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apt. B. You have a charming daughter
Where the poptar trembles high, or. I thought as much. A vile wicked man!
And the bees in clusters fly, (Aside.
Whilst the herdsman on the hill apt. B. Beauty like her's might find a thousand Listens to the falling rill, urces in London; the moment she appears
Pride and cruel scorn away, e, she will turn every head.
Let us share the festive day. or. And is your honour sure her own won't
Taste our pleasures ye who may, at the same time ?
This is Nature's holiday. apt. B. She shall live in affluence, and take care Bel. Simple Nature ye who prize, pu too, Dorcas.
Life's fantastic forms despise. or. I guess your honour's meaning; but you cho. Taste our pleasures ye
who may, nistaken, sir. If I must be a trouble to the
This is Nature's holiday. child, I had rather owe my bread to her la-Capt. B. Blushing Bell
, with douncast eyes, · than her shame.
Sighs, and knows not why she sighs. (Goes into the Cottage, and shuts the door.
Tom is near her we shall know ipt. B. These women astonish me; but I won't
How he eyes herls't not so ? it up so.
Cho. Taste our pieasures ye who may,
This is Nature's holiday.
Will. He is fond, and she is shy; apt. B. A word with you, Rustic.
He would kiss her!--fie!
-oh, fe ! ist. I am in a great hurry, your honour; I am
Mind thy sickle, let her be ; g to hasten dinner.
By and by she'll follow thee. apt. B. I sha’n't keep you a minute. Take
Cho. five guineas.
Busy censors, hence! away!
This is Nature's holiday. ust. For whom, sir ?
Rust. zpt. B. For yourself. And this purse.
Now we'll quaff the nut-brown ale,
Then we'll tell the sportive tale ; ust. For whom, sir? ipt. B. For Rosina ; they say she is in distress,
AU is jest, and all is glee,
AU is youthful jollity. wants assistance.
Cho. ust. What pleasure it gives me to see you so
Taste our pleasures ye who may, itable? But why give me money, sir ?
This is Nature's holiday.
Pho. pt. B, Only to-tell Rosina there is a person
Lads and lasses, all advance, is very much interested in her happiness.
Carol blithe, and form the dance ; ust. How much you will please bis honour by
Trip it lightly while you may,
This is Nature's holiday.
Trip it lightly while you may,
(Dance. apt. B. Prefers her! Ah! you sly rogue ! ust. Your honour's a wag; but I'm sure I nt ao barm. ipt. B. Give her the money, and tell her she I never want a friend: but not a word to my
SCENE I.-The same.
Enter Rustic. us. I am his honour's servant, and it's my
Rust. This purse is the plague of my life; I hate to hide nothing from him. I'll go seek bir money when it is not my own. I'll e'en put in the pur; 0, here be comes.
five guineas he gave me for myself; I don't want it, Enter BELVILLE,
and they do. They certainly must find it there. el. Well, Rustic, have you any intelligence to But I hear the cottage-door open. municate ?
(Puts the purse on the bench, and retires. ust. A vast deal, sir. Your brother begins to Enter Dorcas and Rosina, from the cottage. Dore good use of his money; he has given me these cas with a great basket on her arm, filled with guineas for myself, and this purse for Rosina. skerns of thread. el. Por Rosina! 'Tis plain he loves her. (Aside. y him exactly; but as distress renders the mind
Dor. I am just going, Rosina, to carry this thread
to the weaver's. shty, and Rosina's situation requires the utmost Ros. This basket is too heavy for you; pray, let cacy, contrive to execute your commission in , a manner, tbat she may not even suspect from
me carry it.
(Sets the basket on the bench.
Dor. No, no. uce the money comes.
Ros. If you love me, only take half ; this evening, ust. I understand your honour. eh Have you gained any intelligence in respect part of the skeins out of the basket.] There, be angry
or to-morrow morning, I will carry the rest. (Takes Losina ?
with me if you please. lust. I endeavoured to get all I could from the woman's grand-daughter ; but all she knew was, beware of men.
Dor. No, my sweet lamb, I am not angry; but she was no kin to Dorcas, and that she had a good bringing-up; but here come the reapers.
Ros. Have you any doubts of my conduct, Dorcas ?
Dor. Indeed I have not, love; and, yet, I am Captain Belville, followed by the Reapers. uneasy. FINALE
Enter Captain Belville, unperceived. By this fountain's florc'ry side,
Go back to the reapers, whilst I carry this thread. Drest in nature's blooming pride,
Ros. I'll go this moment.
Dor. But as I walk but slow, and 'tis a good way, Pha. I'm ready to choke , bet
WILLIAM sings tirozing bisa
catching it Capt
. B. [Aside, Rosina to be at home before Will Her eyes are as Heck as the seaside
Her face like the blossoms i les
Phæ. I can't bear it no longer; you
ful, parfidious—but it's no matter. Izt
[Sing, webbingen live!
