_Another Apartment in SIR SIMON ROCHDALE'S House._
_Enter PEREGRINE._
_Pereg._ Sir Simon does not hurry himself; but 'tis a custom with
the great, to make the little, and the unknown, dance attendance.
When I left Cornwall, as a boy, this house, I remember, was tenanted
by strangers, and the Rochdales inhabited another on the estate,
seven miles off.--I have lived to see some changes in the family,
and may live, perhaps, to see more.
_Enter FRANK ROCHDALE._
_Frank._ You expected, I believe, Sir Simon Rochdale, sir;--but he
will be occupied with particular business, for some time. Can I
receive your commands, sir?
_Pereg._ Are you Sir Simon Rochdale's son, sir?
_Frank._ I am.
_Pereg._ It was my wish, sir, to have seen your father. I come
unintroduced, and scurvily enough accoutred; but, as I have urgent
matters to communicate, and have suffered shipwreck, upon your
coast, this morning, business will excuse my obtrusion, and the sea
must apologize for my wardrobe.
_Frank._ Shipwreck! That calamity is a sufficient introduction to
every roof, I trust, in a civilized country. What can we do
immediately to serve you?
_Pereg._ Nothing, sir--I am here to perform service, not to require
it. I come from a wretched hut on the heath, within the ken of this
affluent mansion, where I have witnessed calamity in the extreme.
_Frank._ I do not understand you.
_Pereg._ Mary!--
_Frank._ Ha.!--Now you _have_ made me understand you. I perceive,
now, on what object you have presented yourself here, to harangue.
'Tis a subject on which my own remorse would have taught me to bend
to a just man's castigation; but the reproof retorts on the
reprover, when he is known to be a hypocrite. My friend, sir, has
taught me to know you.
_Pereg._ He, whom I encountered at the house on the heath?
_Frank._ The same.
_Pereg._ And what may he have taught you?
_Frank._ To discover, that your aim is to torture me, for
relinquishing a beloved object, whom you are, at this moment,
attaching to yourself;--to know, that a diabolical disposition, for
which I cannot account, prompts you to come here, without the
probability of benefiting any party, to injure me, and throw a
whole family into confusion, on the eve of a marriage. But, in
tearing myself from the poor, wronged, Mary, I almost tear my very
heart by its fibres from the seat;----but 'tis a sacrifice to a
father's repose; and--
_Pereg._ Hold, sir! When you betrayed the poor, wronged, Mary, how
came you to forget, that every father's repose may be broken for
ever by his child's conduct?
_Frank._ By my honour! by my soul! it was my intention to have
placed her far, far above the reach of want; but you, my hollow
monitor, are frustrating that intention. You, who come here to
preach virtue, are tempting her to be a confirmed votary of vice,
whom I in penitence would rescue, as the victim of unguarded
sensibility.
_Pereg._ Are you, then, jealous of me?
_Frank._ Jealous!
_Pereg._ Aye: if so, I can give you ease. Return with me, to the
injured innocent on the heath: marry her, and I will give her away.
_Frank._ Marry her! I am bound in honour to another.
_Pereg._ Modern honour is a coercive argument; but when you have
seduced virtue, whose injuries you will not solidly repair, you must
be slightly bound in old-fashion'd honesty.
_Frank._ I------I know not what to say to you. Your manner almost
awes me; and there is a mystery in----
_Pereg._ I am mysterious, sir. I may have other business, perhaps,
with your father; and, I will tell you, the very fate of your family
may hang on my conference with him. Come, come, Mr. Rochdale, bring
me to Sir Simon.
_Frank._ My father cannot be seen yet. Will you, for a short time,
remain in my apartment?
_Pereg._ Willingly;--and depend on this, sir--I have seen enough of
the world's weakness, to forgive the casual faults of youthful
indiscretion;--but I have a detestation for systematic vice; and
though, as a general censor, my lash may be feeble, circumstances
have put a scourge in my hand, which may fall heavily on this
family, should any of its branches force me to wield it.--I attend
you. [_Exeunt._
* * * * *
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.
