Rosina (1782)

Act I


Scene opens and discovers a rural prospect: on the left side a little hill with trees at the top; a spring of water rushes from the side, and falls into a natural bason below: on the right side a cottage, at the door of which is a bench of stone. At a distance a chain of mountains. The manor-house in view. A field of corn fills up the scene.		Q
In the first act the sky clears by degrees, the morning vapour disperses, the sun rises, and at the end of the act is above the horizon: at the beginning of the second he is past the height, and declines till the end of the day. This progressive motion should be made imperceptibly, but its effect should be visible through the two acts.

Scene I	The day begins to break; a few stars still appear; after the trio, the sun is seen to rise. The door of the cottage is open, a lamp burning just within. Dorcas, seated on the bench, is spinning; Rosina and Phœbe, just within the door, are measuring a bushel of corn; William comes from the top of the stage; they sing the following trio.	Dorcas, Rosina, Phœbe <- William

	WILLIAM, ROSINA, PHŒBE When the rosy morn appearing paints with gold the verdant lawn, bees, on banks of thyme disporting, sip the sweets, and hail the dawn. Warbling birds, the day proclaiming, carol sweet the lively strain; they forsake their leasy dwelling, to secure the golden grain. Set, content, the humble gleaner, take the scatter'd ears that fall! Nature, all her children viewing, kindly bounteous, cares for all.

	(William retires.)	William ->

ROSINA	See! my dear Dorcas, what we glean'd yesterday in mr. Belville's fields!
	(Coming forward, and shewing the corn at the door.)
DORCAS	Lord love thee! but take care of thyself: thau art but tender.
ROSINA	Indeed it does not hurt me. Shall I put out the lamp?
DORCAS	Do, dear: the poor must be sparing.
	(Rosina going to put out the lamp, Dorcas looks after her and sighs, she returns hastily.)
ROSINA	Why do you sigh, Dorcas?
DORCAS	I canno' bear it: it's nothing to Phœbe and me, but thou wast not born to labour.
	(Rising and pushing away the wheel.)
ROSINA	Why should I repine? Heaven, which deprived me of my parents and my fortune, left me health, content, and innocence. Nor is it certain that riches lead to happiness. Do you think the nightingale sings the sweeter for being in a gilded cage?
DORCAS	Sweeter, I'll maintain it, than the poor little linnet which thou pick'st up half starv'd under the hedge yesterday, after its mother had been shot, and brought'st to life in thy bosom. Let me speak to his honour, he's main kind to the poor.
ROSINA	Not for worlds, Dorcas, I want nothing: you have been a mother to me.
DORCAS	Wou'd I cou'd! wou'd I cou'd! I ha' work'd hard and 'arn'd money in my time; but now I am old and feeble, and am push'd about by every body. Because I, this summer, am turn'd of fourscore they flout me, and lay straws across at my door: the bairns, wicked bairns! both at church and at green, make faces, and jeer; 'tis a shame to be seen. Where I go, I'm the jest of the lads and the lasses; tis thus, in life's winter, a woman's time passes. More's the pity, I say: it was not so in my young time; but the world grows wickeder every day.
ROSINA	Your age, my good Dorcas, requires rest: go into the cottage, whilst Phœbe and I join the gleaners, who are assembling from every part of the village.
DORCAS	Many a time have I carried thy dear mother, an infant, in these arms: little did I think a child of her's would live to share my poor pittance. - But I wo'not grieve thee.
	(Dorcas enters the cottage, looking back affectionately at Rosina.)	Dorcas ->

PHŒBE	What makes you so melancholy, Rosina? Mayhap it's because you have not a sweetheart? But you are so proud you won't let our young men come a-near you. You may live to repent being so scornful.

[Air]		N
	When William, at eve, meets me down at the stile, how sweet is the nightingale's song! Of the day I forget all the labour and toil, whilst the moon plays you branches among. By her beams, without blushing, I hear him complain, and believe every word of his song: you know not how sweet 'tis to love the dear swain, whilst the moon plays you branches among.	S (♦) (♦)
	(During the last stanza William appears at the end of the scene, and makes signs to Phœbe, who, when it is finished, steals softly to him, and they disappear.)	<- William William, Phœbe ->

ROSINA	How small a part of my evils is poverty! And how little does Phœbe know the heart she thinks insensible! the heart which nourishes a hopeless passion. I blest, like others, Belville's gentle virtues, and knew not that 'twas love. Unhappy! lost Rosina!

[Air]		N
	The morn returns, in saffron drest, but not to sad Rosina rest. The blushing morn awakes the strain, awakes the tuneful choir, but sad Rosina ne'er again shall strike the sprightly lyre.

