1 Irish. Bless your sweet face, my jewel, Bel. There are twenty coveys within sight and all those who take your part. Bad luck of my house, and the dogs are in fine order. to myself, if I would not, with all the veins Capt. B. The gamekeeper is this moment of my heart, split the dew before your feet leading them round. I am fir'd at the sight. in a morning. [To Belville. Rust. If I do speak a little cross, it's for your honour's good.

[The Reapers cut the Corn, and make it into Sheaves. Rosina follows, and gleans. Rust. [Seeing Rosina] What a dickens does this girl do here? Keep back; wait till the reapers are off the field; do like the other gleaners.

Ros. [Timidly] If I have done wrong, sir, I will put what I have glean'd down again.

[She lets falls the Ears she had gleaned. Bel. How can you be so unfeeling, Rustic? She is lovely, virtuous, and in want. Let fall some ears, that she may glean the more.

Rust. Your honour is too good by half.
Bel. No more: gather up the corn she has
let fall. Do as I command you.
Rust. There, take the whole field, since his

honour chooses it.

AIR.

By dawn to the downs we repair,
With bosoms right jocund and gay,
And gain more than pheasant or hare—
Gain health by the sports of the day.
Mark! mark! to the right hand, prepare-
See Diana!-she points!-see, they rise-
See, they float on the bosom of air!
Fire away! whilst loud echo replies

Fire away!

Hark! the volley resounds to the skies!
Whilst echo in thunder replies!
In thunder replies,

And resounds to the skies,

I

Fire away! Fire away! Fire away! But where is my little rustic charmer? O! there she is: I am transported. [Aside] Pray, 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. It is, and more lovely than ever. [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 no churl of the wheat, whate'er he may be have a dinner prepar'd at the manor-house? of the barley 1). Capt. B. By no means: pray let me be of Bel. [Looking after Rosina] What be- your party: your plan is an admirable one, witching softness! There is a blushing, bash- especially if your girls are handsome. I'll ful gentleness, an almost infantine innocence walk round the field, and meet you at dinner in that lovely countenance, which it is im-time. possible to behold without emotion! She turns this way: What bloom on that check! 'Tis the blushing down of the peach.

[Exeunt Belville and Rustic. Captain Belville goes up to Rosina, gleans a few Ears, and presents them to her; she refuses them, and runs out; he follows her.

Enter WILLIAM, speaking at the side Scene, Will. Lead the dogs back, James; the captain won't shoot to day. [Seeing Rustic and Phabe behind] Indeed, so close! I don't half like it.

Enter RUSTIC and PHOEBE.

Rust. That's a good girl! Do as I bid you, and you shan't want encouragement. [He goes up to the Reapers, and William comes forward.

Will. O no, I dare say she won't. So, Mrs.

Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE, in a Riding-dress. Phobe!
Capt. B. Good morrow, brother; you are
early abroad.

Bel. My dear Charles, I am happy to see you. True, I find, to the first of September2).

Pho. And so, Mr. William, if you go to that!

Will. A new sweetheart, I'll be sworn; 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 Pho. 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 off the ground.

Bel. You know our harvest is late in the north; but you will find all the lands clear'd on the other side the mountain.

Capt. B. And pray, brother, how are the partridges this season?

1) He gives his bread away willingly enough; but he seems to keep his drink all to himscif-Leer being made from malt and hops.

2) The captain is a sportsman, and does not forget the 1st of September, the beginning of the shooting-scason

prayers; but you may find yourself mistaken. Will. You do right to cry out first; you think belike that I did not see you take that posy from Harry.

Pho. And you, belike, that I did not catch you tying up one, of cornflowers and wild roses, for the miller's maid; but I'll be fool'd no longer; I have done with you, Mr. William.

Will. I shan't break my heart, Mrs. Phoebe. The miller's maid loves the ground I walk on.

DUETT.-WILLIAM and PHOEBE.

Will. I've kiss'd and I've prattled to fifty fair

maids,

And chang'd them as oft, d'ye see!
But of all the fair maidens that dance on

the green,

The maid of the mill for me.

Pho. There's fifty young men have told me

fine tales,

And call'd me the fairest she:
But of all the gay wrestlers that sport
on the green,

Young Harry's the lad for me.
Will. Her eyes are as black as the sloe in
the hedge,

Dor. 'Tis very kind.-And old age-
Ros. He'll tell you that himself.

