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angry – I'm
I heard him lament bis fate. Rosina's virtues offended almost past forgiveness. Will the shall not go unrewarded.
offer of my band repair the injury? Dor. Yes, I know'd it would be so. Hea- Bel. If Rosina accepts it, I am satisfied. ven never forsakes the good man's children. Ros. [To Belville) Will you, sir, suffer?
Bel. I have another question to ask you, - This hope is a second insult. Whoever Dorcas, and answer my sincerely, is her heart offends the object of his love is unworthy of free?
obtaining her. Dor. To be sure, she never would let any Bel. l'his noble refusal paints your characof our young men come a near her; and yet-ter. I know another, Rosina, who loves you Bel. Speak: I am on the rack.
with as strong, though purer ardour :—but i Dor. I'm aseard-she mopes and she pines allowed to hopeBut your honour would be
Ros. Do not, sir, envy me the calm deafeard the captain
light of passing my independent days with Bel. Then my foreboding heart was right. Dorcas; in whom I have found a mother's
[ Aside. tenderness.
Dor. Bless thee, my child; thy kindness Enter Rustic.
melts iny heart. Rust. Ilclp, for heaven's sake, sir! Rosi- Bel. Do you refuse me too then, Rosina? na's lost-she is carried away
[Rosina raises her Eyes tenderly on BelBel. Rosina!
ville, lowers them again, and leans on
Dor. You, sir? You ?
Bel. Then I am happy! My life! my Rosida! Bel. With me, sir-I will not lose sight Phæ. Do you speak io his honour, William of you. Rustic, hasten instantly with Will. No; do you speak, Phæbe. reapers. Porcas, you will be our guide. [Exit. Phæ. I am asham'd-William and I, your
Rust. Don't be frightened, sir; the Irishmen honour-William pray'd me lo let him keep have rescued her: she is just here. [Exit. me company-so he gain'd my good will
have him; if so be my grandmother consents. Enter the Two Irishmen.
[Courtesying, and playing with her Apron 1 Irish. [To Dorcas Dry your tears, my Will
. If your honour would be so good to jewel; we have done for them.
speak to Dorcas. Dor. Have you sa’v'd her? I owe you more Bel. Dorcas, you must not refuse me any than life.
thing to-day. I'll give William a farm. 1 Irish. Faith, good wornar, you owe me Dor Your honour is too kind – take her, nothing at all. ll tell your honour how it William, and make her a good husband. was. My comrades and I were crossing the Will. That I will, dame. meadow, going home, when we saw them Will. Phæ. [To Belville] Thank your bufirst; and hearing a woman cry, I look'd up, nour. and saw them putting her into a skiff against Beloille joins their Hands, they box and her will. Says I, “Paddy, is not that the courtesey. clever little crater that was glaning in the Will. What must I do with the purse, field with us this morning?"_“Tis so, sure your honour? Dorcas would not take it. enough,” says he. — “By St. Patrick,” says !, Bel. I believe my brother has the best right. “ there's enough of us to rescute 1) her.” With Capt. B. 'Tis yours, William; dispose of that we ran for the bare life, waded up to as you please. the knees, laid about us bravely with our Will. Then I'll give it to our honest Irishshillelays 2), knock'd them out of the skiff, men, who fought so bravely for our Rosina. and brought her back safe: and here she co- Del. You have made good use of it, Wir mes, my jewel.
liam; nor shall my gratitude stop bere.
Capt. B. Allow me to retire, brother. When Re-enter Rustic, leading Rosina, who throws I am worthy of your esteem, I will retura, herself into Dorcas's Arms.
and demand my rights in your affection. Dor. I canno' speak-Art thou safe? Bel. You must not leave us, brother. ReBel. I dread to find the criminal.
sume the race of honour; be indeed a sota Rust. Your borour need not go far a field, dier, and be more than my brother-be my I believe; it must have been some friend of friend. the captain's, for his French valet cominanded
FINALE. Capt. B. I confess my crime; my passion for Rosina hurried me out of myself.
To bless, and to be blest, be ours, Bel. You have dishonour'd me, dishonour'd
Whate'er our rank, whate'er oer
Be. the glorious profession you have embrac'd
powers, But he gone, I renounce you as my brother, Capt. B. son some her gifts kind fortune and renounce my ill-plac'd friendship.
showers, Cupt. B. Your indignation is just; I have
Who reap, like us, in this rich cest
Capt. B. Yet those who taste ber bounty less 1) Rescuc.
