_Sid._ Though my conduct, sir, should not make me rise in her power, I am sure it will in her favour, in the favour of my own conscience too, and in the esteem of all worthy men;--and that, sir, is a power and dignity beyond what patrons, or any minister can bestow. [_Exit._ _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.