Love the Cause and Cure of Grief, or The Innocent Murderer | ||
SCENE I.
Briar's House.Briar and Charlotte.
Briar.
Yes, Charlotte, yes, my Child, to make you happy,
I'll curb my Rage, I'll bridle up my Hate:
The bitter Indignation, which I bear
To Freeman, is not level'd at his Son:
I will love him, my Girl, for loving you.
Charlotte.
O! may your Days be long, and prosp'rous all!
He surely is the sweetest, gentlest, Youth,
That ever trod the Plains, or woo'd a Maid.
Briar.
Daughter, I freely must confess to you,
That I ne'er thought 'twas in the Pow'r of Words
To throw my Temper into such a Mold,
As the young Man has lately fram'd it to:
20
And made me wish the Son of Freeman well.
Charlotte.
What do my Eyes behold? My Freeman's Mother!
Come, I suppose, to bless me with her Voice:
I shall grow mad with Joy.
Briar.
Does the proud Dame
Once condescend to enter Briar's Roof!
Love the Cause and Cure of Grief, or The Innocent Murderer | ||