University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

SCENE the Fields.
Young Freeman and Charlotte Briar.
Young Freeman.
Why, Charlotte, hangs this Melancholly on thee?
Why droops my Love? Why droops my ev'ry Flow'r
Compris'd in one? Why on this happy Day,
Indulgent to our Wish, wilt thou indulge
Unseasonable Sorrow? 'Tis unkind:
Why on this Day in which the pious Man
Has join'd in Wedlock's Bands the Hands of two
Whose Hearts by Love were long before united?

Charlotte.
Ah! Freeman, there's the Thorn that goads my Side.
I must confess, since first our mutual Vows
Were plighted, each Day seem'd to me an Age,
Till I secur'd you mine; and now I have
Obtain'd the Purchase of a thousand Sighs,
I have a thousand Fears of losing you.

Y. Freeman.
And whence arise those Fears? From no Distrust,
I hope, of one whose Honour's dearer to him
Than is his Life, of one who places you
In the same Ballance with his Life and Honour.

Charlotte.
No, my much lov'd, and ever honour'd, Husband,
I cannot entertain a Thought of Ill
Of you, yet when I think of my poor Father,
My Fears arise like an unfriendly Frost,
And seem to blight my Joys e'en in their Spring.

Y. Freeman.
Thou art the lovely'st Rose that ever blow'd.
'Tis true the Diff'rence which has long subsisted
Betwixt our Fathers is the only Cause
Why we have thus conceal'd our Passion from them,
And why we keep our Marriage still unknown;
But shou'd Dissention reign among our Parents,
And everlasting Strife be sow'd betwixt them,
Yet shall our Loves immaculate remain.
Banish all dismal Apprehensions from you:
Our Loves perhaps may take a happyer Turn,
And be the Cement of perpetual Union
Betwixt our present jarring Familys.
I know my Father's ever gentle Nature
Is prone to pardon Injurys, and to excuse
The little Failings of unwary Youth:
He looks not with the rigid Eye of Age,
But ever makes such kind Allowances
As by the wise and good are always made:
In short, I know that 'tis his greatest Pleasure
On all deserving Persons to bestow
What Happyness he can.

Charlotte.
Wou'd I cou'd say
The same of my unhappy Father! Then
My Bosom wou'd be free from many Fears
With which 'tis burden'd now: but he, poor Man,
Has by his froward Temper loss'd his Friends,
All, but his ever duteous Wife and Child;
And our Endeavours are to cheer his Days
With gentle Words and tender Offices:
But, my dear Freeman, let me now intreat you
To tell the Cause of the long Difference
Betwixt our Parents; for I never cou'd
Discover it at Home.

Y. Freeman.
'Twas on a Trespass;
For which we offer'd ample Recompence,
Which being not receiv'd, a Suit of Law
Commenc'd: your Father has already been
At more Expence than he can bear with Ease:
My Father has propos'd a Gentleman,
A Neighbour and a Person of known Worth,
To be the Arbitrator, and abide
By his Determination rather than
To feed Contention: and this is the Day
That was appointed for the Arbitration.

Charlotte.
Heav'n make it fortunate; for upon that,
I fear, our Fate, or mine at least, depends.

Y. Freeman.
Your Fate depends on me, and mine on you.
Presume not, Charlotte, to affront my Love
With a Distrust: 'tis of as pure a Sort
As is the Zeal of Saints who know no Sin.
My Father comes this Way: sweet Excellence,
Retire beneath these Shades, while I enquire
After the Arbitration, and th'Event,
And while I try the gentlest, best, of Fathers
With a Relation of my Passion for you:
As he receives it, and I know he will,
All corresponding with his Love to me,
I will soon after chuse a fav'ring Hour
In which I'll pour my tenderest Concerns,
Our marriage Vows, into his friendly Ear.

Charlotte.
Success and everlasting Love be with you.

[She retires.

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 the near me, as thou'rt near my Heart,
My Son, my best Companion, and my Friend.

Y. Freeman.
I owe you, Sir, more than is barely due
To the respectful Title of a Father.
Not once in five and twenty Years I've seen
The Shadow of the Hand of Rigour o'er me.
What I remember of my infant Days
Were all with Pleasure and with Fondness crown'd:
And while at College I pursued my Studys
Pleasures flow'd on me in a thousand Streams
From the rich Fountains of old Greece and Rome:
And now the Virtues of the best of Fathers,
The social Virtues, have bestow'd on me
All that I wish'd to meet with in a Friend.

Freeman senr.
Thou art the Harvest of my Life's long Toil;
And the rich Crop rewards my Labour well.

Y. Freeman.
Your Peace, Sir, is among my first Concerns,
I therefore shall be glad if you'll inform me
How the long Contest is at last determin'd.

