſter?

I don't know which is Maſter, nor which is Man, not I; ſometimes I think one is Maſter, and then again I think it is t'other.—I am ſure I had rather be the Squire, for he ſleeps moſt, and eats moſt; he is as bad as a Grayhound in a Houſe; there is no laying down any thing eatable, but if you turn your Back, ſlap, he has it up. As for the Knight, as he calls himſelf, he has more to pay for breaking Windows, than eat⯑ing: Wou'd I were well rid of him! He will ſit you ſome⯑times in the Yard to guard the Caſtle, as he calls it; but I am afraid his Deſign is to rob the Houſe, if he could catch an Op⯑portunity. [26] I don't underſtand one Word in ten of what he ſays; he talks of Giants, and Caſtles, and Queens, and Prin⯑ceſſes, and Chanters, and Magicians, and Dulcineas; he has been a mighty Traveller it ſeems.

A comical Dog, I fanſy; go, give my Service to him, tell him I ſhould be glad of his Company, go.

I am afraid he is not in any of the beſt Humours, for he was moſt confoundedly drubb'd juſt now.

Well, pr'ythee go and call him; here is ſome of the beſt Phyſick for him. Come, Scut, ſit down, and ſing that Song once more.

SCENE V.

Moſt illuſtrious and mighty Knight, I'm proud to kiſs your Hands.

Your Servant, Sir, your Servant.—A deviliſh odd Figure this.

To meet a Perſon of your Diſtinction, is a Happineſs I little expected; for I am much miſtaken but you are either the Knight of the Sun, or of the Black Helmet.

Or of the Black Cap, Sir, if you pleaſe.

Sir Knight of the Black Cap, I rejoice in meeting you in this Caſtle; and I wiſh the Atchievements of this glorious Adventure, in which I have been, by the curſed Power of In⯑chantment, foil'd, may be reſerv'd for you.

This is honeſt Couſin Tom, faith, as mad as a March-Hare.

Would you gueſs, Sir Knight of the Black Cap, that this uncourteous Perſon, the Lord of this Caſtle, ſhould de⯑tain within his Walls, the moſt beautiful Princeſs in the Uni⯑verſe?

The Devil he does!

Inchanted; and, if I miſtake not, by that Inchanter [28] Merlin; I humbly ſuppoſe, the Delivery of this Princeſs was the Deſign with which you came to this Caſtle.

Ay, ay, Sir, I'll deliver her, I warrant you: But come, Sir—Pray, Sir, may I crave the Honour of your Name?

I am known, Sir, in Chivalry, by the Name of the Knight of the Woful Figure.

Sir Knight of the Woful Figure, will you pleaſe to ſit down? Come, Sir, Here's to you. Landlord, draw your Chair. How long, Sir Knight of the Woful Figure, have you been in theſe Parts?

It is not, Sir Knight of the Black Cap, the Buſineſs of a Knight-Errant to number Time, like the inferior Part of Mankind, by the Days which he lives, but by the Actions he performs; perhaps you may have ſojourn'd longer here than I. Are there many Knights in this Kingdom?

Oh, numberleſs!—there are your Knights and Baron Knights, and Knights of the Poſt; and then there are your blue Knights, and your red Knights, and your green Knights.

Well, may this Kingdom be ſaid to be happy, when ſo many Knights conſpire for its Safety.

Come, let us be metry; we'll have a Hunting-Song.—Sir Knight, I ſhould be glad to ſee you at my CountryS-Seat. Come, Scut, ſing away.

[29]

Ha, ha, ha! Sir Knight of the Woful Figure; this is the Life, Sir, of moſt of our Knights in England.

Hunting is a manly Exerciſe, and therefore a proper Recreation: But it is the Buſineſs of a Knight-Errant to rid the World of other ſort of Animals than Foxes.

Here is my dear Dorothea to you, the moſt beautiful Woman in the World.

Ha, Caitif! doſt thou dare ſay that in my Preſence, forgetting that the peerleſs Dulcinea yet lives? Confeſs thy Fault this Inſtant, and own her inferior to Dulcinea, or I will make thee a dreadful Example to all future Knights who ſhall dare diſpute the Incomparableneſs of that divine Lady.

Throw by your Spit, Sir, throw by your Spit, and I don't fear you. 'Sbud! I'll beat your Lanthorn-Jaws into your Throat, you Raſcal.

Oh, that this Fellow were at the Devil! Dear Squire, let him alone.

Ha! have I diſcover'd thee, Impoſtor? Thanks, moſt incomparable Lady, that haſt not ſuffered thy Knight to pollute his Hands with the baſe Blood of that Impoſtor Squire.

SCENE VI.

Oh, Sir, I have been ſeeking your Honour, I have ſuch News to tell you!

Sancho, uncaſe this Inſtant, and handle that Squire as he deſerves.

My Lady Dulcinea, Sir—

Has been abus'd, has been injur'd, by the ſlanderous Tongue of that Squire.

But, Sir—

If thou expecteſt to live a Moment, anſwer me not a Word, 'till that Caitif hath felt thy Fiſt.

Nay, Sir, with all my Heart, as far as a Cuff or two goes.—I hate your Squire-Errants that carry Arms about them.

I'll box you firſt one Hand, ſecond with both. Sir⯑rah, I am able to beat a Dozen of you.—If I don't lamb thee!—

May be not, Brother Squire, may be not; threatned Folks live long; high Words break no Bones; many walk in⯑to a Battle, and are carry'd out on't; one Ounce of Heart is better than many Stone of Fleſh; dead Men pay no Surgeons; ſafer to dance after a Fiddle than a Drum, tho' not ſo honour⯑able; a wiſe Man would be a Soldier in time of Peace, and a Parſon in time of War.

