hers would live to share my poor pittance. wo'not grieve thee. But I [Dorcas enters the Cottage, looking back affec tionately at Rosina. Phœ. What makes you so melancholy, Rosina? Mayhap it's because you have not a sweetheart? But you are so proud you won't let our young men coine a near you. You may live to repent being so scornful. AIR. When William at eve meets me down at the stile, Whilst the moon plays yon branches among. [During the last Stanza William appears at the end of the Scene, and makes Signs to Phœbe; who, when it is finished, steals softly to him, and they disappear. Ros. How small a part of my evils is poverty! And how little does Phœbe know the heart she thinks insensible! the heart which nourishes a hopeless passion. I blest, like others, Belville's gentle virtues, and knew not that 'twas love. Unhappy! lost Rosina! AIR. The morn returns, in saffron drest, The blushing morn awakes the strain, Shall strike the sprightly lyre. Rust. [Without] To work, my hearts of oak, to work; here the sun is half an hour high, and not a stroke struck yet.. Enter RUSTIC, singing, followed by Reapers. AIR. Rust. See, ye swains, yon streaks of red Cho. Late you till'd the fruitful soil; See! where harvest crowns your toil. Rust. As we reap the golden corn, Cho. What would gilded pomp avail Cho. Bending, see the waving grain, Crown the year, and cheer the swain. Rust. Hist! there's his honour. Where are all the lazy Irishmen I hir'd yesterday at market? Enter BELVILLE, followed by two Irishmen and 1 Irish. Is it us he's talking of, Paddy? Then the devil may thank him for his good commendations. Bel. You are too severe, Rustic; the poor fellows came three miles this morning; therefore I made them stop at the manor-house to take a little refreshment. 1 Irish. Bless your sweet face, my jewel, and all those who take your part. Bad luck to myself, if I would not, with all the veins of my heart, split the dew before your feet in a morning. [To Belville. Rust. If I do speak a little cross, it's for your honour's good. [The Reapers cut the Corn, and make it into Sheaves. Rosina follows, and gleans. Rust. [Seeing Rosina] What a dickens does this girl do here? Keep back; wait till the reapers are off the field; do like the other gleaners. Ros. [Timidly] If I have done wrong, sir, I will put what I have glean'd down again. [She lets falls the Ears she had gleaned. Bel. How can you be so unfeeling, Rustic? She is lovely, virtuous, and in want. Let fall some ears, that she may glean the more. Rust. Your honour is too good by half. Bel. No more: gather up the corn she has let fall. Do as I command you. Rust. There, take the whole field, since his honour chooses it. [Putting the Corn into her Apron. Ros. I will not abuse his goodness. [Retires, gleaning. 2 Irish. Upon my soul now, his honour's no churl of the wheat, whate'er he may be of the barley. Bel. [Looking after Rosina] What bewitching softness! There is a blushing, bashful gentleness, an almost infantine innocence in that lovely countenance, which it is impossible to behold without emotion! She turns this way: What bloom on that cheek! "Tis the blushing down of the peach. AIR. Her mouth, which a smile, Half opens to view, More fragrant her breath Or the blossoms of May. Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE, in a Riding-dress. Capt. B. Good morrow, brother; you are early abroad. Bel. My dear Charles, I am happy to see you. True, I find, to the first of September. Capt. B. I meant to have been here last night, but one of my wheels broke, and I was obliged to sleep at a village six miles distant, where I left my chaise, and took a boat down the river at day-break. But your corn is not off the ground. Bel. You know our harvest is late in the north; but you will find all the lands clear'd on the other side the mountain. Capt. B. And pray, brother, how are the partridges this season? Bel. There are twenty coveys within sight of my house, and the dogs are in fine order. Capt. B. The gamekeeper is this moment leading them round. I am fir'd at the sight. AIR. By dawn to the downs we repair, With bosoms right jocund and gay, Fire away! whilst loud echo replies Fire away! Hark! the volley resounds to the skies! And resounds to the skies, But where is my little rustic charmer? O! there she is : the little girl whose dawning beauty we admired so much last year? Bel. It is, and more lovely than ever. I shall dine in the field with my reapers to-day, brother: will you share our rural repast, or have a dinner prepar'd at the manor-house? Cupt. B. By no means: pray let me be of your party: your plan is an admirable one, especially if your girls are handsome. I'll walk round the field, and meet you at dinner time. [Exeunt Belville and Rustic. Captain Belville goes up to Rosina, gleans a few Ears, and presents them to her; she refuses them, and runs out ; he follows her. Enter WILLIAM, speaking at the side Scene. Will. Lead the dogs back, James; the captain won't shoot to-day. [Seeing Rustic and Phœbe behind] Indeed, so close! I don't half like it. Enter RUSTIC and PHEВЕ. Rust. That's a good girl! Do as I bid you, and you shan't want encouragement. [He goes up to the Reapers, and William comes forward. Will. O no, I dare say she won't. So, Mrs. Phœbe! Phœ. And so, Mr. William, if you go to that! Will. A new sweetheart, I'll be sworn; and a pretty comely lad he is: but he's rich, and that's enough to win a woman. Phœ. I don't desarve this of you, William: but I'm rightly sarved, for being such an easy fool. You think, mayhap, I'm at my last prayers; but you may find yourself mistaken. Will. You do right to cry out first; you think belike that I did not see you take that posy from Harry. Phœ. And you, belike, that I did not catch you tying up one, of cornflowers and wild roses, for the miller's |