[Goes into the Cottage. Dor. I thought so.-Sure, sure, 'tis no sin to be old.

Capt. B. You must not judge of me by others, honest Dorcas. I am sorry for your misfortunes, and wish to serve you.

Dor. And to what, your honour, may owe this kindness?

Capt. B. You have a charming daughter-
Dor. I thought as much. A vile, wicked
man!
[Aside.
Capt. B. Beauty like hers might find a
thousand resources in London; the moment
she appears there, she will turn every head.
Dor. And is your honour sure her own

Her face like the blossoms in May,
Her teeth are as white as the new-won't turn at the same time?
shorn flock,

Her breath like the new-made hay.
Phoe. He's tall and he's straight as the

poplar tree,

His cheeks are as fresh as the rose;
He looks like a squire of high degree
When drest in his Sunday clothes.
Will. I've kiss'd and I've prattled, etc.
Pho. There's fifty young men, etc.
[Exeunt on different Sides of the Stage.
ROSINA runs across the Stage; CAPTAIN
BELVILLE following her.

Capt. B. Stay and hear me, Rosina. Why I will you fatigue yourself thus? Only homely girls are born to work. Your obstinacy is vain; you shall hear me.

Ros. Why do you stop me, sir? My time is precious. When the gleaning season is over, will you make up my loss?

Capt. B. Yes.

Ros. Will it be any advantage to you to make me lose my day's work?

Capt. B. Yes.

Ros. Would it give you pleasure to see me pass all my days in idleness?

Capt. B. Yes.

Ros. We differ greatly then, sir. I only wish for so much leisure as makes me return to my work with fresh spirit. We labour all the week, 'tis true; but then how sweet is our rest on Sunday!

AIR.

Whilst with village maids I stray,
Sweetly wears the joyous day;
Cheerful glows my artless breast,
Mild content the constant guest.
Capt. B. Mere prejudice, child; you will
know better. I pity you, and will make your

fortune.

Capt. B. She shall live in affluence, and take care of you too, Dorcas.

Dor. I guess your honour's meaning; be you are mistaken, sir. If I must be a troubl to the dear child, I had rather owe my bread to her labour than her shame.

[Goes into the Cottage, and shuts the Door. "Capt. B. These women astonish me; but l won't give it up so.

Enter RUSTIC, crossing the Stage. A word with you, Rustic.

Rust. I am in a great hurry, your honour, am going to hasten dinner.

Capt. B. I shan't keep you a minute. Take these five guineas.

Rust. For whom, sir?

Capt. B. For yourself. And this purse.
Rust. For whom, sir?

Capt. B. For Rosina; they say she is in distress, and wants assistance.

Rust. What pleasure it gives me to see you so charitable! You are just like you

brother.

Capt. B. Prodigiously. Rust. But why give me money, sir? Capt. B. Only to-tell Rosina there is person who is very much interested in he happiness.

Rust. How much you will please his ho nour by this! He takes mightily to Rosina and prefers her to all the young women a the parish.

Capt. B. Prefers her! Ah! you sly rogue
[Laying his Hand on Rustic's Shoulder.
Rust. Your honour's a wag; but I'm sure
I meant no harm.

Capt. B. Give her the money, and tell her she shall never want a friend; but not a word to my brother.

Ros. Let me call my mother, sir: I am young, Rust. All's safe, your honour. [Exit Cap and can support myself by my labour; but she is old and helpless, and your charity will be well bestow'd. Please to transfer to her the bounty you intended for me.

Capt. B. Why—as to that—

Ros. I understand you, sir; your compassion does not extend to old women. Capt. B. Really-I believe not.

Enter DORCAS.

Belville] I don't vastly like this business. the captain's age, this violent charity is a li duberous 1). I am his honour's servant, a it's my duty to hide nothing from him. go seek his honour; O, here he comes. Enter BELVILLE.

Bel. Well, Rustic, have you any inte gence to communicate?

Rust. A vast deal, sir. Your brother be gins to make good use of his money; he hat Ros. You are just come in time, mother. given me these five guineas for myself, I have met with a generous gentleman, whose this purse for Rosina.

Dor. Come, and see; 'tis a purse indeed.
Ros. Heav'ns! 'tis full of gold.

