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Title: Wives as they were and Maids as they are
Date of first publication: 1797
Author: Elizabeth Inchbald (1753–1821)
Date first posted: Dec. 30, 2014
Date last updated: Dec. 30, 2014
Faded Page eBook #20141257

This eBook was produced by: Delphine Lettau
& the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net




WIVES AS THEY WERE, AND MAIDS AS THEY ARE.

 A COMEDY,
 IN FIVE ACTS;

 BY MRS. INCHBALD.

 AS PERFORMED AT THE
 THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.
 PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS
 FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.

 WITH REMARKS
 BY THE AUTHOR.

 LONDON:

 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME,
 PATERNOSTER ROW.

 WILLIAM SAVAGE, PRINTER.
 LONDON.




REMARKS.


The writer of this drama seems to have had a tolerable good notion of
that which a play ought to be; but has here failed in the execution of
a proper design.

Here are both fable and characters to constitute a good comedy; but
incidents, the very essence of a dramatic work, are at times wanting,
at other times ineffectual.

The first act promises a genuine comedy; and the authoress appears
to have yielded up her own hopes with reluctance. In the dearth of
true comic invention, she has had recourse at the end of her second
act, to farce; though she certainly knew, that the natural, and the
extravagant, always unite so ill, that in the combination, the one is
sure to become insipid, or the other revolting.

Aware of this consequence, and wanting humour to proceed in the beaten
track of burlesque, she then essays successively, the serious, the
pathetic, and the refined comic; failing by turns in them all, though
by turns producing chance effect; but without accomplishing evident
intentions, or gratifying certain expectations indiscreetly raised.

The outline of a good play is a dangerous drawing to give to the
public;--a feeble plan is the surest safe-guard for an indifferent
work: want of talent is never so forcibly perceived, as when certain
parts are imperfect, whilst the rest demand eulogium. Critics are
nice, and sometimes enraged where they find at once, ability, and
imbecile attempt to explain vigorous conceptions.

Happy the author whose imagination extends no farther than the produce
of his own anxious efforts! Such an one knows not his danger--his
incapacity; and escaping censure, enjoys with triumph implied success,
or receives animadversion with a sense of injury: whilst the more
judicious, though more humble writer, often shrinks from praise as
unmerited, yet bears with still heavier heart the critic's reproach
as his due.

There are some just sentiments, some repartees, a little pathos,
and an excellent moral in this production;--but there are also
vapid scenes, and improbable events, which, perhaps, more than
counterbalance those which are lively and natural.

Had the punishment of the two fashionable women been inflicted by a
less disgraceful means, than a prison for debt; and had the singular
conduct of Lord and Lady Priory been supported by occurrences, as
pleasantly singular, this might have ranked among some very deserving
comedies: Yet even in its present imperfect state, assisted by the art
of excellent acting, it was most favourably received on the stage; and
may now, without the charm of scenic aid, afford an hour's amusement
to the reader.

The character of Miss Dorrillon is by far the most prominent and
interesting one in the piece; and appears to have been formed of
the same matter and spirit as compose the body and mind of the
heroine of the "Simple Story"--A woman of fashion with a heart--A
lively comprehension, and no reflection:--an understanding, but
no thought.--Virtues abounding from disposition, education,
feeling:--Vices obtruding from habit and example.

This part was written purposely for Miss Farren; but the very season
she should have performed it, she quitted the stage, to appear in a
more elevated character.


DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.


  LORD PRIORY                _Mr. Quick._
  SIR WILLIAM DORRILLON      _Mr. Munden._
  SIR GEORGE EVELYN          _Mr. Pope._
  MR. BRONZELY               _Mr. Lewis._
  MR. NORBERRY               _Mr. Waddy._
  OLIVER                     _Mr. Fawcett._
  NABSON                     _Mr. Thompson._

  LADY PRIORY                _Miss Chapman._
  LADY MARY RAFFLE           _Mrs. Mattocks._
  MISS DORRILLON             _Miss Wallis._

  _Several_ SERVANTS, _&c._

  _Scene--London._




WIVES AS THEY WERE, AND MAIDS AS THEY ARE.




ACT THE FIRST.


SCENE I.

_An Apartment at_ MR. NORBERRY'S.

_Enter_ SIR WILLIAM DORRILLON, _followed by_ MR. NORBERRY.


_Mr. Nor._ Why blame me?--Why blame me?--My sister had the sole
management of your daughter by your own authority, from the age
of six years, till within eight months of the present time, when,
in consequence of my sister's death, she was transferred to my
protection.

_Sir W._ Your sister, Mr. Norberry, was a prudent good woman--she
never could instruct her in all this vice.

_Mr. Nor._ Depend upon it, my dear friend, that Miss Dorrillon, your
daughter, came to my house just the same heedless woman of fashion you
now see her.

_Sir W._ [_Impatiently._] Very well--'Tis very well.--But, when I
think on my disappointment----

_Mr. Nor._ There is nothing which may not be repaired. Maria, with you
for a guide----

_Sir W._ Me! She turns me into ridicule--laughs at me! This morning,
as she was enumerating some of her frivolous expenses, she observed
me lift up my hands and sigh; on which she named fifty other
extravagances she had no occasion to mention, merely to enjoy the
pang, which every folly of her's sends to my heart.

_Mr. Nor._ But do not charge this conduct of your daughter to the want
of filial love:--did she know you were Sir William Dorrillon, did she
know you were her father, every word you uttered, every look you
glanced, would be received with gentleness and submission:--but your
present rebukes from Mr. Mandred (as you are called), from a perfect
stranger, as she supposes, she considers as an impertinence, which she
has a right to resent.

_Sir W._ I wish I had continued abroad. And yet, the hope of beholding
her, and of bestowing upon her the riches I acquired, was my sole
support through all the toils by which I gained them.

_Mr. Nor._ And, considering her present course of life, your riches
could not come more opportunely.

_Sir W._ She shall never have a farthing of them. Do you think I
have encountered the perils of almost every climate, to squander my
hard-earned fortune upon the paltry vicious pleasures in which she
delights? No; I have been now in your house exactly a month--I will
stay but one day longer--and then, without telling her who I am, I
will leave the kingdom and her for ever----Nor shall she know, that
this insignificant merchant, whom she despises, was her father, till
he is gone, never to be recalled.

_Mr. Nor._ You are offended with some justice; but, as I have often
told you, your excessive delicacy, respecting the conduct of the other
sex, degenerates into rigour.

_Sir W._ True; for what I see so near perfection as woman, I want
to see perfect. We, Mr. Norberry, can never be perfect; but surely
women, women, might easily be made angels!

_Mr. Nor._ And if they were, we should soon be glad to make them into
women again.

_Sir W._ [_Inattentive to_ MR. NORBERRY.]--She sets the example. She
gives the fashion!--and now your whole house, and all your visitors,
in imitation of her, treat me with levity, or with contempt.--But I'll
go away to-morrow.

_Mr. Nor._ Can you desert your child in the moment she most wants your
protection? That exquisite beauty just now mature----

_Sir W._ There's my difficulty!--There's my struggle!--If she were
not so like her mother, I could leave her without a pang--cast
her off, and think no more of her.--But that shape! that face! those
speaking looks! Yet, how reversed!--Where is the diffidence, the
humility--where is the simplicity of my beloved wife? Buried in her
grave.

_Mr. Nor._ And, in all this great town, you may never see even its
apparition.

_Sir W._ I rejoice, however, at the stratagem by which I have gained
a knowledge of her heart; deprived of the means of searching it in
her early years, had I come at present as her father, she might
have deceived me with counterfeit manners, till time disclosed the
imposition.----Now, at least, I am not imposed upon.

      _Enter_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Lord Priory. [_Exit._

_Sir W._ Lord Priory!

_Mr. Nor._ An old acquaintance of mine, though we seldom meet. He has
some singularities; and yet, perhaps----

      _Enter_ LORD PRIORY.

_Mr. Nor._ My dear Lord, I am glad to see you. Mr. Mandred.
[_Introducing_ SIR WILLIAM.] My lord, I hope I see you in perfect
health.

_Lord P._ Yes; but in very ill humour. I came to London early this
morning with my family for the winter, and found my house, after going
through only a slight repair, so damp, that I dare not sleep in it:
and so I am now sending and going all over the town to seek for
lodgings.

_Mr. Nor._ Then seek no further, but take up your lodgings here.

_Lord P._ To be plain with you, I called in hopes you would ask me;
for I am so delicately scrupulous in respect to Lady Priory, that I
could not bear the thought of taking her to an hotel.

_Mr. Nor._ Then pray return home, and bring her hither immediately,
with all your luggage.

_Lord P._ I am most extremely obliged to you [_very fervently_]; for
into no one house belonging to any of my acquaintance would I take my
wife, so soon as into yours. I have now been married eleven years, and
during all that time I have made it a rule never to go on a visit, so
as to domesticate, in the house of a married man.

_Sir W._ May I inquire the reason of that?

_Lord P._ It is because I am married myself; and having always treated
my wife according to the ancient mode of treating wives, I would
rather she should never be an eye witness to modern household
management.

_Sir W._ The ancients, I believe, were very affectionate to their
wives.

_Lord P._ And they had reason to be so; for their wives obeyed them.
The ancients seldom gave them the liberty to do wrong: but modern
wives do as they like.

_Mr. Nor._ And don't you suffer Lady Priory to do as she likes?

_Lord P._ Yes, when it is what I like too. But never, never else.

