DUETT.WILLIAM and PHOEBE. Will. I've kiss'd and I've prattled to fifty fair maids, And chang'd them as oft, d'ye see! the green, The maid of the mill for me. Pho. There's fifty young men have told me fine tales, And call'd me the fairest she: Young Harry's the lad for me. Dor. 'Tis very kind.-And old age- [Goes into the Cottage. Dor. I thought so.-Sure, sure, 'tis no sin to be old.. Capt. B. You must not judge of me by others, honest Dorcas. I am sorry for your misfortunes, and wish to serve you. Dor. And to what, your honour, may I owe this kindness? Capt. B. You have a charming daughterDor. I thought as much. A vile, wicked man! [Aside. Capt. B. Beauty like hers might find a thousand resources in London; the moment she appears there, she will turn every head. Dor. And is your honour sure her own Her face like the blossoms in May, Her breath like the new-made hay. poplar tree, His cheeks are as fresh as the rose; Capt. B. She shall live in affluence, and take care of you too, Dorcas. Dor. I guess your honour's meaning; but you are mistaken, sir. If I must be a trouble to the dear child, I had rather owe my bread to her labour than her shame. [Goes into the Cottage, and shuts the Door. Capt. B. These women astonish me; but I won't give it up so. Enter RUSTIC, crossing the Stage. ROSINA runs across the Stage; CAPTAIN A word with you, Rustic. BELVILLE following her. Capt. B. Stay and hear me, Rosina. Why I will you fatigue yourself thus? Only homely girls are born to work. Your obstinacy is vain; you shall hear me. Ros. Why do you stop me, sir? My time is precious. When the gleaning season is over, will you make up my loss? Capt. B. Yes. Ros. Will it be any advantage to you to make me lose my day's work? Capt. B. Yes. Ros. Would it give you pleasure to see me pass all my days in idleness? Capt. B. Yes. Ros. We differ greatly then, sir. I only wish for so much leisure as makes me return to my work with fresh spirit. We labour all the week, 'tis true; but then how sweet is our rest on Sunday! AIR. Whilst with village maids I stray, Cheerful glows my artless breast, Capt. B. Mere prejudice, child; you will Rust. I am in a great hurry, your honour; am going to hasten dinner. Capt. B. I shan't keep you a minute. Take these five guineas. Rust. For whom, sir? Capt. B. For yourself. And this purse. Capt. B. For Rosina; they say she is in distress, and wants assistance. Rust. What pleasure it gives me to see charitable! You are just like your you so Capt. B. Give her the money, and tell her know better. I pity you, and will make your she shall never want a friend; but not a word fortune. Ros. Let me call my mother, sir: I am young, and can support myself by my labour; but she is old and helpless, and your charity will be well bestow'd. Please to transfer to her the bounty you intended for me. Capt. B. Why-as to that Ros. I understand you, sir; your compassion does not extend to old women, Capt. B. Really-I believe not. Enter DORCAS. to my brother. Rust. All's safe, your honour. [Exit Capt. Belville I don't vastly like this business. At the captain's age, this violent charity is a little duberous 1). I am his honour's servant, and it's my duty to hide nothing from him. I'll go seek his honour; O, here he comes. Enter BELVILLE. Bel. Well, Rustic, have you any intelligence to communicate? Rust. A vast deal, sir. Your brother begins to make good use of his money; he bas Ros. You are just come in time, mother. given me these five guineas for myself, and I have met with a generous gentleman, whose this purse for Rosina. Bel. For Rosina! 'Tis plain he loves her. [Aside] Obey him exactly; but as distress renders the mind haughty, and Rosina's situation requires the utmost delicacy, contrive to execute your commission in such a manner that she may not even suspect from whence the money comes. Rust. Í understand your honour. Bel. Have you gain'd any intelligence in respect to Rosina? Rust. I endeavour'd to get all I could from the old woman's grand daughter; but all she knew was, that she was no kiu to Dorcas, and that she had had a good bringing-up; but here are the labourers. Enter DORCAS, ROSINA, and PHOEBE. Bel. But I don't see Rosina. Dorcas, you must come too, and Phoebe. Dor. We can't deny your honour. Ros. I am asham'd; but you command, sir. Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE, followed by the Reapers. FINALE. Bel. By this fountain's flow'ry side, Drest in nature's blooming pride, Taste our pleasures ye who may, Cho. Taste our pleasures ye who may, Capt. B. Blushing Bell, with downcast eyes, Vill. He is fond, and she is shy; He would kiss her!-fie!