RUSTIC (Between the scenes.)	To work, my hearts of oak, to work; here the sun is half an hour high, and not a stroke struck yet.

Enters singing, followed by Reapers.		<- Rustic, Reapers

[Air]		N

RUSTIC	See, ye swains, yon streaks of red call you from your slothful bed: late you till'd the fruitful soil; see! where harvest crowns your toil!
CHORUS OF REAPERS	Late you till'd the fruitful soil; see! where harvest crowns your toil!
RUSTIC	As we reap the golden corn, laughing plenty fills her born: what would gilded pomp avail should the peasant's labour fail?
CHORUS OF REAPERS	What would gilded pomp avail should the peasant's labour fail?
RUSTIC	Ripen'd fields your cares repay, sons of labour, haste away; bending, see the waving grain crown the year, and chear the swain.
CHORUS OF REAPERS	Bending, see the waving grain, crown the year, and chear the swain.

RUSTIC	Hist! there's his honour. Where are all the lazy Irishmen I hir'd yesterday at market?

Enter Belville, followed by two Irishmen and Servants.		<- Belville, 1st Irishman, 2nd Irishman, servants

1ST IRISHMAN	Is it us he's talking of, Paddy? Then the devil may thank him for his good commendations.
BELVILLE	You are too severe, Rustic, the poor fellows came three miles this morning; therefore I made them stop at the manor-house to take a little refreshment.
1ST IRISHMAN	God love your sweet face, my jewel, and all those that take your part. Bad luck to myself if I would not, with all the veins of my heart, split the dew before your feet in a morning.
RUSTIC (to Belville)	If I do speak a little cross, it's for your honour's good.
	(The Reapers cut the corn, and make it into sheaves. Rosina follows, and gleans.)
RUSTIC (seeing Rosina)	What a dickens does this girl do here? Keep back: wait till the reapers are off the field, do like the other gleaners.
ROSINA (timidly)	If I have done wrong, sir, I will put what I have glean'd down again.
	(She lets fall the ears she had glean'd.)
BELVILLE	How can you be so unfeeling, Rustic? she is lovely, virtuous, and in want. Let fall some ears, that she may glean the more.
RUSTIC	Your honour is too good by half.
BELVILLE	No more: gather up the corn she has let fall. Do as I command you.
RUSTIC	There, take the whole field, since his honour chuses it.
	(Putting the corn into her apron.)
ROSINA	I will not abuse his goodness.
	(Retires gleaning.)
2ND IRISHMAN	Upon my soul now, his honour's no churl of the wheat, whatever he may be of the barley.
BELVILLE (looking after Rosina)	What bewitching softness! There is a blushing, bashful, gentleness, an almoft infantine innocence in that lovely countenance, which it is impossible to behold without emotion! She turns this way: what bloom of that cheek! 'Tis the blushing down of the peach.
		servants, 1st Irishman, 2nd Irishman ->
[Air]		N

	Her mouth, which a smile, devoid of all guile, half opens to view, is the bud of the rose, in the morning that blows, impearl'd with the dew. More fragrant her breath than the flower-scented heath at the dawning of day; the hawthorn in bloom, the lily's perfume, or the blossoms of May.	S

Enter Captain Belville in a riding dress.		<- Captain Belville

CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Good morrow, brother; you are early abroad.
BELVILLE	My dear Charles, I am happy to see you. True, I find, to the first of September.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	I meant to have been here last night, but one of my wheels broke, and I was obliged to sleep at a village six miles distant, where I left my chaise, and took a boat down the river at day-break. But your corn is not off the ground.
BELVILLE	You know our harvest is late in the north, but you will find all the lands clear'd on the other side of the mountain.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	And, pray, brother, how are the partridges this season?
BELVILLE	There are twenty coveys within sight of my house, and the dogs are in fine order.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	The game-keeper is this moment leading them round. I am fir'd at the sight.

[Air]		N
	By dawn to the downs we repair, with bosoms right jocund and gay, and gain more than pheasant or hare ~ gain health by the sports of the day. Mark! mark! to the right hand, prepare ~ see Diana! ~ she points! ~ see, they rise ~ see, they float on the bosom of air! Fire away! whilst loud echoe replies fire away. Hark! the volley resounds to the skies! Whilst echo in thunder replies! In thunder replies, and resounds to the skies, fire away! Fire away! Fire away.

