Chapter 52

[Exit bawling.

Olivia.Well; I dread, lest an expedition begun in fear should end in repentance.—Every moment we stay increases our danger, and adds to my apprehensions.

Leont.There's no danger, trust me, my dear; there can be none. If Honeywood has acted with honour, and kept my father, as he promised, in employment, till we are out of danger, nothing can interrupt our journey.

Olivia.I have no doubt of Mr. Honeywood's sincerity, and even his desires to serve us. My fears are from your father's suspicions. A mind so disposed to be alarmed without a cause will be but too ready when there's a reason.

Leont.Why, let him, when we are out of his power. But, believe me, Olivia, you have no great reason to dread his resentment. His repining temper, as it does no manner of injury to himself, so will it never do harm to others. He only frets to keep himself employed, and scolds for his private amusement.

Olivia.I don't know that; but I'm sure, on some occasions, it makes him look most shockingly.

Croaker(discovering himself). How does he look now?—How does he look now?

Olivia.Ah!

Leont.Undone.

Croaker.How do I look now? Sir, I am your very humble servant. Madam, I am yours. What! you are going off, are you? Then, first, if you please, take a word or two from me with you before you go. Tell me first where you are going; and when youhave told me that, perhaps, I shall know as little as I did before.

Croaker.—"How does he look now?"—p.310.

Leont.If that be so, our answer might but increase your displeasure, without adding to your information.

Croaker.I want no information from you, puppy! and you, too,madam, what answer have you got? Eh!A cry without, Stop him!I think I heard a noise. My friend, Honeywood, without—has he seized the incendiary? Ah, no, for now I hear no more on't.

Leont.Honeywood without? Then, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood that directed you hither.

Croaker.No, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood conducted me hither.

Leont.Is it possible?

Croaker.Possible! why he's in the house now, sir. More anxious about me, than my own son, sir.

Leont.Then, sir, he's a villain.

Croaker.How, sirrah; a villain, because he takes most care of your father? I'll not bear it. I tell you I'll not bear it. Honeywood is a friend to the family, and I'll have him treated as such.

Leont.I shall study to repay his friendship as it deserves.

Croaker.Ah, rogue, if you knew how earnestly he entered into my griefs, and pointed out the means to detect them, you would love him as I do.A cry without, Stop him!Fire and fury! they have seized the incendiary: they have the villain, the incendiary in view. Stop him, stop an incendiary, a murderer! stop him.

[Exit.

Olivia.Oh, my terrors! What can this new tumult mean?

Leont.Some new mark, I suppose, of Mr. Honeywood's sincerity. But we shall have satisfaction: he shall give me instant satisfaction.

Olivia.It must not be, my Leontine, if you value my esteem, or my happiness. Whatever be our fate, let us not add guilt to our misfortunes. Consider that our innocence willshortly be all we have left us. You must forgive him.

Leont.Forgive him! Has he not in every instance betrayed us? Forced me to borrow money from him, which appears a mere trick to delay us: promised to keep my father engaged, till we were out of danger, and here brought him to the very scene of our escape?

Olivia.Don't be precipitate. We may yet be mistaken.

EnterPostboy,dragging inJarvis:Honeywoodentering soon after.

Postboy.Ay, master, we have him fast enough. Here is the incendiary dog. I'm entitled to the reward; I'll take my oath I saw him ask for the money at the bar, and then run for it.

Honeyw.Come, bring him along. Let us see him. Let him learn to blush for his crimes. (Discovering his mistake.) Death! what's here?—Jarvis, Leontine, Olivia! What can all this mean?

Jarvis.Why, I'll tell you what it means: that I was an old fool, and that you are my master—that's all.

Honeyw.Confusion.

Leont.Yes, sir; I find you have kept your word with me. After such baseness, I wonder how you can venture to see the man you have injured.

Honeyw.My dear Leontine, by my life, my honour—

Leont.Peace, peace, for shame; and do not continue to aggravate baseness by hypocrisy. I know you, sir, I know you.

Honeyw.Why, won't you hear me? By all that's just, I knew not—

Leont.Hear you, sir, to what purpose? I now see through all your low arts; your ever complying withevery opinion; your never refusing any request; your friendship is as common as a prostitute's favours, and as fallacious; all these, sir, have long been contemptible to the world, and are now perfectly so to me.

Honeyw.Ha! contemptible to the world! That reaches me.

Aside.

