« 이전계속 »
Lord A. Nobody doubts, sir Harry, that have not something to spare for poor Fanny you are very clear-sighted.
Sir H. Yes, yes, let me alone, I know what's Ralph. I tell you, Fan, the gentleman has what; I was a young fellow once myself; no change about him; why the plague will and I should have been glad of a tenant to you be so troublesome? take a pretty girl off my hands now and then, as well as another.
Lord A. I protest, my dear friend, I don't understand you.
Fan. Lord, what is it to you, if his honour has a mind to give me a trifle? Do pray, gentleman, put your hand in your pocket.
Lady S. Nor nobody else-Sir Harry, you Mer. I am almost distracted! Ungrateful are going at some beastliness now. Theodosia, to change so suddenly, and write Sir H. Who I, my lady? Not I, as I hope me such a letter! However, I am resolved to live and breathe; 'tis nothing to us you to have my dismission face to face; this letknow, what my lord does before he's married: ter may be forced from her by her mother, when I was a bachelor, I was a devil among who I know was never cordially my friend: the wenches myself; and yet I vow to George, I could not get a sight of her in London, but my lord, since I knew my lady Sycamore, here they will be less on their guard; and and we shall be man and wife eighteen years, see her I will, by one means or other, if we live till next Candlemas-day, I never Fan. Then your honour will not extend your charity?
had to do
Lady S. Sir Harry, come out of the room, I desire.
Sir H. Why, what's the matter, my lady, I did not say any harm?
Lady S. I see what you are driving at, you want to make me faint.
Sir H. I want to make you faint, my lady? Lady S. Yes, you do and if you don't come out this instant I shall fall down in the chamber-I beg, my lord, you won't speak to him. Will you come out, sir Harry?" Sir H. Nay but, my lady!
I am young, and Lam friendless,
[Mervin gives her Money.
May you, possessing every blessing,
Lady S. No. I will have you out. [Exeunt Sir Harry and Lady Sycamore. Lord A. This worthy baronet and his lady are certainly a very whimsical couple; how- Ralph. Now I'll go and take that money ever, their daughter is perfectly amiable in from her; and I have a good mind to lick every respect and yet I am sorry I have her, so I have.
brought her down here; for can I in honour Mer. Pho, pr'ythee stay where you are, marry her, while my affections are engaged Ralph. Nay, but I hate to see a toad so to another? To what does the pride of con-devilish greedy.
Ralph. Ay, but you may put that out of your head, for I can tell you she won't. Mer. How so?
dition and the censure of the world force me! Mer. Well, come, she has not got a great Must I then renounce the only person that deal, and I have thought how she may do me can make me happy; because, because what? a favour in her turn. because she's a miller's daughter? Vain pride and unjust censure! Has she not all the graces that education can give her sex, improved by a genius seldom found among the highest? Has she not modesty, sweetness of temper, the devil. and beauty of person, capable of adorning a Mer. Oh, she is-I fancy I understand you. rank the most exalted? But it is too late to Well, in that case, friend Ralph--Your nathink of these things now; my hand is pro-me's Ralph, I think?
Ralph. How so, why she's as cunning as
mised, my honour engaged: and if it was not Ralph. Yes, sir, at your service, for want so, she has engaged herself; the farmer is a of a better. person to her mind, and I have authorized their union by my approbation.
Enter RALPH, with MERVIN in a riding Dress,
followed by FANNY.
Mer. I say then, friend Ralph, in that case, we will remit the favour you think of, till the lady is in a more complying humour, and try if she cannot serve me at present in some other capacity-There are a good many gipsies hereabout, are there not?
Ralph. Softly-I have a whole gang them here in our barn; I have kept them about the place these three months, and all
on account of she.
-but for your life don't say a word of it to any Christian-I am in love with her.
Ralph. Feyther is as mad with me about it as old Scratch; and I gets the plague and Fan. Ah, pray, your honour, try if you all of anger; but I don't mind that.
Ralph. Why, do you want to go a mum- Ralph. ming?) We never do that here but in the Christmas holidays.
