Where e’er I go, what e’er my lowly state,
Yet grateful mem’ry still shall linger here,
And perhaps when musing o’er my cruel fate,
You still may greet me with a tender tear.
Ah! then forgive me, pitied let me part,
Your frowns too sure would break my sinking heart.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
SCENE—A Parlour.