SCENE I.

Produced by Steven desJardins, David Garcia and the Online

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[Illustration: HEIRESS.

MISS ALSCRIPT--YOUNG WOMAN WHERE WERE YOU EDUCATED

ACT II SCENE III

PAINTED BY R SMIRKE R A PUBLISHED BY LONGMAN & CO ENGRAVED BY CHAS WARREN

1808]

THE HEIRESS; A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS;

By GENERAL BURGOYNE.

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE.

PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.

WITH REMARKS BY MRS. INCHBALD.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HORST, REES, AND ORME,

PATERNOSTER ROW.

WILLIAM SAVAGE, PRINTER,

LONDON.

REMARKS.

The author of this play was an elegant writer, and a brave soldier--yet,

as an author he had faults, and as a general failures. His life was

eventful; and he appears to have had, among his other qualities, that

of patient philosophy: or if, in the warmth of youth, or pride of

manhood, he was ever elated by prosperity, it is certain he bore adversity

with cheerful resignation; that adversity, which is more formidable to

the ambitious, than poverty to the luxurious--disappointment of expected

renown.

Secret love, and clandestine marriage, composed the first acts of that

tragi-comedy, called his life. His cultivated mind, and endearing

manners, reconciled, in a short time, the noble house of Derby to his

stolen union with Lady Charlotte Stanley: her father, the late Earl of

Derby, acknowledged him for his son-in-law; while the present Earl

considered him, not only as his uncle, but his friend[1].

The author was, at that period, but a subaltern in the army. The

patronage of his new relations, more than his own merit, it is probable,

obtained him higher rank. He was, however, possessed of talents for a

general, and those talents were occasionally rewarded with success. But

his misfortunes in battle have been accompanied by circumstances more

memorable than his victories--the latter were but of slight or partial

consequence; his defeat at Saratoga was of great and direful import.

He sent an able, and most pathetic account, from America, of the

surrender of his whole army--it was correctly written, and the style

charmed every reader--but he had better have beaten the enemy, and

mis-spelt every word of his dispatch; for so, probably, the great Duke

of Marlborough would have done, both by one and the other.

General Burgoyne appears to have been a man capable of performing all

things that did not require absolute genius. He was complete in

mediocrity, A valiant, but not always a skilful, soldier; an elegant,

but sometimes an insipid, writer.

When the comedy of "The Heiress" was first acted, it was compared, and

preferred by some persons, to "The School for Scandal." It attracted

vast sums of money from the east, as well as the west part of the

metropolis;--but was more justly appreciated when the season of acting

was over, and the playhouses closed.

Still, it is a production which claims high respect, from a degree of

refinement which pervades the whole work; from the peculiar situation

of its author; and from other circumstances closely connected with its

performance on the stage.--"The Heiress" is dedicated to the Earl of

Derby; and the present Countess of Derby was the Lady Emily of the

drama when it was first acted.

The author, in his Preface, has, with much art, paid a deference to

Miss Farren, by a compliment separate from her brother and sister

performers; at the same time, wisely taking care not to excite their

jealousy, while he soothed the partiality of his noble relation. He

thanks and praises her merely for speaking his Epilogue, in which, of

course, no other performer had a claim to his acknowledgments.

Lieutenant General Burgoyne is the author of another comedy, called

"The Maid of the Oaks," and the excellent farce of "Bon Ton."--He was

enamoured of the stage, and was at a play, in the little theatre of the

Haymarket, the night previous to that on which he died suddenly, in the

summer of 1792.

He was a Privy Counsellor, Colonel of the 4th regiment of foot, and

Member of Parliament for Preston, in Lancashire. He had held many

offices of great emolument; but having resigned them all about the time

he wrote this comedy, he was at length rather a confirmation of, than

an exception to, the adage--an author is seldom wealthy.

[Footnote 1: The late Earl of Derby was grandfather to the present

Earl, his son having died before him.]

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

Sir Clement Flint _Mr. King._

Clifford _Mr. Smith._

Lord Gayville _Mr. Palmer._

Alscrip _Mr. Parsons._

Chignon _Mr. Baddeley._

Mr. Blandish _Mr. Bannister, jun._

Prompt _Mr. R. Palmer._

Mr. Rightly _Mr. Aickin._

Lady Emily _Miss Farren._

Miss Alscrip _Miss Pope._

Miss Alton _Mrs. Crouch._

Mrs. Sagely _Mrs. Booth._

Tiffany _Miss Tidswell._

Mrs. Blandish _Mrs. Wilson._

Chairmen, Servants, _&c._

SCENE--_London._

THE HEIRESS.

* * * * *

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

_A Lady's Apartment._

_MR. BLANDISH and MRS. LETITIA BLANDISH discovered writing: Letters

folded up, and Message Cards scattered upon the Table._

_MRS. BLANDISH leans upon her Elbows, as meditating; writes, as pleased

with her Thought; lays down the Pen._

_Mrs. Blandish._ There it is, complete----

[_Reads conceitedly._

_Adieu, my charming friend, my amiable, my all

Accomplished associate! conceive the ardour of

Your lovers united with your own sensibility--

Still will the compound be but faintly expressive

Of the truth and tenderness of your_

LETITIA BLANDISH.

There's phrase--there's a period--match it, if you can.

_Blandish._ Not I, indeed: I am working upon a quite different plan:

but, in the name of the old father of adulation, to whom is that

perfect phrase addressed?

_Mrs. Blandish._ To one worth the pains, I can tell you--Miss Alscrip.

_Blandish._ What, sensibility to Miss Alscrip! My dear sister, this is

too much, even in your own way: had you run changes upon her fortune,

stocks, bonds, and mortgages; upon Lord Gayville's coronet at her feet,

or forty other coronets, to make footballs of if she pleased,--it would

have been plausible; but the quality you have selected----

_Mrs. Blandish._ Is one she has no pretensions to; therefore the

flattery is more persuasive--that's my maxim.

_Blandish._ And mine also, but I don't try it quite so

high--Sensibility to Miss Alscrip! you might as well have applied it to

her uncle's pig-iron, from which she derives her first fifty thousand;

or the harder heart of the old usurer, her father, from which she

expects the second. But come, [_Rings._] to the business of the morning.

_Enter PROMPT._

Here, Prompt--send out the chairman with the billets and cards.--Have

you any orders, madam?

_Mrs. Blandish._ [_Delivering her Letter._] This to Miss Alscrip, with

my impatient inquiries after her last night's rest, and that she shall

have my personal salute in half an hour.--You take care to send to all

the lying-in ladies?

_Prompt._ At their doors, madam, before the first load of straw.

_Blandish._ And to all great men that keep the house--whether for their

own disorders, or those of the nation?

_Prompt._ To all, sir--their secretaries, and principal clerks.

_Blandish._ [_Aside to PROMPT._] How goes on the business you have

undertaken for Lord Gayville?

_Prompt._ I have conveyed his letter, and expect this morning to get an

answer.

_Blandish._ He does not think me in the secret?

_Prompt._ Mercy forbid you should be!

[_Archly._

_Blandish._ I should never forgive your meddling.

_Prompt._ Oh! never, never!

_Blandish._ [_Aloud._] Well, dispatch----

_Mrs. Blandish._ Hold!--apropos, to the lying-in list--at Mrs. Barbara

Winterbloom's, to inquire after the Angola kittens, and the last hatch

of Java sparrows.

_Prompt._ [_Reading his Memorandum as he goes out._] Ladies in the

straw--ministers, &c.--old maids, cats, and sparrows: never had a

better list of how d'ye's, since I had the honour to collect for the

Blandish family.

[_Exit._

_Mrs. Blandish._ These are the attentions that establish valuable

friendships in female life. By adapting myself to the whims of one,

submitting to the jest of another, assisting the little plots of a

third, and taking part against the husbands with all, I am become an

absolute essential in the polite world; the very soul of every

fashionable party in town or country.

_Blandish._ The country! Pshaw! Time thrown away.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Time thrown away! As if women of fashion left London,

to turn freckled shepherdesses.--No, no; cards, cards and backgammon,

are the delights of rural life; and, slightly as you may think of my

skill, at the year's end I am no inconsiderable sharer in the pin-money

of my society.

_Blandish._ A paltry resource----Gambling is a damned trade, and I have

done with it.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Indeed!

_Blandish._ Yes; 'twas high time.--The women don't pay; and as for the

men, the age grows circumspect in proportion to its poverty. It's odds

but one loses a character to establish a debt, and must fight a duel to

obtain the payment. I have a thousand better plans, but two principal

ones; and I am only at a loss which to chuse.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Out with them, I beseech you.

_Blandish._ Whether I shall marry my friend's intended bride, or his

sister.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Marry his intended bride?----What, pig-iron and

usury?--Your opinion of her must advance your addresses admirably.

_Blandish._ My lord's opinion of her will advance them; he can't bear

the sight of her, and, in defiance of his uncle, Sir Clement Flint's,

eagerness for the match, is running mad after an adventure, which I,

who am his confidant, shall keep going till I determine.--There's news

for you.

_Mrs. Blandish._ And his sister, Lady Emily, the alternative! The first

match in England, in beauty, wit, and accomplishment.

_Blandish._ Pooh! A fig for her personal charms; she will bring me

connexion that would soon supply fortune; the other would bring fortune

enough to make connexion unnecessary.

_Mrs. Blandish._ And as to the certainty of success with the one or the

other----

_Blandish._ Success!--Are they not women?--But I must away. And first

for Lord Gayville, and his fellow student, Clifford.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Apropos! Look well to Clifford. Lady Emily and he were

acquainted at the age of first impressions.

_Blandish._ I dare say he always meant to be the complete friend of the

family; for, besides his design on Lady Emily, his game, I find, has

been to work upon Lord Gayville's understanding; he thinks he must

finally establish himself in his esteem, by inexorably opposing all

his follies.--Poor simpleton!--Now, my touch of opposition goes only

to enhance the value of my acquiescence. So adieu for the morning--You

to Miss Alscrip, with an unction of flattery, fit for a house-painter's

brush; I to Sir Clement, and his family, with a composition as delicate

as ether, and to be applied with the point of a feather.

[_Going._

_Mrs. Blandish._ Hark you, Blandish--a good wish before you go: To make

your success complete, may you find but half your own vanity in those

you have to work on!

_Blandish._ Thank you, my dear Letty; this is not the only tap you have

hit me to-day, and you are right; for if you and I did not sometimes

speak truth to each other, we should forget there was such a quality

incident to the human mind.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_LORD GAYVILLE's Apartment._

_Enter LORD GAYVILLE and MR. CLIFFORD._

_Lord G._ My dear Clifford, urge me no more. How can a man of your

liberality of sentiment descend to be the advocate of my uncle's family

avarice?

_Cliff._ My lord, you do not live for yourself. You have an ancient

name and title to support.

_Lord G._ Preposterous policy! Whenever the father builds, games, or

electioneers, the heir and title roust go to market. Oh, the happy

families Sir Clement Flint will enumerate, where this practice has

prevailed for centuries; and the estate been improved in every

generation, though specifically spent by each individual!

_Cliff._ But you thought with him a month ago, and wrote with transport

of the match--"Whenever I think of Miss Alscrip, visions of equipage

and splendour, villas and hotels, the delights of independence and

profuseness, dance in my imagination."

