_Guild._ 'Twas the condition of her father's will, My brave old fellow-soldier, and my friend! He wish'd to see our ancient houses join'd By this, our children's union; but the veteran So highly valued military prowess, That he bequeath'd his fortunes and his daughter To my young Rivers, on these terms alone, That he should early gain renown in arms; And if he from the field return'd a conqueror, That sun which saw him come victorious home Should witness their espousals. Yet he comes not! The event of war is to the brave uncertain, Nor can desert in arms ensure success. _Ber._ Yet fame speaks loudly of his early valour. _Guild._ Ere since th' Italian Count, the young Orlando, My Rivers' bosom friend, has been my guest, The glory of my son is all his theme: Oh! he recounts his virtues with such joy, Dwells on his merit with a zeal so warm, As to his gen'rous heart pays back again The praises he bestows. _Ber._ Orlando's noble. He's of a tender, brave, and gallant nature, Of honour most romantic, with such graces As charm all womankind. _Guild._ And here comes one, To whom the story of Orlando's praise Sounds like sweet music. _Ber._ What, your charming daughter! Yes, I suspect she loves th' Italian Count: [_Aside._ That must not be. Now to observe her closely. _Enter_ EMMELINA. _Guild._ Come hither, Emmelina: we were speaking Of the young Count Orlando. What think you Of this accomplish'd stranger? _Em._ (_confused._) Of Orlando? Sir, as my father's guest, my brother's friend, I do esteem the Count. _Guild._ Nay, he has merit Might justify thy friendship if he wanted The claims thou mention'st; yet I mean to blame him. _Em._ What has he done? How has he wrong'd my father? For you are just, and are not angry lightly; And he is mild, unapt to give offence, As you to be offended. _Guild._ Nay, 'tis not much: But why does young Orlando shun my presence? Why lose that cheerful and becoming spirit Which lately charm'd us all? Rivers will chide us, Should he return, and find his friend unhappy. He is not what he was. What says my child? _Em._ My lord, when first my brother's friend arriv'd---- Be still, my heart. [_Aside._ _Ber._ She dares not use his name. Her brother's friend! [_Aside._ _Em._ When first your noble guest Came from that voyage, he kindly undertook To ease our terrors for my Rivers' safety, When we believ'd him dead; he seem'd most happy, And shar'd the gen'ral joy his presence gave. Of late he is less gay; my brother's absence (Or I mistake) disturbs his friend's repose: Nor is it strange; one mind informs them both; Each is the very soul that warms the other, And both are wretched, or are bless'd together. _Ber._ Why trembles my fair cousin?