The sigh malevolent repress, 2) Oak-sticks, -- The Irish are famous for the use of the
And loud the feeling bosom blesi, stick; it is generally a piece of oak, and the regular sixe is as big round as their wrist, and the exact length
Which something leaves for want
761 Ros. How blest am 1, supremely blest!
The hearts you glad your own display, Since Belville all bis soul exprest,
The hear'ns such goodness must repay; And fondly clasp'd me to his breast: Rust. And blest through many a summer's day, I now may reap - how chang'd the Dor. Full crops you'll reap in this rich scene; scene!
Will. And O! when summer's joys are o'er,
Phoe. And autumn yields its fruits no more,
New blessings be there yet in store,
For winter's sober hours to glean. Soft pity taught his soul to say, "Unfeeling Rustic, let her glean!" Cho. And O! when summer's joys are o'er, etc.
LOVE IN A VILLAGE,
Comic Opera, by Isaak Bickerstall. Acted 1762, at Covent Garden. This performance, though compiled from Charles Johnson's Village Opera, Wycherley's Gentlemun Dancing-Master, Marivaux's Jeu de l'Amour et du Hazard, and other musical pieces, yel met with so much favour from the town, that it was acted the first season almost as many times as The Beggur's Opera had formerly been, and nearly with as much success. It certainly has the meril of being inoffensive in its tendency, probable in iis incidents, spiriled in its action, agreeable for its ease and regularity, and natural in the delicealion of character,
For shame, you a lover! Scene I.-A Garden, with Statues, Foun
More firmness discover; tains, and Flower-pots.
Take courage, nor here longer mope;
Resist and be free,
Run riot, like me,
And, to perfect the picture, elope.
Luc. And is this your advice?
Ros. Positively. Ros. Hope! thou nurse of young desire, Luc. Here's my hand; positively I'll follow Fairy promiser of joy,
it-I have already sent to my gentleman, who Painted vapour, glowworm fire, is now in the country, to let him know he
Temp'raie sweet, that ne'er can cloy: may come hither this day; we will make use Luc. Hope! thou earnest of delight,
of the opportunity to settle all preliminaries
And then-But take notice, whenever we de-
camp, you march off along with us.
Ros. Oh! madam, your servant; I have no Surest friend the wretched find:
inclination to be left behind, I assure you-Both. Kind deceiver, flatter still,
But you say you got acquainted with this Deal out pleasures unpossest; spark, while you were with your mother during Wirb thy dreams my fancy fill, her last illness at Bath, so that your father
And in wishes make me blest. has never seen him. Luc. Heigho!-Roselta!
Luc. Never in his life, my dear; and, I am Ros. Well, child, what do you say ? confident, he entertains not the least suspicion
Luc. 'Tis á sad thing to live in a village a of my having any such connexion: my aunt, hundred miles from the capital, with a pre- indeed, has ber doubts and surmises; but, beposterous gouty father, and a superannuated sides that my father will not allow any one Inaiden aunt.-I am heartily sick of my situation. to be wiser than himself, it is an established
Ros. And with reason-But 'tis in a great maxim between these affectionate relations, raeasure your own fault: here is this Mr. never to agree in any thing. Eustace, a man of character and family; he Ros. Except being absord; you must allow likes you, you like him: you know one ano- they sympathize perfectly in that - But, now ther's minds, and yet you will not resolve to we are on the subject, I desire to know what make yourself happy with him.
I am to do with this wicked old justice of peace, this father of yours? He follows me
about the house like a tame goat. Whence can you inherit
Luc. Nay, I'll assure you he hath been a So slavish a spirit?
wag in his time - you must bave a care of Confin'd thus, and chain'd to a log!
yourself. Now fondled, now chid,
Ros. Wretched me! to fall into such bands, Permitted, forbid:
who have been just forced to run away from Tis leading the life of a dog.
my parents to avoid an odious marriage
A 1 R.
You smile at that now; and I know you think Ros. Indeed, Lucinda, you are very silly
Ros. Blush! I am sure I don't blush.
