« 이전계속 »
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. I 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 kin 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.
Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE, followed by the
Bel. By this fountain's flow'ry side,
Drest in nature's blooming pride,
Taste our pleasures ye who may,
Life's fantastic forms despise.
Cho. Taste our pleasures ye who may,
Capt. B. Blushing Bell, with downcast
eyes, Sighs and knows not why she sighs; Tom is near her-we shall knowHow he eyes her-Is't not so? Cho. Taste our pleasures ye who may, This is Nature's holiday.
Will. He is fond, and she is shy;
He would kiss her!-fie!-ch, fie!
Cho. Busy censors, hence, away;
Lads and lasses, all advance,
O Carol blithe, and form the dance;
Cho. Trip it lightly while you may,
[All rise; the Dancers come down the Stage through the Sheaves of Corn, which are removed; the Dance begins, and finishes
SCENE I.-The same.
Rust. This purse is the plague of my life; I hate money when it is not my own. I'll 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.
Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE, unperceived. Go back to the reapers, whilst I carry this
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!
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.
Sweet transports, gentle wishes go!
In vain his charms have gain'd my heart;
Pray, William, do you know of any body
Will. I knows nothing about it.
Ros. Dorcas, however, has found one.
If chance some fairing caught her eye,
Ros. You will oblige me very much if you howsomever. Bye1), Phœbe: I shall always 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.
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.
Pho. I'm ready to choke wi' madness; but
[William sings, throwing up his Stick
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
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
Pho. 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. Pho. [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.
Pha. Will you indeed, and indeed?
DUETT.-PHOEBE and WILLIAM.
somer. [Sings, sobbing at every Word. Will.
Of all the gay wrestlers that spost on the green,
Will. He's yonder a reaping: shall I call [Offers to go. Both. 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
See high-born dames, in rooms of state,
Amid the shades the virgin's sighs
[Exeunt, Arm in Arm. Enter BELVILLE.
Bel. I tremble at the impression this lovely girl has made on my heart. My cheerfulness has left me, and I am grown insensible even to the delicious pleasure of making those happy who depend on my protection.
Light as thistle-down moving, which floats on
Sweet gratitude's debt to this cottage I bear:
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,
[ilos, 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, îny guide.
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, and ties the Branches together] How my heart beats! One look more — -Ah! I have
[She flies, and endeavours to hide her-
Bel. [Eagerly] They are at an end. Ros. Dorcas approaches, sir! she can best relate my melancholy story.
Dor. His honour here? Good lack! How sorry I am I happen'd to be from home. Troth, I'm sadly tir'd.
[Half raising himself. Ros. He is angry-How unhappy I am!-moment alone, Dorcas? How I tremble! [Aside. Dor. Rosina, take this basket.
Bel. Will you let me speak with you a
Bel. This riband I have seen before, and on the lovely Rosina's bosom
[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.
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 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?
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,
Bel. But her father's name?
Bel. I am too happy; he was the friend of 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.
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?
offer of my hand repair the injury?
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 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.
Rust. Help, for heaven's sake, sir! Rosina's lost-she is carried away→
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.
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. Pha. [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 for Rosina hurried me out of myself.
Bel. You have dishonour'd me, dishonour'd the glorious profession you have embrac'd
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 soldier, and be more than my brother-be my friend.
To bless, and to be blest, be ours, Whate'er our rank, whate'er our powers;
But be gone, I renounce you as my brother, Capt. B. On some her gifts kind fortune
and renounce my ill-plac'd friendship.
2) 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.
Comic Opera, by Isaak Bickerstaff. Acted 1762, 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,
SCENE I-A Garden, with Statues, Foun
tains, and Flower-pots.
Several Arbours appear in the side Scenes; ROSETTA and LUCINDA are discovered at work, seated upon two Garden-chairs.
Ros. HOPE! thou nurse of young desire,
Painted vapour, glowworm fire,
Both. Kind deceiver, flatter still,
Deal out pleasures unpossest;
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 Ros. Well, child, what do you say? 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 likes you, you like him: you know one another's minds, and yet you will not resolve to make yourself happy with him.
Whence can you inherit
Confin'd thus, and chain'd to a log!
'Tis leading the life of a dog.
Ros. Except being absurd; you must allow 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