_Sir W._ Does not this draw upon you the character of an unkind
husband?

_Lord P._ That I am proud of. Did you never observe, that seldom a
breach of fidelity in a wife is exposed, where the unfortunate husband
is not said to be "the best creature in the world! Poor man, so good
natured!--Dotingly fond of his wife!--Indulged her in everything!--How
cruel in her to serve him so!" Now, if I am served so, it shall not be
for my good nature.

_Mr. Nor._ But I hope you equally disapprove of every severity.

_Lord P._ [_Rapidly._] What do you mean by severity?

_Mr. Nor._ You know you used to be rather violent in your temper.

_Lord P._ So I am still--apt to be hasty and passionate; but that is
rather of advantage to me, as a husband--it causes me to be obeyed
without hesitation--no liberty for contention, tears, or repining. I
insure conjugal sunshine, by now and then introducing a storm; while
some husbands never see any thing but a cloudy sky, and all for the
want of a little domestic thunder to clear away the vapours.

_Sir W._ I have long conceived indulgence to be the bane of female
happiness.

_Lord P._ And so it is.--I know several women of fashion, who will
visit six places of different amusement on the same night, have
company at home besides, and yet, for want of something more, they'll
be out of spirits: my wife never goes to a public place, has scarce
ever company at home, and yet is always in spirits.

_Sir W._ Never visits operas, or balls, or routs?

_Lord P._ How should she? She goes to bed every night exactly at ten.

_Mr. Nor._ In the name of wonder, how have you been able to bring her
to that?

_Lord P._ By making her rise every morning at five.

_Mr. Nor._ And so she becomes tired before night.

_Lord P._ Tired to death. Or, if I see her eyes completely open at
bed time, and she asks me to play one game more at piquet, the next
morning I jog her elbow at half after four.

_Mr. Nor._ But suppose she does not reply to the signal.

_Lord P._ Then I turn the key of the door when I leave the chamber;
and there I find her when I come home in the evening.

_Sir W._ And without her having seen a creature all day?

_Lord P._ That is in my favour: for not having seen a single soul, she
is rejoiced even to see me.

_Mr. Nor._ And will she speak to you after such usage?

_Lord P._ If you only considered how much a woman longs to speak after
being kept a whole day silent, you would not ask that question.

_Mr. Nor._ Well! this is the most surprising method!

_Lord P._ Not at all. In ancient days, when manners were simple and
pure, did not wives wait at the table of their husbands? and did
not angels witness the subordination? I have taught Lady Priory to
practise the same humble docile obedience--to pay respect to her
husband in every shape and every form--no careless inattention to
me--no smiling politeness to others in preference to me--no putting me
up in a corner--in all assemblies, she considers her husband as the
first person.

_Sir W._ I am impatient to see her.

_Lord P._ But don't expect a fine lady with high feathers, and the
et cætera of an Eastern concubine; you will see a modest plain
Englishwoman, with a cap on her head, a handkerchief on her neck,
and a gown of our own manufacture.

_Sir W._ My friend Norberry, what a contrast must there be between
Lady Priory and the ladies in this house!

_Lord P._ [_Starting._] Have you ladies in this house?

_Mr. Nor._ Don't be alarmed; they are both single, and can give Lady
Priory no ideas concerning the marriage state.

_Lord P._ Are you sure of that? Some single women are more informed
than their friends believe.

_Mr. Nor._ For these ladies, notwithstanding a few, what you would
call, excesses, I will answer.

_Lord P._ Well, then, I and my wife will be with you about nine in the
evening; you know we go to bed at ten.

_Mr. Nor._ But remember you bring your own servants to wait on you at
five in the morning.

_Lord P._ I shall bring but one--my old servant, Oliver, who knows all
my customs so well, that I never go any where without him.

_Mr. Nor._ And is that old servant your valet still?

_Lord P._ No, he is now a kind of gentleman in waiting. I have had
no employment for a valet since I married:--my wife, for want of
dissipation, has not only time to attend upon herself, but upon me. Do
you think I could suffer a clumsy man to tie on my neckcloth, or comb
out my hair, when the soft, delicate and tender hands of my wife are
at my command? [_Exit._

_Sir W._ After this amiable description of a woman, how can I endure
to see her, whom reason bids me detest; but whom nature still----

_Mr. Nor._ Here she comes; and her companion in folly along with her.

_Sir W._ There's another woman! that Lady Mary Raffle! How can you
suffer such people in your house?

_Mr. Nor._ She is only on a visit for a few months--she comes every
winter, as her family and mine have long been intimately connected.

_Sir W._ Let us go--let us go. I cannot bear the sight of them.
[_Going._]

_Mr. Nor._ Stay, and for once behave with politeness and good humour
to your daughter--do--and I dare venture my life, she will neither
insult nor treat you with disrespect. You know you always begin first.

_Sir W._ Have not I a right to begin first?

_Mr. Nor._ But that is a right of which she is ignorant.

_Sir W._ And deserves to be so, and ever shall be so. I stay and treat
her with politeness and good humour! No--rather let her kneel and
implore my pardon.

_Mr. Nor._ Suffer me to reveal who you are, and so she will.

_Sir W._ If you expose me only by one insinuation to her knowledge,
our friendship is at that moment at an end.

_Mr. Nor._ [_Firmly._] I have already given you my promise on that
subject; and you may rely upon it.

_Sir W._ I thank you--I believe you--and I thank you.

      [_Exeunt_ SIR WILLIAM _and_ MR. NORBERRY.

      _Enter_ LADY MARY RAFFLE _and_ MISS DORILLON.

_Miss Dor._ [_Stealing on as_ MR. NORBERRY _and_ SIR WILLIAM _leave
the stage_.] They are gone. Thank Heaven they are gone out of this
room, for I expect a dozen visiters! and Mr. Norberry looks so gloomy
upon me, he puts me out of spirits: while that Mr. Mandred's
peevishness is not to be borne.

_Lady R._ Be satisfied; for you were tolerably severe upon him this
morning in your turn.

_Miss Dor._ Why, I am vexed; and I don't like to be found fault with
in my best humour, much less when I have so many things to tease me.

_Lady R._ What are they?

_Miss Dor._ I have now lost all my money, and all my jewels, at play;
it is almost two years since I have received a single remittance
from my father; and Mr. Norberry refuses to advance me a shilling
more.--What I shall do to discharge a debt, which must be paid either
to-day or to-morrow, Heaven only knows!--Dear Lady Mary, you could not
lend me a small sum, could you?

_Lady R._ Who, I! [_With surprise._]--My dear creature, it was the
very thing I was going to ask of you: for when you have money, I know
no one so willing to disperse it among her friends.

_Miss Dor._ Am not I?--I protest I love to part with my money; for I
know with what pleasure I receive it myself; and I like to see that
joy sparkle in another's eye, which has so often brightened my own.
But last night ruined me--I must have money somewhere.----As you
cannot assist me, I must ask Mr. Norberry for his carriage, and
immediately go in search of some friend that can lend me four, or
five, or six, or seven hundred pounds. But the worst is, I have lost
my credit--Is not that dreadful?

_Lady R._ Yes, yes; I know what it is. [_Shaking her Head._

_Miss Dor._ What will become of me?

_Lady R._ Why don't you marry, and throw all your misfortunes upon
your husband?

_Miss Dor._ Why don't you marry? For you have as many to throw.

_Lady R._ But not so many lovers who would be willing to receive the
load. I have no Sir George Evelyn with ten thousand pounds a year--no
Mr. Bronzely.

_Miss Dor._ If you have not now, you once had: for I am sure Bronzely
once paid his addresses to you.

_Lady R._ And you have the vanity to suppose you took him from me!

_Miss Dor._ Silence.--Reserve your anger to defend, and not to attack
me. We should be allies by the common ties of poverty: and 'tis time
to arm; for here's the enemy.

      _Enter_ SIR WILLIAM, _with_ MR. NORBERRY.

_Sir W._ They are here still.

      [_Aside to_ MR. NORBERRY, _and offering to go back_.

_Mr. Nor._ [_Preventing him._] No, no.

_Miss Dor._ I have been waiting here, Mr. Norberry, to ask a favour of
you. [_He and_ SIR WILLIAM _come forward_.] Will you be so kind as to
lend me your carriage for a couple of hours?

_Mr. Nor._ Mr. Mandred [_Pointing to_ SIR WILLIAM.] has just asked me
for it to take him into the city.

_Lady R._ Oh, Mr. Mandred will give it up to Miss Dorrillon, I am
sure: he can defer his business till to-morrow.

_Sir W._ No, madam, she may as well put off her's. I have money to
receive, and I can't do it.

_Miss Dor._ I have money to pay, and I can't do it.

_Lady R._ If one is going to receive, and the other to pay money,
I think the best way is for you to go together; and then, what
deficiency there is on one side, the other may supply.

_Miss Dor._ Will you consent, Mr. Mandred?--Come, do, and I'll be
friends with you.

_Sir W._ [_Aside._] "She'll be friends with me!"

_Miss Dor._ Will you?

_Sir W._ No.

_Miss Dor._ Well, I certainly can ask a favour of Mr. Mandred better
than I can of any person in the world.

_Mr. Nor._ Why so, Maria?

_Miss Dor._ Because, instead of pain, I can see it gives him pleasure
to refuse me.

_Sir W._ I never confer a favour, of the most trivial kind, where I
have no esteem.

