With scorn she hears me now complain, And gold, alas! has banish'd love. 'Will. I see Kate waiting for me. Bye, Phoebe.' Pho. Good bye to you.' Will. [Coming back.] Let's part friendly, howsomever. Bye, Phoebe: I shall always wish Pho. Bye, William. you well. [Cries, wiping her eyes with her apron. Will. [Aside.] My heart begins to melt a little[aloud.] I lov'd you very well once, Phœbe; but you are grown so cross, and have such vagaries— Phoe. I'm sure I never had no vagaries with you, William. But go, mayhap Kate may be angry. Will. And who cares for she? I never minded her anger, nor her coaxing neither, till you were cross to me. Pho. [Holding up her hands.] I cross to you, William ? Will. Did not you tell me this very morning as how had done wi' me? you Pho. One word's as good as a thousand. Do you love me, William ? the Will. Do I love thee? do I love dancing on green better than thrashing in the barn? do I love a wake? a harvest-home? Pho. Then I'll never speak to Harry again the longest day I have to live. Will. I'll turn my back o' the miller's maid the first time I meet her. Pho. Will you indeed, and indeed? Will. Indeed and indeed, I will; and more nor that, I'll go speak to the parson this moment-I'm happier→ this instant-I'm happier nor a lord nor a 'squire of five hundred a year. Pho. Why dost talk of Lords and 'squires, William? we poor folks are happier by far, if so be we are but content. Did not the parson bid us mind how the storm bow'd the great trees on the hills, whilst the little shrubs in the valley ne'er bent a head for the matter? Will. Thou say'st true, Phœbe. AIR. Duet. Pha. In gaudy courts, with aching hearts, The hills may higher honours claim, Will. See high-born dames, in rooms of state, No youth admires their fading charms, Both. Amid the shudes of * virgin's sighs So they that will may take the hill, Since love is in the vale. [Exeunt arm-in-arm. Enter BELVILLE. Bel. I tremble at the impression this lovely girl has made on my heart.† My cheerfulness has left me, and I am grown insensible, even to the delicious pleasure of making those happy who depend on my protection.‡ 66 * So it is in all the copies I have seen. Perhaps the author wrote a virgin's sighs." + +"That very Moment Love and chaste Desire "For still the World prevail'd, and its dread Laugb, Autumn, 1. 235. "Felicity is the daughter of beneficence: and he who makes his neighbour happy, is always, himself the happier man of the 4 two. There is a more heartfelt satisfaction, a more solid comfort, a more lively and lasting joy in bestowing, than there can be in accepting relief. It is more blessed to give than to receive." A "nobler maxim, surely, was never propounded, to influence the "conduct of the human race. Were the experiment universally 66 made, it would universally succeed; the unequal distribution of "Heaven's favours would no longer be complained of; the days of Eden would return upon earth; and the next life begin in this." Bp. Horne's Sermon intitled The Good Steward. AIR. Ere bright Rosina met my eyes, But now no more I touch the lyre, Lost to myself, to mirth and ease. The tree that in a happier hour, It's boughs extended o'er the plain, Enter WILLIAM. ['He speaks between the scenes. 'Will. Here's his honour, Phoebe; wait for me at the stile. [bowing.] Please your honour, I am sent 'to tell you Dorcas and Rosina have found a purse. Bel. Does any body claim it? Will. No, Sir. 'Bel. Let them keep it, William. Will. But they charged me, please your honour, to 6 give it to you. so; Bel. Go, William, and carry it back. Will. [Aside.] He put it there himself: I thought 'tis so like him. I shall, your honour. ['Exit William.' Bel. 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. Light as thistledown moving which floats on the air,* What do I see? Mr. Belville asleep? I'll steal softly —I may take a moment's look at him, without cause for blushing. [Lays down the corn, and walks softly up towards him.] The sun points full on this spot; let me fasten these branches together with this ribbon, and shade him from its beams-yes-that will do-but if he should wake [Takes the ribbon from her bosom, and ties the branches together.] How my heart beats! ah! I have waked him [She flies, and endeavours to hide herself 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!' Bel. This ribbon I have seen before, and on the lovely Rosina's bosom— [He rises, and goes towards the cottage. Ros. I will hide myself in the house. [Rosina opening the door, sees Capt. Belville, and starts back. Ha! a man in the house! Capt. B. Now, love assist me! Comes out, and seizes Rosina; she breaks from him, and runs affrighted cross the stage-Bel This image was probably suggested by Isaiah XVII. 13. which Bishop Lowth translates, "And they shall be driven like the chaff of the hills before the wind, And like the gossimer before the whirlwind." But Dr. Blair in his Lectures, (Lect XLI. On The Poetry of The Hebrews, Vol. 1. p. 190.) translates it they shall be chased as "the chaff of the mountain before the wind, and like the down of the thistle before the whirlwind." See also Bp. Horne, on Psalm LXXXIII. 13. ville follows; Capt. Belville, who comes out to pursue her, sees his brother, and steals off at the other scene.Belville leads Rosina back. Bel. Why do you fly thus, Rosina? what can you fear? you are out of breath.' Ros. O, sir! my strength fails [Leans on Belville, who supports her in his arms. Where is he?—a gentleman pursued me— [Looking round. Bel. Don't be alarmed, 'twas my brother-he could not mean to offend you. Ros. Your brother? why then does he not imitate your virtues? why was he here? Bel. Forget this; you are safe. But tell me, Rosina, for the question is to me of importance; have I not seen you wear this ribbon ? 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. Bel. To what motive do I owe this tender attention? Ros. Ah, sir! do not the whole village love you? Bel. At this moment, Rosina, think me a brother; or a friend a thousand times more affectionate than a 'brother. You tremble! why are you alarmed? DUET. BELVILLE and ROSINA BELVILLE, [taking her hand.] For you, my sweet maid, nay be not afraid, [Rosina withdraws her hand. I feel an affection which yet wants a name. ROSINA. When first-but in vain-I seek to explain, and shame BELVILLE Why thus timid, Rosina? still safe by my side, |