« ZurückWeiter »
Theo. Her fondness indeed is very extraAh! why should fate, pursuing
ordinary. A wretched thing like me,
Sir H. Besides, could you give up the proHeap, ruin thus on ruin,
spect of being a countess, and mistress of this And add to misery?
sine place? The griefs I languish'd under
Theo. Yes, truly, could I.
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 House,
More pleasing than courts or a palace to me. Enter SIR HARRY SYCAMORE and THEODOSIA. Let the rain and the venal in wedlock aspire
Sir H. Well but, Theodosia, child, you are To what folly esteems, and the vulgar admire quite unreasonable.
I yield them the bliss, where their wishe Theo. Pardon me, papa, it is not I am un
are plac'd, reasonable, but you; when I gave way to my Insensible creatures! 'tis all they can taste. inclinations for Mr. Mervin, he did not seem
Enter LADY SYCAMORE. less agreeable to you and my mamma than he was acceptable to me.
It is therefore you
Lady S. Sir Harry, where are you? have been unreasonable, in first encouraging Sir H. Here, my lamb. Mr. Mervin's addresses, and afterwards for Lady S. I am just come from looking ove bidding him your house; in order to bring his lordship’s family trinkets.-Well, miss sy me down here, to force me on a gentleman-camore, you are a bappy crealure, to bar
Sir H. Force you, Dossy ?), what do you diamonds, equipage, title, and all the blessing mean? By the la, I would not force you on of life poured thus upon you at once. the czar of Muscovy.
Theo. Blessings, madanı! Do you llig Theo. And yet, papa, what else can I call then I am such a wreich as to place my it? for though Iord'Aimworth is extremely al- licity in the possessiol of any such trumpery tentive and obliging, I assure you he is by Lady S. Upon my word, miss, you ba no means one of the most ardent of lovers. a very disdainful manner of expressing you Sir H, Ardent, ah! there it is; you girls self; I believe there are very
young never think there is any love, without kissing men of fashion, who would think any sace and hugging; but you should consider, child, fice they could make too much for ibemmy 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, niy dear, I have just be things are not the fashion: I remember when talking to her in the same strain, but wha
on my travels, among the madames ever she has got in ber head-. and signoras, we never saluted more than the Lady S. Oh, it is Mr. Mervin, her gemi tip of the ear.
man of Bucklersbury.–Fie, miss, marry a Theo. Really, papa, you have a very strange Were is your pride, your vanity; have a opinion of my delicacy.
nothing of the person of distinction about you Sir H. Well come, my poor Dossy, I see
Sir it. Well but, my lady, you know you are chagrin'd, but you know it is not my am a piece of a cit myself, as I may say, fault; on the contrary, I assure you, I had my great-grandfather was a dry-salter
. always a great regard for young Mervin, and Theo. And yet, madam, you condescende should have been very glad
to marry my papa. Theo. How then, papa, could you join in Lady S. Well, if I did, miss, 1 bad but fe forcing me to write him that strange letter, thousand pounds' to my portion, and sir Hari never to see me more? or how indecd could knows I was past eight-and-thirty before I comply with your commands? what must would listen to him. be think of me?
Sir H. Nay, Dossy, that's true, your man Sir H. Ay, but hold, Dossy, your mamma ma own'd eight-and-thirty before we sred convinced me that he was not so proper a married: but by the la, my dear, you want son-in-law for us as lord Aimworth. a lovely angel; and by candle-lighi nobod
Theo. Convinced you! Ah, my dear papa, would have taken you for above fire-ad you were not convinced.
twenty. Sir H. What, don't I know when I am Lady S. Sir Harry, you remember the la convinced?
time I was at my lord duke's. Theo. Why no, papa; because your good
Sir H. Yes, my love, it was the very
dan nature and easiness of temper is such, that your little bitch Minxey pupt. you pay more respect to the judgment of Lady S. And pray what did the whole 5 mamma,
and less to your own, ihan you mily say? my lord John, and my lord The ought to do.
mas, and my lady duchess in particular Sir H. Well
, but Dossy, don't you see how Cousin, says her grace to me--for she alwart your mamma loves me? If the tip of my little called me cousinfinger does but ache, she's like a bewitched Theo. Well but, madam, to cut this matsa 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: pay, for Mr. Mervin, and would consent to our she has told me as much herself.
union with all his heart. 1) Dossy is an 'abbreviation of Theodosia.