Ros. Pshaw! Lucinda, how can you be so
Luc. Well, don't be angry, and I have doneNo mortal "an shall wed with me,
But suppose you did like him, how could you Till first he's made my choice.
help yourself? [Exeunt into an Arbou", Let parents rule, cry nature's laws, And children still obey;
Enter young MEADOWS. And is there then no 'saving clause,
Young M. Let me see-on the fifteenth Against tyrannic sway?
June, at balf an hour past live in the morning, Luc. Well, but my dear, mad girl- [Taking out a Pocket-book] I left my father's
Ros. Lucinda, don't talk to me-Was your house unknown to any one, having made free father to go to London; meet tbere by acci- with a coat and jacket of our gardener's the dent with an old fellow as wrong-headed as fitted me, by way of a disguise; so says may himself; and, in a fit of absord friendship, pocket-book: and chance directing me to this agree to marry you to that old fellow's son, village, on the twentieth of the same moms whom
you had never seen, without consulting procured a recommendation to the worshipyour inclinations, or allowing you a negative, ful justice Woodcock, to be the superintenda: in case he should not prove agreeable - of his pumpkins and cabbages, because I woed
Luc. Why I should think it a little hard, let my father see, I chose to run any lengths I confess-yel, when I see you in the charac- rather than submit to what his obstinacy work ter of a chambermaid
hare forced me, a marriage against any isRos. Is is the only character, my dear, in clination, with a wornan 1 Bever saw. (Pus which I could hope to lie concealed; and, I up the Book, and takes up a Watering can tell you, I was reduced to the last ex. pot] Here I have been three weeks, and is tremity, when, in consequence of our old that time I am as much allered as if I ba? boarding school friendship, '1 applied to you to changed my nalure with my habit.—'Sdeat., receive me in ibis capacity; for we expected to fall in love with a chambermaid: Andres the parties the very next week.
if I could forget that I am the son and be: Luc. But had not you a message from your of Sir William Meadows. But that's impossibk. intended spouse,
know he was as little inclined to such ill-concerted nuptials as
0! had I been by fate decreed Ros. More than so; he wrote to advise me, Some bumble cottage swain; by all means, to contrive some method of In fair Rosetta's sight to feed breaking them oll; for he had rather return My sheep upon the plain; to his dear studies at Oxford: and, after that, What bliss had I been born to taste, what hopes could I bave of being happy with Which now I ne'er must know! bim?
Ye envious powers! why hare ye placid Luc. Then you are not at all uneasy at the My fair one's lot so low? strange rout you must have occasioned at Ila! who was it I had a glimpse of as I pawid home? I warrant, during this month you have by that arbour? Was it not 'she sat reading been absent
there? the trembling of my heart :ells me o Ros. Oh! don't mention it, my dear; I have eyes were not inistaken-ficre she comes. had so many admirers, since I commenced
[Retires. Rosetta comes doan Abigail ?), that I am quite charmed with my
from the Arbour. situation-But hold, who stalks yonder in the Rosi Lucinda' was certainly in the right of yard, that the dogs are so glad to sce? it; and yet I blush to own my weakness even
Luc. Daddy Hawthorn, as I live! He is 10 myself -- Marry, hang thc fellow for come to pay my father a visit; and never being a gentleman. more luckily, for he always forces him abroad. Young M. I am determined I won't speak By the way, what will you do with yourself to her. [Turning to a Rose-tree, and plucking while I step into the house to sce alter my the Flowers] Now or never is the time to trusty messenger, Hodge?
conquer myself: besides, I have some reasoa Rós. No maller; I'll sit down in that arbour, to believe ibe girl bas no arersion to me and and listen to the singing of the birds: you as I wish not io do her an injury, it would know I am fond of melancholy amusements. be cruel to fill her head with notions of what
Luc. So it seems, indeed: 'sure, Rosetla, can never happen. [Hums a Tune) Pshaw none of your admirers bad power to touch rot these roses, bow they prick one's fingers! your heart; you are not in love, I hope ?
Ros. In love! that's pleasant: who do you much the better; i'll be as indifferent as be! suppose
I should be in love with, pray? Luc. Why, let me see- - What do you think I was to give him any encouragement, I sup.
is. I am sure the poor lad likes me; and if of Thomas, our gardener? There he is at the pose the next thing he talked of would be other end of the walk – Fle's a pretty young buying a ring, and being asked in churches man, and the servants say, he's always writing OK, dear pride, I thank you for that thought, verses on yo'l.
