University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Chace.
Enter Harrol.
Har.
AIR.
Enter Hempskirke.

Hemp.
Well, sir,
You shall not long be troubled, draw.

Har.
'Tis done, and now—

Hemp.
Now!

[Enter boors, and seize Harrol; then enter beggars, who release him, and take captive the boors, and Hempskirke.]
Har.
What these men are, I know not; nor for what cause
They thus should thrust themselves into my danger,
Can I imagine; but, kind Heaven, I thank thee;
I hope thou hast reserv'd me for an end
Fit for thy creature, worthy of thy honour.

Enter Clause.
Clause.
Blessings upon you, master!

Har.
Thank you, leave me;
For, by my troth, I've nothing now to give thee.

Clause.
Indeed, I don't ask, sir; only it grieves me
To see you look so sad—now goodness keep you
From troubles in your mind! why look you so?

Har.
Faith, thou must lose thy master.

Clause.
I'd rather lose my life, sir: would I knew—

Har.
What would the knowledge profit thee? so miserable
Thou canst not help thyself?

Clause.
You do not know, sir,
What I can do; cures for our cares sometimes
Flow whence we least expect 'em.

Har.
I know thy good will;
But, farewell, Clause, and pray for thy poor master.

Clause.
I cannot leave you.

Har.
How!

Clause.
I dare not leave you, sir; I must not leave you;
And, till you beat me dead, I will not leave you.
By all you hold most precious, good sir, tell me
The cause of this your grief; my mind suggests,
That something's in my power may ease you of it.

Har.
AIR.

Clause.
I cannot blame your grief, sir.

Har.
Now, what say'st thou?

Clause.
I say you should not shrink; for he who gave you
Can give you more; his power can bring you off:
When friends and all forsake you, still he sees you.

Har.
There's all my hope.

Clause.
Hope still, sir—are you ty'd
Within the compass of a day, good master,
To pay this mass of money?

Har.
Even to-morrow.

Clause.
Will no less serve?

Har.
What if it would?

Clause.
Your patience!
I do not ask to mock you; 'tis a great sum;
A sum for mighty men to start and pause at,
But not for honest—have you no friends left,
None, who have felt your bounty, worth this duty?

Har.
Duty! they know it not.

Clause.
It is a duty,
And as a duty from those men you've succour'd,
Should be return'd again. I have gain'd by you
A daily alms, these seven years shower'd upon me.
Will half supply your want?

Har.
Oh! that I had it! yet why dost thou fool me?
Canst thou work miracles?

Clause.
To save my master,
I can work this. Pull up your spirit, sir,
Your good, your honest, and your noble spirit;
For if the fortunes of ten thousand people
Can save you, rest assured: you have forgot
The good you did me in the power you gave me;
Now shall you know the king of beggar's treasure;
And let the winds blow as they list, the seas roar,
Within an hour, here shall you find your harbour.
The joy of giving, my thrice gracious master,
In all its nicest sense you've oft explor'd:
But say, what think you, is his joy, whose power
And will unite to raise his benefactor,
Should rude misfortune sink him?

Har.
The supreme
Of earthly happiness.

Clause.
Enough.
Ere night descend, that happiness shall be mine;
So pass in peace, my best, my worthiest master.
[Exit Clause.

Har.
AIR.

[Exit.