ACT THE FOURTH.

Cimb.No, no, no, indeed, madam, it is not usual; and I must depend upon my own reflection and philosophy not to overstock my family.

Mrs. Seal.I cannot help her, cousin Cimberton; but she is, for aught I see, as well as the daughter of anybody else.

Cimb.That is very true, madam.

Enter aServant,who whispersMrs. Sealand.

Mrs. Seal.The lawyers are come, and now we are to hear what they have resolved as to the point whether it's necessary that Sir Geoffry should join in the settlement, as being what they call in the remainder. But, good cousin, you must have patience with 'em. These lawyers, I am told, are of a different kind; one is what they call a chamber counsel, the other a pleader. The conveyancer is slow, from an imperfection in his speech, and therefore shunned the bar, but extremely passionate and impatient of contradiction. The other is as warm as he; but has a tongue so voluble, and a head so conceited, he will suffer nobody to speak but himself.

Cimb.You mean old Serjeant Target and Counsellor Bramble? I have heard of 'em.

Mrs. Seal.The same. Show in the gentlemen. [ExitServant.

Re-enterServant,introducingMyrtleandTomdisguised asBrambleandTarget.

Mrs. Seal.Gentlemen, this is the party concerned,Mr. Cimberton; and I hope you have considered of the matter.

Tar.Yes, madam, we have agreed that it must be by indent——dent——dent——dent——

Bram.Yes, madam, Mr. Serjeant and myself have agreed, as he is pleased to inform you, that it must be an indenture tripartite,[132]and tripartite let it be, for Sir Geoffry must needs be a party; old Cimberton, in the year 1619, says, in that ancient roll in Mr. Serjeant's hands, as recourse thereto being had, will more at large appear——

Tar.Yes, and by the deeds in your hands, it appears that——

Bram.Mr. Serjeant, I beg of you to make no inferences upon what is in our custody; but speak to the titles in your own deeds. I shall not show that deed till my client is in town.

Cimb.You know best your own methods.

Mrs. Seal.The single question is, whether the entail is such that my cousin, Sir Geoffry, is necessary in this affair?

Bram.Yes, as to the lordship of Tretriplet, but not as to the messuage of Grimgribber.

Tar.I say that Gr—gr—that Gr—gr—Grimgribber, Grimgribber is in us; that is to say the remainder thereof, as well as that of Tr—tr—Triplet.

Bram.You go upon the deed of Sir Ralph, made in the middle of the last century, precedent to that in which old Cimberton made over the remainder, and made it pass to the heirs general, by which your client comes in; and I question whether the remainder even of Tretriplet is in him—But we are willing to waive that, and give him a valuable consideration. But we shall not purchasewhat is in us for ever, as Grimgribber is, at the rate, as we guard against the contingent of Mr. Cimberton having no son—Then we know Sir Geoffry is the first of the collateral male line in this family—yet——

Tar.Sir, Gr——gr——ber is——

Bram.I apprehend you very well, and your argument might be of force, and we would be inclined to hear that in all its parts—But, sir, I see very plainly what you are going into. I tell you, it is as probable a contingent that Sir Geoffry may die before Mr. Cimberton, as that he may outlive him.

Tar.Sir, we are not ripe for that yet, but I must say——

Bram.Sir, I allow you the whole extent of that argument; but that will go no farther than as to the claimants under old Cimberton. I am of opinion that, according to the instruction of Sir Ralph, he could not dock the entail, and then create a new estate for the heirs general.

Tar.Sir, I have not patience to be told that, when Gr——gr——ber——

Bram.I will allow it you, Mr. Serjeant; but there must be the word heirs for ever, to make such an estate as you pretend.

Cimb.I must be impartial, though you are counsel for my side of the question. Were it not that you are so good as to allow him what he has not said, I should think it very hard you should answer him without hearing him—But, gentlemen, I believe you have both considered this matter, and are firm in your different opinions. 'Twere better, therefore, you proceeded according to the particular sense of each of you, and gave your thoughts distinctly in writing. And do you see, sirs, pray let me have a copy of what you say in English.

Bram.Why, what is all we have been saying? In English! Oh! but I forget myself, you're a wit. But,however, to please you, sir, you shall have it, in as plain terms as the law will admit of.

Cimb.But I would have it, sir, without delay.

Bram.That, sir, the law will not admit of. The Courts are sitting at Westminster, and I am this moment obliged to be at every one of them, and 'twould be wrong if I should not be in the hall to attend one of 'em at least; the rest would take it ill else. Therefore, I must leave what I have said to Mr. Serjeant's consideration, and I will digest his arguments on my part, and you shall hear from me again, sir. [ExitBramble.

Tar.Agreed, agreed.

Cimb.Mr. Bramble is very quick; he parted a little abruptly.

Tar.He could not bear my argument; I pinched him to the quick about that Gr——gr——ber.

Mrs. Seal.I saw that, for he durst not so much as hear you. I shall send to you, Mr. Serjeant, as soon as Sir Geoffry comes to town, and then I hope all may be adjusted.

Tar.I shall be at my chambers, at my usual hours. [Exit.

Cimb.Madam, if you please, I'll now attend you to the tea table, where I shall hear from your ladyship reason and good sense, after all this law and gibberish.

Mrs. Seal.'Tis a wonderful thing, sir, that men of professions do not study to talk the substance of what they have to say in the language of the rest of the world. Sure, they'd find their account in it.

Cimb.They might, perhaps, madam, with people of your good sense; but with the generality 'twould never do. The vulgar would have no respect for truth and knowledge, if they were exposed to naked view.

Truth is too simple, of all art bereaved:Since the world will—why let it be deceived.[Exeunt.

Bevil, Jun.,with a letter in his hand; followed byTom.

Tom.Upon my life, sir, I know nothing of the matter. I never opened my lips to Mr. Myrtle about anything of your honour's letter to Madam Lucinda.

Bev.What's the fool in such a fright for? I don't suppose you did. What I would know is, whether Mr. Myrtle shows any suspicion, or asked you any questions, to lead you to say casually that you had carried any such letter for me this morning.

Tom.Why, sir, if he did ask me any questions, how could I help it?

Bev.I don't say you could, oaf! I am not questioning you, but him. What did he say to you?