Mer. No matter; manage this for me, and manage it with secrecy, and I promise you Pat. shall not go unrewarded. Giles.
Ralph. Oh, as for that, sir, I don't look for any thing: I can easily get you a bundle of their rags; but I don't know whether you'll Fan. prevail on them to go up to my lord's, because they are afraid of a big dog that's in Ralph. the yard; but I'll tell you what I can do; Fan. can go up before you and have the dog fast- Giles. ened, for I know his kennel. [Exit. Pat. Mer. That will do very well-By means of All. this disguise I shall probably get a sight of her; and I leave the rest to love and fortune.
Why quits the merchant, blest with ease,
'Midst freezing cold, or scorching heat?
SCENE IV.- The Mill.
To be in their place,
We'd carry it off with a different face.
Why now that's right;
My heart it surprises,
I can't keep it down, though I'd never
What torments exceeding, what joys
The pains and the pleasures that wait
SCENE I-A marble Portico, ornamented
Enter LORD AIMWORTH, reading.
the situation I am now in show me to most Lord A. In how contemptible a light would of the fine men of the present age? In love with a country girl; rivalled by a poor fellow, Enter PATTY, Ralph, Giles, and FANNY. one of my meanest tenants, and uneasy at it! Giles. So his lordship was as willing as If I had a mind to her, I know they would the flowers in May-and as I was coming tell me I ought to have taken care to make along, who should I meet but your father myself easy long ago, when I had her in my and he bid me run in all haste and tell you power. But I have the testimony of my own for we were sure you would be deadly glad.
Pat. I know not what business you had to go to my lord's at all, farmer.
Giles. Nay, I only did as I was desiredMaster Fairfield bid me tell you moreover, as how he would have you go up to my lord, out of hand, and thank him.
Ralph. So she ought; and take off those clothes, and put on what's more becoming her station: you know my father spoke to you of that this morning too.
Pat. Brother, I shall obey my father. QUARTETTO.-PATTY, GILES, RALPH, and
Lie still, my heart; oh! fatal stroke, That kills at once my hopes and me. Giles. Miss Pat!
heart in my favour; and I think, was it to do again, I should act as I have done. Let's see what we have here. Perhaps a book may compose my thoughts. [Reads, and throws the Book away] It's to no purpose; I can't read, I can't think, I can't do any thing.
Ah! how vainly mortals treasure
Ways to ruin,
Pat. Now comes the trial: no, my sentence is already pronounced, and I will meet my fate with prudence and resolution.
Lord A. Who's there?
Pat. My lord!
Lord A. Patty Fairfield!
Pat. I humbly beg pardon, my lord, for 1) The mummers are generally a number of young men who go about in the country towns, dressed up with pressing so abruptly into your presence: but fine gold and silver paper sewed to their cloaths. I was told I might walk this way; and I am at Christmas time, to get something for repeating an old come by my father's commands to thank your mystery in rhyme, something about St. George and lordship for all your favours.
the Dragon,-I remember a couple of lines thus:
Lord A. Favours, Patty; what favours? I have done you none: but why this metamor
phosis? I protest, if you had not spoke, I Pat. Upon my knees, upon my knees I pray should not have known you; I never saw you it; may every earthly bliss attend you! may wear such clothes as these in my mother's your days prove an uninterrupted course of delightful tranquillity; and your mutual friendPat. No, my lord, it was her ladyships ship, confidence, and love, end but with your pleasure I should wear better, and therefore I lives
obeyed; but it is now my duty to dress in a Lord A. Rise, Patty, rise; say no moremanner more suitable to my station and future I suppose you'll wait upon miss Sycamore prospects in life. before you go away-at present I have a little Lord A. I am afraid, Patty, you are too business-As I said, Patty, don't afflict yourhumble-come sit down - nay, I will have it self: I have been somewhat hasty with regard so. [They sit] What is it I have been told to the farmer; but since I see how deeply you to-day, Patty? It seems you are going to be are interested in his affairs, I may possibly alter my designs with regard to him - You Pat. Yes, my lord. know-you know, Patty, your marriage with Lord A. Well, and don't you think you him is no concern of mine-I only speakcould have made a better choice than farmer Giles? I should imagine your person, your accomplishments, might have entitled you to look higher.
