_Enter, from the garden_, IGNATIUS POLYGLOT, _with a book_. ROBIN _runs off_. _Molly._ O, crimini! _Poly._ What do I behold! Under my nose! my very nose! here too! in my study, the sanctuary of science and of learning! _Molly._ Well, if nothing worse was ever learnt here, Mr. Ignoramus— _Poly._ Ignatius.—But what atonement can you make for this? _Molly._ Atonement! I’ve done nothing to atone for. _Poly._ Nothing! Do you call that nothing? Did I not see? Did I not hear? Nothing! _O tem_—but you don’t understand Latin. _Molly._ Latin, indeed! no, nor Greek neither; and I’m sure ’tis all Greek you are talking to me. What did you see? what did you hear? You heard Robin say good bye, that was all. _Poly._ Peace! I’m a linguist, and in none of the seventeen languages I’m acquainted with, does that mean good bye. _Molly._ Then I wouldn’t give seventeen figs to be as learned as you are, and your seventeen languages are not worth talking. _Poly._ To what is the poor youth exposed! Mischief! Serpent! Woman! I pity, and tremble for, the unfortunate lad. _Molly._ ’Tis a misfortune not likely to happen to you. _Poly._ But ’tis I alone who am to blame. I ought not to have allowed one of the deluding sex to approach those innocent and unsuspecting youths. Had my pupil, Charles, beheld this, it might have put things into his head, which—But there will yet be time to save them. To-morrow, at day-break, you will quit this house. _Molly._ Nay, and you wouldn’t be so cruel, Mr. Poll-parrot. _Poly._ Polyglot.—I have said it; reply not. _Molly._ I have not done any harm, and I’m sure I did not think any harm. ’Tis no fault of mine if Robin is in love with me: he fell in love of his own accord, indeed he did. _Poly._ Love! (_looks fearfully about._) Silence!—If Charles should hear that dangerous word—Retire—Withdraw—begone. _Molly._ (_Bursting into tears._) O dearee me! Pray, good, kind Mr. Ignoramus, forgive me this once. Would you have it upon your conscience to turn a poor lass out of her service, and send her upon the wide world without a friend to protect her? Would’ee now, Mr. Ignoramus, would’ee? _Poly._ Go away, my dear, and—No, I will not give way to the weakness of our common nature, but prove myself, in the discharge of my duty, inflexible as the first Brutus! _Molly._ And well you may call him so, if he was as stony-hearted as you are. Will you forgive me? _Poly._ No! _Molly._ You won’t? Nay, then, I’ll tell you a bit of my mind; I’ll do that, an’ I die for it. For all your grave looks, I’ll be sworn you are no better than your neighbours; I know you arn’t. I’ll pass my days in watching you, I will; and if ever I catch you saying “good bye,” as I know I shall, then, when you are in trouble, and in need of indulgence, you shall find me as pityless as yourself. There; carry that bundle upon your shoulders, and now—I’ll go and pack up mine.