inheritance in my heart, and my land as firm as if you were born to it. Flora. To be serious, then, since you are so, I'll tell you, all the inheritance I boast or wish for, is this lów, humble cottage, and a mind, I hope a virtuous mind, that cannot, even in this situation, bear dishonour. Take back your worthless trifle of a heart, and your more worthless promises, and know, I scorn as much to yield to the mean bargain of your hireling passion, as you do to submit to honourable love. [Going. Heart. Stay, you shall stay---Let me but think a moment Flora. Think then, ungrateful man, what 'tis you do. My father, whose prop I am, the stay of his old age, taught me, with pious care, to tread the paths of virtue: how would it tear the strings of his old heart to see me fallen at once to shame and infamy! You call yourself a gentleman, and say, the laws of faith and honour, when they're broken, ask life for recompence: the lie is death; yet you would falsify your trust to him, defraud him of his treasure in his child, inhospitably murder your good host, the man whose house you entered with a trust that would to common thieves, under these limitations, be sacred and invio lable. Heart. Oh, thou hast touch'd my soul! I feel thy words; a conscious pang stabs thro' my heart, and covers me with shame. Yet, Flora, yet I hope you will forgive me, when you think how strongly we are bias ed to what is wrong. Custom, family, fortune, I know not what terrible words, make me fear to suffer in opinion only. Flora. I know the disparity of our fortunes; I know you fear your family and name should suffer. Believe me, Sir, they suffer more when you but tempt an honest mind from virtue. Heart. Oh, Flora, Flora, thou hast conquered! I own my crime, and humbly beg you will forgive it. Thy words, bright excellence, charm like thy beauty; thy soul's refined without society or courts; nature has form'd thee fair as her own humble lilies; no family can mend, no education teach, no habit improve your manners. Flora. "Oh, man, for flatt'ry and deceit re "nown'd!" Heart. In you I see the most perfect virtue clothed in all the charms of the most elegant form; in you I see all that we know of heaven, of those celestial lights that move for ever, virtue and beauty joined. Thus let me kneel, thus lowly at your feet, and ask your hand, your hand and heart in marriage; let the priest now join us. Will you, dare you trust your convert? Flora. Away with this! Think seriously, seriously, Sir. Can you for ever love me, for your life? A poor country girl, without a portion, without one penny for posterity? Take time, and think on't. Heart. I would marry thee, tho' I wrought with my G hands for thy daily support. My whole soul, all my wishes, are centered in thee. Flora. Ay, but when we are married they'll move eccentrically again. Marriage is a tedious journey in a heavy road; many an honest fellow, who set out briskly at first, has been heartily tired before he reached his inn at night. Heart. I must not, cannot, will not live without thee. "No hero in romance, no shepherd in pasto"ral, no poet's imagination, was ever more in love. "Can you deny me?" Give me your hand; let me be yours for ever. Flora. Come, Sir, I see you're a man of courage, and if my uncle consents Heart. I'll go in, and ask it without ceasingBut shall I then be sure of yours? Flora. I don't know you will with me. -But I think you do what [Exeunt. Enter MODELY. Mode. I can't imagine where Heartwell is gone, nor can I find the girls. I have hunted every Ha, Miss! have I caught you. Enter AURA. Aura. Sir, the tea is ready. Mode. Tea! Why, you live within doors as politely as the people of our world, as elegantly. This cottage is like a diamond in the quarry, all rough with out, within all light and beauty. Does your father drink tea too? Aura. No, Sir, his constant breakfast is a pipe and a pot of October. “He hates your soup-maigre of "element and herbs; he rails at the women for send"ing to t'other world for their cups and their break"fasts; and says more reputations have been broke <6 over our tea-tables than China dishes. In short, "that our sex is all China ware, fair and frail, and never flaw'd till used. "Mode. This severity in old age is not disagreea"ble; it becomes him, and is, like his own October, "sharp and sound. "Aura." But he expects us all this while. [Going. Mode. Hold, hold! Why, do you think I'll be served in this manner? Aura. What manner? Mode. How well you kept your appointment last night, gipsy! Aura. What appointment? Mode. To meet me in the arbor at the lower end of the orchard, alone. Aura. Pleasant! I meet a man at night in an arbor alone! Oh, hideous! What should I do there? Mode. Do! Why, I was to have made love to you in soft nonsense, you were to have been very angry and very kind, and so I was to have ravished you with Ah! a blush upon a your own consent, that's all. half consent looks so sweetly by moon-light. Aura. How came this wicked imagination into your head? Mode. In a dream, deary; 'tis pity it was not real. Mode. You're an angel. Aura. Begone-I fly thee, Satan- [Exit running. Mode. I'll follow thee to the world's end, thou temptation for a saint. [Exit. SCENE II. The Green before the Cottage. Enter HEARTWELL, FLORA, and several Countrymen and Women," dressed "as from a wedding, a blind old fidler before them, "one of the country fellows singing the following catch; "He that marries a lass "Without money, is still in a pitiful case: "Or he that for money alone "Puts a wedding ring "On an ugly rich thing, "Does but tie himself scurvily down: 1 Count. Come, neighbours, we'll dance at the " 'squire's wedding, as they say'n, till the sun rise "upon us, and stare us out o' countenance. |