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1 Irish. Bless your sweet face, my jewel, Bel. There are iwenty coveys within sight nd all those who take your part. Bad luck of my house, and the dogs are in fine order. o myself, if I would noi, with all the veins Capt.B. The gamekeeper is this moment If my heart, split the dew before your feet leading them round. I am fir'd at the sight. n a morning.

[To Belville. Rust. If I do speak a little cross, it's for our honour's good.

By dawn to the downs we repair, [The Reapers cut the Corn, and make

With bosoms right jocund and gay, it into Sheaves. Rosina follows, and gleans.

And gain more than pheasant or bareRust. [Seeing Rosina] What a dickens

Gain health by the sports of the day. loes this girl do here? Keep back; wait till Mark! mark! to the right hand, preparebe reapers are off the field; do like the other

See Diana!—she points !-see, they riseleaners.

See, they float on the bosom of air! Ros. [Timidly] is 1 bave done wrong, sir, Fire away! whilst loud echo replies will put what I have glean'd down again.

Fire away! [She lets falls the Ears she had gleaned. Bel. How can you be so unfeeling, Rustic?

Hark! the volley resounds to the skies! She is lovely, virtuous, and in want. Let fall

Whilst echo in thunder replies! ome ears, that she may glean the more,

In thunder replies, Rust. Your honour is too good by half.

And resounds to the skies, Bel. No more: galber up the corn she has Fire away! Fire away! Fire away! et fall. Do as I command you.

But where is my little rustic charmer? O! Rust. There, take the whole field, since his there she is: I am transported. [ Aside] Pray, sonour chooses it.

brother, is not that the little girl whose dawn[Putting the Corn into her Apron. ing beauty we admired so much last year? Ros. I will not abuse his goodness.

Bel. li is, and more lovely than ever. I [Retires, gleaning. shall dine in the field with my reapers to-day, 2 Irish. Upon my soul now, his honour's brother: will you share our rural' repast, or ho churl of the wheat, whale'er he may be have a dinner prepar'd at the manor-house? of the barley );

Capt. B. By no means: pray let me be of Bel. [Looking after Rosina] What be- your party; your plan is an admirable one, vitching sofiness! There is a blushing, bash-especially if your girls are handsome. ul gentleness, an almost infantine innocence walk round the field, and meci you at dinner n that lovely countenance, which it is im- time. possible to behold without emotion! She turns [Exeunt Belville and Ruslie. Captain bis way: What bloom on that check! 'Tis Beloille goes up to Rosina, gleans a few be blushing down of the peach.

Ears, and presents them to her; she
refuses them, and runs out; he follows

Her mouth, which a smile,
Devoid of all guile,

Enter William, speaking at the side Scene,
Half opens to view,
Is the bud of the rose,

Will. Lead the dogs back, James; the cap-
In the morning that blows,

lain won't shoot to day; [Seeing Rustic and Impearld with the dew.

Phæbe behind] ludeed, so close! I don't half

like it.
More fragrant her breath
Than the flow'r-scented heall

Enter Rustic and PHOEBE.
At the dawning of day;

Rust. That's a good girl ! Do as I bid you,
The hawthorn in bloom,

and you shan't want encouragement. The lily's perfume,

[He goes up to the Reapers, and William Or the blossoms of May.

comes forward.

Will. O no, I dare say she won't. So, Mrs. Enter Captain Belville, in a Riding-dress. Phæbe! Capt. B. Good morrow, brother; you are

Phæ. And so, Mr. William, if you go to early abroad.

that! Bel. My dear Charles, I am happy to see

Will. A new sweetheart, I'll be sworn; you. True, I lind, to the first of September 2). and a pretty comely lad he is: but he's rich,

Capt. B. I meant to have been here last and that's enough to win a woman. night, but one of my wheels broke, and I was Phæ. I don't desarve this of you, William: obliged to sleep at a village six miles distant, but I'm rightly sarved, for being such an easy where I left my chaise, and took a boat down fool. You think, mayhap, I'm at my last the river at day-break.' But your corn is not prayers; but you may find yourselt mistaken. of the ground.

