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Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

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BECOMING AMERICA<br />

REVOLUTIONARY AND EARLY NATIONAL PERIOD LITERATURE<br />

MARIA<br />

Do not reect upon my mother’s memory, Sir—<br />

VAN ROUGH<br />

Why not, Mary, why not? She kept me <strong>from</strong> speaking my mind all her life, and<br />

do you think she shall henpeck me now she is dead <strong>to</strong>o? Come, come; don’t go <strong>to</strong><br />

sniveling; be a good girl, and mind the main chance. I’ll see you well settled in the<br />

world.<br />

MARIA<br />

I do not doubt your love, Sir, and it is my duty <strong>to</strong> obey you. I will endeavour <strong>to</strong><br />

make my duty and inclination go hand in hand.<br />

VAN ROUGH<br />

Well, Well, Mary; do you be a good girl, mind the main chance, and never mind<br />

inclination. Why, do you know that I have been down in the cellar this very morning<br />

<strong>to</strong> examine a pipe <strong>of</strong> Madeira which I purchased the week you were born, and mean<br />

<strong>to</strong> tap on your wedding day?—That pipe cost me fty pounds sterling. It was well<br />

worth sixty pounds; but I over-reach’d Ben Bulkhead, the supercargo. I’ll tell you<br />

the whole s<strong>to</strong>ry. You must know that—<br />

Enter SERVANT.<br />

SERVANT<br />

Sir, Mr. Transfer, the broker is below. [Exit.]<br />

VAN ROUGH<br />

Well, Mary, I must go. Remember, and be a good girl, and mind the main chance.<br />

[Exit.<br />

MARIA, alone.<br />

How deplorable is my situation! How distressing for a daughter <strong>to</strong> nd her heart<br />

militating with her lial duty! I know my father loves me tenderly; why then do I<br />

reluctantly obey him? Heaven knows! with what reluctance I should oppose the<br />

will <strong>of</strong> a parent, or set an example <strong>of</strong> lial disobedience; at a parent’s command,<br />

I could wed awkwardness and deformity. Were the heart <strong>of</strong> my husband good, I<br />

would so magnify his good qualities with the eye <strong>of</strong> conjugal aection, that the<br />

defects <strong>of</strong> his person and manners should be lost in the emanation <strong>of</strong> his virtues.<br />

At a father’s command, I could embrace poverty. Were the poor man my husband,<br />

I would learn resignation <strong>to</strong> my lot; I would enliven our frugal meal with good<br />

humour, and chase away misfortune <strong>from</strong> our cottage with a smile. At a father’s<br />

command, I could almost submit <strong>to</strong> what every female heart knows <strong>to</strong> be the most<br />

Page | 591

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