University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

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:
His Language found a Passage to my Heart,
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!

SCENE II.

Mrs. Freeman enters.
Briar.
Madam, this unexpected Visit here—

Mrs. Freeman.
No slight Occasion wou'd have brought me here.
My Husband has inform'd me that my Son
Has, in the lavish Moments of his Love,
Made to your Girl an Off'ring of his Heart.

Briar.
And you are come to make us sensible
Of the great Honour which you now intend us.

Mrs. Freeman.
An Honour that's too great for you or her.

Briar.
Believe me, Madam, you are too presuming.
Whate'er your Bus'ness is, tell it in Words
As plain as is the Man to whom you speak.

Charlotte.
O! my poor Heart on what a Wreck thou'rt thrown!

(To herself.
Mrs. Freeman.
Then plainly my Design is this, to tell you
That your Thoughts soar above your low Condition.
Whate'er my Son's misguided Love may be,
Whate'er his Father's Resolution is,
Your Daughter ne'er must wed a Son of mine.
Look round about you, and you soon may find
A Husband for the Girl that suits her Birth
Among the lab'ring honest Hinds of Kent.

Charlotte.
Alas! whatever is my humble Lot,
Eternal Blessings be on Freeman's Head!

[She weeps.
Briar.
Waste not a Tear, my Child.—Woman be gone;
Civility to thee wou'd be a Crime.
Know that my Daughter, cloath'd by Nature's Hand
With artless Beauty, and adorn'd with Truth
And Modesty, wou'd grace thy Family
With such a Picture of the female Sex
As never yet it saw.

Mrs. Freeman.
I tell thee, Man—

Briar.
I tell thee, Woman, I will hear no more.
Your own unmeaning Pride was the first Cause
Of all my Hate to Freeman's Family,
Which has encreas'd with Time, and now is fix'd,
Fast as the Roots of Oaks, in Briar's Heart.
As for my Child, she shall this Day be sent
Where Freeman's Son shall ne'er behold her more.
Away, my Ears are deaf to your Reply.

[He thrusts her out.

SCENE III.

Charlotte.
My Father, O! my ever honour'd Father,
Let not your Resolution made in Anger
Destroy the Peace, and break the tender Heart,
Of your much lov'd, and ever loving, Daughter,
In your Resentment to a haughty Woman.

Briar.
Did she not treat that Daughter with Disdain?
I never will forgive th'insulting Dame:
If you're desirous of a Father's Love,
Banish young Freeman from your Breast forever.

Charlotte.
Impute not to my Freeman, my dear Freeman,
A Fault that's not his own, no Part his own:
I dare engage, for him and for his Father,
That neither gave Consent to what she has done:
Unknown to them, she rashly has pursued
The Dictates of her Pride and settled Hate.

Briar.
Then from that Pride and settled Hate shall grow
Plagues which shall taint her ev'ry Hour of Life.
I'll send you to your Uncle: his Regard
For you will equal mine: he has a Son,
Who long has view'd you with a Lover's Eye,
Whose Honesty and Industry will make you
A joyful Mother and a happy Wife.

Charlotte.
O! name no Husband for your Child but Freeman:
I have a Reason, Sir, which I cou'd give,
That wou'd disarm you of your Rage, and change
Your Resolution.—Look on me with Pity:
I cannot leave my Love, nor wou'd offend
My Father whom I love.—O! woeful Case!
Here comes my Advocate; to whom I fly
For Refuge; in whose Breast I must repose
The Secret of our Marriage.

SCENE IV.

Mrs. Briar enters.
Charlotte.
Dearest Mother,
O! help to break the Storm that's low'ring o'er me:
My unkind Father, tho he means me well,
Is tearing me from all that I hold dear
On Earth, except himself and you, he threatens
To rend me from my Freeman, from my Love.

Mrs. Briar.
With the Submission of an humble Wife,
With Earnestness I now intreat my Husband
To recollect the Vows he pay'd to me.
Had I, when of our Daughter's Age, been torn
From you, I shou'd not now, so well I know
My Heart, have liv'd to intercede for her.

Briar.
Dost thou imagine that thou lov'st the Girl
Better than I, or dost thou think thyself
More wise and able to contrive her Good
Than is thine Husband?

Mrs. Briar.
I am not so vain,
(For humble as my Fortune is my Mind,)
I'm not so vain, I say, to think myself
So wise and able to contrive as you;
Nor do I think my Love exceeds your own
For our dear Child; but I believe I know
The painful Workings of her tender Heart,
By what I well remember to have felt
Myself for you.

