_Em._ To-day I shall embrace my valiant brother!

_Jul._ You droop, my Lord: did you not hear her right?

She told you that your Rivers would return, Would come to crown your friendship and our hopes.

_Or._ He is most welcome! Is he not my friend?

You say my Rivers comes.--Thy arm, good Bertrand.

_Ber._ Joy to us all! joy to the Count Orlando!

Weak man, take care. [_Aside to_ ORLANDO.

_Em._ My Lord! you are not well.

_Ber._ Surprise and joy oppress him: I myself Partake his transports. Rouse, my Lord, for shame.

_Em._ How is it with you now?

_Or._ Quite well--'tis past.

_Ber._ The wonder's past, and nought but joy remains.

_Enter_ GUILDFORD _and_ RIVERS.

_Guild._ He's come! he's here! I have embrac'd my warrior; Now take me, heaven; I have liv'd long enough.

_Jul._ My Lord! my Rivers!

_Riv._ 'Tis my Julia's self!

My life!

_Jul._ My hero! Do I then behold thee?

_Riv._ Oh, my full heart! expect not words, my Julia!

_Em._ Rivers!

_Riv._ My sister! what an hour is this!

My own Orlando too!

_Or._ My n.o.ble friend!

_Riv._ This is such prodigality of bliss, I scarce can think it real. Honest Bertrand, Your hand; yours, my Orlando; yours, my father; And, as a hand, I have a heart for all; Love has enlarg'd it; from excess of love I am become more capable of friendship.

My dearest Julia!

_Guild._ She is thine, my son; Thou hast deserv'd her n.o.bly; thou hast won her, Fulfill'd the terms----

_Riv._ Therefore I dare not ask her; I would not claim my Julia as a debt, But take her as a gift, and, oh, I swear It is the dearest, richest, choicest gift.

The bounty of indulgent heaven could grant.

[GUILDFORD _joins their hands_.

_Jul._ Spare me, my Lord.--As yet I scarce have seen you.

Confusion stops my tongue--yet I will own, If there be truth or faith in woman's vows, Then you have still been present to this heart, And not a thought has wandered from its duty.

[_Exeunt_ JULIA _and_ EMMELINA.

_Riv._ (_looking after_ JULIA.) Oh, generous Julia!

_Or._ (_aside to_ BERTRAND.) Mark how much she loves him!

_Ber._ (_aside to_ ORLANDO.) Mere words, which the fond s.e.x have always ready.

_Riv._ Forgive me, good Orlando, best of friends!

How my soul joys to meet thee on this sh.o.r.e!

Thus to embrace thee in my native England!

_Guild._ England! the land of worth, the soil of heroes, Where great Elizabeth the sceptre sways, O'er a free, glorious, rich, and happy people!

Philosophy, not cloister'd up in schools, The speculative dream of idle monks, Attir'd in attic robe, here roams at large; Wisdom is wealth, and science is renown.

Here sacred laws protect the meanest subject; The bread that toil procures fair freedom sweetens; And every peasant eats his homely meal, Content and free, lord of his small domain.

_Riv._ Past are those Gothic days, and, thanks to heaven, They are for ever pa.s.s'd, when English subjects Were born the va.s.sals of some tyrant lord!

When free-soul'd men were basely handed down To the next heir, transmitted with their lands, The shameful legacy from sire to son!

_Guild._ But while thy generous soul, my n.o.ble boy, Justly abhors oppression, yet revere The plain stern virtues of our rough forefathers: O never may the gallant sons of England Lose their plain, manly, generous character; Forego the glorious charter nature gave them,-- Beyond what kings can give, or laws bestow,-- Their candour, courage, constancy, and truth!

[_Exeunt_ GUILDFORD _and_ RIVERS.

_Or._ Stay, Bertrand, stay--Oh, pity my distraction!

This heart was never made to hide its feelings; I had near betray'd myself.

_Ber._ I trembled for you: Remember that the eye of love is piercing, And Emmelina mark'd you.

_Or._ 'Tis too much!

My artless nature cannot bear disguise.

Think what I felt when unsuspecting Rivers Press'd me with gen'rous rapture to his bosom, Profess'd an honest joy, and call'd me friend!

I felt myself a traitor: yet I swear, Yes, by that Power who sees the thoughts of men, I swear, I love the gallant Rivers more Than light or life! I love, but yet I fear, him: I shrunk before the l.u.s.tre of his virtue---- I felt as I had wrong'd him--felt abash'd.

I cannot bear this conflict in my soul, And therefore have resolv'd----

_Ber._ On what?

_Or._ To fly.

_Ber._ To fly from Julia?

_Or._ Yes, to fly from all, From every thing I love; to fly from Rivers, From Emmelina, from myself, from thee: From Julia? no--that were impossible, For I shall bear her image in my soul; It is a part of me, the dearest part; So closely interwoven with my being, That I can never lose the dear remembrance, 'Till I am robb'd of life and her together.

_Ber._ 'Tis cowardice to fly.

_Or._ 'Tis death to stay.

_Ber._ Where would you go?--How lost in thought he stands! [_Aside._ A vulgar villain now would use persuasion, And by his very earnestness betray The thing he meant to hide: I'll coolly wait, Till the occasion shows me how to act; Then turn it to my purpose.--Ho! Orlando!