MARIAN
My father will kill me, if he finds you have been here!

DAVENPORT There is no time for explanations.  I have positive information that your father means, in less than a week, to dispose of you to that ugly Saunders.  The wretch has bragged of it to his acquaintance, and already calls you his.

MARIAN
O heavens!

DAVENPORT Your resolution must be summary, as the time which calls for it.  Mine or his you must be, without delay.  There is no safety for you under this roof.

MARIAN
My father—­

DAVENPORT
Is no father, if he would sacrifice you.

MARIAN
But he is unhappy.  Do not speak hard words of my father.

DAVENPORT
Marian must exert her good sense.

LUCY (As if watching at the window.) O, miss, your father has suddenly returned.  I see him with Mr. Saunders, coming down the street.  Mr. Saunders, ma’am!

MARIAN
Begone, begone, if you love me, Davenport.

DAVENPORT
You must go with me then, else here I am fixed.

LUCY
Aye, miss, you must go, as Mr. Davenport says.  Here is your cloak, miss,
and your hat, and your gloves.  Your father, ma’am—­

MARIAN
O, where, where?  Whither do you hurry me, Davenport?

DAVENPORT
Quickly, quickly, Marian.  At the back door.—­

[Exit Marian with Davenport, reluctantly; in her flight still holding the jewels.]

LUCY Away—­away.  What a lucky thought of mine to say her father was coming! he would never have got her off, else.  Lord, Lord, I do love to help lovers.

[Exit, following them.]

SCENE II.—­A Butcher’s Shop.

CUTLET.  BEN.

CUTLET
Reach me down that book off the shelf, where the shoulder of veal hangs.

BEN

Is this it?

CUTLET
No—­this is “Flowers of Sentiment”—­the other—­aye, this is a good book. 
“An Argument against the Use of Animal Food.  By J.R.” That means
Joseph Ritson.  I will open it anywhere, and read just as it happens.  One
cannot dip amiss in such books as these.  The motto, I see, is from Pope. 
I dare say, very much to the purpose. (Reads.)

      “The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
      Had he thy reason, would he sport and play? 
      Pleas’d to the last, he crops his flowery food,
      And licks the hand”—­

Bless us, is that saddle of mutton gone home to Mrs. Simpson’s?  It should have gone an hour ago.

BEN
I was just going with it.

CUTLET
Well go.  Where was I?  Oh!

      “And licks the hand just raised to shed its blood.”

What an affecting picture! (turns over the leaves, and reads).

“It is probable that the long lives which are recorded of the people before the flood, were owing to their being confined to a vegetable diet.”