Of all the gay swrestlers that sporta
Young Harry's the lad for me
Will. He's yonder a reaping: shad Isle
Pha. I did not valae ber selling salsts Dor. "Tis nothing but childishness: but his honour thing, when I thought as how yon sere trees will like your bashfulness better than too much Wil Wasn't I true to you! Look in courage.
(Erit. and say that.
The joy of each free herede
Till Phæbe promisd to be se,
I loiter'd, last of all are
If chance some fairing cangki bere
The riband gay, or sites,
With eager kaste I ran tog
For that is gold compariske
My posy on her buen pledd,
Could Harry's sweeter gests esta
Her auburn locks my Tiend and Pray, William, do you know of anybody that has And flutter is the east gute. lost a purse ?
With scorn she hea7 e aplais
. I knows nothing about it.
Nor can sy stie prosess :
Her heart prefers a richer train,
And gold, clas! kas banisa's las. (Ging carry it to Mr. Belville, and beg him to keep it till Will. [Returns.] Let's part friendly, borsomere. the owner is found.
Bye, Phæbe: I shall always wish yos
Will. My heart begins to melt a little. (Jade
grown so cross, and have such vagariei.
Pha. I'm sure I never had no vagaries via Toe Phæ. There's William ; but I'll pretend not to William. But go; mayhap Kate may be on see him.
Wil. And who cares for she? I never selbst AIR.-PUEBE.
anger, nor her coaxing neither, till you were the Henry cull'd the flow'ret's bloom,
Pha. O the father! I cross to you,
Will. Did you not tell me, this
how you had done wi' me ?
Pha. One word's as good as a thousand. Dersi Simple Marian, ah! berare;
love me, William ? Touch them not, for love is there.
Will, Do I love thee? Do I love dancing on the (Throws away her nosegay. While she is siny- green better than threshing in a barn? De I been
ing, William turns, looks at her, whistles, wake, or a harvest-home?
Phæ. Then I'll never speak to Harry again di will. That's Harry's posy; the slut likes me still. longest day I have to live.
[ Aside. Will. Píl turn my back o'the miller's said the Phæ. That's a copy of his countenance, I'm sar- first time I meet her. tin; he can no more help following me nor he can Phæ. Will you, indeed and indeed ? be hanged.
Will. Marry will l; and more por that, I'll! ( Aside.-William crosses again, singing. speak to the parson this moment: I'ra happie ору ой, inore help Pf all the fair maidens that dance on the green, Zooks! I'm happier nor a lord or a squire - maid of the mill for me.
hundred a-year. side.-WILLIAALI The fair maidenszesh rid of the mill fots
DUET.-Puebe and WILLIAM. could not mean to offend you. In gaudy courts, with aching hearts,
Ros. Your brother! Why then does he not imiThe great at fortune rail :
tate your virtues ? Why was he bere ? The hills may higher honours claim,
Bel. Forget this; you are safe. But tell me, But peace is in the vale.
Rosina, for the question is to me of importance, See high-born dames, in rooms of state,
have I not seen you wear this riband ? With midnight revels pale ;
Ros. Forgive me, sir; I did not mean to disturb No youth admires their fading charms,
you. I only meant to shade you from the too great
heat of the sun. For beauty's in the vale.
Bel. To what motive do I owe this tender attenAmid the shades the virgin's sighs
tion ? Add fragrance to the gale :
Ros. Ah, sir; do not the whole village love you ? So they that will may take the hill,
Bel. You tremble; why are you alarmed ?
DUET.-BELVILLE and Rosina, 1. I tremble at the impression this lovely girl Bel. For you, my sweet maid, nay, be not afraid, sade on my heart. My cheerfulness has left I feel an affection which yet wants a name. snd I am grown insensible even to the delicious Ros. When first-but in vain--I seek to erplain, ure of making those happy who depend on my What heart but must love you ! I blush, fear, and ction.
Bel. Why thus timid, Rosina ? still safe by my side, Ere bright Rosina met my eyes,
Let me be your guardian, protector, and guide. How peaceful pass'd the joyous day!
Ros. My timid heart pants still safe by your side, In rural sports I gain'd the prize,
Be you my protector, my guardian, my guide. Each virgin listend to my lay.
Bel. Why thus timid, &c.
Ros. My timid heart pants, &c.
Bel. Unveil your mind to me, Rosina. The graces
of your form, the native dignity of your mind which The tree, that in a happier hour,
breaks through the lovely simplicity of your deport
ment, a thousand circumstances concur to convince Its boughs extended o'er the plain, When blasted by the lightning': power,
me you were not born a villager.
Ros. To you, sir, I can have no reserve. A pride, Nor charms the eye, nor shades the swain.
