Her teeth are as white as the new-shorn flock,* Phoe. He's tall, and he's strait as the poplar tree, Phoe. There's fifty young men, &c. [Go off on different sides of the stage. [As they go off, Rosina runs across the stage, Capt. Belville following her. Capt. B. Stay, and hear me, Rosina. Why 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 *Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, "which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, "and none is barren among them." Song of Solomon, IV.2. Thy pearly teeth are like a new-shorn flock Or drooping on the plain, or on the white wave tost. See Mrs. FRANCIS's Poetical Translation of the Song of Solomon, 4to. 1781, p. 42. In which this beautiful Poem is arranged as a Drama, as it is supposed originally to have been. spirit. We labour all the week 'tis true; but then how sweet is our rest on Sunday !* AIR. Whilst with village maids I stray, Capt. B. Mere prejudice, child: you will know better. I pity you, and will make your fortune. Ros. Let me call my mother, Sir. I am young, and can support myself by my labour; but she is old and helpless, and your charity will be well bestowed. 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. Ros. You are just come in time, mother. I have *The Village Sabbath always appears to me to have a peculiar charm. There is a sober cheerfulness in it, which the sabbath in a town always seems to want, and I attribute it to this reason, that in a town the shops, which are generally a large proportion of the fronts of the principal streets, being shut up, give it a gloomy appearance; whereas, in a village, there being few shops, there is Jess difference in that respect; and the cessation from labour, and the inhabitants being dressed neat, and in their best clothes, gives a festive appearance to the day. Poets seem greatly to participate in this pleasure. Mr. Coleridge says of Domestic Peace, in the Song, in his Tragedy of The Fall of Robespiere, "In a cottag'd vale she dwells, Cowper makes it one of the circumstances of regret to Alexander Selkirk, during his solitary abode in the island of Juan Fernandez: the sound of the church-going bell These vallies and rocks never heard, Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell, Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd. See also Grahame's Poem of The Sabbath, and Cockin's Rural Sabbath. met with a generous gentleman, whose charity inclines him to succour youth. very kind. And old age Dor. 'Tis [Rosina goes into the cottage. Dor. I thought so.-Sure, sure, 'tis no sin to bə 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 I owe this kindness? Capt. B. You have a charming daughter Dor. [Aside.] I thought as much. A vile, wicked man! Capt. B. Beauty like her's 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 won't turn at the same time? Capt. B. She shall live in affluence, and take care of you too, Dorcas. Dor. I guess your honour's meaning; but you are mistaken, Sir. If I must be a trouble to the dear child, I shall 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 I won't give it up so. AIR. "From flower to flower gay roving, Does nature's charms descry, • On wavy wings high mounting, If chance some child pursues, Thus wild and ever changing, "I mock the whining sigh: Capt. B. A word with you, Rustie. Rus. I'm in a great hurry, your honour: I am going to hasten dinner. Capt. B. I shan't keep you a minute. Take these five guineas. Rus. For whom, Sir? Capt, B. For yourself. And this purse. Rus. For whom, Sir? Capt. B. For Rosina: they say she is in distress, and wants assistance. Rus. What pleasure it gives me to see you so charitable! you are just like your brother. Capt. B. Prodigiously. Rus. But why give me money, Sir; Capt. B. Only to-tell Rosina there is a person who is very much interested in her happiness. Rus. How much you will please his honour by this! he takes mightily to Rosina, and prefers her to all the young women in the parish. Capt. B. Prefers her? ah! you sly rogue ! [Laying his hand on Rustic's shoulder, Rus. 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. [Exit. Rus. I don't vastly like this business. This violent charity of the captain's is a little duberous. I am his honour's servant, and it's my duty to hide nothing from him. I'll go seek his honour; oh, here he comes. Enter BELVILLE. 2 Bel. Well, Rustic, have you any intelligence to communicate? Rus. A vast deal, Sir. Your brother begins to make a good use of his money: he has given me these five guineas for myself, and this purse for Rosina. Bel. For Rosina! [Aside.] 'tis plain he loves her! obey him exactly; but as distress renders the mind haughty, and Rosina's situation requires the utmost delicacy, contrive to execute your commission in such a manner that she may not even suspect from whence the money comes. Rus. I understand your honour. Bel. Have you gained any intelligence in respect to Rosina? Rus. I endeavoured to get all I could from the old woman's grand-daughter; but all she knew was, that she was no kin to Dorcas, and that she had had a good bringing up: but here are the labourers. Bel. Let the cloth be laid on these sheaves. Behold the table of happiness!' but I don't see Rosina. Dorcas you must come too, and Phoebe. Dor. We can't deny your honour. Ros. I am ashamed; but you command, Sir. Enter the REAPERS, following Capt. BELVILLE. Bel. By this fountain's flow'ry side, Let us share the festive day. Ros. & Bel. Taste our pleasures, ye who may, This is Nuture's holiday. Simple Nature ye who prize, Chorus. Taste our pleasures, ye who may, VOL. II. |