_Lord G._ It is true, I was that dissipated, fashionable wretch.

_Cliff._ Come, this reserve betrays a consciousness of having acted

wrong: You would not hide what would give me pleasure: But I'll not be

officious.

_Lord G._ Hear me without severity, and I'll tell you all. Such a

woman, such an assemblage of all that's lovely in the sex!----

_Cliff._ Well, but--the who, the how, the where?

_Lord G._ I met her walking, and alone; and, indeed, so humbly

circumstanced as to carry a parcel in her own hand.

_Cliff._ I cannot but smile at this opening of your adventure.--But

proceed.

_Lord G._ Her dress was such as a judicious painter would chuse to

characterise modesty. But natural grace and elegance stole upon the

observation, and, through the simplicity of a quaker, showed all we

could conceive of a goddess. I gazed, and turned idolater.

_Cliff._ [_Smiling._] You may as well finish the description in poetry

at once; you are on the very verge of it.

_Lord G._ She was under the persecution of one of those beings peculiar

to this town, who assume the name of gentlemen, upon the sole credentials

of a boot, a switch, and round hat--the things that escape from counters

and writing desks, to disturb public places, insult foreigners, and

put modest women out of countenance. I had no difficulty in the rescue.

_Cliff._ And, having silenced the dragon, in the true spirit of

chivalry, you conducted the damsel to her castle.

_Lord G._ The utmost I could obtain was leave to put her into a hackney

coach, which I followed unperceived, and lodged her in the house of an

obscure milliner, in a bye street, whose favour was soon conciliated by

a few guineas. I almost lived in the house; and often, when I was not

suspected to be there, passed whole hours listening to a voice, that

would have captivated my very soul, though it had been her only

attraction. At last----

_Cliff._ What is to follow?

_Lord G._ By the persuasions of the woman, who laughed at my scruples

with an unknown girl, a lodger upon a second floor, I hid myself in the

closet of her apartment: and the practised trader assured me, I had

nothing to fear from the interruption of the family.

_Cliff._ Oh, for shame, my lord! whatever may be the end of your

adventure, such means were very much below you.

_Lord G._ I confess it, and have been punished. Upon the discovery

of me, fear, indignation, and resolution, agitated the whole frame

of the sweet girl by turns.--I should as soon have committed sacrilege,

as have offered an affront to her person.--Confused--overpowered--I

stammered out a few incoherent words--Interest in her fortune--respect

--entreaty of forgiveness--and left her, to detest me.

_Cliff._ You need go no farther. I meant to rally you, but your

proceedings and emotion alarm me for your peace and honour. You are on

a double precipice; on one side impelled by folly, on the other--

_Lord G._ Hold, Clifford, I am not prepared for so much admonition.

Your tone is changed since our separation; you seem to drop the

companion, and assume the governor.

_Cliff._ No, my lord, I scorn the sycophant, and assert the friend.

_Enter SERVANT, followed by BLANDISH._

_Serv._ My lord, Mr. Blandish.

[_Exit._

_Cliff._ [_Significantly._] I hope every man will do the same.

_Blandish._ Mr. Clifford, do not let me drive you away--I want to learn

your power to gain and to preserve dear Lord Gayville's esteem.

_Cliff._ [_With a seeming Effort to withdraw his Hand, which BLANDISH

holds._] Sir, you are quite accomplished to be an example.--

_Blandish._ I have been at your apartment, to look for you--we have

been talking of you with Sir Clement--Lady Emily threw in her word.--

_Cliff._ [_Disengaging his Hand._] Oh, sir, you make me too proud.

[_Aside._] Practised parasite!

[_Exit._

_Blandish._ [_Aside._] Sneering puppy.----[_To LORD GAYVILLE._] My lord,

you seem disconcerted; has any thing new occurred?

_Lord G._ No, for there is nothing new in being disappointed in a

friend.

_Blandish._ Have you told your story to Mr. Clifford?

_Lord G._ I have, and I might as well have told it to the cynic my

uncle: he could not have discouraged or condemned me more.

_Blandish._ They are both in the right. I see things exactly as they

do--but I have less fortitude, or more attachment than others:--The

inclinations of the man, I love, are spells upon my opposition.

_Lord G._ Kind Blandish! you are the confidant I want.

_Blandish._ What has happened since your discovery in the closet?

_Lord G._ The lovely wanderer left her lodgings the next morning--but

I have again found her--she is in a house of equal retirement, but of

very different character, in the city, and inaccessible. I have wrote

to her, and knowing her to be distressed, I have enclosed bank bills

for two hundred pounds, the acceptance of which I have urged with all

the delicacy I am master of, and, by Heaven! without a purpose of

corruption.

_Blandish._ Two hundred pounds, and Lord Gayville's name--

_Lord G._ She has never known me, but by the name of Mr. Heartly. Since

my ambition has been to be loved for my own sake, I have been jealous

of my title.

_Blandish._ And pr'ythee by what diligence or chance, did Mr. Heartly

trace his fugitive?

_Lord G._ By the acuteness of Mr. Prompt, your valet de chambre. You

must pardon me for pressing into my service for this occasion, the

fellow in the world fittest for it.--Here he comes.

_Enter PROMPT._

_Prompt._ Are you alone, my lord?

[_Starts at seeing his Master._

_Lord G._ Don't be afraid, Prompt--your peace is made.

_Prompt._ Then there is my return for your lordship's goodness.

[_Giving the Letter._] This letter was just now brought to the place

appointed, by a porter.

_Lord G._ By a Cupid, honest Prompt, and these characters were engraved

by the point of his arrow! [_Kissing the Superscription._] "To ----

Heartly, Esq." Blandish, did you ever see any thing like it?

_Blandish._ If her style be equal to her hand-writing--

_Lord G._ If it be equal!--Infidel! you shall have proof directly.

[_Opens the Letter precipitately._] Hey-day! what the devil's here? my

bills again, and no line--not a word--Death and disappointment, what's

this!

_Prompt._ Gad it's well if she is not off again--'faith I never asked

where the letter came from.

_Lord G._ Should you know the messenger again?

_Prompt._ I believe I should, my lord. For a Cupid he was somewhat in

years, about six feet high, and a nose rather given to purple.

_Lord G._ Spare your wit, sir, till you find him.

_Prompt._ I have a shorter way--my life upon it I start her myself.

_Blandish._ And what is your device, sirrah!

_Prompt._ Lord, sir, nothing so easy as to bring every living creature

in this town to the window: a tame bear, or a mad ox; two men, or two

dogs fighting; a balloon in the air--(or tied up to the ceiling 'tis

the same thing) make but noise enough, and out they come, first and

second childhood, and every thing between--I am sure I shall know her

by inspiration.

_Lord G._ Shall I describe her to you?

_Prompt._ No, my lord, time is too precious--I'll be at her last

lodgings, and afterwards half the town over before your lordship will

travel from her forehead to her chin.

_Lord G._ Away then, my good fellow. He cannot mistake her, for when

she was formed, nature broke the mould.

[_Exit PROMPT._

_Blandish._ Now for the blood of me, cannot I call that fellow back; it

is absolute infatuation: Ah! I see how this will end.

_Lord G._ What are your apprehensions?

_Blandish._ That my ferret yonder will do his part completely; that I

shall set all your uncle's doctrine at nought, and thus lend myself to

this wild intrigue, till the girl is put into your arms.

_Lord G._ Propitious be the thought, my best friend--my uncle's

doctrine! but advise me, how shall I keep my secret from him for the

present? 'Faith, it is not very easy; Sir Clement is suspicion

personified: his eye probes one's very thought.

_Blandish._ Your best chance would be to double your assiduities to

Miss Alscrip. But then dissimulation is so mean a vice.--

_Lord G._ It is so indeed, and if I give into it for a moment, it is

upon the determination of never being her husband. I may despise and

offend a woman; but disgust would be no excuse for betraying her.

Adieu, Blandish; if you see Prompt first, I trust to you for the

quickest communication of intelligence.

_Blandish._ I am afraid you may--I cannot resist you. [_Exit LORD

GAYVILLE._]--Ah! wrong--wrong--wrong; I hope that exclamation is not

lost. A blind compliance with a young man's passions is a poor plot

upon his affections.

[_Exit._

SCENE III.

_MRS. SAGELY's House_.

_Enter MRS. SAGELY and MISS ALTON._

_Mrs. Sagely._ Indeed, Miss Alton, (since you are resolved to

continue that name) you may bless yourself for finding me out in this

wilderness.--Wilderness! this town is ten times more dangerous to youth

and innocence: every man you meet is a wolf.

_Miss Alton._ Dear madam, I see you dwell upon my indiscretion in

flying to London; but remember the safeguard I expected to find

here. How cruel was the disappointment! how dangerous have been the

consequences! I thought the chance happy that threw a retired lodging

in my way: I was upon my guard against the other sex, but for my own

to be treacherous to an unfortunate--could I expect it?

_Mrs. Sagely._ Suspect every body, if you would be safe--but most of

all suspect yourself. Ah, my pretty truant--the heart, that is so

violent in its aversions, is in sad danger of being the same in its

affections, depend upon it.

_Miss Alton._ Let them spring from a just esteem, and you will absolve

me: my aversion was to the character of the wretch I was threatened

with--can you reprove me?

_Mrs. Sagely._ And tell me truly now; do you feel the same detestation

for this worse character you have made acquaintance with? This

rake--this abominable Heartly?----Ah, child, your look is suspicious.

_Miss Alton._ Madam, I have not a thought, that I will not sincerely

lay open to you. Mr. Heartly is made to please, and to be avoided; I

resent his attempts, and desire never to see him more--his discovery of

me here; his letters, his offers have greatly alarmed me. I conjure you

lose not an hour in placing me under the sort of protection I solicited.

_Mrs. Sagely._ If you are resolved, I believe I can serve you. Miss

Alscrip, the great heiress, (you may have heard of the name in your

family) has been inquiring among decayed gentry for a companion. She

is too fine a lady to bear to be alone, and perhaps does not look to a

husband's company as a certain dependence. Your musical talents will be

a great recommendation--She is already apprized, and a line from me

will introduce you.

_Miss Alton._ I will avail myself of your kindness immediately.

_Prompt._ [_Without._] I tell you I have business with Mrs. Sagely--I

must come in.

_Mrs. Sagely._ As I live here is an impudent fellow forcing himself

into the passage!

_Miss Alton._ Oh Heaven! if Mr. Heartly should be behind!

_Mrs. Sagely._ Get into the back parlour; be he who he will, I'll

warrant I protect you.

[_Exit MISS ALTON._

_Enter PROMPT._ [_Looking about._]

_Mrs. Sagely._ Who are you, sir? What are you looking for?

_Prompt._ Madam, I was looking----I was looking--for you.

_Mrs. Sagely._ Well, sir, and what do you want.

_Prompt._ [_Still prying about._] Madam, I want----I want--I want--

_Mrs. Sagely._ To rob the house, perhaps.

_Prompt._ Just the contrary, Madam--to see that all is safe within

it.--You have a treasure in your possession that I would not have lost

for the world--A young lady.

_Mrs. Sagely._ Indeed!--begone about your business, friend--there are

no young ladies to be spoke with here.

_Prompt._ Lord, madam, I don't desire to speak with her--My attentions

go to ladies of the elder sort--I come to make proposals to you alone.