Young M. Hah, going without a word! a 1) Servant-maid,
look! I can't bear that --Mrs. Rosetta, am
gathering a few roses here, if you please to Haw. Am I here? Yes: and, if
had Lake them in with you.
been where I was three hours ago, you would Ros. Thank you, Mr. Thomas, but all my find the good effects of it by this time: but lady's flower-pots are full.
you have got the lazy, unwholesome, London Young M. Will you accept of them for fashion of lying abed in a morning, and there's yourself, then? [Catching hold of her] What's gout for you—Why, sir, I have not been in ibe matter? you look as if you were angry bed five minutes after sunrise these thirty with me.
years, am generally up, before it; and I never Ros. Pray let go my hand.
took a dose of physic but once in my life, and Young M. Nay, prythee, why is this? you that was in compliment to a cousin of mine, sban't
8°, I have something to say you, an apothecary, that had just set up business. Ros. Well, but I must go, I will go;
Jus. W. Well but, masler Hawthorn, let sire, Mr. Thomas
me tell you, you know nothing of the matter; for, I say, sleep is necessary for a man; ay,
and I'll maintain it. Gentle youth, ah, tell me why
Haw. What, when I maintain the conStill you force me thus to fly?
trary?-Look you, neighbour Woodcock, you Cease, oh! cease to persevere;
are a rich man, a man of worship, a justice of Speak not what I must not hear;
and all that; but learn to know the To my heart its ease restore;
respect that is due to the sound from the inGo, and never see me more. [Erit. firm; and allow me that superiority a good Young M. This girl is a riddle – That she constitution gives me over you-Health is the Joves me I think there is no room to doubt; greatest of all possessions; and 'lis a maxim she takes a thousand oppo, unities to let me with me, that a bale cobler is a better man see it: and yet, when I speak to her, she will than a sick king: hardly give me an answer; and, if I allempt Jus. W. Well, well, you are a sportsman. the smallest familiarity, is gone in an instant Haw. And so would you be too, if you I feel my passion for her grow every day would take my advice. A sportsman! why more and more violent, Well, would I marry there is nothing like it: I would not exchange ber? — would I make a mistress of her if I the satisfaction I feel, while I am beating the could? — Two things, called prudence and lawns and thickets about my little farm, for honour, forbid either. What am I pursuing; all the entertainment and pageantry in Christthen? A shadow. Sure my evil genius laid endom. this snare in my way. However, there is one
AIR, comfort, it is in my power to fly from it; if Let gay ones and great, so, why do I besilate? I am distracted, unable
Make ihe most of iheir fale, to determine any thing.
From pleasure to pleasure they run;
Well, who cares a jot,
I envy them not,
While I have my dog and my gun.
l'or exercise, air, And the next my oath deny.
To the fields I repair,
The blisses I find,
No stings leave behind, And confess myself a slave. [Exit.
But health and diversion unite.
Hodge. Did your worship, call, sir?
his Hands, and a Net with Birds al his rest of these rascals been? but I suppose I Girdle.
need not ask – You must know there is a
statule, a fair for hiring servants, held upon There was a jolly miller once,
my green to-day; we have it usually at this Liv'd on the river Dee;
season of the year, and it never fails to put He work'd and sung from morn till night; all the folks hereabout out of their senses. No lark more blithe than be.
Hodge. Lord, your honour, look out, and And this the burthen of his song,
see what a nice show they make yonder; they For ever us'd to be
had got pipers, and fiddlers, and were dancing I care for nobody, not I,
as I came along, for dear life - I never saw If no one cares for me.
such a mortal throng in our village in all my House, here, house! what all gadding, all born days again. abroad! house, I say, billi-ho, ho!
