But this new stroke of thunder Is more than I can bear. [Exit. House. Theo. Her fondness indeed is very exìraordinary. Sir H. Besides, could you give up the prospect of being a counless, and mistress of this fine place? Theo. Yes, truly, could I. AIR. With the man that I love, was I destin'd to dwell, SCENE II.—A Chamber in LORD AIMWORTH'S Retreats the most harren, most desert, would be On a mountain, a moor, in a cot, in a cell; 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 plac'd, Enter SIR HARRY SYCAMORE and THEODOSIA. Sir H. Well but, Theodosia, child, you are quite unreasonable. the czar of Muscovy. Insensible creatures! 'tis all they can taste. Lady S. Sir Harry, where are you? Theo. Pardon me, papa, it is not I am unreasonable, but you; when I gave way to my inclinations for Mr. Mervin, he did not seem less agreeable to you and my mamma than he was acceptable to me. It is therefore you have been unreasonable, in first encouraging Mr. Mervin's addresses, and afterwards for- Lady S. I am just come from looking over bidding him your house; in order to bring his lordship's family trinkets.-Well, miss Syme down here, to force me on a gentleman-camore, you are a happy creature, to have Sir H. Force you, Dossy 1), what do you diamonds, equipage, title, and all the blessings mean? By the la, I would not force you on of life poured thus upon you at once. Theo. Blessings, madam! Do you think Theo. And yet, papa, what else can I call then I am such a wretch as to place my feit? for though lord Aimworth is extremely at-licity in the possession of any such trumpery? tentive and obliging, I assure you he is by Lady S. Upon my word, miss, you have no means one of the most ardent of lovers, a very disdainful manner of expressing yourSir H. Ardent, ah! there it is; you girls self; I believe there are very few young wonever think there is any love, without kissing men of fashion, who would think any sacri and hugging; but you should consider, child, fice they could make too much for them.— my lord Aimworth is a polite man, and has Did you ever hear the like of her, sir Harry? been abroad in France and Italy, where these Sir H. Why, my dear, I have just been things are not the fashion: I remember when talking to her in the same strain, but whatI was on my travels, among the madames ever she has got in her headand signoras, we never saluted more than the tip of the ear. Theo. Really, papa, you have a very strange opinion of my delicacy. Sir H. Well come, my poor Dossy, I see you are chagrin'd, 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 glad Lady S. Oh, it is Mr. Mervin, her gentleman of Bucklersbury.-Fie, miss, marry a cit! Were is your pride, your vanity; have you nothing of the person of distinction about you? Sir H. Well but, my lady, you know I am a piece of a cit myself, as I may say, for my great-grandfather was a dry-salter. Theo. And yet, madam, you condescended to marry my papa. Lady S. Well, if I did, miss, I had but five thousand pounds to my portion, and sir Harry knows I was past eight-and-thirty before 1 Theo. 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 would listen to him. he think of me? Sir H. Ay, but hold, Dossy, your mamma convinced me that he was not so proper a son-in-law for us as lord Aimworth." Theo. Convinced you! Ah, my dear papa, you were not convinced. Sir H. What, don't I know when I am convinced? Theo. 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, than you ought to do. Sir H. Nay, Dossy, that's true, your mamma own'd eight-and-thirty before we were married: but by the la, my dear, you were a lovely angel; and by candle-light nobody would have taken you for above five-andtwenty. Lady S. Sir Harry, you remember the last time I was at my lord duke's. Sir H. Yes, my love, it was the very day your little bitch Minxey pupt. Lady S. And pray what did the whole family say? my lord John, and my lord Thomas, and my lady duchess in particular? Cousin, says her grace to me—for she always called me cousin Sir H. Well, but Dossy, don't you see how your mamma loves me? If the tip of my little finger does but ache, she's like a bewitched Theo, Well but, madam, to cut this matter woman; and if I was to die, I don't believe short at once, my father has a great regard she would outlive the burying of me: Lay, for Mr. Mervin, and would consent to our she has told me as much herself. 