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Of all the lives I ever led,

A sailor's life for me, Sir.

Yeo, yeo, yeo-Yeo, yeo, yed.
Whilst the boatswain pipes all hands.
With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir.

What girl but loves the merry tar?
We o'er the ocean roam, Sir:
In every clime we find a port,
In every port a home, Sir.
Yeo, yeo, yeo-&c. &c.

Our foes subdued, once more on shore,
We spend our cash with glee, Sir,
And when all's gone, we drown our care,
And out again to sea, Sir.

Yeo, yeo, yeo-Yeo, yeo', yeo.

And when all's gone, again to sea,
With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir.

Old P. So this is the way I am to be entertained in future, with forecastle jokes, and tarpauling songs.

Miss P. Brother, do not speak so harshly to the poor lad, he's among strangers, and wants encouragement-come to me, my pretty boy, I'll be your friend

Little P. [Going R. c. to Miss Pickle.] Friend! oh, what, you're my grandmother-father, must not I call her granne ?

Old P. (L.) What, he wants encouragement, sister-yes, poor soul, he's among strangers-he's found out one relation, however, sister-this boy's assurance diverts me—I like him [Aside.] ·

Little P. (R.) Granne's mortish cross and frumpish-la father, what makes your mother, there, look so plaguy foul weathered ?

Miss P. Mother, indeed.

Old P. Oh, nothing at all, my dear, she's the best humoured person in the world-go throw yourself at her feet, and ask her for her blessing-perhaps she may gi' you something.

Little P. A blessing! I shan't be much richer for that neither-perhaps she may give me half a crown: I'll throw myself at her feet, and ask her for a guinea—[kneels]— Dear granne, give me your picture? [Catches hold of it. Miss P. Stand off, wretch, am I to be robbed, as well as insulted?

C

Mar. Fie, child, learn to behave yourself better.

Little P. Behave myself-learn you to behave yourself, I should not have thought of you indeed-get you gonewhat do you here? [Crosses to und beats her out, and exit, L.

Old P. Well, sister, this plan of yours succeeds, I hope, to your satisfaction-he'll make a mighty pretty page, sister— what an engaging air he has, sister; this is some revenge for her treatment of my poor boy. [Aside. Miss P. I perceive this to be all a contrivance, and the boy is taught to insult me thus-you may repent of this unparalleled treatment of unprotected innocence.

[Exit, R.

Old P. What, she means her lover, the player-man, I suppose; but I'll watch her, and her consols too; and if I catch him again in my house, it shall be his last appearance this season, I can tell him that; and the next part he plays shall be Captain Macheath in the prison scene, egad. [Exit, L.

Re-enter LITTLE PICKLE, alone, L. 2nd E.

Little P. There they go, ha! ha ha! my scheme has gone on rarelv; rather better than theirs, I think.-Blessing on the old nurse for consenting to it-I'll teach 'em to turn people out of doors-let me see, what trick shall I play 'em now-suppose I set the house on fire-no-no'tis too soon for that as yet-that will do very well bye and bye-let me consider-I wish I could see my sister; I'll discover myself to her, and then we might contrive something together nicely-that staircase leads to her room: I'll try and call her [Goes to the door and listens] there's nobody in the way!-Hist! hist!-Maria-Maria-she hears me, she's coming this way. [Runs and hides himself.

Enter MARIA, R. D.

Mar. Sure somebody called me. [Looks around.] No, there's nobody here-heigho-I've almost cried myself blind about my poor brother, for so I shall always call him, ay, and love him too. [Going. Little P. [Running forward.] Maria!-sister!-stop an instant.

Mur. My brother!-Charles-impossible.

Little P. 'Tis e'en so, and faith 'twas all a trick about the nurse and child; I coax'd the old woman to confess the whole to me-you can't contrive to kill yourself for the loss of me, can you?-that would have a fine effect-is

there nothing I can think of ?—Suppose you pretend to fall in love with me, and we run away together.

Mar. That will do admirably-depend upon my playing my part with a good will, for I owe some revenge for their treatment of you; besides, you know I can refuse you nothing.

Enter OLD PICKLE, behind, L. U. E.

Little P. Thank you a thousand times, my dearest Maria thus then we'll contrive it.

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[Seeing Pickle coming behind, they pretend to whisper. Old P. What! how's this!"Dear Maria, and I'll refuse you nothing."-Death and the devil, my daughter has fallen in love with that young scoundrel and his yeo, yeo, yeo! [They embrace.]-she, too, embraces him[Comes forward, R.]-mighty well, young madam-'tis mighty well; but come, you shall be locked up immiediately, and you, you youug rascal, be whipt out of the house.