_Miss Dor._ [_Proudly._] Nor would I receive a favour, of the most
trivial kind, from one--who has not liberality to esteem me.

_Mr. Nor._ Come, Miss Dorrillon, do not grow serious: laugh as much as
you please, but say nothing that----

_Sir W._ [_To her, impatiently._] From whom, then, can you ever receive
favours, except from the vain, the idle, and the depraved?--from those
whose lives are passed in begging them of others?

_Miss Dor._ They are the persons who know best how to bestow them:
for my part, had I not sometimes felt what it was to want a friend,
I might never have had humanity to be the friend of another.

      _Enter_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Sir George Evelyn.

_Mr. Nor._ And pray, my dear, whose friend have you ever been?

      _Enter_ SIR GEORGE EVELYN.

Not Sir George Evelyn's, I am sure; and yet he, of all others,
deserves your friendship most.

_Miss Dor._ But friendship will not content him: as soon as he thought
he had gained that----

_Sir G._ He aspired to the supreme happiness of your love.

_Miss Dor._ Now you talk of "supreme happiness," have you procured
tickets for the fête on Thursday?

_Sir G._ I have; provided you have obtained Mr. Norberry's leave to
go.

_Mr. Nor._ That I cannot grant.

_Miss Dor._ Nay, my dear sir, do not force me to go without it.

_Sir W._ [_With Violence._] Would you dare?

_Miss Dor._ [_Looking with Surprise._] "Would I dare," Mr. Mandred!--and
what have _you_ to say if I do?

_Sir W._ [_Recollecting himself._] I was only going to say, that if
you did, and I were Mr. Norberry----

_Miss Dor._ And if you _were_ Mr. Norberry, and treated me in the
manner you now do,--depend upon it, I should not think your approbation
or disapprobation, your pleasure or displeasure, of the slightest
consequence.

_Sir W._ [_Greatly agitated._] I dare say not--I dare say not. Good
morning, Sir George--I dare say not.--Good morning, Mr. Norberry.
[_Going._]

_Mr. Nor._ Stop a moment.--Maria, you have offended Mr. Mandred.

_Miss Dor._ He has offended me.

_Sir W._ [_At the Door, going off._] I shan't offend you long.

_Mr. Nor._ [_Going to him, and taking him by the Arm._] Stay, Mr.
Mandred: Miss Dorrillon, make an apology: Mr. Mandred is my friend,
and you must not treat him with this levity.

_Lady R._ No, no apology.

_Miss Dor._ No, no apology. But I'll tell you what I'll do. [_Goes up
to_ SIR WILLIAM.] If Mr. Mandred likes, I'll shake hands with him--and
we'll be good friends for the future. But then, don't find fault
with me--I can't bear it. _You_ don't like to be found fault with
yourself--You look as cross as any thing every time I say the least
word against you. Come, shake hands; and don't let us see one another's
failings for the future.

_Sir W._ There is no future for the trial.

_Miss Dor._ How do you mean?

_Mr. Nor._ Mr. Mandred sets off again for India to-morrow.

_Miss Dor._ Indeed! I thought he was come to live in England! I am
sorry you are going.

_Sir W._ [_With earnestness._] Why sorry?

_Miss Dor._ Because we have so frequently quarrelled. I am always
unhappy when I am going to be separated from a person with whom I have
disagreed; I often think I could part with less regret from a friend.

_Sir G._ Not, I suppose, if the quarrel is forgiven?

_Miss Dor._ Ah! but Mr. Mandred does not forgive! no! in his looks I
can always see resentment.--Sometimes, indeed, I have traced a spark
of kindness, and have gently tried to blow it to a little flame of
friendship; when, with one hasty puff, I have put it out.

_Sir W._ You are right. It is--I believe--extinguished.

      [_Exit_ SIR WILLIAM--MR. NORBERRY _following_.

_Sir G._ A very singular man.

_Lady R._ Oh! if he was not rich, there would be no bearing
him--Indeed, he seems to have lost all his friends; for, during the
month he has been here, I never found he had any one acquaintance out
of this house.

_Miss Dor._ And, what is very strange, he has taken an aversion to
me.--But it is still more strange, that, although I know he has, yet in
my heart I like _him_. He is morose to an insufferable degree; but then,
when by chance he speaks kind, you cannot imagine how it sooths me.--He
wants compassion and all the tender virtues; and yet, I frequently
think, that if any serious misfortune were to befall me, he would be
the first person to whom I should fly to complain.

_Lady R._ Then why don't you fly, and tell him of your misfortune last
night?

_Sir G._ [_Starting._] What misfortune?

_Miss Dor._ [_To_ LADY RAFFLE.] Hush!

_Lady R._ A loss at play.--[_To_ MISS DORRILLON.]--I beg your pardon,
but it was out before you said hush!

_Sir G._ Ah, Maria! will you still risk your own and my happiness? For
mine is so firmly fixed on you, it can only exist in yours.

_Lady R._ Then, when she is married to Mr. Bronzely, you will be happy,
because she will be so?

_Sir G._ Bronzely! has he dared?

_Miss Dor._ Have not _you_ dared, sir?

_Lady R._ But I believe Mr. Bronzely is the most daring of the
two.--[_Aside to_ SIR GEORGE.] Take care of him. [_Exit._

_Sir G._ Miss Dorrillon, I will not affront you by supposing that you
mean seriously to receive the addresses of Mr. Bronzely; but I warn
you against giving others, who know you less than I do, occasion to
think so.

_Miss Dor._ I never wish to deceive any one--I do admit of Mr.
Bronzely's addresses.

_Sir G._ Why, he is the professed lover of your friend Lady Mary! or,
granting he denies it, and that I even pass over the frivolity of the
coxcomb, still he is unworthy of you.

_Miss Dor._ He says the same of you; and half a dozen more say exactly
the same of each other. If you like, I'll discard every one of you as
unworthy; but, if I retain you, I will retain the rest. Which do you
chuse?

_Sir G._ I submit to any thing, rather than the total loss of you--But
remember, that your felicity--

_Miss Dor._ "Felicity! felicity!"--ah! that is a word not to be found
in the vocabulary of my sensations!--[_Sighing._]

_Sir G._ I believe you, and have always regarded you with a compassion
that has augmented my love. In your infancy, deprived of the watchful
eye and anxious tenderness of a mother; the manly caution and authority
of a father; misled by the brilliant vapour of fashion; surrounded by
enemies in the garb of friends----Ah! do you weep? blessed, blessed be
the sign!--Suffer me to dry those tears I have caused, and to give you a
knowledge of true felicity.

_Miss Dor._ [_Recovering._] I am very angry with myself.--Don't, I
beg, tell Mr. Norberry or Mr. Mandred you saw me cry--they'll suppose
I have been more indiscreet [_Stifling her Tears._] than I really
have. For in reality I have nothing----

_Sir G._ Do not endeavour to conceal from me, what my tender concern
for you has given me the means to become acquainted with. I know you
are plunged in difficulties by your father neither sending nor coming,
as you once expected: I know you are still deeper plunged by your
fondness for play.

_Miss Dor._ Very well, sir! proceed.

_Sir G._ Thus then--Suffer me to send my steward to you this morning;
he shall regulate your accounts, and place them in a state that shall
protect you from further embarrassment till your father sends to you;
or shall protect you from his reproaches, should he arrive.

_Miss Dor._ Sir George, I have listened to your detail of the vices,
which I acknowledge, with patience, with humility--but your suspicion
of those which I have _not_, I treat with pride, with indignation.

_Sir G._ How! suspicion!

_Miss Dor._ What part of my conduct, sir, has made you dare to suppose
I would extricate myself from the difficulties that surround me, by
the influence I hold over the weakness of a lover?

      [_Exeunt, separately._




ACT THE SECOND.


SCENE I.

_Another Apartment at_ MR. NORBERRY'S.

_Enter Two_ PORTERS _from an upper Entrance, bringing in Trunks_; LORD
PRIORY _and_ MR. NORBERRY _following_.


_Mr. Nor._ Here, Stephens, why are you out of the way? Show the men
with these boxes into the dressing-room appointed for my Lord Priory.

      [_A_ SERVANT _enters on the opposite Side, and the_ PORTERS
      _follow him off at a lower Entrance on that Side_.

      _Enter_ SIR WILLIAM DORRILLON.

_Sir W._ My lord, I hope I see you well this evening.

_Lord P._ Yes, sir--and you find I have literally accepted Mr.
Norberry's invitation, and am come to him with all my luggage.

      _Enter_ OLIVER, _with a small Box in each Hand_.

_Lord P._ Follow those men with the trunks, Oliver.

_Mr. Nor._ Ah, Mr. Oliver, how do you do?

_Oliver._ Pretty well--tolerably well--I thank you, sir. [_Exit._

      _Enter_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Lady Priory.

      _Enter_ LADY PRIORY.

_Lord P._ [_To her._] Mr. Norberry, our worthy host; and Mr. Mandred.
[_She courtesies._]

_Mr. Nor._ I hope your ladyship will find my house so little
inconvenient to you, as to induce you to make no very short visit.

_Lady P._ I have no doubt, sir, but I shall find, from your
friendship, every comfort in this house, which it is possible for me
to enjoy out of my own.

      _Enter_ LADY MARY RAFFLE _and_ MISS DORRILLON.

_Mr. Nor._ [_Introducing them._] Lady Priory--Lady Mary Raffle--Miss
Dorrillon--Lord Priory.

_Lady R._ Permit me, Lady Priory, to take you to the next room: we are
going to have tea immediately.