CAPTAIN BELVILLE (aside)	But where is my little rustic charmer? O! there she is: I am transported. Pray, brother, is not that the little girl whose dawning beauty we admir'd so much last year?
BELVILLE	It is, and more lovely than ever. I shall dine in the field with my reapers to-day, brother: will you share our rural repast, or have a dinner prepar'd at the manor-house?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	By no means: pray let me be of your party: your plan is an admirable one, especially if your girls are handsome. I'll walk round the field, and meet you at dinner-time.
BELVILLE	Come this way, Rustic; I have some orders to give you.
	(Exeunt Belville and Rustic.)	Belville, Rustic ->

	(Captain Belville goes up to Rosina, gleans a few ears, and presents them to her, she refuses them; she runs out, he follows, her.)	Rosina, Captain Belville ->

Enter William.		<- William

WILLIAM	(speaking at the side scene) Lead the dogs back, James, the Captain won't shoot to-day. (seeing Rustic and Phœbe behind) Indeed? so close? I don't half like it.

Enter Rustic and Phœbe.		<- Rustic, Phœbe

RUSTIC	That's a good girl! Do as I bid you, and you shan't want encouragement.
	(He goes up to the Reapers, and William comes forward.)	Rustic ->

WILLIAM	O, no; I dare say she won't. So mrs. Phœbe?
PHŒBE	And so, mr. William, if you go to that!
WILLIAM	A new sweetheart, I'll be sworn; and a pretty comely lad he is: but he's rich, and that's enough to win a woman.
PHŒBE	I don't deserve this of you, William: but I'm rightly served, for being such an easy fool. You think, mayhap, I'm at my last prayers; but you may find yourself mistaken.
WILLIAM	You do right to cry out first; you think belike that I did not see you take that posy from Harry.
PHŒBE	And you belike that I did not catch you tying up one of cornflowers and wild roses for the miller's maid: but I'll be fool'd no longer; I have done with you, mr. William.
WILLIAM	I shan't break my heart, mrs. Phœbe. The miller's maid loves the ground I walk on.

[Duet]		N

WILLIAM	I've kiss'd and I've prattled to fifty fair maids, and chang'd 'em as oft, d'ye see! But of all the fair maidens that dance on the green, the maid of the mill for me.
PHŒBE	There's fifty young men have told me fine tales, and call'd me the fairest she; but of all the gay wrestlers that sport on the green, young Harry's the lad far me.
WILLIAM	Her eyes are as black as the sloe in the hedge, her face like the blossoms in May; her teeth are as white as the new-shorn flock, her breath like the new-made hay.
PHŒBE	He's tall, and he's strait as the poplar tree, his cheeks are as fresh as the rose; he look like a squire of high degree when drest in his Sunday cloaths. There's fifty young men, etc.
WILLIAM	I've kiss'd and I've prattled, etc.
	(Go off on different sides of the stage.)	William, Phœbe, Reapers ->

	(As they go off Rosina runs across the stage, Captain Belville following her.)	<- Rosina, Captain Belville

CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Stay, and hear me, Rosina. Why will you fatigue yourself thus? Only homely girls are born to work. - Your obstinacy is vain; you shall hear me.
ROSINA	Why do you stop me, sir? My time is precious. When the gleaning season is over, will you make up my loss?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Yes.
ROSINA	Will it be any advantage to you to make me lose my day's work?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Yes.
ROSINA	Would it give you pleasure to see me pass all my days in idleness?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Yes.
ROSINA	We differ greatly then, sir. I only wish for so much leisure as makes me return to my work with fresh spirit. We labour all the week, 'tis true; but then how sweet is our rest on Sunday!

[Air]		N
	Whilst with village maids I stray, sweetly wears the joyous day; chearful glows my artless breast, mild content the constant guest.

CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Mere prejudice, child: you will know better. I pity you, and will make your fortune.
ROSINA	Let me call my mother, sir. I am young, and can support myself by my labour; but she is old and helpless, and your charity will be well bestow'd. Please to transfer to her the bounty you intended for me.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Why - as to that -
ROSINA	I understand you, sir; your compassion does not extend to old women.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Really - I believe not.

Enter Dorcas.		<- Dorcas

ROSINA	You are just come in time, mother. I have met with a generous gentleman, whose charity inclines him to succour youth.
DORCAS	'Tis very kind. -And old age-!
ROSINA	He'll tell you that himfelf.
	(Rosina goes into the cottage.)	Rosina ->

DORCAS	I thought so. - Sure, sure, 'tis no sin to be old!
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	You must not judge of me by others, honest Dorcas. I am sorry for your misfortunes, and wish to serve you.
DORCAS	And to what, your honour, may I owe this kindness?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	You have a charming daughter -
DORCAS (aside)	I thought as much. A vile, wicked man!
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Beauty like hers might find a thousand resources in London: the moment she appears there, she will turn every head.
DORCAS	And is your honour sure her own won't turn at the same time?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	She shall live in affluence, and take care of you too, Dorcas.
DORCAS	I guess your honour's meaning; but you are mistaken, sir. If I must be a trouble to the dear child, I shall rather owe my bread to her labour than her shame.
	(Goes into the cottage and shuts the door.)	Dorcas ->

CAPTAIN BELVILLE	These women astonish me: but I won't give it up so.

