hat— 'T is no matter.— What dost think me, youth"? Charles. A hunter who loves freedom and the forest ; Who 'd rather kill his venison in the
Avood Than toil for it in the town. Am I not right 1 Unk. 'T is true — I am — a hunter — Charles. But a strange one. —
But come, sir, will you put me on my way? Unk. Will you not rather enter my poor cave And take its shelter till the morning
breaks f 'T will not be long. Charles. I cannot lose a moment
In selfish rest, while those who love me suffer. Unk. Give me your hand then. I 'm your
friend. Charles. I thank you.
'T is the first cordial grasp I 've had from man. UxK. Poor youth! But hold — Give me your solemn promise To keep this meeting secret. Charles. I hate secrets;
Lovers alone should have them. UxK. There are reasons : —
I cannot now disclose them — solemn rea- sons — I do implore you — Charles. Sir, be satisfied;
I '11 not reveal it. Unk. Nor allude to it,
However press' d — Nor give the darkest
hint That such a man as I exist ! Charles. I promise.
Unk. I 'm satisfied. Your words are from the heart. Fidelity and truth sit on your brow. The blush of morn begins to tinge the
east; You are not far from home ; you '11 soon
embrace Your mother, Charles. Come, this way lies the path. {Exeunt.)
Scene 2. An open Wood near the cottage of Raven SW'ORTH. Earhj dawn.
{Enter George Egerton.)
George. Poor uncle! little does your vi- sion dream,
(Being abed) what ramble I'm upon.
A hopeful enterprize, this of my un- cle's —
To tame me in a wild wood. Ay, and then
His bug-bear stories of the laws — con- found 'em.
Last night the}'- spoil'd the sweetest vi- sion for me;
Methought I saw this beauteous puritan.
The parson's daughter; well, I woo'd and won —
A thing of course — But going to em- brace her,
I hugg'd — my pillow, think youf no; a pillory !
Well : I 'm resolved in spite of dream and omen,
To see her, if I can, before we go.
I 've three hours, good ; and three hours may do much. —
By Vulcan, the intruding and lame God,
My uncle limping this way! Gout con- found him.
A royal oak! Bend your umbrageous branches,
And saving me, be twice immortalized. {Conceals himself in a tree.)
{Enter Sir Reginald.)
Sir R. S 'blood ! the young rebel, what a
march he 's led me ! Tortur'd too, all the route, like a poor
prisoner By my own natural enemy the gout. The worst oft is I cannot find the
rascal, I've been around the house. And I'd
ha' sworn That was his mark. If I but catch him —
Hey!
{Enter Mary.)
A pretty girl — I 'faith, a pretty girl! I '11 speak to her, I will ; there 's no one
near — Hem! Save you lady — Mary. {Who is anxioush/ looking another way.) Would you aught with me, sir! Sir R. Aught*? Yes, egad: a very pretty girl — My dear, I — that is — George. So, so, my grave uncle. —
Sir R. I meant to say — 't is somewhat early, child. For youth like yours — She 's beautiful by- gad;—