_Lady P._ I have drank tea, madam.

_Miss Dor._ Already! it is only nine o'clock.

_Lady P._ Then it is near my hour of going to bed.

      [LORD PRIORY, SIR WILLIAM, _and_ MR. NORBERRY, _retire to the
      Back of the Stage, and talk apart_.

_Lady R._ Go to bed already! in the name of wonder, what time did you
rise this morning?

_Lady P._ Why, I do think it was almost six o'clock.

_Lady R._ [_In amaze._] And were you up at six this morning?

_Lady P._ Yes.

_Miss Dor._ At six in the month of January!

_Lady R._ It is not light till eight: and what good, now, could you
possibly be doing for two hours by candle-light?

_Lady P._ Pray, Lady Mary, at what time did you go to bed?

_Lady R._ About three this morning.

_Lady P._ And what good, could you, possibly be doing for eleven hours
by candle-light?

_Lady R._ Good! it's as much as can be expected from a woman of
fashion, that she does no harm.

_Lady P._ But I should fear you would do a great deal of harm to your
health, your spirits, and the tranquillity of your mind.

      [MR. NORBERRY _goes off_--LORD PRIORY _and_ SIR WILLIAM _come
      forward_.

_Lady R._ Oh, my Lord Priory, I really find all the accounts I have
heard of your education for a wife to be actually true!--and I can't
help laughing to think, if you and I had chanced to have married
together, what a different creature you most likely would have made of
me, to what I am at present!

_Lord P._ Yes; and what a different creature you most likely would
have made of _me_, to what I am at present.

_Sir W._ Lady Priory, I am not accustomed to pay compliments, or to
speak my approbation, even when praise is a just tribute; but your
virtues compel me to an eulogium.--That wise submission to a husband
who loves you, that cheerful smile so expressive of content, and that
plain dress, which indicates the elegance, as well as the simplicity,
of your mind, are all symbols of a heart so unlike to those which the
present fashion of the day misleads----

_Miss Dor._ Why look so steadfastly on me, Mr. Mandred? Do you pretend
to see my heart?

_Sir W._ Have you any?

_Miss Dor._ Yes; and one large enough to hold--even my enemy.

      _Enter_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Mr. Bronzely.

_Miss Dor._ Show him into the other room. [_Exit_ SERVANT.] Come, Lady
Priory, we must introduce you to Mr. Bronzely: he is one of the most
fashionable, agreeable, pleasant, whimsical, unthinking, and spirited
creatures in all the world: you'll be charmed----

_Lady P._ I dare say it's near ten o'clock. I am afraid I shan't be
able to keep awake.

_Miss Dor._ You must--We are going to have a little concert--'Twill be
impossible to sleep.

      [_Exit_ MISS DORRILLON, _leading off_ LADY PRIORY.

_Lady R._ Upon my word, my lord, your plan of management has made your
wife unfit for company.

_Lord P._ So much more fit to be a wife.

_Lady R._ She is absolutely fatigued with hard labour--for shame!--How
does household drudgery become her hand?

_Lord P._ Much better than cards and dice do yours.

      [_Exit_ LADY MARY, _followed by_ LORD PRIORY--SIR WILLIAM
      _is left on the Stage alone_.

_Sir W._ She "has a heart large enough to receive her enemy."--And by
that enemy she means her father.

      [_He sits down, and shows Marks of Inquietude._

      _Enter_ SIR GEORGE EVELYN.

_Sir G._ I beg your pardon, Mr. Mandred--I hope I don't interrupt
you--I only wished to speak to Miss Dorrillon.

_Sir W._ She is just gone into the next room.

_Sir G._ To the concert?

_Sir W._ Are not you invited?

_Sir G._ Yes; but before I go in, I wish to know who are the
company.----Can you tell whether--a Mr. Bronzely is there?

_Sir W._ I know he is.

_Sir G._ Are you acquainted with him?

_Sir W._ I have met him here frequently.

_Sir G._ And are you _certain_ he is here at present?

_Sir W._ I have reason to be certain.

_Sir G._ Any particular reason?

_Sir W._ Your mistress, when his name was announced, went out,
exclaiming, "he was the most charming and accomplished man in the
world."

_Sir G._ [_Greatly agitated._] She loves him, sir--I have reason to
believe--to know she loves him. Thus she gives up my happiness and her
own, to gratify the vanity of a man, who has no real regard for her;
but whose predominant passion is to enjoy the villanous name of a
general seducer.

_Sir W._ [_Rising._] Why do you suffer it?

_Sir G._ Hush! Don't repeat what I have said, or I lose her for ever.
I am at present suffering under her resentment; and have just sent
into the next room, to ask, if she were there, to speak with her.

      _Enter_ MISS DORRILLON.

_Miss Dor._ And is it possible I was sent for by you?

_Sir G._ Don't be offended, that I should be uneasy, and come to
atone----

_Miss Dor._ I can't forgive you, sir; 'tis impossible. [_Going._]

_Sir G._ You pardon those, Maria, who offend you more.

_Sir W._ But an ungrateful mind always prefers the unworthy.

_Miss Dor._ Ah! Mr. Mandred, are you there? [_Playfully._] And have
you undertaken to be Sir George's counsel? If you have, I believe he
must lose his cause.--To fit you for the tender task of advocate in
the suit of love, have you ever been admitted an honourable member of
that court? Have you, with all that solemn wisdom of which you are
master, studied Ovid, as our great lawyers study Blackstone? If you
have--show cause----why plaintiff has a right to defendant's heart.

_Sir W._ A man of fortune, of family, and of character, ought at
least to be treated with respect, and with honour.

_Miss Dor._ You mean to say, "That if A is beloved by B, why
should not A be constrained to return B's love?" Counsellor for
defendant--"Because, moreover, and besides B, who has a claim on
defendant's heart, there are also C, D, E, F, and G; all of whom put in
their separate claims--and what, in this case, can poor A do? She is
willing to part and divide her love, share and share alike; but B will
have all or none: so poor A, must remain, A, by herself, A."

_Sir G._ Do you think I would accept a share of your heart?

_Miss Dor._ Do you think I could afford to give it you all? "Besides,"
says defendant's counsellor, "I will prove that plaintiff B has no
heart to give defendant in return--he has, indeed, a pulsation on
the left side; but, as it never beat with any thing but suspicion
and jealousy; in the laws of love, it is not termed, admitted, or
considered--a heart." [_Going._]

_Sir G._ Where are you going?

_Miss Dor._ To the music-room, to be sure: and if you follow me, it
shall be to see me treat every person there better than yourself--and
Mr. Bronzely, whom you hate, to see me treat him best of all.[_Exit._

_Sir G._ I must follow you, though to death. [_Exit._

_Sir W._ Fool! And yet am not I nearly as weak as he is? Else why do I
linger in this house? Why feed my hopes with some propitious moment to
waken her to repentance? Why still anxiously wish to ward off some
dreaded fate?--If she would marry Sir George, now--if she would give
me only _one_ proof of discretion, I think I would endeavour to own her
for my child.

      _Enter_ MR. BRONZELY, _in haste_.

_Mr. Bron._ My dear sir, will you do me the greatest favour in the
world?--you must do it in an instant too. Do, my dear sir, ask no
questions; but lend me your coat for a single moment, and take
mine--only for a moment--I cannot explain my reasons now, my
impatience is so great;--but, the instant you have complied, I will
inform you of the whole secret; and you will forever rejoice that you
granted my request.

      [_Pulling off his Coat._

_Sir W._ [_Aside, with great Scorn._] And this very contemptible
fellow is the favoured lover of my daughter!--I'll--[_After a
Struggle._]--yes--I'll make myself master of his secret--it may
possibly concern her--my child--my child's safety may depend upon it.

_Mr. Bron._ Dear Mr. Mandred, no time is to be lost!

_Sir W._ This is rather a strange request, Mr. Bronzely. However,
your fervency convinces me you must have some very forcible
reason.--There's my coat, sir.

      [_Gives it him._

_Mr. Bron._ Thank you, dear sir, a thousand times.--This goodness I
shall for ever remember--this binds me to you for ever! [_Putting it
on._] Thank you, sir, a thousand times!

      [_Bowing, dressed, and composed._

_Sir W._ [_After putting on the other Coat._] And now, sir, explain
the cause of this metamorphosis?--let me have the satisfaction to know
what advantage will accrue from it; and in what I have to rejoice?

_Mr. Bron._ Will you promise me not to reveal the secret, if I trust
you with it?

_Sir W._ Would you add conditions after the bargain is made? I must
know your secret instantly. [_Threatening._]

_Mr. Bron._ Then I will disclose it to you voluntarily; and rely on
your honour to keep it.

_Sir W._ [_Attentively._] Well, sir.

_Mr. Bron._ Hark! I thought I heard somebody coming!

      [_Offers to go._

_Sir W._ I insist upon the information.

      [_Laying hold of him._

_Mr. Bron._ Well, then, sir--well--you shall--you shall.--Then,
sir----in the small gallery, which separates the music-room from the
rest of these apartments--in that little gallery, the lamp is just,
unfortunately, gone out.--I was (as unfortunately) coming along, when
the whisking of a woman's gown made me give a sudden start!--I found a
person was in the gallery with me, and in the dark.

_Sir W._ Well, sir!

_Mr. Bron._ And so, confidently assuring myself, that it was Miss
Dorrillon's waiting-maid, or Lady Mary's waiting-maid, I most unluckily
clasped my arms around her, and took one kiss.

