twenty times to that again; and moreover than so, the first time I meet un, I'll knock un down, tho'f 'twas before my lord himself; and he may capias me for it afterwards an he wull. AIR. As they count me such a ninny, They have scor'd without their host. To be sure yon sly cajoler Thought the work as good as done, But if I don't show him in lieu of it, [Exit. SCENE III. A Room in the Mill; two Chairs, with a Table, and a Tankard of Beer. Enter FAIRFIELD and LORD AIMWORTH. Fair. Oh the goodness, his lordship's honour-you are come into a littered place, my noble sir-the arm-chair-will it please your honour to repose you on this, till a better Lord A. Thank you, Miller, there's no occasion for either, I only want to speak a few words to you, and have company waiting for me without. Fair. Without-won't their honours favour my poor hovel so far Lord A. No, Miller, let them stay where they are. -I find you are about marrying your daughter-I know the great regard my mother had for her; and am satisfied, that nothing but her sudden death could have prevented her leaving her a handsome provision. Fair. Dear, my lord, your noble mother, you, and all your family, have heaped favours on favours on my poor child. Lord A. Whatever has been done for her she has fully merited Fair. Why, to be sure my lord, she is a very good girl. Lord A. Poor old man-but those are tears of satisfaction. Here, Master Fairfield, to bring matters to a short conclusion, here is a bill of a thousand pounds. Portion your daughter with what you think convenient of it. Fair. A thousand pound, my lord! Pray excuse me; excuse me, worthy sir; too much has been done already, and we have no pretensions- Lord A. I insist upon your taking it.-Put it up, and say no more. Fair. Well, my lord, if it must be so: but indeed, indeed Lord A. In this I only fulfil what I am satisfied would please my mother. As to myself, I shall take upon me all the expenses of Patty's wedding, and have already given orders about it. Fair. Alas, sir, you are too good, too generous; but I fear we shall not be able to profit of your kind intentions, unless you will condescend to speak a little to Patty. Lord A. How speak! Fair. Why, my lord, I thought we had pretty well ordered all things concerning this marriage; but all on a sudden the girl has taken it into her head not to have the farmer, and declares she will never marry at all. But I know, my lord, she'll pay great respect to any thing you say; and if you'll but lay your commands on her to marry him, I'm sure she'll do it. Lord A. Who, I lay my commands on her? Fair. Yes, pray, my lord, do; I'll send her in to you. Lord A. What can be the meaning of this?-Refuse to marry the farmer!-How, why?-My heart is thrown in an agitation; while every step I take, serves but to lead me into new perplexities. Fair. And I humbly beg you will tell her, you insist upon the match going forward; tell her you insist upon it, my lord, and speak a little angrily to her. [Exit, Enter PATTY. Lord A. I came hither, Patty, in consequence of our conversation this morning, to render your change of state as agreeable and happy as I could but your father tells me, you have fallen out with the farmer; has any thing happened, since I saw you last, to alter your good opinion of him? Patty. No, my lord, I am in the same opinion with regard to the farmer, now, as I always was. me Lord A. I thought, Patty, you loved him, you told Patty. My lord! Lord A. Well, no matter-It seems I have been mistaken in that particular-Possibly your affections are engaged elsewhere: let me but know the man that can make you happy, and I swear▬▬ Patty. Indeed, my lord, you take too much trouble upon my account. Lord A. Perhaps, Patty, you love somebody so : much beneath you, you are ashamed to own it; but your esteem confers a value wheresoever it is placed. Patty. Pray, pray, my lord, talk not to me in this style consider me as one destined by birth and fortune to the meanest condition and offices; who has unhappily been apt to imbibe sentiments contrary to them! Let me conquer a heart, where pride and vanity have usurped an improper rule; and learn to know myself, of whom I have been too long igno rant. Lord A. Perhaps, Patty, you love some one so much above you, you are afraid to own it-If so, be his rank what it will, he is to be envied: for the love of a woman of virtue, beauty, and sentiment, does honour to a monarch.-What means that downcast look, those tears, those blushes ? Dare you not confide in me?--Do you think, Patty, you have a friend in the world would sympathize with you more sincerely than I? Patty. What shall I answer!-My lord, you have ever treated me with a kindness, a generosity, of which none but minds like yours are capable: you have been my instructor, my adviser, my protector: but, my lord, you have been too good: when our superiors forget the distance between us, we are sometimes led to forget it too: had you been less condescending, perhaps I had been happier. Lord A. And have I, Patty, have I made you unhappy: I, who would sacrifice my own felicity, to cure yours? Patty. I beg, my lord, you will suffer me to begone: only believe me sensible of all your favours, though unworthy of the smallest. Lord A. How unworthy?-You merit every thing; my respect, my esteem, my friendship, and my love! Yes, I repeat, I avow it: your beauty, your modesty, your understanding, has made a conquest of my heart. But what a world do we live in! that, while I own this; while I own a passion for you, founded on the justest, the noblest basis, I must at the same time confess, the fear of that world, its taunts, its reproaches Patty. Ah! sir, think better of the creature you have raised, than to suppose I ever entertained a hope tending to your dishonour :-I am unfortunate, my lord, but not criminal. AIR. Cease, oh cease, to overwhelm me, [Exit. Enter SIR HARRY SYCAMORE, THEODOSIA, and GILES. Sir Harry. No justice of peace, no bailiffs, no headborough! Lord A. What's the matter, Sir Harry? Sir Harry. The matter, my lord-While I was examining the construction of the mill without, for I have some small notion of mechanics, Miss Sycamore had like to have been run away with by a gipsey man. Theod. Dear papa, how can you talk so? Did not I tell you it was at my own desire the poor fellow went to show me the canal? Sir Harry. Hold your tongue, miss. I don't know any business you had to let him come near you at all: we have stayed so long too; your mamma gave us but half an hour, and she'll be frightened out of her |