Pat. Your lordship is pleased to over-rate my little merit: the education I received in your family does not entitle me to forget my origin; and the farmer is my equal.
Lord A. In what respect? The degrees of rank and fortune, my dear Patty, are arbitrary distinctions, unworthy the regard of those who consider justly; the true standard of equality is seated in the mind: those who think nobly are noble.
My passion in vain I attempt to dissemble:
By how many cruel ideas tormented!
My blood's in a ferment; it freezes, it burns! This moment I wish, what the next is repented; While love, rage, and jealousy rack me by
Pat. The farmer, my lord, is a very honest man. Giles. Miss Pat - Odd rabbit it, I thought Lord A. So he may: I don't suppose he his honour was here; and I wish I may die would break into a house, or commit a rob- if my heart did not jump into my mouthbery on the highway: what do you tell me of Come, come down in all haste; there's such a his honesty for? rig below as you never knew in your born Pat. I did not mean to offend your lordship. days. There's as good as forty of the tenants, Lord A. Offend! I am not offended, Patty; men and maidens, have got upon the lawn not at all offended-But is there any great before the castle, with pipers and garlands; merit in a man's being honest? just for all the world as tho'f it was MayPat. I don't say there is, my lord. day; and the quality's looking at them out of Lord A. The farmer is an ill-bred, illiterate the windows-'tis as true as any thing; on booby; and what happiness can you propose account of my lord's coming home with his to yourself in such a society? Then, as to his new lady. person, I am sure But perhaps, Patty, you like him; and if so, I am doing a wrong thing. Giles. Why I was thinking, if so be as Pat. Upon my word, my lordyou would come down, as we might take a Lord A. Nay, I see you do: he has had the dance together: little Sall, farmer Harrow's good fortune to please you; and in that case daughter, of the green, would fain bave had you are certainly in the right to follow your me for a partner; but I said as how I'd go inclinations. I must tell you one thing, Patty, for one I liked better, one that I'd make a however I hope you won't think it unfriendly partner for life. of me-but I am determined farmer Giles shall not stay a moment on my estate after next quarter-day.
Pat. Well, and what then?
Pat. Did you say so?
Giles. Yes; and she was struck all of a heap-she had not a word to throw to a dogPat. I hope, my lord, he has not incurred for Sall and I kept company once for a your displeasurelittle bit.
Lord A. That's of no signification. Could Pat. Farmer, I am going to say something I find as many good qualities in him as you to you, and I desire you will listen to it al do, perhaps But 'tis enough, he's a fellow I tentively. It seems you think of our being don't like; and as you have a regard for him, married together. I would have you advise him to provide himself.
Pat. My lord, I am very unfortunate. Lord A. She loves him, 'tis plain. [Aside] Come, Patty, I would not willingly do any thing to make you uneasy. Have you seen miss Sycamore yet?-I suppose you know she and I are going to be married?"
Pat. So I hear, my lord.-Heaven make you both happy.
Lord A. Thank you, Patty; I hope we shall be happy.
Giles. Think! why I think of nothing else; it's all over the place, mun, as how you are to be my spouse; and you would not believe what game folks make of me.
Pat. Shall I talk to you like a friend, farmer? You and I were never designed for one another; and I am morally certain we should not be happy.
Giles. Oh! as for that matter, I never has no words with nobody.
Pat. Shall I speak plainer to you don't like you.
Theo. Oh, infinite! infinite! To see the Pat. On the contrary, you are disagreeable cheerful, healthy-looking creatures, toil with such a good will! To me there were more genuine charms in their awkward stumping
Giles. Am I? Pat. Yes, of all things: I deal with you and jumping about, their rude measures, and sincerely. homespun finery, than in all the dress, splenGiles. Why, I thought, miss Pat, the affair dour, and studied graces of a birth-night ballbetween you and I was all fix'd and settled. room.