_Sir W._ Only one?

_Mr. Bron._ There might be half a dozen! I won't pretend to swear to
one. We'll say half a dozen, before I knew who she was. My rapidity
would not let her breathe at first, and she was fairly speechless.--But
the moment she recovered her breath, she cried, "Villain! whoever you
are, you shall repent this:"--and I found it was the voice of a lady to
whom I had just been introduced in the concert room, one Lady Priory! It
seems, she was stealing to bed at the time we unhappily met.

_Sir W._ But what has this to do with your coat?

_Mr. Bron._ A great deal, sir--you will find, a great deal.--As I
perceived she did not know me, I carefully held my tongue--but she, with
her prudish notions, called "Help!" and "murder!" On which, I flew to
the door, to get away before the lights could be brought--she flew after
me; and, as I went out, exclaimed--"Don't hope to conceal yourself;
I shall know you among the whole concert room; for I carry scissars
hanging at my side, and I have cut a piece off your coat."--[SIR WILLIAM
_looks hastily at his Coat--on which_ BRONZELY _holds up the Part
cut_.]--And, sure enough, so she had!

_Sir W._ [_In Anger._] And what, sir, am I to have the shame----

_Mr. Bron._ Either you or I must.

_Sir W._ And do you dare----

_Mr. Bron._ Consider, my dear sir, how much less the fault is, if
perpetrated by you than by me! This is the first offence of the kind
which, I dare say, you have committed this many a year; and it will be
overlooked in _you_. But I have been suspected of two or three things
of the same sort within a very short time; and I should never be
forgiven.

_Sir W._ Nor ought you to be forgiven--it would be scandalous in me to
connive----

_Mr. Bron._ But would it not be more scandalous to reveal the secret
of a person who confided in you?--who flew to you in distress, as his
friend, the partner of his cares?

_Sir W._ Your impertinence to me, but more your offence to a woman of
virtue, deserves punishment. Yet I think the punishment of death, in
the way that a man of my Lord Priory's temper might inflict it, much
too honourable for your deserts; so I save your life for some less
creditable end. I lend you my coat, to disgrace you by existence: and
will go to my chamber, and put on another myself.

      [_Passes_ BRONZELY, _in order to retire to his Chamber_.

      _Enter_ LORD PRIORY, _who meets him_. SIR WILLIAM _starts_.

_Mr. Bron._ [_Going up to_ LORD PRIORY.] Ah, my lord! is the concert
over? charming music! that _solo_ was divine.

      [SIR WILLIAM _steals to a Chair, and sits down to hide his
      Coat_.

_Lord P._ [_After looking inquisitively at_ BRONZELY'S _Dress_.] It is
time the concert should be over--it had been better had it never
begun; for there have been some very improper persons admitted.

      [_In great Anger._

_Mr. Bron._ [_Affecting surprise._] Indeed!

_Lord P._ [_Trembling with Rage._] I am at a loss how to act. [_Draws
a Chair with violence, and places himself down by_ SIR WILLIAM--SIR
WILLIAM _appears disconcerted and uneasy_.] But if I could find the
man to whom this piece of cloth belongs----

_Mr. Bron._ What! that small piece of woollen cloth?

_Lord P._ Yes; then I should know how to act. In the mean time, Mr.
Mandred, as I know you are a great admirer of my wife [SIR WILLIAM
_starts_.] and a grave prudent man of honour, I come to ask your
advice, how I am the most likely to find out the villain who has dared
to insult her; for a gross insult she has received from one of Mr.
Norberry's visitors, wearing a coat of which this is a part.

_Mr. Bron._ The villain, no doubt, stole out of the house immediately.

_Lord P._ I ordered the street door to be guarded that instant--and
you, Mr. Bronzely, are now the last man whose habit I have examined.

_Mr. Bron._ And you see I am perfectly whole. [_Turning round._

_Lord P._ I do see----I do see.

      [SIR WILLIAM _moves about on his Chair, and appears
      greatly embarrassed_. LORD PRIORY _starts up in a violent
      Passion_--SIR WILLIAM _starts up with him_.

_Lord P._ I'll find him out if he be on earth--I'll find him out
if----My passion carries me away--I have not coolness to detect him
myself--I'll employ another--I'll send Oliver in search. Oliver!
[_Calling._] Oliver! here, Oliver! Why don't you answer when you are
called, you stupid, dull, idle, forgetful, blundering, obstinate,
careless, self-sufficient----

      [_Exit, in a Fury._

_Sir W._ [_Rising with great Dignity._] And now, Mr. Bronzely, how do
you think you are to repay me, for having felt one transitory moment
of shame? Understand, sir, that shame is one of the misfortunes to
which I have never----

      _Enter_ LADY MARY RAFFLE.

_Mr. Bron._ [_Aside to_ SIR WILLIAM.] Sit down, sit down, sit
down--hold your tongue, and sit down.

      [SIR WILLIAM _reluctantly retires to a Chair_.

_Lady R._ Well, I do most cordially rejoice, when peevish, suspicious,
and censorious people, meet with humiliation! I could die with
laughing at the incident, which has put both my Lord and my Lady
Priory into the greatest terror, grief, and rage.

_Sir W._ [_Rising._] I am out of all patience. The malicious depravity
of persons in a certain sphere of life is not to be borne. [_With
Firmness and Solemnity._] Lady Mary--Mr. Bronzely----

_Mr. Bron._ [_In a half Whisper to him._] Go away--don't expose
yourself--steal out of the room--take my advice, and go to bed--hide
yourself. So great is my respect for you, I would not have you
detected for the world.

_Sir W._ I am going to retire, sir. I would not throw my friend's house
into confusion and broils; therefore I am as well pleased not to be
detected as you can be. [_Goes to the Door, then turns._] But before I
quit the room, I am irresistibly impelled to say--Mr. Bronzely! Lady
Mary! while you continue to ridicule all that is virtuous, estimable,
dignified, your vices most assuredly will plunge you into that very
disgrace----

      _Enter_ OLIVER, _and places the Piece of Cloth against_ SIR
      WILLIAM'S _Coat_.

_Oliver._ 'Tis as exact a match as ever was--it fits to a thread. Ha!
ha! ha!--Ha! ha! ha!

_Sir W._ Rascal!

_Mr. Bron._ Did not I entreat you to go to bed?

_Lady R._ Oh, this is the highest gratification I ever knew! My lord!
my lord! [_Calling._]

_Mr. Bron._ Hush, hush!--hold, for Heaven's sake.

_Oliver._ But mercy and goodness defend us! who would have thought of
this grave gentleman? Ha! ha! ha!--I can tell you what, sir; my lord
will be in a terrible passion with you. This house won't hold you
both; and I am sure I hate to make mischief.--Mum--I'll say nothing
about it. [_Clapping_ SIR WILLIAM _on the Shoulder_.] And so make
yourself easy.

_Mr. Bron._ [_On the other side of_ SIR WILLIAM.] Yes, make yourself
easy.

_Oliver._ A good servant should sometimes be a peacemaker--for my part,
I have faults of my own, and so, I dare say, has that gentleman--and so,
I dare say, has that gentlewoman. But of all the birds in the wood, how
came you to make up to my lady? ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

_Mr. Bron._ No jests--no jests. Mr. Mandred is my friend--my very good
friend--and he is not so much to blame as you think for.--Good night,
my dear sir.--Heaven bless you.--I thank you a thousand times.--Good
night.

      [_Shaking Hands with_ SIR WILLIAM, _and leading him towards
      the Door_.

_Sir W._ [_With steady Composure._] Good night.--Good night, Lady
Mary. [_Exit._

_Oliver._ Why, he never so much as once said he was obliged to me.

_Lady R._ I am sure, if you do not discover this to your master, I
will.

_Oliver._ Oh! as that old gentleman had not manners to say "Thank you
for your kindness," I'll go tell my lord directly. [_Exit._

_Mr. Bron._ [_Running after him._] No, no, no--stop, Oliver. He is
gone.

_Lady R._ What makes you thus anxious and concerned, Bronzely? Now,
may I suffer death if, till I came into this room, I did not think you
were the offender.

_Mr. Bron._ I! I indeed!--No, if I could have been tempted to offend
any woman in this house in a similar manner, it could have been none
but you. [_Bowing._]

_Lady R._ No, Bronzely, no; I have been too partial to you, to have
any remaining claims----Hark! don't I hear Lord Priory's voice in a
dreadful rage!

_Mr. Bron._ Then Oliver has informed him. What shall I do to prevent
mischief? Dear Lady Mary, as it is not proper for me to stay here any
longer uninvited, do you run and try to pacify my Lord Priory. Tell
him Mandred does not sleep here to-night; and in the morning you are
sure he will make an apology.

_Lady R._ I will do as you desire--but I know Mr. Mandred so well,
that I am sure he will not apologise. [_Exit._

_Mr. Bron._ Then I will for him. Early in the morning, I'll wait on
Lady Priory, and beg pardon in his name, without his knowing it. Yes,
I have got poor Mandred into a difficulty, and it is my duty to get
him out of it. And then, I shall not only serve him, but have one more
interview with that heavenly woman. [_Exit._




ACT THE THIRD.


SCENE I.

_An Apartment at_ MR. NORBERRY'S.

_Enter_ MR. BRONZELY, _followed by a_ SERVANT.


_Mr. Bron._ [_Looking at his Watch._] I am early, I know: but Lady
Priory is the only person I wish to see. Is my lord with her?