1) Dossy is an abbreviation of Theodosia. union with all his heart. Lady S. Do you say so, sir Harry? Sir H. Who I, love! Lord A. Upon my word, farmer, you have Lady S. Then all my care and prudence made an excellent choice-It is a god-daughter of my mother's, madam, who was bred up are come to nothing. Sir H. Well, but stay, my lady-Dossy, under her care, and I protest I do not know you are always making mischief. Theo. Ah! my dear sweet Lady S. Do, miss, that's right, coaxTheo. No, madam, I am not capable of any such meanness. Lady S. Tis very civil of you to contradict me however. Sir H. Eh! what's that-hand's off, Dossy, don't come near me. AIR. Why how now, miss pert, But I won't put myself in a passion. Enter LORD AIMWORTH and GILES. Lord A. Come, farmer, you may come in, there are none here but friends. — Sir Harry, your servant, Sir H. My lord, I kiss your lordship's hands -I hope he did not overhear us squabbling. a more amiable young woman.-But are you sure, farmer, that Patty herself is inclinable to this match? Giles. O yes, my lord, I am sartain of that. Lord A. Perhaps then she desired you to come and ask my consent? Giles. Why as far as this here, my lord; to be sure, the miller did not care to publish the bans, without making your lordship acquainted But I hope your honour's not angry with I. Lord A. Angry, farmer! why should you think so?-what interest have I in it to be angry? Sir H. And so, honest farmer, you are going to be married to little Patty Fairfield? She's an old acquaintance of mine: how long have you and she been sweethearts? Giles. Not a long while, an please your worship. Sir H. Well, her father's a good warm fellow; I suppose you take care that she brings something to make the pot boil? Lady S. What does that concern you, sir Harry? How often must I tell you of meddling in other people's affairs? Sir H. My lord, a penny for your thoughts1). Lord A. I beg your pardon, sir Harry; upon my word, I did not think where I was, Giles. Well then, your honour, I'll make [Aside. bold to be taking my leave; I may say you gave consent for miss Patty and I to go on. Lord A. Well now, master Giles, what is it you bave got to say to me? If I can do you any service, this company will give you leave to speak. Giles. thank your lordship; I has not got a great deal to say; I do come to your lordship about a little business, if you'll please to give me the hearing. Lord A. Certainly, only let me know what it is. Giles. Why, an please you, my lord, being left alone, as I may say, feyther dead, and all the business upon my own hands, I do think of settling and taking a wife, and am come to ax your honour's consent. Lord A. My consent, farmer! if that be necessary, you have it with all my heart-I hope you have taken care to make a prudent choice. Giles. Why I do hope so, my lord. Lord A. Well, and who is the happy fair one? Does she live in my house? Giles. No, my lord, she does not live in your house, but she's a parson of your acquaintance. Lord A. Of my acquaintance! Giles. No offence, I hope, your honour. Lord A. None in the least: but how is she an acquaintance of mine? Giles. Your lordship do know miller Fairfield? Lord A. Undoubtedly, farmer, if she approves of it: but are you not afraid that her education has rendered her a little unsuitable for a wife for you? Lady S. Oh, my lord, if the girl's handy- Giles. Handy! Why, saving respect, there's nothing comes amiss to her; she's cute at every varsal kind of thing. AIR. Odd's my life, search England over, An you match her in her station, I'll be bound to fly the nation: And be sure as well I love her. Do but feel my heart a beating, Still her pretty name repeating; Here's the work 'tis always at, Pitty, patty, pat, pit, pat. When she makes the music tinkle, What on yearth can sweeter be? Then her little eyes so twinkle, 'Tis a feast to hear and see. Sir H. By dad, this is a good, merry fellow; is not he, love? with his pitty patty-And so, my lord, you have given your consent that he shall marry your mother's old housekeeper. Ah, well, I can see [Exit. 1) A young lady being once melancholy and thoughtful in the presence of a gentleman for whom she had a sort of a tendre, which was returned on his part also, though neither party knew the sentiments of the other, was thus accosted by the gentleman; "A penny for your thoughts." (I will give you a penny for your thoughts.) "For the other odd (remaining) eleven pence you shall have thoughts and thinker," answered the lady; the gentleman produced a shilling, and the lady consented to marry him.-This is now often used, but not necessarily implying this meaning. Lord A. Nobody doubts, sir Harry, that have not something to spare for poor Fanny you are very clear-sighted. the gipsy. 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 hooour 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! 