Lady S. Do you say so, sir Harry?
gry with 1.
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 re come to nothing.
of my mother's, madam, who was bred up Sir H. Well, but stay, my lady-Dossy, under her care, and I protest I do not know ou are always making mischief.
a more amiable young woman.-But are you Theo. Ah! my dear sweet
sure, farmer, that Patty herself is inclinable Lady S. Do, miss, that's right, coax- to this match?
Theo. No, madam, I am not capable of Giles. O yes, my lord, I am sartain of that. ny such meanness.
Lord A. Perhaps then she desired you to Lady S. 'Tis very civil of you to contradict come and ask my consent? ne bowever,
Giles. Why as far as this here, my lord; Sir H. Eb! what's that-band's off, Dossy, to be sure, the miller did not care to publish on't come near me.
the bans, without making your lordship ac
quainted-But I hope your honour's not anWhy how now, miss pert, Do you think to divert
Lord A. Angry, farmer! why should you My anger by fawning and stroking? think so ?-wbat interest have I in it to be
Would you make me a fool, Your plaything, your tool?
Sir H. And so, honest farmer, you are Was ever young minx so provoking? going to be married to little Pally Fairfield? Get out of my sight!
She's an old acquaintance of mine: how long 'Twould be serving you right,
bave you and she been sweethearts? To lay a sound dose of the lash on:
Giles. Not a long while, an please your Contradict your mamma!
worship: I've a mind by the la
Sir H. Well, her father's a good warm But I won't put myself in a passion.
fellow; I suppose you take care that she brings [Erit Theo. something to make the pot boil?
Lady š. What does ihat concern you, sir Enter LORD AIMWORTH and GILES.
Harry? How often must I tell you of meddLord A. Come, farmer, you may come in, ling in other people's affairs ? bere are none here but friends. — Sir Harry, Sir H. My lord, a penny
your thoughts?). our servant,
Lord A. 'I beg your pardon, sir Harry; Sir H. My lord, I kiss your lordship's hands upon my word, I did not think where I was. -I hope he did not overhear us squabbling. Giles. Well then, your honour, I'll make
[Aside. bold to be taking my leave; I may say you Lord A. Well now, master Giles, what is gave consent for miss Patty and I to go on. t you have got to say to me? If I can do Lord A. Undoubtedly, farmer, if she ap'ou any service, this company will give you proves of it: but are you not afraid that her eave to speak.
education has rendered her a little unsuitable Giles. I thank your lordship; I has not got for a wife for you? great deal to say; I do come to your lord- Lady S. Oh, my lord, if the girl's handybip about a little business, if you'll please to Sir H. Oh, ay-when a girl's handyfive me the hearing.
Giles. Handy! Why, saving respect, there's Lord A. Certainly, only let me know what nothing comes amiss to her; she's cute at
every varsal kind of thing. Giles. Why, an please you, my lord, being eft alone, as I may say, seyther dead, and all Odd's my life, search England over, he business upon my own hands, I do think An you match her in her slation, if settling and taking a wife, and am come l'll be bound to fly the nation: ax your honour's consent.
And be sure as well I love her. Lord A. My consent, farmer! if that be ne- Do but feel my heart a beating, essary, you have it with all my heart-I hope Still her pretty name repeating; rou have
taken care to make a prudent choice. Here's the work 'tis always at, Giles. Why I do hope so, my
Pitty, patty, pat, pit, pat. Lord A. Well, and who is the happy fair ine? Does she live in my house?
When she makes the music tinkle, Giles. No, my lord, she does not live in
What on yearth can sweeter be?
Then her little eyes so twinkle, our house, but she's a parson of your ac
'Tis a fcast to hear and see, [Exit. uaintance. Lord A. Of my acquaintance !
Sir H. By dad, this is a good, merry fellow;
is not he, love? with his pitly patly-And so, Giles. No offence, I hope, your honour. Lord A. None in the leasi: but how is she he shall marry your mother's old bousekeep
my lord, you have given your consent that in acquaintance of mine?
Giles. Your lordship do know miller Fair-er. Ab, well, I can seeield?