_Mrs. Sagely._ You make proposals to me? Did you know my late husband,

sir?

_Prompt._ Husband! My good Mrs. Sagely--be at ease--I have no more

views upon you, that way, than upon my grandmother--My proposals are of

a quite different nature.

_Mrs. Sagely._ Of a different nature? Why you audacious varlet! Here,

call a constable--

_Prompt._ Dear madam, how you continue to misunderstand me--I have a

respect for you, that will set at nought all the personal temptations

about you, depend upon it, powerful as they are--And as for the young

lady, my purpose is only that you shall guard her safe.--I would offer

you a pretty snug house in a pleasant quarter of the town, where you

two would be much more commodiously lodged--the furniture new, and in

the prettiest taste--A neat little sideboard of plate--a black boy,

with a turban to wait upon you--

_Mrs. Sagely._ And for what purpose am I to be bribed? I am above it,

sirrah. I have but a pittance, 'tis true, and heavy outgoings--My

husband's decayed bookkeeper to maintain, and poor old Smiler, that

so many years together drew our whole family in a chaise--Heavy

charges--but by cutting off my luxuries, and stopping up a few windows,

I can jog on, and scorn to be beholden to you, or him that sent you.

[_PROMPT tries at the Door, and peeps through the Key-hole._] What would

the impertinent fellow be at now? Keep the door bolted, and don't stand

in sight.

_Prompt._ [_Aside._] Oh! oh!--She is here I find, and that's

enough.----My good Mrs. Sagely--your humble servant--I would fain be

better acquainted with you--in a modest way--but must wait, I see, a

more happy hour. [_Aside, going out._] When honesty and poverty do

happen to meet, they grow so fond of each other's company, it is labour

lost to try to separate them.

[_Exit._

_Mrs. Sagely._ Shut the street door after him, and never let him in

again.

_Enter MISS ALTON, from the inner Room._

_Miss Alton._ For mercy, madam, let me begone immediately. I am very

uneasy--I am certain Mr. Heartly is at the bottom of this.

_Mrs. Sagely._ I believe it, my dear, and now see the necessity of your

removal. I'll write your letter--and Heaven protect you. Remember my

warning, suspect yourself.

[_Exit._

_Miss Alton._ In truth I will. I'll forget the forbearance of this

profligate, and remember only his intentions. And is gratitude then

suspicious? Painful lesson! A woman must not think herself secure

because she has no bad impulse to fear: she must be upon her guard,

lest her very best should betray her.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

_An Apartment in SIR CLEMENT FLINT's House._

_LADY EMILY GAYVILLE and CLIFFORD at Chess._

_SIR CLEMENT sitting at a Distance, pretending to read a Parchment, but

slily observing them._

_Lady E._ Check--If you do not take care, you are gone the next move.

_Cliff._ I confess, Lady Emily, you are on the point of complete victory.

_Lady E._ Pooh, I would not give a farthing for victory without a more

spirited defence.

_Cliff._ Then you must engage with those (if those there are) that do

not find you irresistible.

_Lady E._ I could find a thousand such; but I'll engage with none whose

triumph I could not submit to with pleasure.

_Sir C._ [_Apart._] Pretty significant on both sides. I wonder how much

farther it will go.

_Lady E._ Uncle, did you speak?

_Sir C._ [_Reading to himself._] "And the parties to this indenture do

farther covenant and agree, that all and every the said lands,

tenements, and hereditaments--um--um."----How useful sometimes is

ambiguity.

[_Loud enough to be heard._

_Cliff._ A very natural observation of Sir Clement's upon that long

parchment.

[_Pauses again upon the Chess-board._

[_LADY EMILY looking pensively at his Face._

_Cliff._ To what a dilemma have you reduced me, Lady Emily! If I

advance, I perish by my temerity; and it is out of my power to retreat.

_Sir C._ [_Apart._] Better and better! To talk in cipher is a curious

faculty.

_Cliff._ Sir?

_Sir C._ [_Still reading._] "In witness whereof the said parties have

hereunto interchangeably set their hands and seals, this----um--um--day

of--um----um----."

_Lady E._ [_Resuming an Air of Vivacity._] Come, I trifle with you too

long----There's your coup de grace----Uncle, I have conquered.

[_Both rising from the Table._

_Sir C._ Niece, I do not doubt it----and in the style of the great

proficients, without looking upon the board. Clifford, was not your

mother's name Charlton?

[_Folding up the Parchment, and rising._

_Cliff._ It was, sir.

_Sir C._ In looking over the writings Alscrip has sent me, preparatory

to his daughter's settlement, I find mention of a conveyance from a Sir

William Charlton, of Devonshire. Was he a relation?

_Cliff._ My grandfather, sir: The plunder of his fortune was one of the

first materials for raising that of Mr. Alscrip, who was steward to Sir

William's estate, then manager of his difficulties, and lastly his sole

creditor.

_Sir C._ And no better monopoly than that of a needy man's distresses.

Alscrip has had twenty such, or I should not have singled out his

daughter to be Lord Gayville's wife.

_Cliff._ It is a compensation for my family losses, that in the event

they will conduce to the interest of the man I most love.

_Sir C._ Heyday, Clifford!--take care--don't trench upon the

Blandish--Your cue, you know, is sincerity.

_Cliff._ You seem to think, sir, there is no such quality. I doubt

whether you believe there is an honest man in the world.

_Sir C._ You do me great injustice--several--several--and upon the old

principle that--"honesty is the best policy."--Self-interest is the

great end of life, says human nature--Honesty is a better agent than

craft, says proverb.

_Cliff._ But as for ingenuous, or purely disinterested motives----

_Sir C._ Clifford, do you mean to laugh at me?

_Cliff._ What is your opinion, Lady Emily?

_Lady E._ [_Endeavouring again at Vivacity._] That there may be such:

but it's odds they are troublesome or insipid. Pure ingenuousness, I

take it, is a rugged sort of thing, which scarcely will bear the polish

of common civility; and for disinterestedness--young people sometimes

set out with it; but it is like travelling upon a broken spring--one is

glad to get it mended at the next stage.

_Sir C._ Emily, I protest you seem to study after me; proceed, child,

and we will read together every character that comes in our way.

_Lady E._ Read one's acquaintance----delightful! What romances, novels,

satires, and mock heroics present themselves to my imagination! Our

young men are flimsy essays; old ones, political pamphlets; coquets,

fugitive pieces; and fashionable beauties, a compilation of advertised

perfumery, essence of pearl, milk of roses, and Olympian dew.----Lord,

I should now and then though turn over an acquaintance with a sort of

fear and trembling.

_Cliff._ How so?

_Lady E._ Lest one should pop unaware upon something one should not,

like a naughty speech in an old comedy; but it is only skipping what

would make one blush.

_Sir C._ Or if you did not skip, when a woman reads by herself, and to

herself, there are wicked philosophers, who doubt whether her blushes

are very troublesome.

_Lady E._ [_To SIR CLEMENT._] Do you know now that for that speech of

yours--and for that saucy smile of yours, [_To CLIFFORD._] I am strongly

tempted to read you both aloud!

_Sir C._ Come try----I'll be the first to open the book.

_Lady E._ A treatise of the Houyhnhnms, after the manner of Swift,

tending to make us odious to ourselves, and to extract morose mirth

from our imperfections.--[_Turning to CLIFFORD._] Contrasted with an

exposition of ancient morality addressed to the moderns: a chimerical

attempt upon an obsolete subject.

_Sir C._ Clifford! we must double down that page. And now we'll have a

specimen of her Ladyship.

_Lady E._ I'll give it you myself, and with justice; Which is more than

either of you would.

_Sir C._ And without skipping.

_Lady E._ Thus then; a light, airy, fantastic sketch of genteel manners

as they are; with a little endeavour at what they ought to be--rather

entertaining than instructive, not without art, but sparing in the use

of it----

_Sir C._ But the passions, Emily. Do not forget what should stand in

the foreground of a female treatise.

_Lady E._ They abound: but mixed and blended cleverly enough to prevent

any from predominating; like the colours of a shot lutestring, that

change as you look at it sideways or full: they are sometimes brightened

by vivacity, and now and then subject to a shade of caprice--but

meaning no ill--not afraid of a Critical Review: and thus, gentlemen, I

present myself to you fresh from the press, and I hope not inelegantly

bound.

_Sir C._ Altogether making a perfectly desirable companion for the

closet: I am sure, Clifford, you will agree with me. Gad we are got

into such a pleasant freedom with each other, it is a pity to separate

while any curiosity remains in the company. Pr'ythee, Clifford, satisfy

me a little as to your history. Old Lord Hardacre, if I am rightly

informed, disinherited your father, his second son.

_Cliff._ For the very marriage we have been speaking of. The little

fortune my father could call his own was sunk before his death, as a

provision for my mother; upon an idea that whatever resentment he might

personally have incurred, it would not be extended to an innocent

offspring.

_Sir C._ A very silly confidence. How readily now, should you and I,

Emily, have discovered in a sensible old man, the irreconcileable

offence of a marriage of the passions----You understand me?

_Lady E._ Perfectly! [_Aside._] Old petrifaction, your hints always

speak forcibly.

_Sir C._ But your uncle, the present Lord, made amends?

_Cliff._ Amply. He offered to send me from Cambridge to an academy in

Germany, to fit me for foreign service: Well judging that a cannon ball

was a fair and quick provision for a poor relation.

_Sir C._ Upon my word I have known uncles less considerate.

_Cliff._ When Lord Gayville's friendship, and your indulgence, made me

the companion of his travels, Lord Hardacre's undivided cares devolved

upon my sister: whose whole independent possession, at my mother's

death, was five hundred pounds----All our education had permitted that

unhappy parent to lay by.

_Lady E._ Oh, for an act of justice and benevolence, to reconcile me to

the odious man! Tell me this instant what did he do for Miss Clifford?

_Cliff._ He bestowed upon her forty pounds a-year, upon condition that

she resided with one of his dependents in a remote county, to save the

family from disgrace; and that allowance, when I heard last from her,

he had threatened to withdraw upon her refusing a detestable match he

had endeavoured to force upon her.

_Lady E._ Poor girl!

_Sir C._ Upon my word an interesting story, and told with pathetic

effect.--Emily, you look grave, child.

_Lady E._ [_Aside._] I shall not own it however. [_To him._] For once,

my dear uncle, you want your spectacles. My thoughts are on a diverting

subject--My first visit to Miss Alscrip; to take a near view of that

collection of charms destined to my happy brother.

_Sir C._ You need not go out of the room for that purpose. The schedule

of an heiress's fortune is a compendium of her merits, and the true

security for marriage happiness.

_Lady E._ I am sure I guess at your system--That union must be most

wise, which has wealth to support it, and no affections to disturb it.

_Sir C._ Right.

_Lady E._ That makes a divorce the first promise of wedlock; and

widowhood the best blessing of life; that separates the interest of

husband, wife, and child----

_Sir C._ To establish the independent comfort of all----

_Lady E._ Upon the broad basis of family hatred. Excellent, my dear

uncle, excellent indeed; and upon that principle, though the lady is

likely to be your niece, and my sister, I am sure you will have no

objection to my laughing at her a little.

_Sir C._ You'll be puzzled to make her more ridiculous than I think

her. What is your plan?