_A Hall in the Manor-house._
_Voices wrangling without._
_Job._ I will see Sir Simon.
_Simon._ You can't see Sir Simon, &c. &c. &c.
_Enter JOB THORNBERRY, MARY, and SIMON._
_Job._ Don't tell me;--I come upon justice business.
_Simon._ Sir Simon be a gentleman justice.
_Job._ If the justice allows all his servants to be as saucy as you,
I can't say much for the gentleman.
_Simon._ But these ben't his hours.
_Job._ Hours for justice! I thought one of the blessings of an
Englishman, was to find justice at any time.
_Mary._ Pray don't be so----
_Job._ Hold your tongue, child. What _are_ his hours?
_Simon._ Why, from twelve to two.
_Job._ Two hours out of four and twenty! I hope all that belong to
law, are a little quicker than his worship; if not, when a case
wants immediate remedy, it's just eleven to one against us. Don't
you know me?
_Simon._ Na.
_Job._ I'm sure I have seen you in Penzance.
_Simon._ My wife has got a chandler's shop there.
_Job._ Haven't you heard we've a fire engine in the church?
_Simon._ What o' that?
_Job._ Suppose your wife's shop was in flames, and all her bacon and
farthing candles frying?
_Simon._ And what then?
_Job._ Why then, while the house was burning, you'd run to the
church for the engine. Shou'dn't you think it plaguy hard if the
sexton said, "Call for it to-morrow, between twelve and two?"
_Simon._ That be neither here nor there.
_Job._ Isn't it! Then, do you see this stick? [_Menacing._
_Simon._ Pshaw! you be a foolish old fellow.
_Job._ Why, that's true. Every now and then a jack-in-office, like
you, provokes a man to forget his years. The cudgel is a stout one,
and som'at like your master's justice;--'tis a good weapon in weak
hands; and that's the way many a rogue escapes a dressing.--What!
you are laughing at it?
_Simon._ Ees.
_Job._ Ees! you Cornish baboon, in a laced livery!--Here's something
to make you grin more--here's half a crown.
[_Holding it up between his Finger and Thumb._
_Simon._ Hee! hee!
_Job._ Hee, hee!--Damn your Land'send chops! 'tis to get me to your
master:--but, before you have it, though he keeps a
gentleman-justice-shop, I shall make free to ring it on his counter.
[_Throws it on the Floor._] There! pick it up. [_SIMON picks up the
money._] I am afraid you are not the first underling that has
stoop'd to pocket a bribe, before he'd do his duty.--Now, tell the
gentleman-justice, I want to see him.
_Simon._ I'll try what I can do for you. [_Exit._
_Job._ What makes you tremble so, Mary?
_Mary._ I can't help it:--I wish I could persuade you to go back
again.
_Job._ I'll stay till the roof falls, but I'll see some of 'em.
_Mary._ Indeed, you don't know how you terrify me. But, if you go to
Sir Simon, you'll leave me here in the hall;--you won't make me go
with you, father?
_Job._ Not take you with me.--I'll go with my wrongs in my hand, and
make him blush for his son.
_Mary._ I hope you'll think better of it.
_Job._ Why?
_Mary._ Because, when you came to talk, I should sink with shame, if
he said any thing to you that might----that----
_Job._ Might what?
_Mary._ [_Sighing, and hanging down her Head._] Make you blush for
your daughter.
_Job._ I won't have you waiting, like a petitioner, in this hall,
when you come to be righted. No, no!
_Mary._ You wouldn't have refused me any thing once;--but I know I
have lost your esteem, now.
_Job._ Lost!--forgive is forgive, all the world over. You know,
Mary, I have forgiven you: and, making it up by halves, is making
myself a brass teakettle--warm one minute, cold the next; smooth
without, and hollow within.
_Mary._ Then, pray, don't deny me!--I'm sure you wouldn't, if you
knew half I am suffering.
_Job._ Do as you like, Mary; only never tell me again you have lost
my esteem. It looks like suspicion o' both sides.--Never say that,
and I can deny you nothing in reason,--or, perhaps, a little beyond
it.--
_Enter SIMON._
Well, will the justice do a man the favour to do his duty? Will he
see me?
