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Dor. Do, dear: the poor must be sparing. thinks insensible! the heart which nourishes a [Rosina going to put out the lamp, Dor- hopeless passion! I blest, like others, Belville's

cas looks after her und sighs ; she re- gentle virtues, and knew not that 'twas love.
turns hastily.

Unhappy, lost Rosina !
Ros. Why do you sigh, Dorcas ?
Dor. I canno' bear it: it's nothing to Phæbe

AIR.
und me, but thou wast not born to labour.

Ros. Why should I repine? Heaven, which The morn returns in saffron drest,
deprived me of my parents and my fortune, lett But not to sad Rosina rest.
me health, content, and innocence. Nor is it cer-

The blushing morn awakes the strain, tain that riches lead to happiness. Do you

Auukes the tuneful choir, think the nightingale sings the sweeter for being

But sad Rosina ne'er again in a gilded cage?

Shull strike the sprightly lyre. Dor. Sweeter, I'll maintain it, than the poor little linnei, which thou pick'dst up half starved Rus. (Between the Scenes.] To work, my under the bedye yesterday, after its mother hearts of oak, to work! here the sun is balf an had been shot, and brought'st to live in thy hour high, and not a stroke struck yet. bosom. Let ine speak to his honour, be's main

[Enters singing, followed by Reapers. kind to the poor. Ros. Not for worlds, Dorcas ! I want nothing:

AIR. you have been a mother to me.

Dor. Would I could! would I could! I ha' Rus. See, ye swains, yon streaks of red worked hard, and earned money in my time;

Call you from your slothful bed! but now I am old aud feeble, and am pushed

Late you till the fruitful soil ; about by every body. More's the piry, I say:

See where harvest crowns your toil. it was not so in my young time; but the world

Chorus of Reapers.
grows wickeder every day.
Ros. Your age, my good Dorcas, requires

Late you tilld the fruitful soil ;
rest: go into the cottage, whilst Phoebe and I

See where hardest crowns your loil !
join the gleaners, who are asseinbling from every
part of the village.

Rus. As we reap the golden corn,
Dor. Many a time have I carried thy dear

Laughing Plenty fills her horn;
mother, an infant, in these arms: little did I

Ilhat would gilded pomp avail, think a child of her's would live to share my poor

Should the peasunt's labour fail? pittance.-But I wo' not grieve thee.

Chorus of Reapers.
(Dorcas enters the Cottage, looking back
affectionately at Rosina.

Ilhat would gilded pomp atail,
Phæ. What inakes you so melancholy, Ro-

Should the peasant's labour fail?
sina? mayhap it's because you have not a
sweetheart? but you are so proud, you won't let Rus. Ripen'd fields your cares repay,
our young men come a near you. You may live

Sons of labour haste away; to repent being so scornful.

Bonding, see the waving grain

Crown the year, and cheer the swuin.
AIR..

Chorus of Reapers.
When William at ece meets me down at the

Bending, see the wuring grain
stile,

Crown the year, and cheer the swain.
How sweet is the nightingale's song!
Of the day I forget the labour and toil,

Rus. Hist! there's his honour. Where are
Whilst the moon plays yon branches among all the lazy Irisbinen I hired yesterday at mar.

ket?
By her beams, without blushing, I hear him

Enter two Irishmen.
complain,
And believe every word of his song :

1 Irish. Is it us he's talking of, Paddy? then You know not how sweet 'tis to love the dear the decil inay thank him for his good conswain,

merdations. Whilst the moon plays yon branches

among

Enter Belville, with two Servants. [During the last Slanza, William apperors Rel. You are too severe, Rustic, the poor fel

at the end of the Scene, and makes sions to lows came three miles this morning; therefore Puæbe, who, when it is finished, steaés softly I made them stop at the manor-house to take a to him, and they disappear.

little refreshment. Ros. How small a part of my erils is poverty! 1 Irish. God love your sweet face, my jewel, and how litlle does Phæbe kr,ow the heart she and all those that take your part! Bad luck to

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myself if I would not, with all the veins of my Capt. B. And pray, brother, how are the parheart, split the dew before your feet in a morn- | tridges this season? ing.

[To BELVILLE. Bel. There are twenty coveys within sight of Rus. If I do speak a little cross, it's for your my bouse, and the dogs are in fine order. honour's good.

Capt. B. The game-keeper is this moment [The Reapers cut the corn, and make it into leading them round; I am fired at the sight.

Shenves. Rosina follows, and gleuns. Rus. (Seeing Rosina.) What a dickens doch

AIR.-Trio. this girl do bere? keep back: wait till the reapers are off the field; do like the other

By the down to the downs we repair, gleaners.

With bosoms right jocund and guy, Ros. [Timidly.] If I have done wrong, sir, I And gain more than pheasant or hare, will put what I bave gleaned down again.