Will. You' do right to cry out first; you Bel. You know our harvest is late in the think belike that I did not see you take ihat north; but you will find all the lands clear'd posy from Harry. on the other side the mountain.

Phæ. And you, belike, that I did not catch Capt. B. And pray, brother, how are the you tying up one, of cornflowers and wild ropartridges this season?

ses, for the miller's maid; but I'll be foolid 1) He gives his bread away willingly enough; but he no longer; I have done with you, Mr. Wil

seems to keep his drink all to himsel-Leer being liam.

made from milt and hops. 2) The eaplain is a sportsman, and does not forget the est

Will. I shan't break my heart, Mrs. Phæbe. of Seplember, the beginning of the shooting-scason

The miller's maid loves the ground I walk on.


the green,

Duett. – WILLIAM and PHOEBE. Dor. 'Tis very kind.–And old ageWill. I've kiss'd and I've praltled to fifty fair Ros. He'll tell you that himself. maids,

[Goes into the Cottage, And chang'd them as oft, d'ye see! Dor. I thought so.-Sure, sure, 'tis no sin But of all the fair maidens that dance on to be old.

Capt. B. You must not judge of me by The maid of the mill for me, others, honest Dorcas. I am sorry for your Phæ. There's fifty young men have told me

misfortunes, and wish to serve you. fine tales,

Dor. And to what, your bonour, may I And call'd me the fairest she:

owe this kindness? But of all the gay wrestlers that sport

Capt. B. You have a charming daughteron the green,

Dor. I thought as much. A vile, wicked Young Harry's the lad 'for me. man!

[Aside Will. Her eyes are as black as the sloe in

Capt. B. Beauty like hers might find a the hedge,

thousand resources in London; the moment Her face like the blossoms in May, she appears there, she will turn every

head. Her teeth are as white as the new

Dor. And is your honour sure her own shorn flock,

won't turn at the same time? Her breath like the new-made hay.

Capt. B. She shall live in affluence, and

take care of you too, Dorcas. Phoe. He's tall and he's straight as the

Dor. I guess your honour's meaning; bat poplar tree, His cheeks are as fresh as the rose;

you are mistaken, sir. If I must be a trouble

ío the dear child,' I had rather owe my bread He looks like a squire of high degree to her labour than ber sbame.

When drest in his Sunday clothes. [Goes into the Cottage, and shuts the Door. Will. I've kiss'd and I've prattled, etc. Capt. B. These women astonish me; but I Phæ. There's fifty young men, etc.

won't give it up so. [Exeunt on different sides of the Stage.

Enter Rustic, crossing the Stage. Rosina runs across the Stage ; CAPTAIN A word with you, Rustic. BELVILLE following her.

Rust. I am in a great burry, your honour; Capt. B. Stay and hear me, Rosina. Why I am going to hasten dinner. will you fatigue yourself thus? Only homely Capt. B. I shan't keep you a minute. Take girls are born to work. — Your obstinacy is these five guineas. vain; you shall hear me.

Rust. For whom, sir? Ros. Why do you stop me, sir? My time Capt. B. For yourself. And this purse. is precious. When the" gleaning season is Rust. For whom, sir ? over, will you make up my loss ?

Capt. B. For Rosina; they say she is in Capt. B. Yes.

distress, and wants assistance. Rós. Will it be any advantage to you to Rust. What pleasure it gives me to see make me lose my day's work?

you so charitable!

You are just like you Capt. B. Yes.

brother. Ros.' Would it give you pleasure to see Capt. B. Prodigiously. me pass all my days in idleness?


. But why give me money, sir? Capt. B. Yes.