_Lady E._ Why, though her pride is to be thought a leader in fashions,

she is sometimes a servile copyist. Blandish tells me I am her principal

model; and what is most provoking, she is intent upon catching my

manner as well as my dress, which she exaggerates to an excess that

vexes me. Now if she will take me in shade, I'll give her a new

outline, I am resolved; and if I do not make her a caricature for

a printshop----

_Cliff._ Will all this be strictly consistent with your goodnature,

Lady Emily?

_Lady E._ No, nor I don't know when I shall do any thing consistent

with it again, except leaving you two critics to a better subject than

your humble servant.

[_Courtesies, and exit with a lively air._

_Sir C._ Well, Clifford! What do you think of her?

_Cliff._ That when she professes ill-temper, she is a very awkward

counterfeit.

_Sir C._ But her beauty, her wit, her improvement since you went

abroad? I expected from a man of your age and taste, something more

than a cold compliment upon her temper. Could not you, compatibly with

the immaculate sincerity you profess, venture as far as admiration?

_Cliff._ I admire her, sir, as I do a bright star in the firmament, and

consider the distance of both as equally immeasurable.

_Sir C._ [_Aside._] Specious rogue! [_To him._] Well, leave Emily then

to be winked at through telescopes; and now to a matter of nearer

observation----What is Gayville doing?

_Cliff._ Every thing you desire, sir, I trust; but you know I have been

at home only three days, and have hardly seen him since I came.

_Sir C._ Nor I neither; but I find he has profited wonderfully by

foreign experience. After rambling half the world over without harm, he

is caught, like a travelled woodcock, at his landing.

_Cliff._ If you suspect Lord Gayville of indiscretion, why do you not

put him candidly to the test? I'll be bound for his ingenuousness not

to withold any confession you may require.

_Sir C._ You may be right, but he'll confess more to you in an hour,

than to me in a month, for all that; come, Clifford, look as you ought

to do at your interest--Sift him--Watch him--You cannot guess how much

you will make me your friend, and how grateful I may be if you will

discover----

_Cliff._ Sir, you mistake the footing upon which Lord Gayville and I

live----I am often the partner of his thoughts, but never a spy upon

his actions.

[_Bows and exit._

_Sir C._ [_Alone._] Well played Clifford! Good air and emphasis, and

well suited to the trick of the scene.--He would do, if the practical

part of deceit were as easy at his age, as discernment of it is at

mine. Gayville and Emily, if they had not a vigilant guard, would be

his sure prey; for they are examples of the generous affections coming

to maturity with their stature; while suspicion, art, and interest are

still dormant in the seed. I must employ Blandish in this business--A

rascal of a different cast--Below Clifford in hypocrisy, but greatly

above him in the scale of impudence. They shall both forward my ends,

while they think they are pursuing their own. I shall ever be sure of a

man's endeavours to serve me, while I hold out a lure to his knavery

and interest.

[_Exit._

SCENE II.

_An Antichamber._

_Alscrip._ [_Without._] Dinner not ordered till seven o'clock--Bid the

kitchen-maid get me some eggs and bacon. Plague, what with the time of

dining and the French cookery, I am in the land of starvation, with

half St. James's-Market upon my weekly bills.

_Enter [while speaking the last Sentence.]_

What a change have I made to please my unpleaseable daughter? Instead

of my regular meal at Furnival's Inn, here am I transported to

Berkeley-Square, to fast at Alscrip House, till my fine company come

from their morning ride two hours after dark----Nay, it's worse, if I

am carried among my great neighbours in Miss Alscrip's suite, as she

calls it. My lady looks over me; my lord walks over me; and sets me in

a little tottering cane chair, at the cold corner of the table--Though

I have a mortgage upon the house and furniture, and arrears due of the

whole interest. It's a pleasure though to be well dressed. My daughter

maintains all fashions are founded in sense----Icod the tightness

of my wig, and the stiffness of my cape, give me the sense of the

pillory--Plaguy scanty about the hips too--And the breast something of

a merrythought reversed--But there is some sense in that, for if one

sex pares away in proportion where the other swells, we shall take up

no more room in the world than we did before.

_Enter a SERVANT._

_Serv._ Sir, Miss Alscrip wishes to see you.

_Alscrip._ Who is with her?

_Serv._ Only Mrs. Blandish, sir.

_Alscrip._ She must content herself with that company, till I have had

my whet----Order up the eggs and bacon.

[_Exit._

SCENE III.

_MISS ALSCRIP discovered at her Toilet. CHIGNON, [her Valet de

Chambre,] dressing her Head. MRS. BLANDISH sitting by, and holding

a Box of Diamond Pins._

_Miss Als._ And so, Blandish, you really think that the introduction of

Otahaite feathers in my trimming succeeded?

_Mrs. Blandish._ Oh, with the mixture of those charming Italian

flowers, and the knots of pearl that gathered up the festoons, never

any thing had so happy an effect----It put the whole ball-room out of

humour. Monsieur Chignon, that pin a little more to the front.

_Miss Als._ And what did they say?

_Mrs. Blandish._ You know it is the first solicitude of my life to see

the friend of my heart treated with justice. So when you stood up to

dance, I got into the thick of the circle----Monsieur, don't you think

this large diamond would be well placed just in the middle?

_Chignon._ Eh! non, madame; ce ne releve pas----Dat give no relief to

de weight of de curl----Full in de front un gros bouton, von great nob

of diamond! pardie ce seroit un accommodage a la Polypheme; de big

eye of de geant in de centre of de forehead.

_Miss Als._ Chignon is right in point of taste, though not quite so

happy in his allusions as he is sometimes.

_Chignon._ Ah! Madame, you have done von grande injure to my contree:

You go for von monthe, and bring avay all de good taste----At

Paris----all von side----de diamond--de cap--de glance--de bon mot

meme--All von side, nothing direct a Paris.

_Miss Als._ [_Smiling at CHIGNON, and then turning to MRS. BLANDISH._]

Well!----And so----

_Mrs. Blandish._ So it was all admiration! Elegant, says Lady Spite--it

may do very well for Miss Alscrip, who never looks at expense. The

dress of a bridal princess! cries Mrs. Scanty, and for one night's wear

too!

_Miss Als._ Delightful! the very language I wished for----Oh, how

charmingly apropos was my accident! did you see when my trimming in the

passe-pied of a cotilion came luckily in contact with Billy Skim's

great shoe-buckle--How it ripped away?

_Mrs. Blandish._ Did I see it?

_Miss Als._ One of the great feathers stuck fast on the shoe, and

looked for all the world like the heel wing of a Mercury in a pantomime.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Oh! you witty creature, how you describe!

_Miss Als._ It was a most becoming rent!

_Mrs. Blandish._ And what a display of indifference; what an example

for a woman of fortune, did you exhibit in the bustle of picking up the

scattered fragments!

_Miss Als._ When the pearls were trundling about, and I insisted upon

the company being no longer disturbed, but would leave what remained

for fairy favours to the maid who swept the room. He! he! he! Do you

think Lady Emily would have done that better?

_Mrs. Blandish._ Lady Emily? poor girl!--How soon must she submit to be

the humble second of the family.

_Miss Als._ He! he! he! Do you sincerely think so, Blandish? And yet it

would be strange if it were otherwise, for I could buy her ten times

over.

_Chignon._ Madame, vat humeure vould you wear to-day?

_Miss Als._ Humour, Chignon? What am I dressed for now?

_Chignon._ The parfaite aimable, madam: but my bringing de point of de

hair more down to de eye-brow, or adding a little blowse to de sides,

I can give you de look severe, capricieuse--vat you please.

_Miss Als._ We'll put it off for half an hour, I am not quite decided.

I was in the capricieuse yesterday--I believe I shall keep on the

perfect amiable. [_Exit CHIGNON._] Tiffany, take off my powdering

gown----Ah! ho!----How the wench tugs--do you think you are pulling

off the coachman's greatcoat?

_Mrs. Blandish._ My dear amiable!--do not let that sweet temper be

ruffled--Why will you not employ me in these little offices. Delicacy

like yours should be waited upon by the softness of a sylph.

[_During this Speech exit TIFFANY peevishly._

_Miss Als._ I am promised a creature to be about me out of the common

way.

_Mrs. Blandish._ A new woman?

_Miss Als._ No; something to be raised much higher, and at the same time

fitted better to receive one's ill-humour. An humble companion, well

born, well educated, and perfectly dependent, is a most useful

appurtenance in the best families.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Well, do not raise her to the rank of a friend, lest I

should be jealous.

_Miss Als._ You may be perfectly secure--I shall take particular care

that friendship shall be out of the question on both sides. I had once

thought of a restoration of pages to sit in scarlet and silver (as one

reads in former times) upon the forepart of the coach, and to hold up

one's train--but I have a new male attendant in a valet de chambre, who

has possession of my bust--My two women will have the charge from the

point of the shoulder to the toe--So my person being provided for--the

Countess of Gayville shall have an attendant to wait upon her mind.

_Mrs. Blandish._ I vow a most elegant and uncommon thought.

_Miss Als._ One that can pen a note in the familiar, the punctilious,

or the witty--It's quite troublesome to be always writing wit for one's

self--But above all, she is to have a talent for music.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Ay, your very soul is framed for harmony.

_Miss Als._ I have not quite determined what to call her--Governante of

the private chamber, keeper of the boudoir, with a silver key at her

breast----

_Enter CHIGNON._

_Chignon._ Madame, a young lady beg to know if you be visible.

_Miss Als._ A young lady--It is not Lady Emily Gayville?

_Chignon._ Non, madam, but if you were absente, and I had the adjustment

of her head, she would be the most charmante personne I did ever see.

_Miss Als._ Introduce her. [_Exit CHIGNON._] Who can this be?

_Mrs. Blandish._ Some woman of taste, to inquire your correspondent at

Paris--or--

_Enter MISS ALTON._

_MISS ALSCRIP courtesying respectfully; MISS ALTON retiring disconcerted._

_Miss Als._ Of taste indeed, by her appearance!--Who's in the

antichamber? Why did they not open the folding doors?--Chignon,

approach a fauteuil for the lady.

_Miss Alton._ Madam, I come!--

_Miss Als._ Madam, pray be seated--

_Miss Alton._ Excuse me, madam,--

_Miss Als._ Madam, I must beg--

_Miss Alton._ Madam, this letter will inform you how little pretension

I have to the honours you are offering.

_Miss Als._ [Reads.] _Miss Alton, the bearer of this, is the person

I recommended as worthy the honour of attending you as a companion._

[Eyes her scornfully.] _She is born a gentlewoman; I dare say her

talents and good qualities will speak more in her favour, than any

words I could use--I am, Madam, your most obedient_--um--um--. Blandish,

was there ever such a mistake?

_Mrs. Blandish._ Oh! you dear, giddy, absent creature, what could you

be thinking of?

_Miss Als._ Absent indeed. Chignon, give me the fauteuil; [_Throws

herself into it._] Young woman, where were you educated?

_Miss Alton._ Chiefly, madam, with my parents.

_Miss Als._ But finished, I take it for granted, at a country boarding

school; for we have, _young ladies_, you know Blandish, _boarded and

educated_, upon blue boards, in gold letters, in every village; with a

strolling player for a dancing master, and a deserter from Dunkirk, to

teach the French grammar.

