I heard him lament his fate. Rosina's virtues | offended almost past forgiveness. Will the shall not go unrewarded.

Dor. Yes, I know'd it would be so. Heaven never forsakes the good man's children. Bel. I have another question to ask you, Dorcas, and answer my sincerely, is her heart free?

Dor. To be sure, she never would let any of our young men come a near her; and yet-ter. Bel. Speak: I am on the rack.

Dor. I'm afeard-she mopes and she pines allowed to hope-
But your honour would be angry

Ros. Do not, sir, envy me the calm defight of passing my independent days with Bel. Then my foreboding heart was right. Dorcas; in whom I have found a mother's [Aside. tenderness.

Bel. With me, sir-I will not lose sight of you. Rustic, hasten instantly with our reapers. Dorcas, you will be our guide. [Exit. Pho. I am asham'd-William and I, your Rust. Don't be frightened, sir; the Irishmen honour-William pray'd me to let him keep have rescued her: she is just here. [Exit. me company-so he gain'd my good will te

Bel. You must not leave us, brother. Re sume the race of honour; be indeed a sdRust. Your honour need not go far a field, dier, and be more than my brother-be my I believe; it must have been some friend of friend. the captain's, for his French valet commanded

Comic Opera, by Isaak Bickerstaff. Acted 1762, at Covent Garden. This performance, though compiled from Charles Johnson's Village Opera, Wycherley's Gentleman Dancing-Master, Marivaux's Jeu de l'Amour et du Hazard, and other musical pieces, yet met with so much favour from the town, that it was acted the first season almost as many times as The Beggar's Opera had formerly been, and nearly with as much success. being inoffensive in its tendency, probable in its incidents, spirited in its action, agreeable for its ease and regularity, It certainly has the merit of and natural in the delineation of character.

SCENE L-A Garden, with Statues, Fountains, and Flower-pots.

Several Arbours appear in the side Scenes; ROSETTA and LUCINDA are discovered at work, seated upon two Garden-chairs.

DUETT.

young desire,

Ros. HOPE! thou nurse of
Fairy promiser of joy,
Painted vapour, glowworm fire,
Temp'rate sweet, that ne'er can

Luc. Hope! thou earnest of delight,
Softest soother of the mind,
Balmy cordial, prospect bright,
Surest friend the wretched find:

Both. Kind deceiver, flatter still,

Deal out pleasures unpossest;
With thy dreams my fancy fill,
And in wishes make me blest.

Luc. Heigho!-Rosetta!

cloy:

For shame, you a lover!
More firmness discover;

Take courage, nor here longer mope;
Resist and be free,

Run riot, like me,

And, to perfect the picture, elope.
Luc. And is this your advice?
Ros. Positively.

Luc. Here's my hand; positively I'll follow it-I have already sent to my gentleman, who is now in the country, to let him know he may come hither this day; we will make use of the opportunity to settle all preliminariesAnd then-But take notice, whenever we decamp, you march off along with us.

Ros. Oh! madam, your servant; I have no inclination to be left behind, I assure youBut you say you got acquainted with this spark, while you were with your mother during her last illness at Bath, so that your father has never seen him.

Luc. Never in his life, my dear; and, I am confident, he entertains not the least suspicion

Ros. Well, child, what do you say? Luc. 'Tis a sad thing to live in a village a of my having any such connexion: my aunt, hundred miles from the capital, with a pre- indeed, has her doubts and surmises; but, beposterous gouty father, and a superannuated sides that my father will not allow any one maiden aunt. I am heartily sick of my situation. to be wiser than himself, it is an established Ros. And with reason-But 'tis in a great maxim between these affectionate relations, measure your own fault: here is this Mr. never to agree in any thing. Eustace, a man of character and family; he Ros. Except being absurd; you must allow likes you, you like him: you know one another's minds, and yet you will not resolve to make yourself happy with him.

AIR.

Whence can you inherit
So slavish a spirit?

Confin'd thus, and chain'd to a log!
Now fondled, now chid,
Permitted, forbid:

'Tis leading the life of a dog.

they sympathize perfectly in that - But, now we are on the subject, I desire to know what I am to do with this wicked old justice of peace, this father of yours? He follows me about the house like a tame goat.

Luc. Nay, I'll assure you he hath been a wag in his time - you must have a care of yourself.

