In rural sports I gain'd the prize, Lost to myself, to mirth, and ease. Bel. To what motive do I owe this tender attention? Ros. Ah, sir! do not the whole village love you? Nor charms the eye, nor shades the swain. I Since the sun rose, I have been in continual exercise; I feel exhausted, and will try to rest a quarter of an hour on this bank. [Lies down on a Bank by the Fountain. Gleaners pass the Stage, with sheaves of Corn on their Heads; last ROSINA, who comes forward singing. AIR.-ROSINA. Light as thistle-down moving, which floats on Sweet gratitude's debt to this cottage I bear: heart. Bel. You tremble; why are you alarm'd? DUETT.-BELVILLE and ROSINA. Bel. [Taking her Hand] For you, my sweet maid, nay, be not afraid, [Ros, withdraws her Hand. feel an affection which yet wants a name. Ros. When first-but in vain-I seek to explain, What heart but must love you? I blush, fear, and shame Bel. Why thus timid, Rosina? still safe by my side, Let me be your guardian, protector, and guide, Be you my protector, my guardian, my guide. Ros. My timid heart pants, etc. Bel. Unveil your mind to me, Rosina. The graces of your form, the native dignity of What do I see? Mr. Belville asleep? I'll your mind which breaks through the lovely steal softly-at this moment I may gaze on simplicity of your deportment, a thousand him without blushing. [Lays down the Corn, circumstances concur to convince me you and walks softly up to him] The sun points were not born a villager. full on this spot; let me fasten these branches Ros. To you, sir, I can have no reserve. together with this riband, and shade him from A pride, I hope an honest one, made me its beams-yes-that will do-But if he should wish to sigh in secret over my misfortunes. wake-[Takes the Riband from her Bosom, Bel. [Eagerly] They are at an end. and ties the Branches together] How my Ros. Dorcas approaches, sir! she can best heart beats! One look more- Ah! I have relate my melancholy story. wak'd him. [She flies, and endeavours to hide her- [Half raising himself. Bel. This riband I have seen before, and on the lovely Rosina's bosom Enter DORCAS. Dor. His honour here? Good lack! How sorry I am I happen'd to be from home. Troth, I'm sadly tir'd. Bel. Will you let me speak with you a moment alone, Dorcas? Dor. Rosina, take this basket. [Exit Rosina, with the Basket. Bel. Rosina has referr'd me to you, Dor[He rises, and goes toward the Cottage. cas, for an account of her birth, which I have Ros. I will hide myself in the house. [Ro-long suspected to be above her present situasina, opening the Door, sees Capt. Belville, tion. Her mo and starts back] Heavens! a man in the house! Dor. To be sure, your honour, since the Capt. B. Now, love assist me! dear child gives me leave to speak, she's of as [Comes out and seizes Rosina; she breaks good a family as any in England. from him, and runs affrighted across ther, sweet lady, was my bountiful old master's the Stage; Belville follows; Captain daughter, squire Welford, of Lincolnshire. His Belville, who comes out to pursue her, estate was seiz'd for a mortgage of not half sees his Brother, and steals off at the its value, just after young madam was other Scene; Belville leads Rosina back. ried, and she ne'er got a penny of her porBel. Why do you fly thus, Rosina? What tion. can you fear? You are out of breath. Bel. And her father? mar Ros. O, sir!-my strength fails-[Leans Dor. Was a brave gentleman too, a coloon Belville, who supports her in his Arms] nel. His honour went to the Eastern Indies, Where is he?—A gentleman pursued me- to better his fortune, and madam would go [Looking round. with him. The ship was lost, and they, with Bel. Don't be alarm'd, 'twas my brother-all the little means they had, went to the he could not mean to offend you. bottom. Young madam Rosina was their onRos. Your brother! Why then does he ly child; they left her at school; but when not imitate your virtues? Why was he here? this sad news came, the mistress did not care Bel. Forget this: you are safe. But tell me, for keeping her, so the dear child has shar'd Rosina, for the question is to me of import- my poor morsel. ance, have I not seen you wear this riband? Ros. Forgive me, sir; I did not mean to disturb you. I only meant to shade you from the too great heat of the sun, of Bel. But her father's name? Dor. Martin; colonel Martin. Bel. I am too happy; he was the friend my father's heart: a thousand times have I heard him Jament his fate. Rosina's virtues offended almost past forgiveness. Will the shall not go unrewarded. offer of my hand repair the injury? Dor. Yes, I know'd it would be so. Heaven never forsakes the good man's children. Bel. I have another question to ask you, Dorcas, and answer my sincerely, is her heart free? Bel. If Rosina accepts it, I am satisfied. Ros. [To Belville] Will you, sir, suffer? -This hope is a second insult. Whoever offends the object of his love is unworthy of obtaining her. Bel. This noble refusal paints your charac Dor. To be sure, she never would let any of our young men come a near her; and yet-ter. I know another, Rosina, who loves you Bel. Speak: I am on the rack. with as strong, though purer ardour:-but if Dor. I'm afeard-she mopes and she pines allowed to hopeBut your honour would be angry – I'm afeard the captain Ros. Do not, sir, envy me the calm delight of passing my independent days with Dorcas; in whom I have found a mother's [Aside. tenderness. Bel. Then my foreboding heart was right. Enter RUSTIC. Rust. Help, for heaven's sake, sir! Rosina's lost-she is carried away→ Bel. Rosina! Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE. Capt. B. [Confusedly] Don't be alarmedlet me go-I'll fly to save her. Bel. With me, sir-I will not lose sight of you. Rustic, hasten instantly with our reapers. Dorcas, you will be our guide. [Exit. Rust. Don't be frightened, sir; the Irishmen have rescued her: she is just here. Enter the Two Irishmen. Dor. Bless thee, my child; thy kindness melts my heart. Bel. Do you refuse me too then, Rosina? [Rosina raises her Eyes tenderly on Belville, lowers them again, and leans on Dorcas. Dor. You, sir? You? Ros. My confusion-my blushes- Pho. I am asham'd-William and I, your honour-William pray'd me to let him keep [Exit. me company-so he gain'd my good will to have him; if so be my grandmother consents. 1 Irish. [To Dorcas] Dry your tears, my jewel; we have done for them. Dor. Have you sav'd her? I owe you more than life. [Courtesying, and playing with her Apron. Will. If your honour would be so good to speak to Dorcas. Bel. Dorcas, you must not refuse me any thing to-day. I'll give William a farm. Dor Your honour is too kind-take her, William, and make her a good husband. Will. That I will, dame. Will. Pho. [To Belville] Thank your honour. Belville joins their Hands, they bow and courtesey. 1 Irish. Faith, good woman, you owe me Re-enter RUSTIC, leading ROSINA, who throws Capt. B. I confess my crime; my passion Will. What must I do with the purse, your honour? Dorcas would not take it. Bel. I believe my brother has the best right. Capt. B. 'Tis yours, William; dispose of it Will. Then I'll give it to our honest Irishmen, who fought so bravely for our Rosina. Bel. You have made good use of it, William; nor shall my gratitude stop here. Capt. B. Allow me to retire, brother. When I am worthy of your esteem, I will return, and demand my rights in your affection. Bel. You must not leave us, brother. Resume the race of honour; be indeed a snldier, and be more than my brother-be my friend. Be. FINALE. To bless, and to be blest, be ours, Whate'er our rank, whate'er our powers; Capt. B. On some her gifts kind fortune showers, Who reap, like us, in this rich scene. Capt. B. Yet those who taste her bounty less Comic Opera, by Isaak Bickerstaff. Acted 1769, at Covent Garden. This performance, though compiled from Charles Johnson's Village Opera, Wycherley's Gentleman Dancing-Master, Marivaux's Jeu de l'Amour et du Hasard, and other musical pieces, yet met with so much favour from the town, that it was acted the first season almost as many times as The Beggar's Opera had formerly been, and nearly with as much success. It certainly has the merit of being inoffensive in its tendency, probable in its incidents, spirited in its action, agreeable for its ease and regularity, and natural in the delineation of character. ம் ACT I. SCENE I-4 Garden, with Statues, Fountains, and Flower-pots. Several Arbours appear in the side Scenes; ROSETTA and LUCINDA are discovered at work, seated upon two Garden-chairs. DUETT. Ros. HOPE! thou nurse of young desire, Painted vapour, glowworm fire, Both. Kind deceiver, flatter still, Deal out pleasures unpossest; Luc. Heigho!-Rosetta! Ros. Well, child, what do you say y? For shame, you a lover! Take courage, nor here longer mope; Run riot, like me, And, to perfect the picture, elope. Luc. Here's my hand; positively I'll follow it-I have already sent to my gentleman, who. is now in the country, to let him know he may come hither this day; we will make use of the opportunity to settle all preliminaries— And then-But take notice, whenever we decamp, you march off along with us. Ros. Oh! madam, your servant; I have no inclination to be left behind, I assure youBut you say you got acquainted with this spark, while you were with your mother during her last illness at Bath, so that your father has never seen him. Luc. Never in his life, my dear; and, I am confident, he entertains not the least suspicion Luc. Tis a sad thing to live in a village a of my having any such connexion: my aunt, hundred miles from the capital, with a pre- indeed, has her doubts and surmises; but, beposterous gouty father, and a superannuated sides that my father will not allow any one maiden aunt.