_Mrs. Blandish._ How that genius of yours does paint! nothing escapes

you--I dare say you have anticipated this young lady's story.

_Miss Alton._ It is very true, madam, my life can afford nothing to

interest the curiosity of you two ladies; it has been too insignificant

to merit your concern, and attended with no circumstances to excite

your pleasantry.

_Miss Als._ [_Yawning._] I hope, child, it will be attended with such

for the future as will add to your own--I cannot bear a mope about

me.--I am told you have a talent for music--can you touch that harp--It

stands here as a piece of furniture, but I have a notion it is kept in

tune, by the man who comes to wind up my clocks.

_Miss Alton._ Madam, I dare not disobey you. But I have been used to

perform before a most partial audience; I am afraid strangers will

think my talent too humble to be worthy attention.

SONG.

_For tenderness framed in life's earliest day,_

_A parent's soft sorrows to mine led the way;_

_The lesson of pity was caught from her eye,_

_And ere words were my own, I spoke in a sigh._

_The nightingale plunder'd, the mate-widow'd dove,_

_The warbled complaint of the suffering grove,_

_To youth as it ripened gave sentiment new,_

_The object still changing, the sympathy true._

_Soft embers of passion yet rest in the glow--_

_A warmth of more pain may this breast never know!_

_Or if too indulgent the blessing I claim,_

_Let reason awaken, and govern the flame._

_Miss Als._ I declare not amiss, Blandish: only a little too

plaintive--but I dare say she can play a country dance, when the

enlivening is required--So, Miss Alton, you are welcome to my

protection; and indeed I wish you to stay from this hour. My toilet

being nearly finished, I shall have a horrid vacation till dinner.

_Miss Alton._ Madam, you do me great honour, and I very readily obey

you.

_Mrs. Blandish._ I wish you joy, Miss Alton, of the most enviable

situation a young person of elegant talents could be raised to. You and

I will vie with each other, to prevent our dear countess ever knowing

a melancholy hour. She has but one fault to correct--the giving way to

the soft effusions of a too tender heart.

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ Madam, a letter----

_Miss Als._ It's big enough for a state packet--Oh! mercy, a

petition--for Heaven's sake, Miss Alton, look it over. [_MISS ALTON

reads._] I should as soon read one of Lady Newchapel's methodist

sermons--What does it contain?

_Miss Alton._ Madam, an uncommon series of calamities, which prudence

could neither see, nor prevent: the reverse of a whole family from

affluence and content to misery and imprisonment; and it adds, that the

parties have the honour, remotely, to be allied to you.

_Miss Als._ Remote relations! ay, they always think one's made of money.

_Enter another SERVANT._

_2 Serv._ A messenger, madam, from the animal repository, with the only

puppy of the Peruvians, and the refusal at twenty guineas.

_Miss Als._ Twenty guineas! Were he to ask fifty, I must have him.

_Mrs. Blandish._ [_Offering to run out._] I vow I'll give him the first

kiss.

_Miss Als._ [_Stopping her._] I'll swear you shan't.

_Miss Alton._ Madam, I was just finishing the petition.

_Miss Als._ It's throwing money away--But give him a crown.

[_Exit with MRS. BLANDISH striving which shall be first._

_Miss Alton._ "The soft effusions of a too tender heart." The proof

is excellent. That the covetous should be deaf to the miserable, I can

conceive; but I should not have believed, if I had not seen, that a

taste for profusion did not find its first indulgence in benevolence.

[_Exit._

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

_MISS ALSCRIP's Dressing-room._

_MISS ALTON, discovered._

_Miss Alton._ Thanks to Mrs. Blandish's inexhaustible talent for

encomium, I shall be relieved from one part of a companion that my

nature revolts at. But who comes here? It's well if I shall not be

exposed to impertinences I was not aware of.

_Enter CHIGNON._

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Ma foi, la voila--I will lose no time to pay my

addresse--Now for de humble maniere, and de unperplex assurance of my

contree [_Bowing with a French shrug.--MISS ALTON turning over Music

Books._] Mademoiselle, est-il permis? may I presume to offer you my

profound homage [_MISS ALTON not taking Notice._] Mademoiselle--if you

vill put your head into my hands, I vill give a distinction to your

beauty, that shall make you and me de conversation of all de town.

_Miss Alton._ I request, Mr. Chignon, you will devote your ambition to

your own part of the compliment.

_Mr. Als._ [_Without._] Where is my daughter?

_Miss Alton._ Is that Mr. Alscrip's voice, Mr. Chignon? It's awkward

for me to meet him before I'm introduced.

_Chignon._ Keep a little behind, mademoiselle; he vill only pashe de

room--He vill not see through me.

_Enter ALSCRIP._

_Alscrip._ Hah, my daughter gone already, but [_Sees CHIGNON._] there's

a new specimen of foreign vermin--A lady's valet de chambre--Taste for

ever!--Now if I was to give the charge of my person to a waiting maid,

they'd say I was indelicate. [_As he crosses the Stage, CHIGNON keeps

sideling to intercept his Sight, and bowing as he looks towards him._]

What the devil is mounseer at? I thought all his agility lay in his

fingers: what antics is the monkey practising? He twists and doubles

himself as if he had a raree-show at his back.

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Be gar no raree-show for you, monsieur Alscrip,

if I can help.

_Alscrip._ [_Spying MISS ALTON._] Ah! ah! What have we got there?

Monsieur, who is that?

_Chignon._ Sir, my lady wish to speak to you in her boudoir. She sent

me to conduct you, sir.

_Alscrip._ [_Imitating._] Yes, sir, but I will first conduct myself to

this lady--Tell me this minute, who she is?

_Chignon._ Sir, she come to live here, companion to my lady--Mademoiselle

study some musique--she must not be disturbed.

_Alscrip._ Get about your business, monsieur, or I'll disturb every

comb in your head--Go tell my daughter to stay till I come to her. I

shall give her companion some cautions against saucy Frenchmen, sirrah!

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Cautions! peste! you are subject a' cautions

yourself--I suspecte you to be von old rake, but no ver dangerous rival.

[_Exit._

_Alscrip._ [_To himself, and looking at her with his Glass._] The

devil is never tired of throwing baits in my way. [_She comes forward

modestly._] By all that's delicious! I must be better acquainted with

her. [_He bows. She courtesies, the Music Book still in her Hand._]

But how to begin--My usual way of attacking my daughter's maids will

never do.

_Miss Alton._ [_Aside._] My situation is very embarrassing.

_Alscrip._ Beauteous stranger, give me leave to add my welcome to my

daughter's. Since Alscrip House was established, she never brought any

thing into it to please me before.

_Miss Alton._ [_A little confused._] Sir, it is a great additional

honour to that Miss Alscrip has done me, to be thought worthy so

respectable a protection as yours.

_Alscrip._ I could furnish you with a better word than respectable.

It sounds so distant, and my feelings have so little to do with cold

respect--I never had such a desire--to make myself agreeable.

_Miss Alton._ [_Aside._] A very strange old man. [_To him, more

confused._] Sir, you'll pardon me, I believe Miss Alscrip is waiting.

_Alscrip._ Don't be afraid, my dear, enchanting diffident (zounds, what

a flutter am I in!) don't be afraid--my disposition, to be sure, is too

susceptible; but then it is likewise so dove-like, so tender, and so

innocent. Come, play me that tune, and enchant my ear, as you have done

my eye.

_Miss Alton._ Sir, I wish to be excused, indeed it does not deserve

your attention.

_Alscrip._ Not deserve it! I had rather hear you, than all the

signoritininies together.--These are the strings to which my senses

shall dance.

[_Sets the Harp._

_Miss Alton._ Sir, it is to avoid the affectation of refusing what is

so little worth asking for.

[_Takes the Harp and plays a Few Bars of a lively Air.

ALSCRIP kisses her Fingers with rapture._

_Alscrip._ Oh! the sweet little twiddle-diddles!

_Miss Alton._ For shame, sir, what do you mean?

[_ALSCRIP gets hold of both her Hands and continues

kissing her Fingers._

_Miss Alton._ [_Struggling._] Help!

_Enter Miss ALSCRIP._

_Miss Als._ I wonder what my papa is doing all this time?

[_A short Pause--MISS ALSCRIP surprised.--MISS ALTON confused.--ALSCRIP

puts his Hand to his Eye._

_Alscrip._ Oh, child! I have got something in my eye, that makes me

almost mad.--A little midge--believe.--'Gad, I caught hold of this

young lady's hand in one of my twitches, and her nerves were as much in

a flutter as if I had bit her.

_Miss Als._ [_Significantly._] Yes, my dear papa, I perceive you have

something in your eye, and I'll do my best to take it out

immediately----Miss Alton, will you do me the favour to walk into the

drawing room?

_Miss Alton._ I hope, madam, you will permit me, at a proper

opportunity, to give my explanation of what has passed?

[_Retires._

_Miss Als._ There's no occasion--Let it rest among the catalogue of

wonders, like the Glastonbury thorn, that blooms at Christmas.----To be

serious, papa, though I carried off your behaviour as well as I could,

I am really shocked at it--A man of your years, and of a profession

where the opinion of the world is of such consequence--

_Alscrip._ My dear Molly, have not I quitted the practice of attorney,

and turned fine gentleman, to laugh at the world's opinion; or, had I

not, do you suppose the kiss of a pretty wench would hurt a lawyer? My

dear Molly, if the fraternity had no other reflections to be afraid of!

_Miss Als._ Oh! hideous, Molly indeed! you ought to have forgot I had a

christened name long ago; am not I going to be a countess? If you did

not stint my fortune, by squand'ring yours away upon dirty trulls, I

might be called your grace.

_Alscrip._ Spare your lectures, and you shall be called your highness,

if you please.

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ Madam, Lady Emily Gayville is in her carriage in the street,

will your ladyship be at home?

_Miss Als._ Yes, show her into the drawing room. [_Exit SERVANT._]

I entreat, sir, you will keep a little more guard upon your passions;

consider the dignity of your house, and if you must be cooing, buy a

French figurante.

[_Exit._

_Alscrip._ Well said, my lady countess! well said, quality morals! What

am I the better for burying a jealous wife? To be chicken pecked is a

new persecution, more provoking than the old one--Oh Molly! Molly!--

[_Exit._

SCENE II.

_The Drawing Room._

_MISS ALTON, alone._

_Miss Alton._ What perplexing scenes I already meet with in this house?

I ought, however, to be contented in the security it affords against

the attempts of Heartly. I am contented--But, O Clifford! It was hard

to be left alone to the choice of distresses.

_Enter CHIGNON, introducing LADY EMILY._

_Chignon._ My Lady Emily Gayville--Madame no here! Mademoiselle,

announce, if you please, my lady.

_Lady E._ [_Aside._] Did my ears deceive me? surely I heard the name of

Clifford--and it escaped in an accent!--Pray, sir, who is that?

[_To CHIGNON._

_Chignon._ Mademoiselle Alton, confidante of my lady, and next after me

in her suite.

[_Examines her Head Dress impertinently. MISS ALTON with great modesty

rises and puts her Work together._

_Lady E._ There seems to be considerable difference in the decorum of

her attendants. You need not stay, sir.

_Chignon._ [_As he goes out._] Ma foi, sa tete est passable--her head

may pass.