Leont.All the seeming sincerity of your professions, I now find, were only allurements to betray; and all your seeming regret for their consequences, only calculated to cover the cowardice of your heart. Draw, villain!

Honeyw.—"Madam, you seem at leastcalm enough to hear reason."—p.314.

EnterCroakerout of breath.

Croaker.Where is the villain?

Where is the incendiary! (Seizing thePostboy.) Hold him fast, the dog; he has the gallows in his face. Come, you dog, confess; confess all, and hang yourself.

Postboy.Zounds, master! what do you throttle me for?

Croaker.(beating him). Dog, do you resist? do you resist?

Postboy.Zounds, master! I'm not he; there's the man that we thought was the rogue, and turns out to be one of the company.

Croaker.How!

Honeyw.Mr. Croaker, we have all been under a strange mistake here: I find there is nobody guilty; it was all an error; entirely an error of our own.

Croaker.And I say, sir, that you're in an error: for there's guilt, and double guilt; a plot, a damn'd jesuitical, pestilential plot; and I must have proof of it.

Honeyw.Do but hear me.

Croaker.What! you intend to bring 'em off, I suppose? I'll hear nothing.

Honeyw.Madam, you seem at least calm enough to hear reason.

Olivia.Excuse me.

Honeyw.Good Jarvis, let me then explain it to you.

Jarvis.What signifies explanation, when the thing is done?

Honeyw.Will nobody hear me? Was there ever such a set, so blinded by passion and prejudice!—(To thePostboy). My good friend, I believe you'll be surprised when I assure you——

Postboy.Sure me nothing—I'm sure of nothing but a good beating.

Croaker.Come then, you, madam; if you ever hope for any favour or forgiveness, tell me sincerely all you know of this affair.

Olivia.Unhappily, sir, I'm but too much the cause of your suspicions; you see before you, sir, one, that with false pretences has stept into your family, to betray it: not your daughter—

Croaker.Not my daughter!

Olivia.Not your daughter—but a mean deceiver—who—support me, I cannot—

Honeyw.Help, she's going! give her air.

Croaker.Ay, ay, take the young woman to the air; I would not hurt a hair of her head, whoseever daughter she may be—not so bad as that neither.

[Exeunt all butCroaker.

Croaker.Yes, yes, all's out; I nowsee the whole affair; my son is either married, or going to be so, to this lady, whom he imposed upon me as his sister. Ay, certainly so; and yet I don't find it afflicts me so much as one might think. There's the advantage of fretting away our misfortunes beforehand, we never feel them when they come.

EnterMiss RichlandandSir William.

Sir Will.But how do you know, madam, that my nephew intends setting off from this place?

Miss Rich.My maid assured me he was come to this inn, and my own knowledge of his intending to leave the kingdom, suggested the rest. But what do I see? my guardian here before us! Who, my dear sir, could have expected meeting you here? to what accident do we owe this pleasure?

Croaker.To a fool, I believe.

Miss Rich.But to what purpose did you come?

Croaker.To play the fool.

Miss Rich.But with whom?

Croaker.With greater fools than myself.

Miss Rich.Explain.

Croaker.Why, Mr. Honeywood brought me here, to do nothing now I am here; and my son is going to be married to I don't know who that is here; so now you are as wise as I am.

Miss Rich.Married! to whom, sir?

Croaker.To Olivia; my daughter, as I took her to be; but who the devil she is, or whose daughter she is, I know no more than the man in the moon.

Sir Will.Then, sir, I can inform you; and though a stranger, yet you shall find me a friend to your family: it will be enough at present to assureyou, that, both in point of birth and fortune, the young lady is at least your son's equal. Being left by her father, Sir James Woodville—

Croaker.Sir James Woodville! What of the west!

Sir Will.Being left by him, I say, to the care of a mercenary wretch, whose only aim was to secure her fortune to himself, she was sent into France, under pretence of education; and there every art was tried to fix her for life in a convent, contrary to her inclinations. Of this I was informed upon my arrival at Paris; and as I had been once her father's friend, I did all in my power to frustrate her guardian's base intentions. I had even meditated to rescue her from his authority, when your son stept in with more pleasing violence, gave her liberty, and you a daughter.

Croaker.But I intend to have a daughter of my own choosing, sir. A young lady, sir, whose fortune, by my interest with those that have interest, will be double what my son has a right to expect. Do you know Mr. Lofty, sir?

Sir Will.Yes, sir; and know that you are deceived in him. But step this way, and I'll convince you.

CroakerandSir Williamseem to confer.

EnterHoneywood.

