Just. But the act, and in that provided, forbids all blows, particularly on the head.

Snarl. It was dark, and when I strike, I never mind where the blows fall.

Scout. A voluntary confession, a voluntary confession! Just. A voluntary confession, indeed. Release the prisoner; I find no cause of complaint against him.

[Exeunt Constable.

Snarl. No cause of complaint against him! You are a pretty justice, indeed! one kills my sheep, and the other pays me with Sir Hugh Witherington, and then you see no cause of complaint against him.

Just. Not I, truly.

Snarl. A pretty day's work I have made, indeed! a suit of law, and a suit of iron-gray cloth, both carried against me; but as for you, Mr. Lawyer, we shall meet again.

[Exit. Just. O, fie! neighbour Snarl, you are to blame, very much to blame, indeed.

Scout. Come, now it is all over, go and thank his worship.

Sheep. Baa, baa, baa!

Just. Enough, enough, my good fellow; take care you do not catch cold in your head; go and get trepanned, and take care of yourself, Sheepface.

Sheep. Baa!

Just. Poor fellow!

[Exit.

Scout. Bravo, my boy! You have acted your part admirably, and I think I did very well to bring you off so cleverly; and now I make no doubt but, as you are a very honest fellow, you'll pay me as generously as you promised.

Sheep. Baa!

Scout. Ay, very well, very well, indeed! you did that very well just now, but there's no occasion to have it over any more. I'm talking about my fee, you know, Sheepface! Yes, yes, I tell you, it was very well done: but at this time, you know, my fee is the question.

Sheep. Baa, baa!

Scout. How's this? am I laughed at? Pay me directly, you rascal, or I'll play the deuse with you! I'll teach you to try to cheat a lawyer, that lives by cheating others. I'll-

Sheep. Baa!

Scout. What, again! Braved by a mongrel cur, a bleating bell-wether, a—

Sheep. Baa!

Scout. Out of my sight, or I'll break every bone in your dog's skin, you sheep-stealing scoundrel! would you cheat one that has cheated hundreds? Get home to your hidingplace.

Sheep. Baa!

Scout. Away, and mind how you and your wife play the rest of your parts; and, perhaps, I may forgive you, if we succeed; if not, I will make an example of you, you rascal!

Sheep. Baa, baa!

Enter Justice Mittimus, and Kate.

Just. Poor fellow! like to die, you say?

Kate. Yes, your worship. O dear! (Crying.)

[Exit.

Just. Well, well; comfort yourself: remember, you was only married yesterday.

Kate. That's the very thing, sir; if he had but lived a little longer, I should not have cared so much about it; but to be cut off just in the honey-moon, is very hard. Oh, oh, oh! But I am not revengeful, and your worship knows how much I love my master's daughter, Harriet; and Charles, Mr. Snarl's son, is in love with her; but his father won't agree to the match.

Just. O! I understand you. So, you'll hush up matters, provided he'll agree to the marriage? Well, what say you, neighbour Scout!

Scout. Why-why, I don't know what to say to it. As you all seem willing to settle the business, I don't like to stand out, and so I agree to it. But I think, your worship, I had better go in and fill the blanks of a bond, and make him sign it, or, when all is over, he'll retract from his word. Just. Well, do so. Here he comes. Go, go!

[Exeunt Scout and Kate.

Enter Snarl and two Constables.

So, neighbour Snarl, I find that the blows you gave the poor fellow on the head have occasioned his death.

Snarl. O, the deuse!

Just. But, harkye! neighbour, I have got a proposal to make, which, perhaps, may not be disagreeable to you: your son Charles, it seems, is in love with Harriet, lawyer Scout's daughter. Now, I believe Sheepface's wife would hush up matters, provided you'll consent to the match.

Snarl. Consent! Why, I suppose I must, in order to save myself from further expense. A very pretty day's work I have made on't, truly!

Enter Scout, with the bond.

Scout. Here, your worship, I've filled up a bond, in order that he may sign whatever is agreed to. How d'ye do, neighbour Snarl? I always cut my coatSnarl. According to my cloth.

Just. Come, come; sign, sign! (Snarl signs the bond.) Enter Charles and Sheepface.

