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Mrs. Deb. You are a fool, brother; and mark my words-But I'll give myself no more trouble about you.

Haw. Fiddlers, strike up!

AIR.

Hence with cares, complaints, and frowning, Welcome jollity and joy;

Every grief in pleasure drowning,
Mirth this happy night employ:
Let's to friendship do our duty,
Laugh and sing some good old strain;
Drink a health to love and beauty-
May they long in triumph reign!

[Exeunt omnes.

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SCENE I-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
More than plenty and content

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 inutter? 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 have been of some use in the house; but, instead 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 night 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, sirrah. Ralph. A farmer's wife painting pictures, and playing on the hapsicols! 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 has 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 thec liquor, sirrab?

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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 my 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 swing

ing 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. So it is thought, as soon as things can be properly prepared- -And now, Patty, if I 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.

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Enter GILES.

Giles. Well, Master Fairfield, you and Miss Pat have had a long discourse together; did you tell her that I was come down?

Fair. No, in truth, friend Giles; but I mentioned our affair at a distance; and I think there is no fear.

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 lord 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 ali; or if she would bave 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 women's 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

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Fair. Well, well, never mind; thou'lt come and eat a morsel of dinner with us. Giles. Nay, but just to have a bit of a joke with her at present-Miss Pat, I say won't you open the door?

AIR.

Hark! 'tis I your own true lover,
After walking three long miles,
One kind look at least discover,
Come and speak a word to Giles.
You alone my heart I fix on :
Ah, you little cunning vixen!
I can see your roguish smiles.
Addslids! my mind is so possest,
Fill we're sped, I shan't have rest;
Only say the thing's a bargain.
Here an you like it,
Ready to strike it,

There's at once an end of arguing:
I'm hers, she's mine;

Thus we seal and thus we sign.

Enter PATTY.

[Exit.

Fair. Patty, child, why would'st not thou open the door for our neighbour Giles?

Pat. Really, father, I did not know what was the matter.

Fair. Well, another time; he'll be here again presently. He's gone up to the castle, Patty; thou know'st it would not be right for us to do any thing without giving his lordship intelligence; so I have sent the farmer to let him know, that he is willing, and we are willing; and with his lordship's approbation

Pat. What will become of me? My lord will certainly imagine this is done with my consentWell, is he not himself going to be married to s lady, suitable to him in rank, suitable to him in fortune, as this farmer is to me? and, under what pretence can I refuse the husband my father has found for me? shall I say that I have dared to raise my inclinations above my condition, and presumed to love, where my duty taught me only gratitude and respect? Alas! Who could live in the house with lord Aimworth, see him, converse with him, and not love him? I have this consolation, however, my folly is yet undiscovered to any; else, how should I be ridiculed and despised! nay, would not my lord himself despise me, especially, if he knew that I have more than once construed his natural affability and polite ness into sentiments as unworthy of him, as mine are bold and extravagant. Unexampled vanity! Did I possess any thing capable of attracting such a notice, to what purpose could a man of his distinction cast his eyes on a girl, poor, meanly born, and indebted for every thing to the l placed bounty of his family?

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Put. Oh, dear father, what are you going to SCENE II.-A chamber in LORD AIMWORTH'S

Say?

Fair. Nay, child, I would not have stirred a step for fifty pounds, without advertising his lordship before-hand.

Pat. But surely, surely, you have not done this rash, this precipitate thing.

Fair. How rash, how is it rash, Patty? I don't understand thee,

house.

Enter SIR HARRY SYCAMORE and THEODOSIA.

Sir Har. Well, but, Theodosia, child, you are quite unreasonable.

The Pardon me, papa, it is not I am unrea sonable: when I gave way to my inclinations for Mr. Mervin, he did not seem less agreeable to

Pat. Oh, you have distressed me beyond imagination! but why would you not give me 10-you and my mamma, than he was acceptable to tice? speak to me first? me. It is, therefore, you have been unreasona ble, in first encouraging his addresses, and afterwards forbidding him your house, in order to bring me down here, to force me on a gentle

Fair. Why, han't I spoken to thee a hundred times? No, Patty, 'tis thou that woulds't distress me, and thou'lt break my heart.

Pat. Dear father!

Fair. All I desire is, to see thee well settled; and now that I am likely to do so, thou art not contented. I am sure the farmer is as sightly a clever lad as any in the country; and is he not as good as we.

Pat. 'Tis very true, father; I am to blame; pray forgive me.

man

mean? By the la, I would not force you on the
Sir Har. Force you, Dossy! what do you
czar of Muscovy!

For though lord Aimworth is extremely attentive
The. And yet, papa, what else can you callit?
of the most ardent of lovers.
and obliging, I assure you he is by no means one

Fair. Forgive thee, Lord help thee, my child, Sir Har. Ardent! Ah, there it is; you girls I am not angry with thee; but quiet thyself, Pat-hugging; but you should consider, child, my lord never think there is any love, without kissing and ty, and thou'lt see all this will turn out for the Aimworth is a polite man, and has been abroad [Erit.in France and Italy, where these things are not

best.

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