SCENE VII.

What in the Devil's Name is the matter with you? Get you and your Maſter out of my Houſe, for a cou⯑ple of Pickpockets as you are.—Sir, I hope your Worſhip will not be angry with us.

Stand away, Landlord, ſtand away.—If I don't lick him!

Come along, out into the Yard, and let me have fair Play, and I don't fear you—I don't fear you.

Get you out, you Raſcal, get you out, or I'll be the Death of you; I'll teach you to fight with your Betters, you Villain, you; I'll curry you, Sirrah.

SCENE VIII.

I am ſorry to ſee a Gentleman inſulted, Sir. What was the Occaſion of this Fray?

I hope you are no Knight-Errant, Sir?

Sir!

I ſay, Sir, I hope you are no Knight-Errant, Sir?

You are merry, Sir.

Ay, Sir, and you would have been merry too, had you ſeen ſuch a Sight as I have. Here is a Fellow in this Inn, that outdoes all the Shows I ever ſaw. He was going to knock my Brains out for drinking my Miſtreſs's Health.

Perhaps he is your Rival, Sir.

Od! that's like enough, now I think on't; who knows but this may be that Son of a Whore, Fairlove, whom I have been told on?

Ha!

As ſure as a Gun—this is he—Odsbodlikins! Mrs. Dorothea, you have a very ſtrange ſort of a Taſte, I can tell you that.

Do you travel towards London, Sir? becauſe I ſhall be glad of your Company.

No, Sir, I have not above Fifteen ſhort Miles to go, and quite acroſs the Country.

Perhaps you are going to Sir Thomas Loveland's?

Do you know Sir Thomas then, Sir?

Very intimately well, Sir.

Give me your Hand, Sir.—You are an-honeſt Cock, I warrant you.—Why, Sir, I am going to fall in Love with Sir Thomas's Daughter.

You can't avoid that, Sir, if you ſee her; for ſhe is the moſt agreeable Woman in the World

And then ſhe ſings like a Nightingale! Now that is a very fine Quality in a Wife; for you know, the more ſhe ſings, the leſs ſhe'll talk. Some Folks like Women for their Wit; Odsbodlikins! it is a ſign they have none of their own; there is nothing a Man of good Senſe dreads ſo much in a Wife, as her having more Senſe than himſelf.

SCENE IX.

Sir, Sir!

Well, what now?

How! here?

I ſaw her, Sir, upon my Honour.

I am the happieſt of Mankind.

—Brother Traveller, farewel.

What, ſhan't we drink together?

Another time, Sir; I am in a little Haſte at preſent.—

Harkye, John, I leave you with my Rival, I need ſay no more.—Dear Dorothea, ten thouſand Raptures are in the dear Name.

SCENE X.

Harkye, Miſter; what is your Maſter's Name, pray?

Maſter, Sir?

I ſay, your Maſter's Name.

What do you ſee in me that ſhould make you ask me my Maſter's Name? I ſuppoſe you would take it very ill of me, if I were to ask you what your Maſter's Name is. Do I look ſo little like a Gentleman as to ſtand in need of a Ma⯑ſter?

Oh, Sir, I ask your Pardon; your Dreſs, Sir, was the Occaſion of my Miſtake.

Probable enough; among you Country Gentlemen, and really in Town, Gentlemen and Footmen dreſs ſo very like one another, that it is ſomewhat difficult to know which is which.

May be, Sir, then, you are only an Acquaintance of this Gentleman's.

A travelling Acquaintance.

May I crave his Name, Sir?

Oh, Sir! his Name, his Name, Sir, is Sir Gregory Nebuchaddonnezzar. He is a very rich Jew, an Italian by Birth, born in the City of Cork. He is a going into Cornwal to take poſſeſſion of a ſmall Eſtate of Twenty thouſand Pounds a Year, left him the other Day by a certain Dutch Merchant's Miſtreſs, with whom he had an Intrigue. He is a Gentleman, Sir, univerſally eſteem'd in the Beau Monde.

Beau Monde! Pray, what's that?

Beau Monde, Sir, is as much as to ſay, a Man of Fi⯑gure; when you ſay, he is a Man of the Beau Monde, you mean juſt ſuch another Perſon as I am.

You will pardon the Ignorance of a Country Gentle⯑man.

Oh, Sir! we of the Beau Monde are never offended at Ignorance.

Avant, Caitifs!—think not, thou moſt accurſed Giant, ever to enter within this Caſtle, to bring any more captive Princeſſes hither.

Heyday! What's the matter now?

Open the Gates, will you? Are you Mad?

You, my Lord of the Caſtle, ſuffer them to be open⯑ed at your Peril.

One might think, by this Noiſe, that we were at the Outſide of the Opera-Houſe, at a Ridotto.

SCENE XI.

For Heaven's ſake, Gentlemen, come and aſſiſt us; this mad Don Quixote will ruin my Houſe; he won't ſuf⯑fer the Stage-Coach to come into the Yard. Dear, good Gen⯑tlemen, come and ſpeak to him.—Oh! that ever I ſhould live to ſee him!

I am too much a Gentleman not to aſſiſt a Lady in Diſtreſs.—Come, Sir.

After you, Sir; I am not quite unbred.

O dear, Sir.

SCENE XII.

If you don't open the Gates this Inſtant, I'll go to another Inn.

Sir, I'll have your Houſe indicted; I'll have your Sign taken down.

Gentlemen, here is a Madman in the Yard.—Will you let me open the Gates, or no, Sir?

Open them, and I will ſhew thee, that I want no Walls to ſecure me.—Open them, I ſay.—You ſhall ſee the Force of one ſingle Knight.

Dear Gentlemen, will no body knock his Brains out?