I hope an bonest one, made me wish to sigh in secret 'ce the sun rose, I have been in continual exer-over my misfortunes. >; I feel exhausted, and will try to rest a quarter
Bel. They are at an end. an hour on this bank. (Lies down on a bank. Ros. Dorcas approaches, sir; she can best relate
my melancholy story. Gleaners cross the stage ; enter Rosina.
Dor. His honour here? Good lack !
Bel. Will you let me speak with you a moment autumn's rich store I bring home my part,
alone, Dorcas ?
Dor. Rosina, take this basket. he weight on my head, but gay joy on my heart.
(Erit Rosina with the basket. That do I see ? Mr. Belville asleep? I'll steal Bel. Rosina has referred me to you, Dorcas, for oftly—at this moment I may gaze on him without an account of her birth, which I have long suspected lushing. (Lays down the corn, and walks softly up to be above her present situation. him. The sun points full on this spot; let me Dor. To be sure, your honour, since the dear isten these branches together with this riband, and child gives me leave to speak, she's of as good a hade him from its beams; yes, that will do. But family as any in England. Her mother, sweet lady,
be should wake_Takes the riband from her bosom, was my bountiful old master's daughter, 'Squire nd ties the branches together. )--how my heart beats! Welford, of Lincoloshire. His estate was seiz'd for )ne look more-ah! Î have waked him.
a mortgage of not half its value, just after young (She runs to the door of the cottage. madam was married, and she ne'er got a penny of Bel. What noise was that? This riband I have her portion. een before, and on the lovely Rosina's bosom. Bel. And her father ?
(Goes towards the cottage. Dor. Was a brave gentleman, too, a colonel Ros. I will hide myself in the house. (Rosina His honour went to the Eastern Indies, to better openiny the door, sees Capt. BelviLLE, and starts his fortune, and madam would go with him. The back.) Heavens! a man in the house!
ship was lost, and they, with all the little means Capt. B. Now, love assist me!
they had, went to the bottom. Young madam Ro. (Comes out and seises Rosina; she breaks from sina was their only child; they left her at school;
him, and runs affrighted across the stage ; but when this sad news came, the mistress did not
Dor. Martin; Colonel Martin.
Bel. I am too happy; he was the friend of my Ror. Where is he? A gentleman pursued me. father's heart; a thousand times have I heard him
lament his fate. Rosina's virtues shall not go un- strong, though purer ardous ;-bes rewarded.
hopeDor. Yes, I know'd it would be so. Heaven never Ros. Do not, sir, eavy me the cake forsakes the good man's children.
passing my independent days with Data Bel. I have another question to ask you, Dorcas. I have found a nother's tenderness and answer me sincerely ; is her heart free?
Bel. Do you refuse me too, then, I. Dor. To be sure, she never would let any of our Dor. You, sir? You ? young men come a-near her; and yet,
Ros. My confusion, my blushesBel. Speak; I am on the rack.
Bel. Then I am happy! My life! Dor. I'm afear'd, she mopes and she pines. But Phæ. Do you speak to his bodes, W. your honour would be angry; I'm afeard the Cap- Will. No; do you speak, Pegbe tain
Phz, I am ashame: William ! Bel. Then my foreboding heart was right. (Aside. nour-William prayed me to let ta kes Enter Rustic.
pany; so he gained my good wil to save
be my grandmother consents. Rust. Help, for heaven's sake, sir! Rosina's lost; Will. If your honour would be su she is carried away
to Dorcas. Bel. Rosina!
Bel. Dorcas, you must aot reisez
day. I'll give William a farm Capt. B. Don't be alarmed ; let me go; I'll dy and make her a good busband
Dor. Your honour is too kind-taek.. to save her. Bel. With me, sir; I will not lose sight of you. (BELVILLE joins their hands; they were
Will. That I will, dame. Rustic hasten instantly with our reapers. Dorcas,
Will. and Pha. Thank your bor. you will be our guide. Rust. Don't be frightened, sir; the Irishmen Dorcas would not take it
Will. What must I do with the purus. have rescued her; she is just here.
Bel. I believe my brother has the best Enter two Irishmen.
Capt. B. 'Tis your's, Wilhna; 1 Irish. Dry your tears, my jewel; we have done you please. for them.
