페이지 이미지
PDF

else, he would have paid for her fixing, let the cost be what it would. Giles. Why, for that matter, folks did not spare to say, that my lord had a sort of a sneaking kindness for her himself; and I remember at one time it was rife all about the neighbourhood, that she was actually to be our lady. Fair. Pho, pho! a pack of woman's tales 1 Giles. Nay, to be sure, they'll say any thing. Fair. My lord's a man of a better way of thinking, friend Giles—But this is neither here nor there to our business. Have you been at the castle yet? Giles. Who, I ? Bless your heart, I did not hear a syllable of his lordship's being come down, till your lad told me. Fair. No 1 why then, go up to my lord, let him know you have a mind to make a match with my daughter—hear what he has to say to it; and, afterwards, we will try if we can't settle matters. Giles. Go up to my lord | Icod, if that be all, I'll do it with the biggest pleasure in life.—But where's Miss Pat? Might one not ax her how she do? Fair. Never spare it; she's within there. Giles. I sees her—odd rabbit it, this hatch is locked now Miss Pat! Miss Patty!—She makes believe not to hear me. Fair. Well, well, never mind; thou'lt come and eat a morsel of dinner with us? Giles. Nay, but just to have a bit of a joke with her at present—Miss Pat, I say! won’t you open the door 2

[ocr errors]

Hark! 'tis I, your own true lover.
After walking three long miles,
One kind look, at least, discover,
Come, and speak a word to Giles.
B

You, alone, my heart I fix on:
Ah, you little cunning viren /
I can see your roguish smiles.
Addslids! my mind is so possess'd,
Till we’re sped, I sha'n't have rest;
Only say, the thing 's a bargain,
Here, an you like it,
Ready to strike it,
There's at once an end of arguing:
I'm here, she's mine;
Thus we seal, and thus we sign. [Exit.

Enter PATTY.

Fair. Patty, child, why wouldst thou not open the door, for our neighbour Giles Patty. Really, father, I did not know what was the matter. Fair. Well, another time; he’ll be here again presently. He's gone up to the castle, Patty;—thou know'st it would not be right for us to do any thing without giving his lordship intelligence, so I have sent the farmer, to let him know that he is willing, and we are willing; and, with his lordship’s approbation Patty. Oh, dear father —what are you going to Say 2 or. Nay, child, I would not have stirred a step for fifty pounds, without advertising his lordship before hand. Patty. But surely, surely, you have not done this rash, this precipitate thing. Fair. How, rash : how is it rash, Patty?—I don't understand thee. Patty. Oh, you have distressed me beyond imagination!—but why would you not give me notice— speak to me first Fair. Quiet thyself, Patty, and thou'lt see all this will turn out for the best. [Exit. Patty. What will become of me?—my lord will certainly imagine this is done with my consent Well, is he not himself going to be married to a lady, suitable to him in rank, suitable to him in fortune, as this farmer is to me; and under what pretence can I refuse the husband my father has found for me? Shall I say that I have dared to raise my inclinations above my condition, and presumed to love, where my duty taught me only gratitude and respect? Alas! who could live in the house with Lord Aimworth, see him, converse with him, and not love him! I have this consolation, however, my folly is yet undiscovered to any ; else, how should I be ridiculed and despised? nay, would not my lord himself despise me; especially, if he knew that I have more than once construed his natural affability and politeness into sentiments as unworthy of him, as mine are bold and extravagant. Unexampled vanity! [Exit.

SCEN E II.

A Room in Lord AIM worTH's House.

SIR HARRY SycAMoRe and Theodosi A.

Sir Harry. Well, but, Theodosia, child, you are quite unreasonable.

Theod. Pardon me, papa, it is not I am unreasonable: when I gave way to my inclinations for Mr. Mervin, he did not seem less agreeable to you and to my mamma, than he was acceptable to me. It is therefore you have been unreasonable, in first encouraging his addresses, and afterwards forbidding him your house; in order to bring me down here, to force me on a gentleman Sir Harry. Force you, Dossy! what do you mean? By the la, I would not force you on the Czar of Muscovy! Theod. And yet, papa, what else can I call it 2 for though Lord Aimworth is extremely attentive and obliging, I assure you he is by no means one of the most ardent of lovers. Sir Harry. Ardent, ah! there it is: you girls never think there is any love without kissing and hugging; but you should consider, child, my Lord Aimworth is a polite man, and has been abroad in France and Italy, where these things are not the fashion. I remember when I was on my travels, among the madames and signoras, we never saluted more than the tip of the ear. Theod. Really, papa, you have a very strange opinion of my delicacy: I had no such stuff in my thoughts. Sir Harry. Well, come, my poor Dossy, I see you are chagrined; but you know it is not my fault: on the contrary, I assure you, I had always a great regard for young Mervin, and should have been very lad 8 Theod. How then, papa, could you join in forcing me to write him that strange letter, never to see me more; or how indeed could I comply with your commands? What must he think of me? Sir Harry. Ay, but hold, Dossy; your mamma convinced me that he was not so proper a son-in-law for us as Lord Aimworth. Theod. Convinced you! ah, my dear papa, you were not convinced. Sir Harry. What, don't I know when I am convinced 2 Theod. Why no, papa; because your good nature and easiness of temper is such, that you pay more

respect to the judgment of mamma, and less to your own, that you ought to do. Sir Harry. Well, but, Dossy, don't you see how your mamma loves me? if my finger does but ache, she's like a bewitched woman; and if I was to die, I don't believe she would outlive the burying of me: nay, she has told me as much herself! Theod. Her fondness indeed is very extraordinary. Sir Harry. Besides, could you give up the prospect of being a countess, and mistress of this fine place? Theod, Yes, truly could I.

AIR.

With the man that I love, was I destined to dwell
On a mountain, a moor, in a cot, in a cell,
Retreats, the most barren, most desert, would be
More pleasing than courts or a palace to me.

Let the vain and the venal, in wedlock aspire,
To what folly esteems, and the vulgar admire;
I yield them the bliss, where their wishes are placed,
Insensible creatures / 'tis all they can taste.

Enter LADY SYcAMoRE.

Lady S. Sir Harry, where are you ? Sir Harry. Here, my lamb. Lady S. I am just come from looking over his lordship's family trinkets.-Well, Miss Sycamore, you are a happy creature, to have diamonds, equipage, title, all the blessings of life poured thus upon ou at once Theod. Blessings, madam : Do you think then I am such a wretch as to place my felicity in the possession of any such trumpery? Lady S. Upon my word, miss, you have a very disdainful manner of expressing yourself. I believe there are very few young women of fashion, who would

« 이전계속 »