This is the moſt comical Dog I ever ſaw in my Life.

If I have any thing to ſay to him while he has that Thing in his Hand, may I have it in my Guts that Mo⯑ment.

There, the Gates are open.

Now, thou peerleſs Princeſs, Dulcinea.

Gee, Gee, Boys, Hup!

SCENE XIII.

Don't be frightned, my Dear, there is no Dan⯑ger now.

That's owing to me, my Dear; if we had not got out of the Coach, as I advis'd, we had been in a fine Con⯑dition.

Who is this Fellow, Woman, that has caus'd all this Rout?

Oh! dear Mr. Counſellor, I am almoſt frightned out of my Wits; he is the Devil, I think.—I can't get him out of my Houſe.

What, have you no Juſtice of the Peace near you? You ſhould apply to a Juſtice of Peace. The Law pro⯑vides a very good Remedy for theſe ſort of People; I'll take your Affair into my Hands. Dr. Drench, do you know no neighbouring Juſtice?

What, do you talk of a Juſtice? The Man is mad, and Phyſick is properer for him than Law. I'll take him in hand my ſelf, after Supper.

I wiſh, Mr. Sneak, you would go into the Kitchen, and ſee what we can have for Supper.

Yes, my Dear.

Ay, do; the freſh Air of the Downs, I proteſt, has got me an Appetite.—Ladies, how do you do after your Fright? Doctor, I fanſy a Dram of that Cordial, you carry in your Pocket, would do the Ladies no harm.

You are a merry Man, Mr. Counſellor; come, Child.

This way, Ladies.

SCENE XIV.

Huzza! Hark, hark!—Agad, he has routed the Coach and Horſes bravely! my Landlord and the Coachman won't overtake them one while, I warrant.

Moſt illuſtrious, and high Lords, it is with great Pleaſure that I congratulate you on your Delivery, which you [38] owe only to the peerleſs Dulcinea; I deſire therefore no other Return, but that you both repair immediately to Toboſo, and render your ſelves at her Feet.

Poor Man! poor Man! he muſt be put to Bed. I ſhall apply ſome proper Remedies. His Frenzy is very high, but I hope we ſhall be able to take it off.

His Frenzy! his Roguery; the Fellow's a Rogue; he is no more mad than I am; and the Coachman and Land⯑lord both have very good Actions at Law againſt him.

Sancho, do thou attend thoſe Princes to the richeſt and moſt beautiful Apartments.—Moſt illuſtrious Princes, the Governor of this Caſtle is an Inchanter; but be not alarm'd at it, for all the Powers of Hell ſhall not hurt you. I will my ſelf keep on the Guard all this Night for your Safety; and to⯑morrow I expect you ſet forward for Toboſo.

Galen calls this Phrenzy the Phrenabracum.

My Lord Coke brings theſe People into the Number of common Cheats.

I ſhall order him Bleeding, Gliſtering, Vomiting, Purging, Biiſtering, and Cupping.

He may, beſides an Action of Aſſault and Battery, be indicted in the Crown; he may alſo have an Action of Damages and Treſpaſſes laid on him.—In ſhort, if he be worth Five thouſand Pounds, I don't queſtion but to action him out on't.—Come, Doctor, if you pleaſe, we will at⯑tend the Ladies.

Why, Mr. Quixote, do you know who theſe People were you call'd Princes?

One of them I take to be the Prince of Sarmatia, and the other of the Five Mountains.

One of them is a Lawyer, and t'other a Phyſician.

Monſtrous Inchantment! what odd Shapes this Mer⯑lin transforms the greateſt People into! but Knight-Errantry will be too hard for him at laſt.

Ha, ha, ha! a comical Dog!

If you will accept of one Bottle of Stout, Brother-Traveller, it is at your Service.

With all my Heart, Sir. I'm afraid this Fellow has no good Champaign in his Houſe.

Hey! is the Coaſt clear'd? Where in the Devil's Name has this mad Maſter of mine diſpoſed himſelf? for mad he is now, that's certain; this laſt Adventure has put it paſt all manner of Diſpute. Ah, poor Sancho! what will be⯑come of thee? Would it not be the wiſeſt way to look out for ſome new Maſter, while thou haſt any whole Bones in thy Skin: And yet, I can't find in my Heart to forſake my old one, at leaſt till I have got this ſmall Iſland; and then perhaps, when I have it, I ſhall loſe it again, as I did my former Go⯑vernment. —Well, if ever I do lay my Fingers on an Iſland more, I'll act like other wiſe Governors, fall to plundering as faſt as I can, and when I have made my Fortune, why, let them turn me out if they will.

[40]

ACT III. SCENE I.

DEPEND on it, you ſhall be made amends for your Da⯑mage you have ſuſtain'd from this heroick Knight and his Squire.

You look like a very honourable Gentleman, Sir, and I would take your Word for a great deal more than he owes me.

But pray, Mrs. Guzzle, how came you by this fine Dreſs, in which the Lady Dulcinea is to be exhibited?

About a Month ago, Madam, there was a Com⯑pany of Stage-Players here, and they ſtaid for above a Fort⯑night acting their Shows: But I don't know how it hap⯑pen'd, the Gentry did not give them much Encouragement; ſo at laſt they all run away, except the Queen, whom I made bold to ſtrip of her Finery, which is all that I have to ſhew for their whole Reckoning.

Ha, ha, ha! Poor Queen! Poor travelling Prin⯑ceſs!

The Devil travel with her to the World's End, ſo ſhe travel not hither; ſend me any thing but Stage-players [43] and Knight-Errants. I'm ſure Fifty Pounds won't make me whole again; would your Ladyſhip think it, Madam? Beſide other Articles, ſhe ran in tick Twenty Shillings for Thunder and Lighting.