-I am heartily sick of my situation. to be wiser than himself, it is an established Ros. And with reason-But 'tis in a great maxim between these affectionate relations, measure your own fault: here is this Mr. never to agree in any thing. Eustace, a man of character and family; he Ros. Except being absurd; you must allow likes you, you like him: you know one another's minds, and yet you will not resolve to make yourself happy with him. AIR. Whence can you inherit Confin'd thus, and chain'd to a log! Tis leading the life of a dog. they sympathize perfectly in that- But, now we are on the subject, I desire to know what I am to do with this wicked_old_justice of peace, this father of yours? He follows me about the house like a tame goat. Luc. Nay, I'll assure you he hath been a wag in his time-you must have a care of yourself. Ros. Wretched me! to fall into such hands, who have been just forced to run away from my parents to avoid an odious marriage You smile at that now; and I know you think me whimsical, as you have often told me; but you must excuse my being a little over-delicate in this particular. AIR. My heart's my own, my will is free, And is there then no saving clause, Luc. Well, but my dear, mad girl Ros. Indeed, Lucinda, you are very silly. Luc. Indeed, Rosetta, that blush makes you look very handsome. Ros. Blush! I am sure I don't blush. Ros. Pshaw! Lucinda, how can you be so ridiculous? Luc. Well, don't be angry, and I have doneBut suppose you did like him, how could you help yourself? [Exeunt into an Arbour. Enter young MEADOWS. Young M. Let me see-on the fifteenth of June, at half an hour past five in the morning, [Taking out a Pocket-book] I left my father's Ros. Lucinda, don't talk to me-Was your house unknown to any one, having made free father to go to London; meet there by acci- with a coat and jacket of our gardener's that dent with an old fellow as wrong-headed as fitted me, by way of a disguise; so says my himself; and, in a fit of absurd friendship, pocket-book: and chance directing me to this agree to marry you to that old fellow's son, village, on the twentieth of the same month whom you had never seen, without consulting I procured a recommendation to the worshipyour inclinations, or allowing you a negative, ful justice Woodcock, to be the superintendant in case he should not prove agreeable — of his pumpkins and cabbages, because I would Luc. Why I should think it a little hard, let my father see, I chose to run any lengths, I confess yet, when I see you in the charac- rather than submit to what his obstinacy would ter of a chambermaidhave forced me, a marriage against my in Ros. Is is the only character, my dear, in clination, with a woman I never saw. [Puts which I could hope to lie concealed; and, I up the Book, and takes up a Wateringcan tell you, I was reduced to the last ex- pot] Here I have been three weeks, and in tremity, when, in consequence of our old that time I am as much altered as if I had boarding-school friendship, I applied to you to changed my nature with my habit.-'Sdeath, receive me in this capacity; for we expected to fall in love with a chambermaid: And yet, the parties the very next week. if I could forget that I am the son and heir of Sir William Meadows. But that's impossible. Luc. But had not you a message from your intended spouse, to let you know he was as little inclined to such ill-concerted nuptials as you were? Ros. More than so; he wrote to advise me, by all means, to contrive some method of breaking them off; for he had rather return to his dear studies at Oxford: and, after that, what hopes could I have of being happy with bim? Luc. Then you are not at all uneasy at the strange rout you must have occasioned at home? I warrant, during this month you have been absent AIR. O! had I been by fate decreed My sheep upon the plain; My fair one's lot so low? Ha! who was it I had a glimpse of as I pass'd by that arbour? Was it not she sat reading there? the trembling of my heart tells me my eyes were not mistaken-Here she comes. [Retires. Rosella comes down from the Arbour. Ros. Oh! don't mention it, my dear; I have had so many admirers, since I commenced Abigail ), that I am quite charmed with my situation-But hold, who stalks yonder in the Ros. Lucinda was certainly in the right of yard, that the dogs are so glad to see? it; and yet I blush to own my weakness even Luc. Daddy Hawthorn, as I live! He is to myself - Marry, hang the fellow for not come to pay my father a visit; and never being a gentleman. more luckily, for he always forces him abroad. Young M. I am determined I won't speak By the way, what will you do with yourself to her. [Turning to a Rose-tree, and plucking while I step into the house to see after my the Flowers] Now or never is the time to trusty messenger, Hodge? conquer myself: besides, I have some reason Ros. No matter; I'll sit down in that arbour, to believe the girl has no aversion to me: and, and listen to the singing of the birds: you as I wish not to do her an injury, it would know I am fond of melancholy amusements. be cruel to fill her head with notions of what Luc. So it seems, indeed: sure, Rosetta, can never happen. [Hums a