Gain health by the sports of the day. [She lets fall the ears she had gleaned. Bel. How can you be so unfeeling, Rustic? Mark! mark! to the right hand prepareshe is lovely, virtuous, and in want. Let fall See Diana! she pointssce, they risesome ears, that she may glean the more.

See they float on the bosom of air! Rus. Your honour is too good by balf.

Fire uwuy! whilst loud echo replies, Bel. No more; gather up the corn she has

Fire cucy! Jet fall. Do as I command you.

Rus. There, take the whole field, since his Hark! the volley resounds to the skies! honour chooses.

Whilst echo in thunder replies ! [Pulling the corn into her apron. Retires In thunder replies, gleaning,

And resounds to the skies, 2 Irish. Upon my soul now, his honour's no Fire away! fire away! fire away! churl of the wheat, whatever he may be of the barley.

Capt. B. [Aside.] But where is my little rus Bel. (Looking after Rosina.] What be- tic charmer? O! there she is. I am transported! witching softness! there is a blushing, bashfu! -Pray, brother, is not that the little girl gentleness, and almost infantine innocence, in whose dawning beauty we admired so much last that lovely countenance, which it is impossible year? 10 behold without emotion ! she turns this way: Pel. It is, and more lovely than ever. I shall what blooin on that cheek! 'tis the blushing

dine in the field with my reapers to-day, brotber: down of the peach.

will you share our rural repast, or bave'a dianer

prepared at the manor house? AIR.

Capt. B. By no means; pray let me be one of

your party: your plan is an adinirable one, espe Her mouth, which a smile,

cially if your girls are handsome. I'll walk round Deroid of all guile,

the field, and meet you at dinner time. Half opens to view,

Bel. Come this way, Rustie; I have some Is the bud of the rose,

orders to give you. In the morning that blows,

[Exeunt BELVILLE and Rustic. Impearld with the dew.

[CAPTAIN Belville goes up to Rosina, gleans More fragrant her breath

a few ears, and presents them to her; ske Than The flower-scented heath

refuses them; she runs out; he folloas ker. Al the dawning of day; The hawthorn in bloom,

Enter William, speaking at the side Scene. The lily's perfume,

Will. Lead the dogs back, James, the capo Or the blossoms of May.

tain won't shoot to day. (Seeing Rustic and

Puere behind.] Indeed! so close! I don't half Enter Captain BELVILLE, in a Riding Dress. like it. Capt. B. Good morrow, brother; you are

Enter Rustic and Pa@BE. early abroad.

Bel. My dear Charles, I am happy to see you. Rus. That's a good girl! do as I bid you, and True, I find, to the first of September.

you shan't want encouragement. Capt. B. I meant to have been here last night; [He goes up to the Reapers, and WILLIAN but one of my wheels broke, and I was obliged comes forward. to sleep at a village six miles distant, where I Will. O, no; I dare say she won't. So, Mrs. left my chaise, and took a boat down the river at Phæbe ! day-break. But your coro is not off the ground. Phæbe. And so, Mr. William, if you go to

Bel. You know our harvest is late in the north, that! but you will find all the lands cleared on the Will. A new sweetheart, I'll be sworn; and other side the mountain.

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AIR. a pretty comely lad he is : but he's rich, and that's enough to win a woman.

Phabe. I don't desarve this of you, William ; Il’hilst with village maids I stray,
but I'm rightly sarved for being such an easy Saeetly wears the joyous day:
fool. You think, mayhap, I'm at my last prayers ; Cheerful ylows my artless breast,
but you may find yourself mistaken.

Mild content the constant guest.
Will. You do right to cry out first; you

think belike that I did not see you take that posy from Capt. B. Mere prejudice, child : you will Harry.

know better. I pity you, and will inake your Plæbe. And you, belike, that I did not catch fortune. you tying up one of the cornflowers and wild kos. Let me call my mother, sir. I am young, roses for the miller's maid: but I'll be fooled no and can support myself by my labour, but she longer; I have done with you, Mr. William. is old and belpless, and your charity will be well

Will. I shan't break iny heart, Mrs. Phæbe. bestowed. Please to transfer to her the bounty
The miller's maid loves the ground I walk on. you intended for me.

Capt. B. Why, as to that
AIR.-Duet.