Honeyw.Obstinate man, still to persist in his outrage! Insulted by him, despised by all, I now begin to grow contemptible even to myself. How have I sunk, by too great an assiduity to please! How have I overtaxed all my abilities, lest the approbation of a single fool should escape me! But all is now over; I have survived my reputation, my fortune, my friendships; and nothingremains henceforward for me but solitude and repentance.

Miss Rich.Is it true, Mr. Honeywood, that you are setting off, without taking leave of your friends? The report is, that you are quitting England. Can it be?

Honeyw.Yes, madam; and though I am so unhappy as to have fallen under your displeasure, yet, thank Heaven, I leave you to happiness; to one who loves you, and deserves your love; to one who has power to procure you affluence, and generosity to improve your enjoyment of it.

Miss Rich.And are you sure, sir, that the gentleman you mean is what you describe him?

Honeyw.I have the best assurances of it, his serving me. He does, indeed, deserve the highest happiness, and that is in your power to confer. As for me, weak and wavering as I have been, obliged by all and incapable of serving any, what happiness can I find, but in solitude? What hope, but in being forgotten?

Miss Rich.A thousand! to live among friends that esteem you; whose happiness it will be to be permitted to oblige you.

Honeyw.No, madam; my resolution is fixed. Inferiority among strangers is easy; but among those that once were equals, insupportable. Nay, to show you how far my resolution can go, I can now speak with calmness of my former follies, my vanity, my dissipation, my weakness. I will even confess, that, among the number of my other presumptions, I had the insolence to think of loving you. Yes, madam, while I was pleading the passion of another, my heart was tortured with its own. But it isover, it was unworthy our friendship, and let it be forgotten.

Miss Rich.You amaze me!

Honeyw.But you'll forgive it, I know you will; since the confession should not have come from me even now, but to convince you of the sincerity of my intention of—never mentioning it more.

Going.

Miss Rich.Stay, sir, one moment—Ha! he here—

EnterLofty.

Lofty.Is the coast clear? None but friends. I have followed you here with a trifling piece of intelligence: but it goes no farther; things are not yet ripe for a discovery. I have spirits working at a certain board: your affair at the treasury will be done in less than—a thousand years. Mum!

Miss Rich.Sooner, sir, I should hope.

Lofty.Why, yes, I believe it may, if it falls into proper hands, that know where to push and where to parry; that know how the land lies—eh, Honeywood?

Miss Rich.It is fallen into yours.

Lofty.Well, to keep you no longer in suspense, your thing is done. It is done, I say—that's all. I have just had assurances of Lord Neverout, that the claim has been examined, and found admissible.Quietusis the word, madam.

Honeyw.But how! his lordship has been at Newmarket these ten days.

Lofty.Indeed. Then Sir Gilbert Goose must have been most damnably mistaken. I had it of him.

Miss Rich.He! why Sir Gilbert and his family have been in the country this month.

Lofty.This month! It must certainlybe so—Sir Gilbert's letter did come to me from Newmarket, so that he must have met his lordship there; and so it came about. I have this letter about me; I'll read it to you (Taking out a large bundle.) That's from Paoli of Corsica; that's from the Marquis of Squilachi. Have you a mind to see a letter from Count Poniatowski, now king of Poland—Honest Pon—— (Searching.) O, sir, what are you here too? I'll tell you what, honest friend, if you have not absolutely delivered my letter to Sir William Honeywood, you may return it. The thing will do without him.

Sir Will.Sir, I have delivered it, and must inform you, it was received with the most mortifying contempt.

Croaker.Contempt! Mr. Lofty, what can that mean?

Lofty.Let him go on, let him go on, I say. You'll find it come to something presently.

Sir Will.Yes, sir, I believe you'll be amazed, if, after waiting some time in the ante-chamber; after being surveyed with insolent curiosity by the passing servants, I was at last assured, that Sir William Honeywood knew no such person, and I must certainly have been imposed upon.

Lofty.Good; let me die, very good. Ha! ha! ha!

Croaker.Now, for my life, I can't find out half the goodness of it.

Lofty.You can't. Ha! ha!

Croaker.No, for the soul of me; I think it was as confounded a bad answer, as ever was sent from one private gentleman to another.

Lofty.And so you can't find out the force of the message? Why, I was in the house at that very time. Ha! ha! It was I that sent that very answer to my own letter. Ha! ha!

Lofty.—"Ay, stick it where you will;for, by the Lord, it cuts but a very poor figure whereit sticks at present."—p.318.