_Simon._ Come into the room next his libery. A stranger, who's with
young master, ha' been waiting for un, longer nor you; but I'll get
you in first.
_Job._ I don't know, that that's quite fair to the other.
_Simon._ Ees, it be; for t'other didn't give I half a crown.
_Job._ Then, stay till I come back, Mary.--I see, my man, when you
take a bribe, you are scrupulous enough to do your work for it; for
which, I hope, somebody may duck you with one hand, and rub you dry
with the other. Kindness and honesty, for kindness and honesty's
sake, is the true coin; but many a one, like you, is content to be a
passable Birmingham halfpenny. [_Exeunt JOB THORNBERRY and SIMON._
_Mary._ I wished to come to this house in the morning, and now I
would give the world to be out of it. Hark! here's somebody! Oh,
mercy on me, 'tis he himself! What will become of me!
[_Retires towards the Back of the Scene._
_Enter FRANK ROCHDALE._
_Frank._ My father, then, shall see this visitor, whatever be the
event. I will prepare him for the interview, and---- [_Sees MARY._]
Good Heaven! why--why are you here?
_Mary._ [_Advancing to him eagerly._] I don't come willingly to
trouble you; I don't, indeed!
_Frank._ What motive, Mary, has brought you to this house? and who
is the stranger under whose protection you have placed yourself, at
the house on the heath? Surely you cannot love him!
_Mary._ I hope I do.
_Frank._ You hope you do!
_Mary._ Yes; for I think he saved my life this morning, when I was
struggling with the robber, who threatened to kill me.
_Frank._ And had you taken no guide with you, Mary?--no protector?
_Mary._ I was thinking too much of one, who promised to be my
protector always, to think of any other.
_Frank._ Mary----I----I----'twas I, then, it seems who brought your
life into such hazard.
_Mary._ I hope I haven't said any thing to make you unhappy.
_Frank._ Nothing, my dearest Mary, nothing. I know it is not in your
nature even to whisper a reproof. Yet, I sent a friend, with full
power from me, to give you the amplest protection.
_Mary._ I know you did:--and he gave me a letter, that I might be
protected, when I got to London.
_Frank._ Why, then, commit yourself to the care of a stranger?
_Mary._ Because the stranger read the direction of the letter--here
it is, [_Taking it from her Pocket._] and said your friend was
treacherous.
_Frank._ [_Looking at the Letter._] Villain!
_Mary._ Did he intend to lead me into a snare then?
_Frank._ Let me keep this letter.--I may have been deceived in the
person I sent to you, but--damn his rascality! [_Aside._] But, could
you think me base enough to leave you, unsheltered? I had torn you
from your home,--with anguish I confess it--but I would have
provided you another home, which want should not have assailed.
Would this stranger bring you better comfort?
_Mary._ Oh, yes; he has; he has brought me my father.
_Frank._ Your father!--from whom I made you fly!
_Mary._ Yes; he has brought a father to his child,--that she might
kiss off the tears her disobedience had forced down his aged cheeks,
and restored me to the only home, which could give me any comfort,
now.--And my father is here.
_Frank._ Here!
_Mary._ Indeed, I cou'dn't help his coming; and he made me come with
him.
_Frank._ I--I am almost glad, Mary, that it has happened.
_Mary._ Are you?
_Frank._ Yes--when a weight of concealment is on the mind, remorse
is relieved by the very discovery which it has dreaded. But you must
not be waiting here, Mary. There is one in the house, to whose care
I will entrust you.
_Mary._ I hope it isn't the person you sent to me to-day.
_Frank._ He! I would sooner cradle infancy with serpents.--Yet this
is my friend! I will, now, confide in a stranger:--the stranger,
Mary, who saved your life.
_Mary._ Is he here!