Pat. Well, let this undeceive you-Be as- Pat. 'Tis a very uncommon declaration to sured we shall never be man and wife. No be made by a fine lady, madam; but certainly, offer shall persuade, no command force me.- however the artful delicacies of high life may You know my mind, make your advantage dazzle and surprise, nature has particular atof it. [Exit. tractions, even in a cottage, her most unadorned Giles. Here's a turn! I don't know what to state, which seldom fails to affect us, though make of it: she's gone mad, that's for sartin; we can scarce give a reason for it. wit and learning have crack'd her brain. But Theo. But you know, Patty, I was always hold, she says I baint to her mind-mayn't a distracted admirer of the country; no damall this be the effect of modish coyness, to do sel in romance was ever fonder of groves like the gentlewomen, because she was bred and purling streams: had I been born in the among them? And I have heard say, they will days of Arcadia, with my present propensity, be upon their vixen tricks till they go into the instead of being a fine lady, as you call me, very church with a man.-There can no harm I should certainly have kept a flock of sheep. come of speaking with master Fairfield, how- Pat. Well, madam, you have the sages, ever.-Odd rabbit it, how plaguy tart she was— poets, and philosophers of all ages, to counI am half vex'd with myself now that I let tenance your way of thinking. her go off so.
Theo. And you, my little, philosophical friend, don't you think me in the right too? Pat. Yes indeed, madam, perfectly.
Enter MERVIN and FANNY.
SCENE II.A View of LORD AIMWORTH's wish, most fortunately alone. Accost her as
Fan. Heaven bless you, my sweet ladybless your honour's beautiful visage, and send you a good husband, and a great many of them. Theo. A very comfortable wish, upon my word: who are you, child?
House and Improvements; a Seat under a Tree, and part of the Gardenwall, with a Chinese Pavilion over it. Several country People appear dancing, others looking on; among whom are, MERVIN, disguised, RALPH, FANNY, and a Number of Gipsies. Fan. A poor gipsy, an please you, that goes After the Dancers go off, THEODOSIA and about begging from charitable gentlemen and PATTY enter through a Gate supposed ladies-If you have e'er a coal or bit of whito have a Connexion with the principal ting in your pocket, I'll write you the first Building. letter of your sweetheart's name, how many Theo. Well then, my dear Patty, you will husbands you will have, and how many children, run away from us: but why in such a hurry? my lady: or, if you'll let me look at your I have a thousand things to say to you. line of life, I'll tell you whether it will be long Pat. I shall do myself the honour to pay or short, happy or miserable. my duty to you some other time, madam; at Theo. Oh! as for that, I know it alreadypresent I really find myself a little indisposed. you cannot tell me any good fortune, and Theo. Nay, I would by no means lay you therefore I'll hear none. Go about your business. under any restraint. But methinks the enter- Mer. Stay, madam, stay; [Pretending to tainment we have just been taking part of, lift a Paper from the Ground] you have should have put you into better spirits: I am dropp'd something-Fan, call the young gennot in an over merry mood myself, yet I could tlewoman back. not look on the diversion of those honest folks, without feeling a certain gaieté de coeur.
Fan. Lady, you have lost
Theo. Pho, pho, I have lost nothing. Mer. Yes, that paper, lady; you dropp'd it as you got up from the chair. Fan, give it her honour.
Pat. Why, indeed, madam, it had one circumstance attending it, which is often wanting to more polite amusements; that of seeming to to give undissembled satisfaction to those who were engaged in it.
Theo. A letter with my address!
Dear Theodosia! - Though the sight of and I are going to take a walk--My lady, will me was so disagreeable to you, that you you have hold of my arm? charged me never to approach you more, Lady S. No, sir Harry, I choose to go by I hope my hand-writing can have nothing myself.
to frighten or disgust you. I am not far Mer. Now love assist me!-[Turning to off; and the person who delivers you this the Gipsies] Follow, and take all your cues can give you intelligence. from me-Nay but, good lady and gentleman,
Come hither, child: do you know any thing you won't go without remembering the poor of the gentleman that wrote this?