Croaker.Indeed? How! why!

Lofty.In one word, things between Sir William and me, must be behind the curtain. A party has many eyes. He sides with Lord Buzzard; I side with Sir Gilbert Goose. So that unriddles the mystery.

Croaker.And so it does, indeed, and all my suspicions are over.

Lofty.Your suspicions? What, then, you have been suspecting, have you? Mr. Croaker, you and I were friends; we are friends no longer. Never talk to me. It's over; I say, it's over.

Croaker.As I hope for your favour, I did not mean to offend. It escaped me. Don't be discomposed.

Lofty.Zounds, sir, but I am discomposed, and will be discomposed. To be treated thus! Who am I? Was it for this I have been dreaded both by ins and outs? Have I been libelled in the Gazetteer, and praised in the St. James's? Have I been cheered at Wildman's, and a speaker at Merchant Tailors' Hall? Have I had my hand to addresses, and my head in the print-shops; and talk to me of suspects?

Croaker.My dear sir, be pacified. What can you have but asking pardon?

Lofty.Sir, I will not be pacified.—Suspects! Who am I? To be used thus, have I paid court to men in favour to serve my friends, the lords of the treasury, Sir William Honeywood, and the rest of the gang, and talk to me of suspects? Who am I, I say? who am I?

Sir Will.Since, sir, you're so pressing for an answer, I'll tell you who you are—a gentleman, as well acquainted with politics as with men in power; as well acquainted with persons of fashion as with modesty; with lords of the treasury as with truth; and with all as you are with Sir William Honeywood. I am Sir William Honeywood.

Discovering his ensigns of the Bath.

Croaker.Sir William Honeywood!

Honeyw.Astonishment! my uncle!

Aside.

Lofty.So then, my confounded genius has been all this time only leading me up to the garret, in order to fling me out of the window.

Croaker.What, Mr. Importance, and are these your works? Suspect you! You, who have been dreaded by the ins and outs: you, who have had your hand to addresses, and your head stuck up in print-shops. If you were served right, you should have your head stuck up in the pillory.

Lofty.Ay, stick it where you will; for, by the Lord, it cuts but a very poor figure where it sticks at present.

Sir Will.Well, Mr. Croaker, I hope you now see how incapable this gentleman is of serving you, and how little Miss Richland has to expect from his influence.

Croaker.Ay, sir, too well I see it, and I can't but say I have had some boding of it these ten days. So I'm resolved, since my son has placed his affections on a lady of moderate fortune, to be satisfied with his choice, and not run the hazard of another Mr. Lofty in helping him to a better.

Sir Will.I approve your resolution; and here they come, to receive a confirmation of your pardon and consent.

EnterMrs. Croaker,Jarvis,Leontine,Olivia.

Mrs. Croaker.Where's my husband? Come, come, lovey, you must forgive them. Jarvis here has been to tell me the whole affair; and, I say, you must forgive them. Our own was a stolen match, you know, my dear; and we never had any reason to repent of it.

Croaker.I wish we could both say so: however, this gentleman, Sir WilliamHoneywood, has been beforehand with you in obtaining their pardon. So, if the two poor fools have a mind to marry, I think we can tack them together without crossing the Tweed for it.

Joining their hands.

Leont.How blest and unexpected! What, what can we say to such goodness? But our future obedience shall be the best reply. And as for this gentleman, to whom we owe——

Sir Will.Excuse me sir, if I interrupt your thanks, as I have here an interest that calls me. (Turning toHoneywood.) Yes, sir, you are surprised to see me; and I own that a desire of correcting your follies led me hither. I saw with indignation the errors of a mind that only sought applause from others; that easiness of disposition which, though inclined to the right, had not courage to condemn the wrong. I saw with regret those splendid errors, that still took name from some neighbouring duty. Your charity, that was but injustice; your benevolence, that was but weakness; and your friendship but credulity. I saw, with regret, great talents and extensive learning only employed to add sprightliness to error, and increase your perplexities. I saw your mind, with a thousand natural charms; but the greatness of its beauty served only to heighten my pity for its prostitution.

