SCENE L-A rural prospect, with a mill at work. Several people employed about; on one side a house, PATTY reading in the window; on the other a barn, where FANNY sits mending a net; GILES appears at a distance in the mill; FAIRFIELD and RALPH taking sacks from a cart. CHORUS. FREE from sorrow, free from strife, O how blest the miller's life! Chearful working through the day, Still he laughs, and sings away. Nought can vex him, Nought perplex him, While there's grist to make him gay. DUET. Let the great enjoy the blessings By indulgent fortune sent: What can wealth, can grandeur offer Fair. Well done, well done! 'tis a sure sign work goes on merrily, when folks sing at it. Stop the mill there! and dost hear, son Ralph? hoist yon sacks of flour upon this cart, lad, and drive it up to lord Aimworth's; coming from London last night with strange company, no doubt there are calls enough for it by this time. Ralph. Ay, feyther, whether or not, there's no doubt but you'll find enow for a body to do. Fair. What, dost mutter? Is't not a strange plague that thou can'st never go about any thing with a good will! murrain take it, what's come o'er the boy? So, then, thou wilt not set a hand to what I have desired thee? Ralph. Why don't you speak to suster Pat to do something, then? I thought when she came home to us, after my old lady's death, she was to you, have been of some use in the house; but, instead | You think I'm afraid? but the difference to shew of that, she sits there all day, reading outlandish books, dressed like a fine madumasel, and the never a word you says to she. Fair. Sirrah, don't speak so disrespectfully of thy sister! thou wilt never have the tithe of her deserts. Ralph. Why I'll read and write with her for what she dares; and as for playing on the hapsicols, I thinks her good rich mother might have learned her something more properer, seeing she did not remember to leave her a legacy at last. Fair. That's none of thy business, sirrab. Ralph. A farmer's wife painting pictures, and playing on the bapsicols! why I'll be hanged now, for all as old as she is, if she knows any more about milking a cow, than I do of sewing a petticoat. Fair. Ralph, thou hast been drinking this morning. Ralph. Well, if so be as I have, it's nothing out of your pocket, nor mine neither. Fair. Who has been giving thee liquor, sirrah? First, yonder's your shovel; your sacks, too, I throw you; Henceforward take care of your matters who will; They're welcome to slave for your wages who need 'em, Tol lol derol lol, I have purchase a my freedom, And never hereafter shall work at the inill. Enter PATTY. [Exit. Fair. Dear heart, dear heart! I protest this ungracious boy puts me quite beside myself. Patty, my dear, come down into the yard a little, and keep me company-and you, thieves, vagabonds, gipsies, out here! 'tis you who debauch my son. AIR. Pat. In love to pine and languish, What powers unrelenting, Severer ills inventing, Can sharpen pangs like these? Where days and nights tormenting, Yield not a moment's ease! Fair. Well, Patty, master Goodman, my lord's steward, has been with me just now, and I find we are like to have great doings; his lordship has brought down sir Harry Sycamore and his family, and there is more company expected in a few days. Pat. I know sir Harry very well; he is by marriage a distant relation of my lord's. Fair. Pray, what sort of a young body is the daughter there? I think she used to be with you at the castle, three or four summers ago, when iny young lord was out upon his travels. Pat. Oh! very often; she was a great favourite of my lady's: pray, father, is she come down? Fair. Why, you know the report last night, about my lord's going to be married? by what I can learn she is; and there is likely to be a nearer relationship between the families, ere long, It seems, his lordship was not over willing for the match, but the friends on both sides in London pressed it so hard: then, there's a swinging fortune: Master Goodman tells me, a matter of twenty or thirty thousand pounds. Pat. If it was a million, father, it would not be more than my lord Aimworth deserves; I suppose the wedding will be celebrated here at the mansion-house? Fair. No, in truth, friend Giles; but I mentioned our affair at a distance; and I think there is no fear. Fair. So it is thought, as soon as things can | Pat have had a long discourse together; did you be properly prepared-And now, Patty, if I tell her that I was come down? could but see thee a little merry-Come, bless thee, pluck up thy spirits!