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 Mer. Pho, pr'ythee stay where you are. Ralph. Nay, but I hate to see a toad se devilish greedy. May you, possessing every blessing, Still inherit, sir, all you merit, sir, And never know what it is to want; Sweet heaven your worship all happiness grant! [Exit 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 lid every respect and yet I am sorry I have her, so I have. brought her down here; for can I in honour marry her, while my affections are engaged to another? To what does the pride of condition and the censure of the world force me! Must I then renounce the only person that can make me happy; because, because what? 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? Mer. Well, come, she has not got a great deal, and I have thought how she may do me a favour in her turn. Ralph. Ay, but you may put that out of your head, for I can tell you she won't. Mer. How so? 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 was! 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. 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 of them here in our barn; I have kept them about the place these three months, and all on account of she. Mer. Really. Ralph. Yea, but for your life don't say a word of it to any Christian-I am in love with her. you could This is a thing the most oddest, Mer. Well, friend Ralph, if you are in Fan. love, no doubt you have some influence over your mistress; don't think you prevail upon her, and her companions, to supply me with one of their habits, and let me go up with them to-day to my lord Giles. Aimworth's? Ralph. Fan. Ralph. Why, do you want to go a mum-Ralph. ming?1) 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; IFan. 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. AIR. Why quits the merchant, blest with case, '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 so fain. So here the play ends, 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 heart in my favour; and I think, was it to do glad. Pat. I know not what business you had to what we have here. Perhaps a book may 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 Pat. FANNY. Lie still, my heart; oh! fatal stroke, That kills at once my hopes and me. Giles. Miss Pat! Nay, I only spoke. Ralph. Take courage, mon, she does but joke. Come, suster, somewhat kinder be. again, I should act as I have done. Let's see 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. AIR. Ah! how vainly mortals treasure Hard and doubtful to obtain! Ways to ruin, Enter PATTY. 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: "I am the hold St. George, the knight, 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 life-time. 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 yon 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 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 My passion in vain I attempt to dissemble: look higher. married. Pat. Yes, my lord. 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. AIR. Th' endeavour to hide it, but makes it appear: Enraptur'd I gaze; when I touch her I tremble, And speak to and hear her with falt'ring and fear. 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 turns. Enter GILES. [Exit 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 bora 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 Mayday; and the quality's looking at them out of the windows 'tis as true as any thing; c account of my lord's coming home with his new lady. Pat. Well, and what then? Pat. I don't say there is, my lord. Lord A. The farmer is an ill-bred, illiterate booby; and what happiness can you propose to yourself in such a society? Then, as to his I am sure— But perhaps, Patty, you person, like him; and if so, I am doing a wrong thing. I 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. I hope, my lord, he has not incurred your displeasure Pat. Did you say so? Giles. Yes; and she was struck all of a heap-she had not a word to throw to a dogfor Sall and I kept company once for a little 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 aldo, perhaps-But 'tis enough, he's a fellow Itentively. 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. Giles. Think! why I think of nothing else: it's all over the place, mun, as how you are Pat. My lord, I am very unfortunate. to be my spouse; and you would not believe Lord A. She loves him, 'tis plain. [Aside] what game folks make of me. 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. 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 then-I don't like you. |