Tom.Why, sir, when I came to his chambers, to be dressed for the lawyer's part your honour was pleased to put me upon, he asked me if I had been at Mr. Sealand's this morning? So I told him, sir, I often went thither—because, sir, if I had not said that he might have thought there was something more in my going now than at another time.

Bev.Very well!—The fellow's caution, I find, has given him this jealousy. [Aside.]—Did he ask you no other questions?

Tom.Yes, sir; now I remember, as we came away in the hackney coach from Mr. Sealand's, Tom, says he, as I came in to your master this morning, he bade you go for an answer to a letter he had sent. Pray did you bring him any? says he. Ah! says I, sir, your honour is pleased to joke with me; you have a mind to know whether I can keep a secret or no?

Bev.And so, by showing him you could, you told him you had one?

Tom.Sir——[Confused.

Bev.What mean actions does jealousy make a man stoop to! How poorly has he used art with a servant to make him betray his master!—Well! and when did he give you this letter for me?

Tom.Sir, he writ it before he pulled off his lawyer's gown, at his own chambers.

Bev.Very well; and what did he say when you brought him my answer to it?

Tom.He looked a little out of humour, sir, and said it was very well.

Bev.I knew he would be grave upon't; wait without.

Tom.Hum! 'gad, I don't like this; I am afraid we are all in the wrong box here. [ExitTom.

Bev.I put on a serenity while my fellow was present; but I have never been more thoroughly disturbed. This hot man! to write me a challenge, on supposed artificial dealing, when I professed myself his friend! I can live contented without glory; but I cannot suffer shame. What's to be done? But first let me consider Lucinda's letter again. [Reads.

"Sir,"I hope it is consistent with the laws a woman ought to impose upon herself, to acknowledge that your manner of declining a treaty of marriage in our family, and desiring the refusal may come from me, has somethingmore engaging in it than the courtship of him who, I fear, will fall to my lot, except your friend exerts himself for our common safety and happiness. I have reasons for desiring Mr. Myrtle may not know of this letter till hereafter, and am your most obliged humble servant,"Lucinda Sealand."

"Sir,

"I hope it is consistent with the laws a woman ought to impose upon herself, to acknowledge that your manner of declining a treaty of marriage in our family, and desiring the refusal may come from me, has somethingmore engaging in it than the courtship of him who, I fear, will fall to my lot, except your friend exerts himself for our common safety and happiness. I have reasons for desiring Mr. Myrtle may not know of this letter till hereafter, and am your most obliged humble servant,

"Lucinda Sealand."

Well, but the postscript—[Reads.

"I won't, upon second thoughts, hide anything from you. But my reason for concealing this is, that Mr. Myrtle has a jealousy in his temper which gives me some terrors; but my esteem for him inclines me to hope that only an ill effect which sometimes accompanies a tender love, and what may be cured by a careful and unblameable conduct."

Thus has this lady made me her friend and confident, and put herself, in a kind, under my protection. I cannot tell him immediately the purport of her letter, except I could cure him of the violent and untractable passion of jealousy, and so serve him, and her, by disobeying her, in the article of secrecy, more than I should by complying with her directions.—But then this duelling, which custom has imposed upon every man who would live with reputation and honour in the world—how must I preserve myself from imputations there? He'll, forsooth, call it or think it fear, if I explain without fighting.—But his letter—I'll read it again—

"Sir,"You have used me basely in corresponding and carrying on a treaty where you told me you were indifferent. I have changed my sword since I saw you; which advertisement I thought proper to send you against the next meeting between you and the injured"Charles Myrtle."EnterTom.

"Sir,

"You have used me basely in corresponding and carrying on a treaty where you told me you were indifferent. I have changed my sword since I saw you; which advertisement I thought proper to send you against the next meeting between you and the injured

"Charles Myrtle."

EnterTom.

Tom.Mr. Myrtle, sir. Would your honour please to see him?

Bev.Why, you stupid creature! Let Mr. Myrtle wait at my lodgings! Show him up. [ExitTom.] Well! I am resolved upon my carriage to him. He is in love, and in every circumstance of life a little distrustful, which I must allow for—but here he is.

EnterTom,introducingMyrtle.

Sir, I am extremely obliged to you for this honour.—[ToTom.] But, sir, you, with your very discerning face, leave the room. [ExitTom.]—Well, Mr. Myrtle, your commands with me?

Myrt.The time, the place, our long acquaintance, and many other circumstances which affect me on this occasion, oblige me, without farther ceremony or conference, to desire you would not only, as you already have, acknowledge the receipt of my letter, but also comply with the request in it. I must have farther notice taken of my message than these half lines—"I have yours," "I shall be at home."

Bev.Sir, I own I have received a letter from you in a very unusual style; but as I design everything in this matter shall be your own action, your own seeking, I shall understand nothing but what you are pleased to confirm face to face, and I have already forgot the contents of your epistle.

Myrt.This cool manner is very agreeable to the abuse you have already made of my simplicity and frankness; and I see your moderation tends to your own advantage and not mine—to your own safety, not consideration of your friend.

Bev.My own safety, Mr. Myrtle?

Myrt.Your own safety, Mr. Bevil.

Bev.Look you, Mr. Myrtle, there's no disguising thatI understand what you would be at; but, sir, you know I have often dared to disapprove of the decisions a tyrant custom has introduced, to the breach of all laws, both divine and human.

Myrt.Mr. Bevil, Mr. Bevil, it would be a good first principle, in those who have so tender a conscience that way, to have as much abhorrence of doing injuries, as——

Bev.As what?

Myrt.As fear of answering for 'em.

Bev.As fear of answering for 'em! But that apprehension is just or blameable according to the object of that fear. I have often told you, in confidence of heart, I abhorred the daring to offend the Author of life, and rushing into his presence—I say, by the very same act, to commit the crime against Him, and immediately to urge on to His tribunal.

Myrt.Mr. Bevil, I must tell you, this coolness, this gravity, this show of conscience, shall never cheat me of my mistress. You have, indeed, the best excuse for life, the hopes of possessing Lucinda. But consider, sir, I have as much reason to be weary of it, if I am to lose her; and my first attempt to recover her shall be to let her see the dauntless man who is to be her guardian and protector.

Bev.Sir, show me but the least glimpse of argument, that I am authorised, by my own hand, to vindicate any lawless insult of this nature, and I will show thee—to chastise thee hardly deserves the name of courage—slight, inconsiderate man!—There is, Mr. Myrtle, no such terror in quick anger; and you shall, you know not why, be cool, as you have, you know not why, been warm.