_Lady E._ [_Aside._] How my heart beats with curiosity! [_MISS ALTON

having disposed her things in her Work Bag, is retiring with a Courtesy._]

Miss Alton, I am in no haste. On the contrary, I think the occasion

fortunate that allows me to begin an acquaintance with a person of so

amiable an appearance. I don't know whether that pert foreigner has led

me into an error--but without being too inquisitive, may I ask if you

make any part of this family?

_Miss Alton._ Madam, I am under Miss Alscrip's protection: I imagine I

am represented as her dependent: I am not ashamed of humble circumstances,

that are not the consequences of indiscretion.

_Lady E._ That with such claims to respect you should be in any

circumstances of humiliation, is a disgrace to the age we live in.

_Miss Alton._ Madam, my humiliation (if such it be) is just. Perhaps

I have been too proud, and my heart required this self-correction.

A life of retired industry might have been more pleasing to me; but

an orphan--a stranger--ignorant and diffident, I preferred my present

situation, as one less exposed to misrepresentation. [_Bell rings._]

I can no longer detain Miss Alscrip from the honour of receiving your

ladyship.

[_A respectful Courtesy, and exit._

_Lady E._ There is something strangely mysterious and affecting in all

this----what delicacy of sentiment--what softness of manners! and how

well do these qualities accord with that sigh for Clifford! she has

been proud--proud of what?--of Clifford's love. It is too plain. But

then to account for her present condition?--He has betrayed and

abandoned her--too plain again, I fear.--She talked too of a

self-corrected heart--take example, Emily, and recall thine from an

object, which it ought more than ever to renounce. But here come the

Alscrip and her friend: lud! lud! lud! how shall I recover my spirits!

I must attempt it, and if I lose my present thoughts in a trial of

extravagance, be it of theirs or my own, it will be a happy expedient.

_Enter MISS ALSCRIP and MRS. BLANDISH._

[_MISS ALSCRIP runs up to LADY EMILY and kisses her Forehead._

_Lady E._ I ask your pardon, madam, for being so awkward, but I confess

I did not expect so elevated a salute.

_Miss Als._ Dear Lady Emily, I had no notion of its not being

universal. In France, the touch of the lips, just between the eyebrows,

has been adopted for years.

_Lady E._ I perfectly acknowledge the propriety of the custom. It is

almost the only spot of the face where the touch would not risk a

confusion of complexions.

_Miss Als._ He! he! he! what a pretty thought!

_Mrs. Blandish._ How I have longed for this day!--Come, let me put an

end to ceremony, and join the hands of the sweetest pair that ever

nature and fortune marked for connexion.

[_Joins their Hands._

_Miss Als._ Thank you, my good Blandish, though I was determined to

break the ice, Lady Emily, in the first place I met you. But you were

not at Lady Dovecourt's last night.

_Lady E._ [_Affectedly._] No, I went home directly from the Opera:

projected the revival of a cap: read a page in the trials of Temper;

went to bed and dreamed I was Belinda in the Rape of the Lock.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Elegant creature!

_Miss Als._ [_Aside._] I must have that air, if I die for it.

[_Imitating._] I too came home early; supped with my old gentleman;

made him explain my marriage articles, dower, and heirs entail; read a

page in a trial of divorce, and dreamed of a rose-colour equipage, with

emblems, of Cupids issuing out of coronets.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Oh, you sweet twins of perfection----what equality

in every thing! I have thought of a name for you--The Inseparable

Inimitables.

_Miss Als._ I declare I shall like it exceedingly--one sees so few

uncopied originals--the thing I cannot bear--

_Lady E._ Is vulgar imitation--I must catch the words from your mouth,

to show you how we agree.

_Miss Als._ Exactly. Not that one wishes to be without affectation.

_Lady E._ Oh! mercy forbid!

_Miss Als._ But to catch a manner, and weave it, as I may say, into

one's own originality.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Pretty! pretty!

_Lady E._ That's the art--Lord, if one lived entirely upon one's own

whims, who would not be run out in a twelvemonth?

_Miss Als._ Dear Lady Emily, don't you dote upon folly?

_Lady E._ To ecstacy. I only despair of seeing it well kept up.

_Miss Als._ I flatter myself there is no great danger of that.

_Lady E._ You are mistaken. We have, 'tis true, some examples of the

extravaganza in high life, that no other country can match; but withal,

many a false sister, that starts as one would think, in the very heyday

of the fantastic, yet comes to a stand-still in the midst of the course.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Poor, spiritless creatures!

_Lady E._ Do you know there is more than one duchess who has been seen

in the same carriage with her husband--like two doves in a basket, in

the print of Conjugal Felicity; and another has been detected--I almost

blush to name it--

_Mrs. Blandish._ Bless us! where? and how? and how?

_Lady E._ In nursing her own child!

_Miss Als._ Oh! barbarism!----For heaven's sake let us change the

subject. You were mentioning a revived cap, Lady Emily; any thing of

the Henry Quatre?

_Lady E._ Quite different. An English mob under the chin, and artless

ringlets, in natural colour, that shall restore an admiration for

Prior's Nut-brown Maid.

_Miss Als._ Horrid! shocking!

_Lady E._ Absolutely necessary. To be different from the rest of the

world, we must now revert to nature: Make haste, or you have so much to

undo, you will be left behind.

_Miss Als._ I dare say so. But who can vulgarize all at once? What will

the French say?

_Lady E._ Oh, we shall have a new treaty for the interchange of

fashions and follies, and then say, they will complain, as they do of

other treaties, that we out manufactured them.

_Miss Als._ Fashions and follies! O what a charming contention!

_Lady E._ Yes, and one, thank Heaven, so perfectly well understood on

both sides, that no counter declaration will be wanted to explain it.

_Miss Als._ [_With an affected drop of her Lip in her Laugh._] He! he!

he! he! he! he!

_Lady E._ My dear Miss Alscrip, what are you doing? I must correct you

as I love you. Sure you must have observed the drop of the under lip

is exploded since Lady Simpermode broke a tooth--[_Sets her Mouth

affectedly._]--I am preparing the cast of the lips for the ensuing

winter----thus--It is to be called the Paphian mimp.

_Miss Als._ [_Imitating._] I swear I think it pretty--I must try to get

it.

_Lady E._ Nothing so easy. It is done by one cabalistical word, like

a metamorphosis in the fairy tales. You have only, when before your

glass, to keep pronouncing to yourself nimini-pimini--the lips cannot

fail taking their plie.

_Miss Als._ Nimini--pimini--imini, mimini--oh, it's delightfully

infantine--and so innocent, to be kissing one's own lips.

_Lady E._ You have it to a charm--does it not become her infinitely,

Mrs. Blandish?

_Mrs. Blandish._ Our friend's features must succeed in every grace! but

never so much as in a quick change of extremes.

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ Madam, Lord Gayville desires to know if you are at home?

_Miss Als._ A strange formality!

_Lady E._ [_Aside._] No brother ever came more opportunely to a

sister's relief, "I have fooled it to the top of my bent."

_Miss Als._ Desire Miss Alton to come to me. [_Exit SERVANT._] Lady

Emily, you must not blame me; I am supporting the cause of our sex,

and must punish a lover for some late inattentions--I shall not

see him.

_Lady E._ Oh cruel!

[_Sees MISS ALTON._

_Enter MISS ALTON._

Miss Alscrip, you have certainly the most elegant companion in the

world.

_Miss Als._ Dear, do you think so? an ungain, dull sort of a body, in

my mind; but we'll try her in the present business. Miss Alton, you

must do me a favour.--I want to plague my husband that is to be--you

must take my part--you must double me like a second actress at Paris,

when the first has the vapours.

_Miss Alton._ Really, madam, the task you would impose upon me--

_Miss Als._ Will be a great improvement to you, and quite right for

me.--Don't be grave, Lady Emily--[_Whose attention is fixed on MISS

ALTON._] Your brother's penance shall be short, and I'll take the

reconciliation scene upon myself.

_Lady E._ [_Endeavouring to recover herself._] I cannot but pity him;

especially as I am sure, that do what you will, he will always regard

you with the same eyes. And so, my sweet sister, I leave him to your

mercy, and to that of your representative, whose disposition, if I have

any judgment, is ill suited to a task of severity.

_Mrs. Blandish._ Dear Lady Emily, carry me away with you. When a lover

is coming, it shall never be said I am in the way.

_Lady E._ [_Looking at MISS ALTON.--Aside._] What a painful suspense

am I to suffer? another instant, and I shall betray myself--adieu, Miss

Alscrip.

_Miss Als._ Call Lady Emily's servants.

_Lady E._ You sha'n't stir--remember nimini primini. I am at your orders.

[_Exit._

_Mrs. Blandish._ I follow you, my sweet volatile. [_Coming back, and

squeezing MISS ALSCRIP's Hand, in a half whisper._] She'd give her eyes,

to be like you.

[_Exit._

_Miss Als._ Now for it, Miss Alton--Only remember that you are doubling

me, the woman he adores.

_Miss Alton._ Indeed, madam, I am quite incapable of executing your

orders to your satisfaction. The utmost I can undertake is a short

message.

_Miss Als._ Never fear. [_Knock at the Door._] There he comes--Step

aside, and I'll give you your very words.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter LORD GAYVILLE, conducted by a SERVANT._

_Lord G._ So, now to get thorough this piece of drudgery. There's a

meanness in my proceeding, and my compunction is just. Oh, the dear,

lost possessor of my heart; lost, irrecoverably lost!

_Enter MISS ALTON, from the Bottom of the Scene._

_Miss Alton._ A pretty employment I am sent upon!

_Lord G._ [_To himself._] Could she but know the sacrifice I am ready

to make!

_Miss Alton._ [_To herself._] The very picture of a lover, if absence

of mind marks one. It is unpleasant for me to interrupt a man I never

saw, but I shall deliver my message very concisely.--My lord----

_Lord G._ [_Turning._] Madam. [_Both start and stand in surprise._]

Astonishment! Miss Alton! my charming fugitive?

_Miss Alton._ How, Mr. Heartly--Lord Gayville!

_Lord G._ My joy and my surprise are alike unutterable. But I conjure

you, madam, tell me by what strange circumstance do I meet you here?

_Miss Alton._ [_Aside._] Now assist me, honest pride! assist me,

resentment.

_Lord G._ You spoke to me--Did you know me?

_Miss Alton._ No otherwise, my lord, than as Miss Alscrip's lover.

I had a message from her to your lordship.

_Lord G._ For Heaven's sake, madam, in what capacity?

_Miss Alton._ In one, my lord, not very much above the class of a

servant.

_Lord G._ Impossible, sure! It is to place the brilliant below the

foil--to make the inimitable work of nature secondary to art and defect.

_Miss Alton._ It is to take refuge in a situation that offers me

security against suspicious obligation; against vile design; against

the attempts of a seducer--It is to exercise the patience, that the

will, and perhaps the favour, of Heaven meant to try.

_Lord G._ Cruel, cruel to yourself and me--Could I have had a happiness

like that of assisting you against the injustice of fortune--and when

to be thus degraded was the alternative?--

_Miss Alton._ My lord, it is fit I should be explicit. Reflect upon the

language you have held to me; view the character in which you present

yourself to this family; and then pronounce in whose breast we must

look for a sense of degradation.

