« 이전계속 »
this; while I own a passion for you, founded on the justest, the noblest basis, I must at the same time confess the fear of that world, its taunts, its reproaches—
Patty. Ah! sir, think better of the creature you have raised, than to suppose I ever entertained a hope tending to your dishonour:-I am unfortunate, my lord, but not criminal.
Cease, oh cease to overwhelm me,
Enter SIR HARRY SycAMoRE, THEoDos IA, and GILEs.
Sir Harry. Nojustice of peace, no bailiffs, no headborough !
Lord A. What's the matter, Sir Harry?
Sir Harry. The matter, my lord—While I was examining the construction of the mill without, (for I have some small notion'of mechanics,) Miss Sycamore had like to have been run away with by a gipsy man.
Theod. Dear papa, how can you talk so : Did not I
tell you it was at my own desire the poor fellow went
to show me the canal?
Sir Harry. Hold your tongue, miss. I don't know any business you had to let him come near you at all: we have stayed so long too; your mamma gave us but half an hour, and she'll be frightened out of her wits—she'll think some accident has happened to Ine. Lord A. I'll wait upon you when you please. Sir Harry. Oh! but, my lord, here's a poor fellow; it seems his mistress has conceived some disgust against him; pray has her father spoke to you to interpose your authority in his behalf? Giles. If his lordship's honour would be so kind, I would acknowledge the favour as far as in me lay. Sir Harry. Let me speak—[Takes LoRD AIMworth aside]—a word or two in your lordship's ear. Theod. Well, I do like this gipsy scheme prodigiously, if we can but put it into execution as happily as we have contrived it.
So, my dear Patty, you see I am come to return your visit very soon ; but this is only a call en passant— will you be at home after dinner? Patty. Certainly, madam, whenever you condescend to honour me so far: but it is what I cannot expect. Theod. Oh fie, why not—— Giles. Your servant, Miss Patty. Patty. Farmer, your servant. Sir Harry. Here, you goodman delver, I have done your business; my lord has spoke, and your fortune's made: a thousand pounds at present, and better things to come; his lordship says he will be your friend. Giles. I do hope then Miss Pat will make all up. Sir Harry. Miss Pat make up ! stand out of the way; I'll make it up.
The quarrels of lovers, odds me! they're a jest;
Farewell, then /
Sir Harry. Why, miss, will you mind when you're spoke
to, or not?
She court'sies 1–Look there,
ACT THE THIRD.
Enter LoRD AIMworth, SIR HARRY and LADY SycAMoRe.
Lady S. A wretch! a vile, inconsiderate wretch! coming of such a race as mine, and having an example like me before her
Lord A. I beg, madam, you will not disquiet yourself: you are told here, that a gentleman lately arrived from London has been about the place to-day; that he has disguised himself like a gipsy, came hither, and had some conversation with your daughter: you are even told, that there is a design formed for their going off together; but possibly there may be some mistake in all this.
Sir Harry. Ay, but, my lord, the lad tells us the gentleman's name: we have seen the gipsies; and we know she has had a hankering
Lady S. Sir Harry, my dear, why will you put in your word, when you hear others speaking 2—I protest, my lord, I'm in such confusion, I know not what to say: I can hardly support myself
Lord A. This gentleman, it seems, is at a little inn at the bottom of the hill.
Sir Harry. I wish it was possible to have a file of musqueteers, my lord; I could head them myself, being in the militia; and we could go and seize him directly.
Lord A. Softly, my dear sir; let us proceed with a little less violence in this matter, I beseech you. We should first see the young lady—Where is Miss Sycamore, madam? Lady S. Really, my lord, I don't know ; I saw her go into the garden about a quarter of an hour ago, from our chamber window. Sir Harry. Into the gardens perhaps she has got an inkling of our being informed of this affair, and is gone to throw herself into the pond. Despair, my lord, makes girls do terrible things. 'Twas but the Wednesday before we left London, that I saw, taken out of Rosamond's Pond, in St. James’s Park, as likely a young woman as ever you would desire to set your eyes on, in a new callimancoe petticoat, and a pair of silver buckles in her shoes. Lord A. I hope there is no danger of any such fatal accident happening at present; but you will oblige me, Sir Harry? Sir Harry. Surely, my lord— Lord A. Will you commit the whole direction of this affair to my prudence? Sir Harry. My dear, you hear what his lordship says Žia, S. Indeed, my lord, I am so much ashamed, I don’t know what to answer; the fault of my daughter Lord A. Don't mention it, madam; the fault has been mine, who have been innocently the occasion of a young lady's transgressing a point of duty and decorum, which, otherwise, she would never have violated. But if you and Sir Harry will walk in and repose yourselves, I hope to settle every thing to the general satisfaction. Lady S. Come in, Sir Harry. [Erit. Lord A. I am sure, my good friend, had I known that I was doing a violence to Miss Sycamore’s inclinations, in the happiness I propose to myself—