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Morton, Thomas, 1764-1838

"Speed the Plough A Comedy, In Five Acts; As Performed At The Theatre Royal, Covent Garden"


_Gerald._ Sir Abel, you have lost five thousand pounds, and with it,
properly managed, an excellent wife, who, though I cannot condescend to
take again as mine--you may depend on't shall never trouble you. Come!
this way [_Beckoning to_ MRS. GERALD.]--important events now call on me,
and prevent my staying longer with this company. Sir Abel, we shall meet
soon. Nay, come, you know I'm not used to trifle; Come, come--[_She
reluctantly, but obediently, crosses the stage, and runs off_--GERALD
_follows._]
_Sir Abel._ [_Imitating._] Come, come--That's a damn'd clever fellow!
Joy, joy, my boy! Here, here, your hands--The first use I make of
liberty, is to give happiness--I wish I had more imitators--Well, what
will you do? [_Walks about exultingly._] Where will you go? I'll go any
where you like--Will you go to Bath, or Brighton, or Petersburgh, or
Jerusalem, or Seringapatam? all the same to me--we single fellows--we
rove about--nobody cares about us--we care for nobody.
_Handy, jun._ I must to the Castle, father.
_Sir Abel._ Have with you Bob. [_Singing._] "I'll sip every flower--I'll
change every hour.


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