Freeman senr.
To my Content, tho to my Cost: our Friend
Weldon, who was appointed Arbitrator,
Such is his Heart fraught with Benevolence,
Franckly propos'd to pay Half Briar's Charge,
Rather than see Contention kep'd alive
Betwixt two Neighbours, who shou'd live as Friends.
The generous Proposal was applauded;
But 'twas my Choice to pay the whole myself,
Hoping by that to gain a quiet Neighbour:
The poor Man hates me for no other Cause
But that I'm more successful than himself.

Y. Freeman.
Poor Charlotte, sweet and fair, thou faultless, Flow'r,
How much unlike the Stock from which you sprung!

Freeman Senr.
What maiden was it that I hear'd you name
In Terms so tender that I thought they spoke
Her Sov'reign of your Wishes and your Heart?

Y. Freeman.
'Twas Briar's Daughter, Sir.

Freeman senr.
Deal with me, Lewis,
As you wou'd with a Friend to whom you'd sworn
Inviolable Truth and Confidence;
And you shall find that open Heart in me,
And such an unreserv'd Regard, which you
Might justly hope to meet with in a Friend
Who had repos'd as dear a Trust in you.
Tho I have weather'd thro near sixty Years,
I've not forgot what the soft Passions are;
And I mistake, if still I cannot read
The Language of the Eyes; which is to me,
Who have pass'd thro the various Scenes of Love,
As legible as Characters in Gold.
I perceiv'd plainly, 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 which you desire to entertain:
If it is so, communicate to me;
And shew not that Reserv'dness in yourself,
Which you shall never find in me your Friend.

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
Enquire into them yet: what now I ask
Is your Consent to prosecute my Love:
That she is fair all who have Eyes can tell;
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 acknowledge that I think your Passion,
With all th'Extravagance of youthful Heat,
Can not describe her lovelyer than she is:
And, by the sacred Name of him that cloaths
The Earth with Beauty, and the Stars with Light,
Was she as poor as is the sunburn'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, my Son,
My own Felicity depends on thine.

Y. Freeman.
Then may that Son ne'er know the sweet Possession
Of her whom his Soul loves, if ever he
With his Consent shou'd give that Father Pain.

Freeman senr.
Yet, my dear Son, methinks there is a Bar,—
Nay, do not start: it is not such a Bar
As shall obstruct the End which you propose,
But may a-while delay the sweet Possession.
My Family is of a low Beginning:
My Forefathers seem to have been no more
Than lab'ring 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, my Person was the Theme
Of many a lovesic Maid and jealous Swain;
Yet, while my Ears were fill'd with my own Praise,
Nor Vanity, nor Pride, cou'd reach my Heart:
I flourish'd then in Man's Opinion fair.
Your Mother then was, like your Charlotte now,
The Virgin's Envy, and the Wish of Men:
Her Parents dy'd when she was young, and left her
Ten thousand Pounds: I was her partial Choice
Against the Approbation of her Friends:
Her Father was a Gentleman: on that
She has too often and too much presum'd.
Now to the End to which my Tale has led:
I doubt your Mother's Pride will make her start
Objections to the Match; but it shall never
Prevent it: what 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 try her with the Secret of your Love:
Perhaps you're bound another Way. Farewel:
My Blessing's ever with you.

[Freeman senr. goes.

SCENE III.

Charlotte enters.
Y. Freeman.
Best of Men;
Come forth, reveal thyself, thou happy Bride:
Come from the Covert, I'll pursue my Chace;
And thou, my lovely Game, shalt ev'ry Morn
Wake with the waking Day to Happyness.
My Father views thee with a Parent's Eye:
Now let the Bus'ness of our Lives be Love.

Charlotte.
I hear'd him pass the joyful Sentence on me.
My Task is now to come, to move my Father;
Whose great Necessity perhaps may prove
My greatest Blessing; for, so well I know him,
If he was able to bestow on me
A Portion equal to your own, he'd sooner
Match me below, and far below, myself
Than let me be the Wife of Freeman's Son.

Y. Freeman.
Come, my Charlotte, we'll go to him together,
Together we'll present ourselves to him
The fondest Pair that ever plighted Vows.
I'll save my charming Bride from the Confusion
Of telling the soft Story of her Passion:
I'll be myself the Orator of Love,
And tell our Tale in such a moving Strain,
As, was his Heart wrap'd in Siberian Snow,
Shou'd melt his frozen Breast: I'll paint a Prospect
Of Happyness to us and to himself,
And such a Prospect as should bribe him to us,
Was he as savage as th'Hyrcanian Tyger.
Throw into future Hours, my Love, thine Eyes,
And see what Scenes of Bliss before us rise,
Where Peace for ever dwells, nor enters Care,
And Love the little God that governs there.