SCENE II.

Behold the peerleſs Princeſs! Ha, ha, ha! Oh, I ſhall die! Ha, ha, ha!

Zooks! ſhe'll put the real Dulcinea out of counte⯑nance, for no ſuch gorgeous fine Lady have I ſeen in all To⯑boſo.

Is the Knight appris'd, Mr. Sancho, of the Approach of his Miſtreſs?

Yes, Sir, it had like to have coſt me dear, I'm ſure; for when I told him of it, he gave me ſuch a Hug, that I thought I ſhou'd never have fetch'd Breath any more in this World. I believe he took me for the Lady Dulcinea her ſelf.

But why bootted and ſpurr'd, Mr. Sancho? Are you go⯑ing a Journey?

Yes, Madam, your Ladyſhip knows I was ordered to go for my Lady Dulcinea; ſo what does me I, but rides into the Kitchen, where I whipt and ſpurr'd about a Sirloin of roſt Beef, for a full half Hour. Then ſlap, I return'd to my Maſter, whom I found leaning upon his Spear, with his Eyes lifted up to the Stars, calling out upon my Toboſo Lady, as if the Devil were in his Guts; as ſoon as he ſees me, Sancho, ſays he, with a Voice like a great Gun, wilt thou never have ſufficiently ſtuffed thy Wallet? Wilt thou never ſet out for Toboſo? Heavens bleſs your Honour's Worſhip, and keep you in your Senſes, ſays I; I am juſt return'd from thence; I am ſure, if you felt half the Wearineſs in your Bones that I do, you'd think you ſet out with a Vengeance. Truly then, San⯑cho, thou muſt have travelled by Chantment. I don't know [44] whether I travelled by Chantment; but this I know, that about Five Miles off I met my Lady Dulcinea. How! ſays he, and gave ſuch a Spring, I thought he would have leapt over the Wall. Ay, ſays I, ſure I know her Ladyſhip. He that has ſtood in the Piliory ought to know what Wood it is made of; and a Woman, who walks the Streets, ought to know whe⯑ther they are pav'd or no.

I hope he won't offer to be rude.

Your Ladyſhip need not fear that. I dare ſwear he loves your Ladyſhip ſo much, he would not take a Hundred Pound to come within a Yard of you; he's one of your high bred ſort of Gentry, and knows his Diſtance.

Shou'd he offer to touch me, I ſhou'd faint.

If your Ladyſhip pleaſes, I'll convey you to a proper Place where you may ſee my Maſter, and then I'll go and pre⯑pare him a little more for your Arrival.

I'll go ſee this Show, I'm reſolv'd; and, faith, I begin to doubt which of my Gueſts is the maddeſt.

SCENE III.

Shall we follow to the Window, and ſee the Sport?

How can my Dorothea think of trifling at this time?

Had I ſound you at my firſt Arrival, I ſhould ſcarce have invented this Deſign; but I cannot ſee any Retardment 'twill be to our Purpoſe.

Why ſhould we not fly away this Inſtant; who knows but you may be purſued? I ſhall have no eaſy Mo⯑ment till you are mine beyond any poſſibility of loſing you.

The Morning will be time enough; for I have taken ſuch Meaſures, I ſhall not be miſs'd till then; beſides, I think there was ſomething ſo lucky in your coming hither without having received my Letter, that I cannot ſuſpect the happy Succeſs of our Affair. Ah, Fairlove! would I were as ſure it would be always in your Will, as it will be in your Power, [45] to make me happy: But when I reflect on your former Life, when I think what a Rover you have been, have I not a juſt Occaſion then for Fear?

Unkind Dorothea!

SCENE IV.

Landlord, how fares it? You ſeem to drive a humming Trade here.

Pretty well, conſidering the Hardneſs of the Times, an't pleaſe your Honour.

Better Times are a coming, a new Election is not far off.

Ay, Sir, if we had but an Election once a Year, a Man might make a ſhift to pick up a Livelihood.

Once a Year! why, thou unconſcionable Rogue! the Kingdom would not be able to ſupply us with Malt. But pr'ythee whom haſt thou in thy Houſe, any honeſt Fellows? Ha!

Here's Lawyer Brief, Sir, and Dr. Drench; and there's Mr. Sneak and his Wife; then there's one Squire Badger of Somerſetſhire.

Oho! give my Service to him inſtantly, tell him I ſhould be very glad to ſee him.

Yes, an't pleaſe your Honour.

This Fellow is not quite of a right Kidney, the Dog is not ſound at the Bottom; however, I muſt keep well with him till after the next Election. Now for my Son-in-law, that is to be, whom I long mightily to ſee; I'm ſure his Eſtate makes him a very advantageous Match for my Daughter, if ſhe can but like his Perſon; and if he be deſcrib'd right to me, I don't ſee how ſhe can fail of doing that.

SCENE V.

Here's the Squire, an't pleaſe your Honour.

Mr. Badger, I'm your moſt humble Servant; you're welcome into this Country; I've done my ſelf the [47] Honour, Sir, to meet you thus far, in order to conduct you to my Daughter.

I ſuppoſe, Sir, you may be Sir Thomas Loveland.

At your Service, Sir.

Then I wiſh, when you had been about it, you had brought your Daughter along with you.

Ha, ha! you are merry, Sir.

Ay, Sir, and you wou'd have been merry, if you had been in ſuch Company as I have been in. My Lord! 'Sbud! where's my Lord? 'Sbud! Sir Thomas, my Lord Slang is one of the merrieſt Men you ever knew in your Life; he has been telling me a Parcel of ſuch Stories!

I proteſt, Sir, you are ſo extremely well-bred, you put me out of countenance; Sir Thomas, I am your moſt obedient humble Servant.

