but what he gets by hard labour. Here comes a rich farmer, perhaps he will give you ſomething.
Enter Farmer.
Landlord.
Good morning to you, Sir. Under yon tree ſits a poor woman in diſtreſs, who is in need of your charity.
Farmer..
Is ſhe not aſhamed of herſelf? Why don’t ſhe work?
Landlord.
She has had a fever.—If you would but pay for one dinner—
Farmer..
The harveſt has been but indifferent, and my cattle and ſheep have ſuffered by a diſtemper. [Exit.
Landlord.
My fat, ſmiling face was not made for begging: you’ll have more luck with your thin, ſour one—ſo, I’ll leave you to yourſelf.[Exit.
[Agatha riſes and comes forward.]
Agatha.
Oh Providence! thou haſt till this hour protected me, and haſt given me fortitude not to deſpair. Receive my humble thanks, and reſtore me to health, for the ſake of my poor ſon, the innocent cauſe of my ſufferings, and yet my only comfort. [kneeling] Oh, grant that I may ſee him once more! See him improved in ſtrength of mind and body; and that by thy gracious mercy he may never be viſited with afflictions great as mine. [After a pauſe] Protect his father too, merciful Providence, and pardon his crime of perjury to me! Here, in the face of heaven (ſuppoſing my end approaching, and that I can but a few days
