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Preserve my reason, memory, and sense!
way; observe me well. Have scorching climates, time, and this strange habit, So chang'd and so disguis'd thy faithful Wilmot, That nothing in my voice, my face, or mien, Remains to tell my Charlotte I am he?
[After viewing him some Time, she approaches
weeping, and gives him her Hand; and then,
turning towards him, sinks upon his Bosom. Why dost thou weep? Why dost thou tremble thus ? Why doth thy panting heart, and cautious touch, Speak thee but half convinc'd? Whence are thy fears? Why art thou silent ? Canst thou doubt me still? Char. No, Wilmot ! no; I'm blind with too much
Y. Wilm. Let me know it :
Char. Alas, my Wilmot ! these sad tears are thine ; They flow for thy misfortunes. I am pierc'd With all the agonies of strong compassion, With all the bitter anguish you must feel, When
shall hear your parents
Y, Wilm. Are no more.
Y. Wilm. Perhaps I do,
Y, Wilm. My joy's complete !
worth: You are not base, nor can you be superfluous, But when misplac'd in base and sordid hands. Fly, fly, my Wilmot ! leave thy happy Charlotte! Thy filial piety, the sighs and tears Of thy lamenting parents, call thee hence.
Y. Wilm. I have a friend, the partner of my voyage, Who, in the storm last night, was shipwreck'd with
Char. Shipwreck'd last night!-0, you immortal
powers ; What have you suffered! How were you preservd?)
Y. Wilm. Let that, and all my other strange es
Char. I consent with pleasure.
bear my joy!
A Street in Penryn.
Enter RANDAL. Rand. Poor! poor!' and friendless! whither shall
I wander? And to what point direct my views and hopes ? A menial servant !-No-What, shall I live Here in this land of freedom, live distinguish'd, And mark’d the willing slave of some proud subject ! To swell his useless train for broken fragments, The cold remains of his superfluous board? I would aspire to something more and better.
Turn thy eyes then to the prolific ocean,
Enter YOUNG WILMOT.
Rand. Your pardon, sir! I know but one on earth
Y. Wilm. Why?
Y. Wilm. I am pleas'd to hear it :
Rand. O, Wilmot !-0, my master!
them : Sure, Heaven hath bless'd me to that very
end : I've wealth enough-nor shalt thou want a part.
Rand. I have a part already-I am blest
your success, and share in all your joys.
ready, Grown so familiar to me, that I wonder I knew you not at first : yet it may For you're much alter'd, and they think you dead.' Y. Wilm. This is certain
i Charlotte beheld me
Rand. It may, indeed,
Y. Wilm. I remember,
Rand. Sir, if you desire it
.Y. Wilm. Nay, no objections ! 'Twill save time, Most precious with me now.
For the deception, If doing what
Charlotte will approve,