Christine. Lenox leaves us immediately, dear father; the army is on the march.
Jasper. Well, he goes in good time, and may success attend him. Ods my life, when I was young, the sound of the drum and fife was like the music of the spheres, and the noise and bustle of a battle was more cheering to me, than "the hunter's horn in the morning." You will not forget us, Lenox, will you?
Lenox. Forget ye? Never—I should be the most ungrateful of men, could I forget that endearing attention which poured oil into my wounds, and comforted the heart of a desponding and mutilated soldier. No, Jasper, no; while life remains, yourself and daughter shall never cease to live in my grateful remembrance.
[Christine and Lenox enter the cottage.
Pastoral Music.—Peasants are seen winding down the mountains, headed by Jerry, dressed for a festive occasion, with white favours, nosegays, &c.
Jerry. Here I am, farmer Jasper—come to claim Miss Crissy as my wife, according to your promise, and have brought all my neighbours. How do you do?
Jasper. Well—quite well—and these are all your neighbours?
Jerry. Yes—there's Bob Short, the tanner; Nick Anvil, the blacksmith; Patty, the weaver's daughter—and the rest of 'em; come here, Patty, make a curtchey to the old soger—[Patty comes forward.]—a pretty girl! I could have had her, but she wanted edication—she wanted the airs and graces, as our schoolmaster says.
Jasper. Well, farmer, you are an honest man, but I fear my Christine will not approve this match, commenced without her advice, and concluded without her consent. Then her education has been so different from—
Jerry. O, fiddle-de-dee, I don't mind how larned she is, so much the better—she can teach me to parlyvoo, and dance solos and duets, and such elegant things, when I've done ploughing.