Tune] Pshaw! none of your admirers had power to touch rot these roses, how they pick one's fingers! your heart; you are not in love, I hope? Ros. He takes no notice of me; but so Ros. In love! that's pleasant: who do you much the better; I'll be as indifferent as he suppose I should be in love with, pray? is. I am sure the poor lad likes me; and if Luc. Why, let me see- -What do you think I was to give him any encouragement, I supof Thomas, our gardener? There he is at the pose the next thing he talked of would be other end of the walk - He's a pretty young buying a ring, and being asked in churchman, and the servants say, he's always writing Oh, dear pride, I thank you for that thought. verses on you. 1) Servant-maid. Young M. Hah, going without a word! a look!-I can't bear that-Mrs. Rosetta, I am gathering a few roses here, if you please to take them in with you. Ros. Thank you, Mr. Thomas, but all my lady's flower-pots are full. Haw. Am I here? Yes: and, if you had been where I was three hours ago, you would find the good effects of it by this time: but you have got the lazy, unwholesome, London Young M. Will you accept of them for fashion of lying abed in a morning, and there's yourself, then? [Catching hold of her] What's gout for you-Why, sir, I have not been in the matter? you look as if you were angry bed five minutes after sunrise these thirty with me. Ros. Pray let go my hand. Young M. Nay, pr'ythee, why is this? you shan't go, I have something to say to you. Ros. Well, but I must go, I will go; I desire, Mr. Thomas AIR. Gentle youth, ah, tell me why years, am generally up before it; and I never took a dose of physic but once in my life, and that was in compliment to a cousin of mine, an apothecary, that had just set up business. Jus. W. Well but, master Hawthorn, let me tell you, you know nothing of the matter; for, I say, sleep is necessary for a man; ay, and I'll maintain it. Haw. What, when I maintain the contrary?-Look you, neighbour Woodcock, you are a rich man, a man of worship, a justice of peace, and all that; but learn to know the respect that is due to the sound from the in[Exit. firm; and allow me that superiority a good Young M. This girl is a riddle-That she constitution gives me over you-Health is the loves me I think there is no room to doubt; greatest of all possessions; and 'tis a maxim she takes a thousand opportunities to let me with me, that a hale cobler is a better man see it: and yet, when I speak to her, she will than a sick king. hardly give me an answer; and, if I attempt Jus. W. Well, well, you are a sportsman. the smallest familiarity, is gone in an instant- Haw. And so would you be too, if you I feel my passion for her grow every day would take my advice. A sportsman! why more and more violent-Well, would I marry there is nothing like it: I would not exchange her? - would I make a mistress of her if the satisfaction I feel, while I am beating the could? Two things, called prudence and lawns and thickets about my little farm, for honour, forbid either. What am I pursuing, all the entertainment and pageantry in Christthen? A shadow. Sure my evil genius laid endom. this snare in my way. However, there is one comfort, it is in my power to fly from it; if so, why do I hesitate? I am distracted, unable to determine any thing. SCENE II.-A Hall in JUSTICE WOODCOCK'S Enter HAWTHORN, with a Fowlingpiece in Girdle. AIR. There was a jolly miller once, Liv'd on the river Dee; AIR. Let gay ones and great, Make the most of their fate, Hodge. Did your worship call, sir? Jus. W. Call, sir; where have you and the rest of these rascals been? but I suppose I need not ask - You must know there is a statute, a fair for hiring servants, held upon my green to-day; we have it usually at this season of the year, and it never fails to put He work'd and sung from morn till night; all the folks hereabout out of their senses. No lark more blithe than be. And this the burthen of his song, For ever us'd to be I care for nobody, not I, If no one cares for me. House, here, house! what all gadding, all abroad! house, I say, hilli-ho, ho! Jus. W. [Without] Here's a noise, here's a racket! William, Robert, Hodge! why does not somebody answer? Odds my life, I believe the fellows have lost their hearing! Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK. Hodge. Lord, your honour, look out, and see what a nice show they make yonder; they had got pipers, and fiddlers, and were dancing as I came along, for dear life I never saw such a mortal throng in our village in all my born days again. Haw. Why, I like this now, this is as it should be. Jus. W. No, no, 'tis a very foolish piece of business; good for nothing but to promote idleness and the getting of bastards: but I shall take measures for preventing it another year, and I doubt whether I am not sufficiently Ob, master Hawthorn! I guessed it was some authorized already; for by an act passed Anno such madcap-Are you there? undecimo Caroli primi, which empowers a |