Capt. B. Only io — tell Rosina there is : Ros. We differ greatly then, sir. I only person who is very much interested in het wish for so much leisure as makes me return happiness. to my work with fresh spirit. We labour all Rust. How much you will please his hothe week, 'tis true; but then how sweet is nour by this! He takes mightily to Rosina our rest on Sunday!

and prefers her to all the young women in

the parish. Whilst with village maids I stray, Capt. B. Prefers her! Ah! you sly rogue Swcelly wears the joyous day;

[Laying his Hand on Rustic's Shoulder

. Cheerful glows my artless breast,

Rust. Your honour's a wag; but I'm sure Mild content the constant guest.

I meant no harm. Capt. B. Mere prejudice, child ; you will Capt. B. Give her the money, and tell her know better. I pity you, and will make your she shall never want a friend; but not a word fortune.

to my brother. Ros. Let me call my mother, sir: I am young, Rust

. All's safe, your honour. [E.cit Capt. and can support myself by, my labour; but Belville] I don't vastly like this business. Al she is old and helpless, and your charity will the captain's age, this violent charity is a link be well bestow'd. Please to transfer to her duberous ?). Tam his honour's servant, and the bounty you intended for me.

it's my duty to hide nothing from him. fl Capt. B. Why-as to that -

go seek his honour; O, here he comes. Ros. I understand you, sir; your compas

Enter BELVILLE. sion does not extend to old women,

Bel. Well, Rustic, have you any Capt. B. Really-I believe not.

gence to communicate?

Rust. A vast deal, sir. Your brother beEnter Dorcas.

gins to make good use of this money; he bas Ros. You are just come in time, mother. given me these five guineas for myself

, and I have met with a generous gentleman, whose lihis purse for Rosina. charity inclines him to succour youth.

1) Dubious,




Bel. For Rosina! 'Tis plain he loves her.

ACT II. Aside] Obey him exactly; but as distress

SCENE I. - The same. enders the mind haughty, and Rosina's situaon requires the utmost delicacy; contrive to

Enter Rustic. xecute your commission in such a manner at she may noi even suspect from whence Rust. This purse is the plague of my life; ne money comes.

I bate money when it is not my own.

I'll Rust. I understand your honour.

e'en put in the five guineas he gave me for Bel. Have you gain'd any intelligence in myself: I don't want it, and they do. They espect to Rosina?

certainly must find it there. But I hear the Rust. I endeavour'd to get all I could from cottage-door open. [Retires a little. ne old woman's grand daughter; but all she new was, that she was no kin to Dorcas, Enter Dorcas and Rosina from the Cottage. nd that she had had a good bringing-up; but

Dorcas with a great Basket on her Arm, ere are the labourers.

filled with Skeins of Thread.

Dor. I am just going, Rosina, to carry Enter DORCAS, Rosina, and PHOEBE. this thread to the weaver's. Bel. But I don't see Rosina. Dorcas, you

Ros. This basket is too heavy for you: just come too, and Phæbe.

pray let me carry it. Dor. We can't deny your honour.

[Takes the Basket from Dorcas, and Ros. I am asham'd; but you command, sir.

sels it down on the Bench. Dor. No, no.

Peevishly. inter Captain Belville, followed by the

Ros. If

you love me, only take half; this Reapers.

evening, or lo-morrow morning, I will carry

the rest.—[Takes Part of the Skeins out of the 3el. By this fountain's flow'ry side, Basket and lays them on the Bench, look

Drest in nature's blooming pride, ing affectionately on Dorcas] There, be
Where the poplar trembles high, angry with me is you please.
And the bees in clusters fly;

Dor. No, my sweet lamb, I am not angry;
Whilst thc herdsman on the hill but beware of men.
Listen to the falling rill,

Ros. Have you any doubts of my conduct,
Pride and cruel scorn away,

Dorcas ?
Let us share the festive day.

Dor. Indeed I have not, love; and yet I
Taste our pleasures ye who may,

am uneasy Ros. This is Nature's holiday.

Enter Captain Belville, unperceived. Bel. Simple Nature ye who prize,

Go back to the reapers, (Life's fantastic forms despise.

whilst I carry this

thread. Cho. Taste our pleasures ye who may,

Ros. I'll go this moment.
This is Nature's holiday.