Myrt.Is the woman one loves so little an occasion of anger? You perhaps, who know not what it is to love, who have your ready, your commodious, your foreigntrinket, for your loose hours; and from your fortune, your specious outward carriage, and other lucky circumstances, as easy a way to the possession of a woman of honour; you know nothing of what it is to be alarmed, to be distracted with anxiety and terror of losing more than life. Your marriage, happy man, goes on like common business, and in the interim you have your rambling captive, your Indian princess, for your soft moments of dalliance, your convenient, your ready Indiana.

Bev.You have touched me beyond the patience of a man; and I'm excusable, in the guard of innocence (or from the infirmity of human nature, which can bear no more), to accept your invitation, and observe your letter—Sir, I'll attend you.

EnterTom.

Tom.Did you call, sir? I thought you did; I heard you speak aloud.

Bev.Yes; go call a coach.

Tom.Sir—master—Mr. Myrtle—friends—gentlemen—what d'ye mean? I am but a servant, or——

Bev.Call a coach. [ExitTom.]—[A long pause, walking sullenly by each other.]—[Aside.] Shall I (though provoked to the uttermost) recover myself at the entrance of a third person, and that my servant too, and not have respect enough to all I have ever been receiving from infancy, the obligation to the best of fathers, to an unhappy virgin too, whose life depends on mine? [Shutting the door.]—[ToMyrtle.] I have, thank Heaven, had time to recollect myself, and shall not, for fear of what such a rash man as you think of me, keep longer unexplained the false appearances under which your infirmity of temper makes you suffer; when perhaps too much regard to a false point of honour makes me prolong that suffering.

Myrt.I am sure Mr. Bevil cannot doubt but I had rather have satisfaction from his innocence than his sword.

Bev.Why, then, would you ask it first that way?

Myrt.Consider, you kept your temper yourself no longer than till I spoke to the disadvantage of her you loved.

Bev.True; but let me tell you, I have saved you from the most exquisite distress, even though you had succeeded in the dispute. I know you so well, that I am sure to have found this letter about a man you had killed would have been worse than death to yourself—Read it.—[Aside.] When he is thoroughly mortified, and shame has got the better of jealousy, when he has seen himself throughly, he will deserve to be assisted towards obtaining Lucinda.

Myrt.With what a superiority has he turned the injury on me, as the aggressor? I begin to fear I have been too far transported—A treaty in our family! is not that saying too much? I shall relapse.—But I find (on the postscript) something like jealousy. With what face can I see my benefactor, my advocate, whom I have treated like a betrayer? [Aside.]—Oh! Bevil, with what words shall I——

Bev.There needs none; to convince is much more than to conquer.

Myrt.But can you——

Bev.You have o'erpaid the inquietude you gave me, in the change I see in you towards me. Alas! what machines are we! thy face is altered to that of another man; to that of my companion, my friend.

Myrt.That I could be such a precipitant wretch!

Bev.Pray, no more.

Myrt.Let me reflect how many friends have died, by the hands of friends, for want of temper; and you must give me leave to say again, and again, how much I ambeholden to that superior spirit you have subdued me with. What had become of one of us, or perhaps both, had you been as weak as I was, and as incapable of reason?

Bev.I congratulate to us both the escape from ourselves, and hope the memory of it will make us dearer friends than ever.

Myrt.Dear Bevil, your friendly conduct has convinced me that there is nothing manly but what is conducted by reason, and agreeable to the practice of virtue and justice. And yet how many have been sacrificed to that idol, the unreasonable opinion of men! Nay, they are so ridiculous in it, that they often use their swords against each other with dissembled anger and real fear.

Betrayed by honour, and compelled by shame,They hazard being, to preserve a name:Nor dare inquire into the dread mistake,Till plunged in sad eternity they wake. [Exeunt.

EnterSir John BevilandMr. Sealand.

Sir J. Bev.Give me leave, however, Mr. Sealand, as we are upon a treaty for uniting our families, to mention only the business of an ancient house. Genealogy and descent are to be of some consideration in an affair of this sort.

Mr. Seal.Genealogy and descent! Sir, there has been in our family a very large one. There was Galfrid the father of Edward, the father of Ptolomey, the father of Crassus, the father of Earl Richard, the father of Henry the Marquis, the father of Duke John.

Sir J. Bev.What, do you rave, Mr. Sealand? all these great names in your family?

Mr. Seal.These? yes, sir. I have heard my father name 'em all, and more.

Sir J. Bev.Ay, sir? and did he say they were all in your family?

Mr. Seal.Yes, sir, he kept 'em all. He was the greatest cocker[134]in England. He said Duke John won him many battles, and never lost one.

Sir J. Bev.Oh, sir, your servant! you are laughing at my laying any stress upon descent; but I must tell you, sir, I never knew anyone but he that wanted that advantage turn it into ridicule.

Mr. Seal.And I never knew any one who had many better advantages put that into his account.—But, Sir John, value yourself as you please upon your ancient house, I am to talk freely of everything you are pleased to put into your bill of rates on this occasion; yet, sir, I have made no objections to your son's family. 'Tis his morals that I doubt.

Sir J. Bev.Sir, I can't help saying, that what might injure a citizen's credit may be no stain to a gentleman's honour.

Mr. Seal.Sir John, the honour of a gentleman is liable to be tainted by as small a matter as the credit of a trader. We are talking of a marriage, and in such a case, the father of a young woman will not think it an addition to the honour or credit of her lover that he is a keeper——

Sir J. Bev.Mr. Sealand, don't take upon you to spoil my son's marriage with any woman else.

Mr. Seal.Sir John, let him apply to any woman else, and have as many mistresses as he pleases.

Sir J. Bev.My son, sir, is a discreet and sober gentleman.

Mr. Seal.Sir, I never saw a man that wenched soberly and discreetly, that ever left it off; the decency observed in the practice hides, even from the sinner, the iniquity of it. They pursue it, not that their appetites hurry 'em away, but, I warrant you, because 'tis their opinion they may do it.

Sir J. Bev.Were what you suspect a truth—do you design to keep your daughter a virgin till you find a man unblemished that way?

