University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Freeman senr. enters.
Freeman senr.
I greet thee, Lewis, with a father's love;
And, whether 'tis design, or chance, that throws thee in my way,
I always count it gain to have thee near me,
My son, my best companion, and my friend.

Y. Freeman.

I owe you, Sir, more than is barely due to a parent:
not once in five and twenty years I've seen the hand of
rigour o'er me.

What I remember of my infant days
Were all with pleasure and with fondness crown'd:

While at school, I thought I chang'd one father for another,
if I was to judge from the tenderness of my master;
which I imputed, more than to any merit of my
own, to the strict charge my loving father gave concerning
me. At college pleasures flow'd on me, in a
thousand streams,
From the rich fountains of old Greece and Rome:
And now the social Virtues of the best of fathers present
to me all that I cou'd wish to meet with in a friend.

Freeman senr.

If these are your sentiments, as I have no reason to
think they are not, I am bless'd beyond my expectations
in a son.

Thou art the harvest of my life's long toil;
And the rich crop rewards my labour well.

Y. Freeman.

As your peace, Sir, is one of my first concerns, I shall
be glad to know how the affair betwixt you and our
neighbour Briar is determin'd.

Freeman senr.

To my content, tho to my cost: Mr. Weldon,
our friend and arbitrator, propos'd paying half Briar's
expence in the suit, which he has litigiously carry'd
on, rather than see contention betwixt two neighbours
kep'd alive: the generous proposal was applauded;
but I chose to pay the whole myself, hoping by that
to purchase a quiet neighbour, a friend he is incapable
of being: the man is poor, and seems to hate me for
no other reason but that I'm more successful than himself?

Y. Freeman.

Weak man that can indulge a temper which makes him
wretched! 'Tis planting thorns and brambles in his
breast! Poor lovely Charlotte, how much unlike
the stock from which you sprung!

Freeman senr.

What maid is that whom you nam'd in such tender
terms?

Y. Freeman.
'Tis Briar's daughter, Sir.

Freeman senr.

I thought it was the same. Come, Lewis, deal with
me as a friend, to whom you had sworn inviolable
truth and confidence; and you shall find that open
heart, and unreserv'd regard, which you might reasonably
expect from such a friend, who had plighted the
same faith to you. Tho I have weather'd thro near
fifty years, I have not yet forgot what the soft passions
are; and I mistake if still I cannot read the language

of the eyes. I observ'd, when you nam'd the maid,

That change of countenance, and change of voice,
Which tell me that your bosom has receiv'd
A guest that you desire to entertain:
If it is so, communicate to me;

And give me no room to complain of a reserv'dness in
you which you shall never find in me.

Y. Freeman.
No, be my love my curse, if e'er I wrong
So good a father, and so true a friend:

There are some errors pass'd; but, by the friendship
which you profess to me, I beg you wou'd not now
enquire into them: what I at present ask

Is your consent to prosecute my love:
That she is fair all who have eyes can tell;
And she is chaste as is the falling snow:
She has such virtues to adorn her life,
As in themselves will be an ample dow'r.

Freeman senr.
I've often seen the girl, and mark'd her well.

And I must acknowledge that I think your passion can
not paint her more beautyful than she is:

And, by the sacred name of him that cloaths
The earth with beauty, and the sun with light,
Was she as poor as is the sun-burn'd wench
That stoops to take the gleanings of my fields,
I wou'd myself perform the father's office,

And give her hand to thee, so much does Freenan's
happyness depend upon his son's.

Y. Freeman.

Then may that son ne'er know the sweet possession of his
love, if ever willingly he gives that father pain.

Freeman senr.

Yet, my son, methinks there is a bar—Nay, do not
start: it is not such a bar as shall obstruct your love,
but may awhile delay the sweet possession. You know

my family is but of a low beginning: my forefathers
seem never to have been more than poor inhabitants of
Kent, the humble tillers of another's land; and all my
heritage was the long lease which has been oft' renew'd
from son to son. When I was young the neighbours
were pleas'd to cry my person up; and I always had,
what I always strove to deserve, the character of an
honest man. Your mother, whose fortune was five
thousand pounds, was marry'd to me against the consent
of her friends: her father was a gentleman: on
that she has too much presum'd; but I, who knew
that words cou'd ne'er infect my meat or drink, bore
the woman's foolish vanity, as I wou'd the chattering of
the daw, ne'er contradict it: but to the purpose more:
I doubt your mother's pride will make her start objections
to the match; but it never shall obstruct it wholly:
all that I mean is, for her peace, to use some art to
draw her gently in to give consent. I'm going home;
and there I'll break the secret to her first: you perhaps
are going another way: my blessing is ever with
you.

(Freeman senr. goes.