_Lord G._ In mine, and mine alone. I confess it--Hear nevertheless my

defence--My actions are all the result of love. And culpable as I may

seem, my conscience does not reproach me with----

_Miss Alton._ Oh, my lord, I readily believe you--You are above its

reproaches--qualities, that are infamous and fatal, in one class of

life, create applause and conscientious satisfaction in another.

_Lord G._ Infamous and fatal qualities! What means my lovely accuser?

_Miss Alton._ That to steal or stab is death in common life: but when

one of your lordship's degree sets his hard heart upon the destruction

of a woman, how glorious is his success! How consummate his triumph,

when he can follow the theft of her affections by the murder of her

honour.

_Enter MISS ALSCRIP softly behind._

_Miss Als._ I wonder how it goes on.

_Lord G._ Exalted! Adorable woman!

_Miss Als._ Adorable! Ay, I thought how 'twould be!

_Lord G._ Hear me! I conjure you--

_Miss Als._ Not a word, if she knows her business.

_Miss Alton._ My lord! I have heard too much.

_Miss Als._ Brava. I could not have played it better myself.

_Lord G._ Oh! Still more charming than severe.

[_Kneels._

_Miss Als._ Humph! I hope he means me, though.

_Lord G._ The character in which you see me here makes me appear more

odious to myself, if possible, than I am to you.

_Miss Als._ [_Behind._] By all that's treacherous I doubt it.

_Miss Alton._ Desist, my lord----Miss Alscrip has a claim.----

_Miss Als._ Ay, now for it.

_Lord G._ By Heaven, she is my aversion. It is my family, on whom I am

dependent, that has betrayed me into these cursed addresses.--Accept my

contrition--pity a wretch struggling with the complicated torments of

passion, shame, penitence and despair.

_Miss Als._ [_Comes forward--all stand confused._] I never saw a part

better doubled in my life!

_Lord G._ Confusion! What a light do I appear in to them both! How

shall I redeem myself, even in my own opinion?

_Miss Als._ [_Looking at LORD GAYVILLE._] Expressive dignity!--[_Looking

at MISS ALTON._] Sweet simplicity! Amiable diffidence!----"She should

execute my commands most awkwardly."

_Lord G._ [_Aside._] There is but one way.--[_To MISS ALSCRIP._] Madam,

your sudden entrance has effected a discovery which with shame I confess

ought to have been made before--The lady, who stands there, is in

possession of my heart. If it is a crime to adore her, I am the most

guilty wretch on earth--Pardon me if you can; my sincerity is painful

to me--But in this crisis it is the only atonement I can offer.

[_Bows and exit._

_Miss Als._ [_After a Pause._] Admirable!--Perfect! The most finished

declaration, I am convinced, that ever was made from beggarly nobility

to the woman that was to make his fortune--the lady, who stands

there--the lady--Madam--I am in patient expectation for the sincerity

of your ladyship's atonement.

_Miss Alton._ I am confounded at the strange occurrences that have

happened; but be assured you see in me an innocent and most unwilling

rival.

_Miss Als._ Rival! better and better!--You--you give me uneasiness? You

moppet--you coquet of the side table to catch the gawkey heir of the

family, when he comes from school at Christmas--You--you you vile

seducer of my good old honoured father; [_Cries--In a passion again._]

What, is my lady dumb? Hussy? Have you the insolence to hold your

tongue?

_Miss Alton._ Madam, I just now offered to justify this scene; I

thought it the part of duty to myself, and respect to you. But your

behaviour has now left but one sentiment upon my mind.

_Miss Als._ And what is that, madam?

_Miss Alton._ [_With pointed expression._] Scorn.

[_Exit._

_Miss Als._ Was there ever any thing like this before?--and to a woman

of my fortune?--I to be robbed of a lover--and that a poor lord

too--I'll have the act revived against witchcraft; I'll have the minx

tried--I'll--I'll--I'll----

[_Exit._

SCENE III.

_ALSCRIP's Room of Business._

_ALSCRIP and RIGHTLY._

_Rightly._ Upon all these matters, Mr. Alscrip, I am authorized by my

client, Sir Clement Flint, to agree. There remains nothing but your

favouring me with the inspection of the Charlton title-deeds, and your

daughter's settlements may be engrossed.

_Alscrip._ I cannot conceive, my friend Rightly, any such inspection to

be requisite. Have not I been in constant quiet possession?

_Rightly._ Sir Clement insists upon it.

_Alscrip._ A client insist! and you, an old practitioner, suffer such a

demur to your infallibility!--Ah! in my practice I had the sure means

of disappointing such dabblers and divers into their own cases.

_Rightly._ How, pray?

_Alscrip._ I read his writings to him myself.--I was the best reader in

Chancery-lane for setting the understanding at defiance--Drew breath

but once in a quarter of an hour, always in the wrong place, and made a

single sentence of six skins of parchment--Shall I give you a specimen?

_Rightly._ [_Smiling._] I have no doubt of your talent.

_Alscrip._ Then return to Sir Clement, and follow my example.

_Rightly._ No, Mr. Alscrip, though I acknowledge your skill, I do not

subscribe to your doctrine. The English law is the finest system of

ethics, as well as government, that ever the world produced, and it

cannot be too generally understood.

_Alscrip._ Law understood! Zounds! would you destroy the profession!

_Rightly._ No, I would raise it. Had every man of sense the knowledge

of the theory, to which he is competent; the practice would revert to

the purity of its institution, maintain the rights, and not promote the

knavery, of mankind.

_Alscrip._ [_Aside._] Plaguy odd maxims.--Sure he means to try me--[_To

him._] Brother Rightly, we know the world and are alone--I have locked

the door.

[_In a half whisper._

_Rightly._ A very useless precaution. I have not a principle nor a

proceeding that I would not proclaim at Charing Cross.

_Alscrip._ [_Aside._] No! then I'll pronounce you the most silly, or

the most impudent fellow of the fraternity.

_Rightly._ But where are these writings? You can have no difficulty

in laying your hand upon them, for I perceive you keep things in a

distinguished regularity.

_Alscrip._ Yes, I have distinct repositories for all papers, and

especially title deeds--Some in drawers--Some in closets--[_Aside._]

and a few under ground.

_Miss Als._ [_Rattling at the Door._] What makes you lock the door,

sir? I must speak to you this instant.

_Alscrip._ One moment, child, and I'll be ready for you.

[_Turning again to RIGHTLY, as to dissuade him._

_Rightly._ [_Coolly._] If the thoughts of the wedding-day make any part

of the young lady's impatience, you take a bad way, Mr. Alscrip, to

satisfy it; for I tell you plainly our business cannot be completed

till I see these writings.

_Alscrip._ [_Aside._] Confound the old hound--how he sticks to his

scent!

[_MISS ALSCRIP still at the Door._

_Alscrip._ I am coming, I tell you. [_Opens a Bureau in a confused

hurry, shuffles Papers about, puts one into RIGHTLY's Hand._] There,

if this whim must be indulged, step into the next room--You, who know

the material parts of a parchment lie in a nutshell, will look it over

in ten minutes.

[_Puts him into another Room._

_Miss Als._ I won't wait another instant, whatever you are about--Let

me in----

_Alscrip._ [_Opening the Door._] Sex and vehemence! What is the matter

now?

_Enter MISS ALSCRIP in the most violent emotion._

_Miss Als._ So, sir; yes, sir; you have done finely by me indeed, you

are a pattern for fathers--a precious match you had provided!

[_Walking about._

_Alscrip._ What the devil's the matter?

_Miss Als._ [_Running on._] I, that with 50,000 independent pounds,

left myself in a father's hands--a thing unheard of, and waited for

a husband with unparalleled patience till I was of age----

_Alscrip._ What the devil's the matter?

_Miss Als._ [_Following him about._] I, that at fourteen might have

married a French Marquis, my governess told me he was--for all he was

her brother----

_Alscrip._ 'Gad a mercy, governess----

_Miss Als._ And as for commoners, had not I the choice of the market?

And the handsome Irish Colonel at Bath, that had carried off six

heiresses before, for himself and friends, and would have found his way

to Gretna-green blindfold!

_Alscrip._ [_Aside._] 'Gad I wish you were there now, with all my

heart--What the devil is at the bottom of all this?

_Miss Als._ Why, Lord Gayville is at the bottom--And your hussy, that

you was so sweet upon this rooming, is at the bottom; a treacherous

minx!--I sent her only for a little innocent diversion, as my double----

_Alscrip._ Your what?

_Miss Als._ Why, my double, to vex him.

_Alscrip._ Double! this is the most useless attendant you have had

yet.--'Gad I'll start you single handed in the art of vexation against

any ten women in England!

_Miss Als._ I caught them, just as I did you, with your----

_Alscrip._ Is that all? 'Gad I don't see much in that.

_Miss Als._ Not much? what, a woman of my fortune and accomplishments

turned off--rejected--renounced----

_Alscrip._ How! renounced?--has he broke the contract?----Will you

prove he has broke the contract?

_Miss Als._ Ay. Now, my dear papa, you take a tone that becomes you;

now the blood of the Alscrips rises;--rises as it ought; you mean to

fight him directly, don't you?

_Alscrip._ O yes, I'm his man--I'll show you a lawyer's challenge,

sticks and staves, guns, swords, daggers, poinards, knives, scissors

and bodkins. I'll put more weapons into a bit of paper, six inches

square, than would stock the armory of the Tower.

_Miss Als._ Pistols!----Don't talk to me of any thing but pistols,--my

dear papa, who shall be your second?

_Alscrip._ I'll have two----John Doe, and Richard Roe----as pretty

fellows as any in England to see fair play, and as used to the

differences of good company.--They shall greet him with their fieri

facias----so don't be cast down, Molly, I'll answer for damages, to

indemnify our loss of temper and reputation--he shall have a fi-fa

before to-morrow night.

_Miss Als._ Fiery faces and damages--What does your Westminster-hall

gibberish mean?--Are a woman's feelings to be satisfied with a

fie-fa--you old insensible--you have no sense of family honour--no

tender affections.

_Alscrip._ 'Gad you have enough for us both, when you want your father

to be shot through the head--but stand out of the way, here's a species

of family honour more necessary to be taken care of--If we were to go

to law, this would be a precious set off against us. [_Takes up the

Deed, as if to lock it up._] This--why what the devil--I hope I don't

see clear--Curse and confusion, I have given the wrong one--Here's fine

work--Here's a blunder--Here's the effect of a woman's impetuosity.

_Miss Als._ Lord, what a fuss you are in: what is in the old trumpery

scroll?

_Alscrip._ Plague and parchment, old Rightly will find what's in it, if

I don't interrupt him--Mr. Rightly--Mr. Rightly--Mr. Rightly----

[_Going to the Door RIGHTLY went out at._

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ Sir, Mr. Rightly is gone.

_Alscrip._ Gone! whither?

_Serv._ Home, I believe, sir----He came out at the door into the hall,

and he bade me tell your honour you might depend upon his reading over

the deed with particular care.

_Alscrip._ Fire and fury, my hat and cane--[_Exit SERVANT._] Here, my

hat and cane.

[_Stamps about._

_Miss Als._ Sir, I expect before you come home--

_Alscrip._ Death and devils, expect to be ruined----this comes of

listening to you----The sex hold the power of mischief by

prescription--Zounds!--Mischief--Mischief--is the common law of

womankind.