Mr. Seal.Sir, as much a cit as you take me for, I know the town and the world; and give me leave to say, that we merchants are a species of gentry that have grown into the world this last century, and are as honourable, and almost as useful, as you landed folks, that have always thought yourselves so much above us; for your trading, forsooth, is extended no farther than a load of hay or a fat ox. You are pleasant people, indeed, because you are generally bred up to be lazy; therefore, I warrant you, industry is dishonourable.

Sir J. Bev.Be not offended, sir; let us go back to our point.

Mr. Seal.Oh! not at all offended; but I don't love to leave any part of the account unclosed. Look you, Sir John, comparisons are odious, and more particularly so on occasions of this kind, when we are projecting races that are to be made out of both sides of the comparisons.

Sir J. Bev.But, my son, sir, is, in the eye of the world, a gentleman of merit.

Mr. Seal.I own to you, I think him so.—But, Sir John, I am a man exercised and experienced in chances and disasters. I lost, in my earlier years, a very fine wife, and with her a poor little infant. This makes me, perhaps, over cautious to preserve the second bounty of providence to me, and be as careful as I can of thischild. You'll pardon me, my poor girl, sir, is as valuable to me as your boasted son to you.

Sir. J. Bev.Why, that's one very good reason, Mr. Sealand, why I wish my son had her.

Mr. Seal.There is nothing but this strange lady here, thisincognita, that can be objected to him. Here and there a man falls in love with an artful creature, and gives up all the motives of life to that one passion.

Sir J. Bev.A man of my son's understanding cannot be supposed to be one of them.

Mr. Seal.Very wise men have been so enslaved; and, when a man marries with one of them upon his hands, whether moved from the demand of the world or slighter reasons, such a husband soils with his wife for a month perhaps—then good be w'ye, madam, the show's over—Ah! John Dryden points out such a husband to a hair, where he says,—

"And while abroad so prodigal the dolt is,Poor spouse at home as ragged as a colt is."

Now, in plain terms, sir, I shall not care to have my poor girl turned a-grazing, and that must be the case when——

Sir J. Bev.But pray consider, sir, my son——

Mr. Seal.Look you, sir, I'll make the matter short. This unknown lady, as I told you, is all the objection I have to him; but, one way or other, he is, or has been, certainly engaged to her. I am therefore resolved, this very afternoon, to visit her. Now from her behaviour, or appearance, I shall soon be let into what I may fear or hope for.

Sir J. Bev.Sir, I am very confident there can be nothing inquired into relating to my son, that will not, upon being understood, turn to his advantage.

Mr. Seal.I hope that as sincerely as you believe it.—SirJohn Bevil, when I am satisfied, in this great point, if your son's conduct answers the character you give him, I shall wish your alliance more than that of any gentleman in Great Britain; and so your servant. [Exit.

Sir J. Bev.He is gone in a way but barely civil; but his great wealth, and the merit of his only child, the heiress of it, are not to be lost for a little peevishness.

EnterHumphry.

Oh! Humphry, you are come in a seasonable minute. I want to talk to thee, and to tell thee that my head and heart are on the rack about my son.

Humph.Sir, you may trust his discretion; I am sure you may.

Sir J. Bev.Why, I do believe I may, and yet I'm in a thousand fears when I lay this vast wealth before me; when I consider his prepossessions, either generous to a folly, in an honourable love, or abandoned, past redemption, in a vicious one; and, from the one or the other, his insensibility to the fairest prospect towards doubling our estate: a father, who knows how useful wealth is, and how necessary, even to those who despise it—I say a father, Humphry, a father cannot bear it.

Humph.Be not transported, sir; you will grow incapable of taking any resolution in your perplexity.

Sir J. Bev.Yet, as angry as I am with him, I would not have him surprised in anything. This mercantile rough man may go grossly into the examination of this matter, and talk to the gentlewoman so as to——

Humph.No, I hope, not in an abrupt manner.

Sir J. Bev.No, I hope not! Why, dost thou know anything of her, or of him, or of anything of it, or all of it?

Humph.My dear master, I know so much that I toldhim this very day you had reason to be secretly out of humour about her.

Sir J. Bev.Did you go so far? Well, what said he to that?

Humph.His words were, looking upon me steadfastly: "Humphry," says he, "that woman is a woman of honour."

Sir J. Bev.How! Do you think he is married to her, or designs to marry her?

Humph.I can say nothing to the latter; but he says he can marry no one without your consent while you are living.

Sir J. Bev.If he said so much, I know he scorns to break his word with me.

Humph.I am sure of that.

Sir J. Bev.You are sure of that—well! that's some comfort. Then I have nothing to do but to see the bottom of this matter during this present ruffle—Oh, Humphry——

Humph.You are not ill, I hope, sir.

Sir J. Bev.Yes, a man is very ill that's in a very ill-humour. To be a father is to be in care for one whom you oftener disoblige than please by that very care—Oh! that sons could know the duty to a father before they themselves are fathers—But, perhaps, you'll say now that I am one of the happiest fathers in the world; but, I assure you, that of the very happiest is not a condition to be envied.

Humph.Sir, your pain arises, not from the thing itself, but your particular sense of it. You are overfond, nay, give me leave to say, you are unjustly apprehensive from your fondness. My master Bevil never disobliged you, and he will, I know he will, do everything you ought to expect.

Sir J. Bev.He won't take all this money with this girl—For ought I know, he will, forsooth, have so muchmoderation as to think he ought not to force his liking for any consideration.

Humph.He is to marry her, not you; he is to live with her, not you, sir.

Sir J. Bev.I know not what to think. But, I know, nothing can be more miserable than to be in this doubt—Follow me; I must come to some resolution. [Exeunt.

EnterTomandPhillis.

Tom.Well, madam, if you must speak with Mr. Myrtle, you shall; he is now with my master in the library.

Phil.But you must leave me alone with him, for he can't make me a present, nor I so handsomely take anything from him before you; it would not be decent.

Tom.It will be very decent, indeed, for me to retire, and leave my mistress with another man.

Phil.He is a gentleman, and will treat one properly.

Tom.I believe so; but, however, I won't be far off, and therefore will venture to trust you. I'll call him to you. [ExitTom.

Phil.What a deal of pother and sputter here is between my mistress and Mr. Myrtle from mere punctilio! I could, any hour of the day, get her to her lover, and would do it—but she, forsooth, will allow no plot to get him; but, if he can come to her, I know she would be glad of it. I must, therefore, do her an acceptable violence, and surprise her into his arms. I am sure I go by the best rule imaginable. If she were my maid, I should think her the best servant in the world for doing so by me.

