A8v

The following Comedy presents a pleasing picture of
adventures, in a family all life and spirit, during the
summer recess in the Country. It was brought out at
Drury Lane in 17761776, and was the last play superintended
by Garrick. His Epilogue contains a humorous
description of the fashions of that day.

In Lady Dinah is held up to contempt, as fully as
representation in a Theatre would well admit, the freethinking
Philosophy of a Female Student. In the under
Plot, between her and her Servants, that mutual infidelity,
by a law of the moral world, is inherent in a
conspiracy of fraud on others, is enforced, not by dull
maxims, but pleasantly by Example.

Emily in this Comedy was the only new character in
which Mrs. Siddons appeared when she was a Candidate,
the first time, before a London Audience.

B1r

The Runaway.
A Comedy.

Vol. I. B B1v B2r

Prologue.

Oh, the sweet Prospect! what a fine Parterre;

Soft buds, sweet flowers, bright tints, and scented air! Boxes.

A Vale, where critic wit spontaneous grows, Pit.

A Hill, which noise and folly never knows! Gallery.

Let Cits point out green paddocks to their spouses,

To me no Prospect—like your Crowded Houses,

If, as just now, you wear those smiles enchanting,

But, if you frown! my heart will soon be panting!

Your brows from wrinkling into Frowns to night

I’ll bribe—but how? Oh, now I’ve hit it—right.

Secrets are pleasant to each child of Eve;

I’ve one in store, which, for your Smiles, I’ll give.

Oh list! a tale it is, not very common,

Our Poet of to night, in faith’s a—Woman!

A woman, too, untutor’d in the school,

Nor Aristotle knows, nor scarce a Rule

By which fine writers fabricated Plays,

From sage Menander’s, to these modern days:

How she could venture here I am astonished!

But, ’twas in vain the Mad-cap I admonished;

Told her of squeaking Cat-calls, Hisses, Groans,

Off-offs, and Critic’s dread condemning moans.

I’m undismay’d, she cried; for critic men

Will smile on folly from a Woman’s pen.

Then, ’tis the Ladies’ cause! why, I’m secure—

Let him who hisses no soft Nymph endure,

May he who frowns, be frown’d on by his Goddess,

From Pearls, and Brussel’s-point Boxes to Maids in Boddice. Gallery.

B2 B2v

Now, for a Hint of her intended feast:

’Tis rural, playful,—harmless ’tis at least;

Not over-stock’d with repartee or wit,

Though, here and there, perchance there is a hit.

She ne’er has sought Apollo’s classic fire,

Or Muse invoked, or heard th’ Aönian Lyre;

Her Comic Muse—a little blue-eyed maid,

With cheeks which innocence and health displayed,

In lieu of Phœbus—but a romping Boy,

Whose Taste is trap-ball, and a kite his joy;

Her Nursery, the study where she thought,

Framed fable, incident, surprise, and plot.

As, from surrounding hints, she caught her plan

Her Fancy flew from infancy to man;

Tom plagues poor Fan, she sobs—and loves him still,

Kate aims her wit at both, with roguish skill,

Our Painter watch’d the lines, which Nature drew,

Her fancy glowed, and coloured them for You;

A Mother’s pencil gave the light and shades,

A Mother’s eye through each soft scene pervades,

Her Children rose before her flatter’d view,

Hope spread the canvass, whilst her Wishes drew!

We’ll now present you drapery and features,

And warmly hope you’ll like the sportive creatures;

Whilst Tom plays on with kites, and Fan with Dollies,

Till time matures them for important follies!

B3r 5

Characters.

Men.


Mr. Hargrave. Mr. Yates.

George Hargrave. His Son.Mr. Smith.

Mr. Drummond. Mr. Bensley.

Sir Char. Seymour. Harriet’s Lover.Mr. Brereton.

Mr. Morley. Emily’s Uncle.Mr. Aikin.

Justice. Mr. Parsons.

Justice’s Clerk.

Jarvis. Mr. Palmer.

First Hunter. Mr. Bannister.

Women.


Lady Dinah. Mrs. Hopkins.

Harriet. Mr. Hargrave’s Daughter.Miss Hopkins.

Bella. His Niece.Miss Younge.

Emily Morley. Mrs. Siddons.

Susan. Mrs. Wrighten.

Scene Mr. Hargrave’s House in the Country.
B3v B4r

The Runaway.

Act the First.



Scene I.

A garden.
Enter Bella, Harriet, and George Hargrave.

George.

Oh, for the Luxury of dressing-gown and
slippers!—the roads are so dusty, and the sun so
hot—’twould be less intolerable riding Post in
Africa.

Bella.

What a wild imagination! But, by what
mishap are you alone? What have you done with
all the College youths?—This is the first Vacation
you ever came home unaccompanied; I assure you
Sir we are quite disappointed.

Geo.

Most unconscionable creature! Never to be
satisfied with Conquest. There’s poor Lumley shot
through by your merciless eyes.

Bella.

A notable victory indeed! However, his
name serves to add a Unit to the list of one’s conquests,
and so you may give him hope enough just
to feed his sighs—but not to encourage his presumption.

Geo.

Paragon of Generosity! And what portion
of comfort will you in mercy bestow on Egerton B4v 8
and Filmer, who still hug the chains of the resistless
Arabella!

Bella.

Upon my word, your Catalogue grows interesting
—’tis worth while now to enquire for your
Vouchers—Proofs, George, proofs!

Geo.

Why, the first writes sonnets in your praise,
and the last toasts you till he cannot see.

Bella.

Oh, most surprising fortune! The Dulcinea
of one; and to the other a Circe—transforming him
into a beast. I hope you have better love-tokens
for the blushing Harriet—How does

—looking
at Harriet.

Harriet.

Fie Bella—you use me ill!

Geo.

Why sister! you plead guilty before the
Charge is finished. But tell me, my sweet Harriet,
who is the favoured mortal of whom you wish to
hear?

Har.

Indeed, Brother, I have no enquiry to make;
—but, I imagine my Cousin can inform you whom
she meant.

Bella.

Oh, doubtless, I could make the enquiry
for you; but you look so offended Harriet, that I
dare not venture—ask for Sir Charles Seymour yourself.

Geo.

Seymour! (Aside.—Oh, oh! very confidential
is my friend, Sir Charles, truly; and this then is the
object of his intended Visit!)—If Seymour be the
man, my Sister set your heart at rest; he is not very
distant from marriage—if I am not mistaken—with
a fine blooming girl; looking at Harriet not more
than nineteen—soft dove-like eyes—pouting lips—
teeth that rival, doubtless, oriental pearl—a Neck—
I want a Simile now—ivory, wax, alabaster—no!
they wont do.

Har.

With an air of Pique One would imagine,
Brother, you were drawing the picture of your own
Mistress, instead of Sir Charles’s, your colours are
so vivid.

Geo.

A fine woman, Harriet, gives animation to B5r 9
all around her: she is that Universal Spirit about
which Philosophers talk, the Attraction that binds
the system of Society.

Bella.

Heydey, George! Did the charms of Lady
Dinah
inspire this rhapsody!

Geo.

Charms! What, of that antiquated, gaudy,
sententious, philosophic Lady, who blessed us with
her long Speeches at dinner?

Bel.

You must learn to be more respectful in
your Epithets, Sir, for that antiquated, sententious,
philosophic Lady designs you the honour, we suspect,
of becoming your Mother!

Geo.

My Mother! Heaven forefend—you jest,
surely!

Bel.

You shall judge.—We met her in our late
visit to Bath. She renewed her acquaintance with
your Father, with whom she had been intimate in
Mrs. Hargrave’s life time. He invited her to return
with us, and she has been here this month. They
are, frequently, closeted together. She has forty
thousand pounds, and is Sister to an Irish Peer.

Geo.

She might have been Grandmother to a Peer,
by the years she has numbered. But, her excessive
Stateliness and Decorum overcame me;—how can
they agree with my father’s vociferation, october, and
hounds!

Bel.

Oh, I assure you, wonderously well—she
kisses Jowler, takes Ringwood on her lap, and, as for
the october, she had more than once sipped out of
your Father’s tankard. Obstructing Delicacies are
easily made to give way, when Schemes are formed
in minds of her stamp.

Geo.

My pretty Coquette Cousin Bella, take care
to avoid that state in which your delicacy may give
way! when you may rise from the labours of your
toilette with no end in view but the conquest of—
some Quixote Galant in his grand climacteric, on
whom you’ll squander more encouraging glances,
than all the sighs and ardor of two-and-twenty can
extort from you now.

B5v 10

Bel.

Memento mori! Quite a College compliment!
you ought rather to admit that my power will encrease,
until, like Ninon, I sway more peremptorily
at Eighty than at Eighteen. But, here’s John
coming, to summon us to Coffee.—Harriet!

Geo.

Come, Harriet—why that pensive air? give
me your hand.

Har.

I’ll only step and look at my birds, and follow
you instantly.— Exeunt George and Bella playfully
“Set your heart at rest, my Sister!”—Oh
Brother, you have robbed that heart of rest for ever.
Cruel Intelligence! Perfidious Seymour! Yet, of
what can I accuse him? He never professed to love
me. Yes! his ardent looks, his sighs, his confusion,
his respectful attentions, have a thousand times professed
the strongest passion. Oh! a man cannot in
honour be exculpated, who, though the word Love
never pass his lips, by such methods defrauds a woman
of her heart!

Exit.

Scene II.

A Garden Parlour.
Enter George and Bella, at the Garden Door.
Bella seating herself at a Tea Table.

Bel.

Hang this Lady Dinah—one’s forced to be so
dressed, and so formal! In the Country we should
be all Shepherds and Shepherdesses;—Meadows,
Ditches, and Rooks, make a strange combination
with Court Manners!

Geo.

Hist—she’s in the Hall I see; I’ll go and
squire her in.

Exit, and returns with Lady Dinah.

Lady D.

To you, Sir, who have been so long conversant
with the classic manners of the Antients,
the frivolous custom of Tea-drinking must appear
ridiculous!

B6r 11

Geo.

No Custom can be ridiculous, Lady Dinah,
that gives us the society of the Ladies. The state
of the young men of those days excites pity; they
never partook of such elegant hours.

Lady D.

aside He is all that his Father described!


Enter Mr. Hargrave.

Mr. H.

No; Barbary Bess is spavin’d, let her be
taken care of; I’ll have Longshanks, and see that he
is saddled by five. So, we shan’t have you in the
Hunt tomorrow, George; you must have more time
to shake off the lazy rust of Cambridge, I suppose.
—What sort of hours d’ye keep at College?

Geo.

Oh, Sir, we are frequently up before the Sun,
there.

Mr. H.

Aye, then it must be when you have not
been in bed all night I believe. And how do you
stand in other matters? Have the old ones tired you
with their Greek, and their Geometry, and their
learned Experiments to shew what Materials air, and
fire, and water, are made of—eh?

Bella.

Oh, Sir, he never studied them closely
enough to be tired. His philosophy and mine keep
pretty equal pace, I believe.

Geo.

As usual, my lively Cousin! Why not say
my Philosophy and your Coquetry—that would have
been a Compliment! However, Sir, I am not tired
of my Studies, though Bella has not exactly hit the
Reason.

Lady D.

to Mr. H. The Muses, Sir, sufficiently
recompence the most painful assiduities. Those
indeed who court them like the Toasts of the season,
merely because it is the Fashion, are neither alive to
their beauties, nor penetrated with their charms.
But, these are faithless Knights;—your Son, I dare
say, has enlisted himself amongst their sincerest
votaries.

Geo.

You do me great honour; and I have no B6v 12
doubt that with the Muses you are familiarly acquainted.
They shed their favours on a few only,
but those who obtain them must, like you, be irresistible!
(Aside. I’ll catch her Ladyship’s stile!)

Mr. H.

aside Humph—I’m glad he likes her.

Lady D.

You men are so full of Flattery! In
Athens, in Lacedemon, that vice was, for ages, unknown
—it was then that the Athenians were the
happiest, and the Lacedemonians the most—

Bel.

Oh mercy!—I have burnt my fingers in the
most terrible manner!


Enter Harriet, from the Garden.

Harriet.

Dear Bella, I am quite concerned!

Bella.

aside. Pho!—I only meant to break in
upon her Harangues; there’s no enduring so much
Wisdom!


Enter Servant.

Serv.

Mr. Drummond.


Enter Mr. Drummond.

Mr. D.

Ah! my dear Godson!—why this is an
unexpected pleasure. I did not know you were
arrived!

Geo.

I have had that happiness only a few hours,
Sir, and was on the point of doing homage to you at
the Park.

Mr. D.

Ungracious Rogue! a few hours, and not
been with me yet! However—stay where you are—
stay where you are, George; you cannot come under
my roof with Safety now, I assure you; such a pair
of eyes—such a bloom—such a shape!――Ah Girls,
Girls!

Harriet.

Dear Mr. Drummond of what, or whom,
are you speaking? You make me quite jealous.

Mr. D.

Oh! you are all outdone, eclipsed—you B7v 13
have no chance near my Incognita. Then she has
the prettiest foot, and moves—a Grace!

Bel.

Teasing Creature!

Mr. D.

Pretty Bella! well, it shall be satisfied.
Mr. Hargrave, I wait on you, Sir, to request a reception
for a young Lady of Beauty and Honour,
who has put herself under my care. But, as I really
think my house a dangerous situation for her, considering
that I am single, young, and handsome
touching his cheeks—I cannot, in Conscience, subject
her to the risk!—You, being a grave, orderly,
man, and having a couple of decent, well-behaved
young women for a Daughter and Niece, I think she
will be more certainly protected here—And this is
my business.

Mr. H.

A young Lady put herself under your
care! Who is she?

Mr. D.

Her name she wishes to conceal.

Mr. H.

That’s very odd! Where did you meet
with her?

Mr. D.

At the house of a Widow Tenant of mine,
where she had taken Refuge from a marriage to which
her Uncle would have forced her. She had no companion
but the good old Lady; whom I found employed
in assisting her to weep instead of consoling
her. In short, there were reasons for thinking her
situation there placed her within reach of Intrusion,
and I prevailed on her to leave it.

Mr. H.

And so your Credulity is again taken in!
—and the air of a weeping Beauty is the lure that
caught you—ha! ha! ha!—will you never be discouraged
by impositions?

Mr. D.

I dont remember that I was ever imposed on.

Mr. H.

No! dont I know how many people you
have plagued yourself about—who had not one grain
of Merit?

Mr. D.

I want Merit, Mr. Hargrave; yet, all
the blessings of Health and Fortune have not been
withheld from me.

B7v 14

Mr. H.

Aye, aye—there’s no getting you to hear
Reason on this subject.

Mr. D.

’Tis too late to reason now. The young
Lady is at my house, I have promised to bring her
hither, and we must endeavour to raise the poor girl’s
Spirits. She would have spoiled the prettiest face
in England—I beg pardon Ladies—one of the prettiest
faces, with weeping at the old Widow’s.

Bel.

An old Widow, a pretty Girl, a Lover, a
tyrannical Uncle!—’tis a charming group for the
summer amusement of a village circle. I long to
see this Beauty.

Lady D.

Her mere Beauty, according to Mr.
Drummond
, may be conspicuous enough—but, her
Pretensions to Birth and Honour seem to be a
more doubtful matter.

Geo.

Pardon me, my Lady, why should we doubt
of either? A Lady in such a situation has a Right
to protection; and I hope, Sir to his father you
will not withhold your’s.

Mr. H.

Oh, no, to be sure, George.—Sbud! refuse
reception to a fine Girl! ’twould be, with you,
a crying Sin, I warrant! But Mr. Drummond, I
should suppose—

Mr. D.

Come, you shall be satisfied. Though the
weakness with which you reproach me would have
induced me to have snatched her from an alarming
situation without much Examination, yet, in compliment
to your Delicacy, I have made proper enquiries:
—she was placed under the care of Mrs.
Carlton
by a person of character, and she has dispatched
a Messenger to her Uncle, who, I presume,
will be here to-morrow.

Harriet.

To Mr. H. Pray, Sir, permit us to wait
on the Lady, and conduct her; I am strongly interested
for her.

Mr. H.

’Tis an odd affair.—What say you to it,
My Lady?

Lady D.

As your family seems desirous to receive B8r 15
her, Sir, I am sorry to perceive an Impropriety in
the request. But I should apprehend that any appearance
of Encouragement to young Ladies in disobedience
—particularly when accompanied with the
glaring Indecorum of an Elopement—

Mr. H.

Aye; very true. Sbud, Mr. Drummond,
how can you encourage such—

Mr. D.

My Lady, I do not mean to encourage,
but to restore the young Lady to her family. She
seems terrified at the peculiar severity of her Uncle’s
temper; so, we’ll put ourselves in form, receive him
in full assembly, and divide his anger amongst us.
Your Ladyship, I’m sure, must be happy to render
the recovery from the first false step as easy as possible.

Mr. H.

Why, aye, my Lady, there can be no
harm in that, you know.

Lady D.

Very well, Sir, if you think so, I can no
longer perceive Impropriety.

Mr. H.

Well then, Harriet, you may go I think.

Bella.

And I with you, Cousin.

Mr. D.

Come then my pretty doves—I’ll escort
you.—George, steel your heart, steel your heart!
you Rogue.

Geo.

Oh, it is steeled, already, Sir.


Ex. Mr. D. with Harriet and Bella.

Mr. H.

You need not go, George, I want to speak
to you.

Lady D.

(aside.—Bless me! What does he intend
to say, now? he is going to open the affair to his Son
—well—these are the most anxious moments in a
Woman’s life—but, one must go through them.) I
have Letters to write, which I’ll take this leisure to
do, if you’ll pardon my absence, Gentlemen.

Mr. H.

To be sure, my Lady.
Both bowing. Exit Lady D.
Well, George, how do you like that Lady?

Geo.

Inexpressibly, Sir.—I never saw a Lady so
learned!

B8v 16

Mr. H.