_Serv._ No, sir, Lord Priory sat up very late, and is yet in bed.

_Mr. Bron._ Acquaint Lady Priory, a person who comes on urgent
business, begs to speak with her. If she asks my name, you know it.
[_Exit_ SERVANT.] Pray Heaven she may bless me with her sight! Never
was so enchanted by a woman in my life!--and never played such a trick
in my life. I am half inflamed by love, and half by spite, once more
to attempt her.

      _Enter_ LADY PRIORY--_he bows most respectfully--she
      courtesies_.

_Mr. Bron._ Lady Priory, I come--I come upon rather an awkward, yet a
very serious business: it was my misfortune to be among that company
yesterday evening, where an unworthy member of it, had the insolence
to offer an affront to your resplendent virtue.

_Lady P._ I have some household accounts to arrange, and breakfast to
make for my lord as soon as he leaves his chamber: therefore, if you
please, sir, proceed to the business on which you came, without
thinking it necessary to interrupt it, by any compliment to me.

_Mr. Bron._ I will be concise, madam.--In a word, I wait upon you from
Mr. Mandred, with the most humble apology for his late conduct, which
he acknowledges to have been indecorous and unwarrantable: but he
trusts, that, in consequence of the concession which I now make for
him, the whole matter will, from this hour, be buried in oblivion.

_Lady P._ [_Going to the Side of the Scene, and speaking._] If my lord
be at leisure, tell him, here is a gentleman would be glad to speak
with him----[_To_ BRONZELY.] I am sorry, sir, you should know so
little of the rules of our family, as to suppose, that I could give an
answer upon any subject on which my husband condescends to be engaged.
[_Going._]

_Mr. Bron._ Lady Priory, stop. You can at least use your power to
soften Lord Priory's resentment; and unless this apology is accepted,
a challenge must follow, and possibly he may fall.

_Lady P._ Possibly. [_Sighing._]

_Mr. Bron._ You are interested for your husband's life?

_Lady P._ Certainly. But I set equal value on his reputation.
[_Going._]

_Mr. Bron._ Hear me one sentence more.--I cannot part from her.
[_Aside._] Oh, I have something of such importance to communicate to
you--and yet--I know not how!

_Lady P._ Then tell it to my husband.

_Mr. Bron._ Hem--hem. [_Aside._] Oh, Lady Priory, if the insult of
last night has given you offence, should you not wish to be informed
of a plan laid for yet greater violence? [_She starts._]

_Lady P._ Good Heaven!

_Mr. Bron._ This is neither time nor place to disclose what I wish to
say; nor do I know how to find an opportunity to speak with you alone,
free from the possibility of intrusion; where I could reveal a secret
to you, which is connected with your happiness--with your future
peace.

_Lady P._ You alarm me beyond expression! I am going to my own house
about twelve o'clock, for a couple of hours--follow me there.

_Mr. Bron._ And I shall be admitted?

_Lady P._ Certainly--for you have excited my curiosity, and I am all
impatience to hear what you have to communicate that so much concerns
me!

_Mr. Bron._ Promise, then, no person but yourself shall ever know of
it. [_She hesitates._] Unless you promise this, I dare not trust you.

_Lady P._ [_After a second Hesitation._] I do promise--I promise
faithfully.

_Mr. Bron._ Your word is sacred, I rely?

_Lady P._ Most sacred.

_Mr. Bron._ And you promise that no one but yourself shall know of the
appointment we have now made at your house, nor of the secret which I
will then disclose to you.

_Lady P._ I promise faithfully, that no one but myself shall ever know
of either.

_Mr. Bron._ Remember then to be there alone, precisely at--

_Lady P._ At one o'clock.

_Mr. Bron._ And that your servants have orders to show me to you.

_Lady P._ I am too much interested to forget a single circumstance.

_Mr. Bron._ Go now, then, to Lord Priory with Mandred's apology--and
urge his acceptance of it, with all that persuasion by which you are
formed to govern, while you appear to obey.

_Lady P._ I will present the apology as I received it from you; but
do not imagine I dare give my opinion upon it, unless I am desired.

_Mr. Bron._ But if you are desired, you will then say----

_Lady P._ Exactly what I think. [_Exit._

_Mr. Bron._ I'll do a meritorious act this very day. This poor woman
lives in slavery with her husband. I'll give her an opportunity to run
away from him. When we meet, I'll have a post chaise waiting a few
doors from her house; boldly tell her that I love her; and----

      _Enter_ MISS DORRILLON.

My dear Miss Dorrillon, I could not sleep all night, and am come thus
early on purpose to complain of your treatment of me during the whole
of yesterday evening. Not one look did you glance towards me--and
there I sat in miserable solitude up in one corner, the whole time of
the concert.

_Miss Dor._ I protest I did not see you!--and, stranger still!--never
thought of you.

_Mr. Bron._ You then like another better than you like me?

_Miss Dor._ I do.

_Mr. Bron._ Do you tell him so?

_Miss Dor._ No.

_Mr. Bron._ You tell him you like me the best.

_Miss Dor._ Yes.

_Mr. Bron._ Then I will believe what you say to him, and not what you
say to me.--And though you charge me with inconstancy, yet I swear to
you, my beloved Maria, [_Taking her Hand._] that no woman, no woman
but yourself----

      _Enter_ SIR WILLIAM, _and starts at seeing his Daughter in
      such close Conversation with_ BRONZELY.

_Sir W._ [_Aside._] How familiar!--my eyes could not be shocked with a
sight half so wounding to my heart as this!

_Mr. Bron._ [_Apart to_ MISS DORRILLON.] Hush! you have heard the
story; but don't laugh at him now. He is in a devilish ill humour, and
it will all fall on me. Go away.--It's a very good story, but laugh at
him another time.

_Miss Dor._ I don't believe a word of the story; yet, as a received
opinion, it is an excellent weapon for an enemy, and I long to use it.

_Mr. Bron._ Not now, not now--because I have some business with him,
and 'twill put him out of temper.

      [_He hands her to the Door.--Exit_ MISS DORRILLON.

_Sir W._ [_Looking steadfastly after her._] Poor girl! poor girl! I am
not yet so enraged against her, but that I compassionate her for her
choice!--Is this the man who is to be, for life, her companion, her
protector!

_Mr. Bron._ Well, Mr. Mandred, I believe, I have settled it.

_Sir W._ Settled what? [_Anxiously._]

_Mr. Bron._ At least I have done all in my power to serve you: perhaps
you don't know that Mr. Oliver divulged the whole affair. But I have
waited on my Lady Priory, and I do believe I have settled it with her,
to manage it so with my lord, that every thing shall be hushed up. You
may expect a few jests among your female acquaintance, and a few
epigrams in the news-papers; but I verily believe every thing material
is safe.--Is there any further satisfaction which you demand from me?

_Sir W._ Not at present--a man is easily satisfied who possesses both
courage and strength to do himself right, whenever he feels his wrongs
oppressive. I have as yet found but little inconvenience from the
liberties you have taken with me; and what, just at this time, far
more engages my attention than revenge, is, an application to you for
intelligence. Without further preface, do you pay your addresses to
the young lady who lives in this house?

_Mr. Bron._ Yes I do, sir--I do.

_Sir W._ You know, I suppose, which of the two ladies I mean?

_Mr. Bron._ Which ever you mean, sir, 'tis all the same; for I pay my
addresses to them both.

_Sir W._ [_Starting._] To them both?

_Mr. Bron._ I always do.

_Sir W._ And pray, which of them do you love?

_Mr. Bron._ Both, sir--upon my word, both--I assure you, both.

_Sir W._ But you don't intend to marry both?

_Mr. Bron._ I don't intend to marry either: and, indeed, the woman
whom I love best in the world, has a husband already. Do you suppose I
could confine my affections to Lady Mary, or Miss Dorrillon, after
Lady Priory appeared? do you suppose I did not know who it was I met
last night in the dark? wherever I visit, Mr. Mandred, I always make
love to every woman in the house: and I assure you, they expect it--I
assure you, sir, they all expect it.

      [SIR WILLIAM _walks about in anger_.

Have you any further commands for me?

_Sir W._ Yes, one word more.----And you really have no regard for this
girl who parted from you as I came in?

_Mr. Bron._ Oh yes, pardon me--I admire, I adore, I love her to
distraction: and if I had not been so long acquainted with Lady Mary,
nor had seen my Lady Priory last night, I should certainly call Sir
George Evelyn to an account, for being so perpetually with her.

_Sir W._ [_Anxiously._] Do you think he loves her?

_Mr. Bron._ Yes, I dare say as well as I do.

_Sir W._ Do you think she likes him?

_Mr. Bron._ I think she likes me.

_Sir W._ But, according to your method of affection, she may like him
too.

_Mr. Bron._ She may, she may.--In short, there is no answering for
what she likes--all whim and flightiness--acquainted with every
body--coquetting with every body--and in debt with every body. Her
mind distracted between the claims of lovers, and the claims of
creditors,--the anger of Mr. Norberry, and the want of intelligence
from her father.

_Sir W._ She is in a hopeful way!

_Mr. Bron._ Oh, it would be impossible to think of marrying her in her
present state--for my part, I can't--and I question whether Sir George
would.--But if her father come home, and give her the fortune that was
once expected, why, then I may possibly marry her myself.

_Sir W._ [_Firmly._] She will never have any fortune.--I came from
India, lately, you know; and you may take my word, her father is not
coming over, nor will he ever come.