_Frank._ He is:--Oh, Mary, how painful, if, performing the duty of a
son, I must abandon, at last, the expiation of a penitent! but so
dependent on each other are the delicate combinations of probity,
that one broken link perplexes the whole chain, and an abstracted
virtue becomes a relative iniquity. [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_The Library._
_SIR SIMON ROCHDALE and his STEWARD, who appears to be
quitting the Room. JOB THORNBERRY standing at a little
Distance from them._
_Sir Simon._ Remember the money must be ready to-morrow, Mr.
Pennyman.
_Steward._ It shall, Sir Simon. [_Going._
_Sir Simon._ [_To JOB._] So, friend, your business, you say,
is--and, Mr. Pennyman, [_STEWARD turns back._] give Robin Ruddy
notice to quit his cottage, directly.
_Steward._ I am afraid, Sir Simon, if he's turned out, it will be
his ruin.
_Sir Simon._ He should have recollected that, before he ruin'd his
neighbour's daughter.
_Job._ [_Starting._] Eh!
_Sir Simon._ What's the matter with the man? His offence is attended
with great aggravation.--Why doesn't he marry her?
_Job._ Aye! [_Emphatically._
_Sir Simon._ Pray, friend, be quiet.
_Steward._ He says it would make her more unfortunate still; he's
too necessitous to provide even for the living consequence of his
indiscretion.
_Sir Simon._ That doubles his crime to the girl.--He must quit. I'm
a magistrate, you know, Mr. Pennyman, and 'tis my duty to discourage
all such immorality.
_Steward._ Your orders must be obeyed, Sir Simon. [_Exit STEWARD._
_Sir Simon._ Now, yours is justice-business, you say. You come at an
irregular time, and I have somebody else waiting for me; so be
quick. What brings you here?
_Job._ My daughter's seduction, Sir Simon;--and it has done my
heart good to hear your worship say, 'tis your duty to discourage
all such immorality.
_Sir Simon._ To be sure it is;--but men, like you, shou'dn't be too
apt to lay hold of every sentiment justice drops, lest you misapply
it. 'Tis like an officious footman snatching up his mistress's
periwig, and clapping it on again, hind part before. What are you?
_Job._ A tradesman, Sir Simon. I have been a freeholder, in this
district, for many a year.
_Sir Simon._ A freeholder!--Zounds! one of Frank's voters, perhaps,
and of consequence at his election. [_Aside._] Won't you, my good
friend, take a chair?
_Job._ Thank you, Sir Simon, I know my proper place. I didn't come
here to sit down with Sir Simon Rochdale, because I am a freeholder;
I come to demand my right, because you are a justice.
_Sir Simon._ A man of respectability, a tradesman, and a freeholder,
in such a serious case as yours, had better have recourse to a court
of law.
_Job._ I am not rich, now, Sir Simon, whatever I may have been.
_Sir Simon._ A magistrate, honest, friend, can't give you
damages:--you must fee counsel.
_Job._ I can't afford an expensive lawsuit, Sir Simon:--and, begging
your pardon, I think the law never intended that an injured man, in
middling circumstances, should either go without redress, or starve
himself to obtain it.
_Sir Simon._ Whatever advice I can give you, you shall have it for
nothing; but I can't jump over justice's hedges and ditches. Courts
of law are broad high roads, made for national convenience; if your
way lie through them, 'tis but fair you should pay the turnpikes.
Who is the offender?
_Job._ He lives on your estate, Sir Simon.
_Sir Simon._ Oho! a tenant!--Then I may carry you through your
journey by a short cut. Let him marry your daughter, my honest
friend.
_Job._ He won't.
_Sir Simon._ Why not?
_Job._ He's going to marry another.
_Sir Simon._ Then he turns out. The rascal sha'n't disgrace my
estate four and twenty hours longer.--Injure a reputable tradesman,
my neighbour!----a freeholder!--and refuse to----did you say he was
poor?
_Job._ No, Sir Simon; and, by and by, if you don't stand in his way,
he may be very rich.
_Sir Simon._ Rich! eh!--Why, zounds! is he a gentleman?
_Job._ I have answer'd that question already, Sir Simon.
_Sir Simon._ Not that I remember.
