 | Francis Beaumont |  |
Scene II.
—A high road.[Ralph Edwards alone.]
Edwards.
Three burglaries in one year, besides highway robbery
and petty larceny! This is pretty well. Am I not getting
too bold? But I was always a lucky dog. When I was at
school, I used to steal apples and gingerbread, and other boys
got whipped for it. But I've had a hard run for it this time
—thirty miles without stopping! And here I am, in the old
country again. Ha! let me see.—The last time I was about
here, I had a queer adventure. It must have been two or
I remember I got a bag of money about ten miles off—from an
old milkwoman. She didn't want exactly to give it me—but
I persuaded her by a little mild argument. I reached this
town very late. It must have been two or three in the
morning. What a fright I was in, when I heard the steps
behind me! I slunk into the hedge, and who should go by
but squire Beaumont's son? I knew him again. And then
up came that rascal, the steward—and a strange story he told
me—I didn't believe him, but I was glad to get off—I wonder
if he's been hanged yet—I heard he was to be.
[Enter two constables, unperceived by Edwards, who stand watching him, then look at a paper, and make signs to each other.]
I mustn't stop very long in this neighbourhood, for fear
of being known: though, to be sure, I never did much business
here but a little poaching. I wonder who those men were
that I saw in the Green Dragon. They looked rather hard at
me. I wasn't sorry to get out of their way. Now I'm safe.
I mean to get some refreshment at a place I know not
far from this town, where they give good accommodation for
travellers; then I shall start off early, and I calculate I shall
be far enough away by to-morrow evening. I must say, I've
managed matters pretty well. My father used to say, I should
be hanged or transported. I only wish he was alive, that he
might see the difference. When I've realised a fortune, I shall
just put myself into a steamer, and take my place for America;
and then I can set up for a gentleman.
[The constables come up, and place themselves on each side of him.]
Constable.
You're the man we're looking for.
Edwards.
I rather think not.
Constable.
Isn't your name Giles?
I rather think it's something different.
Constable.
What is it, then?
Edwards.
What's that to you?
Constable.
Come, come; we've got a warrant against you. We
know you.
Edwards.
Let me see it.
Constable.
That's very fine, I dare say. Didn't we see you at the
Green Dragon? And don't we know that you broke open
squire Morley's house. You'd better confess, and throw
yourself on the queen's mercy.
Edwards.
Come, gentlemen, mind what you're about. I'm a
respectable man, well known in these parts. Take care, or
you'll get yourselves into a scrape.
Constable.
Your name's Giles, and you must come with us. Take
him along, Jack.
Edwards.
My name's Edwards—Ralph Edwards—and if you don't
mind your own business—
Constable.
Well—Edwards or Giles—it's all the same. You'll go
to gaol. Come along.
Edwards.
This is the way they treat a hard-working man in a
free country. Damn such liberty, say I.
[They take him away.]
| Francis Beaumont | |