Fan. My lady
Theo. Make haste, run this moment, bring me to him, bring him to me; say I wait with impatience; tell him I will go, fly any whereMer. My life, my charmer! Theo. Óh, heavens!-Mr. Mervin!
Enter SIR HARRY and LADY SYCAMORE.
Lady S. Sir Harry, don't walk so fast; we
are not running for a wager. Sir H. Hough, hough, hough.
Sir H. Hey! here is all the gang after us,
Gip. Out of the bowels of your commiseration.
Lady S. They press upon us more and more: yet that girl has no mind to leave them: I shall swoon away.
SiH. Don't be frighten'd, my lady; let me advance.
Lady S. Hey-day, you have got a cough; You vile pack of vagabonds, what do ye mean?
I shall have you laid upon my hands presently.
Lady S. Come here, and let me tie this handkerchief about your neck; you have put yourself into a mucksweat already. [Ties a Handkerchief about his Neck] Have you taken your Bardana this morning? I warrant you no now, though you have been complaining of twitches two or three times, and you know the gouty season is coming on. Why will you be so neglectful of your health, sir Harry? I protest I am forced to watch you like an infant. [During this Speech, Meroin gives Theodosia a Letter.
Sir H. My lovey takes care of me, and I am obliged to her.
I'll maul you, rascallions,
If one of them comes within reach of my cane.
A bubble that always deceives. [Exeunt
Re-enter FANNY and Gipsies. Fan. Oh! mercy, dear-The gentleman is so bold, 'tis well if he does not bring us into trouble. Who knows but this may be a justice of peace?—And see, he's following them into the garden!
Lady S. Well, but you ought to mind me then, since you are satisfied I never speak but for your good. I thought, miss Sycamore, 1 Gip. Well, 'tis all your seeking, Fan. you were to have followed your papa and Fan. We shall have warrants to take us me into the garden-How far did you go with up, I'll be hang'd else. We had better run that wench? away; the servants will come out with sticks to lick 1) us.
Theo. They are gipsies, madam, they say. Indeed I don't know what they are.
Lady S. I wish, miss, you would learn to give a rational answer.
Re-enter MERVIN, with Gipsies. Mer. Cursed ill fortune-She's gone; and Sir H. Eh! what's that? gipsies! Have we perhaps I shall not have another opportunitygipsies here? Vagrants, that pretend to a know-And you, ye blundering blockhead, I won't ledge of future events; diviners; fortune-tellers! give you a halfpenny-Why did not you clap Fan. Yes, your worship; we'll tell your to the garden door when I called to you, befortune, or her ladyship's, for a crum of bread fore the young lady got in? The key was on or a little broken victuals: what you throw to the outside, which would have given me some your dogs, an please you. time for an explanation.
Sir H. Broken victuals, hussy! How do you 2 Gip. An please your honour, I was dubus 2). think we should have broken victuals?-If we Mer. Dubus! plague choke ye- However, were at home, indeed, perhaps you might get it is some satisfaction that I have been able some such thing from the cook: but here we to let her see me, and know where I am. are only on a visit to a friend's house, and [Turning to the Gipsies]-Go, get you gone, have nothing to do with the kitchen at all. all of you, about your business. Lady S. And do you think, sir Harry, it is necessary to give the creature an account?
Sir H. No, love, no; but what can you say to obstinate people?-Get you gone, bold faceI once knew a merchant's wife in the city, my lady, who had her fortune told by some of those gipsies. They said she should die at such a time; and I warrant, as sure as the day came, the poor gentlewoman actually died with the conceit.-Come, Dossy, your mamma
[Exeunt Gipsies. Theo. [Appears in the Pavilion] Disap peared, fled! Oh, how unlucky this is! Could he not have patience to wait a moment?
Mer. I know not what to resolve on.
Mer. I'll go back to the garden-door.
Mer. What do I see?-Tis she, 'tis she