_Marg._ Tell me, Ralph, whether there was anything between you and Nan? _Ralph._ Ask no questions, ask no questions, good Margery. [_Exeunt._ _Dolly._ Whither shall I go, or where will this adventure end? Sure, Mr. Severn will---- [_Four leaves of the MS. are here missing._] * * * * * _Umb._ The pretty good-natured absurdity! [_Aside._]--But, madam, you forgot Lorenzo that you mentioned just now: you must see his--[_Whistle. Scene changes._] there, madam, there's the place he spoke those charming words in. But I forget, madam, you are a country lady, and delight rather in airy prospects, tracts of land, and beauteous lawns. [_Scene changes to the Park._ _Dolly._ Is this the Park? Pray, madam, where is the Birdcage Walk, where lovers meet for intrigue? _Umb._ You shall see it in due time; for I have a thousand other things to tell you of. You must understand human life, and what passes in the world, before you give yourself away.--But I must not inform you of it abruptly and hastily. _Dolly._ It will be charitable in you, madam, to do so. _Umb._ I know you must be an admirer of poetry and good sense, without which music is insipid, or at least but half-informed. _Dolly._ I have wished myself at London a thousand times, to see operas; but I would not have them sing nonsense. _Umb._ Therefore, madam, I hope you'll like the poetry which Mr. Severn has ordered for the stage in celebration of two faithful lovers: they were persons in an humble condition, and no ways conspicuous but by their passion for each other; indeed, just what they should be conspicuous for---- AN INSCRIPTION AND EPITAPH IN A COUNTRY CHURCH.[137] "Near this place lie the bodies of John Hewett and Sarah Drew, an industrious young man and a virtuous maiden of this parish, who, having been contracted in marriage, and being with many others at harvest-work, were both in one instant killed by lightning on the last day of July, 1718." _Dolly._ Oh! but the poetry--what a sad thing 'twould have been if one of them had been left alive--But pray let's see the poetry. _Umb._ Have but patience and we will have convenience, miss, to sit down and hear it. [_Scene changes to a bower._ "Think not with rigorous judgment seized, A pair so faithful could expire; Victims so pure Heaven saw well pleased, And snatched them in celestial fire. Live well, and fear not sudden fate; When death calls virtue to the grave, Alike 'tis justice soon or late, Mercy alike to kill or save. Virtue alike can hear the call, And face the flash that melts the ball." But let us take our places, and carry it gravely, suitable to your fortune and merit. [_Here it is performed._ ACT THE THIRD. _Enter_ SEVERN _and_ HUMBER.