Dor. But as I walk but slow, and 'tis a Capt. B. Blushing Bell, with downcast

good way, you may chance to be at home

eyes, Sighs and knows not why she sighs;

before me; so take the key.

Ros. I will.
Tom is near her-we shall know-
How he eyes her—Is't not so?

Capt. B. [Aside, while Dorcas feels in

her Pockets for the Key] Rosina to be at Tho. Taste our pleasures ye who may, home before Dorcas! How lucky! I'll slip inThis is Nature's holiday.

to the house, and wait her coming, if 'tis till Will. He is fond, and she is shy;

midnight. He would kiss her!-fie!--ch, fie!

[He goes unperceived by them into the Cottage. Mind thy sickle, let her be;

Dor. Let nobody go into the house.

Ros. I'll take care; but first I'll double-lock By and by she'll follow thee.

the door. Cho. Busy censors, hence, away;

[While she is locking the Door, Dorcas, This is Nalure's holiday.

going to take up the Basket, sees the Purse.

Dor. Good lack! What is here! a purse, Now we'll quaffthe nut-brown ale, Rust. Then we'll tell the sportive tale;

as I live!

Ros. How !
Dor. All is jest, and all is glee,
All is youthful jollity.

Dor. Come, and see; 'tis a purse indeed.

Ros. Heav'ns! 'lis full of gold. Cho. Taste our pleasures ye


may, Dor. We must put up a bill at the churchThis is Nature's holiday.

gate, and restore it to the owner. The best Lads and lasses, all advance,

way is to carry the money to his honour, Phæ, Carol blithe, and form the dance;

and get him to keep it till the owner is found. Irish Girl. Trip it lightly while you may,

You shall go with it, love. | Irish. This is Nature's holiday.

Ros. Pray excuse me, I always blush so.

Dor. 'Tis nothing but childishness: but his Cho. Trip it lightly while you may, honour will like your bashfulness better than This is Nature's holiday. too much courage.

[Exit. All rise; the Dancers come down the Stage Ros. I cannot support his presence--my

through the Sheaves of Corn, which are embarrassment-my confusion--a stronger senremoved; the Dance begins, and finishes sation than that of gratitude agitates my heart. the Act.

- Yet hope in my situation were madness.




If chance some fairing caught her eye, Sweet transports, gentle wishes go!

The riband gay or silken glove, In vain his charms have gain'd my heart; With eager haste I ran to buy; Since fortune, still to love a foe,

For what is gold compar'd to love? And cruel duly, bid us part.

My posy on her bosom plac'd, Ah! why does duly chain the mind,

Could Harry's sweeter scents exhale! And part those souls which love has join'd? Her auburn locks my riband grac'd, Enter WILLIAM.

And flutter'd in the wanton gale. Pray, William, do you know of any body

With scorn she bears me now complain, that has lost a purse?

Nor can my rustic presenls move: Will. I knows nothing about it.

Her heart presers a richer swain, Ros. Dorcas, however, bas found one.

And gold, alas! has banish'd love, Will. So much the beller for she.

Will. [Coming back] Let's part friend Ros. You will oblige me very much if you howsomever. Bye?), Phæbe: I shall alwa will carry it to Mr. Belville, and beg him to wish you well. keep it till the owner is found.

Pha. Bye, VVilliam. Will. Since you desire it, I'll it shan't [Cries, wiping her Eyes with her Apra be the lighter för my carrying:

Will. My heart begins to melt a Ros. That I am sure of, William. [E.cit. [Aside] I lov'd you very well once, Pbah

but you are grown so cross, and Enter Phoebe.

vagariesPhæ. There's William; but I'll pretend not Phà. I'm sure I never had no sagari to see him.

with you, William. But go; maybap ka

may be angry. Henry culld the flow'ret's bloom,

Will. And who cares for she? I ne Marian lov'd the soft perfume,

minded her anger, nor her coaxing netbe Had playful kiss'd, but prudence near till you were cross to me. Whisper'd timely in her ear,

Phæ. [Holding up her Hands] O the Simple Marian, ah! beware ;

ther! I cross to you,

William ? Touch them not, for love is there.

