1 Irish. [To Dorcas.] Dry your tears, my jewel; we have done for them.

Dor. Have you saved her? I owe you more than life.

1 Irish. Indade, good woman, you owe me nothing at all. I'll tell your honour how it was. My comrades and I were crossing the meadow, going home, when we saw them first; and hearing a woman cry, I looked up, and saw them putting her into a skiff against her will. Says I, Paddy, Is not that the clever little crater that was glaning in the field with us this morning ?. 'Tis so, sure enough, says he. Says I, There's enough of us to rescute her. With that we ran for the bare life,* waded up to the knees, laid about us bravely with our shillelays, knocked them out of the skiff, and brought her back safe: and here she comes, my jewel.

[4 Boat appears, ROSINA lands, is followed by the Reupers, and throws herself into Dorcas's

arms.

Dor. I canno' speak-art thou safe?

Bel. I dread to find the criminal.

Rus. Your honour need not go far afield, I believe; it must have been some friend of the captain's, for his French valet commanded the party.

Capt. B. I confess my crime; my passion for Rosina hurried me out of myself.

Bel. Was my house, sir, chosen for the scene of 'your ungoverned licentiousness?" You have dishonoured me, dishonoured the glorious profession you have embraced. But be gone, I renounce you as my brother, and resume my ill-placed friendship.

Capt. B. Your indignation is just; I have offended almost past forgiveness. Will the offer of my hand repair the injury

Bel. If Rosina accepts it, I am satisfied.

( Capt B. What I have done, Rosina, was the effect of a too-tender love. Ought you to punish it? accept my hand.'

I think that the phrase is dear life.

Ros. [To Bel.] Will you, sir, suffer?-this hope is a second insult. Whoever offends the object of his love, is unworthy of obtaining her.

Bel. This noble refusal paints your character. I know another, Rosina, who loves with as strong, though purer ardor: the timidity inseparable from real love has hitherto prevented his declaring himself-but if allowed to hope

Ros. Do not, sir, envy me the calm delight of passing my independent days with Dorcas, in whom I have found a mother's tenderness.

Dor. Bless thee, my child; thy kindness melts my heart-but you must marry.

Ros. Never, till affection points out the object; to sensible minds, marriage must be a source of exquisite happiness or misery.

Bel. Do you refuse me too, then, Rosina?

[Rosina raises her eyes tenderly on Belville, lowers. them again, and leans on Dorcas. Dor. You, sir? you? sure I am in a dream !’ Capt. B. What do I hear?

Bel. Rosina, may I hope?'

Ros. My confusion-my blushes

'Bel. "Tis enough; I see I am rejected.'

Ros. 'Tis the first time in your life, I believe, that

you ever were mistaken.'

[Giving her hand timidly to Belville. Bel. Then I am happy:' my life! my Rosina!

AIR.

"How blest, my fair, who on thy face,
Uncheck'd by fear, may fondly gaze!
'Who, when he breathes the tender sigh,
'Beholds no anger in thine eye!

Ah, then, what joys await the swain,
Who ardent pleads, nor pleads in vain;
"Whose voice may with his eye combine,
And say, secure, This heart is mine.

Capt. B. I am punished, but I have too well de'served it.'

Pho. Do you speak to his honour, William.

Will. No; do you speak, Phoebe.

Phoe. I am ashamed-William and I, your honourWilliam prayed me to let him keep me company-so he gained my good-will to have him, if so be my grandmother consents.

[Courtseying and playing with her apron. Will. If your honour would be so good to speak to Dorcas.

Bel. Dorcas, you must not refuse me any thing today. I'll give William a farm.

Dor. Your honour is too kind-take her, William, and make her a good husband.

Will. That I will, dame.

Will. [To Bel.] Thank your honour. }

Pho.

[Belville joins their hands; they bow and courtesy. Will. What must I do with the purse, your honour? Dorcas would not take it.

Bel. I believe my brother has the best right.

Capt. B. 'Tis yours, William; dispose of it as you please.

Will. Then I'll give it to our honest Irishmen, who fought so bravely for Rosina.

Bel. You have made a good use of it, William; nor shall my gratitude stop here.

Capt. B. Allow me to retire, brother, and learn at ' a distance from you to correct those errors into which 'the fire of youth and bad example have hurried me.' When I am worthy of your esteem, I will return, and demand my rights in your affection.

Bel. You must not leave us, brother, the man who 'wishes to be virtuous has already taken a good step 'towards being so.' Resume the race of honour; be indeed a soldier,* and be more than my brother-be my

* On the mention of the character of a true Soldier, the Editor cannot forbear referring the Reader to Sir Richard Steele's Christian

friend,

Dorcas, you have a mother's right in Rosina,

' and must not leave us.'

[During the Finale, William distributes the money among the Reapers.'

AIR. Finale.

BELVILLE, and Capt. BELVILLE.

*

To bless, and to be blest, be ours,
Whate'er our rank, whate'er our pow'rs;
On some what gifts Heav'n bounteous showers,
Who reap like us in this rich scene.

Yet those who taste the bounty less,

The sigh malevolent repress,

And loud the feeling bosom bless,

Which something leaves for want to glean.
ROSINA.

How pure the joy that fills my breast!
Since Belville all his soul exprest,
And hush'd my anxious fears to rest:
I now may reap-how chang'd the scene!

But ne'er can I forget the day,
When all to want and woe a prey,
Soft pity taught his soul to say,

Unfeeling Rustic, let her glean!

RUSTIC, DORCAS, WILLIAM, & PHŒre.
The hearts you glad your own display,
May Heav'n such goodness more than pay;
Blest, may you many a summer's day

Reap your full crops in this rich scene :

Hero, mentioned before (Vol. II. p. 136.) to Broughton's Christian Soldier, a Sermon, and also to Bishop Horne's admirable Discourse on The Devout Soldier.

See before, p. 296. Note.

And O! when summer's joys are o’er,
And autumn yields its fruits no more,
New blessings be there yet in store,

For winter's sober hours to glean.

CHORUS OF All.

And O! when summer's joys are o'er, &c.

[The Reapers form dances, and present nosegays of corn-flowers and poppies to Belville and Rosina.

THE END.