Preserve my reason, memory, and sense! O, Charlotte! Charlotte! lovely, virtuous maid! Why dost thou gaze so wildly? Look on me; [After viewing him some Time, she approaches turning towards him, sinks upon his Bosom. Why dost thou weep? Why dost thou tremble thus? Why doth thy panting heart, and cautious touch, Speak thee but half convinc'd? Whence are thy fears? Why art thou silent? Canst thou doubt me still ? Char. No, Wilmot! no; I'm blind with too much O'ercome with wonder, and oppress'd with joy. Y. Wilm. Let me know it: Give me my portion of thy sorrow, Charlotte! Char. Alas, my Wilmot ! these sad tears are thine; They flow for thy misfortunes. I am pierc'd With all the agonies of strong compassion, D Y. Wilm. Are no more. Char. You apprehend me wrong. Y. Wilm. Perhaps I do, Perhaps you mean to say, the greedy grave To bless my longing eyes. But which, my Charlotte? Char. Afflict yourself no more with groundless fears: Your parents both are living. Their distress- In spite of my weak aid, was what I mourn'd: Y. Wilm. My joy's complete! My parents living, and possess'd of thee!- No more shall cruel want, or proud contempt, The hoary heads of those who gave me being. Of thy lamenting parents, call thee hence. Y. Wilm. I have a friend, the partner of my voyage, Who, in the storm last night, was shipwreck'd with me. Char. Shipwreck'd last night!-O, you immortal powers; What have you suffered! How were you preserv'd?} Y. Wilm. Let that, and all my other strange es capes, And perilous adventures, be the theme Of many a happy winter night to come. Char. I consent with pleasure. Y. Wilm. Heavens! what a night! How shall I bear my joy! My parents, yours, my friends, all will be mine. Then what the ruddy autumn What the fruit, SCENE II. [Exeunt severally. A Street in Penryn. Enter RANDAL. Rand. Poor! poor! and friendless! whither shall I wander? And to what point direct my views and hopes? Turn thy eyes then to the prolific ocean, That dares put in his claim.—My choice is made : Enter YOUNG WILMOT. Y. Wilm. Randal! the dear companion of my youth! Sure, lavish fortune means to give me all Rand. Your pardon, sir! I know but one on earth Could properly salute me by the title You're pleas'd to give me ; and I would not think That you are he-that you are Wilmot ! Y. Wilm. Why? Rand. Because I could not bear the disappointment, If I should be deceiv'd. Y. Wilm. I am pleas'd to hear it : Thy friendly fears better express thy thoughts Than words could do. Rand. O, Wilmot !—O, my master! Are you return'd? Y. Wilm. I have not yet embrac'd My parents-I shall see you at my father's. Rand. No, I am discharg'd from thence-O, sir, such ruin Y. Wilm. I've heard it all, and hasten to relieve them : Sure, Heaven hath bless'd me to that very end: I've wealth enough-nor shalt thou want a part. Rand. I have a part already-I am blest In your success, and share in all your joys. Y. Wilm. I doubt it not-But tell me, dost thou think, My parents not suspecting my return, That I may visit them, and not be known? Rand. "Tis hard for me to judge-You are, already, Grown so familiar to me, that I wonder I knew you not at first: yet it may be ; For you're much alter'd, and they think you dead.' And heard my loud reproaches, and complaints, If it be possible, by seeing first Rand. It may, indeed, Enhance your own, to see from what despair Y. Wilm. I remember, E'er since we learn'd together, you excell'd Whatever hand you saw, with great exactness. I therefore beg you'll write, in Charlotte's name And recommend me, as a friend of her's, To his acquaintance. Rand. Sir, if you desire it And yet Y. Wilm. Nay, no objections! 'Twill save time, Most precious with me now. For the deception, If doing what my Charlotte will approve, |