Briar.
Tho you do thwart my Will,
I cannot hate you; for you've always been
A good and an obedient Wife.

Charlotte.
Heaven give
Her Words Success.

[Aside.
Briar.
But if I once resolve,
Your Words are spent in vain, idly they pass
Like gentle Winds over the standing Corn,
Ruffle the Ears, but leave no Trace behind.
My Brother's Son shall make her soon a Bride:
I'm going to prepare her for her Journey;
Do you prepare the Girl to bear it well.

[He goes.

SCENE V.

Mrs. Briar.
I wou'd persuade you to your Ease, my Child:
And, if there is a Way to shun the Match
Which in his Rage your Father has propos'd,
I will assist you with a Mother's Zeal,
While I can act consistent with the Duty
Of Parent and of Wife.

Charlotte.
Then I've some Hopes.
Let us retire into your Chamber: there
I will relate to you the Secret which
I dread to tell my Father in his Anger:
There I'll describe to you the lovely'st Youth,
That ever fill'd a Virgin's Ear with Truth.

[They go.

SCENE VI.

Freeman's House.
Freeman senr. Mrs. Freeman, and young Freeman.
Y. Freeman.
'Tis cruel, Madam, 'tis unmercyful,
Thus to afflict, to torture thus, the Heart
Of an obedient and a tender Son;
But I'll complain no more of your Unkindness:
Charlotte I come once more to try the Art
Of soft Persuasion, which my Love inspires.

[He goes.

SCENE VII.

Freeman senr.
Ungenerous Dame, look backward to the Day
In which I first engag'd my Love to you,
And say if you can call to Mind a Moment
In which I ever cross'd your Purposes.
Your Beautys, whose Attraction once was great,
Have suffer'd not but by the Hand of Time:
Care never prey'd upon your rosy Cheeks;
Nor have your Eyes e'er met an angry Brow
From me till now: all your Inclinings I
Have always with a lib'ral Heart indulg'd:
Say, is it therefore kind, or honourable,
Thus to proclaim an open War with me,
To fight against my Will in an Affair
On which depends our Son's Felicity?

Mrs. Freeman.
The Honour of my Family's concern'd:
Why shou'd my Blood contaminate itself,
By mixing with so low and vile a Race,
If I am able to prevent the Evil?

Freeman senr.
That Pride, unsocial and unmeaning Pride,
Shou'd thus survive the Mem'ry of your Love!
Presume to talk of Family no more;
That has been bandy'd in my Ear too long:
Our Currents, which have thirty Years been join'd,
Make but one Stream in him. Have you forgot
That your Son's Case was once your own? If you
Forget, I'll wake that Nature in your Breast
Which you shou'd ne'er have suffer'd to have sleep'd.

Mrs. Freeman.
I never saw this Rage in him before.
[To herself.
I can receive Rebuke, or hear Advice,
If you deliver it with a softer Voice.

Freeman senr.
You've been unus'd to my Rebuke, and deaf,
Deaf as the Adder, to your Husband's Voice,
When he advis'd you; therefore when the Peace,
The Interest, of my Family's concern'd,
I must not, as in slight Affairs I've done,
Suffer your Pride and Humours to direct,
Where Honour and where Wisdom shou'd preside.

Mrs. Freeman.
I see my Error, (nor too late I hope,)
And earnestly repent my late Misdoings.
Your former Lenity and Tenderness
Convince me of your Goodness and your Love:
If you'll forget, or if you can forgive,
All my pass'd Conduct which has giv'n you Pain,
My ev'ry Hour to come shall all be pass'd
In humble Resignation to your Will,
And in Submission, an unfeign'd Submission,
To your superior Wisdom and your Pow'r.

Freeman senr.
Divested of your Pride, and cloath'd with Truth,
And with the Saint's Attire Humility,
You are as lovely to my Eyes as when
I led you blushing to the bridal Bed.
Wou'd Woman learn what is her lovely'st Dress,
She wou'd not wish to make Admirers gaze
At the rich Tissue, or the Di'mond's Blaze:
In humble Beauty cloath'd, her best Attire,
She'd either keep alive, or wake, Desire.

[They go.

SCENE VIII.

Briar's House.
Y. Freeman and Briar.
Y. Freeman.
Once more I tell you, Sir, with Truth assure you,
That what my Mother did was all unknown
To us.