Oh, she’s clever—she’s an Earl’s Sister
too, and a forty thousand pounder! boy.

Geo.

That’s a fine fortune.

Mr. H.

Aye, very fine, very fine—and then her
Interest! suppose I could prevail with her—eh,
George—if one could keep her in the family, I say—
would not that be a hit?

Geo.

An alliance with so noble a Family, Sir, is
certainly desirable.


Enter Servant.

Serv.

The Gentlemen are in the smoaking parlour,
Sir.

Mr. H.

Very well—are the pipes and october in
readiness?

Serv.

Yes, Sir.

Exit.

Mr. H.

Well then, we’ll talk over the affair tomorrow.
What, I suppose your stomach is too
squeamish for Tobacco and strong beer? You’ll find
the Justice, and some more of your old friends,
there.

Geo.

Pardon me, Sir, I made too free with the
bottle at Dinner. I believe a turn in the Garden is
a better recipe than tobacco fumes.

Mr. H.

Well, well, we wont dispute the matter
with you now, boy—but, you know, I dont like
Milksops.

Geo.

smiling Nor I Sir.

Exit.

Mr. H.

Aye, aye, George is a brave boy; he is
not of the set of whipsters who, affecting to despise
the jolly manners of their Ancestors, only show us—
how greatly manners may be altered without being
mended! Enter Justice. It is at least doubtful
whether we are a bit wiser, happier, or greater,
than we were in good old Bess’s days, when the
men of Rank were robust, and the women of Fashion
buxom.

C1r 17

Justice.

Aye, aye, I wish the innovations of Pretty
Fellows
, and Puny Girls were antiquated. A rosy
buxom lass, with eyes that sparkle like the glasses
we toast her in—adad, I’d drink her health till the
earth went gaily round under me.—But, what a
plague, ’Squire, d’ye stay here for?—come and make
your Speeches in t’other room; we can drink in the
mean time—and there’ll be no time lost.

Mr. H.

Well, well, I’ll go; but, I want to consult
you;—I have been thinking whether this Greenwood
estate—

Jus.

Tush, you know, very well, that I can neither
consider or advise, till I have had my brace. I am
as dark, till the liquor sends its Fires into my brains,
as a lanthorn without its candle; so, if you’ve any obscure
point to be examined, keep it until I’m enlightened.

Mr. H.

Well, come along.

Going.
Enter Clerk.

Clerk.

The people from the Crown, your Worship,
and the Rose, and the Antelope, are here, again,
about their Licences.

Jus.

to Mr. H. There! this is what I’ve got by
coming for you. I charged the Butler not to let
this dog in.—Why how can I help it? bid ’em
come again to-morrow.

Clerk.

And here’s a Pauper to be passed, a lame
man with four children.

Mr. H.

Well, turn him over to the Cook, and
let him wait ’till we are at leisure;—he’ll be better
off than in the world at large.

Clerk.

And a Constable has brought up a man for
breaking into Farmer Thompson’s barn last night.

Jus.

Has he? seeming irresolute Well, tell him to
wait too—we are going to be busy now. But, I hope
he wont let the prisoner escape, as he did that dog
Farlow.

Vol. I. C C1v 18

Clerk.

I wish he mayn’t. But, Sir, Justice Manly
is now in the smoaking-room, I have spoke to him
about the Licences—and we mayn’t have another
bench this—

Jus.

Will you please to march, Sir?

Exit Clerk.

Mr. H.

Well done, old Boy! Burn himself could
not have dispatched business with more Expedition.


Going.
Enter Clerk.

Clerk.

The Miller is here, Sir, with a man that he
catched with a Hare that he had taken in a Springe;
but, the poor fellow, please your Worship, has a large
Family!


Hargrave and Justice return.

Mr. H.

What!—a Hare! Come along Justice!


Exit, with the Clerk.
A burst of laughter from the smoaking Room, on
the opposite side; the Justice looks wistfully
back, and then follows Mr. Hargrave.

Scene III.

The Garden.
Enter George, reading.

Geo.

Here’s a special fellow of a Philosopher now,
would persuade that Pleasure has no existence, when
nature abounds with it, courting the senses in a
thousand varied modes; reigning, in the Understanding,
in the faculty of Reason, and seizing the Heart—
in the form of beauteous, all subduing, Woman!—
And one there is—Memory! be faithful to her charms;
shew me the beauteous Form—the Mind beaming in
her eyes—the Blush and Smile that repaid my Admiration

C2r 19
Enter Bella.

Bel.

Oh! monstrous—George Hargrave soliloquizing
in the Garden, whilst the finest girl in England
is in the Parlour! What is become of your Gallantry?

Geo.

Gone, sweet Cousin, gone.

Bel.

Indeed! Who has robbed you of it?

Geo.

A Woman.

Bel.

Come then and regain it from—such a Woman!

Geo.

Is she so beautiful?

Bel.

Beautiful! look at me—I myself am not so
handsome.

Geo.

Ha! ha! ha!—that I confess is an infallible
proof. But, I’ll bet this whole Volume of Wisdom
against one of your Billet-doux, that she’s not within
fifty degrees of her who witched my heart away.

Bel.

Witched indeed, if, in six weeks, it has not
made one Excursion. I never knew you so constant
before; however, I prophecy her Charm is broke.
The divinity who will reign—perhaps for another six
weeks—is coming down the steps with Harriet. But,
that her Rays may not dazzle your mortal sight at
once, shelter yourself behind the clump, and examine
her through the Leaves. George goes and returns.
Well, how d’ye like her?

Geo.

Like her!—The air is all Ambrosia—every
happy star has lent its influence, and, led surely by
the Planet Venus, they have guided the event.

Bel.

Hey dey! what event? This cannot be your
Masquerade Lady!

Geo.

It is, it is—the sweet thief herself! She is
my Wood-Nymph—Oh, I am transported!

Bel.

And I amazed. How can it be?

Geo.

No matter how, whether by Chance or Witchcraft;
—how could my thoughts be gadding now
amongst the Stars!—Pshaw—away—and, at her feet
indulge these transports!

Going. C2 C2v 20
Enter Mr. Drummond.

Mr. D.

So, so, so! and pray what’s the Cause of
all these transports?

Geo.

You are the cause—’tis to you my dear Mr.
Drummond
that I am indebted for the happiness
which dawns on me.

Mr. D.

Then, God grant, my dear boy, the dawn
may not deceive thee—but brighten into the fairest
day. But, how have I been instrumental in all this?

Geo.

That Lady I have seen before at a Masquerade
—she possessed herself of my heart at once—
but, I despaired of ever beholding her again—come,
and present me!

Going.

Mr. D.

Hold, George, hold; perhaps you had
better never be presented; for, though you may have
put her in possession of you heart, it by no means
follows that she has had a corresponding complaisance
for you. Suppose, for instance, such a trifle
—as her’s being engaged?

Bel.

Oh unconscionable! to fancy the o’erbounding
Imagination of a man in Love can pause over
such a reasonable supposition—But, pray George
postpone your entrée till you are more composed;
I’ll go and prepare her for the reception of a strange
creature, that you may appear to advantage.

Exit.

Geo.

Oh I will hope every advantage from so fortunate
a Chance; her heart cannot—shall not—be
engaged;—and she shall be mine! Pardon, my dear
Sir, the effusions of my Joy!

Mr. D.

I do pardon them. ’Tis a strange rencontre;
are you acquainted with the Lady’s Name?

Geo.

No one knew her—She seemed like an angel
descended to astonish each beholder, and vanish the
moment she had fixed his adoration. Unluckily Mrs.
Medlar
stopped me, and a jealous Coxcomb, in the
suite of my Incognita, seized that moment to hurry
her out of the room.

C3r 21

Mr. D.

Your ignorance perhaps I can relieve;
but, you seem so disposed to Raptures, that I hardly
dare tell you that I know something of her family.
Perhaps I should not otherwise have been so ready
to put her in your way.

Geo.

I am convinced you know nothing that will
not justify my Passion!

Mr. D.

This eagerness to believe, might have
been fatal to you. But, you are fortunate; she is the
daughter of a deceased Major Morley, a man to
whose friendship, and elegance of Manners, I was
indebted for happy and rational hours amidst the
bustle of a Camp.

Geo.

Fortunate indeed! for then my passion has
your sanction. But, I thought that, when you received
her, you had not known who—

Mr. D.

I knew her Father’s picture on her bosom.
But, her delicacy was so alarmed at the idea of exposing
the Name of her Family, in such a situation,
that she would not consent to be introduced here,
but on condition of its being concealed.

Geo.

Charming delicacy! I’ll keep her secret—
but—

Mr. D.

Impatient Rogue! Well, come, I’ll introduce
you, and may the moment be auspicious!


Exit.

Geo.

following him Love! sweet Tyrant! I willingly
submit to thee—never may I experience the
cheerless void of Indifference again!

Exit.
C3v 22

Act the Second.

Scene I.

A Court before the house. Enter a Hunt in Uniform.—A Flourish of Horns.

Several.

Hollo! hollo! ye hoicks, Hargrave! ille,
ille, hoa!

First Hunter.

Hollo—indeed! ’tis almost seven—
looking at his watch the scent will be cold. Let’s
rouse the lazy rogue with a Song.

Second Hunt.


Aye, a good thought—come begin.

First Hunt.

Song.

Arouse, and break the bands of Sleep,

Blush, Idler, blush, such hours to keep!

Somnus! what bliss canst thou bestow,

Equal to that which Hunters know!

Whether the mountains they attain,

Or swiftly dart across the plain,

Somnus! what joys canst thou bestow

Equal to those which Hunters know?

Hark, through the Wood, how our music resounds!

Horns are re-echoed more sweet, by the hounds,

Deep throated and clear,

Our spirits they cheer;

They give us such Glee,

No dangers we see,

But follow with pleasure

’Tis Joy beyond measure

To be the first in at the Death, at the Death,

To be the first in at the Death!

Chorus.

Deep throated, &c.

C4r 23
Enter George, from the House.

First Hunt.

Ay! my young Hercules!—But how
in this dress? dont you hunt?

Geo.

Oh, I have only changed Liveries. I used
to wear that of Adonis the Hunter, but I resign it
now for that of his mistress, Venus.

Second Hunt.

And a hazardous service you have
chosen. I should prefer Acteon’s fate to the Caprice
and Insolence of the handsomest coquette in England.

Geo.

Acteon’s fate would be less than you deserve,
if, knowing my Goddess, you should dare profane
her by such a description.

2d Hunt.

May I never start Puss, if I believe your
Goddess to be more than a very Woman;—that is,
a Being whose Soul is vanity, form deceitful, and
manners artificial.

Geo.

Heydey!—turned Satirist on the Sex at eight
and twenty!—what jilting Blowsalind has worked
this miracle?

2d Hunt.

Faith, I take my specimens from higher
schools. Amongst the Blowsalinds there are still
Nature and Honesty; but, examine Drawing-rooms
and Operas—you’ll find Nature discarded, and Honesty
exchanged for Affectation and Hypocrisy;—
so henceforward smacking his whip I abandon all
Ladies but those of the Woods, and pursue only the
simple game to which my hounds conduct.

Geo.

Ha! ha!—until you become Society for
hounds only.


Enter Mr. Hargrave and the Justice.

Mr. H.

So George,—come, you had better mount;
—on the Downs I’ll give you a Lecture upon Air,
and the advantages of a sound constitution, of more C4v 24
real advantage than all you could hear in a musty
college in fifty Terms.

Geo.

I beg Sir to be excused this morning. Tomorrow
I’ll resume my usual post, and lead—where
you only will venture to follow.

Mr. H.

Well—we shall put you to the test!

Exit.

Justice.

to George Yes, yes, you’re a keen Sportsman
—I have seen the game you are in pursuit of,
scudding away to the Garden;—beat the bushes,
and I’ll warrant you’ll start!

First Gent.

Troth, I started a fine young puss a
few days ago;—She was shy and made her doublings,
but I followed close and should infallibly have got
her, if that sly poaching rogue, Drummond, had
not laid a Springe in her way.

Justice.

The very puss I mean! Drummond housed
her here!

First Hunt.

What, belonged she to a Preserve?—
I’ll lag after her no more. Come along Boys—come
along—Ille ye hoics—for a lawful game!


Exeunt, all but George.

Geo.

How critically did Mr. Drummond come to
her relief!—from that brute she would have suffered
every indignity that Ignorance, supported by the
Pride of fortune, could have inflicted.—In the
Garden! that’s fortunate beyond expectation; midst
Groves and Fountains a Lover should tell his tale;
—and the sweet animation which beamed in her eyes
last night, flatters me that she will not hate me for
telling mine.—I’ll go, in all the Confidence of Hope!


Exit.

Scene II.

The Garden. Enter Emily.

Em.

What a heavenly morning! Surely ’tis England
that Summer visits in her very perfection— sh C5r 25
is no where else so lovely.—And, what a sweet
Garden! But, should I not divert my attention from
these, to commune with my Heart! Is it the brightness
of the Morning, the verdure of the Garden, or
the melody of the birds, that gives thee these enchanting
sensations?—Ah, no—it is that thou hast
found thy Lord—it is that I have again seen the
man, who, since I first beheld him, has been the only
Image in my mind. How different from the empty,
the presuming Baldwin! Yet, to him I owe this
obligation, that, if his hateful perserverance had not
forced me from London, I might have seen but once
the man who, that once, possessed himself of my
tenderest wishes.—Ha!

starting.
Enter George.

Geo.

Abroad so early, Madam! In London, fine
Ladies are yet in their first repose.

Em.

If the Morning had been less enticing—yet,
it would have been impossible to have resisted the
chearful call of the Hunters.

Geo.

Oh, it was my good Genius, I thank her,
that inspired them, and did me the favour to lead me
hither.

Em.

Does she usually exert herself to no better
purpose; her claims to your gratitude seem but
weak!

Geo.

’Till lately I thought so, and supposed her
the worst Genius that ever fell to the lot of poor
mortal. But she has retrieved herself by one or two
capital hits, and made me believe her one of the best
disposed Sylphs in all the regions of Fancy.

Em.

Smiling You recommend your attendant
very strongly. Have you any intention to part with
her?

Geo.

I’ll willingly exchange her, if your Genius
will be so obliging as to take a fancy to me; I’ll
accept her with all my heart, and give you mine.

C5v 26

Em.

You would lose by the exchange.

Geo.

Impossible! My quondam friend would say
a thousand things for me; so I should obtain your
good opinion, which would be gain—whatever touching
his bosom
I might lose to attain it.

Em.

Your Genius is gallant I perceive. But I
was on the point of leaving the garden;—the Ladies
I imagine are descended by this time.

Geo.

Indeed they are not. But, though they were,
these are precious moments which I must not lose!
May I presume to use them in telling you, how happy
I am made by the event which placed you in my
Father’s house? But you perhaps have forgot the
presumptuous Tancred, who gave such disturbance
to the Gentleman honoured with the charge of protecting
you at the Masquerade?

Em.

No, Sir, I remember;—and, if I dont mistake,
you were nearly engaged in a fracas with that
Gentleman. I was happy when I observed you
stopped by a Mask, and seized that moment to leave
the room.

Geo.

A moment, Madam, which I have never
ceased to regret, ’till now;—but now, felicity so unexpected,
and unhoped for—

Em.

All this is out of place here, Sir. Under a
mask a Shepherd may sigh, or an Eastern Prince
indulge in florid speeches, but the delicacies to be
observed in real life are quite incompatible with the
stile of a Masquerade.

Geo.

You, who are thus severe on supposed Compliment,
will yet I hope treat more favorably a
tender and respectful Passion.

Em.

Sir!

Geo.

I comprehend what your Delicacy must feel,
and will therefore only add that, from the first
moment I beheld you, my Heart has known no other
object. You have been the Mistress of its wishes,
and of its fate.

Em.

hesitates Indeed, Sir, this—at a time when C6r 27
I must appear in so strange a light to your family,
hurts me greatly—surely my situation here ought—

Geo.

I acknowledge, Madam, the confession I have
dared to make nothing can excuse—but, the peculiarity
of our situation. In a few moments your Uncle
may arrive, and snatch you from us—such an opportunity
never may be mine again—


Enter Mr. Drummond.

Mr. D.

So, so, my young ones, have I found you?
’Tis a most delicious morning;—but, is it usual with
you, Madam, to taste the air so early?

Em.

Yes, Sir, in the Country at least, I seldom
sacrifice such hours to sleep.

Mr. D.

Aye, ’tis to that practice you are indebted
for the roses in your cheeks. What, I suppose, you
brought the Lady into the Garden, George, to give
her a lecture on the beauties of Flowers—or—on
other beauties—or, perhaps, more abstracted subjects
have engaged your thoughts.

Geo.

With such an Object before me, my thoughts
cannot be abstracted, Sir. I found the Lady here,
and had scarcely paid her my Morning Compliments
when you appeared.

Mr. D.

For which you do not thank me, I presume.
But come, Madam, you are my Ward, until
I have the pleasure of presenting you to your Uncle;
and I come to conduct you to breakfast. George,
you may follow—but, keep your distance!


Exit, with Emily.

Geo.

Distance!—as well might you expect shadow
not to neighbour sunshine, or erring mortal to give
up hope of mercy. With what sweet confidence she
gives her hand to Mr. Drummond!—if these are the
Privileges of Age, I’ll be young no longer!

Exit.
C6v 28

Scene III.

Lady Dinah’s dressing-room.
Lady Dinah at her Toilette, Susan attending.

Lady D.

Both in the Garden?—and in deep conversation!

Susan.

Yes, my Lady, I saw them from the window;
he looked eagerly in her face, and she blushed, and
looked confused.

Lady D.

Confused indeed!—yes, so the impertinent
affected to appear last night; though it was
evident that she had neither eyes or ears but for Mr.
Hargrave’s
Son.

Susan.

I dare to say she is some Imposter. Husbands,
as we servants say, in good truth are not so
plenty, that a woman need to run away to escape
one.