Ros. Wretched me! to fall into such hands, who have been just forced to run away from my parents to avoid an odious marriage

Ros. Indeed, Lucinda, you are very silly.
Luc. Indeed, Rosetta, that blush makes

You smile at that now; and I know you think
me whimsical, as you have often told me; but
you must excuse my being a little over-deli- look very handsome.
cate in this particular.

A I R.

My heart's my own, my will is free,
And so shall be my voice;
No mortal an shall wed with me,
Till first he's made my choice.
Let parents rule, cry nature's laws,
And children still obey;

And is there then no saving clause,
Against tyrannic sway?

Luc. Well, but my dear, mad girl

Ros. Blush! I am sure I don't blush.
Luc. Ha, ha, ha!

Ros. Pshaw! Lucinda, how can you be se ridiculous?

Luc. Well, don't be angry, and I have doneBut suppose you did like him, how could you help yourself? [Exeunt into an Arbour. Enter young MEADOWS.

Young M. Let me see-on the fifteenth of June, at half an hour past five in the morning, [Taking out a Pocket-book] I left my father's Ros. Lucinda, don't talk to mee-Was your house unknown to any one, having made free father to go to London; meet there by acci- with a coat and jacket of our gardener's tha dent with an old fellow as wrong-headed as fitted me, by way of a disguise; so says my himself; and, in a fit of absurd friendship, pocket-book: and chance directing me to this agree to marry you to that old fellow's son, village, on the twentieth of the same monts whom you had never seen, without consulting I procured a recommendation to the worshipyour inclinations, or allowing you a negative, ful justice Woodcock, to be the superintendast in case he should not prove agreeable- of his pumpkins and cabbages, because I would Luc. Why I should think it a little hard, let my father see, I chose to run any lengths, I confess yet, when I see you in the charac- rather than submit to what his obstinacy wook ter of a chambermaidhave forced me, a marriage against my in

Ros. Is is the only character, my dear, in clination, with a woman I never saw. [Pus which I could hope to lie concealed; and, I up the Book, and takes up a Watering can tell you, I was reduced to the last ex- pot] Here I have been three weeks, and in tremity, when, in consequence of our old that time I am as much altered as if I hat boarding-school friendship, I applied to you to changed my nature with my habit.-'Sdeals, receive me in this capacity; for we expected to fall in love with a chambermaid: And ye the parties the very next week. if I could forget that I am the son and her of Sir William Meadows. But that's impossible.

Luc. But had not you a message from your intended spouse, to let know he was as you little inclined to such ill-concerted nuptials as you were?

Ros. More than so; he wrote to advise me, by all means, to contrive some method of breaking them off; for he had rather return to his dear studies at Oxford: and, after that, what hopes could I have of being happy with bim?

AIR.

O! had I been by fate decreed
Some humble cottage swain;
In fair Rosetta's sight to feed

My sheep upon the plain;
What bliss had I been born to taste,

Which now I ne'er must know!

Ye envious powers! why have ye plac'd
My fair one's lot so low?

Luc. Then you are not at all uneasy at the strange rout you must have occasioned at Ila! who was it I had a glimpse of as I pass'd home? I warrant, during this month you have by that arbour? Was it not she sat reading been absentthere? the trembling of my heart tells me my eyes were not inistaken-Here she comes.

Ros. Oh! don't mention it, my dear; I have had so many admirers, since I commenced, Abigail 1), that I am quite charmed with my situation-But hold, who stalks yonder in the yard, that the dogs are so glad to see?

[Retires. Rosetta comes down from the Arbour. Ros. Lucinda was certainly in the right of it; and yet I blush to own my weakness even Luc. Daddy Hawthorn, as I live! He is to myself -- Marry, hang the fellow for not come to pay my father a visit; and never being a gentleman.

more luckily, for he always forces him abroad. Young M. I am determined I won't speak By the way, what will you do with yourself to her. [Turning to a Rose-tree, and plucking while I step into the house to see after my the Flowers] Now or never is the time to trusty messenger, Hodge? conquer myself: besides, 1 have some reason Ros. No matter; I'll sit down in that arbour, to believe the girl has no aversion to me; and, and listen to the singing of the birds: you as I wish not to do her an injury, it would know I am fond of melancholy amusements. be cruel to fill her head with notions of what Luc. So it seems, indeed: sure, Rosetta, can never happen. [Hums a Tune] Pshaw none of your admirers had power to touch rot these roses, how they prick one's fingers! your heart; you are not in love, I hope? Ros. He takes no notice of me; but so

suppose

Ros. In love! that's pleasant: who do you much the better; I'll be as indifferent as be I should be in love with, pray? is. I am sure the poor lad likes me; and if Luc. Why, let me see- -What do you think I was to give him any encouragement, I sup of Thomas, our gardener? There he is at the pose the next thing he talked of would other end of the walk-He's a pretty young buying a ring, and being asked in churchman, and the servants say, he's always writing Oh, dear pride, I thank you for that thought.

verses on you.

