The Stranger | Page 8

madam, I wish not to be thought forward; but women
always seemed to me less calculated for retirement than men. We have
a thousand employments, a thousand amusements, which you have not.
Mrs. H. Dare I ask what they are?
Bar. We ride--we hunt--we play--read--write.--
Mrs. H. The noble employments of the chase, and the still more noble
employment of play, I grant you.

Bar. Nay, but dare I ask what are your employments for a day?
Mrs. H. Oh, my lord! you cannot imagine how quickly time passes
when a certain uniformity guides the minutes of our life. How often do
I ask, "Is Saturday come again so soon?" On a bright cheerful morning,
my books and breakfast are carried out upon the grass plot. Then is the
sweet picture of reviving industry and eager innocence always new to
me. The birds' notes so often heard, still waken new ideas: the herds are
led into the fields: the peasant bends his eye upon his plough. Every
thing lives and moves; and in every creature's mind it seems as it were
morning. Towards evening I begin to roam abroad: from the park into
the meadows. And sometimes, returning, I pause to look at the village
boys and girls as they play. Then do I bless their innocence, and pray to
Heaven, those laughing, thoughtless hours, could be their lot for ever.
Bar. This is excellent!--But these are summer amusements.--The winter!
the winter!
Mrs. H. Why for ever picture winter like old age, torpid, tedious, and
uncheerful? Winter has its own delights: this is the time to instruct and
mend the mind by reading and reflection. At this season, too, I often
take my harp, and amuse myself by playing or singing the little
favourite airs that remind me of the past, or solicit hope for the future.
Bar. Happy indeed are they who can thus create, and vary their own
pleasures and employments.
Enter PETER.
Pet. Well--well--Pray now--I was ordered--I can keep him back no
longer--He will come in.
Enter TOBIAS, forcing his way.
Tob. I must, good Heaven, I must!
Mrs. H. [Confused.] I have no time at present--I--I--You see I am not
alone.

Tob. Oh! this good gentleman will forgive me.
Bar. What do you want?
Tob. To return thanks. Even charity is a burden if one may not be
grateful for it.
Mrs. H. To-morrow, good Tobias; to-morrow.
Bar. Nay, no false delicacy, madam. Allow him to vent the feelings of
his heart; and permit me to witness a scene which convinces me, even
more powerfully than your conversation, how nobly you employ your
time. Speak, old man.
Tob. Oh, lady, that each word which drops from my lips, might call
down a blessing on your head! I lay forsaken and dying in my hut: not
even bread nor hope remained. Oh! then you came in the form of an
angel, brought medicines to me; and your sweet consoling voice did
more than those. I am recovered. To-day, for the first time, I have
returned thanks in presence of the sun: and now I come to you, noble
lady. Let me drop my tears upon your charitable hand. For your sake,
Heaven has blessed my latter days. The Stranger too, who lives near me,
has given me a purse of gold to buy my son's release. I am on my way
to the city: I shall purchase my Robert's release. Then I shall have an
honest daughter-in-law. And you, if ever after that you pass our happy
cottage, oh! what must you feel when you say to yourself, "This is my
work!"
Mrs. H. [In a tone of entreaty.] Enough, Tobias; enough!
Tob. I beg pardon! I cannot utter what is breathing in my breast. There
is One, who knows it. May His blessing and your own heart reward
you.
[Exit, PETER following. MRS. HALLER casts her eyes upon the ground,
and contends against the confusion of an exalted soul, when surprised
in a good action. The BARON stands opposite to her, and from time to
time casts a glance at her, in which his heart is swimming.

Mrs. H. [Endeavouring to bring about a conversation.] I suppose, my
lord, we may expect the Count and Countess every moment now?
Bar. Not just yet, madam. He travels at his leisure. I am selfish, perhaps,
in not being anxious for his speed: the delay has procured me a delight
which I never shall forget.
Mrs. H. [Smiling.] You satirise mankind, my lord.
Bar. How so?
Mrs. H. In supposing such scenes to be uncommon.
Bar. I confess I was little prepared for such an acquaintance as yourself:
I am extremely surprised. When Solomon told me your name and
situation, how could I suppose that--Pardon my curiosity: You have
been, or are