I ſuppoſe this Lord can't afford to keep a Footman, and ſo he wears his own Livery.

I wiſh, my Lord, you would tell Sir Thomas the Sto⯑ry about you and the Dutcheſs of what d'ye call her.— Odsheart! it is one of the pleaſanteſt Stories! about how ſhe met him in the Dark at a Maſquerade, and about how ſhe gave him a Letter; and then about how he carried her to a, to a, to a—

To a Bagnio, to a Bagnio.

Ay, to a Bagnio. 'Sbud, Sir, if I was not partly engag'd in Honour to court your Daughter, I'd go to London along with my Lord, where Women are, it ſeems, as plenty as Rabbets in a Warren. Had I known as much of the World before, as I do now, I believe I ſhou'd ſcarce have thought of marrying. Who'd marry, when my Lord ſays, here, a Man may have your great ſort of Ladies, only for wearing a broder'd Coat, telling half a Dozen Lies, and making a Bow.

I believe, Sir, my Daughter won't force ye againſt your Inclination.

Force me! No; I believe not Icod! I ſhould be glad to ſee a Woman that ſhould force me. If you come [48] to that, Sir, I'm not afraid of you, nor your Daughter nei⯑ther.

This Fellow's a great Fool; but his Eſtate muſt not be loſt.

—You miſunderſtand me, Sir, I believe you will have no Incivility to complain of, from either me or my Daughter.

Nay, Sir, for that matter, when People are civil to me, I know how to be civil to them again; come, Father-in-law of mine, that is to be, what ſay you to a cheriſhing Cup; and you ſhall hear ſome of my Lord's Stories?

As far as one Bottle, Squire, but you muſt not exceed.

Nay, nay, you may e'en ſneak off when you pleaſe: My Lord and I here, are very good Company by our ſelves. Pray, my Lord, go firſt; I'd have you think I have got ſome Manners.

A very hopeful Spark this. But he has a great Eſtate; and I have no Notion of refuſing an Eſtate, let the Man be what he will.

SCENE VI.

How far doſt thou think the advanc'd Guards are yet from the Caſtle?

Sir!

But perhaps ſhe may chooſe to travel incognita, and may, for the greater Expedition, have left thoſe curs'd, uſeleſs, heavy Troops, her Horſe-Guards, to follow a Month or two hence. How many Coaches didſt thou number?

Truly, Sir, they were ſo many, I could not number them. I dare ſwear there were a good round Baker's Dozen, at leaſt.

Sancho, thou wilt never leave debaſing the greateſt things in thy vile Phraſes. Wilt thou eternally put my Patience to the Teſt? Take heed, unworthy Squire, when thou art [49] talking of this incomparable and peerleſs Princeſs, thou doſt it not in any of thy low Ribaldry; for if thou doſt, by all the Powers of this invincible Arm—

Oh, ſpare me, ſpare me!—And if ever I offend your Worſhip any more, if ever I crack a Jeſt on my Lady Dulcinea—

Proceed! What Knights attend her Preſence?

They make ſuch a Glittering, Sir, 'tis impoſſible to know one from the other; they look for all the World at a Diſtance, like a Flock of Sheep.

Ha! again!

Nay, Sir, if your Worſhip won't let a Man talk in his own Language, he muſt e'en hold his Tongue. Every Man is not bred at a Varſity, who looks for a Courtier's Tongue be⯑tween the Teeth of a Clown. An ill Phraſe may come from a good Heart. Many Men, many Minds; many Minds, ma⯑ny Mouths; many Mouths, many Tongues; many Tongues; many Words.

Ceaſe thy Torrent of Impertinence, and tell me, is not the Knight of the Black Eagle there?

Ay marry is he, Sir, and he of the black Ram too. On they trot, Sir, Cheek by Jole, Sir, for all the World like two Butter-Women to Market; then comes my Lady Dulcinea all Rampant in her Coach, with half a ſcore dozen Maids of Ho⯑nour; twou'd have done your Heart good to ſee her, ſhe looks e'en juſt like—

Like a milk-white Dove amongſt a Flight of Crows.

To all the World, like a new half Crown Piece, a⯑mongſt a heap of old Braſs Farthings.

SCENE VII.

This Way, Sir, take care how you tread.

Ha! ſhe approaches! the Torches are already arriv'd at the Gate, the great Fulgoran is alighted. O thou moſt wel⯑come of all Knights, let me embrace thee.

Let me alone pr'ythee, Fellow, or I ſhall have you laid by the Heels; what do you mean to rob me, hey?

Is it poſſible, the mighty Fulgoran ſhould not know me?

Know ye! 'tis not to your Advantage, I believe, to be known. Let me tell you, Sirrah, you may be try'd on the Black Act, for going about diſguis'd in this Manner; and but that I ſhall go a better Way to work with you, as good an In⯑dictment wou'd lie on that Act—

Behold, Sir, my Lady Dulcinea her ſelf.

Light on, Boy, the next Juſtice ought to be indicted for not putting the Laws in Execution againſt ſuch Fellows.

SCENE VIII.

O moſt illuſtrious, and moſt mighty Princeſs, with what Looks ſhall I behold you? with what Words ſhall I thank you for this infinite Goodneſs to your unworthy Knight?

Riſe, Sir.

Do not overwhelm me with too much Goodneſs; tho' to ſee you be inexpreſſible Happineſs, yet to ſee you here gives me ſome Uneaſineſs: For, O moſt adorable Princeſs, this Caſtle is inchanted, Giants and captive Ladies inhabit only here.

Could I but be aſſured of your Conſtancy, I ſhould have no Fear; but, alas! there are ſo many Inſtances of per⯑jur'd Men.