1) A young lady being once melancholy and thoughtful
in the presence of a gentleman for whom she had a Lord A. Well
sort of a tendre; which was returned on his part also, Giles. And Patty Fairfield, his daughter, 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 perny for your Lord A. Ay, is it her you think of marrying? ihonghts.) “For ibe other odd (remaining) eleven
Giles. Why if so be as your lordship. bas pence you shall have thoughts and thinker," answered 10 objection; to be sure we will do nothing
the lady; the gentleman produced a shilling, and tho
lady consented to marry him.-- This is now often used, without your consent and approbation.
but not necessarily implying this meaning.
ny lord ?
Lurd A. Nobody doubts, sir Harry, that have not something to spare for poor Fann 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 ba what; I was a young fellow once myself; no change about him; why the plague w and I should have been glad of a tenant to you be so troublesome? take a pretty girl off my hands now and then, Fan. Lord, what is it to you, if his ho as well as another.
our has a mind to give me a trifle? D Lord A. I prolest, my dear friend, I don't pray, gentleman, put your hand in you understand you.
pocket. Lady S. Nor nobody else-Sir Harry, you Mer. I am almost distracted! Ungrated are going at some beastliness now.
Theodosia, to change so suddenly, and wri Sir H. Who I, my lady? Not I, as I hope me such a letter! However, I am resoli to live and breathe, 'tis nothing to us you to have my dismission face to face; this le know, what my lord does before he's married : ter may be forced from her by her mothe when I was a bachelor, I was a devil among who I know was never cordially my frien the wenches myself; and yet I vow to George, I could not get a sight of her in London, bi my lord, since I knew my lady Sycamore, bere they will be less on their guard; an 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 esten had to do
your charity ? Lady S. Sir Harry, come out of the room,
A I R. I desire,
I am young, and I am friendless, Sir H. Why, what's the matter, my lady, And poor, alas! withal; I did not say any harm?
Sure my sorrows will be endless ; Lady S. I see what you are driving at, you In vain for belp I call. want to make me faint.
Have some pity in your nature, Sir H. I want to make you faint, my lady? To relieve a wretched creature, Lady S. Yes, you do--and if you don't
Though the gist be ne'er so small come out this insiant I shall fall down in the
[Mervin gives her Money chamber-I beg, my lord, you won't speak to him. Will you come out, sir Harry?"
May you, possessing every blessing, Sir H. Nay but, my lady!
Still inherit, sir, all you merit, sir, Lady S. No. I will have you out.
And never know what it is to want; [Ereunt Sir Harry and Lady Sycamore.
Sweet heaven your worship all happies Lord A. This worthy baronet and his lady
grant! are certainly a very whimsical couple; how- Ralph. Now I'll go and take that moss ever, their daughter is perfectly amiable in from her; and I have a good mind to la every respect and yet I am sorry I have her, so I have. brought her down here; for can I in honour Mer. Pho, pr’ythee stay where you are
. marry her, while my affections are engaged, Ralph. Nay, but I hate to see a toads to another? To what does the pride of con- devilish greedy. dition and the censure of the world force me! Mer. Well, come, she has not got a great Must I then renounce the only person that deal, and I have thought how she may
dos can make me happy; because, because what? a favour in her turn. because she's a miller's daughter? Vain pride Ralph. Ay, but you may put that out el and unjust censure! Has she not all the gra- your head, for I can tell you she won't ces that education can give her sex, improved Mer. How so? by a genius seldom found among the highest ?)., Ralph. How so, why she's as cunning a 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 B think of these things now; my hand is pro-me's Ralph, I think? mised, my honour engaged: and if it was not Ralph. Yes, sir, at your service, for 13 so, she has engaged herself; the farmer is a of a better. person to her mind, and I have authorized Mer. I say then, friend Ralph, in that care iheir union by my approbation,
we will remit the favour you think of, tilt
lady, is in a more complying bumour, The madman thus, at times, we see,
try if she cannot serve me at present in s With seeming reason blest;
other capacity – There are a good many Et His looks, his words, his thoughts are free,
sies hereabout, are there not? And speak a mind at rest,
Ralph. Softly - I have a whole gang
them here in our barn; I have kept than But short the calms of ease and sense, about the place these three months, and And ah! uncertain too,
on account of sbe. While that idea lives from whence
Mer. Really. At first his frenzy grew.
Ralph. Yea, — but for your life don" s
a word of it to any Christian-I Scene III. – A Village.