Dor. We must put up a bill at the churchgate, and restore it to the owner. The best way is to carry the money to his honour, and get him to keep it till the owner is found. You shall go with it, love.

Ros. Pray excuse me, I always blush so. Dor. 'Tis nothing but childishness: but his honour will like your bashfulness better than 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. -Yet hope in my situation were madness.

AIR.

Sweet transports, gentle wishes go!

In vain his charms have gain'd my heart;
Since fortune, still to love a foe,
And cruel duty, bid us part.
Ah! why does duty chain the mind,
And part those souls which love has join'd?|
Enter WILLIAM.

Pray, William, do you know of any body
that has lost a purse?

Will. I knows nothing about it.

Ros. Dorcas, however, has found one.
Will. So much the better for she.

If chance some fairing caught her eye,
The riband gay or silken glove,
With eager haste I ran to buy;
For what is gold compar'd to love?
My posy on her bosom plac'd,
Could Harry's sweeter scents exhale!
Her auburn locks my riband grac'd,
And flutter'd in the wanton gale.
With scorn she hears me now complan
Nor can my rustic presents move:
Her heart prefers a richer swain,
And gold, alas! has banish'd love.
Will. [Coming back] Let's part fries.

wish you well.

Ros. You will oblige me very much if you howsomever. Bye1), Phœbe: I shall alw. will carry it to Mr. Belville, and beg him to keep it till the owner is found. Will. Since you desire it, I'll go:

it shan't

be the lighter for my carrying.
Ros. That I am sure of, William.

Enter PHOEBE.

[Exit.

Pha. There's William; but I'll pretend not to see him.

AIR.

Henry cull'd the flow'ret's bloom, Marian lov'd the soft perfume, Had playful kiss'd, but prudence near Whisper'd timely in her ear, Simple Marian, ah! beware; Touch them not, for love is there. Throws away her Nosegay. While she is singing, William turns, looks at her, whistles, and plays with his Stick. Will. That's Harry's posy; the slut likes me still.

Pho. That's a copy of his countenance, I'm sartin; he can no more help following me nor he can be hang'd.

[Aside. William crosses again, singing. Of all the fair maidens that dance on the green, The maid of the mill for me.

Pha. I'm ready to choke wi' madness; but I'll not speak first, an I die for't.

Pho. Bye, William.

[Cries, wiping her Eyes with her Apre Will. My heart begins to melt a [Aside] I lov'd you very well once, Pie but you are grown so cross, and have s vagaries

Pha. I'm sure I never had no vaga with you, William. But go; mayhap h may be angry.

Will. And who cares for she? I minded her anger, nor her coaxing ne till you were cross to me.

Pho. [Holding up her Hands] 0 the ther! I cross to you, William?

Will. Did not you tell me, this very m ing, as how you had done wi' me? Pho. One word's as good as a thous Do you love me, William?

Will. Do I love thee? Do I love da on the green better than thrashing barn? Do I love a wake; or a harvest-be Pho. Then I'll never speak to Harry the longest day I have to live. Will. I'll turn my back o'the miller's the first time I meet her.

Pho. Will you indeed, and indeed? Will. Marry will I; and more nor I'll go speak to the parson this moment

[William sings, throwing up his Stick happier-zooks, I'm happier nor a lord.

and catching it.

Will. Her eyes are as black as the sloe in the hedge,

squire of five hundred a year.

Pho.

Will.

Her face like the blossoms in May. Pho. I can't bear it no longer-you vile, ungrateful, parfidious-But it's no matterI can't think what I could see in you-Harry loves me, and is a thousand times more handsomer. [Sings, sobbing at every Word. Of all the gay wrestlers that spost on the green, Young Harry's the lad for me. Will. He's yonder a reaping: shall I call him? [Offers to go. Both. Pho. My grandmother leads me the life of a dog; and it's all along of you.

Will. Well, then she'll be better temper'd

now.

Pho. I did not value her scolding of a brass farthing, when I thought as how you

were true to me.

Will. Wasn't I true to you? Look in face, and say that.

DUETT. - PHOEBE and WILLIAM.
In gaudy courts, with aching her
The great at fortune rail:
The hills may higher honours clar
But peace is in the vale.
See high-born dames, in rooms of <
With midnight revels pale;
No youth admires their fading chas
For beauty's in the vale,
Amid the shades the virgin's sighs

Add fragrance to the gale:
So they that will may take the hill,

Since love is in the vale.
[Exeunt, Arm in

Enter BELVILLE.
Bel. I tremble at the impression this k
girl has made on my heart. My cheer
my has left me, and I am grown insensible
to the delicious pleasure of making those bëj
who depend on my protection.

