_meeting_--Helen _screams--they run towards each other, as if to
embrace_--Charles _stops suddenly._
_Helen._ Charles! is it _you_, or is it your _spirit_?
_Char._ 'Tis I, madam, and you'll find I have brought my spirit with me.
_Helen._ Hey! why what the deuce ails the man?
_Char._ My presence here, no doubt astonishes you.
_Helen._ Yes, sir, your presence _does_ astonish me, but your manner
still more.
_Char._ I understand you--you would still keep a poor devil in your
toils, though in his absence you have been sporting with _nobler_ game.
_Helen._ My good friend, will you descend from your heroical stilts, and
explain your meaning in plain English?
_Char._ There needs no explanation of my conduct--call it caprice--say,
if you please, that _I_ am _altered_--say _I have changed my mind_, and
love another better--
_Helen._ Indeed! and is it come to this! he shall not see he mortifies
me, however--(_aside_) Since you are in this mind, sir, I wish you had
been pleased to signify the same by letter, sir--
_Char._ By letter?
_Helen._ Yes, sir,--for this personal visit being rather unexpected,
does not promise to be particularly pleasant--
_Char._ I believe so, madam--you did not calculate, I fancy, on this
_sudden_ return.
_Helen._ No, indeed, sir--and should have shown all Christian patience
if this _sudden_ return hadn't happened these _twelve months_.
_Char._ The devil you would! madam!--but I'll be cool--I'll cut her to
the heart with a razor of ice--I'll congeal her with indifference--you
must know, madam--
_Helen._ Bless me, Charles, how very strangely you look--you're pale and
red, and red and pale, in the same moment! why you can scarcely breathe!
and now you tremble so! I'm afraid you are very ill.
_Char._ Sarcastic!
_Helen._ You move all over like a ship in a storm!
_Char._ Vastly well, madam--and now--
_Helen._ Your teeth chatter!--
_Char._ Fire and fagots, madam, I _will_ speak!
_Helen._ Do, dear Charles, while your are able--your voice will be gone
in a minute or two, and then--
_Char._ I will be heard! (_bawling_)
_Helen._ That you will, indeed, and all over the house, too.
_Char._ Madam, will you hear me or not?
_Helen._ I am glad to find there's no affection of the lungs!
_Char._ Death and torments! may I be allowed to speak--yes, or no?
_Helen._ Yes, but gently; and make haste before they call the watch.
_Char._ Madam, madam--I wish to keep my temper--I wish to be cool.
_Helen._ Perhaps this will answer the purpose (_Fanning him_).
_Char._ (_In confusion, after a pause, aside_) Is she laughing at me
now, or trying to wheedle me into a good humour? I feel, Miss Worret,
that I am expressing myself with too much warmth--I must therefore
inform you, that being ordered home with despatches, and having some
leisure time on my hands on my return, I thought it but proper as I
passed the house to call at your door--just to say--a--a--just civilly
to say--false! cruel! perfidious girl! you may break the tough heart of
a sailor, but damn me if he will ever own it broke for love of you!
_Helen._ On my honour, sir, I do not understand what all this means.
_Char._ You don't?
_Helen._ No, sir--if your purpose here is insult, you might, methinks,
have found some fitter object than one who has so limited a power to
resent it! [_Going._
_Char._ Stay, madam, stay--what a face is there! a smile upon it too:
oh, Helen, spare those smiles! they once could wake my soul to ecstasy!
but now they rouse it into madness: save them, madam, for a happier
lover--save them for lord Austencourt.
_Helen._ Charles, Charles, you have been deceived: but come, sit down
and hear me.
_Char._ I am all attention, and listen to you with all that patience
which the subject demands.
_Helen._ As you know the world, Charles, you cannot wonder that my
father (in the main a very good father, but in this respect like all
other fathers) should wish to unite his daughter to a man whose rank and
fortune--
_Char._ (_Rising in anger_) Spare yourself the trouble of further
explanation, madam; I see the whole at once--you are now going to tell
me about prudence, duty, obedience, filial affection, and all the
canting catalogue of fine phrases that serve to gloss over the giddy
frailty of your sex, when you sacrifice the person and the heart at the
frequented shrine of avarice and ambition!
_Helen._ (_Rising also_) When I am next inclined to descend to
explanation, sir, I hope you will be better disposed to attend to me.
[_Going._
_Char._ A moment, madam! The whole explanation lies in a word--has not
your father concluded a treaty of marriage between you and lord
Austencourt?
_Helen._ He _has_--
_Char._ There--'tis enough! you have confessed it--
_Helen._ (_Stifling her tears_) Confessed what? you monster! I've
confessed nothing.
_Char._ Haven't you acknowledged that you are to be the wife of another?
_Helen._ No.
_Char._ No! won't you consent then?
_Helen._ Half an hour ago nothing on earth should have induced me to
consent--but since I see, Charles, of what your temper is capable, I
shall think it more laudable to risk my happiness by obedience to my
father, than by an ill-judged constancy to one who seems so little
inclined to deserve it. [_Exit._
_Char._ Hey! where am I! zounds, I see my whole error at once! Oh,
Helen, Helen--for mercy's sake one moment more!--She's gone--and has
left me in anger! but I will see her again, and obtain her
forgiveness--fool, idiot, dolt, ass, that I am, to suffer my cursed
temper to master reason and affection at the risk of losing the dearest
blessing of life--a lovely and an amiable woman! [_Exit._
_End of Act III._