Mer. Indeed! Enter Ralph, with Mervin in a riding Dress,
Ralph, Feyther 'is as mad with me abord followed by Fanny.
it as old Scratch; and I gets the plague and Fan. Ah, pray, your honour, try if you all of anger; but I don't mind tbat.
am in love
Mer. Well, friend Ralph, if you are in, Fan. This is a thing the most oddest, ove, no doubt you have some influence over Some folks are so plaguily modest: our mistress; don't you think
Were we in the case,
Ralph revail upon her, and her companions, to
To be in their place,
Fan. upply me with one of their babits, and let (We'd carry it off with a different face. ne go up with them to-day to my lord Giles. Thus I take her by the lily hand, Limworth's ?
So soft and wbite: Ralph. Why, do you want to go a mum- Ralph.
Why now that's right; ning? 1) We never do that here but in the And kiss her too, mon, never stand. Christmas holidays.
What words can explain Mer. No matter; manage this for me, and My pleasure-my pain? hanage it with secrecy, and I promise you Pat. It presses, il rises, hall not go unrewarded.
Giles. My heart it surprises, Ralph. Oh, as for that, sir, I don't look I can't keep it down, though I'd never or any thing: I can easily get you a bundle f their rags; but I don't know whether you'll Fan. So here the play ends, resail on them to go up to my lord's, be
The lovers are friends. ause they are afraid of a big dog that's in Ralph, Hush. ne yard; but I'll tell you what I can do; 1 Fan.
Tush! an go up before you and have the dog fast- Giles.
Nah! ned, for I know his kennel.
Phaw! Mer. That will do very well-By means of All. What torments exceeding, what joys is disguise I shall probably get a sight of
are above, er; and I leave the rest to love and fortune. The pains and the pleasures that wait A I R.
[Exeunt. Why quits the merchant, blest with ease, The pleasures of his native seat,
ACT II. To tempi the dangers of the seas,
Scene 1.-4 marble Portico, ornamented And climes more perilous than these,
with Statues, which opens from LORD 'Midst freezing cold, or scorching heat? AIMWORTA's House; two Chairs near the He knows the hardships, knows the pain,
Enter LORD AIMWORTH, reading. Undaunted, make him combat all. (Exil. the situation I am now in show me to most
Lord A. In how contemptible a light would Scene IV.- The Mill.
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 e flowers in May—and as I was coming tell me I ought to have taken care to make ong, who should 'I meet but your father—-\myself easy long ago, when I had her in my id he bid me run in all baste 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 ad.
again, I should act as I have done. Let's see Pat. I know not what business you had to what' we have bere. Perhaps to my lord's at all, farmer.
compose my thoughts. [Reads, and throws Giles. Nay, I only did as I was desired the Book away] "It's to no purpose; I can't aster Fairfield bid me tell you moreover, as read, I can't think, I can't do any thing. w he would have you go up to my lord, it of hand, and thank him. Ralph. So she ought; and take off those Ah! how vainly mortals treasure othes, and put on what's more becoming Hopes of happiness and pleasure, r station: you know my father spoke to Hard and doubtful to obtain! ju of that this morning, tou.
By what standards false we measure; Pat. Brother, I shall obey my father.
Ways to ruin,
Pat. Now comes the trial: no, my sentence iles. Miss Pat!
is already pronounced, and I will meet my at. What!
fate with prudence and resolution, iles.
Nay, I only spoke. Lord A. Who's there? alph. Take courage, mon, she does but joke. Pat. My lord! Come, suster, somewhat kinder be. Lord A. Patty Fairfield!
Pat. I humbly beg pardon, my lord, for :) The mummers are generally a number of young men
who go about in the country towns, dressed up with pressing 80 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 io thank your mystery in rhyme, sonething about St George and lordship for all the Dragon,-i remember a couple of lines thas:
favours. “I am the bold St. George, the knight,
Lord A. Favours, Patty; what favours? I Go forth with sword and shield to fight." have done you nonc: but why this metamor
phosis? I protest, if you had not spoke, I. Pat. Upon my knees, upon my knees I pra should not have known you; I never saw you it; may every earthly bliss attend you! ma wear such clothes as these' in my mother's your days prove an uninterrupted course a life-time.