EnterMyrtleandTom.

Oh sir! You and Mr. Bevil are fine gentlemen to let a lady remain under such difficulties as my poor mistress, and no attempt to set her at liberty, or release her from the danger of being instantly married to Cimberton.

Myrt.Tom has been telling——But what is to be done?

Phil.What is to be done—when a man can't come at his mistress! Why, can't you fire our house, or the next house to us, to make us run out, and you take us?

Myrt.How, Mrs. Phillis?

Phil.Ay; let me see that rogue deny to fire a house, make a riot, or any other little thing, when there were no other way to come at me.

Tom.I am obliged to you, madam.

Phil.Why, don't we hear every day of people's hanging themselves for love, and won't they venture the hazard of being hanged for love? Oh! were I a man——

Myrt.What manly thing would you have me undertake, according to your ladyship's notion of a man?

Phil.Only be at once what, one time or other, you may be, and wish to be, or must be.

Myrt.Dear girl, talk plainly to me, and consider I, in my condition, can't be in very good humour—you say, to be at once what I must be.

Phil.Ay, ay; I mean no more than to be an old man; I saw you do it very well at the masquerade. In a word, old Sir Geoffry Cimberton is every hour expected in town, to join in the deeds and settlements for marrying Mr. Cimberton. He is half blind, half lame, half deaf, half dumb; though, as to his passions and desires, he is as warm and ridiculous as when in the heat of youth.

Tom.Come to the business, and don't keep thegentleman in suspense for the pleasure of being courted, as you serve me.

Phil.I saw you at the masquerade act such a one to perfection. Go, and put on that very habit, and come to our house as Sir Geoffry. There is not one there but myself knows his person; I was born in the parish where he is Lord of the Manor. I have seen him often and often at church in the country. Do not hesitate, but come hither; they will think you bring a certain security against Mr. Myrtle, and you bring Mr. Myrtle. Leave the rest to me; I leave this with you, and expect—They don't, I told you, know you; they think you out of town, which you had as good be for ever, if you lose this opportunity—I must be gone; I know I am wanted at home.

Myrt.My dear Phillis! [Catches and kisses her, and gives her money.

Phil.O fie! my kisses are not my own; you have committed violence; but I'll carry 'em to the right owner. [Tomkisses her.]—Come, see me downstairs [ToTom.], and leave the lover to think of his last game for the prize. [ExeuntTomandPhillis.

Myrt.I think I will instantly attempt this wild expedient. The extravagance of it will make me less suspected, and it will give me opportunity to assert my own right to Lucinda, without whom I cannot live. But I am so mortified at this conduct of mine towards poor Bevil. He must think meanly of me—I know not how to reassume myself, and be in spirit enough for such an adventure as this; yet I must attempt it, if it be only to be near Lucinda under her present perplexities; and sure——

The next delight to transport, with the fair,Is to relieve her in her hours of care. [Exit.

EnterPhillis,with lights, beforeMyrtle,disguised like oldSir Geoffry;supported byMrs. Sealand, Lucinda,andCimberton.

Mrs. Seal.Now I have seen you thus far, Sir Geoffry, will you excuse me a moment while I give my necessary orders for your accommodation? [ExitMrs. Seal.

Myrt.I have not seen you, cousin Cimberton, since you were ten years old; and as it is incumbent on you to keep up our name and family, I shall, upon very reasonable terms, join with you in a settlement to that purpose. Though I must tell you, cousin, this is the first merchant that has married into our house.

Luc.Deuce on 'em! am I a merchant because my father is? [Aside.

Myrt.But is he directly a trader at this time?

Cimb.There's no hiding the disgrace, sir; he trades to all parts of the world.

Myrt.We never had one of our family before who descended from persons that did anything.

Cimb.Sir, since it is a girl that they have, I am, forthe honour of my family, willing to take it in again, and to sink her into our name, and no harm done.

Myrt.'Tis prudently and generously resolved—Is this the young thing?

Cimb.Yes, sir.

Phil.Good madam, don't be out of humour, but let them run to the utmost of their extravagance.—Hear them out. [ToLuc.

Myrt.Can't I see her nearer? My eyes are but weak.

Phil.Beside, I am sure the uncle has something worth your notice. I'll take care to get off the young one, and leave you to observe what may be wrought out of the old one for your good. [ToLuc.Exit.

Cimb.Madam, this old gentleman, your great uncle, desires to be introduced to you, and to see you nearer!—Approach, sir.

Myrt.By your leave, young lady. [Puts on spectacles.]—Cousin Cimberton! She has exactly that sort of neck and bosom for which my sister Gertrude was so much admired in the year sixty-one, before the French dresses first discovered anything in women below the chin.

Luc.[Aside.] What a very odd situation am I in! though I cannot but be diverted at the extravagance of their humours, equally unsuitable to their age—Chin, quotha—I don't believe my passionate lover there knows whether I have one or not. Ha! ha!

Myrt.Madam, I would not willingly offend, but I have a better glass. [Pulls out a large one.

EnterPhillis.

Phil.[ToCimberton.] Sir, my lady desires to show the apartment to you that she intends for Sir Geoffry.

Cimb.Well, sir! by that time you will have sufficiently gazed and sunned yourself in the beauties of my spouse there.—I will wait on you again. [ExitCimb.andPhil.

Myrt.Were it not, madam, that I might be troublesome, there is something of importance, though we are alone, which I would say more safe from being heard.

Luc.There is something in this old fellow, methinks, that raises my curiosity. [Aside.

Myrt.To be free, madam, I as heartily contemn this kinsman of mine as you do, and am sorry to see so much beauty and merit devoted by your parents to so insensible a possessor.

Luc.Surprising!—I hope, then, sir, you will not contribute to the wrong you are so generous as to pity, whatever may be the interest of your family.

Myrt.This hand of mine shall never be employed to sign anything against your good and happiness.

Luc.I am sorry, sir, it is not in my power to make you proper acknowledgments; but there is a gentleman in the world whose gratitude will, I am sure, be worthy of the favour.

Myrt.All the thanks I desire, madam, are in your power to give.

Luc.Name them and command them.

Myrt.Only, madam, that the first time you are alone with your lover, you will, with open arms, receive him.