Lady D.

I have no doubt of her being a low
person. And, as to her Prettiness—’tis that of a
wooden Doll; cherry cheeks, and eyes that, from
want of expression, might be taken for glass.

Susan.

I wonder that Mr. Hargrave did not stand
by his own opinion, and let her stay where she was;
but, whatever Mr. Drummond says is Law here.

Lady D.

Because Mr. Hargrave imagines he’ll
make his son his Heir—but, if he does, he’ll only
come in for his share with the Paupers of the village.

Susan.

Oh, nothing more; for that Mr. Drummond
knows no better than to believe every melancholy
tale that’s told him—(here’s the Bow, my Lady)—
but, if he fancied her prettiness was in danger, he
had better have kept her in his own house, and stood
guard himself.

Lady D.

Aye, whatever keeps him at home, would
preserve his neighbours from much inconvenient
interference.—Want of Rest looking in the Glass C7r 29
absolutely transforms me. The detestable Horns,
and their noisy accompaniment waked me from refreshing
Sleep. How do I look to day, Susan?

Sus.

Oh, charmingly, my Lady.

Lady D.

’Tis a most provoking circumstance that
the colour of my hair should be so very soon changed
—but, the Liquid entirely hides that accident, I
believe.

Sus.

Entirely, my Lady;—and then the Bloom, it
is impossible to distinguish it from Nature.

Lady D.

You need not speak so loud!—Pray what
do you think of the young Collegian?

Sus.

Oh, my Lady, he is the sweetest, smartest,
man—exactly like the picture of your Ladyship’s
Brother that died when he was Twenty.

Lady D.

People used to say that brother, and
myself, bore a strong resemblance.

Sus.

I dare say you did, my Lady; for, there’s
something in the turn of young Mr. Hargrave’s face,
vastly like your Ladyship’s.


Stooping and laughing behind her.

Lady D.

Do you think so?—why then Susan, I
believe I may trust you!—I think you can be faithful.

Sus.

Most surely, my Lady, I would rather die
than betray your Ladyship.

Lady D.

Well then—I protest I hardly know how
to acknowledge it—But as it must—

Sus.

What my Lady? Your Ladyship alarms me.

Lady D.

I too am alarmed, but I know your faith
Sighs—There will soon be a most intimate, and
never to be dissolved alliance between me—and—
Young Mr. Hargrave.

Sus.

Law! Young Mr. Hargrave!

Lady D.

Yes, young Mr. Hargrave, Madam.
What dost stretch thy eyes so widely at, wench! Mr.
George Hargrave
, I say, is to be my Husband—I am
to be his Wife—Is’t past thy comprehension?

Sus.

I must humbly beg your Ladyship’s pardon
—the whole house concludes your Ladyship is to C7v 30
marry Old Mr Hargrave!—but, ’tis clear, the Son
is a much more suitable match for your Ladyship!

Lady D.

Old Mr Hargrave indeed! the whole
house is very impertinent in its Conclusions. Go and
bring the Bergamot hither.—Exit Susan. I marry
old Mr Hargrave! monstrous absurdity!—and, by so
preposterous a union, become the Mother of that fine
young fellow his Son! ’twould be insupportable—no
Mistress Susan, ’tis Young Mr. HargraveEnter
Susan, suppressing a Laugh
Here, scent that handkerchief,
whilst I write to my Agent to prepare for
the Writings.

Exit.

Susan.

Scenting the handkerchief To prepare for
the writings! a very fine business indeed, and what
you’ll sorely repent of, my good Lady, take my word
for it. Not all these scented waters—nor any other
waters—will be able to give you sufficient spirits this
time twelvemonth. “A never to be dissolved Alliance”
between Fifty and Twenty, ha! ha! ha!—
I shall expire with the ridiculous Secret—I must find
Jarvis, to tell him—“Never to be dissolved Alliance!”
ha! ha! ha!

Exit.

Scene IV.

An Apartment. Enter George, Harriet, and Bella.

Bel.

What Transformations this Love can make!
You look as grave, George, and speak as sententiously,
as a Fortune-teller.

Geo.

And is it only to preserve your Spirits, Bella,
that you keep your heart so cold?

Bel.

The Recipe is certainly not a bad one, if we
may judge from the Effects, on your spirits, of a
heart inflamed by Love. But, I advise you, George,
not to let an appearance of Gravity steal upon you—
’tis the most dangerous character in the world for
you.

C8r 31

Geo.

How so?

Bel.

Oh, whilst you can sustain that of a giddy,
thoughtless, undesigning, Great Boy, all the impertinent
and foolish things you commit will be excused
—laughed at—nay, if accompanied by a certain
manner, they will be applauded. But, do the same
things with a grave reflecting face, and an important
air, and you’ll be condemned, nem. connemine contradicente.


Enter Servant.

Serv.

Sir Charles Seymour is driving up the Avenue,
Sir.

Exit.

Geo.

Is he?—I am rejoiced at his arrival.

Harriet.

Sir Charles Seymour here Brother? I
thought you told us yesterday that he was on the
point of Marriage.

Geo.

Well my dear Harriet and what then? Is his
being on the point of Marriage any reason why he
should not be here?—He is now hastening to pay
his devoirs to the Lady. I left him yesterday at a
friend’s house on the road, and he promised to be
here to day—but I hear him.

Exit.

Bel.

Harriet! you look quite pale. I had no idea
that Sir Charles was of serious consequence to you.

Harriet.

My dear Bella—I am ashamed of myself.
I’ll go with you to your dressing room—I must not
see him whilst I look so ridiculously; I dread my
brother’s Raillery.

Bel.

Come then, hold by me. Deuce take it,
what business have Women with Hearts? Interesting
men should be shut out of Society, ’till they grow
harmless by becoming Husbands!

Exeunt.
Enter George, and Sir Charles.

Geo.

Ha! the birds are flown.

Sir Ch.

Let us pursue them then.

Geo.

Pho!—they are not worth pursuing. Bella’s
a Coquette, and Harriet in Love.

C8v 32

Sir Ch.

Harriet in Love!

Geo.

Aye, she is indeed!—but that’s nothing. I
have Intelligence for thee man—my Incognita’s
found, she’s now in the house—my beauteous Wood
Nymph!

Sir Ch.

Miss Hargrave’s heart another’s!

Geo.

Miss Hargrave’s heart anothers! Why, my
Sister’s heart is certainly engaged. But how’s all
this?

Sir Ch.

O George!—this blow destracts me.—
Though I had not, ’till now, summoned courage to
declare myself—I love—I love your Sister—to distraction
doat on her!

Geo.

Oh—oh! I’m to have your Secrets confided
to me, Sir, when they can be but an incumbrance!
Why did not you tell me this before? If your Heart
had been as open to me, as mine has ever been to
you, I might have served you; but now—

Sir Ch.

Oh, reproach me not, but pity my disappointed
hope, I long have loved her.

Geo.

And not confide your Secret to me! You
distrusted me, Charles, and will be properly punished.

Sir Ch.

Fool, fool, that I was, thus to have planned
a superstructure of happiness for all my life, that in
one moment dissolves into air! I cannot trust myself
to see her—I must leave you.

Geo.

Indeed you shall not leave me, Seymour.—
On what Foundation did you build your superstructure,
that you seem so greatly disappointed?—Had
my Sister favoured your addresses?

Sir Ch.

No, I never presumed to make her any;
my Fortune was so small that I had no hopes of obtaining
your father’s consent—and therefore made it
a point of Honour not to endeavour to gain her affection.

Geo.

Aside. Yes, you took mighty great care!

Sir Ch.

But my Uncle’s Will having removed every
cause of fear on that head, I flattered myself I had
nothing else to apprehend.

D1r 33

Geo.

Courage, and your difficulties may vanish!
’Tis your humble distant Lover who has sung,
through every Age, his scornful Phillis. You never
knew a bold fellow, who could love women without
mistaking them for Angels, whine about their
cruelty.

Sir Ch.

You tell me your Sister’s heart is engaged
—then what have I to struggle for? it was her Heart
I wished to possess. Could Miss Hargrave be indelicate
enough—I am sure she could not—to bestow
her hand on me without her Heart, I would reject
her.

Geo.

Bravo!—nobly resolved! keep it up by all
means. Come, now I’ll introduce you to one of the
finest girls you ever saw in your life—but remember,
you are not to suffer your heart to be interested
there, for that’s my quarry—and peril to the man
who attempts to rob me of my prize!

Sir Ch.

Oh you are very secure, I assure you; my
heart is impenetrable now forever!

Exeunt.

Scene V.

The Garden.
Enter Hargrave and a Servant.

Mr. H.

Run and tell my Son I want to speak to
him here. Exit Servant.
Her Forty thousand pounds will just buy the Greenwood
Estate
: we shall then have more land than
any family in the County, and a Borough of our
own into the bargain. Aye—But suppose George
should not have a mind to marry her? Why, as
to his Mind, when two parties struggle, the weaker
must give way;—the match is for the advancement
of your Fortune, say I, and if that cant satisfy your
mind, you must teach it, what I have always taught
you—Obedience. Vol. I. D D1v 34
Enter George.
Oh, George, there’s an affair of consequence that—
that—

Geo.

I am all Attention, Sir.

Mr. H.

I—I dont design that you shall return to
College any more. I have other views, which I hope
will not be disagreeable to you.—You—you like
Lady Dinah, you say?

Geo.

Hesitates She is a Lady of great Erudition
without doubt.

Mr. H.

I dont know what your notions may be
of her Age; I could wish her a few years younger,
but—

Geo.

Pardon me, Sir, I think that to her Age there
can be no objection, and the preference her Ladyship
gives to our family is certainly a high compliment.

Mr. H.

Oh—oh! then you are acquainted already
with what I was going to communicate to you—I
am surprised at that!

Geo.

Matrimonial Schemes are seldom long concealed,
Sir.

Mr. H.

I was a little uneasy about what you might
think of this affair, on which I have never conversed
with any one but Lady Dinah; but perhaps she may
have hinted it to her Woman, and then I should not
wonder if the whole parish knew it—and all the
neighbouring parishes too! However, you have no
objection, and that’s enough; though, if you had, I
must have had my way, George.

Geo.

Without doubt, Sir.

Mr. H.

Have you spoken to Lady Dinah on the
subject?

Geo.

Spoke—who I Sir?—n--o—Sir. I could not
think of addressing Lady Dinah on so delicate an
affair, without your permission.

Mr. H.

Well then, my dear Boy, I would have D2r 35
you speak to her now. And, I think, the sooner the
better.

Geo.

To be sure, Sir—I shall obey you.

Mr. H.

Well, you have set my heart at Rest—I
am as happy as a Prince.—I never fixed my mind
on any thing, in my life, so much as I have done on
this marriage; it would have galled me sorely if
you had been against it—but you are a good boy,
George, a very good boy, and I’ll go in, and prepare
Lady Dinah for your Visit.

Exit.

Geo.

Why, my dear father, the prospect of your
nuptials has quite elated you. But, why must I
make speeches to the Lady?


Enter Bella.

Bel.

What, have you been opening your heart to
your father, George?

Geo.

No, he has been opening his to me!—he has
been making me the confident of his passion for Lady
Dinah
.

Bel.

No!—ha! ha! ha!—is it possible?—What stile
does he talk in? is it flames and darts—or Esteem
and Sentiment?

Geo.

I dont imagine my good father thinks of
either;—her Fortune, I presume, is the object. I
shall not venture to hint an objection; for contradiction,
you know, only gives him fresh ardor: Where
are Seymour and Harriet?

Bel.

Your Sister is in the drawing-room, and Sir
Charles
I just now saw in the Orange-Walk, with his
arms folded thus—and his eyes fixed on a Shrub, in
the most Penseroso stile you can conceive! Why,
George, he has no appearance of a happy youth in a
state of transmigration into a Bridegroom!

Geo.

Ha! ha! ha!

Bel.

Why do you laugh?

Geo.

At the embarrassment I have thrown the
simpletons into—ha! ha! ha!

D2 D2v 36

Bel.

What simpletons? What embarrassment?

Geo.

That you cannot guess, my sweet Cousin,
with all your penetration.

Bel.

I shall expire if you wont let me know it—
now do—pray George—come—be pleased to tell
me!

Curtseying.

Geo.

No, no, you look so pretty whilst you are
coaxing, that I must see you in that humour a little
longer.

Bel.

That’s unkind! Come—tell me the Secret—
though I believe I begin to guess it!

Geo.

Nay, then I must tell you; for I shall lose
the pleasure of obliging you if you should find it out.
I have made each believe that the other has a different
engagement—and yet Seymour and my Sister are
equally attached to each other!

Bel.

Oh, I’m rejoiced to hear it.

Geo.

Rejoiced! I assure you, Sir George has highly
offended me.

Bel.

How so? He is your Friend, and in all respects
an eligible match for your Sister.

Geo.

Very true—but he has been as chary of his
Secret, as though I had not deserved his untmost confidence.

Bel.

I believe he never addressed your Sister.

Geo.

So he pretends, and perhaps he did not in
Form; but that is a ridiculous Subterfuge;—he
tampered with her Heart, by silent tender observances,
the surest battery when there is time to play
it off. If any man, who had thus obtained my Sister’s
heart, had left her a prey to disappointment, and then
insisted—that he had said nothing—my resentment
should have taught him that his conduct was not less
dishonourable, than if he had knelt at her feet, and
sworn a thousand oaths.

Bel.

Mercy on us! If every girl had such a Snapdragon
of a brother, no Beau would venture to come
near her.

Geo.

I perceive that Sir Charles has been heaping D3r 37
up the measure of his offences some time. I recollect
now the tricks he played to get Harriet’s picture.—
At last he begged it to get the Drapery copied for his
Sister’s;—I have not a doubt that it is at this moment
in his bosom, though he has sworn a thousand times
that it is still at the Painter’s.

Bel.

Ha! I’ll fly and tell her.—If I dont mistake,
she’d rather have her picture there, than ranged in a
Gallery of Beauties.

Geo.

Destruction—stop!—And pray why are you
not as angry as I am? Shut out, by parchment provisoes,
from all the flutters of Courtship yourself—
you had a right to participate in Harriet’s.

Bel.

Very true. But what pleasure can we have
in tormenting two hearts so attached to each other?

Geo.

I do mean to plague them a little—and it will
be the greatest favour we can do them; for they are
such sentimental people, you know, that they’ll
blush, and hesitate, and torment each other six
months—before Explanation. By alarming their
Jealousy, they’ll betray themselves in as many hours.

Bel.

So there’s not one grain of Mischief in all
this!—all downright Charity! Well, really, in that
light, there is some reason—

Geo.

Aye, more than is necessary to induce you
to join in it, even though there were mischief;—so
promise assistance with a good grace.

Bel.

Well, I do promise; for I really think—

Geo.

Oh, I’ve your Word—no more parley.

Bel.

A-propos! Here’s Harriet—I’m just as angry
as you wish me, and you shall have a good account
of her.


Enter Harriet.

Harriet.

Brother, Mr. Drummond I fancy wonders
at your absence; he’s alone with the Lady—

Geo.

He possesses a privilege then that half mankind
would grudge him!

Exit. D3v 38

Bel.

Have you seen Sir Charles yet?

Harriet.

Indeed I have not. I confess I was so
weak as to retire twice from the Drawing-room, because
I heard his Voice; though I was conscious my
absence must appear odd, and fearful the cause might
be suspected.

Bel.

Ah! pray be careful that you give him no
reason to guess it. I advise you to treat him with
the greatest Coldness, Harriet.

Har.

Most certainly I shall, whatever it costs me.
It would be the most cruel mortification if I thought
he could ever suspect my weakness. I wonder, Bella,
whether the Lady he is to marry—is as hamndsome as
George describes her.

Bel.

What is that to you, child?—never think
about it. If you take any interest about him, you’ll
never behave with a proper degree of Scorn.

Har.

Oh, do not fear it; I assure you I possess a
vast deal of scorn for him.

Bel.

(aside. I’m sure you fib!)—Well, now for a
Sample, he is coming this way I see.

Har.

Is he? come then let us go!

Bel.

Yes, yes, you are quite a Heroine I perceive.
Surely you will not fly, to prove your indifference?
Stay to mortify him with an appearance of Carelessness
and Good humour.—For instance; look at him
with the unmeaning eye with which one looks over
an acquaintance shabbily dressed.—When he speaks
to you, look another way, and, suddenly recollecting
yourself, exclaim—“What are you saying, Sir
Charles! I beg pardon, I really did not attend”

then without minding his Answer,—“Bella, I was
thinking of that elegant fellow who opened the Ball
with Lady Harriet—did you ever see such expressive
eyes? and then the air with which he danced!”

Har.

You’ll find me a bad scholar, I believe,—
however I’ll go through the interview if you’ll assist.

Bel.

Fear me not.

D4r 39
Enter Sir Charles.

Sir Ch.

Ladies, I had despaired of finding you—
I hope I don’t intrude.

Bel.

Sir Charles Seymour can never be an unwelcome
intruder.

Sir Ch.

Miss Hargrave—I have not had the happiness
of paying my respects to you since I arrived—
I hope you have enjoyed perfect Spirits since I left
Hargrave place.

Confusedly.

Har.

Affecting Gaiety. My Spirits are seldom so
good as they seem to be now, Sir.

Sir Ch.

You looks indeed speak you in possession
of that happiness I wish you! Sighing. You,
Miss Sydney, are always in spirits.

Bel.

In general, Sir. I have not Wisdom enough
to destroy my happiness by Reflection.

Sir Ch.

Do you deem being wise a proof of unhappiness?

Bel.

One might really think so; for wise folks are
always grave.

Har.

Then I’ll never aim at Wisdom;—henceforward
I’ll be all Gaiety, devote myself to pleasure,
and live only to laugh!

Bel.

Unless you do as I do—laugh at your own
absurdities—you may not always find a subject,
Cousin.

Har.

