Sir Per. What a rigorous, saucy, stiff-necked rascal it is!  I see my folly now.—­I am undone by mine ain policy.—­This Sidney is the last man that shou’d have been about my son:—­The fellow, indeed, hath given him principles, that might have done vary weel among the ancient Romans,—­but are damn’d unfit for the modern Britons.—­Weel, guin I had a thousand sons, I never wou’d suffer one of these English, university-bred fellows to be about a son of mine again;—­for they have sic an a pride of literature and character, and sic saucy, English notions of liberty continually fermenting in their thoughts, that a man is never sure of them.  Now, if I had had a Frenchman, or a foreigner of any kind, about my son, I cou’d have pressed him at once into my purpose,—­or have kicked the rascal out of my house in a twinkling.—­But what am I to do?—­Zoons! he must nai marry this beggar;—­I cannot sit down tamely under that.—­Stay,—­ haud a wee.—­By the blood, I have it.—­Yes—­I have hit upon it.—­I’ll have the wench smuggled till the highlands of Scotland to-morrow morning.—­Yes, yes,—­I’ll have her smuggled—­

    Enter BETTY HINT.

Bet. O! sir,—­I have got the whole secret out.

Sir Per. About what?

Bet. About Miss Constantia.  I have just got all the particulars from farmer Hilford’s youngest daughter, Sukey Hilford.

Sir Per. Weel, weel, but what is the story?  Quick, quick—­what is it?

Bet. Why, sir, it is certain that Mrs. Constantia has a sweetheart—­or a husband,—­a sort of a gentleman—­or a gentleman’s gentleman, they don’t know which—­that lodges at Gaffer Hodges’s—­and it is whispered all about the village that she is with child by him; for Sukey says she saw them together last night in the dark walk—­and Mrs. Constantia was all in tears.

Sir Per. Zoons!  I am afraid this is too guid news to be true.

Bet. O! sir, ’tis certainly true, for I myself have observed that she has looked very pale for some time past—­and could not eat,—­and has qualms every hour of the day.—­Yes, yes, sir—­depend upon it, she is breeding, as sure as my name is Betty Hint..—­Besides, sir, she has just writ a letter to her gallant, and I have sent John Gardener to her, who is to carry it to him to Hadley.—­Now, sir, if your worship would seize it—­ See, see, sir,—­here John comes with the letter in his hand.

Sir Per. Step you out, Betty, and leave the fellow till me.

Bet. I will, sir. [Exit.

    Enter JOHN, with a Packet and a Letter.

John. [Putting the packet into his pocket.] There—­go you into my pocket.—­There’s nobody in the library, so I’ll e’en go thro’ the short way.—­Let me see, what is the name?—­Mel—­Meltil—­O, no!—­Melville, at Gaffer Hodges’s.

Sir Per. What letter is that, sir?

John. Letter,sir!