Briar.
It may be so; yet shall my Child
Ne'er be subjected to her hateful Pride,
Who, in her peevish Moods, wou'd ev'ry Day
Upbraid her with her Father's Lowlyness;
And who wou'd let her know that all she wears
Is but the Badge of Charity. Rather
Than match my Girl to Wretchedness like that,
I'd throw her on the barren Heath to dwell
In a poor homely Hut, thatch'd by the Hands
Of her laborious Husband, whose hard Toil
Shou'd be their chief Support, while she at Home
Plys, from the morning to the ev'ning Sun,
The Spinning-Wheel, a constant household Drudge.

Y. Freeman.
My Mother now repents her Rashness, and
Wishes to call your Child her own.

Briar.
Which she
Shall never do: I thank her for her Visit;
For she by that has shew'd me what a Fury
My poor Child has escap'd.

Y. Freeman.
With the Respect
Due to the Fountain of my Charlotte's Life—

Briar.
Your Eloquence, young Man, will now be vain:
All you can say to me no more can move me
Than can contending Winds remove a Mountain.

Y. Freeman.
Since my Intreatys fail, I must demand.
Restore to me my Wife, my Virgin Wife,
Whom yester Sun, with an unclouded Face,
Beheld in Wedlock's Bands to Freeman join'd.

Briar.
O! this is well, you pillage first my Fold,
And then with an undaunted Brow demand
The Lamb that I've retaken from the Thief.
The Negligence with which you've treated me,
By daring to seduce my Child to Marriage,
Without so much as asking my Consent,
Shews me in what mean Light you place her Father:
But know, unthinking Youth, this Disrespect
Throws thee as far from my Regard as is
The West from East; and I will part my Daughter,
If I am able, I will part her from you,
As far asunder as the North and South.

Y. Freeman.
You can as soon drive from the Stars their Brightness,
As from my Charlotte's Thoughts expel her Freeman;
Where-e'er she is, she will be always mine;
You can as soon make Vice and Virtue one,
As you can make my lov'd, my faithful, Bride
Bestow her Heart or Hand on any other:
She is my Wife, and, dow'rless as she is,
More lov'd by me than by the Eye the Light,
Or by the Ear than is the Charmer's Voice:
I go, but I shall come to you again,
And make you render up a true Account
Of the great Treasure you withhold from me.

[He goes.

SCENE IX.

Briar.
Young Freeman and my Daughter have not yet
Consummated their Loves; without Delay
Charlotte shall therefore wed my Brother's Son.

SCENE X.

Mrs. Briar enters.
Briar.
What have you done? Have you prevail'd on her
To bear her parting with a patient Mind?

Mrs. Briar.
So strong a Hold has Freeman on her Heart,
That neither you nor I can tear him thence.

Briar.
'Tis her first Love, and it must cost some Tears.

Mrs. Briar.
The Youth is lovely in his Person, and,
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
Which he by Tenderness and Honour won.

Briar.
You seem to dwell upon his Praise with Pleasure.—
You, I suppose, indulge the foolish Girl
In her fond Commendations of her Lover.—

Mrs. Briar.
I have exerted all th'Authority
Which, in a Case like this, a Mother ought;
All the Persuasions which I think are just
I've us'd, yet wou'd not use Authority
With Cruelty, nor wou'd persuade my Child
To that which may make all her future Life
Unhappy, and perhaps that Life but short.

Briar.
The Journey is not long, I'll to my Brother's
Go with the Girl myself, and see her marry'd
Before I leave the Place.

Mrs. Briar.
If ever I
Found Favour in your Eyes, if ever I
Have merited your Love, hear me this once
A tender Mother, and a faithful Wife.

Briar.
Be quick; I cannot hear long Speeches now.

Mrs. Briar.
This once, excuse my Tears, 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 Heaven forbid,
By Grief, how will you then bedew her Cheeks
With Tears, with frantic and 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; I'll trouble you no more; and now
The Language of my Heart has pass'd my Lips,
I'm all Obedience to my Husband's Will.

Briar.
Thou tenderest Mother, and thou gentlest Wife,
That ever bless'd a Husband and a Child,
Lead in thy silken Bands this savage Man.
Thou last subdu'd me to thy Wish. Stand there,
And let me view the Treasure of my Soul,
Above all Price, to which I never ow'd
A restless Night, or an unpeaceful Day.
Fortune may throw her keenest Arrows here,
While you, the dear Physician of my Mind,
Shall heal the Wounds and Bruises which they give.
By that high Providence which gave thee to me,
I wou'd not for all Freeman's Wealth, nor for
The wide, the fruitful, and the rich, Possession
Of ev'ry Hill, and Grove, and Vale, in Kent,
Give up the Title that I have in thee.
Come, my sweet Monitor, my humble Guide,
Now you've subdued my Heart, direct my Hand;
For I'll this very Moment write to Freeman,
And offer your Proposals for the Marriage.

