From frailty or from folly, dry them straight,
And listen to me. I have heard, the son
Of this strange woman is returning- home,
And will again pollute our neighbour- hood ;
fiomeniber my command, and shun his presence
As you would shun the adder. If re- port
Err not, his course of boyhood has been run
"Without one gleam of virtue to redeem
The darkness of his vices. ]\Iary. I '11 obey —
To the utmost of my power. — But, my dear father,
May not report err sometimes'? You were wont
To instruct me never to withhold the truth ;
And fearlessly to speak in their defence,
Whom I could vindicate from calumny;
That to protect the innocent, the ab- sent — Rav. How 's this ! the innocent — and calumny 1
And whence do you presume to throw discredit
On general report. — Wbat can you know? Mary. Not much perhaps, of late: wliile I remain'd
At his mother's — he was in his boyhood then ;
I knew him well; and there's one inci- dent
Much dwelt on to his prejudice, that I
Was witness to — if you would bid me tell it. "Ray. 0, by all means, come, your romance. Mary. 'T is truth.
It was a wintry day, the snow was deep,
And the chill rain had fallen and was frozen,
That all the surface was a glittering crust. —
We were all gather'd in the lady's hall,
That overlook'd the lawn; a poor stray fawn
Came limping toward us. It had lost, perhaps,
Its dam, and chas'd by cruel hunters, came
To seek a refuge with us. Every bound
The forlorn creature made, its little feet
Broke through the crust, and we could mark that one
Of its delicate limbs was broken. A rude
boy Follow'd it fast, as it would seem, to
kill it; I could not choose but wish its life were
sav'd, And at the word Charles ran and took
it up. And gave it to me, and I cherish'd it And bound its broken limb up; and it
liv'd. And seem'd to thank me for my care of it. Rav. But was this alH Was not the vil- lage lad assailed and beaten'? Mary. He was rude and churlish,
And would have forc'd the animal from
Charles. And tho' 't was on his mother's grounds,
Charles proffer'd him The price of the fawn. But nothing
would content him, x\nd he struck Charles; he was a larger
boy, But did not prove the stronger — so he
went And made the village all believe his story. That Charles had robb'd and beaten him,
for Charles Had none to speak for him. Rav. No more of this —
And never let me hear the name you've
utter'd Pass from your lips again. It is enough I know this youth for a lewd libertine; The woman, for a scoffer at things sacred, At me, and at my functions — and per- haps, Given to practices, that yet may need A dreadful expiation. Get you gone, And on your knees petition that you may
not Deserve my malediction. Mary. I obey.
{Exit Mary, into cottage, followed hjj Ravensworth.)
{Enter George Egertox, followed hy Sir Reginald, both in shooting dresses. )
George. By Heaven a lovely creature ! Sir R. Softly, George,
Is this the game you point at"? Have a
care. You 're not in London now, where our
gay monarch Sets such a fine example, in these matters. They '11 have no poaching here, that I can tell you,