Oh, we need not confine our views at home;
the world abounds with subjects for Mirth;—the
Men will furnish a sufficient number, though other
resources fail.

Sir Ch.

Miss Hargrave was not always so severe.

Har.

Fie, Sir Charles—dont mistake Pleasantry for
severity;—but, exuberant Spirits frequently overflow
in impertinence—I pardon your thinking that mine do.

Sir Ch.

Impertinence! Surely you cannot suppose
I meant to—

Har.

Nay, Bella, I appeal to you; did not Sir
Charles
intimate some such thing?

D4v 40

Bel.

Why—a—I dont know—To be sure there
was a kind of distant intimation;—though, perhaps,
Sir Charles only means—that you are rather awkward
in your merriment!—ha! ha!

Sir Ch.

Vastly well, Ladies!—well then we’ll
mutually agree to understand expressions in what
manner we please; and therefore—when a Lady’s
eyes speak Disdain, I may construe it Love!

Har.

That’s an error men are apt to fall into;
but the expressions of the eyes are always sincere—
they come from the Heart!

Sir. Ch.

Then pray examine mine, Madam, and,
by the report you make, I shall judge of your proficiency
in their language.

Bel.

Oh, I’ll examine them, Sir Charles;—I am
a better judge than Harriet. Let me see—aye—’tis
so—the one talks Love and Jealousy—the other of
Hope and a Wedding. Now, dont I read well?

Sir Ch.

Could but that hope be fulfilled, I would
ask no more of Fate! Will You examine whether
she reads correctly or not, Madam?

To Harriet.

Har.

You are so entirely satisfied with Bella’s performance,
Sir, that I will not attempt to render them
differently. Come, Cousin, let us return to our company.
Impatiently.

Bel.

Apart Fie! that air of Pique is enough to
ruin all.

Sir Ch.

Do you then not find the garden agreeable,
Miss Hargrave? I begin to think it charming!

Har.

I find nothing particularly agreeable in it,
Sir,—and the happy seek Society! I wondered to see
you alone. Come Bella.

Bel.

Bravo!

Exit, with Harriet.

Sir Ch.

Why,—what is become of that dove-like
Softness which threw me into dreams of bliss?—
Seek Society! Oh Harrietmy Harriet! to possess
thy society, with the hope that once glowed in my
bosom, would be a blessing for which I would willingly
sacrifice every other hope in Life

Exit.
D5r 41

Act the Third.

Scene I.

An Apartment.
Lady Dinah, and Mr. Hargrave, sitting.

Mr. H.

I am surprised Lady Dinah at your thinking
in this manner. When I spoke to my Son this
morning, I assure you he expressed a great deal of
Satisfaction about the affair—I wonder indeed he has
not been here.

Lady D.

Now, I almost blame you, Mr Hargrave
—pardon me—but you have certainly been too precipitate;
your Son has scarcely been at home four
and twenty hours, and cannot possibly have received
any Impression! or formed an Idea of my Character.
—He has been—I must say too—so much engaged
with other persons, that I have had no opportunity
of conversing with him; and how, so circumstanced,
can he have formed a Judgment of his own Heart?

Mr. H.

Why—he has given the best proof in the
world that he has formed a Judgment, for he told
me, this morning, that the prospect of the union
made him quite happy! I dont know what other
proof a man can give that he knows his own heart;
—and let me tell you, Madam, I have accustomed
my children to pay a proper regard to my Inclination!

Lady D.

I am apprehensive, Sir, that Mr. George D5v 42
Hargrave’s Obedience may influence him more than
I could exactly wish. And, I assure you, I cannot
think of uniting myself to any man, who does not
prefer me for my own sake.

Mr. H.

His Obedience to me influence him more
than you could wish! Why really I dont understand
you my Lady.—(Aside. Zooks! I thought she had
been a sensible woman.)

Lady D.

Not understand me Mr. Hargrave! I
have too high an opinion of your Good Sense, to suppose
that I can be unintelligible to you!

Mr. H.

My opinion is that an obedient Son is
likely to make a kind husband. George is a fine
young fellow as any in England, as I have often told
you; and there’s not a woman in the kingdom, who
might not be proud to call him her husband.—Too
obedient!

Lady D.

(Aside. Bless me! this man has no
Ideas!) You mistake me, Mr. Hargrave; I do not
mean to lessen the Merit of Obedience—but—I confess
—I wish him to have a more delicate, a more
tender motive, for offering his hand to me.

Mr. H.

Why, look ye, you have a great Understanding
to be sure—and I confess you talk above my
reach—but, I must nevertheless take the liberty to
blame your Ladyship. A person of your Ladyship’s
experience, and, allow me to say, your Date in the
world, must know that there occasions on which
we should not be too nice!

Lady D.

Too nice! Mr. Hargrave. Rising.

Mr. H.

Aye, too nice, my Lady.—A Boy and
Girl of Eighteen have Time before them; they may
be whimsical, and play at shilly-shally, as long as they
have a mind. But, my Lady, at a certain Season,
we must leave off these tricks, or be content to go
to the grave, old Bachelors and—

shrugging his
shoulders

Lady D.

I am utterly astonished! Mr. Hargrave,
you surely mean to offend—you insult me!

D6r 43

Mr. H.

No—by no means—I would not offend
your Ladyship for the World. I have the highest Respect
for you, and shall rejoice to call you my Daughter;
if you are not so, it will be your own fault; for George,
I am sure, is ready, the moment you give your consent.
The writings shall be drawn when you think
proper, and the marriage brought about without
delay.

Lady D.

Well, Sir, I really do not know what to
say.—When Mr. George Hargrave shall imagine it
a proper period to talk to me on the subject—I—I—

Mr. H.

Well, well—I allow this is a topic on
which a Lady does not chuse to explain herself, but
to the principal. I waited on your Ladyship only to
inform you that I had talked to my Son concerning
the affair, and to incline you, when he waits on you,
to give him a favourable hearing.

Lady D.

Mr. Hargrave, a person of your Son’s
merit is intitled to a proper attention from any woman
he addresses.

Mr. H.

There—now we are right again; I was
fearful that you had not liked my Boy, and that your
Difficulties arose from that quarter; but, since you
like George, ’tis all very well, very well.—I am sure
George loves you; I’ll go and send him to you this
moment, and he shall tell you so himself—you’ll
surely believe him!

Exit.

Lady D.

Mr. Hargrave, Mr. Hargrave! bless me,
what an impetuous obstinate Old Man. What can I
do—I am in an exceedingly indelicate situation—he
will tell his Son that I am waiting here in expectation
of a Declaration of Love—surely never woman
was in so awkward an embarras! I wish the son
possessed a little of the Father’s impetuosity—this
would not then have happened.

D6v 44
Enter George.

Geo.

Your Ladyship’s most obedient Servant.

Lady D.

Curtseying confusedly S-i-r—

Geo.

Very gravely. My father permits me to
make my acknowledgments to your Ladyship, for the
Honour you design our Family.

Lady D.

I must confess, Sir, this Interview is
somewhat—unexpected—it is indeed quite premature
—I was not prepared for it—and I am really in great
Confusion!

Geo.

I am sensible that a visit of this kind, to a
Lady of your Delicacy, must be a little distressing;
but I intreat you to be composed. I hope you will
have no reason to regret a resolution which myself,
and the rest of the family, have so much cause to rejoice
in—particularly my Father.

Lady D.

You are very polite, Sir. We have had
so little opportunity of conversing, Mr. Hargrave,
that I am afraid you express rather your Father’s
sentiments than your own. It is impossible, indeed,
from so short a knowledge, that you can have formed
any Sentiments of me yourself.

Geo.

Pardon me, my sentiments for you are full
of Respect! and I am convinced your Qualities will
excite the Veneration of all who have the honour of
being connected with you. (Aside. My father could
hardly have done it better).

Lady D.

(Aside. Why this young man has certainly
been taught to make Love by his Tutor at College!)
—I think it necessary to assure you, Sir, that—that
this affair has been brought thus forward by Mr.
Hargrave
, and that the Proposals he made, in which
it was evident his whole Heart was concerned, were
quite unexpected.

Geo.

I have not the least doubt of it, my Lady,
nor am I at all surprised at my Father’s earnestness D7r 45
on a subject so interesting.—(Aside. What can she
mean by apologizing to me!)

Lady D.

It would certainly have been proper,
Sir, to have allowed you time to have formed a judgment
for yourself.

Geo.

The time has been quite sufficient. I highly
approve the steps my father has taken; but, if I did
not, Obedience to his determination would certainly
have prevented my opposing them.

Lady D.

Aside. Really! A pretty extraordinary
confession!

Geo.

(Aside. I must end this ridiculous visit!)
Shall I have the honour of conducting your Ladyship
to the company?

Lady D.

Sir!—N-o—Sir! I have some orders to
give my woman; I will rejoin the Ladies in a few
minutes.

Geo.

Then—I’ll wish your Ladyship a good morning!

Exit.

Lady D.

Amazement! what a visit from a Lover!
Is this the language in which men usually talk to
women with whom they are on the point of Marriage?
—Respect! Veneration! Obedience to his Father!
—And—“Shall I have the honour of conducting
your Ladyship to the Company?”
—A pretty Loverlike
request truly!—But, this coldness to me proceeds
from a cause I now understand. This morning, what
fire was there in his eyes! what animation in his
countenance! whenever he addressed himself to that
creature Mr. Drummond brought here? Would his
request to her have been, to conduct her into Company?
—no—no!—But I must be cautious—I must
be patient now;—but, you will find Sir, when I am
your Wife, your glances, if not directed to me, shall,
at least in my presence, be addressed to no other!


Exit.
Scene II. D7v 46

Scene II.

Another Apartment. Bella playing.

Bella[Speaker label not present in original source]

Song.

Haste, haste, ye glowing steeds of Day,

In Ocean’s bosom hide the beams;

Mild Evening, in her pensive grey,

More soft and more alluring seems.

Yet why invoke the pensive Eve?

Or, sighing, wish away the Morn?

Their interchanging can’t relieve

The Heart by pangs of Absence torn!

Away with Music! it only makes me melancholy.
Heighho! the Lovers infect me I believe.—Attractive
Italy! what are your Spells? Oh, for Fortunatus’s
Cap! I’d convince myself in a moment whether my
doubts are justly founded.—And, suppose they are,
what then? Ah! whilst they think me but Ice, the
gaiety of my disposition only serves to conceal a Heart
as susceptible as those of the most tender of my sex—
Enter Emily.
ah, my dear Madam, I am rejoiced to see you; I
have been just long enough alone to be tired of myself,
and charmed at so agreeable a relief.

Em.

Can that ever be the case with Miss Sydney?
I though you had possessed the happiest flow of
Spirits in the world.

Bel.

Oh! your great Spirits are mere Jack-alanterns
in the brain, dancing about, shining, and
making Vagaries; whilst those who possess Happiness,
enjoy their Treasure soberly and quietly.

D8r 47
Enter George.

Geo.

Ladies in Council!—on Fashion or News?

Bel.

On a less important subject—laughing at the
Slaves we have, and forging chains for more.

Geo.

I dont believe it;—for, Beauties have no Contrivances.
Nature spares them the trouble; for
Schemes, she substitutes sparkling eyes, timid blushes,
and a Multitude of Graces gliding o’er the form.


Looking at Emily.

Bel.

Well, after all, men are delightful creatures;
their Flattery, in conjunction with Cards and Scandal,
help one through the day tolerably well. I dont
know how we should exist without all these, in the
Country.

Geo.

And which of them would you relinquish in
Town?

Bel.

Not Flattery, because it keeps one in Spirits,
and gives a glow to the Complexion.—Scandal
you may take away;—but pray leave us Cards, to
keep Fashionable Crouds awake!

Geo.

You would give up Scandal to substitute, I
suppose—Conquest.

Bel.

Ridiculous! Conquest is not such an object
with Women as the Men imagine. I, for one, should
conceive a Net, that would catch the hearts of the
whole sex, a property of very little value.

Geo.

But you would think it a very pleasant one,
my Gentle Coz; for, at least archly you’d pick
out one happy Favorite, before you gave the rest to
despair.

Bel.

Positively no—I dont know one that I should
not let escape with the rest.

Geo.

Now, how can you fib with such an unblushing
face? I’ll give you to Emily Bella’s Secret.
She has, at this moment, an Image in her heart
that says—Oh fie! to her tongue.

Bel.

Indeed Mr. Effrontery!—whose Image?

D8v 48

Geo.

Listen with greediest ear; to catch the transporting
sound!—breathe not e’en softest Zephyrs
whilst I articulate the name of—

Bel.

stopping her ears Oh, I wont hear it!

Geo.

Belville!

Loudly.

Bel.

Oh, frightful!—Dont attend.—George’s belief
is always under the influence of his Fancy.

Em.

If I may judge from your Looks, he has not,
in this instance, hinted at a Fiction.

Bel.

His guess would have been as good, if he
had named Prester John.

Geo.

H-r-r-m—I with it may be so! for I have
heard a story about a certain Lady upon the Continent,
whom a certain Gentleman—

Bel.

Thinks handsomer than Bella Sydney
mortifying—ha, ha, ha!

Geo.

Nay more, to whom he devotes his hours.

Bel.

Petulantly His Heart!

Geo.

On whom he doats.

Bel.

Pshaw!

Geo.

Grows melancholy.

Bel.

Nonsense!

Geo.

Fights for her.

Bel.

Ridiculous!

Geo.

Lives only at her feet.

Bel.

You are really very insupportable, Sir!—do
find some other subject to amuse yourself.

Geo.

Ha! ha! ha! the gudgeon has bit! See, Miss
Morley
, a Coquette struggling with serious Love!
Are not those pouts, and angry blushes, proofs of
Belville’s happiness?

Em.

I cannot perceive these proofs—I think you
flatter Mr. Belville too highly.

Bel.

Oh, you are a good Girl! and, I assure you,
perfectly right. Lovers, thank our stars! are too
plentiful, for an absent one to give much pain.—
(Apart to George.—What! turn your arms upon
your associate, George? I’ll break the League, and
discover all.)

E1r 49

Geo.

You dare not—you love Mischief too well;
it is as dear to you as the sighs of your Lover.

Bel.

A-propos! where is Sir Charles?

Geo.

In the garden, probably—sighing to the
winds;—and I wish you’d find him, and leave us.

Bel.

Why, aye—the winds perhaps will waft his
sighs to Harriet, and she must not hear them yet—
and so, Sir Charles

Exit.

Em.

Oh, pray make me one of your party!—

Going.

Geo.

Stay, I intreat you. Believe me they will
not thank you—come I’ll tell you all about it—

Em.

I’ll hear it from Miss Sydney.

Geo.

Nay, if you are determined—

Exeunt.

Scene III.

The Garden.
Enter Harriet.

Harriet[Speaker label not present in original source]

In vain do I endeavour to conceal it from myself
—this spot has charms for me that I can find in no
other! Here have I seen—perhaps for the last time
Sir Charles Seymour. Bella’s presence was unlucky
—I should have heard him! To be sure talking
of Love to me would have been an insult that I
must have resented—and yet, ’tis the only subject
on which I could have wished to have heard him!—
This is distressing—he is here again—he haunts this
place. He does not observe me; I’ll conceal myself,
lest, unaided by Bella, I should not keep up
my new character.

Goes behind an Arbour.
Enter Sir Charles, looking anxiously around.

Sir Ch.

Ah! not here either!—Sweet resemblance
of her I love, come from thy hiding-place! takes a
Picture pendent by a ribbon from his bosom, and kisses
it.
In her Absence, thou art the dearest object Vol. I. E E1v 50
that can present itself to my eyes. What a Face is
this! “’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and whiteNature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on!”


Enter George. Catches his hand with the Picture.

Geo.

Ho! ho! so the Picture’s come from the
Painter’s, is it Sir, and the drapery quite to your
fancy?

Sir Ch.

Recovering from Confusion. The artifice
I used, he who loves can pardon!

Geo.

And how many times a day dost thou break
the Decalogue, in worshipping that image?

Sir Ch.

Every hour that I live. I gaze on it, until
I think it looks and speaks to me; all night it lies
on my heart, and is the first object I address in the
morning.

Geo.

Why, man, instead of silken ties, your
passion will end in hemp—come, confess, have you
not been examining on which of these trees you
would be most gracefully pendent?

Sir Ch.

This gaieté de cœur, George, is inconsistent
with a tender passion; to be plain, I believe you
know very little about it.

Geo.

You are egregiously mistaken. We are both
Lovers, but the difference between us lies thus:
Cupid to me—is a little familiar rogue, with an arch
leer, and cheeks dimpled with continual Smiles;—
to you—a terrible Deity, deck’d out in his whole
Regalia of Quivers, Darts, Flames, and so forth!
I play with him—you—

Sir Ch.

Spare yourself the trouble of longer Explanation;
—All you would say amounts to this, you
love with Hope—I with Despair!

Geo.

Very concise, and most pathetically expressed!
Melancholy suits your features, Charles
’twere pity your Mistress should encourage you; it E2r 51
would deprive you of that something in your air
which is so touching—ha! ha! ha!—poor Seymour!
Come, let us go in search of the Girls, they are
gone to the Wood; who knows but you may find a
Nymph there, who’ll have the kindness to put hanging
and drowning out of your head!

Sir Ch.

Oh, would sweet Celia meet me there, With soften’d Look, and gentler air, Transported, to the Wood I’d fly, The happiest Swain beneath the sky, Sighs and Complaints I’d give the wind, And Io’s sing, were Celia kind.


As he pronounces the Verses, George laughs, and
scans them on his fingers.

Geo.

Why Cupid’s deaf as well as blind!


Exeunt.
Harriet comes from behind the Bower.

Har.

Her Picture in his bosom! and kiss it with
such rapture too! Well, I am glad I am convinced.
—I am perfectly at Ease! He loves then without
Hope, and George was mistaken in supposing him
so near Marriage. But he loves, notwithstanding.
Her Picture lies all night on his heart, and her Idea
is never absent from his mind.—Well, be it so; I
am perfectly at Ease! and shall no longer find a
difficulty in displaying an Indifference that is become
real—Oh, Seymour!

