Lovers Vows | Page 6

not do--the poor man has nothing himself but what he gets by hard labour. Here comes a rich farmer; perhaps he will give you something.
Enter FARMER.
LANDLORD. Good morning to you, Sir. Under yon tree sits a poor woman in distress, who is in need of your charity.
FARMER. Is she not ashamed of herself? Why don't she work?
LANDLORD. She has had a fever.--If you would but pay for one dinner--
FARMER. The harvest has been indifferent, and my cattle and sheep have suffered distemper. [Exit.
LANDLORD. My fat, smiling face was not made for begging: you'll have more luck with your thin, sour one--so, I'll leave you to yourself. [Exit.
[Agatha rises and comes forward.]
AGATHA. Oh Providence! thou hast till this hour protected me, and hast given me fortitude not to despair. Receive my humble thanks, and restore me to health, for the sake of my poor son, the innocent cause of my sufferings, and yet my only comfort. [kneeling] Oh, grant that I may see him once more! See him improved in strength of mind and body; and that by thy gracious mercy he may never be visited with afflictions great as mine. [After a pause] Protect his father too, merciful Providence, and pardon his crime of perjury to me! Here, in the face of heaven (supposing my end approaching, and that I can but a few days longer struggle with want and sorrow), here, I solemnly forgive my seducer for all the ills, the accumulated evils which his allurements, his deceit, and cruelty, have for twenty years past drawn upon me.
Enter a COUNTRY GIRL with a basket.
AGATHA [near fainting]. My dear child, if you could spare me a trifle--
GIRL. I have not a farthing in the world--But I am going to market to sell my eggs, and as I come back I'll give you three-pence--And I'll be back as soon as ever I can. [Exit.
AGATHA. There was a time when I was as happy as this country girl, and as willing to assist the poor in distress. [Retires to the tree and sits down.]
Enter FREDERICK--He is dressed in a German soldier's uniform, has a knapsack on his shoulders, appears in high spirits, and stops at the door of the inn.
FREDERICK. Halt! Stand at ease! It is a very hot day--A draught of good wine will not be amiss. But first let me consult my purse. [Takes out a couple of pieces of money, which he turns about in his hand.] This will do for a breakfast--the other remains for my dinner; and in the evening I shall be home. [Calls out] Ha! Halloo! Landlord! [Takes notice of Agatha, who is leaning against the tree.] Who is that? A poor sick woman! She don't beg; but her appearance makes me think she is in want. Must one always wait to give till one is asked? Shall I go without my breakfast now, or lose my dinner? The first I think is best. Ay, I don't want a breakfast, for dinner time will soon be here. To do good satisfies both hunger and thirst. [Going towards her with the money in his hand.] Take this, good woman.
[She stretches her hand for the gift, looks steadfastly at him, and cries out with astonishment and joy.]
AGATHA. Frederick!
FREDERICK. Mother! [With astonishment and grief.] Mother! For God's sake what is this! How is this! And why do I find my mother thus? Speak!
AGATHA. I cannot speak, dear son! [Rising and embracing him.] My dear Frederick! The joy is too great--I was not prepared--
FREDERICK. Dear mother, compose yourself: [leans her against his breast] now, then, be comforted. How she trembles! She is fainting.
AGATHA. I am so weak, and my head so giddy--I had nothing to eat all yesterday.
FREDERICK. Good heavens! Here is my little money, take it all! Oh mother! mother! [Runs to the inn]. Landlord! Landlord! [knocking violently at the door.]
LANDLORD. What is the matter?
FREDERICK. A bottle of wine--quick, quick!
LANDLORD [surprised]. A bottle of wine! For who?
FREDERICK. For me. Why do you ask? Why don't you make haste?
LANDLORD. Well, well, Mr. soldier: but can you pay for it?
FREDERICK. Here is money--make haste, or I'll break every window in your house.
LANDLORD. Patience! Patience! [goes off.
FREDERICK [to Agatha]. You were hungry yesterday when I sat down to a comfortable dinner. You were hungry when I partook of a good supper. Oh! Why is so much bitter mixed with the joy of my return?
AGATHA. Be patient, my dear Frederick. Since I see you, I am well. But I have been ill: so ill, that I despaired of ever beholding you again.
FREDERICK. Ill, and I was not with you? I will, now, never leave you more. Look, mother, how tall and strong I am grown. There arms can now afford you support. They can, and shall, procure you subsistence.
[Landlord coming out of