Augusta. I will behave so again.
Mr. D. Do I wait for favourable opportunities to love you? Oh, no! in things the most indifferent, I ask myself, will it give pleasure to my Augusta? I close my eyes with prayers for the happiness of my child; and my first thoughts, when I rise, are on the means of gratifying her wishes; while she, for whose sake only I live, waits for opportunities to be good and sincere!
Augusta [leaning on her mother]. Oh! my mother!
Mrs. D. Cease, I intreat you!
Mr. D. Why turn to your mother? come to this wounded bosom. [She embraces him]. Think no more of what is past; only treat me with sincerity. Believe me, in all your books you will not find a father whose affection for his daughter equals mine.
Augusta. Oh! were I dead! then no suspicion of ingratitude could tear my heart.
Mr. D. No, Augusta! not dead—then I could forgive no more. [He presses her affectionately to his heart]. Now my child is restored to me. What happiness can equal mine? Here I hold the only hope of my life, in my arms.
Mrs. D. Am not I her mother?
Mr. D. Forgive me. What would life be to me, without you? forgive me [takes her hand and kisses it]——Now I will seek your fugitive lover: God grant I may find him worthy of my Augusta! [Exit Drave.
Mrs. D. I wish, Augusta, your future husband may have the heart of your father. He is, indeed, sometimes passionate; and in every family, differences will arise; but they have always ended in rendering us more attached to each other.