_Job._ I thought I had been telling you his behaviour.
_Sir Simon._ Umph!
_Job._ I reckon many of my neighbours honest men, though I can't
call them gentlemen;--but I reckon no man a gentleman, that I can't
call honest.
_Sir Simon._ Harkye, neighbour;--if he's a gentleman (and I have
several giddy young tenants, with more money than thought), let him
give you a good round sum, and there's an end.
_Job._ A good round sum!--Damn me, I shall choke! [_Aside._] A
ruffian, with a crape, puts a pistol to my breast, and robs me of
forty shillings;--a scoundrel, with a smiling face, creeps to my
fireside, and robs my daughter of her innocence. The judge can't
allow restitution to spare the highwayman;--then, pray, Sir
Simon,--I wish to speak humbly--pray don't insult the father, by
calling money a reparation from the seducer.
_Sir Simon._ This fellow must be dealt with quietly I see--Justice,
my honest friend, is----justice.--As a magistrate, I make no
distinction of persons.--Seduction is a heinous offence: and,
whatever is in my power, I----
_Job._ The offender is in your power, Sir Simon.
_Sir Simon._ Well, well; don't be hasty, and I'll take cognizance of
him.--We must do things in form:--but you mustn't be passionate.
[_Goes to the Table, and takes up a Pen._] Come, give me his
christian and surname, and I'll see what's to be done for you.--Now,
what name must I write?
_Job._ Francis Rochdale.
_Sir Simon._ [_Drops the Pen, looks at JOB, and starts up._] Damn me!
if it isn't the brazier!
_Job._ Justice is justice, Sir Simon. I am a respectable tradesman,
your neighbour, and a freeholder.--Seduction is a heinous offence; a
magistrate knows no distinction of persons; and a rascal musn't
disgrace your estate four and twenty hours longer.
_Sir Simon._ [_Sheepishly._] I believe your name is Thornberry?
_Job._ It is, Sir Simon. I never blush'd at my name, till your son
made me blush for yours.
_Sir Simon._ Mr. Thornberry--I--I heard something of my
son's--a--little indiscretion, some mornings ago.
_Job._ Did you, Sir Simon? you never sent to me about it; so, I
suppose, the news reach'd you at one of the hours you don't set
apart for justice.
_Sir Simon._ This is a----a very awkward business, Mr. Thornberry.
Something like a hump back;--we can never set it quite straight, so
we must bolster it.
_Job._ How do you mean, Sir Simon?
_Sir Simon._ Why--'tis a--a disagreeable affair, and--we--must hush
it up.
_Job._ Hush it up! a justice compound with a father, to wink at his
child's injuries! if you and I hush it up so, Sir Simon, how shall
we hush it up here? [_Striking his Breast._] In one word, will your
son marry my daughter?
_Sir Simon._ What! my son marry the daughter of a brazier!
_Job._ He has ruined the daughter of a brazier.--If the best lord in
the land degrades himself by a crime, you can't call his atonement
for it a condescension.
_Sir Simon._ Honest friend--I don't know in what quantities you may
sell brass at your shop; but when you come abroad, and ask a baronet
to marry his son to your daughter, damn me, if you ar'n't a
wholesale dealer!
_Job._ And I can't tell, Sir Simon, how you may please to retail
justice; but when a customer comes to deal largely with you, damn me
if you don't shut up the shop windows!
_Sir Simon._ You are growing saucy. Leave the room, or I shall
commit you.
_Job._ Commit me! you will please to observe, Sir Simon, I
remember'd my duty, till you forgot yours. You asked me, at first,
to sit down in your presence. I knew better than to do so, before a
baronet and a justice of peace. But I lose my respect for my
superior in rank, when he's so much below my equals in fair
dealing:--and, since the magistrate has left the chair [_Slams the
Chair into the middle of the Room._] I'll sit down on it. [_Sits
down._] There!--'Tis fit it should be fill'd by somebody--and,
dam'me if I leave the house till you redress my daughter, or I shame
you all over the county!