Will. Did not you tell me, this very mor Throws away her Nosegay. While she is ing, as how you had done wi' me?

singing, William turns, looks at her, Phæ. One word's as good as a thousan whistles, and plays with his Slick. Do you love me, William? Will. That's Harry's posy; the slut likes Vill. Do I love thee? Do I love danci me still.

on the green better than thrashing in Phæ. That's a copy of bis countenance, I'm barn? Do I 'love a wake; or a barvest-bom sartin; he can no more help following me nor Phæ. Then I'll never speak to Harry aga he can be hang'd.

the longest day I have to live. [Aside. William crosses again, singing. Will. i'll turn my back o'the miller's ma of all the fair maidens that dance on the green, the first time I meet her. The maid of the mill for me.

Phæ. Will you indeed, and indeed? Phæ. I'm ready to choke wi' madness; but Will. Marry will l; and more nor the I'll not speak first, an 1 die fort.

I'll go speak io the parson this moment -! [William sings, throwing up his Stick happier-zooks, I'm happier and catching it.

squire of five bundred a year. Will. Her eyes are as black as the sloe in the bedge,

Duett. - Phoebe and WILLJAM. Her face like the blossoms in May. Phæ. In gaudy courts, with aching hearts, Phæ. I can't bear it no longer-you vile,

The great at fortune rail: ungrateful, parfidious – But it's no malter- The hills may higher honours claim, I can't think what I could see in you-Harry

But peace is in the rale.
and is a thousand times more hand-
[Sings, sobbing al every Word.

Will. See high-born dames, in rooms of stal Of all the gay wrestlers that spost on ibe green,

With midnight revels pale; Young Harry's the lad for me.

No youth admires their fading chart Wii. He's yonder a reaping: shall I call

For beauty's in tbe vale, him?

(Offers to go. Both. Amid the shades the virgin's sighs Phæ. My grandmother leads me the life

Add fragrance to the gale: of a dog; and it's all along of you.

So they that will may take ibe bill, Will. Well, then she'll be better temper'd

Since love is in the rale. Phæ. I did not value her scolding of a

Enter BELVIILS. brass farthing, when I thought as how you

Bel. I tremble al the impression this forced

girl has made on my heart. My cheerlulise Will. Wasn't I true to you? Look in my has left me, and I am grown insensible en face, and say that.

to the delicious pleasure of makinsg those happy

who depend on my protection. When bidden to the wake or fair,

The joy of each frec-hearted swain, Ere bright Rosina met my, eyes, Till Pbebe promis'd to be there,

How peaceful pass'd the joyous day! I loiter'd, last of all the train.

1) Good bye,-shortened from good be with you

or a lord or

loves me,



[E.reunt, Arm in An

were true lo me.



my side,


your side,

In rural sports I gaind the prize,

Bel. To what motive do I owe this tender Each virgin listend to my say.

attention? But now no more I touch the lyre,

Ros. Ah, sir! do not the whole village No more the rustic sport can please ;

love you? I live the slave of fond desire,

Bel. You tremble; why are you alarmid ? Lost to myself, !o mirth, and ease.

Duett. BELVILLE and Rosina. The tree that in a happier hour,

Bel. [Taking her Hand] For you, my sweet It's boughs extended o'er the plain,

maid, nay, be not afraid, When blasted by the lightning's power,

[Ros. withdraws her Hand. Nor charms the eye, nor shades the swain. I feel an affection which yet wants a name. ince the sun rose, I have been in continual Ros. When first-but in vain-1 seek to xercise; I feel exhausted, and will try to

explain, est a quarter of an hour on this bank. What heart but must love you? I blush, fear, [Lies down on a Bank by the Fountain.

and shameileaners pass the Stage, with sheaves of Bel. Why thus timid, Rosina? still safe by Corn on their Heuds ; last Rosina, who comes forward singing.