1) Servant-maid,

Young M. Hah, going without a word! a look!-I can't bear that Mrs. Rosetta, I am

gathering a few roses here, if you please to take them in with you.

Haw. Am I here? Yes: and, if you had been where I was three hours ago, you would Ros. Thank you, Mr. Thomas, but all my find the good effects of it by this time: but lady's flower-pots are full. you have got the lazy, unwholesome, London

Young M. Will you accept of them for fashion of lying abed in a morning, and there's yourself, then? [Catching hold of her] What's gout for you-Why, sir, I have not been in the matter? you look as if you were angry bed five minutes after sunrise these thirty with me.

Ros. Pray let go my hand. Young M. Nay, pr'ythee, why is this? you shan't go, I have something to say to you, Ros. Well, but I must go, I will sire, Mr. Thomas

AIR.

Gentle youth, ah, tell me why
Still you force me thus to fly?
Cease, oh! cease to persevere;
Speak not what I must not hear;
To my heart its ease restore;
Go, and never see me more.

go; I de

years, am generally up before it; and I never took a dose of physic but once in my life, and that was in compliment to a cousin of mine, an apothecary, that had just set up business. Jus. W. Well but, master Hawthorn, let me tell you, you know nothing of the matter; for, I say, sleep is necessary for a man; ay, and I'll maintain it.

Haw. What, when I maintain the contrary?-Look you, neighbour Woodcock, you are a rich man, a man of worship, a justice of peace, and all that; but learn to know the respect that is due to the sound from the in[Exit. firm; and allow me that superiority a good Young M. This girl is a riddle-That she constitution gives me over you-Health is the loves me I think there is no room to doubt; greatest of all possessions; and 'tis a maxim she takes a thousand oppo, unities to let me with me, that a hale cobler is a better man see it: and yet, when I speak to her, she will than a sick king. hardly give me an answer; and, if I attempt the smallest familiarity, is gone in an instant

Jus. W. Well, well, you are a sportsman.
Haw. And so would you be too, if you

I feel my passion for her grow every day would take my advice. A sportsman! why more and more violent-Well, would I marry there is nothing like it: I would not exchange her?- would I make a mistress of her if I the satisfaction I feel, while I am beating the could? - Two things, called prudence and lawns and thickets about my little farm, for honour, forbid either. What am I pursuing, all the entertainment and pageantry in Christthen? A shadow. Sure my evil genius laid endom. this snare in my way. However, there is one comfort, it is in my power to fly from it; if so, why do I hesitate? I am distracted, unable to determine any thing.

SCENE II.-A Hall in JUSTICE WOODCOCK'S
House.

Enter HAWTHORN, with a Fowlingpiece in
his Hands, and a Net with Birds at his
Girdle.

AIR.

There was a jolly miller once,

Liv'd on the river Dee;

AIR.

Let gay ones and great,

Make the most of their fate,
From pleasure to pleasure they run;
Well, who cares a jot,

Hodge. Did your worship call, sir?

-

Jus. W. Call, sir; where have you and the rest of these rascals been? but I suppose I need not ask- You must know there is a statute, a fair for hiring servants, held upon my green to-day; we have it usually at this season of the year, and it never fails to put

He work'd and sung from morn till night; all the folks hereabout out of their senses.

No lark more blithe than be.

And this the burthen of his song,

For ever us'd to be

I care for nobody, not I,

If no one cares for me.

House, here, house! what all gadding, abroad! house, I say, billi-ho, ho!

Hodge. Lord, your honour, look out, and see what a nice show they make yonder; they had got pipers, and fiddlers, and were dancing as I came along, for dear life- I never saw such a mortal throng in our village in all my all born days again.

Jus. W. [Without] Here's a noise, here's a racket! William, Robert, Hodge! why does not somebody answer? Odds my life, I believe the fellows have lost their hearing!

Enter JUSTICE WOODCOCK.

Haw. Why, I like this now, this is as it should be.