Will. Then I'll give it to the Dor. Have you sav'd her? I owe you more than who fought so bravely for Ross life. 1 Irish. Faith, good woman, you owe me nothing
Bel. You have made good as 4* at all. I'll tell your honour how it was. My com- nor sball my gratitude stop bere. rades and I were crossing the meadow, going home,
Capt. B. Allow me to retire, in wheu we saw them first; and hearing a woman cry, am worthy of your esteem, I will return I look'd up, and saw them putting her into a skitf my rights in your affection. against her will. Says I," Paddy, is not that the
Beli You must not leave us, broche clever little crater that was glaning in the field with the race of bonour; be indeed a soldier, si 2 us this morning?” “ 'Tis so, sure enough,” says he. I than my brother ; be my friend “ By St. Patrick," says I, “ there's enough of us
FINALE to rescute her.” With that we ran for the bare life, waded up to the knees, laid about us bravely with Bel. To bless, and to be bles, bem our shillelaghs, knock'd them out of the skift, and
Whate'er our rask, whates, brought her back safe; and here she comes, my On some her siste bind for sa jewel.
Who reap, like a, in the rack came Re-enter Rustic, leading Rosina, who throws herself Capt. B. Yet those who taste her besty less
The sigh malevolent repres into DORCAS's arms.
And loud the feeling besan ke Dor. I canno' speak; art thou safe ?
Which something leares for en Bel. I dread to find the criminal.
Ros. Rust. Your honour need not go far a-field, I be
How blest am 1, supremely best lieve; it must bave been some friend of the Cap
Since Beloille all his soul express tain's, for his French valet commanded the party,
And fondly clasp'd me te hers Capt. B. I confess the crime; my passion for
I now may rearhow chang'i tam Rosina hurried me out of myself.
But ne'er can I forget the day, Bel. You have dishonoured me, dishonoured the
When all to want and we are glorious profession you have embraced. But be
Soft pity taught kis soul buy,
“ Unfeeling Rustic, let her gles" gone; I renounce you as my brother, and renounce my ill-plac'd friendship.
The hearts you glad your Capt. B. Your indignation is just; I have of
The heao'ns such goudsen fended almost past forgiveness. Will the offer of Rust.
And blest through many • my hand repair the injury?
Full crops you'll reap is this mes ** Bel. If Rosina accepts it, I am satisfied.
And 0! when summer's joge zi
Pbæ. Ros. [ To BELVILLE.) Will you, sir, suffer—This,
And autumn yields its fraide en sir, is a second insult. "Whoever offends the object
New blessings be there yet nem of his love, is unworthy of obtaining her.
For winter'i soker kus tales Bel. This noble refusal paints your character. Cho. And O! when sunner's jogi ees" I know another, Rosina, who loves you with as
THOMAS AND SALLY ;
OR, THE SAILOR'S RETURN:
A MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT, IN TWO ACTS
Though when in the arms of a lover,
It sometimes may happen, I know,
That, e'er all our toying is over,
We cannot help crying heigho!
In age ev'ry one a new part lakes,
I find, to my sorrow, 'tis so;
When old, you may cry till your heart aches,
But no one will mind you-heigho!
Dorcas. Go to. I come to make you glad,
Odzooks! what's here? this folly sets me mad.
You're grieving, and for whom ? 'tis pretty sport! ENE I.--A Village at the foot of a hill, with a For one that gets a wife at ev'ry port. cottage more advanced than the rest, on one side. Sally. Dorcas, for shame! how can you be so
base ? SALLY discovered spinning at the door. Or after this, look l'homas in the face ? AIR.-Sally.
His ship's expected
Dorcas. Tell not me. The 'Squire
As Tom is your's, you are his heart's desire.
Then why so peevish, and so froward still ?
He'll make your fortune, let him have his will. For my true love is gone to sea.
Were I as poor as wretch can be,
As great as any monarch he,
Ere on such terms I'd mount his throne,
P'd work my fingers to the bone.
Grant me, ye Pow'rs, (I ask not wealth,) But how can I in pleasure share,
Grant me but innocence and health,
Ah! what is grandeur link'd to vice ?
'Tis only virtue gives it price. (Exit. The flowers droop till light's return,
Dorcas. Well, go your ways. I cannot choose The pigeon mourns its absent she ;
but smile : So will I droop, so will I mourn,
Would I were young again ! alas, the while !
But what are wishes ? wishes will not do:
One cannot eat one's cake and have it too.
AIR.-DORCAS. till, still in tears ? Ah! you're a foolish maid ! When I was a young one, what girl was like me! a time, have prudence, your own int'rest see ; So wanton, so airy, and brisk as a bee : Fouth lasts not always; be advis'd by me. I tattled, I rambled, I laugh'd, and where'er AIR.--DORCAS.
A fiddle was heard, to be sure I was there.
To all that came near I had something to say;
'Twas this, sir, and that, sir, but scarce ever nay; Then why will you waste such treasure
And Sundays, dress'd out in my silks and my lace, In sighing, and crying heigho!
I warrant I stood by the best in the place. Let's copy the bird in the meadows,
At twenty, I got me a husband-poor man!
Yet he was so peevish, he'd quarrel for straws ;
And jealous—though, truly, I gave him some carin.