Let me be your guardian, protector, and guide, ,-ROSINA.

Ros. My timid heart pants-still sale by ight as thistle-down moving, which floats on the air,

Be you my protector, my guardian, iny guide. weet gratitude's debt to this cottage I bear:

Bel. Why, thus timid. etc. Df autumn's rich slore I bring home my part,

Ros. My timid heart pants, etc. "he weight on my head, but gay joy in my Bel. Unveil your mind to me, Rosina. The heart.

graces of your form, the native dignity of Vhat do I see? Mr. Belville asleep? Il your mind which breaks through the lovely teal softly--at this moment I may gaze on simplicity of your deporlment, a thousand im without blushing. [Lays down the Corn, circumstances concurto convince me you nd walks softly up to him] The sun points were not born a villager. all on this spot; let me fasten these branches Ros. To you, sir, I can have no reserve. ogether with this riband, and shade him from A pride, I hope an honest one, made me s beams-yes-that will do—But if he should wish to sigh in secret over my misfortunes. vake-[Takes the Riband from her Bosom, Bel. [Eagerly] They are at an end. nd ties ,the Branches together] How my Ros. "Dorcas approaches, sir! she can best eart beats! One look more - Ah! I bare relate my melancholy story. rak'd him.

Enter DORCAS. [She flies, and endeavours to hide her

self against the Door of the Cottage, Dor. His honour bere? Good lack! How

turning her Head every instant. sorry I am I happend to be from home. Troth, Bel. What noise was that?

I'm sadly tir'd. [Half raising himself. Bel. Will you let me speak with you a Ros. He is angry-How unhappy I am! moment alone, Dorcas ? low I tremble!

[Aside. Dor. Rosina, take this basket. Bel. This riband I have seen before, and

[E:rit Rosina, with the Basket. n the lovely Rosina's bosom,

Bel. Rosina has referr'd me to you,

Dor[He rises, and goes toward the Cottage. cas, for an account of her birth, which I have Ros. I will hide myself in the house. (Ro- long suspected to be above her present situaina, opening the Door, sces Capt. Beloille, tion. nd starts back] Heavens! a man in the house! Dor. To be sure, your honour, since the Capt. B. Now, love assist me!

dear child gives me leave to speak, she's of as [Comes out and seizes Rosina; she breaks good a family, as any in England. Her mo

from him, and runs affrighted across ther, sweet lady, was my bountiful old master's the Stage; Belville follows; Captain daughter, squire Welford, of Lincolnshire. His Belville, who comes out to pursue her, eslate was seiz'd for a morigage of not half sees his Brother, and steals off at the its value, just after young madam was

other Scene; Belville leads Rosina back. ried, and she ne'er got a penny of her porBel. Why do you fly th Rosina ? What tion. an you fear? You are out of breath.

Bel. And her fatber? Ros. O, sir!—my strength fails - [Leans Dor. Was a brave gentleman too, a colon Belville, who supports her in his Arms] nel. llis honour went to the Eastern Indies, Where is he?-A gentleman pursued me- to better bis fortune, and madam would go

[Looking round. with him. The ship was lost, and they, with Bel. Don't be alarm'd, 'was my brother, all the little means they had, went to the e could not mean to offend you.

bottom. Young madan Rosina was their onRos. Your brother! Why then does he ly child; they left her at school; but when lot inuitate your virtues? Why was be here? ibis sad news came, the mistress did not care

Bel. Forget this: you are safe. But tell me, for keeping her, so the dear child has shar'd Rosina, for the question is to me of import- my poor inorsel. ince, have I not seen you wear this riband? Bel. But her father's name?

Ros. Forgive me, sir; I did not mean to Dor. Martin; colonel Martin. listurb you. I only meant to shade you from Bel. I am too happy; he was the friend be too great heat of the sun.

of my father's heart: a thousand times have


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