_Sir Simon._ Why, you impudent mechanic! I shou'dn't wonder if the
scoundrel call'd for my clerk, and sign'd my mittimus. [_Rings the
Bell._] Fellow, get out of that chair.
_Job._ I sha'n't stir. If you want to sit down, take another. This
is the chair of justice: it's the most uneasy for you of any in the
room.
_Enter SERVANT._
_Sir Simon._ Tell Mr. Rochdale to come to me directly.
_Serv._ Yes, Sir Simon. [_Sees JOB._] Hee! hee!
_Sir Simon._ Don't stand grinning, you booby! but go.
_Serv._ Yes, Sir Simon. Hee! he! [_Exit._
_Job._ [_Reaching a Book from the Table._] "Burn's Justice!"
_Sir Simon._ And how dare you take it up?
_Job._ Because you have laid it down. Read it a little better, and,
then, I may respect you more.--There it is.
[_Throws it on the Floor._
_Enter FRANK ROCHDALE._
_Sir Simon._ So, sir! prettily I am insulted on your account!
_Frank._ Good Heaven, sir! what is the matter?
_Sir Simon._ The matter! [_Points to JOB._] Lug that old bundle of
brass out of my chair, directly.
[_FRANK casts his Eyes on THORNBERRY, then
on the Ground, and stands abashed._
_Job._ He dare as soon jump into one of your tin-mines.
Brass!--there is no baser metal than hypocrisy: he came with that
false coin to my shop, and it pass'd; but see how conscience nails
him to the spot, now!
_Frank._ [_To SIR SIMON._] Sir, I came to explain all.
_Sir Simon._ Sir, you must be aware that all is explained already.
You provoke a brazier almost to knock me down; and bring me news of
it, when he is fix'd as tight in my study, as a copper in my
kitchen.
_Frank._ [_Advancing to JOB._] Mr. Thornberry, I----
_Job._ Keep your distance! I'm an old fellow; but if my daughter's
seducer comes near me, I'll beat him as flat as a stewpan.
_Frank._ [_Still advancing._] Suffer me to speak, and--
_Job._ [_Rising from the Chair, and holding up his Cane._] Come an
inch nearer, and I'll be as good as my word.
_Enter PEREGRINE._
_Pereg._ Hold!
_Job._ Eh! you here? then I have some chance, perhaps, of getting
righted, at last.
_Pereg._ Do not permit passion to weaken that chance.
_Job._ Oh, plague! you don't know;--I wasn't violent till----
_Pereg._ Nay, nay; cease to grasp that cane.--While we are so
conspicuously bless'd with laws to chastise a culprit, the mace of
justice is the only proper weapon for the injured.--Let me talk with
you. [_Takes THORNBERRY aside._
_Sir Simon._ [_To FRANK ROCHDALE._] Well, sir; who may this last
person be, whom you have thought proper should visit me?
_Frank._ A stranger in this country, sir, and----
_Sir Simon._ And a friend, I perceive, of that old ruffian.
_Frank._ I have reason to think, sir, he is a friend to Mr.
Thornberry.
_Sir Simon._ Sir, I am very much obliged to you.--You send a brazier
to challenge me, and now, I suppose, you have brought a travelling
tinker for his second. Where does he come from?
_Frank._ India, sir. He leap'd from the vessel that was foundering
on the rocks, this morning, and swam to shore.
_Sir Simon._ Did he? I wish he had taken the jump with the brazier
tied to his neck.
[_PEREGRINE and JOB come forward._
_Pereg._ [_Apart to JOB._] I can discuss it better in your absence.
Be near with Mary: should the issue be favourable, I will call you.
_Job._ [_Apart to PEREG._] Well, well! I will. You have a better
head at it than I.----Justice! Oh, if I was Lord Chancellor, I'd
knock all the family down with the mace, in a minute. [_Exit._
_Pereg._ Suffer me to say a few words, Sir Simon Rochdale, in behalf
of that unhappy man. [_Pointing to where JOB was gone out._
_Sir Simon._ And pray, sir, what privilege have you to interfere in
my domestic concerns?
