Apartment in Drave's House.
Mr. DRAVE writing.--Mrs. DRAVE enters.
_Mrs. D._ Good morning, my dear--you have not come down.
_Mr. D._ [gives her his hand, without looking up]. Good morning.
_Mrs. D._ You are busy.
_Mr. D._ I shall have done in a moment.
_Mrs. D._ I'll leave you.
_Mr. D._ [rising]. It is done now.
_Mrs. D._ You seem angry.
_Mr. D._ No wonder--that man----
_Mrs. D._ Who?
_Mr. D._ My hopeful ward Lewis--as I am not always ready to pay his
debts, he sets the Chancellor upon me.
_Mrs. D._ Again? Very strange.
_Mr. D._ I am continually pestered with applications for the payment.
_Mrs. D._ And you----
_Mr. D._ With all due respect for these applications, I'll not pay.
_Mrs. D._ Very well: but----
_Mr. D._ And now this Chancellor sends me a letter, desiring me to
bring him my accounts, as guardian to Lewis this afternoon that he may
overlook them. I'll not do it. [Takes a letter off the table, and gives
it to Mrs. Drave--walks angrily up and down while she reads it--takes
it back]. What do you think of it?
_Mrs. D._ It is unpleasant--but why send a positive refusal?
_Mr. D._ And why not?
_Mrs. D._ The Chancellor is a very powerful man.
_Mr. D._ I do not fear him.
_Mrs. D._ He takes every opportunity to injure us; his hatred is
implacable. What can you oppose to his base intrigues?
_Mr. D._ My heart, and plain dealing.
_Mrs. D._ Do not offend him so sensibly: rather send the accounts.
_Mr. D._ Never! The very sum he now troubles me for is to pay himself.
He lent it to Lewis, through a third person, upon exorbitant interest.
_Mrs. D._ Base enough. But, I repeat it, he is powerful, and will
revenge himself.
[Mr. D. seals the letter, rings the bell.--Enter
a Servant.]
_Mrs. D._ You will have it so. I wish all may be well.
_Mr. D._ [giving the letter to the Servant]. To the Chancellor's.
[Exit Servant.
_Mrs. D._ Had you only done it in a better manner--You may remember
'twas for your rashness he withdrew the L.4000.
_Mr. D._ For my rashness? Oh, no.--To place it out at higher interest
somewhere else.--At such an unseasonable time too--there again--thus to
undermine good houses, that he may have full scope for his unfair
practices.
_Mrs. D._ It may be so--But in regard to Lewis--I wish your behaviour
were different: it may have such unpleasant consequences--for I must
inform you, he seems to have an attachment to Augusta.
_Mr. D._ [surprised]. So?--and Augusta?
_Mrs. D._ She loves him.
_Mr. D._ Merciful God!
_Mrs. D._ What is it you mean?
_Mr. D._ Too well have I feared--too well have I guessed at such
things. Hence it is that Augusta looks always as if oppressed by
conscious guilt--hence her reserve towards me.--Has not this unhappy
guardianship given me uneasiness enough? Has not my life been
sufficiently embittered? Have I not sacrificed enough of my peace? must
I also sacrifice my only child?
_Mrs. D._ I do not see why.
_Mr. D._ No, no, you do not see--if you did, you would not stand there
so calmly.
_Mrs. D._ And why are you so terrified? That he is lively--sometimes
wild? He is young.
_Mr. D._ Lively? wild? young? No, no.--Immoral, dissolute,
hypocritical; that is the character of Lewis Brook.--And shall he the
husband of my Augusta? When I quit the world, shall I leave to him the
child of my heart? To him? Oh, you have brought me bad news!
_Mrs. D._ You see every thing in such gloomy colours! I agree he is
inconsiderate--_very_ inconsiderate; and certainly while he remains as
he is, I shall not think of marriage: but love will bring him back.
_Mr. D._ What can you hope from such levity?
_Mrs. D._ More than from the insensibility of his brother.
_Mr. D._ Do you speak of my good Philip thus? Oh, had you told me that
she loved _him_--whatever I could spare--my whole fortune--yes, she
should have had it all--Then we had been the happiest of parents.
_Mrs. D._ I see no happiness, in our daughter's being shut up with such
an eternal grumbler.
_Mr. D._ Oh! but his heart is noble!
_Mrs. D._ An inconsiderate mind is better than such sour virtue, if
indeed it deserves the name.
_Mr. D._ I own I am disappointed in both of them.
_Mrs. D._ I fear, my dear Drave, your mode of education has contributed
to make them hate each other.
_Mr. D._ Hate? Philip hate?--Never.----If Lewis does, I am sorry.
_Mrs. D._ He cannot love such sour behaviour--he does not hate--but he
is cold--they have not spoken to each other these three months.
_Mr. D._ We must put an end to this. They must see each other, come to
an explanation, and all will be well. Lewis esteems you--prevail on him
to meet his brother with kindness.
_Mrs. D._ Willingly.--And now concerning Augusta--what will you do?
_Mr. D._ [thoughtfully]. Now I see clearly--now I can account for many
strange things: it is too true--her passion is too deeply rooted to be
overcome. I will never force her inclination--but I must first be
certain that Lewis really loves her.
_Mrs. D._ I hope to satisfy you in that point. His declarations are
sufficiently explicit.
_Mr. D._ Suppose what you tell me to be true, the young Counsellor's
visits must be declined.
_Mrs. D._ Why so?
_Mr. D._ For a thousand reasons. I must beg you to comply with my
wishes in this respect.--The company of a fool can never do any good,
though his impertinences may do mischief.--I have now some engagements
abroad, and cannot speak to Augusta, till after I return. Prepare her
for it--tell her that her happiness is dearer to me than my life--she
is still the child of my heart, and her choice shall be mine.--Adieu.
[Exeunt on different sides.]
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
_ACT II._