Snarl. Heyday! what the plague! are you not dead? Sheep. No; your worship could never beat such a thing into my head.

Charles. Dear sir, don't be angry; Sheepface has done nothing but by my directions; and I hope you will not only forgive him, but enable me, by your future generosity, to provide for ourselves henceforward.

Sheep. Do take back one of your best sheep.

Scout. Well, as we have settled our own affairs thus far, we must now appeal to the tribunal, and humbly ask their permission for the Village Lawyer to continue in practice. [Exeunt. ANONYMOUS

181.-SCENE FROM THE HONEY-MOON.

SCENE.-The Duke's Palace.

Enter Campillo, the Duke's Steward, and another Servant.

Serv. BUT can no one tell the meaning of this fancy? Camp. No: 'tis the duke's pleasure, and that's enough for us. You shall hear his own words :

For reasons, that I shall hereafter communicate, it is necessary that Jaquez should, in all things, at present, act as my representative: you will, therefore, command

my household to obey him as myself, until you hear further from (Signed) ARANZA. Serv. Well, we must wait the upshot. But how bears Jaquez his new dignity?

Camp. Like most men in whom sudden fortune combats against long established habit. (Laughing without.) Serv. By their merriment, this should be he. Camp. Stand aside, and let us note him.

Enter Jaquez, dressed as the Duke, followed by six Attendants, who in vain endeavour to restrain their laughter.

[Exit Servant. Jaquez. Why, you ragamuffins! what d'ye titter at? Am I the first great man that has been made off-hand by a tailor? Show your grinders again, and I'll hang you like onions, fifty on a rope. I can't think what they see ridiculous about me, except, indeed, that I feel as if I was in armour, and my sword has a trick of getting between my legs, like a monkey's tail, as if it was determined to trip up my nobility. And now, villains! don't let me see you tip the wink to each other, as I do the honours of my table. If I tell one of my best stories, don't any of you laugh before the jest comes out, to show that you have heard it before: take care that you don't call me by my Christian name, and then pretend it was by accident; that shall be transportation at least: and when I drink a health to all friends, don't fancy that any of you are in the number.

Well, sir?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. There is a lady without, presses vehemently to speak to your grace.

Jaquez. A lady?

Serv. Yes, your highness.

Jaquez. Is she young

?

Serv. Very, your grace!

Jaquez. Handsome?

Serv. Beautiful, your highness!

Jaquez. Send her in.-[Exit Servant.]-You may retire; I'll finish my instructions by-and-by. Young and handsome! I'll attend to her business in propriâ persona. Your old and ugly ones I shall despatch by deputy. Now to alarm her with my consequence, and then soothe her

with my condescension. I must appear important; big as a country pedagogue, when he enters the school-room with- -a hem! and terrifies the apple-munching urchins with the creaking of his shoes. I'll swell like a shirt bleaching in a high wind; and look burly as a Sunday beadle, when he has kicked down the unhallowed stall of a profane old apple-woman. Bring my chair of state! Hush!

Enter Juliana.

Jul. I come, great duke, for justice!
Jaquez. You shall have it.

Of what do you complain?

Jul. My husband, sir!

Jaquez. I'll hang him instantly! What's his offence? Jul. He has deceived me.

Jaquez. A very common case; few husbands answer their wives' expectations.

Jul. He has abused your grace.

Jaquez. Indeed! if he has done that, he swings most loftily. But how, lady, how?

Jul. Shortly thus, sir:

Being no better than a low-born peasant,

He has assumed your character and person.

Enter Duke Aranza.

O! you are here, sir? This is he, my lord.

Jaquez. Indeed! (Aside.) Then I must tickle him. Why, fellow, d'ye take this for an ale-house, that you enter with such a swagger? Know you where you are, sir? Duke. The rogue reproves me well! (Aside.) I had forgot.

Most humbly I entreat your grace's pardon,

For this unusher'd visit; but the fear

Of what this wayward woman might allege

Beyond the truth

Jul. I have spoke naught but truth.

Duke. Has made me thus unmannerly.

Jaquez. 'Tis well. You might have used more cere

mony.

Proceed.

Jul. This man, my lord, as I was saying, Passing himself upon my inexperience

(To Juliana.)