CON. Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexion From red to white should change in quick succession, And then from white to red, oh, take no notice! If my poor limbs should tremble with emotion, Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing! If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter, Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne'er be known! Mrs. Partlet motions to Chorus to leave her with Constance. Exeunt ladies of Chorus. ARIA—CONSTANCE When he is here, I sigh with pleasure— When he is gone, I sigh with grief. My hopeless fear No soul can measure— His love alone Can give my aching heart relief! When he is cold, I weep for sorrow— When he is kind, I weep for joy. My grief untold Knows no to-morrow— My woe can find No hope, no solace, no alloy! MRS. P. Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear— I, too, have loved; but that was long ago! Who is the object of your young affections? CONST. Hush, mother! He is here! (Looking off) Enter Dr. Daly. He is pensive and does not see them MRS. P. (amazed) Our reverend vicar! CONST. Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken! MRS. P. My child, be comforted. To such an union I shall not offer any opposition. Take him—he's yours! May you and he be happy! CONST. But, mother dear, he is not yours to give! MRS. P. That's true, indeed! CONST. He might object! MRS. P. He might. But come—take heart—I'll probe him on the subject. Be comforted—leave this affair to me. (They withdraw.) RECITATIVE—DR. DALY The air is charged with amatory numbers— Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays. Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers The aching memory of the old, old days? BALLAD Time was when Love and I were well acquainted. Time was when we walked ever hand in hand. A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted, None better-loved than I in all the land! Time was, when maidens of the noblest station, Forsaking even military men, Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration— Ah me, I was a fair young curate then!