Jus. W. No, no, 'tis a very foolish piece of business; good for nothing but to promote idleness and the getting of bastards: but I shall take measures for preventing it another year, and I doubt whether I am not sufficiently

Oh, master Hawthorn! I guessed it was some authorized already; for by an act passed Auno such madcap-Are you there?

undecimo Caroli primi, which empowers a

let

justice of peace, who is lord of the manor-
Haw. Come, come, never mind the act;
me tell
you, this is a very proper, a very use-
ful meeting; I want a servant or to myself,
I must go see what your market affords;
and you shall go, and the girls, my little Lucy
and the other young rogue, and we'll make a
day on't as well as the rest.

[Reads the Letter to herse Hodge. Lord a inercy! how my arm ad with beating that plaguy beast: I'll be hang if I won'na' rather ha' thrash'd half a day than ha' ridden her.

Luc. Well, Hodge, you have done you business very well.

Hodge. Well, have not I now?

Jus. W. I wish, master Hawthorn, I could teach you to be a little more sedate: why Luc. Yes-Mr. Eustace tells me in this letter, won't you take pattern by me, and consider that he will be in the green lane, at the other your dignity? Odds heart, I don't wonder end of the village, by twelve o'clock - You you are not a rich man; you laugh too much know where he came before. ever to be rich.

Haw. Right, neighbour Woodcock! health, good humour, and competence, is my motto: and, if my executors have a mind, they are welcome to make it my epitaph.

Hodge. Been, ay, I ha' been far enough, an that be all: you never knew any thing fall out so crossly in your born days.

Luc. Why, what's the matter?

Hodge. Ay, ay.

Luc. Well, you must go there; and wat till he arrives, and watch your opportunity introduce him, across the fields, into the lite summer-house, on the left side of the garden Hodge. That's enough.

Luc. But take particular care that nobody sees you.

Hodge. I warrant you.

Luc. Nor for your life drop a word of t to any mortal.

Hodge. Never fear me.
Luc. And, Hodge-

AIR.-HODGE.

Well, well, say no more;
Sure you told me before;
I see the full length of my tether;
Do you think I'm a fool,

That I need go to school?

I can spell you and put you together.
A word to the wise,
Will always suffice;
Addsniggers, go talk to your parrot;
I'm not such an elf,

Though I say it myself,

But I know a sheep's head from a carrot

[Exit

Hodge. Why you know, I dare not take a horse out of his worship's stables this morning, for fear it should be missed, and breed questions; and our old nag at home was so cruelly beat i'th' hoofs, that, poor beast, it had not a foot to set to ground; so I was fain to go to Luc. How severe is my case! Here I am farmer Ploughshare's, at the Grange, to bor- obliged to carry on a clandestine correspondence row the loan of his bald filly; and, would you with a man in all respects my equal, because think it? after walking all that way-de'el from the oddity of my father's temper is such, that me, if the crossgrained toad did not deny me I dare not tell him I have ever yet seen person I should like to marry But perhaps he has quality in his eye, and hopes, one day or other, as I am his only child, to match me with a title-vain imagination!

the favour.

Luc. Unlucky!

Hodge. Well, then I went my ways to the King'shead in the village, but all their cattle were at plough and I was as far to seek below at the turnpike: so at last, for want of a better, I was forced to take up with dame Quickset's blind mare.

Luc. Oh, then you have been?
Hodge. Yes, yes, I ha' been.

Luc. Pshaw! Why did not you say so

at once?

Hodge. Ay, but I have had a main tiresome jaunt on't, for she is a sorry jade at best. Luc. Well, well, did you see Mr. Eustace, and what did he say to you?-Come, quick— have you e'er a letter?

Hodge. Yes, he gave me a letter, if I ha'na' lost it.

Luc. Lost it, man!

Hodge. Nay, nay, have a bit of patience: adwawns, you are always in such a hurry [Rummaging his Pockets] I put it somewhere in this waiscoat pocket. Oh, here it is.

AIR.

Cupid, god of soft persuasion,
Take the helpless lover's part:
Seize, oh seize some kind occasion,
To reward a faithful heart.

Justly those we tyrants call,
Who the body would enthral;
Tyrants of more cruel kind,
Those, who would enslave the mind.
What is grandeur? foe to rest,
Childish mummery at best.
Happy I in humble state;
Catch, ye fools, the glittering bait.

SCENE III-A Field with a Stile.

the

Enter HODGE, followed by MADGE Hodge. What does the wench follow me for? Odds flesh, folk may well talk, to see you