_Mr. Bron._ Are you sure of that?

_Sir W._ Very sure.

_Mr. Bron._ Then keep it a secret--don't tell her so--poor thing! it
would break her heart. She is dotingly fond of her father.

_Sir W._ Hah! how!--oh no, she can have no remembrance of him.

_Mr. Bron._ Not of his person, perhaps: but he has constantly
corresponded with her--sent her presents, and affectionate
letters--and you know a woman's heart is easily impressed.

_Sir W._ I never heard her mention her father.

_Mr. Bron._ Not to you; but to us who are kind to her, she talks of
him continually. She cried bitterly the other day when the last ship
came home, and there was no account of him.

_Sir W._ Did she? did she? [_Eagerly._] Ay, I suppose she is alarmed
lest he should be dead, and all his riches lost.

_Mr. Bron._ No, I believe her affection for him is totally
unconnected with any interested views. I have watched her upon that
head, and I believe she loves her father sincerely.

_Sir W._ [_Wiping a Tear from his Eye._] I believe it does not matter
whom she loves.

_Mr. Bron._ By the by, she hates you.

_Sir W._ I thought so.

_Mr. Bron._ Yes, you may be satisfied of that. Yes, she even quarrelled
with me the other day for speaking in your favour: you had put her in
a passion, and she said, no one that loved _her_, ought to have any
respect for you.

_Sir W._ I am much obliged to her--very much obliged to her. Did she
say nothing more?

_Mr. Bron._ Only, that you were ill-natured, dogmatic, cruel, and
insolent. Nothing more.----And say what she will against you, you know
you can be even with her.

_Sir W._ Yes, I can be even with her, and I will be even with her.

      _Enter_ LORD PRIORY, _and takes_ BRONZELY _on one Side_.

_Lord P._ I have accepted this man's apology:--I will not call him to a
serious account; but he shall not escape every kind of resentment.--I
am resolved to laugh at him; to turn the whole affair into mirth and
good humour; at the same time to gall him to the heart. Good morning,
Mr. Mandred: how do you do this morning, Mr. Mandred?--Let me go,
[_Violently to_ BRONZELY.] I must joke with him.

_Mr. Bron._ But neither your voice nor your looks agree with your
words.

_Lord P._ Mr. Mandred, I did intend to be angry--but it would give too
respectable an air to a base action--and so I am come to laugh at
you.

      _Enter_ LADY RAFFLE.

And I am sure you, Lady Mary, will join even me, in laughing at this
man of gallantry.

_Lady R._ Oh, I am absolutely afraid to come near the Tarquin.

_Sir W._ You need not, Lady Mary; for there can be no Tarquin without
a Lucretia.

_Lord P._ However, Mr. Mandred, it is proper I should tell you, I
accept the apology you have made: but at the same time----

_Sir W._ [_Hastily._] What do you mean my lord? I have made no
apology.

_Mr. Bron._ Yes, yes, you have--I called and made one for you.

_Sir W._ Made an apology for me! You have just gone one step too far
then; and I insist----

_Mr. Bron._ [_Drawing_ SIR WILLIAM _on one Side_.] I will--I will--I
will set every thing to rights. It would be base in me if I did not; and
I will. [_Turns to_ LORD PRIORY _and_ LADY MARY.] Yes, Mr. Mandred, I
will retrieve your character at the expense of my own. I am more able to
contend with the phrenzy of a jealous husband than you are.

      _Enter_ MISS DORRILLON _and_ SIR GEORGE EVELYN.

I am happy to see you--you are just come in time to hear me clear the
grave, the respectable character of my friend Mr. Mandred, and to
stigmatise my own.--My lord, vent all your anger and your satire upon
me. It was I (pray believe me, I beg you will; don't doubt my word),
it was I who committed the offence, of which my friend, the man I
respect and reverence, stands accused--It was I who offended my Lady
Priory, and then----

_Lord P._ It cannot be--I won't be imposed upon.

_Lady R._ But how generous and noble in him to take it upon himself!

_Mr. Bron._ [_To_ SIR WILLIAM.] There! what can I do more? You see
they won't believe me!--Tell me what I can do more? Can I do any thing
more?--My feelings are wounded on your account, more than on my own,
and compel me, though reluctantly, to quit the room. [_Exit._

_Sir G._ I am at a loss which to admire most, the warmth of Mr.
Bronzely's friendship, or the coldness of Mr. Mandred's gratitude.

_Lady R._ Oh! if it were not for that happy steadiness of feature, he
could not preach rectitude of conduct as he does.

_Lord P._ [_Going up to_ SIR WILLIAM.] Eloquent admonisher of youth!

_Miss Dor._ [_Going to him._] Indeed, my rigid monitor, I cannot but
express admiration, that, under those austere looks, and that sullen
brow, there still should lurk----

_Sir W._ Have a care--don't proceed--stop where you are--dare not you
complete a sentence that is meant to mock me.----I have borne the
impertinence of this whole company with patience--with contempt; but
dare you to breathe an accent suspicious of my conduct, and I will
instantly teach you how to respect me, and to shrink with horror from
yourself.

      [_She stands motionless in Surprise._

_Lord P._ What a passion he is in! Compose yourself, Mr. Mandred.

_Miss Dor._ I protest, Mr. Mandred----

_Sir W._ Silence! [_Raising his Voice._] Dare not to address yourself
to me.

_Lady R._ Did you ever hear the like?--And I vow she looks awed by
him!

_Lord P._ How strange, that a man cannot command his temper!

_Sir G._ Mr. Mandred, permit me to say, I have ever wished to treat
you with respect--nor would I be rash in laying that wish aside.--Yet,
I must now take upon me to assure you, that if you think to offend
every lady in this house with impunity, you are mistaken.

_Sir W._ Sir George, if you mean to frighten me by your threats,
I laugh at you--but if your warmth is really kindled, and by an
attachment to that unworthy object, [_Pointing to_ MISS DORRILLON.]
I only pity you.

_Sir G._ Insufferable!--[_Going up to him._]--Instantly make an
atonement for what you have said, or expect the consequence!

_Sir W._ And pray, Sir George, what atonement does your justice
demand?

_Sir G._ Retract your words--Acknowledge you were grossly deceived,
when you said Miss Dorrillon was unworthy.

_Sir W._ Retract my words!

_Sir G._ Were they not unjust?--Is it a reproach, that, enveloped
in the maze of fashionable life, she has yet preserved her virtue
unsuspected? That, encumbered with the expenses consequent to her
situation, she has proudly disdained, even from me, the honourable
offer of pecuniary aid? That her fond hope still fixes on the return
of an absent parent, whose blessing she impatiently expects? and that
I, who have watched her whole conduct with an eye of scrutinizing
jealousy, have yet only beheld that, which makes me aspire, as the
summit of earthly happiness, to become her husband?

_Sir W._ Young man, I admire your warmth. [_With great Fervour and
Affection._] There is much compassion and benevolence, and charity, in
sometimes mistaking the vicious for the virtuous;--and if in the heat
of contention I have said a word reflecting on your character, I am
ready to avow my error; and, before this company, to beg your pardon.

_Sir G._ That is not enough, sir,--[_Taking_ MISS DORRILLON _by the
Hand, and leading her forward_.]--you must ask this lady's pardon.

      [SIR WILLIAM _starts, and turns his Face away, strongly
      impressed_.

_Sir W._ Ask her pardon! Though I forgive some insults, I will not
this.--Ask her pardon!--

_Miss Dor._ Nay, nay, Sir George, you have no business with Mr.
Mandred's quarrels and mine.--Reserve your heroic courage for some
nobler purpose than a poor woman's reputation.

_Sir G._ Point out a nobler, and I'll give up this.

_Lady R._ There is none so noble! And I wish, Sir George, you would
undertake to vindicate mine.

_Lord P._ Come, Lady Mary, let us retire, and leave these two
irritable men to themselves.

_Lady R._ Come, Maria, let us leave them alone. He'll teach Mr.
Mandred to be civil for the future.

_Miss Dor._ [_In great Agitation._] Dear Madam, I would not leave them
alone for the world!

_Lady R._ Then, my lord, you and I will; they have no offensive
weapons; so we may venture to leave them.

_Lord P._ This comes of being too warm in conversation! This comes of
being in a passion!

      [_Exeunt_ LORD PRIORY _and_ LADY MARY.

_Sir G._ While there is a female present, I have only to say----good
morning, Mr. Mandred. [_Going._]

_Miss Dor._ [_Catching hold of him._] For once I give up my pride
to soften yours. Come, do not look thus determined!--I am sure Mr.
Mandred did not mean to offend me; the words he made use of fell from
his lips by accident.

_Sir W._ They did not--I meant them--I mean them still--and I repeat
them.

_Miss Dor._ [_To_ SIR WILLIAM.] Now, how can you be so provoking?--Nay,
hold, Sir George, [_He offers to go._] you shall not go away with that
frowning brow. [_She draws him gently towards_ SIR WILLIAM; _then
takes_ SIR WILLIAM'S _Hand_.] Nor you, with that sullen aspect.--Come,
shake hands, for my sake.----Now, as I live, Sir George, Mr. Mandred's
hand feels warmer and kinder than yours--he tries to draw it back,
but he has not the heart. [SIR WILLIAM _snatches it away, as by
compulsion_.] Thou art a strange personage!--thou wilt not suffer me
either to praise, or to dispraise thee.--Come, Sir George, make up this
difference--for if you were to fight, and Mr. Mandred was to fall----

_Sir W._ What then?