-oh, fie! Cho. Busy censors, hence, away; I'll Rust. This purse is the plague of my life: I hate money when it is not my own. e'en put in the five guineas he gave me for myself:. I don't want it, and they do. They certainly must find it there. But I hear the cottage-door open. [Retires a little. Enter DORCAS and ROSINA from the Cottage. DORCAS with a great Basket on her Arm, filled with Skeins of Thread. Dor. I am just going, Rosina, to carry this thread to the weaver's. Ros. This basket is too heavy for you: pray let me carry it. [Takes the Basket from Dorcas, and sels it down on the Bench. Dor. No, no. [Peevishly. Ros. If you love me, only take half; this evening, or to-morrow morning, I will carry the rest.-[Takes Part of the Skeins out of the Basket and lays them on the Bench, looking affectionately on Dorcas] There, be angry with me if you please. Dor. No, my sweet lamb, I am not angry; but beware of men. Ros. Have you any doubts of my conduct, Dorcas? Dor. Indeed I have not, love; and yet I am uneasy. Capt. B. [Aside, while Dorcas feels in her Pockets for the Key] Rosina to be at home before Dorcas! How lucky! I'll slip into the house, and wait her coming, if 'tis till midnight. [He goes unperceived by them into the Cottage. Dor. Let nobody go into the house. Ros. I'll take care; but first I'll double-lock the door. [While she is locking the Door, Dorcas, going to take up the Basket, sees the Purse. Dor. Good lack! What is here! a purse, as I live! Ros. How! Dor. Come, and see; 'tis a purse indeed. Ros. Heav'ns! 'tis full of gold. Dor. We must put up a bill at the churchgate, and restore it to the owner. The best way is to carry the money to his honour, and get him to keep it till the owner is found. You shall go with it, love. Ros. Pray excuse me, I always blush so. Dor. 'Tis nothing but childishness: but his honour will like your bashfulness better than too much courage. [Exit. Ros. I cannot support his presence-my embarrassment-my confusion-a stronger sensation than that of gratitude agitates my heart. -Yet hope in my situation were madness. AIR. Sweet transports, gentle wishes go! In vain his charms have gain'd my heart; Since fortune, still to love a foe, And cruel duty, bid us part. Ah! why does duty chain the mind, And part those souls which love has join'd?| Enter WILLIAM. Pray, William, do you know of any body that has lost a purse? Will. I knows nothing about it. Ros. Dorcas, however, has found one. Ros. You will oblige me very much if you will carry it to Mr. Belville, and beg him to keep it till the owner is found. Will. Since you desire it, I'll go: it shan't be the lighter for my carrying. Ros. That I am sure of, William. Enter PHOebe. [Exit. Pho. That's a copy of his countenance, I'm sartin; he can no more help following me nor he can be hang'd. [Aside. William crosses again, singing. Of all the fair maidens that dance on the green, The maid of the mill for me. Pha. I'm ready to choke wi' madness; but I'll not speak first, an I die for't. [William sings, throwing up his Stick and catching it. Will. Her eyes are as black as the sloc in the hedge, somer. Her face like the blossoms in May. Pho. I can't bear it no longer-you vile, ungrateful, parfidious-But it's no matterI can't think what I could see in you-Harry loves me, and is a thousand times more hand[Sings, sobbing at every Word. Of all the gay wrestlers that spost on the green, Young Harry's the lad for me. Will. He's yonder a reaping: shall I call him? [Offers to go. Pho. My grandmother leads me the life of a dog; and it's all along of you. Will. Well, then she'll be better temper'd now. Pho. I did not value her scolding of a brass farthing, when I thought as how you were true to me. If chance some fairing caught her eye, And gold, alas! has banish'd love. Will. [Coming back] Let's part friendly howsomever. Bye1), Phœbe: I shall always wish you well. Pho. Bye, William. [Cries, wiping her Eyes with her Apron. Will. My heart begins to melt a little. [Aside] I lov'd you very well once, Phœbe: but you are grown so cross, and have such vagaries Pha. I'm sure I never had no vagaries with you, William. But go; mayhap Kate may be angry. Will. And who cares for she? I never minded her anger, nor her coaxing neither, till you were cross to me. Pha. [Holding up her Hands] O the father! I cross to you, William? Will. Did not you tell me, this very morning, as how you had done wi' me? Pho. One word's as good as a thousand. Do you love me, William? Will. Do I love thee? Do I love dancing on the green better than thrashing in the barn? Do I love a wake; or a harvest-home? Pho. Then I'll never speak to Harry again the longest day I have to live. Will. I'll turn my back o'the miller's maid the first time I meet her. Pho. Will you indeed, and indeed? Will. Marry will I; and more nor that, I'll go speak to the parson this moment-I'm happier-zooks, I'm happier nor a lord or a squire of five hundred a year. DUETT. PHOEBE and WILLIAM. Pho. In gaudy courts, with aching