Ros. I understand you, sir; your compassion

does not extend to old women.
Will. I've kiss'd and I've pratiled to fifty Cupt. B. Real y, I believe vot.

fuir maids,
And changed 'em as oft, d'ye see ;

Enter Dorcas.
But of all the fuir maidens that dunce
on the green,

Ros. You are just come in time, mother. I
The maid of the mill for me. have met with a generous gentleman, whose
Phæ. There's fifty young men have told me charity inclines him to succour youth.
fine tales,

Dor. 'Tis very kind; and old age-
And call'd me the fairest she ;

Ros. He'll tell you that himself.
But of all the gay wrestlers that sport

[Rosina goes into the Cottage. on the green,

Dor. I thought so. Sure, sure, 'tis no sin to
Young Hurry's the lad for me. be old !
Will. Her eyes are as black as the sloe in the Capt. B. You must not judge of me by others,
hedge,

honest Dorcas. I am sorry for your misfortunes,
Her face like the blossom in May; and wish to serve you.
Her teeth are as white as the new shorn Dor. And to what, your honour, may

I owe flock,

this kindness?
Her breuih like the new made hay. Capt. B. You have a charming daughter
Pbæ. He's tall and he's struit as a poplur tree, Dor. [Aside.] I thought as much. A vile
His chieks are as fresh as a rose ;

wicked man!
He looks like a 'squire of high degree, Capt. b. Beauty like her's might find a thou-

When drest in his Sunday clothes. sand resources in London: the moment she apPhæ. There's fully young men, &c.

pears there, she will turn every he ad. Will. I've kissd and I've prattled, &c. Dor. And is your honour sure ber own won't [Go off on different sides of the Stage. turn at the same time?

Capt. B. She shall live in affuence, and take Enter CAPTAIN Belville and KosinA.

care of you too, Dorcas. Capt. B. Stay, and bear me, Rosina. Why Dor. I guess your honour's meaning ; but will you fatigue yourseIf thus ? only homely giris you are mistaken, sir. If I must be a trouble to are born to work-your obstinacy is vain ; you the dear child, I shall rather owe my bread to sball hear me.

her labour than her shame,
Ros. Why do you stop me, sir? my time is [Goes into the Coltage, and shuts the door.
precious. When the gleaning season is over, Capt. B. These women astomsh me! but I
will you make up my loss?

won't give it up so.
Capt. B. Yes.
Ros. Will it be any advantage to you to make

Enter RUSTIC.
me lose my day's work?

A word with you, Rustic.
Capt. B. Yes.

Rus. I'm in a great hurry, your bonour; I am
Ros. Would it give you pleasure to see me going to hasten dinner.
pass all my days in idleness?

Capt. B. I shan't keep you a minute. Take Capt. B. Yes.

these five guineas. Ros. We differ greatly then, sir: I only wish Rus. For whom, sir? for so much leisure as inakes me return to my Capt. B. For yourself; and this purse. work with fresh spirit. We labour all the week, Rus. For whom, sir? 'tis true : but then how sweet is our rest on Capt. B. For Rosina ; they say she is in disSunday!

tress, and wants assistance.

ness.

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Rus. What pleasure it gives me to see you so | Rosina. Dorcas, you must come too, and charitable ! But why give me money, sir? Phæbe.

Capt. B. Only to-tell Rosina there is a per- Dor. We can't deny your honour. son who is very much interested in her happi- Ros. I am ashamed; but you command, sir.

Rus. Ilow much you will please his honour by Enter the Reapers, following CAPTAIS this! he takes mightily to Rosina, and prefers

BELVILLE. her to all the young women in the parish. Capt. B. Prefers her! ah! you sly rogue !

AIR.--Finale. [Laying his hand on Rustic's shoulder. Bel. By this fountain's flowery side, Rus. Your honour's a wag: but I'm sure I

Drest in Nature's blooming pride, meant no harm.

Where the poplar trembles high, Capt. B. Give her the money, and tell her she

And the bees in clusters fly; shall never want a friend : but not a word to my

Whilst the herdsman on the hill brother.

Listen to the falling rill, Rus. All's safe, your honour.

Pride and cruel scorn away, [Erit Captain Belville,

Let us share the festive day. I don't vastly like this business. At the Captain's Ros. & Bel. Taste our pleasures ye who may; age this violent charity is a little duberous. I

This is Nature's holiday. am bis honour's servant, and it's my duty to

Simple Nature ye who prize, hide nothing from him. I'll go seek his honour :

Life's fantastic forms despise. Ob! here he comes.

Chorus. Taste our pleasures ye who may,

This is Nature's holiday.
Enter BELVILLE.

Capt. Blushing Bell, with downcast eyes,
Bel. Well, Rustic, have you atiy intelligence

Sighs, and knows not why she sighs ; to coinmunicate ?

Tom is by herwe shall knowo Rus. A vast deal, sir. Your brother begins

How he eyes her! Is't not so ? to make a good use of his money: he has given Will. He is fond, and she is shy! me these five guineas for myself, and this purse

He would kiss her !-fie!-Oh, fie! for Rosina.