Honeyw.Cease to upbraid me, sir: I have for some time but too strongly felt the justice of your reproaches; but there is one way still left me. Yes, sir, I have determined this very hour to quit for ever, a place where I have made myself the voluntary slave of all; and to seek among strangers that fortitude which may give strength to the mind, and marshal all its dissipated virtues. Yet, ere I depart, permitme to solicit favour for this gentleman; who, notwithstanding what has happened, has laid me under the most signal obligations. Mr. Lofty—

Lofty.Mr. Honeywood, I am resolved upon a reformation, as well as you. I now begin to find, that the man who first invented the art of speaking truth, was a much cunninger fellow than I thought him. And to prove that I design to speak truth for the future, I must now assure you that you owe your late enlargement to another; as, upon my soul, I had no hand in the matter. So now, if any of the company has a mind for preferment, he may take my place. I am determined to resign.

[Exit.

Honeyw.How have I been deceived!

Sir Will.No, sir, you have been obliged to a kinder, fairer friend for that favour—to Miss Richland. Would she complete our joy, and make the man she has honoured by her friendship happy in her love, I should then forget all, and be as blest as the welfare of my dearest kinsman can make me.

Miss Rich.After what is past, it would be but affectation to pretend to indifference. Yes, I will own an attachment, which, I find, was more than friendship. And if my entreaties cannot alter his resolution to quit the country, I will even try if my hand has not power to detain him.

Giving her hand.

Honeyw.Heavens! how can I have deserved all this? How express my happiness, my gratitude! A moment like this overpays an age of apprehension.

Croaker.Well, now I see content in every face; but Heaven send we be all better this day three months.

Sir Will.Henceforth, nephew, learn to respect yourself. He who seeks only for applause from without, has all his happiness in another's keeping.

Honeyw.Yes, sir, I now too plainly perceive my errors. My vanity, in attempting to please all, by fearing to offend any. My meanness in approving folly, lest fools should disapprove. Henceforth, therefore, it shall be my study to reserve my pity for real distress; my friendship for true merit; and my love for her who first taught me what it is to be happy.

EPILOGUE

SPOKEN BY MRS. BULKLEY.

As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procureTo swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;Thus, on the stage, our play-wrights still dependFor epilogues and prologues on some friend,Who knows each art of coaxing up the town,And make full many a bitter pill go down:Conscious of this, our bard has gone about,And teased each rhyming friend to help him out.An epilogue! things can't go on without it;It could not fail, would you but set about it:"Young man," cries one, (a bard laid up in clover,)"Alas! young man, my writing days are over;Let boys play tricks, and kick the straw, not I;Your brother doctor there, perhaps, may try,""What I! dear Sir," the doctor interposes;"What, plant my thistle, Sir, among his roses!No, no, I've other contests to maintain;To-night I heard our troops at Warwick-lane.Go ask your manager"—"Who, me! Your pardon,Those things are not our forte at Covent Garden."Our author's friends, thus placed at happy distance,Give him good words, indeed, but no assistance.As some unhappy wight, at some new play,At the pit door stands elbowing a way,While oft, with many a smile, and many a shrug,He eyes the centre, where his friends sit snug;His simpering friends, with pleasure in their eyes,Sink as he sinks, and as he rises rise:He nods, they nod; he cringes, they grimace;But not a soul will budge to give him place.Since, then, unhelp'd, our bard must now conform"To 'bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,"Blame where you must, be candid where you can,And be each critic theGood-natured Man.

As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure

To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;

Thus, on the stage, our play-wrights still depend

For epilogues and prologues on some friend,

Who knows each art of coaxing up the town,

And make full many a bitter pill go down:

Conscious of this, our bard has gone about,

And teased each rhyming friend to help him out.

An epilogue! things can't go on without it;

It could not fail, would you but set about it:

"Young man," cries one, (a bard laid up in clover,)

"Alas! young man, my writing days are over;

Let boys play tricks, and kick the straw, not I;

Your brother doctor there, perhaps, may try,"

"What I! dear Sir," the doctor interposes;

"What, plant my thistle, Sir, among his roses!

No, no, I've other contests to maintain;

To-night I heard our troops at Warwick-lane.

Go ask your manager"—"Who, me! Your pardon,

Those things are not our forte at Covent Garden."

Our author's friends, thus placed at happy distance,

Give him good words, indeed, but no assistance.

As some unhappy wight, at some new play,

At the pit door stands elbowing a way,

While oft, with many a smile, and many a shrug,

He eyes the centre, where his friends sit snug;

His simpering friends, with pleasure in their eyes,

Sink as he sinks, and as he rises rise:

He nods, they nod; he cringes, they grimace;

But not a soul will budge to give him place.

Since, then, unhelp'd, our bard must now conform

"To 'bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,"

Blame where you must, be candid where you can,

And be each critic theGood-natured Man.

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