University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Mrs. Briar enters.
Briar.
What have you done? Have you prevail'd upon the Girl
To bear her parting with a patient mind?

Mrs. Briar.
No: Freeman has lay'd so strong a hold upon her heart,
That neither you nor I can tare him thence.

Briar.
'Tis her first love; and it must cost some tears.
The girl is young, and therefore flexible:

That softness, on which with ease Freeman impress'd
his love, may, by judicious hands, be molded to another
shape.

Mrs. Briar.
It will be very hard, I fear, to find
An object that can drive him from her breast.
The youth is lovely in his person, and is,
By her account, possess'd of ev'ry art
To captivate the soul of innocence:
He has such virtues, and such qualitys,
Which ever must, she says, secure the heart
He has won.

Briar.
You seem to dwell upon his praise with pleasure:
That's not the end for which I sent for you.

What?—You, I suppose, indulge her in her commendations

of him: are those the means you use to
make her think of him no more?

Mrs. Briar.

Reproach me not with faults of which I am not guilty.
—I have exerted all the authority which a mother
ought: I have us'd all the persuasions which I think are
just: yet I wou'd not use authority with cruelty; nor
wou'd I persuade my child to that which may make all
her future life unhappy, and make that life perhaps but
short.

(She weeps.
Briar.

This is a plot against me: you are in Freeman's Interest
I see. You practise on me with your pray'rs and
tears. You did prevail last night; and I consented that
she shou'd stay; but it was with the hope that you
wou'd not abuse the indulgence which I shew'd, and
that you wou'd endeavour to bring her to obedience to
my will.—However, now I'll ease you of the task:
the journey is but short, I'll to my brother's go with
her myself, and see her marry'd before I leave the place.

Mrs. Briar.

If ever I found favour in your eyes, or if I ever have
deserv'd your love, hear me this once, hear a tender
mother and a faithful wife.

Briar.
Be quick; I can not hear long speeches now.

Mrs. Briar.
This once, and I have done.
If to your brother's son you wed our child,
You marry poverty to beggary,
And make the girl a slave, a wretched slave,
Match'd to an abject clown that she abhors:
Think therefore, for I know you love her well,
How you can bear to see her live a poor
Unhappy wife, a stranger to content!
And if her life's cut short, which heav'n forbid,
By grief, how will you then bedew her cheeks
With tears, with fruitless tears!
Now turn your eye, from this dark dismal prospect,
To the fair scene which Freeman's love presents:
The husband of her choice will crown her days
With tenderness and joy; and we perhaps
May share their fortunes as we share their love.
Distress, that seems approaching to our door,
May by this match be drove entirely from us.
I've done; and now
The language of my heart has pass'd my lips,
I'm all obedience to my husband's will.

Briar.

(They go.