Col. You’ll get the better of this, think no more of her: nothing so easy.
Gray. There are some matters very, very easy. It is easy for you, a man well in trade, with children flourishing about you, and all the world looking with a sunny face upon you—it is easy for you to say to a man like me, “You are poor and friendless—you have placed your affections on a being, to sweeten the bitterness of your lot, to cheer and bless you on the road of life, yet she can never be yours—think no more of her,” this is easy—“nothing so easy.”
Col. Farewell, good fellow, I meant not to insult or offend you. If you can obtain my niece’s consent, why, to prove that I love honesty, for its own sake, I’ll give you whatever help my means afford. If, however, the girl refuses, strive to forget her. Believe me, there is scarcely a more pitiable object than a man following with spaniel-like humility, the woman who despises him.
[Exit L.
Gray. Despises!—did she ever say,—no! no! she couldn’t, yet when I met her last, though she uttered not a sound, her eyes looked hate—as they flashed upon me, I felt humbled—a wretch! a very worm.
Enter Gilbert R. (singing.) “A merry little plough Boy.”
Gil. Well, now master’s gone out, I think I have a little time to see my Jenny—master and mistress have no compassion for us lovers—always work, work; they think once a week is quite enough for lovers to see one another, and unfortunately my fellow servant is in love as well as I am; and being obliged to keep house, I could only get out once a fortnight, if it wasn’t for Lucy.
Gray. (starting.) Lucy! who said any thing about Lucy?
Gil. I did! It’s a good Christian name, isn’t it? and no treason in it.
Gray. No, no, but you startled me.