Luc.As willingly as his heart could wish it.

Myrt.Thus, then, he claims your promise. O Lucinda!

Luc.Oh! a cheat! a cheat! a cheat!

Myrt.Hush! 'tis I, 'tis I, your lover, Myrtle himself, madam.

Luc.O bless me! what a rashness and folly to surprise me so—But hush—my mother.

EnterMrs. Sealand, Cimberton,andPhillis.

Mrs. Seal.How now! what's the matter?

Luc.O madam! as soon as you left the room myuncle fell into a sudden fit, and—and—so I cried out for help to support him and conduct him to his chamber.

Mrs. Seal.That was kindly done! Alas! sir, how do you find yourself?

Myrt.Never was taken in so odd a way in my life—pray lead me! Oh! I was talking here—(pray carry me)—to my cousin Cimberton's young lady.

Mrs. Seal.[Aside.] My cousin Cimberton's young lady! How zealous he is, even in his extremity, for the match! A right Cimberton. [CimbertonandLucindalead him, as one in pain.

Cimb.Pox! Uncle, you will pull my ear off.

Luc.Pray, uncle! you will squeeze me to death.

Mrs. Seal.No matter, no matter—he knows not what he does.—Come, sir, shall I help you out?

Myrt.By no means! I'll trouble nobody but my young cousins here. [They lead him off.

Phil.But pray, madam, does your ladyship intend that Mr. Cimberton shall really marry my young mistress at last? I don't think he likes her.

Mrs. Seal.That's not material! Men of his speculation are above desires—but be as it may. Now I have given old Sir Geoffry the trouble of coming up to sign and seal, with what countenance can I be off?

Phil.As well as with twenty others, madam. It is the glory and honour of a great fortune to live in continual treaties, and still to break off: it looks great, madam.

Mrs. Seal.True, Phillis—yet to return our blood again into the Cimbertons is an honour not to be rejected—But were not you saying that Sir John Bevil's creature, Humphry, has been with Mr. Sealand?

Phil.Yes, madam; I overheard them agree that Mr. Sealand should go himself and visit this unknown lady that Mr. Bevil is so great with; and if he found nothingthere to fright him, that Mr. Bevil should still marry my young mistress.

Mrs. Seal.How! nay, then, he shall find she is my daughter as well as his. I'll follow him this instant, and take the whole family along with me. The disputed power of disposing of my own daughter shall be at an end this very night. I'll live no longer in anxiety for a little hussy that hurts my appearance wherever I carry her: and for whose sake I seem to be at all regarded, and that in the best of my days.

Phil.Indeed, madam, if she were married, your ladyship might very well be taken for Mr. Sealand's daughter.

Mrs. Seal.Nay, when the chit has not been with me, I have heard the men say as much. I'll no longer cut off the greatest pleasure of a woman's life (the shining in assemblies) by her forward anticipation of the respect that's due to her superior. She shall down to Cimberton-Hall—she shall—she shall.

Phil.I hope, madam, I shall stay with your ladyship.

Mrs. Seal.Thou shalt, Phillis, and I'll place thee then more about me—But order chairs immediately; I'll be gone this minute. [Exeunt.

EnterMr. SealandandHumphry.

Mr. Seal.I am very glad, Mr. Humphry, that you agree with me that it is for our common good I should look thoroughly into this matter.

Humph.I am, indeed, of that opinion; for there is no artifice, nothing concealed, in our family, which ought in justice to be known. I need not desire you, sir, to treat the lady with care and respect.

Mr. Seal.Master Humphry, I shall not be rude, though I design to be a little abrupt, and come into the matter at once, to see how she will bear upon a surprise.

Humph.That's the door, sir; I wish you success.—[WhileHumphryspeaks,Sealandconsults his table book.]—I am less concerned what happens there, because I hear Mr. Myrtle is well lodged as old Sir Geoffry; so I am willing to let this gentleman employ himself here, to give them time at home; for I am sure 'tis necessary for the quiet of our family Lucinda were disposed of out of it, since Mr. Bevil's inclination is so much otherwise engaged. [Exit.

Mr. Seal.I think this is the door. [Knocks.] I'll carry this matter with an air of authority, to inquire, though I make an errand, to begin discourse. [Knocks again, and enter a foot-boy.] So young man! is your lady within?

Boy.Alack, sir! I am but a country boy—I dant know whether she is or noa; but an you'll stay a bit, I'll goa and ask the gentlewoman that's with her.

Mr. Seal.Why, sirrah, though you are a country boy, you can see, can't you? You know whether she is at home, when you see her, don't you?

Boy.Nay, nay, I'm not such a country lad neither, master, to think she's at home because I see her. I have been in town but a month, and I lost one place already for believing my own eyes.

Mr. Seal.Why, sirrah! have you learnt to lie already?

Boy.Ah, master! things that are lies in the country are not lies at London. I begin to know my business a little better than so—But an you please to walk in, I'll call a gentlewoman to you that can tell you for certain—she can make bold to ask my lady herself.

Mr. Seal.Oh! then, she is within, I find, though you dare not say so.

Boy.Nay, nay! that's neither here nor there: what'smatter whether she is within or no, if she has not a mind to see anybody?

Mr. Seal.I can't tell, sirrah, whether you are arch or simple; but, however, get me a direct answer, and here's a shilling for you.

Boy.Will you please to walk in; I'll see what I can do for you.

Mr. Seal.I see you will be fit for your business in time, child; but I expect to meet with nothing but extraordinaries in such a house.

Boy.Such a house! Sir, you han't seen it yet. Pray walk in.

Mr. Seal.Sir, I'll wait upon you. [Exeunt.

EnterIsabella.

Isab.What anxiety do I feel for this poor creature! What will be the end of her? Such a languishing unreserved passion for a man that at last must certainly leave or ruin her! and perhaps both! Then the aggravation of the distress is, that she does not believe he will—not but, I must own, if they are both what they would seem, they are made for one another, as much as Adam and Eve were, for there is no other of their kind but themselves.

EnterBoy.

So, Daniel! what news with you?

Boy.Madam, there's a gentleman below would speak with my lady.

Isab.Sirrah! don't you know Mr. Bevil yet?

Boy.Madam, 'tis not the gentleman who comes every day, and asks for you, and won't go in till he knows whether you are with her or no.

Isab.Ha! that's a particular I did not know before. Well! be it who it will, let him come up to me.