[51]

Eternal Curſes light on all ſuch perjur'd Wretches!

But tho' you may be conſtant at firſt, when we have been married a great while, and have had ſeveral Children, you may leave me, and then I ſhould break my Heart.

Rather may the univerſal Frame of Nature be diſ⯑ſolv'd, periſh firſt, all Honeſty, Honour, Virtue, nay Knight-Errantry it ſelf, that Quinteſſence of all.

Cou'd I always remain young as I am now, but alack-a-day I ſhall grow old, and then you will forſake me for ſome younger Maiden; I know it is the way of all you Men, you all love young Fleſh. You all Sing,

[52]

Oh moſt Divine Princeſs! whoſe Voice is infinitely ſweeter than the Nightingale: Oh, charm my Ears no more [53] with ſuch tranſporting Melody, leſt I find my Joy too exqui⯑ſite for Senſe to bear.

SCENE IX.

Pity, illuſtrious Knight; oh, pity an unhappy Princeſs, who has no hopes of Safety, but from your victorious Arm. This Inſtant I am purſu'd by a mighty Giant.

Oh, moſt adorable Dulcinea! unleſs ſome Affair of your own forbid, permit your Knight to undertake this Ad⯑venture.

You can't oblige me more.

Nor me leſs; Oh! the Devil take all Giant Adventures, now ſhall I have my Bones broke, I'd give an Arm or two to ſecure the reſt with all my Heart, I'll e'en ſneak off if I can, and preſerve the whole.

Sancho, come here! Stand thou in the Front, and receive the firſt Onſet of the Enemy, that ſo I may wait a proper Opportunity, while the Giant is aiming at thy Head, to ſtrike off his.

Ah, Sir, I have been a Squire-Erranting to ſome purpoſe truly, if I don't know better than to ſtand before my Maſter. Beſide, Sir, every Man in his Way. I am the worſt Man in the World at the beginning of the Battle, but a very Devil at the end of it.

SCENE X.

Oh Sir, undone, ruin'd! Sir Thomas himſelf is in the Inn; you are diſcover'd, and here he comes with a hundred and fifty People, to fetch away Madam Dorothea.

We know it, we know it.

And were he to bring as many thouſand—I'll ſhew him one ſingle Knight may be too many for them all.

Ten thouſand Thanks, great Knight; by Heaven's I'll die by your Side, before I'll loſe her.

Now, thou moſt adorable Princeſs Dulcinea del Toboſo, now ſhine with all thy Influence upon me.

Where is my Daughter, Villains? where is my Daughter?

Oh, thou curſed Giant Tergilicombo, too well I know thy Voice; have at thee, Caitif.

Dear Jezebel, I am frighten'd out of my Wits, my Fa⯑ther or Mr. Fairlove will be deſtroy'd—I am reſolv'd I'll ruſh into the middle of them, and with my own Danger put an end to the Fray.

Do ſo, and in the mean time I'll into the Cloſet, and put an end to a ſmall Bottle I have there; I proteſt I am hor⯑ribly frighten'd my ſelf.

SCENE XI.

There they are at it Pell-mell, who will be knock'd on the Head I know not; I think I'm pretty ſure it won't be San⯑cho. I have made a ſhift to eſcape this Bout, but I ſhall never get out of this curſed fighting Country again as ſafe as I came into it. I ſhall leave ſome Pounds of poor Sancho behind me; if this be the effect of Engliſh Beef and Pudding, would I were in Spain again. I begin to think this Houſe or Caſtle is chanted; nay, I fanſy the Devil lives in it, for we have had no⯑thing but Battles, ſince we have been here. My Bones are not the Bones they were a Fortnight ago, nor are they in the ſame Places. As to my Skin the Rainbow is a Fool to it for Co⯑lours; it is like—What is it like? Ecod 'tis like nothing but my Maſter's. Well, Maſter of mine, if you do get the Day you deſerve it, I'll ſay that for you; and if you are well drub'd, why, you deſerve that too. What had we to do with the Princeſs and be hang'd to her? Beſides I verily believe ſhe's no more a Princeſs than I am. No good ever comes of minding other Mens Matters. I ſeldom ſee any Meat got by winding up ano⯑ther [55] Man's Jack. I'll e'en take this Opportunity, and while all the reſt are knocking one another on the Head, I'll into the Pantry and ſtuff both Guts and Wallet as long as they'll hold.

SCENE XII.

See, ungracious Girl, ſee what your curſed Inclinati⯑ons have occaſion'd!

I'm ſure they are the Cauſe of my Miſery; if Fairlove be deſtroy'd, I never ſhall enjoy a Moment's Quiet more.

Perhaps it were better for him if he were; I ſhall handle him in ſuch a Manner, that the reſt of his Life ſhall not be much worth wiſhing for.

Thus on my Knees, Sir, I intreat you by all the Ten⯑derneſs you ever profeſs'd to me! by all the Joy you have ſo often ſaid I gave you! by all the Pain I now endure! do not attempt to injure Fairlove. You can inflict no Puniſhment on him, but I muſt feel much more than half. Is it not enough to pull me, tear me bleeding from his Heart? Is it not enough to rob my Eyes of what they love more than Light or than them⯑ſelves? Hinder me from all thoſe Scenes of Bliſs, I'd painted to my ſelf? Oh, hear me, Sir, or kill me, and do not make this Life you gave a Curſe.

Away, you're no Child of mine.

Wou'd you keep me from him, try to make him happy; that Thought would be ſome Comfort in his Abſence—I might perhaps bear to be no Partaker of his Happineſs, but not ſo of his Sufferings; were he in a Palace, you might keep me wretch⯑ed alone; but were he in a Priſon, not all the Powers on Earth ſhould keep me from him.

