| Old Eustace | Mr. Blanchard. |
| Charles, (his son) | Mr. Cooper. |
| Ignatius Polyglot | Mr. W. Farren. |
| Robin | Mr. Meadows. |
| Master Frederick | |
| Harriet | Miss A. Jones. |
| Molly Maggs | Miss Jones. |
Scene—Polyglot’s study. A door on each side, conducting to other apartments. An opening to the garden, at the back of the stage. Another door leading to the interior of the house. Globes, books, maps, &c. are scattered about.
Robin. ’Tis an extraordinary thing, that, do what I will, I can’t make myself sensible. I turn the world topsy-turvy for hours together, as I see my young master, Mr. Charles, do; like Mr. Ignatius Polyglot, his tutor, I sometimes look into a book full of Greek or Latin; but all to no purpose. Ah! Mr. Polyglot must be in the right: he can’t bear the sight of a woman in the house, for fear Mr. Charles should fall in love, and neglect his studies; and, for my part, I’m sure that, if all the Greek I have got in my pocket (shewing a book) were cramm’d into my head, one thought of my sweet little Somersetshire lass, Molly Maggs, would drive it out again.
Molly. Hist! hist! Robin!
Robin. What! my dear Molly! You may come in.
Molly. I’m afeard, Robin.
Robin. There’s nothing to be afraid of just now.
Molly. Where’s Mr. Ignoramus, the tutorer, then?
Robin. Mr. Ignatius you mean. He’s out, taking his evening’s walk.
Molly. Be he? I hope he be gone down towards the little bridge.
Robin. Why?
Molly. The last time he went that way, he were so busy at what he called soldering a problem, that he stumbled over into the brook. If I had been in your place, Robin, before I pulled him out again I’d ha’ made him promise to consent to our marriage, or I’d ha’ let him bide there till doomsday.
Robin. Molly, Molly, you don’t like Mr. Polyglot.
Molly. Why don’t he like me then?
Robin. It is not you alone, but he would dislike any other young maiden about the house the same.
Molly. And what for? there’s no reason in that. Am I to blame? I’m sure ’tis no fault of mine, Robin, that I’m a young maiden. Ha! ha! ha! A pretty to-do there’d be if he should catch me here—in his own apartments too!
Robin. So there would. I tremble to think of it; and so, Molly, you’d better—
Molly. I don’t care: if he says any thing to me, I’ll give him his own. Besides, our master, old Master Eustace, will be home in a few days, and we’ll ask his leave to be married, in spite of old tutorer.
Robin. No, no, we must not displease him; he’s steward as well as tutorer, and—
Molly. He’ll discharge us? let him. I’m not afeard of wanting a service. I have relations who are up in the world. I’m first cousin to Sally Maggs, who is head chambermaid at the Bell, at Winchester—Chattering Sally, as they call her, and well they may, for she is chatter, chatter, chatter—
Robin. In that respect, Molly, you don’t disgrace the relationship.
Molly. Discharge us, indeed! the sooner the better; we may then get married when we please. What does the foolish old chap mean by not liking folks to marry? I wish his father had been of the same mind, and then Mr. Ignoramus would not have been here to torment us.
Robin. Well, well, though he is a little crabbed and sour, he’s a good old soul at bottom. He’d go through fire and water to serve young Master Charles.
Molly. With a vengeance! Poor young gentleman! he’s grown as melancholy as a willow tree: and no wonder: at four-and-twenty to be kept in leading-strings like a baby! But no good will come of it, see if there do; and I wish that Master Charles would give him the slip one of these days, on purpose to plague him. O, if I could but catch the old one doing any thing amiss—
Robin.