Little P. (L.) You will not be so hard-hearted, sure-we will not part-here is my anchor fixed-here am I moor'd for ever.

[Old Pickle takes hold of her, und endeavours to take her away; she resists, and Little Pickle detains her by the hund.]

Maria. (c.) [Romantically.] No-we'll never part—Oh, cruel, cruel fate.

Old P. (R.) He's infected her with his assurance already. What, you young minx, do you own you love him?

Maria. Love him, sir! I adore him, and in spite of your utmost opposition, ever, ever shall.

Old P. Oh, ruined! undone-what a wretched old man I am-but, Maria, child—

Maria. Think not to dissuade me, sir-vain attemptno, sir, my affections are fixed never to be recalled.

Old P. Oh dear, what shall I do? what will become of me? Oh, a plague on my plots-I've lost my daughter, and for ought I know, my son too-why, child, he's a poor beggar, he's not worth a sixpence.

Maria. My soul abhors so low a thought-I despise wealth-know, sir, I cherish nobler sentiments.

The generous youth shall own,

I love him for himself alone.

Old P. What, poetry, too-nay then, it is time to prevent

further mischief-go to your room-[Puts her over to R.] a good key shall assure your safety, and this young rascal shall go back to sea, and his yeo, yeo, yeo, if he will.

Maria. [Going.] I obey your harsh commands, sir, and am gone-but, alas! I leave my heart behind.

[Exit Maria, R.. Old P. Now, sir, for you-don't look so audacious, sirrah; don't fancy you belong to me I utterly disclaim you— Little P. [Laughing.] But that is too late now, old gentleman; you have publicly said I was your son, and d―n; me, I'll make you stand to it, sir. [Threatening. Old P. The devil-here is an affair!-John, Thomas, William !

Enter SUSAN, JOHN, and THOMAS, L.

Take that fellow, and turn him out of doors immediately -take him, I say

Servants. Fellow! who, sir?

Old P. Who! why, zounds, him there; don't you see. him?

John. What, my new young master-No, sir, I've turned out one already, I'll turn out no more.

Old P. He's not your young master-he's no son of mine -away with him, I say.

Susan. No, sir, we know our young master too well for all that; why he's as like your honour as one pea is like another.

John. Ay, heaven bless him, and may he shortly succeed your honour in your estate and fortune.

Old P. [In a passion, walking up and down.] Rogues! villains! I am abused, robbed-[Turns them out, L.] there's a conspiracy against me, and this little pirate is at the head of the gang.

Enter THOMAS, with a letter, L. which he gives to Old Pickle, and exit, L.

Odso, but here's a letter from my poor boy, I see-this is a comfort, indeed. Well, I'll send for him home now without delay. [Reads.] "Honoured sir, I heartily repent of having so far abused your goodness, whilst I was blest with your protection; but, as I fear no peuitence will ever restore me to your favour, I have resolved to put it out of my power again to offend you, by instantly bidding adieu to my country for ever." Here, John, run; go directly to Margery's and fetch home my son, and—

Little P. [Interrupting him.] You may save yourself the trouble, 'tis too late; you'll never bring him to now, make as many signals, or fire as many guns, as you please. Old P. What do you mean?

Little P. Mean? why he and I have changed berths, you know.

Old P. Changed berths!

Little P. Ay, I'm got into his hammock, and he's got into mine, that's all; he's some leagues off at sea, by this time, for the tide serves, and the wind is fair; Botany Bay's the word, my boys.

Old P. Botany Bay! well, I'll instantly see. If 'tis true, why, I'll come back, just to blow your brains out, and so be either hanged or sent to Botany Bay after him.

[Exeunt, different ways; Pickle, L. Little Pickle, R.

SCENE II-A Garden.-An Arbour with a seat in the C., shaded with Trees.

Enter Miss Pickle, r.

Miss P. This is the hour of my appointment with Mr. Tagg, and my brother's absence is favourable indeed-well, after such treatment, can he be surprised if I throw myself into the arms of so passionate an admirer? my fluttering heart tells me this is au important crisis in my happiness -how much these vile men have to answer for, in thus bewitching us silly girls.

TAGG repeats behind the Scenes, L. U. E.

The heavy hours are almost past
That part my love and me,

Enters, L. U. E.

My longing eyes may hope, at last,
Their only joy to see.

Thus, most charming of her sex, do I prostrate myself before the shrine of your beauty.

[Kneels. Miss P. (R.) Mr. Tagg, I fear I never can be yours. Tagg. (L.) Adorable, lovely, the most beautified Ophelia.

Miss P. Indeed, Mr. Tagg, you make me blush with your compliments.

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