University of Virginia Library

Scene.—An interior Apartment of the Castle.
Enter Magdeline and Constance.
Mag.
Go, seek my Lord, and say we wait his presence.
(Exit Constance.
Magdeline alone.
Why do I sigh? It is a foolish sorrow—
Teach me, my Father, to support my duty.
(Takes out a letter and reads.
“Child of my bosom! to whose grateful mind,
And lovely virtues of the soul, I owe
The dearest pleasures of my waning life;
Continue still as good as thou art beauteous.
How I have lov'd thee, lacks not testimony:
That I still love thee, thou may'st well believe.
Oh Magdeline! my joy, my comfort here!
Join to repay thy Father's gratitude.
Too long have we withstood Orlando's suit:
A fresh and noble instance of his bounty
Awakes our virtue, and demands return.
My child! thy Father's little farm is sold,
And his cot challeng'd o'er his dying head.
The base Ejector of my humble roof
Reposes on the count'nance of my Lord,
Enrag'd that we refuse his great alliance.
But nobly tow'ring o'er a mind so base,
My Lord has giv'n me warning of the deed;
His gen'rous purse is open to my wants,
And he hath vouch'd my right in noble letters
Sent to the Steward of the Court. Thy Mother,
Thy aged Mother too, is call'd away.
It is to save our little all we go,
And scarcely shall we be in time to meet
The saucy foe who summons us to answer.
We can no longer our consent withhold,
To make Orlando happy. Oh! reward him!
Fly to his arms without delay, and make
Oh! make our thanks substantial gratitude:
In time we will return to bless you both.”—
These are his words. Ah! fatal words to me.

Enter Orlando.
Mag.
My noble Lord, your friends propose to while
The time in walking through the Forest grounds,
And wait but your consent to join the band.

Orl.
It is my joy to yield me to thy wish:
But what, my Magdeline, with so much haste,
Dost thou conceal from thy Orlando's eye?

Mag.
My Father's letter, good my Lord—no more—
Wherein with grateful words he well records
Your noble bounty and beneficence.
How little able to repay is he!
Yet what he can, my Lord, he doth; and me,
Though poor of value in my own account,
He deems his treasure, and bestows it freely.
Come, shall we join our friends?

Orl.
Go on, my love;—
Triumphant Pleasure round thee plants his spell,
And where thou lead'st Delight and Love attend.

(Exeunt