[_Exit in a rage._

_Miss Als._ Mercy on us--I never saw him more provoked, even when my

mother was alive!

[_Exit._

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

_ALSCRIP's Room._

_CHIGNON alone._

_Chignon._ Que diable veut dire tout ca----vat devil, all dis

mean?--Monsieur Alscrip enrage----Mademoiselle Alscrip fly about like

de dancing fury at de Opera----My littel musicienne, shut up, and in de

absence of madame, I keep de key of de littel bastille----By gad, I

vou'd rader have de custody of my pretty prisoniere than the whole

college of cardinals----but vat have we here?

_Enter SIR CLEMENT and CLIFFORD._

_Sir C._ [_Speaking to a SERVANT._] Mr. Alscrip not at home, no matter

we'll wait his return----The French valet de chambre [_To CLIFFORD._]--It

may be of use to make acquaintance with him--Monsieur, how do you like

this country?

_Chignon._ Ver good contree, sire, by and bye--when you grow a little

more poor.

_Sir C._ Is that a Parisian rule for improvement?

_Chignon._ Yes, sir, and we help you to follow our example--In good

times you hang, and you drown--In bad time you will be like us.--Alway

poor--alway gay--forget your politics--laugh at your grievances--take

your snuff, vive la dissipation,--ver good country.

_Sir C._ Thanks for your kind advice, monsieur, you Frenchmen are

so obliging, and so communicative to strangers----I hear there is

a young lady come into this family--we don't exactly know in what

capacity--could not you contrive that she should pass through this

room--or--

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] By gar here be one more old rake after de littel

musicienne.

_Sir C._ Only for curiosity,--we never saw her, and have particular

reasons--

[_Gives Money._

_Chignon._ Ma foi, your reasons be ver expressive--[_Aside._]--but vat

devil shall I do--open the cage of my little Rosignol--my pretty

nightingale--no. Chignon--no--[_Looking out._] ah, hah; La

Tiffany----Now for de politique----be-gar I undertake your

business--and make you de dupe of de performance.

[_Exit with a sign to SIR CLEMENT._

_Sir C._ So--Clifford--There goes as disinterested a fellow now as any

in Europe. But hark you--Can you yet guess the purpose for which I

brought you here?

_Cliff._ I profess, sir, I am in the dark. If it concerns Lord

Gayville's secret.

_Sir C._ Namely, that this dulcinea has started up in the shape of Miss

Alscrip's musical companion--Her name is Alton. [_Leering._] I tell it

you, because I am sure you are not acquainted with it.

_Cliff._ Sir, you will not know me.--

_Sir C._ Tut, tut, don't do me such injustice----Come, all delicacy

being over, by my having made the discovery, will you talk to this girl?

_Cliff._ For what end, sir?

_Sir C._ If you state yourself as Lord Gayville's friend, she will

converse with you more readily, than she would with me--Try her--find

out what she is really at. If she has no hold upon him but her person,

I shall be easy.

_Cliff._ Sir, let my compliance convince you how much I wish to oblige

you. If I can get a sight of this wonder, I promise to give you my

faithful opinion of my friend's danger.

_Enter CHIGNON, and makes a sign to SIR CLEMENT, that the Person he

inquired after is coming._

_Sir C._ Leave her with this gentleman----Come, monsieur, you shall

show me the new room.

[_Exit._

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Vid dis gentleman--Vid all my heart--La Tiffany

vill answer his purpose, and mine too.

[_Exit._

[_CLIFFORD is looking at the Furniture of the Room._

_Enter TIFFANY._

_Tiff._ What does the Frenchman mean by gentlemen wanting me, and his

gibberish of making soft eyes----I hope I know the exercise of my eyes

without his instruction--hah! I vow, a clever looking man.

_Cliff._ 'Faith, a pretty attracting countenance--but for that

apprehensive and timid look--that awe impressing modesty, my friend so

forcibly described. [_TIFFANY adjusts herself, and pulls up._]--[_Aside._]

Her silence marks diffidence; deuce take me if I know how to begin, for

fear of offending her reserve.

_Tiff._ [_Aside._] I have been told pertness became me--I'll try, I'm

resolved. [_To him._] I hear, sir, you had something to say to a young

person in this house--that--that--[_Looking down at the same time

archly._] I could not but take the description to myself--I am ready to

hear any thing a gentleman has to say.

_Cliff._ [_Aside._] Thank my stars, my scruples are relieved!

_Tiff._ Am I mistaken, sir? Pray, whom was you inquiring after?

_Cliff._ Oh! certainly you, my pretty stranger. A friend of mine has

been robbed of his heart, and I see the felony in your looks. Will you

confess, or must I arrest you?

_Tiff._ Innocent, sir, in fact, but not quite so in inclination--I hope

your own is safe?

_Cliff._ And were it not, my smart unconscionable, would you run away

with that also?

_Tiff._ Oh, yes, and a hundred more; and melt them all down together,

as the Jews do stolen goods, to prevent their being reclaimed.

_Cliff._ [_Aside._] Astonishing! Have I hit upon the moment when her

fancy outruns her art! But are you really the young lady, that's

admitted into this family, as companion to Miss Alscrip?

_Tiff._ Sir, if you mean the young lady, who, however undeservingly, is

flatteringly called the flower of this family--who sometimes extracts

notice from these windows; and to be sure has been followed home by

gentlemen against her inclinations--sir, you are not mistaken.

_Cliff._ [_Aside._] Sure it has been Gayville's madness or amusement

then to describe her by contraries.

_Tiff._ I hope, sir, you are not offended? I would not be impertinent,

though I am not so tasteless as to be shy.

_Cliff._ Offended, my dear? I am quite charmed, I assure you. And so

without further shyness on either part, let us be free upon the subject

I had to talk over with you. You surely are not looking to lasting

connexions?

_Tiff._ [_With airs._] Sir, I don't understand you--I am not what you

suppose, I assure you--Connexions indeed--I should never have thought

of that--my character--my behaviour; connexions, I don't know what the

word signifies.

_Sir C._ [_Without._] Clifford--are you ready?

_Cliff._ I am at your orders, sir.

_Tiff._ [_Aside._] Deuce take this interruption!

_Sir Clement._ [_Without._] I shall not wait for Mr. Alscrip any longer.

_Tiff._ [_Aside._] Lud, lud, he, gives me no time to come round again.

[_Runs up to him confusedly._] It's very true, sir, I would not do such

a thing for the world, but you are a man of honour, and I am sure would

not give bad advice to a poor girl who is but a novice--and so, sir,

[_Hears SIR CLEMENT entering._] put your proposal in writing, and you

may depend on having an answer.

[_Runs out._

_Enter SIR CLEMENT._

_Sir C._ Well, Clifford, what do you think of her?

_Cliff._ Make yourself perfectly easy, sir: This girl, when known,

can make no impression on Lord Gayville's mind; and I doubt not but a

silk-gown and a lottery-ticket, had they been offered as an ultimatum,

would have purchased her person.

_Sir C._ [_With a dry sneer._] Don't you sometimes Clifford, form

erroneous opinions of people's pretensions? Interest and foolish

passion inspire strange notions--as one or the other prevails, we are

brought to look so low, or so high--

_Cliff._ [_With emotion._] That we are compelled to call reason and

honour to our aid----

_Sir C._ And then----

_Cliff._ We lose the intemperance of our inclinations in the sense of

what is right.

_Sir C._ [_Aside._] Sententious impostor!--[_To him._] But to the point.

_Cliff._ Sir, I would please you if I could--I am thinking of a scheme

to restore Lord Gayville to his senses, without violence or injury to

any one of the parties.

_Sir C._ Let me hear it.

_Cliff._ Why, the wench being cut short of marketing by word of mouth,

desired me to write proposals. I am inclined to do so. We will show the

answer to Lord Gayville, and, depend upon it, there will be character

enough displayed to cure him of the sentimental part of his attachment.

_Sir. C._ I like your idea--Sit down, and put it into execution

immediately----[_CLIFFORD writes._]----[_To himself._] He is quick at

invention--has a pretty turn at profession--A proud and peremptory show

of honour would overpower prejudices. Thank Heaven, my opinions of

knavery are convictions!

_Cliff._ [_Writing._] I am sorry to detain you, sir.

_Sir C._ [_Looking at the Furniture._] Oh! I am amusing myself better

than you think--Indulging an edifying contemplation among the tombs of

departed estates--[_Looking round the Furniture, viz. Closets, that

show old Writings, tied up; Shelves with Boxes, labelled Mortgages,

Lease and Release, &c._] What mouldered skins, that will never see

day-light again, and that, with a good herald, would vie with

Westminster Abbey in holiday entertainment. For instance, now, what

have we here?--Hah! The last remains of Fatland Priory--Once of great

monastic importance: A proverb of pride, sloth, and hypocrisy. After

the Reformation, the seat of old English hospitality and

benevolence--In the present century, altered, adorned, pulled down, and

the materials sold by auction.

_Cliff._ Edifying, indeed, sir; your comments are not lost.

_Sir C._ Here lie, undisturbed, in dust, the relics of Court Baron

Castle, granted, at the Conquest, to the family of Loftimount. The

last of this ancient race, having won twenty-seven king's plates, and

represented the county in six parliaments, after many struggles, died

of the pistol fever. A disconsolate annuitant inscribed this box to his

memory.--Well, Clifford, have you done?

_Cliff._ Yes, sir.

[_Reads, as if to himself._

_You have captivated a young man of rank and fortune, but you are

discovered, and his ruin and yours would be the consequence of pursuing

any designs, that could impede his proposed marriage with Miss

Alscrip.--Throw yourself upon the generosity of his family, and your

fortune's made.--Send your answer (and let it be immediate) to me, at

Sir Clement Flint's house._

_Yours, &c. &c._

HENRY CLIFFORD.

[_CLIFFORD folds the Letter._

_Sir C._ Our French friend is the man to deliver it, and to bring the

answer. I am going home; you'll overtake me.

[_Exit._

_Enter CHIGNON._

_Cliff._ [_Sealing the Letter._] You come apropos, monsieur. [_Gives

the Letter with an Air of Mystery._] Have the goodness to put this

letter into Miss Alton's own hands.

_Chignon._ [_To himself._] Mademoiselle Alton! Peste! My trick has not

passed.

_Cliff._ To Miss Alton by herself--I am in all the secret.

_Chignon._ [_To himself._] Devil take Tiffany, for making you so wise.

_Cliff._ And you serve your lady, when you serve me with Miss

Alton--Monsieur, an answer as quick as possible--You will find me at

Sir Clement Flint's--it is only in the next street--and--you understand

me--[_Shaking his Purse._]--Alerte, monsieur.

[_Exit._

_Chignon._ Understand you!--Oui da! you talk de language universal.

[_Imitating his shaking the Purse._] J'entre vois, I begin to see

something--By gad, I vill give de letter, ami try de inclination of

Mademoiselle la Musicienne--if dis be de duette she vill play, it take

her out of the vay of Alscrip, of Gayville, and of myself also--Voila

le malheur--there--de misfortune--eh bien--when love and interest come

across--alway prefer de interest for to-day, and take de chance of de

love to-morrow--dat is de humour of France.

[_Exit._