_Pereg._ None, as it appears abstractedly. Old Thornberry has just
deputed me to accommodate his domestic concerns with you: I would,
willingly, not touch upon yours.
_Sir Simon._ Poh! poh! You can't touch upon one, Without being
impertinent about the other.
_Pereg._ Have the candour to suppose, Sir Simon, that I mean no
disrespect to your house. Although I may stickle, lustily, with you,
in the cause of an aggrieved man, believe me, early habits have
taught me to be anxious for the prosperity of the Rochdales.
_Sir Simon._ Early habits!
_Pereg._ I happened to be born on your estate, Sir Simon; and have
obligations to some part of your family.
_Sir Simon._ Then, upon my soul, you have chosen a pretty way to
repay them!
_Pereg._ I know no better way of repaying them, than by consulting
your family honour. In my boyhood, it seem'd as if nature had
dropp'd me a kind of infant subject on your father's Cornish
territory; and the whole pedigree of your house is familiar to me.
_Sir Simon._ Is it? Confound him, he has heard of the miller!
[_Aside._] Sir, you may talk this tolerably well; but 'tis my
hope--my opinion, I mean, you can't tell who was my grandfather.
_Pereg._ Whisper the secret to yourself, Sir Simon; and let reason
also whisper to you, that, when honest industry raises a family to
opulence and honours, its very original lowness sheds lustre on its
elevation;--but all its glory fades, when it has given a wound, and
denies a balsam, to a man, as humble, and as honest, as your own
ancestor.
_Sir Simon._ But I haven't given the wound.--And why, good sir,
won't you be pleased to speak your sentiments!
[_To FRANK, who has retired, during the above
Conversation, to the Back of the Room._
_Frank._ The first are, obedience to my father, sir; and, if I must
proceed, I own that nothing, in my mind, but the amplest atonement,
can extinguish true remorse for a cruelty.
_Sir Simon._ Ha! in other words, you can't clap an extinguisher upon
your feelings, without a father-in-law who can sell you one. But
Lady Caroline Braymore is your wife, or I am no longer your father.
_Enter TOM SHUFFLETON and LADY CAROLINE BRAYMORE._
_Shuff._ How d'ye do, good folks? How d'ye do?
_Sir Simon._ Ha! Lady Caroline!--Tom, I have had a little
business.--The last dinner-bell has rung, Lady Caroline; but I'll
attend you directly.
_Shuff._ Baronet, I'm afraid we sha'n't be able to dine with you
to-day.
_Sir Simon._ Not dine with me!
_Lady Car._ No;--we are just married!
_Sir Simon._ Hell and the devil! married!
_Shuff._ Yes; we are married, and can't come.
_Pereg._ [_Aside._] Then 'tis time to speak to old Thornberry.
[_Exit._
_Sir Simon._ Lady Caroline!
_Lady Car._ I lost my appetite in your family this morning, Sir
Simon; and have no relish for any thing you can have the goodness to
offer me.
_Shuff._ Don't press us, baronet;--that's quite out, in the New
School.
_Sir Simon._ Oh, damn the New School!--who will explain all this
mystery?
_Frank._ Mr. Shuffleton shall explain it, sir; and other mysteries
too.
_Shuff._ My dear Frank, I have something to say to you. But here
comes my papa; I've been talking to him, Sir Simon, and he'll talk
to you. He does very well to explain, for the benefit of a country
gentleman.
_Enter LORD FITZ BALAAM._
_Sir Simon._ My Lord, it is painful to be referred to you, when so
much is to be said. What is it all?
_Lord Fitz._ You are disappointed, Sir Simon, and I am ruin'd.
_Sir Simon._ But, my lord---- [_They go up the Stage._
[_LADY CAROLINE throws herself carelessly into a
Chair. SHUFFLETON advances to FRANK._
_Shuff._ My dear Frank, I----I have had a devilish deal of trouble
in getting this business off your hands. But you see, I have done my
best for you.
_Frank._ For yourself, you mean.
_Shuff._ Come, damn it, my good fellow, don't be ungrateful to a
friend.