delightful tranquillity; and your mutual friend Pat. No, my lord, it was her ladyships ship, confidence, and love, end but with you pleasure I should wear betler, 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 ! suppose you'll wait upon miss Sycamo prospects in life.
before you go away-at present I have a litt Lord A. I am afraid, Patly, you are 100 business-As I said, Patty, don't afflict you humble-come sit down - nay, I will bare it self: I have been somewhat hasty with rega so. [They sit] What is it I have been told to the farmer; but since I see how deeply y to-day, Patty? It seems you are going to be are interested in his affairs, I may possik married.
alter my designs with regard to him – Pat. Yes, my lord.
know-you know, Patty, your marriage wi Lord A. Well, and don't you think you bim is no concern of mine-I only speakcould have made a belter choice than farmer Giles? I should imagine your person, your
A I R. accomplishments, might have entitled you to My passion in vain I attempt to dissemble: look higher.
'Th' endeavour to hide it, but makes it appa Pat. Your lordship is pleased to over-rate Enraplur'd I gaze; when I touch her I trem! my little merit: the education I received in And speak to and hear her with faliri your family does not entitle me to forget my
and fear. origin; and the farmer is my equal. By how many cruel ideas tormented!
Lord A. In what respect? The degrees of My blood's'in a ferment; it freezes, il burs rank and forlune, my dear Pally, are arbitrary This moment I wish, what the next is repente distinctions, unworthy the regard of those who
While love, rage, and jealousy rack me! consider justly; the true standard of equality
[E: is seated in the mind: those who think nobly
Enter Giles. Pat. The farmer, my lord, is a very honest man. Giles. Miss Pat - Odd rabbit it, I thoug
Lord A. So he may: I don't suppose he bis honour was here; and I wish I may would break into a house, or commit a rob- lif my beart did not jump into my mouth bery on the highway: what do you tell me of Come, come down in all hasle; there's such his honesty for?
rig below as you never knew in your ba Pat. I did not mean to offend your lordship. days. There's as good as forty of the tena
Lord A. Offend! I am not offended, Patty: men and maidens, have got' upon the las not at all offended - But is there any great before the castle, with pipers and garland merit in a man's being honest?
just for all the world as tho'f it was My Pat. I don't say there is, my lord. day; and the quality's looking at them out
Lord A. The farmer is an ill-bred, illiterate the windows - 'tis as true as any thing; booby; and what happiness can you propose account of my lord's coming home with to yourself in such a sociely? Then, as to his new lady: person,
I am sure But perhaps, Pally,, you Pat. Well, and what then? like him; and if so, I am doing a wrong thing. Giles. Why I was thinking, if so be Pat. Upon my word, my lord
you would come down, as we might take Lord Å. Nay, I see you do: be has had the dance together: little Sall, farmer Harray good fortune to please you; and in that case daughter, of the green, would fain base i you are certainly in the right to follow your me for a partner; but I said as how 1 inclinations. I must tell you one thing, Patty, for one I liked belter, one that I'd make however--I hope you won't think it unfriendly partner for life. of me-but I am determined farmer Giles shall Pat. Did you say so? not stay, a moment on my estale after next Giles. Yes; and she was struck all of quarter-day.
heap-she had not a word to throw to a Pat. I hope, my lord, he has not incurred for 'Sall and I kept company once your displeasure
little bit. Lord A. That's of no signification. - Could Pat. Farmer, I am going to say some I find as many good qualities in him as you to you, and I' desire you will listen to do, perhaps-But 'tis enough, he's a fellow 1 tentively. It seems you think of our don't like; and as you have a regard for him, married together. I would bave you advise bim to provide Giles. Think! why I think of nothing himself.
it's all over the place, mun, as bow you Pat. My lord, I am very unfortunate.
to be my spouse; and you would not bel Lord A. She loves him, 'tis plain. [Aside] what game folks make of me. Come, Patty, I would not willingly do any Pat. Shall I talk to you like a friend, thing to make you uneasy.
Have you seen mer? – You and I were never designed miss Sycamore yet?- I suppose you know she one another; and I am morally certain and I are going to be married?
should not be bappy. Pat. So I hear, my lord.—Heaven make you Giles. Oh! as for that matter, I never both happy
no words with nobody. Lord A. Thank you, Patty; I hope we shall Pat. Shall I speak plainer to you the be happy
don't like you.