remember, I still preserve my veto.

_Capt. Mer._ My dear Etheridge, with your permission, I will not advise
at all. Your father tried in the same lottery and drew a blank; you may
gain the highest prize; but my hopes with your sister render it a most
delicate subject for my opinion. Your own sense must guide you.

_Capt. Eth._ Unfortunately it often happens, that when a man takes his
feelings for a guide, he walks too fast for good sense to keep pace with
him.

_Capt. Mer._ At all events, be not precipitate; and do not advance one
step, which, as a man of honour, you may not retrace.

_Capt. Eth._ I will not, if I can help it. But here comes Mr Harness.

_Enter Landlord._

_Land._ The horses are to, Captain Etheridge, and the wheel is in order.

_Capt. Eth._ Come then, Edward, we shall not be long getting over these
last eight miles. The boys know me well.

_Capt. Mer._ (_Going out_). Yes, and the length of your purse, I
suspect, my dear fellow. (_Exeunt ambo._)

_Scene II._

_A Wood in the back-ground, Gipsies' tents, etc. Gipsies come forward,
group themselves, and sing._

The king will have his tax,
Tithes to parsons fall,
For rent the landlord racks,
The tenant cheats them all;
But the gipsy's claim'd right is more ancient yet,
And that right he still gains by the help of his wit.

_Chorus (joining hands)._

Then your hands right and left, see saw,

(_All turn._)

Turn your backs on the church and the law;
Search all the world through,
From the king on his throne,
To the beggar--you'll own
There are none like the gipsy crew.
Wherever we rove,
We're sure to find home;
In field, lane, or grove,
Then roam, boys, roam!
'Tis only when walls his poor body surround,
That homeless a free roving gipsy is found.

(_Chorus as before._)

[_Exeunt all the gipsies except Nelly, who, with Bill, comes forward;
Bill, with a bundle on a pitchfork, over his shoulder. Throws down
the bundle, and takes out a turkey._

_Nelly._ Is that all that thou hast gathered?

_Bill._ All! Enough too, did ye know the sarcumstances. Travelled last
night good twelve miles before I could light on this here cretur. Never
seed such a scarcity o' fowl. Farmers above tending sich like things
now-a-days, dom pride! says I.

_Nelly._ But what kept ye out till morning?