Haw. Why, I like this now, this is as it Jus. W. [Wilhoul] Here's a noise, here's should be. a racket! William, Robert, Hodge! why does Jus. W. No, no, 'tis a very foolish piece of not somebody answer? Odds my life, I believe business; good for nothing but to promote the fellows have lost their hearing!
idleness and the getting of bastards: but I shall
take measures for preventing it another year, Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK.
and I doubt whether I am not sufficiently Ob, master Hawthorn! I guessed it was some authorized already; for by an act passed Auno such madcap-Are you there?
undecimo Caroli primi, which empowers a
A I R.
da Haw. Come, come, never mind the act; let
[Reads the Letter to herset. you, this is a very proper, a very use- Hodge. Lord a inercy! how my arm acha ful meeting; I want a servant or to myself, with beating that plaguy beast: I'll be bang'd I must go see what your market fords ;- if I won'na ratber ha' thrash'd balf a daj, and you
shall go, and the girls, my little Lucy than ha' ridden ber. and ibe other young rogue, and we'll make a Luc. Well, Hodge, you have done for day on't as well as the rest.
business very well. Jus. W. I wish, master Hawthorn, I could Hodge. Well, have not I now? teach you to be a little more sedate: why Luc. Yes-Mr. Eustace tells me in this leta, won't you take pattern by me, and consider that he will be in the green lane, at the other your dignity? - Odds heart, I don't wonder end of the village, by twelve o'clock – You you are not a rich man; you laugh too much know where he came before. ever to be rich.
Hodge. Ay, ay. Haw. Right, neighbour Woodcock! health, Luc. Well, you must go there; and 2 good humour, and competence, is my motto: till he arrives, and watch your opportunity to and, if my executors have a mind, they are introduce him, across the fields, into the lite welcome to make it my epitaph.
summer-house, on the left side of the garden.
Hodge. That's enough. The honest heart, whose thoughts are clear
Luc. But take particular care that nobody
sees you. From fraud, disguise, and guile, Need neither fortune's frowning fear,
Hódge. I warrant you. Nor court the harlot's smile.
Luc. Nor for your life drop a word of :
to any mortal.
Luc. And, Hodge-
Well, well, say no more;
Sure you told me before;
I see the full length of my tether; Hodge. Who calls ? here am I.
Do you think I'm a fool, Luc. Well, have you been?
Thai I nced go to school? Hodge. Been, ay, I ha' been far enough, I can spell you and put you together. an that be all: you never knew any thing fall
A word to the wise, out so crossly in your born days. Luc. Why, wbat's the matter?
Will always suffice; Hodge. Why you know, I dare not take a
Addsniggers, go talk to your parrot;
I'm not such an elf, horse out of his worship's stables this morning, for fear it should be missed, and breed ques
Though I say it myself, tions; and our old nag at home was so cruelly
But I know a sheep's head from a carrot.
[EN beat i'th' hoofs, that, poor beast, it bad not a foot to set to ground; so I was fain to go to Luc. How severe is my case! Here I am farmer Ploughshare's, at the Grange, to bor- obliged to carry on a clandestine correspondence row the loan of his bald filly; and, would you with a man in all respects my equal, because think it? after walking all that way—de'el from the oddity of my father's temper is such, tba me, if the crossgrained toad did not deny me I dare not tell him I have ever yet seen the the favour,
person I should like to marry But perbasi Luc. Unlucky!
he bas quality in his eye, and hopes, one das Hodge. Well, then I went my ways to the or other, as I am his only child, to match me King'sbead in the village, but all their cattle with a tille-vain imagination! were al plough: and I was as far to seek below at the furnpike: so at last, for want of
A I R. a better, I was forced to take up with dame Cupid, god of soft persuasion, Quicksei's blind mare.
Take the helpless lover's part: Luc. Oh, then you have been?
Seize, oh scize some kind occasion,
To reward a faithful heart.
Who the body would enthral; some jaunt on't, for she is a sorry jade at best.
Tyrants of more cruel kind, Luc. Well, well, did you see Mr. Eustace,
Those, who would enslave the mind. and what did he say to you?-Come, quick- What is grandeur ? foe to rest, have you e'er a leter?
Childish mummery at best. Hodge. Yes, be gave me a letter, if I ha'na' Happy I in humble stale; lost it.
Caich, ye fools, the glittering bait. Luc. Lost it, man! Hodge. Nay, nay, have a bit of patience: Scene III. A Field with a Stile. adwawns, you are always in such a hurry [Rummaging his Pockets] I put it somc
Enter Hodge, followed by MADGE where in this waiscoal pocket. On, here lodge. What does the wench follow me it is.
for? Odds flesh, folk may well talk, to see you