AIR.

Ere bright Rosina met my eyes,
How peaceful pass'd the joyous day!

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

In rural sports I gain'd the prize,
Each virgin listen'd to my lay.
But now no more I touch the lyre,
No more the rustic sport can please;
I live the slave of fond desire,
Lost to myself, to mirth, and ease.
The tree that in a happier hour,
It's boughs extended o'er the plain,
When blasted by the lightning's power,

Nor charms the eye, nor shades the swain. I Since the sun rose, I have been in continual exercise; I feel exhausted, and will try to rest a quarter of an hour on this bank.

[Lies down on a Bank by the Fountain. Gleaners pass the Stage, with sheaves of Corn on their Heads; last ROSINA, who comes forward singing.

AIR. ROSINA.

Bel. To what motive do I owe this tender attention?

Ros. Ah, sir! do not the whole village love you?

Bel. You tremble; why are you alarm'd?

DUETT. BELVILLE and ROSINA. Bel. [Taking her Hand] For you, my sweet maid, nay, be not afraid, [Ros. withdraws her Hand. feel an affection which yet wants a name. Ros. When first-but in vain-I seek to explain,

What heart but must love you? I blush, fear, and shame

Bel. Why thus timid, Rosina? still safe by my side,

Let me be your guardian, protector, and guide,
Ros. My timid heart pants-still safe by
your side,

Be you my protector, my guardian, ny guide.
Bel. Why thus timid. etc.

Ros. My timid heart pants, etc.

Light as thistle-down moving, which floats on the air, Sweet gratitude's debt to this cottage I bear: Of autumn's rich store I bring home my part, The 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 What do I see? Mr. Belville asleep? I'll your mind which breaks through the lovely steal softly at this moment I may gaze on simplicity of your deportment, a thousand him without blushing. [Lays down the Corn, circumstances concur to convince me you and walks softly up to him] The sun points were not born a villager.

full on this spot; let me fasten these branches | Ros. To you, sir, I can have no reserve. together with this riband, and shade him from A pride, I hope an honest one, made me its beams-yes-that will do-But if he should wish to sigh in secret over my misfortunes. wake-[Takes the Riband from her Bosom, Bel. [Eagerly] They are at an end. and ties the Branches together] How my Ros. Dorcas approaches, sir! she can best heart beats! One look more— Ah! I have relate my melancholy story.

wak'd him.

[She flies, and endeavours to hide her-
self against the Door of the Cottage,
turning her Head every instant.
Bel. What noise was that?

[Half raising himself.
Ros. He is angry-How unhappy I am!-
How I tremble!
[Aside.

Bel. This riband I have seen before, and on the lovely Rosina's bosom

Enter DORCAS.

Dor. His honour here? Good lack! How sorry I am I happen'd to be from home. Troth, I'm sadly tir'd.

Bel. Will you let me speak with you a moment alone, Dorcas?

Dor. Rosina, take this basket.

[Exit Rosina, with the Basket. 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 situasina, opening the Door, sees Capt. Belville, tion.

and 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 mofrom 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, estate was seiz'd for a mortgage 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 thus, Rosina? What tion. can you fear? You are out of breath.

Bel. And her father?

mar

Ros. O, sir!-my strength fails-[Leans Dor. Was a brave gentleman too, a coloon Belville, who supports her in his Arms] nel. His honour went to the Eastern Indies, Where is he?-A gentleman pursued me- to better his fortune, and madam would go [Looking round. with him. The ship was lost, and they, with Bel. Don't be alarm'd, 'twas my brother-all the little means they had, went to the he could not mean to offend you. bottom. Young madam Rosina was their onRos. Your brother! Why then does he ly child; they left her at school; but when not imitate your virtues? Why was he here? this 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 morsel. ance, have I not seen you wear this riband? Ros. Forgive me, sir; I did not mean to disturb you. I only meant to shade you from the too great heat of the sun.

of

Bel. But her father's name?

Dor. Martin; colonel Martin.

Bel. I am too happy; he was the friend my father's heart: a thousand times have