[Air]		N

	From flower to flower gay roving, the wanton butterfly does nature's charms descry, from flower to flower gay roving, the wanton butterfly. On wavy wings high mounting, if chance some child pursues. Forsakes the balmy dews; on wavy wings high mounting, if chance some child pursues. Thus wild and ever changing, a sportive butterfly, I mock the whining sigh: still wild and ever changing, a sportive butterfly.
		<- Rustic
	A word with you, Rustic.
RUSTIC	I'm in a great hurry, your honour: I'm going to hasten dinner.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	I shan't keep you a minute. Take these five guineas.
RUSTIC	For whom, sir?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	For yourself. And this purfe.
RUSTIC	For whom, sir?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	For Rosina: they say she is in distress, and wants assistance.
RUSTIC	What pleasure it gives me to see you so charitable! You are just like your brother.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Prodigiously.
RUSTIC	But why give me money, sir?
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Only to - Tell Rosina there is a person who is very much interested in her happiness.
RUSTIC	How much you will please his honour by this! He takes mightily to Rosina, and prefers her to all the young women in the parish.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Prefers her! Ah! you sly rogue!
	(Laying his hand on Rustic's shoulder.)
RUSTIC	Your honour's a wag; but I'm sure I meant no harm.
CAPTAIN BELVILLE	Give her the money, and tell her she shall never want a friend: but not a word to my brother.
RUSTIC	All's safe, your honour.

	(Exit Captain Belville.)	Captain Belville ->

RUSTIC	I don't vastly like this business. At the Captain's age this violent charity is a little dubious. I am his honour's servant, and it's my duty to hide nothing from him. I'll go seek his honour. Oh, here he comes.

Enter Belville.		<- Belville

BELVILLE	Well, Rustic, have you any intelligence to communicate?
RUSTIC	A vast deal, sir. Your brother begins to make a good use of his money: he has given me these five guineas for myself, and this purse for Rosina.
BELVILLE	For Rosina! (aside) 'Tis plain he loves her? Obey him exactly; but as distress renders the mind haughty, and Rosina's situation requires the utmost delicacy, contrive to execute your commissfion in such a manner that she may not even suspect from whence the money comes.
RUSTIC	I understand your honour.
BELVILLE	Have you gain'd any intelligence in respect to Rosina?
RUSTIC	I endeavour'd to get all I could from the old woman's grandaughter; but all she knew was, that she was no kin to Dorcas, and that she had had a good bringing-up: but here are the labourers.
		<- Dorcas
BELVILLE	"Let the cloth be laid on these sheaves. Behold the table of happiness!" But I don't see Rosina. Dorcas, you must come too, and Phœbe.
DORCAS	We can't deny your honour.
RUSTIC	I am asham'd; but you command, sir.

Enter the Reapers, following Captain Belville.		<- Reapers, Captain Belville, William, Phœbe, 1st Irishman, 2nd Irishman, Irish Girl

[Air Finale]		N

	BELVILLE By this fountain's flow'ry side, drest in nature's blooming pride, where the poplar trembles high, and the bees in clusters fly; whilst the herdsman on the hill listens to the falling rill, pride and cruel scorn away, let us share the festive day.

	ROSINA, BELVILLE Taste our pleasures ye who may, this is nature's holiday. Simple nature ye who prize, life's fantastic forms despise.

CHORUS	Taste our pleasures ye who may, this is nature's holiday.

	CAPTAIN BELVILLE Blushing Bell, with downcast eyes, sighs, and knows not why she sighs; Tom is by her ~ we shall know ~ how he eyes her! ~ Is't not so?

CHORUS	Taste our pleasures ye who may, this is nature's holiday.

	WILLIAM He is fond, and she is shy; he would kiss her! ~ fie! ~ oh, fie! Mind thy sickle, let her be; by and by she'll follow thee.

CHORUS	Busy censors, hence, away! This is nature's holiday.

	RUSTIC, DORCAS Now we'll quaff the nut-brown ale, then we'll tell the sportive tale; all is jest, and all is glee, all is youthful jollity.

CHORUS	Taste our pleasures ye who may, this is nature's holiday.

	PHŒBE, IRISH GIRL, 1ST IRISHMAN Lads and lasses all advance, carol blithe, and form the dance; trip it lightly while you may; this is nature's holiday.

CHORUS	Trip it lightly while you may, this is nature's holiday.

All rise; the dancers come down the stage through the sheaves of corn, which are removed; the dance begins, and finishes the act.

The end (Act I)

Act I Act II