_Frank._ Take back this letter of recommendation, you wrote for
Mary, as a friend. When you assume that name with me, Mr.
Shuffleton, for myself I laugh; for you I blush; but for sacred
friendship's profanation I grieve. [_Turns from him._
_Shuff._ That all happens from living so much out of town.
_Enter PEREGRINE, JOB THORNBERRY, and MARY._
_Pereg._ Now, Sir Simon, as accident seems to have thwarted a
design, which probity could never applaud, you may, perhaps, be
inclined to do justice here.
_Job._ Justice is all I come for--damn their favours! Cheer up,
Mary!
_Sir Simon._ [_To PEREG._] I was in hopes I had got rid of you. You
are an orator from the sea-shore; but you must put more pebbles in
your mouth before you harangue me into a tea-kettle connexion.
_Shuff._ That's my friend at the Red Cow. He is the new-old _cher
ami_ to honest tea-kettle's daughter.
_Frank._ Your insinuation is false, sir.
_Shuff._ False! [_Stepping forward._
_Lady Car._ Hush! don't quarrel;--we are only married to-day.
_Shuff._ That's true; I won't do any thing to make you unhappy for
these three weeks.
_Pereg._ Sir Simon Rochdale, if my oratory fail, and which, indeed,
is weak, may interest prevail with you?
_Sir Simon._ No; rather than consent, I'd give up every acre of my
estate.
_Pereg._ Your conduct proves you unworthy of your estate; and,
unluckily for you, you have roused the indignation of an elder
brother, who now stands before you, and claims it.
_Sir Simon._ Eh!--Zounds!--Peregrine!
_Pereg._ I can make my title too good, in an instant, for you to
dispute it. My agent in London has long had documents on the secret
he has kept; and several old inhabitants here, I know, are prepared
to identify me.
_Sir Simon._ I had a run-away brother--a boy that every body
thought dead. How came he not to claim till now?
_Pereg._ Because, knowing he had given deep cause of offence, he
never would have asserted his abandon'd right, had he not found a
brother neglecting, what no Englishman should neglect--justice and
humanity to his inferiors.
_Enter DENNIS BRULGRUDDERY._
_Dennis._ Stand asy, all of you; for I've big news for my
half-drown'd customer. Och! bless your mug! and is it there you are?
_Sir Simon._ What's the matter now?
_Dennis._ Hould your tongue, you little man!--There's a great post
just come to your Manor-house, and the Indiaman's work'd into port.
_Job._ What, the vessel with all your property? [_To PEREG._
_Dennis._ By all that's amazing, they say you have a hundred
thousand pounds in that ship.
_Pereg._ My losses might have been somewhat more without this
recovery. I have entered into a sort of partnership with you, my
friend, this morning. How can we dissolve it?
_Job._ You are an honest man; so am I; so settle that account as you
like.
_Pereg._ Come forth, then, injured simplicity;--of your own cause
you shall be now the arbitress.
_Mary._ Do not make me speak, sir, I am so humbled--so abash'd----
_Job._ Nonsense! we are sticking up for right.
_Pereg._ Will you then speak, Mr. Rochdale?
_Frank._ My father is bereft of a fortune, sir; but I must hesitate
till his fiat is obtained, as much as if he possess'd it.
_Sir Simon._ Nay, nay; follow your own inclinations now
_Frank._ May I, sir? Oh, then, let the libertine now make
reparation, and claim a wife.
[_Running to MARY, and embracing her._
_Dennis._ His wife! Och! what a big dinner we'll have at the Red
Cow!
_Pereg._ What am I to say, sir? [_To SIR SIMON._
_Sir Simon._ Oh! you are to say what you please.
_Pereg._ Then, bless you both! And, tho' I have passed so much of my
life abroad, brother, English equity is dear to my heart. Respect
the rights of honest John Bull, and our family concerns may be
easily arranged.
_Job._ That's upright. I forgive you, young man, for what has
passed; but no one deserves forgiveness, who refuses to make amends,
when he has disturb'd the happiness of an Englishman's fireside.