Mind thy sickle, let her be; Bel. For Rosina! (Aside.] 'Tis plain he loves

By and by she'll follow thee. her!-Obey him exactly: but as distress renders Chorus. "Busy censors, hence, away! the mind haughty, and Rosina's situation re

This is Nalure's holiday. quires the utmost delicacy, contrive to execute Rus. Now we'll quaff the nut-brown ale, your coinmission in such a manner that she

Then we'll tell the sportive tale ; may not even suspect from whence the money

All is jest, and all is glee,

All is youthful jollity. Rus. I understand your honour.

Phæ. Lads and lasses all advance, Bel. Have you gained any intelligence in re

Carol blithe, and form the dance ! spect to Rosina.

Trip it lightly, while you may, Rus. I endeavoured to get all I could from

This is Nature's holiday. the old woman's grand-daughter; but all she Chorus. Trip it lightly while you may, knew was, that she was no kin to Dorcas, and

This is Nature's holiday. that she had had a good bringing-up: but here [All rise ; the Dancers come down the Stage are the labourers.

through the Sheaves of Corn, which are reBel. Let the cloth be laid on these sheaves. moved; the Dance begins, and finishes the Behold the table of happiness ! But I don't see

Act.

comes.

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me,

Dor. I am just going, Rosina, to carry this Will. I knows nothing about it. thread to the weaver's.

Ros. Dorcas, however has found one. Ros. This basket is too heavy for you: pray,

Will. So much the better for she. let me carry it.

Ros. You will oblige me very much, if you [Takes the Basket from Dorcas, and sets it will carry it to Mr. Belville, and beg him to down on the Bench.

keep it till the owner is found. Dor. (Peevishly.] No, no.

Will. Since you desire it, I'll go; it shan't Ros. If you love me, only take half: this be the lighter for my carrying. evening, or to-inorrow morning, I will carry the Ros. That I am sure of, William. rest.

[Erit Rosina. [She takes part of the Skeins out of the Basket, and lays them on the Bench,

Enter Puebe.
looking affectionately on DORCAS.
There, be angry with

if
you please.

Phæ. There is William ; but I'll pretend not
Dor. No, my sweet lamb, I am not angry; to see him.
but beware of men.
Ros. Have you any doubts of my conduct,

AIR. Dorcas ?

Dor. Indeed I have not, love; and yet I am Henry culld the flow'ret's bloom, uneasy.

Marian loved the soft perfume,

Had playful kist, but prudence near Enter Captain Belville, listening.

Whisper'd timely in the ear ; Go back to the reapers, whilst I carry this

Simple Marian, ah! beware ; thread.

Touch them not, for love is there.' Ros. I'll go this moment.

[Throws away her Nosegay. Dor. But as I walk but slow, and 'tis a good way, you may chance to be at home before me, [While she is singing, William turns, looks so take the key.

at her, whistles, and plays with his stick. Ros. I will.

Will. That's Harry's posy; the slut likes me [Whilst Dorcas feels in her pocket for the still. Key.

Pha. [Aside.] That's a copy of his counteCapt. 8. (Aside.] Rosina to be at home nance, I'm sartain ; he can no more help fol. before Dorcas! bow lucky! I'll slip into the lowing me nor he can be hanged. house, and wait her coming, if 'tis till mid

[WILLIAM crosses again, singing. night. (He goes unperceived by them into the Cot-Of all the fair maidens that dance on the green, tage.

The maid of the mill for me. Dor. Let nobody go into the house.

Ros. I'll take care; but first I'll double lock Phæ. I am ready to choke wi' madness, but the door. [Stops to lock the Door.

I'll not speak first an' I die fort. Dor. (Sees the purse. Good lack : what is [William sings; throwing up his Stick, and I live!

catching it. Ros. How? Dor. Come, and see; 'tis a purse, indeed. Will. Her eyes are us black as the sloe in the Ros. Heavens ! 'tis full of gold !

hedge, Dor. We must put up a bill at the church Her face like the blossoms in May. gate, and restore it to the owner. The best way is to carry the money to bis honour, and Phæ. I can't bear it no longer-you vile, unget him to keep it till the owner is found. You grateful, parfidious—but it's no matter-I shall go with it, love,

can't think what I could see in you,-Harry Ros. Pray excuse me, I dare not speak to loves me, and is a thousand times more handbim. Dor. 'Tis nothing but childishness: but his

[Sings, sobbing at every word. honour will like your bashfulness better than too much courage--carry it, my love.

Of all the gay wrestlers that sport on the [Goes out.

green, Ros. I cannot support his presence—my em- Young Hurry's the lud for me. barrassinent-my confusion--a stronger sensation than that of gratitude agitates my heart, Will. He's yonder a reaping: shall I call him? yet hope in my situation were madness.

[Offers to go.

Pha. My grandmother leads me the life of a Enter WILLIAM.

dog; and it's all along of you.

Will. Well, then she'll be better tempered Pray, William, do you know any body that has now.

Phæ. I did not value her scolding of a brass

here? a purse,

somer.

lost a purse.

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