-To be sure thou hast sustained, in the death of thy lady, a heavy loss; she was a parent to thee; nay, and better, inasmuch as she took thee, when thou wert but a babe, and gave thee an education which thy natural parents could not afford to do. Pat. Ah! dear father, don't mention what, perhaps, has been my greatest misfortune. Fair. Nay, then, Patty, what's become of all thy sense, that people talk so much about ?But I have something to say to thee, which I would have thee consider seriously.I believe I need not tell thee, my child, that a young maiden, after she is marriageable, especially if she has any thing about her to draw people's notice, is liable to ill tongues, and a many cross accidents; so that, the sooner she's out of harm's way, the better. Pat. Undoubtedly, father, there are people enough who watch every opportunity to gratify their own malice; but when a young woman's conduct is unblameable Fair. Why, Patty, there may be something in that; but you know slander will leave spots, where malice finds none: I say, then, a young woman's best safeguard is a good husband. Now there is our neighbour, Farmer Giles; he is a sober, honest, industrious young fellow, and one of the wealthiest in these parts; he is greatly taken with thee, and it is not the first time I have told thee I should be glad to have him for a son-in-law. Pat. And I have told you as often, father, I would submit myself entirely to your direction; whatever you think proper for me, is so. Fair. Why that's spoken like a dutiful, sensible girl; get thee in, then, and leave me to manage it. Perhaps our neighbour Giles is not a gentleman; but what are the greatest part of our country gentlemen good for? Pat. Very true, father. The sentiments, indeed, have frequently little correspondence with the condition; and it is according to them alone we ought to regulate our esteem. AIR. What are outward forms and shews, To an honest heart compared? Oft the rustic, wanting those, Has the nobler portion shared. Oft we see the homely flower Bearing, at the hedge's side, Virtues of more sovereign power Than the garden's gayest pride. Enter GILES. [Exit. Giles. That's right-and when shall us-You do know I have told you my mind often and often. Fair. Farmer, give us thy hand; nobody doubts thy good will to me and my girl; and you may take my word, I would rather give her to thee than another; for I am main certain thou wilt make her a good husband. Giles. Thanks to your good opinion, Master Fairfield; if such be my hap, I hope there will be no cause of complaint. Fair. And I promise thee my daughter will make thee a choice wife. But thou know'st, friend Giles, that I, and all belongs to me, have great obligations to lord Aimworth's family. Patty, in particular, would be one of the most ungrateful wretches this day breathing, if she was to do the smallest thing contrary to their consent and approbation. Giles. Nay, nay, 'tis well enough known to all the country, she was the old lady's darling. Fair. Well, Master Giles, I'll assure thee she is not one whit less obliged to my jord himself. When his mother was taken off so suddenly, and his affairs called him up to London, if Patty would have remained at the castle, she might have had the command of all; or if she would have gone any where else, he would have paid for her fixing, let the cost be what it would. Giles. Why, for that matter, folks did not spare to say, that my lord had a sort of a sneaking kindness for her himself: and I remember, at one time, it was rife all about the neighbourhood, that she was actually to be our lady. Fair. Pho, pho! a pack of womans' tales. Giles. Nay, to be sure they'll say any thing. Fair. My lord's a man of a better way of thinking, friend Giles-but this is neither here nor there to our business-Have you been at the castle yet? Giles. Who I! Bless your heart, I did not hear a syllable of his lordship's being come down, 'till your lad told me. Fair. No! why, then, go up to my lord; let him know you have a mind to make a match with my daughter; hear what he has to say to it; and afterwards we will try if we can't settle matters. Giles. Go up to my lord! Icod if that be all, I'll do it with the biggest pleasure in life. But where's Miss Pat? Might one not ax her how she do? Fair. Never spare it; she's within there. Giles. I see her-odd rabbit it, this hatch is locked now-Miss Pat-Miss Patty-She makes Giles. Well, Master Fairfield, you and Miss believe not to hear me. VOL. III. 3 F |