SCENE XIII.

We have made a ſhift, an't pleaſe your Worſhip, to ſecure this mad Fellow at laſt; but he has done us more [56] Miſchief than ever it will be in his power to make us Repa⯑ration for.

Our Houſe is ruin'd for ever, there is not one whole Window in it; the Stage-Coachman ſwears he'll never bring a Company to it again. There's Miſs Sneak above in Fits, and Mr. Sneak, poor Man, is crying, and Madam Sneak, ſhe's a ſwearing and ſtamping like a Dragoon.

Mr. Fairlove, you ſhall anſwer for this—As for that poor Fellow there, I ſuppoſe you have hired him. Hark'e, Fellow, what did this Gentleman give you to do all this Miſchief?

It is your Time now, and you may uſe it. I perceive this Adventure is not reſerv'd for me, therefore I muſt ſubmit to the Inchantment.

Do you banter me, you Raſcal?

Poor Wretch! I ſcorn to retort thy injurious Words.

I'll make you know who I am preſently, I will ſo.

Doſt thou then think I know thee not to be the Giant Tergilicombo?—yet think not becauſe I ſubmit to my Fortune, that I fear thee; No, the time will come, when I ſhall ſee thee the Prey of ſome more happy Knight.

I'll Knight you, you Dog, I will.

Do you hear, Husband? I ſuppoſe you won't doubt whether he be mad any longer or no; he makes no more of his Worſhip, than if he were talking to a Fidler.

I wiſh your Worſhip would ſend him to Goal, he ſeems to look moſt curſedly Miſchievous. I ſhall never think my ſelf ſafe till he is under Lock and Key.

Sir Thomas, I do not deſerve this Uſage at your Hands; and tho' my Love to your Daughter hath made me hitherto Paſſive, do not carry the Thing too far; for be aſſured if you do you ſhall anſwer for it.

Ay, ay, Sir, we are not afraid of that.

SCENE XIV.

Oons! what's the Matter with you all? Is the Devil in the Inn that you won't let a Man ſleep? I was as faſt on the Table as if I had been in a Feather-bed.—'Sbud, what's the matter? Where's my Lord Slang?

Dear Squire, let me intreat you would go to Bed, you are a little heated with Wine.

Oons, Sir! do you ſay that I am drunk? I ſay, Sir, that I am as ſober as a Judge; and if any Man ſays that I am drunk, Sir, he's a Liar, and a Son of a Whore. My Dear, an't I—ſober now?

O nauſeous, filthy Wretch!

'Fore George, a good pretty Wench; I'll have a Kiſs; I'll warrant ſhe's twice as handſom as my Wife, that is to be.

Hold, dear Sir, this is my Daughter.

Sir, I don't care whoſe Daughter ſhe is.

For Heaven's ſake, ſome body defend me from him.

Let me go, Dogs! Villain! thou hadſt better eat thy Fingers than lay 'em rudely on that Lady.

Dear Mr. Badger, this is my Daughter, the young Lady to whom you intended your Addreſſes.

Well, Sir, and an't I making Addreſſes to her, Sir, Hey?

Let me beſeech you, Sir, to attack her in no rude manner.

Pr'ythee, doſt thou know who I am? I fanſy if thou did'ſt know who I was, thou wou'dſt not talk to me ſo; if thou doſt any more, I ſhall lend thee a Knock. Come, Madam, ſince I have promis'd to marry you, ſince I can't be off with Honour, as they ſay; why, the ſooner it's done, the better; let us ſend for a Parſon and be married, now I'm in the Humour. 'Sbod⯑likins! I find there's nothing in making Love, when a Man's [58] but once got well into't. I never made a Word of Love be⯑fore in my Life; and yet it is as natural, ſeemingly, as if I had been bound Prentice to it.

Sir, one Word with you, if you pleaſe; I ſuppoſe you look upon your ſelf as a reaſonable ſort of Perſon.

What?

That you are capable of managing your Affairs; that you don't ſtand in need of a Governor.

Hey!

And if this be true of you, is it poſſible you can pre⯑fer that Wretch, who is a Scandal to his very Species, to this Gentleman, whoſe Perſon and Parts would be an Honour to the greateſt of it.

Has he made you his Advocate? Tell him, I can prefer Three Thouſand to One.

The uſual Madneſs of Mankind! Do you marry your Daughter for her ſake, or your own? If for her's, ſure 'tis ſomething whimſical, to make her miſerable in order to make her happy. Money is a Thing well worth conſidering in theſe Affairs; but Parents always regard it too much, and Lov⯑ers too little. No Match can be happy, which Love and For⯑tune do not conſpire to make ſo. The greateſt Addition of either, illy ſupplies the intire Abſence of the other; nor wou'd Millions a Year make that Beaſt, in your Daughter's Eye, pre⯑ferable to this Youth with a Thouſand.

What have we here, a Philoſophical Pimp! I can't help ſaying, but the Fellow has ſome Truth on his Side.

You are my eternal Averſion.

Lookye, Madam, I can take a Joke, or ſo, but if you are in earneſt—

Indeed I am, I hate and deſpiſe you in the moſt ſerious earneſt.

Do you, then you may kiſs.—'Sbud, I can hate as well as you. Your Daughter has affronted me here. Sir, what's your Name, and I'll have Satisfaction?

Oh, that I were diſinchanted for thy ſake!

Sir, I'll have Satisfaction.

My Daughter, Sir—

Sir, your Daughter, Sir, is a Son of a Whore, Sir. 'Sbud, I'll go find my Lord Slang. A Fig for you and your Daughter too; I'll have Satisfaction.

A Turk wou'd ſcarce marry a Chriſtian Slave to ſuch a Husband.