Exit.
Scene IV. E2 E2v 52

Scene IV.

The Wood.
Enter Lady Dinah. Looking behind her.

Lady Dinah[Speaker label not present in original source]

Insolent wretch! Nothing less than the conviction
of my own Senses would have induced me to believe
so shocking an Indecorum. I saw you look at him
with eyes that were downright gloting; I saw him
snatch your hand, and press it to his lips with an ardour
that could not be exceeded. And, when the
Creature pretended to blush, and made a reluctant
effort to withdraw it,—my Youth, so full of Veneration
and Respect for me, refused to resign it, till she
had given him a gracious Smile of Reconciliation!
Surely they do not perceive me. See there! Nay,
if you will come—

Goes behind a Shrub.
Enter Emily, followed by George.

Em.

I entreat you, Sir, not to persist in following;
You’ll force me to appeal to Mr. Drummond for protection.

Geo.

You need none Miss Morley, that you will
not find in my Respect! It is ungracious to deprive
me of conversing with you.

Em.

If you presume to believe your attentions
would not displease me in my proper character, I
ought to be offended that you address them to a person
of whose Name and Family you are ignorant.

Geo.

Can a Name deprive you of that face, that
air—or rob you of your mind?—those are the Objects
which I address with the most passionate vows
of—

Em.

I positively will not listen to you. When you E3r 53
know who I am, I may, perhaps, converse with
you on my own terms (Lady Dinah listening—Aye
or on any terms)—That is—the instant you attempt
to be dangerous, I shall be reserved.

Geo.

How, dangerous?

Em.

Oh, if, unexpectedly, you should appear to
grow of Consequence enough to endanger my heart,
I shall escape from you.—I shall remain only, whilst
you are harmless.

Geo.

This is not to be borne—I will not be harmless
—I declare open War against your heart, not in
play—but downright earnest.

Em.

Nay, then, I collect at once all my Force to
oppose you;—my heart will stand a long Seige depend
on it.

Geo.

A ten years siege would not deter me; if I
could hope it would yield at last.

Em.

Oh, I permit no hopes. If you should vanquish
in spite of me—I can only bewail its captivity.

Geo.

Your admission that I may take the field, is
all that I can at present hope; and therefore—in all
due and regular form—on my knees attractive creature

Lady D.

Listening—Aye, such Veneration and
Respect as this indeed!

Em.

Hold, Sir—I will be so merciful, as to give
you this notice—that, whenever you kneel, I shall
fly.

Runs out.

Geo.

And I—that I shall pursue, till my Atalanta
confesses I have won the prize—
As George is following Emily, Lady D. comes
out against him with a reproachful air, and
passes him.

So! (Aside.—There’s a Look! what a blessed Mother-in-law
I shall have!)

Exit.

Lady D.

What! not stay even to explain—to apologize!
—follow her before my face—Revenge! Yes,
yes, she’ll yield without the trouble of a ten years
siege—she’ll capitulate in less than ten hours. Oh, E3v 54
ye shall both suffer for this—I’ll go this instant and
effect something.

Exit.
Enter Susan.

Susan[Speaker label not present in original source]

Ha! ha! ha! is it so, my Lady? I must see if I
cant make myself useful here. A Lady like mine is
the only one that a Girl of Spirit should serve. I’ll
follow, and aid your Ladyship with my counsel before
you have time to cool—going, returns—oh,
’tis needless, here she ebbs back—after her flood of
passion.


Enter Lady Dinah not seeing Susan.

Lady D.

A moment’s Reflection has convinced
me that I should be wrong. He must not suspect
that I influence his father against the Minion, nor
will I allow her the satisfaction of thinking she gives
me the pangs of Jealousy. But, I will not lose him!
something must be done.

Sus.

Oh, my Lady, I was witness to the whole!
A base man! I could have trampled him under my
feet.

Lady D.

Base, indeed. But ’tis on her my resentment
chiefly falls—oh, Susan, Revenge!

Sus.

I am sure my heart aches for you, my Lady,
there’s nothing I would not do.—Oh, she’s an artful
slut!

Lady D.

If thou canst discover any thing that
will rid me of her—command my Fortune!

Sus.

Oh, my dear Lady—your fortune—as to that
my Lady, that’s out of the question. But I know
your Ladyship’s generosity; I think I could send
her packing—perhaps before night.

Lady D.

Can you!—The instant she goes I’ll
give you two hundred pounds.

Sus.

Curtseying She shall go, my Lady, if I have
management, or Jarvis a tongue.

E4r 55

Lady D.

Jarvis! are you mad? I would not have
him suspect that I am concerned in the affair for the
universe.

Sus.

Oh, dear my Lady, I vow I would not mention
your name—no, not for three hundred pounds from
any body else—no, no, Miss shall be got rid of
without giving Jarvis, or any one, the least reason
to suspect that your Ladyship is privy to the matter.
Miss told a fine tale to get into the house, I fancy I
know as fine a tale that will get her out of it.

Lady D.

I am convinced she is an Impostor, and
I wonder Mr. Hargrave does not see it; but, there
will be more time spent, and labour lost, in rousing
his stupid apprehension—than in explaining to an
Enthusiast the conceptions of a Bolingbroke!

Sus.

I am more afraid of Mr. Drummond, than
of him.

Lady D.

Aye, he will support that Girl’s Interest
—in order to mortify me.

Sus.

That does’nt signify, my Lady. I have a
card, as good as any he holds, to play against him.
Your Ladyship must have seen that the old Justice
has full as much weight with the ’Squire as Mr.
Drummond
.

Lady D.

I have observed that Mr. Drummond is
continually wavering between them. They influence
his actions like two principal Senses; Mr.
Drummond
is the friend of his Understanding, the
other of his Humour.—But, what card have you to
play?

Sus.

I mean to play one of these senses of his
against the other, that’s all. As for this Justice, I
am mistaken if I cant govern him as much as all his
Senses put together.

Lady D.

My hopes catch life Susan! I suppose
you have the way to the old fool’s heart; at all events
the Girl must be got rid of.

Sus.

To be sure what I am doing, behind her E4v 56
back, against the young Lady, according to the notions
I once had, is not quite right—but—

Lady D.

Some vulgar notions, I suppose, and
common-place; but you may trust to me! My track
of Reading has taught me, that to act upon extended
Principles is the most enlightened course—that the
fulfilment of a Duty sanctifies the Means, and that
to procure our own welfare is our first Duty.—There’s
the Dinner bell!—I must walk a little, to recover
my Composure, before I take my seat as the young
Lady’s foil!

Exit.

Sus.

I’m sure she cant have a better.—Ha! ha!
ha! two hundred pounds! Oh the advantages of
Jealousy and Revenge! I might have served one of
your good sort of orderly old women till I had been
grey. These two hundreds will quicken Mr. Jarvis
a little—we shall see him more attentive I fancy than
he has been, and then farewell to Servitude—ah!
Jarvis.


Enter Jarvis, bowing affectedly.

Jar.


“So look’d the Goddess of the Paphian Isle,
When Mars she saw, and conquer’d with a smile.”

My dear Goddess, I kiss your fingers—I have been
hunting for you in every walk of the Wood.

Sus.

Tenderly Why, how came that, Jarvis?

Jar.

Why, I have the same kind of necessity for
you, that a Beau has for a Looking Glass—you enable
me to perceive the effect that my appearance
produces, which keeps me in good humour.

Susan.

Oh, if you want to be put in temper, I
have got an excellent Cordial.—Now, to prove yourself
the clever fellow you think you are!

Jar.

That you think me, my Dear, you mean.
But, what extraordinary occasion has occurred for the
exhibition of my talents?

Sus.

Listen!—We have discovered that the young E5r 57
’Squire thinks Eighteen a prettier age than Fifty—
that he prefers Nature’s roses to the Perfumer’s—and
that Gravity and Learning are no match for the fire
of two hazel eyes, assisted by—the Reasoning of
Smiles and Dimples!

Jar.

And he’s in the right on’t. Did’nt I tell you
this morning they reckoned without their host?

Sus.

Here he has been on his Knees at the feet of
the Damsel, and her Ladyship behind that bush—
deeply impressed with his Transports—Ha! ha! ha!

Jar.

Ha! ha! ha! George Hargrave marry our
Old Lady!—No, no; I have a very good opinion of
that young fellow;—he’s exactly what I should be
if I was Heir to his father’s Acres—just such a spirited,
careless, deportment—a certain prevailing Assurance.
Upon my Sagacity, Susan, you and I ought
to have moved in a higher Sphere!

Sus.

Come come, to Business. You must consider
this affair in a more serious point of view: ’twould
be a Shame that, because this Girl has a pretty face,
and was found weeping by an old Gentleman who
took compassion upon her—it would be a Shame,
you know, that for these reasons she should marry
into a great family—and cheat the Sister of a Peer
of a Husband! Read the Story this way, act with
Spirit, and our Lady will give us Two Hundred
Pounds—on the day of our Marriage!

Jar.

Humph!—on the day of our Marriage! Cannot
you child prevail upon your Lady to give me the
Two Hundred, without tacking that Condition to
it?

Sus.

Pho! Sauce-box!—Well, but the Two Hundred
—what will you do for them?

Jar.

Do for them—oh, any thing—the most extravagant
thing in the world;—run off with the Girl
—blow up the house—turn Turk—or marry you!

Sus.

Well, you have only to contrive to open some
Door—for this stray Girl to walk out of the house.

Jar.

But how?—by what means?

E5v 58

Sus.

Have you forgotten the occupation which
once gave employment to these talents of your’s,
fitting you, as you think, for any Company—I mean,
have you forgotten when you belonged to a Company
of Country Players?

Jar.

Oh, I well remember the Barns that I have
made echo with the Ravings of Orestes, and the
Stables in which I have sighed forth the woes of
Romeo!

Sus.

Well, Mr. Romeo, have you no recollection
of a pretty Juliet? an elegant Girl—in short do you
not remember one of the strolling party exceedingly
like the strange guest now in the house!

Jar.

Humph!—Why, what evil spirit sent thee to
tempt me this morning?—So, I am to sell my Honour!
—my Honesty—

Sus.

Pho pho!—Honesty and Honour are sentiments
for people whose Circumstances exempt them
from Temptation. Let our Industry—we may as
well call it by that name you know—but make us independent,
and we’ll be as honourable and honest as
the best of ’em—so let’s go in and settle our Plan!

Jar.

It has ever been the Fate of Great men to
be misled by Women—and, therefore, my sweet
Abigail—I am your’s!

Leads her off.
E6r 59

Act the Fourth.

Scene I.

An Apartment.
Harriet and Bella seated.

Bel.

Nay but hear him—only hear him Harriet.

Har.

Can this be you, Bella, who this morning
seemed fearful that I should not treat him with sufficient
Scorn, who would now persuade me to allow
a private interview to a man, who is professedly the
Lover of another?

Bel.

How apprehensive you are! Why must you
suppose he wants to talk to you about Love, or on
any topic that his approaching marriage would make
improper?

Har.

Why, what can he have to say to me?

Bel.

Perhaps to consult your Taste about his
Carriages—or some Presents to his Bride—or

Har.

Bella—this is downright Ridicule!

Bel.

Well then you wont admit him.—Seeming to
go
Though he is going to leave us directly I shall
tell him you dont chuse to see him. But I approve
your Caution, Harriet, you are perfectly right.

Har.

Going to leave us directly, Bella!

Bel.

Immediately, my dear; I heard him order
his chaise, and mutter something about insupportable!
But I think you’ll be exceedingly imprudent E6v 60
in receiving his visit, and I advise you by all means
to refuse it.

Har.

Dear Bella!

Bel.

Well, then you will see him—I shall acquaint
him. But remember, Scorn Harriet—Scorn!

Exit.

Har.

Now, what am I to expect? My heart beats
strangely. But, remember, foolish girl, the Picture
of his mistress is in his bosom!


Enter Sir Charles.

Sir Ch.

The request, Miss Hargrave, I ventured to
make, by Miss Sydney, must appear strange to you.
The Engagements which I—

Har.

Render it an extraordinary request, indeed,
Sir!

Sir Ch.

I fear’d you would think so; and, conscious
of those engagements, I should not have presumed
to have made it—but that, as it is probably
the last time I may ever see you, I seize it—I know
not with what view—to tell you—that I adore you!

Har.

Sir Charles! I am astonish’d;—in my
Father’s house at least, I should have been secure
from such an insult.

Sir Ch.

Oh, forgive! Nothing could have driven
me to this declaration but Distraction.

Har.

The Picture you wear, Sir Charles, might
console you, surely.

Sir Ch.

Ah! I thought you were ignorant Madam
of my possessing it.

Har.

I am not, Sir; and I wonder how you could
presume—but I deserve this insult for listening to
you a moment.

Going.

Sir Ch.

Oh, stay, Miss Hargrave, I intreat you.—
I will give up the Picture, since it so offends you—
yet, how can I part with it?

Har.

Oh, keep it, Sir—keep it by all means. I
have no right to claim such a Sacrifice.

Going. E7r 61

Sir Ch.

You have a right, Miss Hargrave; here it
is—kissing and offering it—but, do not rob me of it!

Har.

Rob you of it! In short, Sir Charles, you redouble
your rudeness every moment—

Sir Ch.

I did not think you would have so resented
it; but, I resign it to you—nay you must take it.

Har.

I take it, Sir!—Glances it, then takes it with
an air of Doubt
—My Picture—incredible!


Enter George and Bella, both laughing.

Sir Ch.

Your Picture alone, Miss Hargrave, I
could so value.

Geo.

Look at the Simpletons—ha! ha! ha!

Bel.

What a fine Attitude!—do it again, Sir
Charles
—ha! ha! ha! Well Harriet, how do you
like Sir Charles’s mistress? Is she as handsome as
George represented her yesterday?

Geo.

Hold, hold! ’tis time now to have Mercy.
My dear Harriet, allow me to present you my most
valued Friend, as the man whom I should rejoice to
see my Brother. To you, my Seymour, I present a
Sister—whose Heart has no engagement, that I am
acquainted with, to supercede your claim.

Sir Ch.

I am half frantic, with Joy and with Amazement.

Geo.

Forgive the embarrassment I have occasioned
you; you have suffered, but your felicity will be
heighten’d by Comparison. My dear Harriet, that
Seymour has always loved you, the picture that so
offended you is a proof that you cannot doubt.

Sir Ch.

And that you were so offended, is now my
Bliss!

Har.

You, George and Bella, have taken a Liberty
with me, which you must never expect me to pardon.

Geo.

Nay, but you shall pardon; and in token
thereof—give him back your picture this minute!

Sir Ch.

Return it, I intreat you.

Bel.

Come, give the poor thing its bauble.

E7v 62

Har.

Well Sir, as you had no Share in this brilliant
contrivance—you may take the picture. Gives it
him.
You, George, are never so happy, as in exercising
your Wit at my expence!

Geo.

And you, Harriet, never so heartily forgave
me in all your life—and therefore—

Sir Ch.

Hold, George; I cannot permit that Miss
Hargrave
should suffer in this manner. This hour I
shall ever remember with—

Bel.

Come Harriet, I must take you away, that
Sir Charles may bring down his Raptures to the level
of common mortals; at present I see they have
mounted him into the clouds.

Har.

’Tis merciful to relieve me!


Exit, with Bella.

Sir Ch.

Charming Miss Sydney!—I’ll never quarrel
with your vivacity again. But, pray Sir, why have
I been made to suffer thus?

Geo.

Because you did not make me the confident
of the Passion which prompted you to obtain my
Sister’s picture. But, my vengeance has been
friendly; for my Plot has told you more of my Sister’s
Heart in a few hours, than all your Sighs and Humility
would have obtained in as many months.

Sir Ch.

I thank you; and my present happiness
receives a brighter glow, from this illusion of misery.
I’ll fly and pour forth my joy and gratitude at the
feet of my charming Harriet.

Going.
Enter Bella.

Bel.

Oh, stay, stay—we may want your assistance.
Here’s your Father coming George. Your repartee
to Lady Dinah, at dinner, spoiled her Digestion, and
she has been representing you—that’s all!

Geo.

I hope she represented her Sneer too; which
suffused with tears the loveliest eyes in the world.
Could I do less than support her against the Illhumour
of that antiquated Pedant?—By Jupiter, I’ll E8r 63
draw her in Colours to my Father that shall make
him shrink from the Fate he is preparing for himself.


Enter Mr. Hargrave.

Mr. H.

Why, George, how’s this? Do you know
what you have done?—you have affronted Lady
Dinah
.

Geo.

To affront her was not my Intention, Sir; I
only meant to convince her that she should not insult
the amiable young Lady whom Mr. Drummond
placed here for Shelter.

Mr. H.

Dont tell me—Amiable young Lady!
how do you know what she is? On the footing on
which you are with Lady Dinah, let me tell you, if
she had insulted a hundred young Ladies you ought
not to have seen it—at least not resented it.

Geo.

Pardon me, Sir! I did not conceive that
Lady Dinah would have assumed so much Privilege
in your house—at least not until she became your
Wife.

Mr. H.

What!—what’s that you say, Sir!

Geo.

This unexpected Remonstrance prompts me
to express my Astonishment, Sir, at your Attachment
to that Lady. She is the last woman in the
World, Sir, whom we could wish to see in the Station
of our amiable Mother.

Mr. H.

—Your Mother!

Geo.

If you saw her in the light I do, Sir, you
would think on your Wedding-Day with dread!

Mr. H.

—Why—why—are you mad!

Geo.

Sir, if you wished to keep your Engagement
to her a Secret, then I am sorry I mentioned the
Affair—but—

Mr. H.

Look ye Sir,—I now perceive that you
have all that backwardness in obeying me that I at
first expected, and, in order to conceal it, are attempting
to make the connection appear ridiculous. But, E8v 64
I give you Notice that wont do! I know what I’m
about, and my Commands shall not be disputed.