[ExitBoy;and re-enters withMr. Sealand;Isabellalooks amazed.

Mr. Seal.Madam, I can't blame your being a little surprised to see a perfect stranger make a visit, and——

Isab.I am indeed surprised!—I see he does not know me. [Aside.

Mr. Seal.You are very prettily lodged here, madam; in troth you seem to have everything in plenty—A thousand a year, I warrant you, upon this pretty nest of rooms, and the dainty one within them. [Aside, and looking about.

Isab.[Apart.] Twenty years, it seems, have less effect in the alteration of a man of thirty than of a girl of fourteen—he's almost still the same; but alas! I find, by other men, as well as himself, I am not what I was. As soon as he spoke, I was convinced 'twas he; how shall I contain my surprise and satisfaction! He must not know me yet.

Mr. Seal.Madam, I hope I don't give you any disturbance; but there is a young lady here with whom I have a particular business to discourse, and I hope she will admit me to that favour.

Isab.Why, sir, have you had any notice concerning her? I wonder who could give it you.

Mr. Seal.That, madam, is fit only to be communicated to herself.

Isab.Well, sir! you shall see her.—[Aside.] I find he knows nothing yet, nor shall from me. I am resolved I will observe this interlude, this sport of nature and of fortune.—You shall see her presently, sir; for now I am as a mother, and will trust her with you. [Exit.

Mr. Seal.As a mother! right; that's the old phrase for one of those commode ladies, who lend out beauty for hire to young gentlemen that have pressing occasions.But here comes the precious lady herself. In troth a very sightly woman——

EnterIndiana.

Ind.I am told, sir, you have some affair that requires your speaking with me.

Mr. Seal.Yes, madam, there came to my hands a bill drawn by Mr. Bevil, which is payable to-morrow; and he, in the intercourse of business, sent it to me, who have cash of his, and desired me to send a servant with it; but I have made bold to bring you the money myself.

Ind.Sir! was that necessary?

Mr. Seal.No, madam; but to be free with you, the fame of your beauty, and the regard which Mr. Bevil is a little too well known to have for you, excited my curiosity.

Ind.Too well known to have for me! Your sober appearance, sir, which my friend described, made me expect no rudeness, or absurdity, at least——Who's there?—Sir, if you pay the money to a servant, 'twill be as well.

Mr. Seal.Pray, madam, be not offended; I came hither on an innocent, nay, a virtuous design; and, if you will have patience to hear me, it may be as useful to you, as you are in a friendship with Mr. Bevil, as to my only daughter, whom I was this day disposing of.

Ind.You make me hope, sir, I have mistaken you. I am composed again; be free, say on—[Aside.]—what I am afraid to hear.

Mr. Seal.I feared, indeed, an unwarranted passion here, but I did not think it was in abuse of so worthy an object, so accomplished a lady as your sense and mien bespeak; but the youth of our age care not what merit and virtue they bring to shame, so they gratify——

Ind.Sir, you are going into very great errors; but asyou are pleased to say you see something in me that has changed at least the colour of your suspicions, so has your appearance altered mine, and made me earnestly attentive to what has any way concerned you to inquire into my affairs and character.

Mr. Seal.How sensibly, with what an air she talks!

Ind.Good sir, be seated, and tell me tenderly; keep all your suspicions concerning me alive, that you may in a proper and prepared way acquaint me why the care of your daughter obliges a person of your seeming worth and fortune to be thus inquisitive about a wretched, helpless, friendless——[Weeping.] But I beg your pardon; though I am an orphan, your child is not; and your concern for her, it seems, has brought you hither.—I'll be composed; pray go on, sir.

Mr. Seal.How could Mr. Bevil be such a monster, to injure such a woman?

Ind.No, sir, you wrong him; he has not injured me. My support is from his bounty.

Mr. Seal.Bounty! when gluttons give high prices for delicates, they are prodigious bountiful.

Ind.Still, still you will persist in that error. But my own fears tell me all. You are the gentleman, I suppose, for whose happy daughter he is designed a husband by his good father, and he has, perhaps, consented to the overture. He was here this morning, dressed beyond his usual plainness—nay, most sumptuously—and he is to be, perhaps, this night a bridegroom.

Mr. Seal.I own he was intended such; but, madam, on your account, I have determined to defer my daughter's marriage till I am satisfied from your own mouth of what nature are the obligations you are under to him.

Ind.His actions, sir; his eyes have only made me think he designed to make me the partner of his heart. The goodness and gentleness of his demeanour made memisinterpret all. 'Twas my own hope, my own passion, that deluded me; he never made one amorous advance to me. His large heart, and bestowing hand, have only helped the miserable; nor know I why, but from his mere delight in virtue, that I have been his care and the object on which to indulge and please himself with pouring favours.

Mr. Seal.Madam, I know not why it is, but I, as well as you, am methinks afraid of entering into the matter I came about; but 'tis the same thing as if we had talked never so distinctly——he ne'er shall have a daughter of mine.

Ind.If you say this from what you think of me, you wrong yourself and him. Let not me, miserable though I may be, do injury to my benefactor. No, sir, my treatment ought rather to reconcile you to his virtues. If to bestow without a prospect of return; if to delight in supporting what might, perhaps, be thought an object of desire, with no other view than to be her guard against those who would not be so disinterested; if these actions, sir, can in a careful parent's eye commend him to a daughter, give yours, sir, give her to my honest, generous Bevil. What have I to do but sigh, and weep, and rave, run wild, a lunatic in chains, or, hid in darkness, mutter in distracted starts and broken accents my strange, strange story!

Mr. Seal.Take comfort, madam.

Ind.All my comfort must be to expostulate in madness, to relieve with frenzy my despair, and shrieking to demand of fate why—why was I born to such variety of sorrows.

Mr. Seal.If I have been the least occasion——

Ind.No, 'twas Heaven's high will I should be such; to be plundered in my cradle! tossed on the seas! and even there an infant captive! to lose my mother, hear but ofmy father! to be adopted! lose my adopter! then plunged again into worse calamities!

Mr. Seal.An infant captive!

Ind.Yet then, to find the most charming of mankind, once more to set me free from what I thought the last distress, to load me with his services, his bounties, and his favours; to support my very life in a way that stole, at the same time, my very soul itself from me.

Mr. Seal.And has young Bevil been this worthy man?

