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Morton, Thomas, 1764-1838

"Speed the Plough A Comedy, In Five Acts; As Performed At The Theatre Royal, Covent Garden"


_Miss B._ What's your name?
_Henry._ Henry.
_Miss B._ And your family?
[HENRY_, in agony of grief, turns away, strikes his forehead, and leans
on the shoulder of_ ASHFIELD.]
_Dame._ [_Apart to_ MISS B.] Madam, I beg pardon, but nobody knows about
his parentage; and when it is mentioned, poor boy! he takes on sadly--He
has lived at our house ever since we had the farm, and we have had an
allowance for him--small enough to be sure--but, good lad! he was always
welcome to share what we had.
_Miss B._ I am shock'd at my imprudence--[_To_ HENRY.] Pray pardon me; I
would not insult an enemy, much less one I am inclined to
admire--[_Giving her hand, then withdraws it._]--to esteem--you shall go
to the Castle--my father shall protect you.
_Henry._ Generous creature! to merit his esteem is the fondest wish of
my heart--to be your slave, the proudest aim of my ambition.
_Miss B._ Receive your merited reward. [_He kneels--she places the medal
round his neck--the same to the others._]
_Sir Abel._ [_Advances._] I can't see Bob: pray, sir, do you happen to
know what is become of my Bob?
_Henry.


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