hearts, The great at fortune rail: Will. Both. The hills may higher honours claim, But peace is in the vale. See high-born dames, in rooms of state, With midnight revels pale; No youth admires their fading charms, For beauty's in the vale, Amid the shades the virgin's sighs Add fragrance to the gale: So they that will may take the hill, [Exeunt, Arm in Arm. Enter BELVILLE. Bel. I tremble at the impression this lovely girl has made on my heart. My cheerfulness Will. Wasn't I true to you? Look in my has left me, and I am grown insensible even face, and say that. AIR. When bidden to the wake or fair, to the delicious pleasure of makinsg those happy who depend on my protection. AIR. Ere bright Rosina met my eyes, 1) Good bye,-shortened from good be with you. In rural sports I gain'd the prize, 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. To what motive do I owe this tender attention? Ros. Ah, sir! do not the whole village love you? 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. me you 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 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, and ties the Branches together] How my heart beats! One look more— -Ah! I have wak'd him. [She flies, and endeavours to hide her- [Half raising himself. Ros. He is angry-How unhappy I am![Aside. Bel. [Eagerly] They are at an end. Ros. Dorcas approaches, sir! she can best relate my melancholy story. 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. How I tremble! Bel. This riband I have seen before, and [Exit Rosina, with the Basket. on the lovely Rosina's bosomBel. 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. 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. Her mofrom 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 marother 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? 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? Bel. But her father's name? 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. Dor. Martin; colonel Martin. Bel. I am too happy; he was the friend of my father's heart: a thousand times have I heard him lament 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? any 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 of our young men come a near her; and yet-ter. I know another, Rosina, who loves you with as strong, though purer ardour:-but if Bel. Speak: I am on the rack, Dor. I'm afeard-she mopes and she pines allowed to hope- afeard the captain Ros. Do not, sir, envy me the calm delight of passing my independent days with Bel. Then my foreboding heart was right. Dorcas; in whom I have found a mother's [Aside. tenderness. Enter CAPTAIN Belville. Capt. B. [Confusedly] Don't be alarmed— let 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, [Exit. Enter the Two Irishmen, 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. 1 Irish. Faith, good woman, you owe me nothing at all. I'll tell your honour how it was. My comrades and I were crossing the meadow, going home, when we saw thera first; and hearing a woman cry, I look'd up, and saw them putting her into a skiff against her will. Says I, "Paddy, is not that the clever little crater that was glaning in the field with us this morning?""Tis so, sure enough," says he.-"By St. Patrick," says I, "there's enough of us to rescute 1) her." With that we ran for the bare life, waded up to the knees, laid about us bravely with our shillelays 2), knock'd them out of the skiff, and brought her back safe: and here she comes, my jewel. Re-enter RUSTIC, leading ROSINA, who throws 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 me company-so he gain'd my good will to have him; if so be my grandmother consents. [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 ber a good husband. Will. That I will, dame." Will. Pha. [To Belville] Thank your bonour. Belville joins their Hands, they bow and courtesey. 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 as you please. 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 soiRust. Your honour need not go far a field, dier, and be more than my brother-be my I believe; it must have been some friend of friend. the captain's, for his French valet commanded the party. Capt. B. I confess my crime; my passion for Rosina hurried me out of myself. Bel. FINALE. To bless, and to be blest, be ours, powers; Bel. You have dishonour'd me, dishonour'd the glorious profession you have embrac'dBut be gone, I renounce you as my brother, Capt. B. On some her gifts kind fortune and renounce my ill-plac'd friendship. 1) Rescue. 9) Oak-sticks.-The Irish are famous for the use of the stick; it is generally a piece of oak, and the regular size is as big round as their wrist, and the exact length their arm. showers, Who reap, like us, in this rich scene. Capt. B. Yet those who taste her bounty less |