Geo.

Commands! Sir. What can this mean?—
I am quite at a loss—

Mr. H.

Going Well then, to prevent all further
Mistakes, and to stop all further Parley—I acquaint
you, Sir, that I design Lady Dinah, not for your
Mother—but for your Wife:—and moreover, that
the Marriage shall take place immediately!

Exit.
A long Pause, staring at each other.

Bel.

So! so! so!—and is this the end of all the
closetings?

Sir Ch.

What Confusion!—it must be all a Dream!

Geo.

Wife!—Lady Dinah my Wife.

Bel.

Ha! ha! ha!—Dear George, forgive me!
but I must laugh, or I shall expire—ha! ha! ha!
oh—my Cousin Dinah!

Geo.

Pray, Bella, spare your Mirth, and tell me
what I am to do—for I am incapable of thinking.

Bel.

Do! why run to Lady Dinah! fling yourself
at her feet, tell her you had no idea that the Bliss
was designed for you!—and—ha! ha! ha!—that
you’ll make her the tenderest, fondest, Husband in
the world!

Geo.

Oh, Bella—for once forget your Sprightliness
—I cannot bear it. Seymour! what am I to do?

Sir Ch.

My dear George, I pity you from my
Soul—but, I know not what advice to give you.

Bel.

Well then, seriously; I think—but—ha! ha!
ha! ’tis impossible to be serious! I am astonish’d
you are not more struck with your Father’s tender
Care of your future Fortune, and Felicity!

Geo.

Have you no Mercy, Bella?

Bel.

You have none upon yourself, or, instead of
standing here, with that sorrowful countentance, you
would be with Mr. Drummond.

Geo.

Ah!—He is indeed my only Resource, I’ll
fly to him this instant; if that fails me—I am the most
miserable man on Earth!

Exit. F1r 65

Sir Ch.

What can induce Mr. Hargrave to sacrifice
such a fellow as George—to a Lady Dinah!

Bel.

Her Rank and Fortune.—His god is Pluto,
he forgets that the ancients deified also Love. I
dread the lengths to which his Obstinacy may carry
him. Let us find Harriet, and tell her the strange
Story;—but—she is not the only person, I fear, to
whom it will be painful.

Sir Ch.

Is it possible that Lady Dinah—in all the
Profundity of the Sagacity which she gives herself
credit for—can imagine such an union prudent?

Bel.

Come—be merciful!—No wonder that Love,
which has made Philosophers forget their Systems,
and Heroes their Valour, should make a woman—forget
her Wrinkles!

Scene II.

The Garden.
Enter Jarvis and Susan.

Jar.

Whu! ’tis a service of Danger. Shrugging
his shoulders.

Sus.

Sure—you’ve no qualms!

Jar.

No no, child, no qualms;—but, though an
affair of this sort would, in another region, make my
Fortune, in this cold Northern Latitude there’s no
room for the bold hits of a man of Genius.

Sus.

Oh, dont despair—there’s tolerable encouragement
at home!

Jar.

Why yes—in the first instance; but then,
we’ve an ill-manner’d custom, of a dozen people of
dull Morals in a Jury box being inquisitive every
now and then. What the Lawyers mean by Vacation
I cant conceive; the fellows seem to be always
upon the Stir, and make a man constantly ask himself
—how will such an act tell next month at a trial? Vol. I. F F1v 66
—However, I must venture!—Let us consider our
foundation:—this Girl was placed under the care of
the old gentleman by a person of credit—

Sus.

Pho! she only brought a Recommendation.
Dont we know how easily a Character is to be had
—of silver purity, or of golden brightness? ’Tis a
wonder she did not obtain a Name too—I warrant
she had sufficient reasons to conceal her own.

Jar.

It does look like it; there’s a Mystery in the
affair. Now, our Lady, you know, has often condescended
to tell us that the Philosophers say that we
have a right of explaining mysteries as we please.

Sus.

Aye, to be sure; and this is the Explanation.
—She is an artful Girl, who would rather be a fine
Lady in real life than merely acting the Character on
a Country Stage; and thinks the shortest way is by
quitting it, and gaining the heart of some credulous
Youngster, who’ll make her his wife for the sake of
her Beauty.

Jar.

True—That with this view she told her story
to Mr. Drummond, who—innocent soul—not seeing
her drift, introduced her here, where she plays off
her artillery on the gun-powder heart of George
Hargrave
, Esquire, the Younger.

Sus.

Delightful! My Lady will be quite in my
power—I shall, in turn, be Mistress after this! And,
now I think on’t, I believe, to obtain the fruits of it,
I must continue to live with her—You and I can be
married just the same you know!

Jar.

Oh just the same, my dear, just the same;
nothing shall prevent that—( Aside. But my being
able to coax you out of the Two Hundred!)

Sus.

Hark! here comes the Justice. Slip away,
and leave me to manage him; I’ll, at least, so hoodwink
him, that he shall be blind to our manœuvres,
and lend a willing ear to our Proofs. You need not
be jealous now.

Jar.

Jealous! no, no; I have none of your good
sort of people’s vulgar feelings.

Exit. F2r 67
Enter Justice.

Jus.

Aye, aye! have I caught you, my little picksey?
come, no struggling—I will have a kiss, by
Jingo.

Sus.

Prevents him Laws, you are the strangest
Gentleman—

Jus.

You are mighty coy, methinks!

Sus.

Coy—so I should be. What have Gentlewomen,
without Fortune, else to recommend them?

Jus.

Aye, but that rosy pouting mouth tells different
tales I warrant to the fine gentlemen in London.

Sus.

Lawk! Sir, why dont you return to London?
Lady Dinah speaks mightily of your Talents, and
says, if you’ll try your Luck again, you need not be a
Justice—but a Lawyer; and that, to make up for
your not having Interest before, you shall have all
her’s—when she is Lady Dinah Hargrave.—But
pray! wont Mr. Drummond be in the way of all this,
isn’t he against the Match?

Jus.

Oh, I know nothing of him—he’s queer and
close. One can never get him in at a bout—he’s not
staunch!

Sus.

I believe he is not staunch to our match; and,
if that is prevented, we shall leave you in the Country
directly!

Jus.

Who can prevent the match, Sweety?

Sus.

Perhaps Mr. Drummond;—he can manage
Mr. Hargrave.

Jus.

Not so well as I can, I believe, you little sly
rogue you!

Chucking her chin.

Sus.

Use all your Interest, and bring the match
about; then we shan’t part—you little sly rogue you!


Chucking his chin.

Jus.

Oh, I’ll plead for the Wedding!

Sus.

Well, but that’s not all.—I dont like the young
Stranger this same ’Squire got room for here!

F2 F2v 68

Jus.

Adad, the sparklings of her Eye fire one’s
heart as if it were made of tinder.

Sus.

Upon my word! the sparklings of her eye!

Jus.

Oh—I dont mean—that is—Oh, I would rather
have one kind look of thine, sweet Mrs. Sukey,
than—

Sus.

Ah! I believe you’re a Coquette!—However,
I think there are reasons for getting this sparkling
Angel out of the house. I have observed looks, I
dont like, between her and young Hargrave, and, you
comprehend me, whatever interrupts the Marriage
—we leave you!

Jus.

Let me see—and consider—and weigh—

Sus.

Not Scruples of Conscience—too nicely—
Mr. Justice!

Jus.

Not if your Smiles should draw off my Attention
—sweet Mrs. Sukey.

Sus.

You wont oppose, if we should show full
grounds for sending her packing?

Jus.

Why, on the Honour of a Magistrate, I must
oppose—if the grounds are clearly illegal;—to be
sure the Law is not very apt to be clear—Come now,
give me one kiss, you little, dear, cruel, soft, sweet,
charming baggage.

Sus.

Oh, fie! you wont ask your wages before your
contract is performed—

Runs off.

Jus.

following Stop—dont run so fast!—dont
run so fast, Hussey—

Exit.

Scene III.

An Apartment at Hargrave’s.
Enter Mr. Drummond and George.

Mr. D.

I wish I had known all this, before proceedings
had gone so far. On a Subject of this nature,
no woman can be affronted with Impunity.

Geo.

I am careless of her Resentment. I will never F3r 69
be her Husband; nor husband to any woman—but
her to whom I have given my vows.

Mr. D.

Ah! are your proceedings so forward?

Geo.

Yes, Sir; I have made the offer of my heart
and hand; and, though her Delicacy forbids her to
give, whilst our families remain unknown to each
other, the assent my Heart aspires to—yet, she allows
me to catch hopes, that I would not forfeit to become
Master of the Universe.

Mr. D.

There’s a little of the Ardor of Youth in
this—the Rashness of Youth, George. However, I
will not blame you; many, who are now old and prudent,
once would have entered the lists with equal
ardor in competition for such an object.

Geo.

The more the better! I would bear off my
lovely prize from amidst an embattled Phalanx.

Mr. D.

I dont restrain you George! I like to see
a man romantic in Love and Friendship: he who is
not an Enthusiast in those noble passions, has not a
Mind of sufficient Strength—to rise hereafter into
flights of Honour, Fortitude, and Patriotism.—But,
begone! here comes your Father.

Geo.

May the Subject inspire you with resistless
reasoning.

Exit.
Enter Mr. Hargrave.

Mr. D.

So! Mr. Hargrave.

Mr. H.

So, Mr. Drummond; what, I guess your
business!

Mr. D.

I suppose you do; and I hope you are
prepared to hear me with Temper.

Mr. H.

You’ll talk to no purpose; for, like most
who listen to Reason, I have already an unchangeable
opinion.

Mr. D.

Strange Infatuation! why must George
be sacrificed to your Ambition? Surely it may be
gratified without marrying him to your Lady Dinah.

Mr. H.

How?

F3v 70

Mr. D.

By marrying her yourself, which, till now,
all supposed to have been your design;—and that
would have been sufficiently preposterous!

Mr. H.

What! make me, a second time, the Slave
of Hysterics, and Vapours! no, no, it is his turn
now; I have escaped, catch me again who can.—
What, her Ladyship is not youthful enough for
George—that’s the objection I suppose?

Mr. D.

True, and the consequent dissonance of
their Minds; it would not be less reasonable to expect
a compact between Fire and Water, than agreement
in such a marriage.

Mr. H.

Pshaw!—I tell you the study of my life
has been to make George—a Great Man; I brought
Lady Dinah here with no other design. And now,
when I thought the matter was brought to bear, when
Lady Dinah had consented, and my son, as I supposed,
was ready for the wedding—why! ’tis all a
flam!

Mr. D.

My good friend—the motives, on which
you would sacrifice your son’s Happiness, appear to
me so weak—

Mr. H.

Weak!—why I have so managed, as to
provide a wife for George who will make him perhaps
one of the First Men in the kingdom!

Mr. D.

That is, she would make him a Court-
Dangler—an attendant on Minister’s Levees—one
whose Ambition is to be foster’d with the Cameleon
food of Smiles and Nods, and who would receive a
familiar squeeze with more rapture—than the Plaudits
of a Nation!—You would transform An Independent
English Gentleman into such a Being, and
fancy you had made him—Great!

Mr. H.

Well, I’ll cut the Argument short;—
George shall marry Lady Dinah, or never have an
Acre of my Land, that’s all.

Mr. D.

And he never shall possess a Rood of mine
if he does!


Crossing each other; and traversing the Stage. F4r 71

Mr. H.

There, I thought ’twould come to this:
what a Shame it is for a man to be so obstinate!
(Aside. But hold! if so, I may lose more than I get
by the bargain!—he’ll stick to his word.)


Enter Justice.

Jus.

I am very much surprized, Mr. Drummond,
Sir, that I cant be let alone in the discharge of my
Magisterial Duties, but must be continually thwarted
by you!

Mr. D.

This Interruption, Mr. Justice, is ill-timed,
and rather out of rule;—I could wish you had chosen
another opportunity.

Jus.

You’ve a mighty right indeed, to complain of
my not observing rules, Sir—you, who are continually
breaking the Laws!

Mr. D.

Ha! ha! ha!—What hen-roost robbery
have you to lay to my Charge now?

Jus.

Aye, Sir, you may think to turn it off by a
Joke, if you please; but, for all that, I can prove you
to be a bad member of Society—for you counteract
the wise designs of our Legislators, and obstruct the
Operations of Justice,—yes, Sir, you do!

Mr. H.

Dont be so warm. What is this affair?

Jus.

Why, the Poacher, whom we committed last
night, Mr. Drummond has released, and given money
to his Family! How can we expect a due Observance
of our laws, when there is such shocking
encouragement for breaking them?—Shall the Lords
and Commons, in their Wisdom, assemble in Parliament
to make Laws about Hares and Partridges—
only to be laughed at?—’tis abominable!

Mr. H.

Very true! And let me tell you, Mr.
Drummond
, it is very extraordinary that you will be
continually—

Mr. D.

Peace! ye men of Justice. I have all the
regard for the Laws of my Country which it is the
Duty, and the Interest, of every member of Society F4v 72
to feel:—if the man had been a practised Poacher
he should not have been protected by me;—the poor
fellow found the Hare in his garden, which she had
considerably injured—

Mr. H.

Oh—oh! What, the rascal justifies himself!
—an unqualified man give Reasons for destroying
a Hare!—Destruction! if a gang of ruffians
should burn my house—would you expect me to hear
their Reasons?

Jus.

(Aside. Aye, there it works! a quarrel between
them may be useful Mistress Susan!)—There
can be no reasons—if he had found her in his house—
or on his table—and offered to touch her, I’d prosecute
him for poaching.

Mr. D.

We were talking on a subject, Mr. Hargrave,
of more importance, at present, than this; and
I beg you’ll hear me further.

Mr. H.

Enough has been said already, Mr. Drummond!
—or, if not, I’ll give you one Answer for all;
—I shall never think myself obliged to study the Humour
of a man who thinks in such opposition to me;
I have a humour of my own, which I am determined
to gratify in seeing George—a Great Man!—He
shall marry Lady Dinah in two days; and all the
Reasoning in the world, you will see, has less strength
than my Resolution;—if I cant have the willing obedience
of a Son, I’ll enjoy the Prerogatives of a Father.
—Come along Justice.

Exit.
The Justice following—returns.

Jus.

I did not know he was inclined to be so much
up, Mr. Drummond, but I hope—

Mr. D.

Why dont you follow, Sir! Exit Justice.
—My Son shall be—a Great Man!—To such a Vanity
as this, how many have been sacrificed! The
happiness of Love, the felicities of a suitable Union,
his Heart may be a stranger to;—but he shall convey
my name, deck’d with rank, to a Posterity I F5r 73
shall never see, though for this he may live a wretch!
—This is the selfish Motive which beings, supposed
to be rational, mislead themselves to believe is—
Paternal Care!—This is the silent language of the
Heart, which they persuade themselves is the dictate
of Reason and of Prudence—
Enter Emily.
Miss Morley!—why this pensive air?

Em.

I am distressed, Sir. The delicacy of the
motive, which induced you to place me here, I am
perfectly sensible of—yet—

Mr. D.

Yet, what my dear child?

Em.

Do not think me capricious, if I entreat you
to take me back to your own house, till my Uncle
arrives.—I cannot think of remaining here.

Mr. D.

(Aside.—’Tis then as I hoped.)—What
can have disgusted you?—Come, be frank; consider
me as a friend to whom you can safely open your
Heart.

Em.

Your goodness, Sir, is excessive.—If I must
explain myself, the Lady who will soon have most
right here treats me unkindly.

Mr. D.

That you cannot wonder at. Be assured,
I will effectually defend you from her insults. But
—do you not pity poor George for the fate his father
designs for him?

Em.

Yes——I do pity him.

Mr. D.

If I dared—I would go still further—I
would hope that, as his Happiness depends on you—

Em.

Sir!

Mr. D.

Let me not alarm you. I am acquainted
with his Love for you—May I know that it is not
displeasing to you?

Em.

So circumstanced, Sir—what can I say?—
He is destined to be the husband of another.

Mr. D.

It is enough. I pledge myself to you
from this moment, and promise to effect your happiness, F5v 74
if within the compass of my abilities or Fortune.
But, that I may know my task—favour me with the
key to your Uncle’s Character.

Em.

My Uncle—Sir—possesses a heart that would
do him honour, if he would be guided by it. But,
unhappily, he has conceived an opinion that his
Temper is too flexible—that he is too easily persuaded;
and the Consequence is, he’ll never be persuaded
at all.

Mr. D.

I am sorry to hear that; a man who is
positive from such a mistake, must be in the most incurable
stage of obstinacy. Howver, we’ll attack
this man of Might; his inflexibility shall be besieged,
and if it wont capitulate, we’ll undermine it.

Em.

Ah, Sir! my Uncle is in a state of mind ill
prepared for yielding.—He returned from Spain,
with eager pleasure, to his native country; but, the
Disgust he has conceived at the alteration of Manners,
which he supposes to have taken place, during his
absence, has given him an Impatience that you will
hardly be able to combat.

Mr. D.

Take Courage! Let me, for the present,
lead you back to your companions. I am obliged to
be absent, it is but for a short time; I’ll watch over
you, and, if possible, lead you to Happiness.


Exit, leading Emily.
Enter Mr. Hargrave and Lady Dinah.

Mr. H.

Aye, aye—Mr. Drummond’s fine feelings
have produced an adventure in my family indeed!
And yet, I am a little puzzled—a Stroller—

Lady D.

It is, doubtless, an extraordinary Story,
Mr. Hargrave—and I beg you will yourself question
my servant concerning it.

Mr. H.

Why, what can the Design be?

Lady D.

To you I should imagine the Design
must be very obvious, though Mr. Drummond’s
penetration was so easily eluded. By assuming the
airs and manners of a person of station, she doubtless F6r 75
expects to carry some young heir on a Northern
Jaunt, Mr. Hargrave!

Mr. H.