Ind.Yet then, again, this very man to take another! without leaving me the right, the pretence of easing my fond heart with tears! For, oh! I can't reproach him, though the same hand that raised me to this height now throws me down the precipice.

Mr. Seal.Dear lady! Oh, yet one moment's patience: my heart grows full with your affliction.—But yet there's something in your story that——

Ind.My portion here is bitterness and sorrow.

Mr. Seal.Do not think so. Pray answer me: does Bevil know your name and family?

Ind.Alas! too well! Oh, could I be any other thing than what I am——I'll tear away all traces of my former self, my little ornaments, the remains of my first state, the hints of what I ought to have been——

[In her disorder she throws away a bracelet, whichSealandtakes up, and looks earnestly on it.

Mr. Seal.Ha! what's this? My eyes are not deceived! It is, it is the same! the very bracelet which I bequeathed to my wife at our last mournful parting.

Ind.What said you, sir? Your wife? Whither does my fancy carry me? What means this unfelt motion at my heart? And yet, again my fortune but deludes me; for if I err not, sir, your name is Sealand; but my lost father's name was——

Mr. Seal.Danvers; was it not?

Ind.What new amazement? That is, indeed, my family.

Mr. Seal.Know, then, when my misfortunes drove me to the Indies, for reasons too tedious now to mention, I changed my name of Danvers into Sealand.

EnterIsabella.

Isab.If yet there wants an explanation of your wonder, examine well this face (yours, sir, I well remember), gaze on and read in me your sister, Isabella.

Mr. Seal.My sister!

Isab.But here's a claim more tender yet——your Indiana, sir, your long-lost daughter.

Mr. Seal.Oh, my child! my child!

Ind.All gracious Heaven! is it possible! do I embrace my father?

Mr. Seal.And I do hold thee.—These passions are too strong for utterance. Rise, rise, my child, and give my tears their way.—Oh, my sister! [Embracing her.

Isab.Now, dearest niece, my groundless fears, my painful cares no more shall vex thee. If I have wronged thy noble lover with too much suspicion, my just concern for thee, I hope, will plead my pardon.

Mr. Seal.Oh! make him, then, the full amends, and be yourself the messenger of joy. Fly this instant! tell him all these wondrous turns of Providence in his favour! Tell him I have now a daughter to bestow which he no longer will decline; that this day he still shall be a bridegroom; nor shall a fortune, the merit which his father seeks, be wanting. Tell him the reward of all his virtues waits on his acceptance. [ExitIsab.] My dearest Indiana! [Turns and embraces her.

Ind.Have I, then, at last, a father's sanction on my love? His bounteous hand to give, and make my heart a present worthy of Bevil's generosity?

Mr. Seal.Oh, my child! how are our sorrows past o'erpaid by such a meeting! Though I have lost so many years of soft paternal dalliance with thee, yet, in one day to find thee thus, and thus bestow thee, in such perfect happiness, is ample, ample reparation!—And yet, again, the merit of thy lover——

Ind.Oh! had I spirits left to tell you of his actions! how strongly filial duty has suppressed his love; and how concealment still has doubled all his obligations; the pride, the joy of his alliance, sir, would warm your heart, as he has conquered mine.

Mr. Seal.How laudable is love when born of virtue! I burn to embrace him——

Ind.See, sir, my aunt already has succeeded, and brought him to your wishes.

EnterIsabella,withSir John Bevil, Bevil, Jun., Mrs. Sealand, Cimberton, Myrtle,andLucinda.

Sir J. Bev.[Entering.] Where, where's this scene of wonder? Mr. Sealand, I congratulate, on this occasion, our mutual happiness——Your good sister, sir, has, with the story of your daughter's fortune, filled us with surprise and joy. Now all exceptions are removed; my son has now avowed his love, and turned all former jealousies and doubts to approbation; and, I am told, your goodness has consented to reward him.

Mr. Seal.If, sir, a fortune equal to his father's hopes can make this object worthy his acceptance.

Bev. Jun.I hear your mention, sir, of fortune, with pleasure only as it may prove the means to reconcile the best of fathers to my love. Let him be provident, but let me be happy.—My ever-destined, my acknowledged wife! [EmbracingIndiana.

Ind.Wife! Oh, my ever loved! My lord! my master!

Sir J. Bev.I congratulate myself, as well as you, thatI had a son who could, under such disadvantages, discover your great merit.

Mr. Seal.Oh, Sir John! how vain, how weak is human prudence! What care, what foresight, what imagination could contrive such blest events, to make our children happy, as Providence in one short hour has laid before us?

Cimb.[ToMrs. Sealand.] I am afraid, madam, Mr. Sealand is a little too busy for our affair. If you please, we'll take another opportunity.

Mrs. Seal.Let us have patience, sir.

Cimb.But we make Sir Geoffry wait, madam.

Myrt.O, sir, I am not in haste.

[During this,Bev., Jun.,presentsLucindatoIndiana.

Mr. Seal.But here! here's our general benefactor! Excellent young man, that could be at once a lover to her beauty and a parent to her virtue.

Bev. Jun.If you think that an obligation, sir, give me leave to overpay myself, in the only instance that can now add to my felicity, by begging you to bestow this lady on Mr. Myrtle.

Mr. Seal.She is his without reserve; I beg he may be sent for. Mr. Cimberton, notwithstanding you never had my consent, yet there is, since I last saw you, another objection to your marriage with my daughter.

Cimb.I hope, sir, your lady has concealed nothing from me?

Mr. Seal.Troth, sir, nothing but what was concealed from myself—another daughter, who has an undoubted title to half my estate.

Cimb.How, Mr. Sealand? Why, then, if half Mrs. Lucinda's fortune is gone, you can't say that any of my estate is settled upon her. I was in treaty for the whole; but if that is not to be come at, to be sure there can be no bargain. Sir, I have nothing to do but take myleave of your good lady, my cousin, and beg pardon for the trouble I have given this old gentleman.

Myrt.That you have, Mr. Cimberton, with all my heart. [Discovers himself.

All.Mr. Myrtle!

Myrt.And I beg pardon of the whole company that I assumed the person of Sir Geoffry, only to be present at the danger of this lady being disposed of, and in her utmost exigence to assert my right to her; which, if her parents will ratify, as they once favoured my pretensions, no abatement of fortune shall lessen her value to me.

Back to Index Next