[They go.

SCENE XI.

Freeman's House.
Y. Freeman.
Hark! is not that the Charmer's Voice afar,
That crys, come Freeman, haste to rescue me,
And snatch me from the Snares which now surround me!
I come, O! Nymph divine, to seize my Right,
Resolv'd to bear away my lovely Prize,
Or perish in th'Attempt.

[As he goes towards the Door, Charlotte enters.

SCENE XII.

Y. Freeman.
Ah! is the Cloud,
That hover'd o'er my Head, so soon dispers'd?
It is, it is, and ev'ry Mist expel'd;
And the gay Sun breaks brighter on my Eye.
See the dear Angel of my Comfort comes!
Say, heav'nly Fair, tell me, thou faithful Bride,
By what assisting Pow'r you broke the Toils
Which my Foes pitch'd for you, and shun'd their Hands,
To find your constant and your tender Mate?

Charlotte.
I wanted, and I sought, no Pow'r but Love
To guide me to my faithful Freeman's Arms.
Your gentle Father, when I enter'd here,
Gave me a Welcome, call'd me lovely Guest,
And say'd, go in, and find one that will give
You as much Comfort as you bring to him.

Y. Freeman.
You shall find Comfort and a Welcome here:
I'll be the Castle of my Love's Defence.

SCENE XIII.

Freeman senr. enters with a Letter in his Hand.
Freeman senr.
Hail my lov'd Son, and my lov'd Daughter hail:
The Storm which held ye from the wish'd-for Shore
Is lay'd, and an unruffled Calm succeeds.

Y. Freeman.
Bless'd as I am, I'm sure my Father brings
Some heav'nly Tidings to enhance my Joy.

Charlotte.
As from a Night pass'd in uneasy Dreams,
I see the Dawning of a cheerful Morn.

Freeman senr.
Here, Lewis, take and read it to your Wife;
And pour into her Ear a Balm that soon
Will reach her tender Heart, and cure what Pains
May still be lurking in it.

Young Freeman
reads the Letter.
Sir, the Ills
Of Fortune, and the reasonable Persuasions
Of her whom I must call the best of Wives,
Join'd with a warm Affection for my Daughter,
Have brought me to a Sense of my Mistake,
When I oppos'd a Match on which depends
The Happyness of my dear Child. I don't
Presume to make any Proposals to you:
To you and your Family I commend her:
With a free Heart I give the Girl; and I
Shall yield myself contented to the Grave,
Whene'er the Day shall come that calls me there,
Being satisfy'd that I have made her happy
By this last Act of mine. My heart is now
Divested of all Enmity to you:
May with your Years your Happyness encrease,
Whate'er shall be the future Lot of Briar.

Charlotte
looks into the Letter.
'Tis my dear Father's Hand, and Blessings on him!
Excuse my Tears; for they are Tears of Joy.

Y. Freeman.
O! my much lov'd, and much deserving, Charlotte,
This Change, so unexpected, in your Father
Commands my Admiration and my Love:
I'm restless till I clasp him to my Breast,
And let him know how much he shares my Heart.

Freeman senr.
I'll rise To-morrow with the Sun, and pay
An early Visit to my Brother, and
I'll greet him truly with a Brother's Love:
I'll clear the Brow of Need; the Ills of Fortune,
Which he complains of, I will soon remove:
I will prevail on him, and on his Wife,
That fair Example of connubial Love,
To come and pass the joyful Day with us.
The merry Bells shall wake the cheerful Morn,
And call the Neighbours round to Freeman's Hall;
There shall they feast, and quaff the plenteous Juice,
Wishing the lovely Bride and Bridegroom Joy.
My Wife and I will, with unsparing Hands,
Attend our welcome Guests, and let no want
Of nuptial Merryment disgrace the Day.

Y. Freeman.
Now, Charlotte, thou art mine, and I am thine,
By ev'ry Ty of Duty and of Love.
What to our Parents do we owe? Our Lives,
And, what's more precious, that our Lives are bless'd.
When o'er the spacious Globe my Eyes I throw,
And view the various Sons of Pow'r below,
The fertile Soils where mighty'st Monarchs reign,
O'er eastern Beautys, and th'extended Plain,
I wou'd not change, to be of all possess'd,
The lovelyer Empire of my Charlotte's Breast.