How this Man was miſrepreſented to me! Fellows, let go your Priſoner. Mr. Fairlove, can you forgive me? Can I make you any Reparation for the Injuſtice I have ſhewn you on this Wretch's Account?

Ha!

Ha!

If the immediate executing all my former Promiſes to you, can make you forget my having broken them; and if, as I have no Reaſon to doubt, your Love for my Daughter will continue, you have my Conſent to conſummate as ſoon as you pleaſe; hers, I believe you have already.

Oh Tranſport! Oh bleſt Moment!

No Conſent of mine can ever be wanting to make him happy.

[60]

Lard bleſs 'em! who cou'd have parted them, that hadn't a Heart of Oak!

Here are the Fruits of Knight-Errantry for you. This is an Inſtance of what admirable Service we are to Mankind. —I find, ſome Adventures are reſerv'd for Don Quixote de la Mancha.

Don Quixote de la Mancha! Is it poſſible that you can be the real Don Quixote de la Mancha?

Truly, Sir, I have had ſo much to do with Inchan⯑ters, that I dare not affirm whether I am really my ſelf, or no.

Sir, I honour you much; I have heard of your great Atchievements in Spain; what brought you to England, noble Don?

A Search of Adventures, Sir; no Place abounds more with them. I was told there was a plenteous Stock of Mon⯑ſters; nor have I found one leſs than I expected.

SCENE XV.

I'll have Satisfaction, I won't be us'd after this man⯑ner for nothing, while there is either Law, or Judge, or Ju⯑ſtice, or Jury, or Crown-Office, or Actions of Damages, or on the Caſe, or Treſpaſſes, or Aſſaults, and Batteries.

What's the matter, Mr. Counſeller?

Oh, Sir Thomas! I am abus'd, beaten, hurt, maimed, disfigured, defaced, diſmember'd, kill'd, maſſacred, and mur⯑der'd, by this Rogue, Robber, Raſcal, Villain. I ſhan't be able to appear at Weſtminſter-Hall the whole Term; it will be as good a Three Hundred Pounds out of my Pocket as was ever taken.

If this Madman be not blooded, cupped, ſweated, bliſter'd, vomited, purg'd, this Inſtant, he will be incurable. I am well acquainted with this ſort of Phrenzy; his next Pa⯑roxyſm will be ſix times as ſtrong as the former.

Pſhaw! the Man is no more mad than I am.—I ſhould be finely off if he could be prov'd Non compos men⯑tis; 'tis an eaſy thing for a Man to pretend Madneſs Ex poſt facto.

Pretend Madneſs! give me leave to tell you, Mr. Brief, I am not to be pretended with; I judge by Symp⯑toms, Sir.

Symptoms! Gad, here are Symptoms for you, if you come to that.

Very plain Symptoms of Madneſs, I think.

Very fine, indeed! very fine Doctrine! very fine, in⯑deed! a Man's beating of another is a Proof of Madneſs; ſo that if a Man be indicted, he has nothing to do, but to plead, Non compos mentis, and he's acquitted of courſe; ſo there's an end of all Actions of Aſſaults and Battery at once.

SCENE XVI.

Heyday! what's the matter now?

Bring him along, bring him along! Ah Maſter, no wonder you have complain'd ſo long of miſſing your Vic⯑tuals, for all the time we were out in the Yard, this Rogue has been ſtuffing his Guts in the Pantry. Nay, he has not on⯑ly done that, but every thing he cou'd not eat, he has cram'd into that great Sack there, which he calls a Wallet.

Thou Scandal to the Name of Squire! wilt thou eternally bring Shame on thy Maſter by theſe little pilfering Tricks!

Nay, nay, you have no reaſon to talk, good Maſter of mine; the Receiver's as bad as the Thief; and you have been glad, let me tell you, after ſome of your Adventures, to ſee the Inſide of the Wallet, as well as I. What a Pox, are theſe your Errantry Tricks, to leave your Friends in the Lurch?

Slave! Caitif!

Dear Knight, be not angry with the truſty Sancho, you know by the Laws of Knight-Errantry, ſtuffing the Wal⯑let has ſtill been the Privilege of the Squire.

If this Gentleman be a Knight-Errant, I wiſh he wou'd make me his Squire.

I'm pacified.

Landlord, be eaſy. Whatever you may have ſuffer'd by Mr. Sancho, or his illuſtrious Maſter, I'll ſee you paid.

If you will honour my Houſe, noble Knight, and be preſent at my Daughter's Wedding with this Gentle⯑man, we will do the beſt in our Power for your Entertain⯑ment.

Sir, I accept your Offer, and, unleſs any immediate Adventure of moment ſhould intervene, will attend you.

Oh rare Sancho! this is brave News, i'faith! Give me your Wedding-Adventures, the Devil take all the reſt.

Sure, Sir Thomas, you will not take a Madman home with you to your Houſe.

I have heard thee, thon ignorant Wretch, throw that Word in my Face, with Patience; for alas! cou'd it be prov'd, what were it more than almoſt all Mankind in ſome degrees deſerve? Who would doubt the noiſy boiſt'rous Squire, who was here juſt now, to be mad? Muſt not this noble Knight here have been mad, to think of marrying his Daughter to ſuch a Wretch? You, Doctor, are mad too, tho' not ſo mad as your Patients. The Lawyer here is mad, or he wou'd not have gone into a Scuffle, when it is the Buſineſs of Men of his Profeſſion to ſet other Men by the Ears, and keep clear them⯑ſelves.

Ha, ha, ha! I don't know whether this Knight, by and by, may not prove us all to be more mad than him⯑ſelf.

Perhaps, Sir Thomas, that is no ſuch difficult Point.

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