Oh!—now, I understand your Ladyship!
If your man can prove what he asserts, be assured
she shall not stay in my house another moment.—
We have no Young Heir to spare, here.

Lady D.

But consider, dear Mr. Hargrave—before
you take any steps in this affair—that ’tis possible
we may have been deceived. For, though my
servant avows he is sure of her—yet, he may be mistaken

Mr. H.

Oh, Lady Dinah—I shall see into that
immediately.


Enter Justice.

Jus.

(Aside. Why the Gipsey seems to have found
out a Charge against her, with a vengeance).—Where
does my Clerk stay with Burn!—But, I know I am
right;—yes, yes—’tis a clear case. By the Statute
Anno primo Caroli Secundi, obtaining goods on false
pretences is felony—with Benefit—h-r-r-m—with
Benefit—Goes to the Side. Tell my Clerk to bring
up Burn, and the Young Man to the Witness—d’ye
hear?—Now, obtaining Entrance into Houses, upon
false pretences, must be worse.—I have no doubt
that it amounts to a Burglary, and that I shall be
authorized to commit—
Enter Jarvis, and the Justice’s Clerk.
Here Witness, do you stand there. The Clerk gives
him Burn’s Justice
—In the first place—settling his
Wig
—in the first place, how old are you?

Mr. H.

Fiddle de dee—What signfies how old
he is?

Jus.

Why, yes it does—for—if he is not of Age
competent—

Mr. H.

Pshaw, Pshaw—I’ll examine him myself F6v 76
The Justice pores over Burn. How long is it
since you left the Strollers you was engaged with?

Jar.

It is about two years since I had the Honour
of being taken into my Lady’s service—I had left
the Company a month.

Mr. H.

And did you leave the young Lady in the
Company, when you quitted it?

Jar.

Yes, Sir; and I have never seen her since,
till now.

Mr. H.

I am strangely puzzled—I dont know what
to think—

Jus.

It is indeed a difficult Case—a very difficult
case—Burn says, in his chapter on Vagrants

Mr. H.

Prithee be silent—this time you are not
likely to clear up matters.

Jus.

A Justice be silent!—A silent Justice!—a
pretty thing indeed—close the mouth of the Law!

Mr. H.

What does your Ladyship advise?

Lady D.

I advise! I dont advise, Mr. Hargrave!

Jus.

Why then let the Parties be confronted.

Mr. H.

Aye,—let the parties be confronted.—


Rings

Jar.

Aye, aye, let us see one another! when I
have once accused her a little—she’ll be too much
dash’d to be able to deny the Charge!


Enter Servant.

Mr. H.

Go and tell my Daughter, that I desire
she’ll bring her Visitant here—the young Lady.


Exit Servant.

Jar.

(Aside. Two glasses of Brandy—and tremble
yet! I wish I’d swallowed the third Bumper!)


Enter Harriet and Emily.

Har.

Robert informs us, Sir, that you request our
attendance.

Mr. H.

Yes, Harriet—I did send Robert—’Tis F7r 77
about an odd affair—I had rather—but I dont know.
Pray, Madam, be so kind as to tell us if you know
any thing of that person?—Pointing to Jarvis.

Em.

No, Sir, I believe not—I do not recollect—
—I may have seen him before.

Jar.

Humph!—What, Miss Jenny! you dont recollect
—what have you forgot your old companion
William Jarvis?

Em.

I do not remember indeed that I was ever
honoured with such a companion; and the mistake
you have made in my Name convinces me I never
was.

Jar.

Poh, poh! This wont do now! You was
always a good Actress; but, you know when we are
not on the Stage—we come down from our Stilts,
and talk in our own proper persons.—Why sure, you
will not pretend to forget our Adventures at Colchester
—or the affair of the blue Domino at Warwick?


Emily expresses the utmost Surprise.

Har.

Dear Sir, nothing is more evident than that
the man has mistaken this Lady for another person.
I hope you’ll permit us to go, without enduring more
impertinence.

Mr. H.

If he is mistaken――I dont know what
to say—’tis a perplexing business. But, I wish you
would be so kind as to answer the man, Madam.

Em.

Astonishment has kept me silent until now
Sir—and I must be silent in future;—I have not been
taught to make Defences!


Enter George, behind Jarvis.

Jar.

Dear Ma’am, why surely you have not forgot
how often you have been my Roxana, and I your
Alexander?

Geo.

Hark ye, Sir!—Dare utter another Word to
that Lady, and I’ll be your Destruction;—leave the
room, Rascal, this instant.

Mr. H.

You are too hot, George. He shall stay; F7v 78
and since things are gone so far, I’ll sift the story
thoroughly. If the young Gentlewoman is not what
he represents her, she has nothing to fear.—Speak
boldly; where did you last see that Lady?

Jus.

Aye, speak boldly; give her a few more Circumstances
—perhaps some of them may hit;—People
on occasions of this sort want their Memories refreshed.

Geo.

Surely, Sir, you cannot allow this—

Mr. H.

I do allow, Sir—and, if you cant be silent,
leave the room.

Jus.

Aye, Sir, or else you’ll be committed for Contempt
of Court!—Now, for your Name, child, your
Name, and that of your family?

Em.

The Name of my Family—demanded on such
an occasion—I think myself bound to conceal. My
silence on that subject, hitherto, arose from a point
of Delicacy, and that motive is now greatly strengthened.
I refuse to discover a Name which my rash conduct
may subject to temporary disgrace.

Jus.

Oh—Oh!—the Proof’s clear, for, she refuses
to answer Interrogatories!

Geo.

Sir, I cannot be a silent witness of these Insults.
—Your presence, Lady Dinah, supports that
Rascal, or he should feel the immediate Effects of
my resentment.

Lady D.

Your resentment will be unnecessary,
Sir. If he is not supported by Truth—I shall take
care that he is properly punished.


Enter Servant.

Serv.

A Gentleman, in a Coach and four, is at
the Gates—his name is Morley.

Em.

Ah!—’tis my Uncle!—Now, Sir, you will be
satisfied concerning my Family—and I no longer
dread his presence!


Exeunt Emily Harriet and Servant. F8r 79

Mr. D.

to Lady D. Her Uncle, Lady Dinah!
—What means all this?

Exit.

Lady D.

Mean!—(Nothing—madness!—(Aside.

Jus.

(Aside. The Niece of a man who keeps a
Coach and four! What, Mistress Susan, all Invention!
—sly Cupid blinded me, or I should have seen
clearer.) How’s all this—I must enquire—and—


Going.

Geo.

Stay Sir, we have not done with you yet;
you have another Office yet to perform—what says
your Oracle Burn to such a Fellow as this, Justice?

Jus.

Aye, you rascal—’tis now your turn! Thou
art a Vilifier, a Cheat, an Impostor!—’tis a downright
Conspiracy.—The Niece of a man who keeps a Coach
and four!—why how dost think to escape?—thou’lt
cut a noble figure in the Pillory, Mr. Alexander the
Great!

Jar.

Sir—your honours—I humbly crave pardon
for my mistake—the likeness is so strong I could have
sworn the Lady had been my old acquaintance—but,
I implore pardon;—my Lady!

Lady D.

The dilemma into which you have deceived
me excites my warmest Resentment. Expect
no protection from me;—from this moment I discharge
you from my Service.

Geo.

Since your Ladyship gives him up, he has no
protection—who’s there?— Enter Servants.Secure
this fellow, until I have leisure to enquire into the
Origin of this affair—he is only an Agent I am convinced!

Jar.

Why, age, Sir—(Aside. But I am dumb, or
—we shall lose the reward!)—I implore your Honour!
’twas but a Mistake.

Geo.

Away with him!


Exeunt Servants with Jarvis.

Lady D.

(Aside. Ah! are you suspicious, Sir!—
I hope Susan has not disobey’d me, and put me into
Jarvis’s power—I must be sure of that!)

Exit.

Jus.

’Tis a Conspiracy, that’s certain—and will, I
believe, come under Scan Magscandalum magnatum—for ’tis a most scandalous F8v 80
Libel!—But, let me see—it can be no Libel—for
’tis a false story—if it had been true—aye, then indeed
—if it had been true!—but, I’ll retire home to my
Study, and Rubbing his forehead consult Burn without
disturbance—and find out the meaning of what
he says; you shall know it I warrant ye!


Exit, with his Clerk.

Geo.

Surely, surely she must have been privy to
this infamous plot!—My Fate is at its Crisis—Mr.
Morley’s
arrival determines it.—At this moment, my
Fortitude forsakes me, I tremble to meet the man,
on whose Caprice depends all my Interest in Existence!

Exit.
G1r 81

Act the Fifth.

Scene I.

An Apartment.
Enter Mr. Morley and Emily.

Mor.

A pretty freak indeed! a pretty freak, in
return for all the Care and Attention with which I
have watched over you!—I have broke with the
Doctor, for his share in this romantic affair.

Em.

I am much concerned, Sir, that his Compassion
on my distress should have led that worthy
man to have taken any step that you can think unpardonable.
But, when he found that he could not
move my Resolution, he thought it his Duty to provide
me with a retreat amongst persons of reputation.

Mor.

—A Retreat!—So, whilst I was condemning
my sweet, innocent, niece for Stubborness, Wilfulness,
and Ingratitude, she was only gone to a—Retreat!
to sit I warrant ye under Elms, listen to the
cawing of rooks, and carve her melancholy Story on
the young bark.

Em.

I am glad you can be so sportive with my
unhappiness, Sir; where you jest with misery, you
always design to lessen it.

Mor.

Aye—that wont do. The Easiness of my
Temper has been my misfortune; I never made a
mistake in Trade in my life myself never—but, have
been persuaded, and led to listen to Advice, until I Vol. I. G G1v 82
have been half ruined. But, I’ll be resolute now, for
your sake!

Em.

Surely, Sir—

Mor.

Aye, aye, I understand that speaking face
—there is not a line in it but calls me cruel! But
pray, Madam, what is it in Baldwin that so particularly
displeases your Fancy?

Em.

His person is ungraceful, his manner assuming,
and his mind effeminate.

Mor.

And is not this the description of four fifths
of the young men of the age?—but, he has four
thousand a year, that’s not quite so common a circumstance.
—Come, take the pencil again, lay on
coarser colours, or you wont convince me, considering
the Times, that the picture is a bad one.

Em.

(Aside. Ah! if I could urge his merit, how
different is Mr. Hargrave!)—You have heard my
objections so often, Sir, that the repetition can have
no weight. But, surely I may urge my Happiness.

Mor.

Oh, I intend to secure that—therefore, John,
order my Carriage up, we are going directly.—The
very moment we reach Grosvenor Street, though
you dont deserve it, the indissoluble tie with Baldwin
must take place. He is now waiting with the
Parson at his elbow; we’ll away as quickly as if
Cupid was our Coachman.—If you fancy that the
horses are too quick, ’tis only to extend your fancy,
and suppose that I hate Baldwin—that you are therefore
driving to Scotland with him—and I pursuing;
—why the horses will move so slowly, you’ll be ready
to swear they dont gallop above three rood an hour!

Em.

I intreat you, Sir, stay—at least till to-morrow!
—(Aside. Oh, where is Mr. Drummond?)

Mor.

Not a moment!

Em.

You have not yet seen Mr. Drummond, Sir,
to whom I am so much obliged.

Mor.

I have made enquiries, and have heard a very
extraordinary Character of him; we can make him
acknowledgments by Letter—and you may send him G2r 83
Gloves.—I know your design, you hope he will be
able to talk me out of my Resolution, and, perhaps
I may be a little afraid of it myself; and so, to avoid
that danger, we’ll go directly.

Em.

’Tis so late, Sir; and the night is dark.
(Aside. Yet, why should I wish to stay here!)

Mor.

No more trifling! Conduct me to the family,
that we may take leave. If you complain of this
as an act of Tyranny in me, be comforted child—
it is the last; to-morrow morning I shall be the
most obedient of my dear Niece Baldwin’s humble
servants.

Exeunt.

Enter George, and Sir Charles.

Geo.

In great Agitation. To be reserved in Assistance
at such a moment—talk to me of Prudence when
I must be half frantic if I am human! Though he
who can be discreet, as to his own Interest, when his
Friend’s happiness is at stake, may gain the approbation
of his own Judgment—my Heart renounces
him!—Where can Mr. Drummond be?

Sir Ch.

I am at your Command in every thing—I
ask you only to reflect.

Geo.

Well! and what’s the Result of reflection?
—that, in a few hours, she will be irrecoverably another’s
—lost to me for ever!

Sir Ch.

What, then, is your precise resolution?

Geo.

There is but one way—she is on the very
point of a precipice, from which, if I do not snatch
her in an instant, nothing can retrieve her.—Let your
carriage attend them, at some distance, with our
Servants; we will follow on horseback;—I’ll force
her from this Tyrant Uncle, carry her instantly to
Dover, and, in a few hours breathe at her feet in
sweet Security in France.

Sir Ch.

Considering that your plan is an Impromptu,
I admire its Consistency.—But, my dear George, have
you weighed all its Consequences?—your Father—

G2 G2v 84

Geo.

Will possibly disinherit me; be it so—I have
six hundred a Year independent of his Will; and six
hundred a year in France, with Emily Morley
Paradise!

Sir Ch.

Pity the days of Chivalry are over, or,
what Applause might’st thou not expect—adventurous
Knight!

Geo.

Come! we’ve not a moment to lose—let us
get our people ready, to follow the instant the carriage
sets out.

Sir Ch.

But, George—I’ll not accompany you a
step after the Lady is under your care:—for, if your
Father should suspect that I have any hand in the
enlevement, I can hope for no Success when I ask for
my Charming Harriet!

Geo.

Agreed—let me have your chaise, and leave
me to my fortune—I will not endanger your happiness;
this key will let you back at the garden door—
you may give fifty reasons for your short absence.—
Now, Cupid, Venus, Jupiter, and Juno— descend to
our assistance!

They hurry out.
Enter Lady Dinah.

Lady D.

She’s gone! and my Alarms are at an
end. After all, what passed in the garden was mere
gallantry, and the effects of her Art; he suffered her
Uncle to carry her off, with an abstinence that transports
me;—it is plain I had never the least Foundation
for my fears. How weak I have been, to allow
my Credulity to be imposed upon, and my Temper
ruffled, at a time when it was of so much importance
to me—to have been serene!


Enter Susan.

Sus.

Oh, my Lady!—she’s gone! thanks to the
delightful obstinacy of the old Uncle. It was well
Mr. Drummond wasn’t here, I was afraid—

G3r 85

Lady D.

Your intrusive Joy wears a familiar aspect!
—I know she’s gone.

Sus.

I beg pardon, my Lady—I thought I might
congratulate your Ladyship on her being carried off.
—I was terribly afraid—

Lady D.

Yes, you have had fears sufficiently extraordinary!
You ought to have known that the man—
whom I had received as a Lover—could have felt
passion, but for a moment, for such a girl as that!

Sus.

(Aside. So! so! so! how soon our spirits
are got up!) I’m sure, my Lady, ’twasn’t I who
caused the interview in the Wood to-day, which so
enraged you, and confirmed your fears; you was
ready enough then to believe all that was said against
him!

Lady D.

How! do you presume to reproach me
with the Error into which you led me! by your fears
I was governed, and not my own.—And your useless
Plot, too, was as absurd as your fears.

Sus.

Useless plot! my Lady, as to that, I am sure
it was a good one—and would have sent her packing
even though the Uncle had not come. ’Twasn’t our
fault he came. We have had the same trouble, and
—Service is no Inheritance—and I hope your Ladyship
will consider—

Lady D.

How dare you think of a reward for implicating
me in a scheme—not precisely submitted to
my Discrimination!—If you obtain my Pardon, you
ought to be highly gratified. Leave me, Insolent,
this moment!

Sus.

Muttering. Ha! do you venture to use me
in this manner;—I am glad you have betrayed yourself,
when I can yet take a severe Revenge!—However
harmless the Plot which you instigated may
have been to others—you shall find it mischievous
enough to yourself!

Lady D.

Stand not muttering there—retire from
my Presence! Exit Susan. But—I have gone too far.
—Now must I court my Servant! to forgive the resentment G3v 86
which her assumptive Impertinence occasioned.
Well; ’tis but for a short time—the Marriage
over, and I have done with her! I must retire
now, to recover my Composure.—Perhaps he’ll visit
me, but not to talk of Veneration and Respect again!
—Oh, how I’ll torment him for that, and his Adventure!
nothing gives a woman such fine means of
plaguing her Lover as an Affectation of Jealousy; if
she actually feels it, she is his Slave; but, whilst she
affects it—his Tyrant!

Exit.
Enter Bella and Harriet.

Har.

How very unfortunate that Mr. Drummond
is absent. He would have opposed the reasoning of
Lady Dinah, and prevented their departure. Never
any thing was so distressing!

Bel.

Oh, there’s no bearing it. Your Father is
quite a manageable being, compared to this odd provoking
mortal—whose imagined Flexibility withstands
art, reason, every thing!

Har.

Never shall I forget the Look which she gave
me, wild, yet composed, agonized, though calm, as
her Uncle led her out.—I wonder where Sir Charles
is? he passed me in the Hall, saying, hastily, he
must tear himself away for half an hour.

Bel.

I wonder rather where your Brother is?—
Enter Sir Charles.
—oh, here’s one of our truants, but where’s the
other? poor George I suppose is binding his brow
with willows.

Sir Ch.

That’s not George’s stile in love; he
doesn’t cross his arms, and talk to his shadow, when
he may employ his hours to more advantage.

Bel.

What do you mean?

Har.

Where is my Brother!

G4r 87

Sir Ch.

On the road to France.

Both.

France!

Sir Ch.

Unless Mr. Morley has as much Activity
as obstinacy;—for George is in Advance of him,
after having made Capture of his Niece.

Bel.

Oh! how I doat on his Knight Errantry! He
is the true Lover, who, instead of patiently submitting
to circumstances, boldly seizes on Fortune,
and governs the accidents which he cannot avoid.

Har.

How can you praise such conduct, Bella? I,
tremble for the Consequences!

Sir Ch.

What consequences, Harriet, can alarm
him, who snatches the woman he loves from the fate
she dreads?


Enter Servant, hastily.

Serv.

My Master is returned—the Lady fainted in
the chaise—and he has brought her, by a cross-road,
to Mr. Drummond’s.

Sir Ch.

Ruin! Is Mr. Drummond at home?

Serv.

No Sir. And Mr. Morley is come back
too; he drove through the gates this minute.

Bel.

Then, George will lose her at last! he erred
in not pursuing his route.

Sir Ch.

He has no chance now, but through Mr.
Drummond
; and what can he hope from him, who
has to combat the passions of three people, with no
weapon but Reason!

Bel.

There they are!—and Mr. Hargrave as loud
as his Huntsman.

Har.

Let us hurry to the parlour, and then we
can send Intelligence of what passes to George!

Exeunt.
Scene II. G4v 88

Scene II.

Another Apartment.
Enter Mr. Morley and Mr. Hargrave.

Mor.

Yes, yes, ’tis Fact, matter of Fact—upon my
Credit! You Son was actually the person who took
her out of the coach!

Mr. H.

Sir, it is impossible. My Son! why, he is
under engagements that would make it madness.

Mor.

Then Sir, you may depend upon it the Fit
is on him now; for he clapt Emily into a chaise—
whilst an impudent Puppy fasten’d on me. By Hercules!
twenty years ago, I’d have given him sauce
to his Cornish hug. His face I could not discern—
but the other’s I’ll swear to.

Mr. H.

George! look for George there! I’ll convince
you, Sir, instantly.
Enter Harriet.
—where’s George?

Harriet.

Sir, my Brother is at Mr. Drummond’s?

Mr. H.

There! I knew it could not be George;
though you would not be persuaded.

Mor.

What a plague—you cant persuade me out
of my Senses. Your Son, I aver, took her out of the
coach—with her own consent no doubt—and on an
honorable design without doubt—Sir, I give you Joy
of your daughter.

Mr. H.

Whether they live on their honour, or
starve by it—not a single sous shall they have from
me. But, I wont yet believe my George could be
such a fool.

Mor.

Fool! Sir—the man who loves Emily gives
no proof of Folly either. But, she shall be punished G5r 89
for her’s. ’Twas a concerted affair, I see it plainly,
all agreed upon—but she shall repent!

Mr. H.

Your Resentment, Sir, is extremely extraordinary.
—I must tell you that my Son’s ancestry,
or the Estate to which he is Heir, if he has not forfeited
it by Disobedience, are not objects for the
Contempt of any man.

Mor.

They are objects to which I shall never be
reconciled. What! have I been toiling these thirty
years in Spain, to make my Niece a Match for any
man in England, but to have her Fate determined
by an adventure in a Post-Chaise; an evening’s
Frolic for a young Spark, who had nothing to do but
to push the old fellow into a corner, and whisk off
with the Girl? Sir, if there was not another man in
the kingdom, your son should not have my consent
to marry Emily.

Mr. H.

And if there was not another woman in
England, I would suffer the name of Hargrave to be
annihilated, rather than he should be husband to
your Niece!


They walk about in great Anger.
Enter Mr. Drummond.

Mr. D.

Gone! Her Uncle been here, and the
amiable girl gone! What Infatuation, Mr. Hargrave,
could render you so blind to the happiness that
awaited your family? I’ll follow this obdurate man,
—where’s George—look for George there—

Mr. H.

There, Sir, that’s the person to whom you
must address your complaints.

Mr. D.

I have made discoveries of such a fraud
practised upon you as must have shaken even your
Prejudices—to Hargrave. But this Uncle! surely,
my dear Harriet, you might have prevailed.

Harriet.

Sir, this Gentleman is Mr. Morley;—
Mr. Drummond, Sir.

Mr. D.

Ah! I beg pardon Sir, I am rejoiced to see
you; I understood you were gone.

G5v 90

Mor.

I was gone, Sir; but I was robbed of my
Niece on the road; she was taken out of my coach;
which forced me to return.

Mr. D.

What—carried off?

Mr. H.

Aye Sir, carried off by George, whom you
have trained to such a knowledge of his Duty.

Mor.

Stopped on the King’s Highway, Sir, by
the fiery youth, and my Niece dragg’d from my
side.

Mr. D.

Ah—ah!—admirable!

Mr. H.

What’s this right too? Human Patience
wont bear this!

Mr. D.

Where are they?

Harriet.

At your house, Sir.

Mor.

What a country I am returned to! Can a
person of your Age and Character approve of—

Mr. H.

Let George do what he will—he’s sure of
his Approbation.

Mr. D.

Gentlemen, if you are sure Miss Morley
is at my house, I am Patience itself—under all attacks!

Mor.

Sir, I’m resolved to—


Enter Lady Dinah.
Exit Harriet, frightened.

Lady D.

So, Mr. Hargrave! So Sir! what your
Son—this new Insult deprives me of Utterance!—
Your Son! What is the Reason of this complicated
outrage?

Mr. H.

My dear Lady Dinah, I am as much enraged
as you can be—but, he shall fulfil his Engagements
—depend on it he shall.

Mor.

Engagements! What the young Gentleman
was engaged too!

Lady D.

To Mr. Hargrave Your honour is concerned,
Sir; if I was sure he was drawn in by the
Girl’s art, and that he was convinced of the Impropriety

G6r 91

Mor.

Drawn in by the Girl’s Art! Whatever cause
I may have to be offended with my Niece’s conduct
Madam, no person must speak of her with contempt
in my presence. I presume this Gentleman’s son
was engaged to your Daughter; but that’s not a sufficient
reason for—

Lady D.

Daughter!—No, Sir, ’twas to me that he
was engaged;—and but for the Arts of your Niece—

Mor.

To you!—A matrimonial engagement between
that Young Fellow and You! Nay then, I dont
wonder at your Rage—a disappointment in Love, at
your time of Life, must be the Devil.

Lady D.

Mr. Hargrave, do you suffer me to be
thus insulted?—

Mr. H.

Why, my Lady, we must bear something
from the Gentleman—the mistake we made about his
Niece was a very awkward affair.

Mr. D.

To Lady D. And, in consequence of
that affair, I must now entreat you—without making
it necessary for me to take upon myself a most disagreeable
task—to retire from this family. If you
compel me to explain myself—

Lady D.

What new Insolence is this?

Mr. D.

I would spare you, my Lady—but, you
are not inclined to spare yourself. Blush then,
whilst I accuse you of entering into a base league
with your Servants, to drive an amiable young Lady
from the protection of Mr. Hargrave’s family!

Mr. H.

Aside What!—in League with her servants?

Lady D.

And, how dare you accuse me of this?
am I to answer for my Servant’s conduct!

Mr. D.

Their wickedness I have lately learnt is
but a natural result from the Principles with which
you have disported yourself in poisoning their minds.
Led from behind the protection of religion, they
were left without support against Temptations to
which, Madam, you know Philosophy opposes its
shield in vain.

G6v 92

Lady D.

(Aside. I fell his Superiority to my inmost
Soul!—but, he shall not see his triumph.)—
Is it Virtue, Sir, that prompts you to induce Mr.
Hargrave
to break through every tie of honour—
through the most solemn of engagements!

Mr. D.

I have just heard these convenient terms
prostituted too by your Servants, as they reproached
you with not keeping your Engagements to them.

Lady D.

Aside Ah!—am I then betrayed?


Enter George, leading Emily.

Geo.

Miss Morley, Sir, commanded me to lead her
to you. I cannot ask you to pardon a rashness of
which I do not repent.

Mr. H.

Then I shall make you, I fancy.

Mor.

Ah! did you really insist on returning to
me?

Em.

I left Mr. Drummond’s, Sir, the moment I
knew you were here.

Mor.

I’ll not forget it. Come child, the coach is
at the door, and we must make speed to retrieve our
lost time. But, have a care, young Gentleman,
though I pardon your extravagance once, a second
attempt shall find me prepared for your reception.

Geo.

If Miss Morley consents to go with you, Sir,
you have no second attempt to fear. But,—to
Emily
in this Crisis of our Fate, I publicly intreat
you to accept the eternal Love which I swear to you!

Mor.

So, so, so!

Mr. H.

What, without my Leave!

Lady D.

Amazing!

All together.

Em.

At such a moment as this, meanly to disguise
my sentiments would be unworthy of the woman to
whom you pay such a tribute. I therefore frankly
confess that the only bar to my acceptance of your
proferred Love is—the want of their Consent who
have a right to dispose of us.

G7r 93

Mor.

That you will not have frank Madam—so
no more Ceremonies, but away.


Seizing her arm, and going off.

Mr. D.

Impenetrable man! I have discovered
Sir, that your Niece is the Daughter of Major Morley
—one of the earliest friends of my youth. He
would not have inflicted the distress she now endures:
I will be a Father to his orphan family, and
ensure the Felicity of two children on the point of
being sacrificed to the Ambition and Avarice of
those, on whose hearts nature has engraven Duties
which they wilfully misunderstand.

Lady D.

What! are you not content with the insults
you have offered to me and Mr. Hargrave, but
you must interfere with this Gentleman in the disposal
of his Niece!

Mr. H.

There’s never any stopping him—he knows
not how to value the Authority of a Parent.

Mr. D.

But, I will show that I know how to perform
its Duties! And, whilst you, mistaken men,
condemn these to misery for Life, the Happiness
they vainly claim from you—they shall receive from
me. On Miss Morley I will settle the jointur’d land
of my departed wife—and George shall now partake
that Fortune, to which I have already made him
Heir.

Mr. H.

What can these Servants have told him,
that makes him so warm? It is time that I should
hear their tale!

Exit, unperceived by Lady Dinah.

Mor.

Why, Sir, this is Friendship indeed! settle
Estates!—I am glad Brother Tom had Prudence
enough to form such a Connection—’twas seldom
he minded the Main Chance;—instead of that,
Honour and running after ragged colours with a
greasy knapsack were—

Mr. D.

Hold, Sir! I have served! and love the
Profession. The Army is not more the school of
Honour, than of every Generous Passion. A British
Soldier is fellow-citizen with the whole World; G7v 94
he feels that every man of Character is his Friend
and Brother—except in the moment in which he is
the Enemy of his Sovereign; and, when his sword
had made his foe his Captive, the Urbanity of his
Heart—gains a willing Subject to his country!

Mor.

Nay, if you have all this Romance, I dont
wonder at your proposal.—However, though your
Lands might have been necessary for Mr. Morley’s
Daughter—my Niece, if she marries with my consent,
shall be obliged to no other man for a Fortune.

Lady D.

The Insolence of making me witness all
this—is become insupportable!—Is this you, Sir,
who this very morning paid your Vows to me!

Geo.

Your Pardon for the Error of the morning;
I imagined myself paying my devoirs to a Lady who
was to become—my Mother!

Lady D.

Your Mother! Sir—your Mother!—
Mr. Hargrave?—where is Mr. Hargrave?


Enter Mr. Hargrave.

Mr. H.

I am here, my Lady—and have just heard
a tale of so atrocious a nature from your servants,
that I would not, for half my Estate, that such an
affair should have happened in my family.

Lady D.

And can you believe the Malice?

Mr. H.

Indeed I do.

Lady D.

Mr. Drummond’s Arts have then succeeded!

Mr. H.

Your arts have not my Lady, and you
have no chance for a Husband now, I believe, unless
you can prevail upon George—to make a Runaway
match with You!

Lady D.

Insolent Wretches!—Order my Equipage!
—Beneath this roof I will not stay another moment.
When Persons, of my Rank, thus condescend
to mix with Plebeians—like a Phœnix, that appears
within the ken of common birds they are stared at G8r 95
and flouted, till, to escape from the Insults of Ignorance
and Envy, they are forced to ascend again
to their proper region!

Exit.
As Lady Dinah goes off, George fixes his eye on
his Father; and points after her.

Mr. H.

catching George’s hand. My dear Boy,
I believe we were wrong here, and I am heartily
glad we have escaped. But, I suppose you’ll forgive
and forget, when I tell you I have no objection to
your endeavouring to prevail on this Gentleman.

Geo.

Nothing, dear Sir, can diminish the most unbounded
Gratitude for the permission. Now—may
I hope Sir—

Mor.

Hope, Sir!—Upon my word I dont know
what to say;—you have contrived to carry affairs to
such a length, that asking my consent, I begin to
perceive, is become but matter of Form.

Mr. H.

I, for my part, begin to find out, Sir,
that, in some cases, Children should lead. But—
pray keep me in countenance, that I may’nt think
I yielded too soon.

Mr. D.

To become a very joyous Circle, your
Consent, Sir, is all we want. Let us prevail upon
you to permit your beloved Emily to receive the Addresses
of my Godson, and, for many happy years
hence, your Memory will recur to his boldness on
the road, as the most fortunate rencontre of your
life.—You shall come and live amongst us, and we
will study to reconcile you to your native Country;
amidst the degeneracy which may exist, we will find
room enough to act virtuously, and in England to
enjoy the Rewards of virtue—more securely than in
any other part of the Earth.

Mor.

Sir, I like you; promise me your Friendship,
and you shall dispose of my Niece.

Mr. D.

I accept the condition with pleasure.

Mor.

Well—here I am—as usual—persuaded out
of my resolution—a perfect proverb for Flexibility!

Geo.

Oh, Sir, permit me—

G8v 96

Mor.

Nay, indulge not in Joy too soon. Now
you have got me on your side, Emily begins to feel
her usual reluctace to a choice of mine—eh? what
say you?

Em.

The proof I have given of my sentiments,
Sir, shows that in displaying reluctance I should
make a vain attempt to disguise my feelings.

Geo.

Enchanting Frankness! my heart, through
life, will thank you.—But, what shall I say to you
To Drummond—to you, Sir, to whom I already
owe—

Mr. D.

Nothing. The Heart, George, must have
some Attachments—mine has for many years been
center’d in you; if I have struggled for your happiness
’twas to gratify myself.

Geo.

Oh, Sir, why will you continually excite feelings
—to which you refuse Utterance?—Seymour,
behold in me the happiest of men!

Sir Ch.

May your Bliss, my dear George, be as
permanent as it is great!—Allow me Sir to Mr.
Hargrave
to seize this propitious moment to ask
your consent to a second union. I’ll prove George’s
exclusive claim a vain boast—if you permit me to
entreat Miss Hargrave for her hand.

Mr. H.

Sir Charles, there was no moment in which
I should not have heard this request with pleasure.
Why, Harriet—I perceive no Anger in your eye at
Sir Charles’s request!

Har.

Your Harriet, Sir, is spared the pain of feeling
reluctance—to that which gives you so much
pleasure!

Bel.

Upon my word you look quite insulting with
your happiness. I seem quite a deserted damsel
amongst ye! But—I chance to have received a Letter,
which informs me—that a certain person—

Geo.

Of the name of—Belville

Bel.

Be quiet!—is landed at Dover, and posting
hither—with all the saucy Confidence our Engagement
inspires him with.

H1r 97

Mr. D.

Say you so? Then we’ll have all the
Weddings celebrated in one day.

Bel.

Oh, mercy!—I wont hear of it. To love may
be endurable—but to honour! and obey! ’tis strange
we never had Interest enough to get the ungallant
Form mended.

Mr. D.

The Vow, my dear Bella, in the Marriage
Ceremony, was prudently introduced for common
apprehensions. But Love—in refined minds—excites
a train of sweet Attentions, which, without the Alloy
of feeling that a mere Contract is performed, are bestowed
with constant delight! May those who are entering
on this state—You—and You to Bella significantly
and You to the Audience possess the blissful
envied lot of—Married Lovers!

Vol. I. H H1v

Epilogue.


Written by Garrick.

Spoken by Bella.

post haste from Italy arrives my Lover!

Shall I to you, good friends, my Fears discover?

Should Foreign Modes his virtues mar and mangle,

And Caro Sposo prove—Sir Dingle Dangle,

No sooner joined than separate we go,

Abroad, we never shall each other know,

At Home, I mope above—he’ll pick his teeth below.

In sweet domestic Chat we ne’er shall mingle.

And, wedded though I am, shall still live single.

However modish, I detest this plan:

For me no maukish creature, weak and wan,

He must be English, and an english Man.

To Nature and his Country false and blind

Should Belville dare to twist his form and mind,

I will discard him: and, to Britain true,

A Briton chuse—and, may be, one of You!

Nay—dont be frighten’d—I am but in jest,

Free Men, in Love, or War, should ne’er be press’d.

If you would know my utmost expectation,

’Tis one unspoil’d by travell’d education;

With Knowledge, Taste, much Kindness, and some Whim,

Good Sense to govern me—and let me govern him:

Great love of me must keep his heart from roving,

Then I’ll forgive him, if he proves too loving.

If, in these times, I should be bless’d by Fate

With such a Phœnix, such a matchless Mate,

H2r 99

I will by kindness, and some small discerning,

Take care that Hymen’s torch continues burning—

At Weddings, now-a-days, the Torch thrown down

Just makes a smoke, then stinks throughout the town!

No married puritan, I’ll follow pleasure

And e’en the Fashion—but, in moderate measure:

I will of Op’ra Extasies partake

Though I take Snuff to keep myself awake;

No rampant Plumes shall o’er my temples play

Foretelling that my Brains will fly away,

Nor from my head shall strange Vagaries spring

To show the soil can teem with every thing—

No Fruits, Roots, Greens, shall fill the ample space

A Kitchen-Garden to adorn my face!

No Rocks shall there be seen, no Windmill, Fountain,

Nor Curls, like Guns, set round to guard the Mountain!

Oh, learn ye Fair, if this same madness spreads,

Not to hold up—but, to keep down—your heads.

—Be not misled by strange fantastic art,

But, in your Dress let Nature take some part—

Her skill alone a lasting Power insures,

And best can ornament such Charms—as your’s!

H2 H2v