_Miss Dor._ Why, "I could better spare a better man."

_Sir W._ How!

_Miss Dor._ I see you are both gloomy, both obstinate, and I have but
one resource.--Sir George, if you aspire to my hand, dare not to lift
yours against Mr. Mandred. He and I profess to be enemies: but if I
may judge of his feelings by my own, we have but passing enmities.--I
bear him no malice, nor he me, I dare be sworn. Therefore, sir, lift
but your arm against him, or insult him with another word, and our
intercourse is for ever at an end. [_Exit._

      [SIR GEORGE _and_ SIR WILLIAM _stand for some time silent_.

_Sir G._ Why is it in the power of one woman to make two men look
ridiculously?

_Sir W._ I am at a loss to know, sir, whether you and I part friends
or enemies.--However, call on me in the way you best like, and you
will find me ready to meet you, either as an enemy, or as a friend.

      [_Exeunt separately._




ACT THE FOURTH.


SCENE I.

_A Hall at_ LORD PRIORY'S.

_Two_ SERVANTS _discovered sitting--Another enters_.


1 _Serv._ Do you hear, Mr. Porter, you are to admit no person but Mr.
Bronzely.

2 _Serv._ Mr. Bronzely--very well--[_A loud rapping._]--and there I
suppose he is.

1 _Serv._ [_Looking through the Window._] Yes; that, I believe, is his
carriage.--[_To Third Servant._]--Let my lady know.

      [_Exit Third_ SERVANT.

      _Enter_ MR. BRONZELY.

_Mr. Bron._ You are sure Lady Priory is at home?

1 _Serv._ Yes, sir, and gave orders to admit nobody but you.

_Mr. Bron._ Has she been some time at home?

1 _Serv._ Yes, sir; I dare say my lady came from Mr. Norberry's half
an hour ago.

_Mr. Bron._ Waiting for me half an hour--[_Aside._]--Show me to her
instantly.

      [_Exit, following the_ SERVANT _hastily_.


[Illustration: Sir William hands Miss Dorrilon over to the bailiffs]


SCENE II.

_An Apartment at_ LORD PRIORY'S.

_Enter_ BRONZELY _and_ LADY PRIORY, _on opposite Sides_.


_Mr. Bron._ My dear Lady Priory, how kind you are, not to have
forgotten your promise.

_Lady P._ How was it possible I should? I have been so anxious for the
intelligence you have to communicate, that it was pain to wait till
the time arrived.

_Mr. Bron._ Thus invited, encouraged to speak, I will speak
boldly--and I call Heaven to witness, that what I am going to say----

_Lady P._ No, stay a moment longer--don't tell me just
yet--[_Listening towards the Side of the Scenes._]--for I wish him to
hear the very beginning.

_Mr. Bron._ Who, hear the very beginning?

      _Enter_ LORD PRIORY.--BRONZELY _starts_.

_Lord P._ I have not kept you waiting, I hope. My lawyer stopped
me on business, or I should have been here sooner.--My dear Mr.
Bronzely--[_Going up to him._]--I thank you a thousand times for the
interest you take in my concerns; and I come prepared with proper
coolness and composure, to hear the secret with which you are going
to intrust us.

_Mr. Bron._ The secret!--yes, sir--the secret which I was going to
disclose to my Lady Priory--Ha! ha! ha!--But my lord, I am afraid it
is of too frivolous a nature for your attention.

_Lord P._ I account nothing frivolous which concerns my wife.

_Mr. Bron._ Certainly, my lord, certainly not.

_Lord P._ Besides, she told me it was of the utmost importance. Did
not you? [_Angrily._]

_Lady P._ He said so.

_Mr. Bron._ And so it was--it was of importance then--just at the very
time I was speaking to Lady Priory on the subject.

_Lady P._ You said so but this very moment.

_Lord P._ Come, come, tell it immediately, whatever it is. Come, let
us hear it.--[_After waiting some time._] Why, sir, you look as if you
were ashamed of what you are going to say! What can be the meaning of
this?

_Mr. Bron._ To be plain, my lord, my secret will disclose the folly of
a person for whom I have a sincere regard.

_Lord P._ No matter--let every fool look like a fool, and every
villain be known for what he is--Tell your story.

_Lady P._ How can you deprive me of the pleasure you promised? You
said it would prevent every future care.

_Lord P._ Explain, sir.--I begin to feel myself not quite so composed
as I expected. You never, perhaps, saw me in a passion--she has--and
if you were once to see me really angry----

_Mr. Bron._ Then, my lord, I am apt to be passionate too--and I boldly
tell you, that what I had to reveal, though perfectly proper, was
meant for Lady Priory alone to hear. I entreated your ladyship not to
mention to my lord that I had any thing to communicate, and you gave
me a solemn promise you would not.

_Lady P._ Upon my honour, during our whole conversation upon that
subject, you never named my Lord Priory's name.

_Mr. Bron._ I charged you to keep what I had to tell you, a profound
secret.

_Lady P._ Yes; but I thought you understood I could have no secrets
from my husband.

_Mr. Bron._ You promised no one should know it but yourself.

_Lady P. He_ is myself.

_Lord P._ How, Mr. Bronzely, did you suppose she and I were two?
Perhaps you did, and that we wanted a third. Well, I quite forgive you
for your silly mistake, and laugh at you, ha! ha! ha! as I did at Mr.
Mandred.--[_Seriously._]--Did you suppose, sir, we lived like persons
of fashion of the modern time? Did you imagine that a woman of her
character could have a wish, a desire, even a thought, that was a
secret from her husband?

_Mr. Bron._ It is amazing to find so much fidelity the reward of
tyranny!

_Lady P._ Sir--I speak with humility--I would not wish to give
offence.--[_Timidly._]--But, to the best of my observation and
understanding, your sex, in respect to us, are all tyrants. I was born
to be the slave of some of you--I make the choice to obey my husband.

_Lord P._ Yes, Mr. Bronzely; and I believe it is more for her
happiness to be my slave, than your friend--to live in fear of me,
than in love with you. Lady Priory, leave the room. [_Exit_ LADY
PRIORY.] Do you see--did you observe the glow of truth and candour
which testifies that woman's faith? and do you not blush at having
attempted it?--Call me a tyrant! Where are the signs? Oh, if every
married man would follow my system in the management of his wife,
every impertinent lover would look just as foolish as you!

_Mr. Bron._ This is all boasting, my lord--you live in continual
fear--for (without meaning any offence to Lady Priory's honour) you
know you dare not trust her for one hour alone with any man under
sixty.

_Lord P._ I dare trust her at any time with a coxcomb.

_Mr. Bron._ That is declaring I am not one--for I am certain you dare
not leave her alone with me.

_Lord P._ [_In a Passion._] Yes, with fifty such.

_Mr. Bron._ But not with one--and you are right--it might be
dangerous.

_Lord P._ [_Angrily._] No, it would not.

_Mr. Bron._ [_Significantly._] Yes, it would.

_Lord P._ Have not you had a trial?

_Mr. Bron._ But you were present. You constantly follow all her steps,
watch all she says and does. But I believe you are right--wives are
not to be trusted.

_Lord P._ Mine is.

_Mr. Bron._ No, my dear Lord Priory, you must first become gentle,
before you can positively confide in her affection--before you can
trust her in a house, or in any place, alone.

_Lord P._ [_Hastily._] To prove you are mistaken, I'll instantly go
back to my friend Norberry's, and leave you here to tell her the
secret you boasted. Pay your addresses to her, if that be the
secret--you have my free consent.

_Mr. Bron._ My dear friend, I'll accept it.

_Lord P._ Ay, I see you have hopes of supplanting me, by calling me
your friend.--But can you conceive now that she'll listen to you?

_Mr. Bron._ You have given me leave to try, and can't recall it.

_Lord P._ But depend upon it, you will meet with some terrible
humiliation.

_Mr. Bron._ Either you or I shall.

_Lord P._ I shall laugh to hear you tumbled down stairs.

_Mr. Bron._ You are not to remain on the watch here; you are to return
to Mr. Norberry's.

_Lord P._ Was that the bargain?

_Mr. Bron._ Don't you remember? You said so.

_Lord P._ Well, if that will give you any satisfaction----

_Mr. Bron._ It will give me great satisfaction.

_Lord P._ Heaven forgive me, but your confidence makes me laugh. Ha!
ha! ha!

_Mr. Bron._ And yours makes me laugh. Ha! ha! ha!

      _Enter_ OLIVER.

_Lord P._ Hah! What brings you here, Oliver? Lady Priory and I are
only come home for a few hours.

_Oliver._ I know it, my lord. I thought nevertheless I might be
wanted.

_Mr. Bron._ And so you are, good Mr. Oliver. Your lord desires you to
conduct me to your lady in the next room, and acquaint her it is with
his permission I am come to conclude the conversation which was just
now interrupted.--Is not that right, my lord? Are not those words
exactly corresponding with your kind promise?

_Lord P._ I believe they are.

_Oliver._--I am "to take Mr. Bronzely to my lady, and tell her you
sent him." [_Exit_ OLIVER.

_Mr. Bron._ Now this is perfect fashion: and while I step to Lady
Priory, do you go and comfort my intended wife Lady Mary.

_Lord P._ I hate the fashion--and were I not sure you would now be
received in a very unfashionable manner----

_Mr. Bron._ No rough dealings, I hope?

_Lord P._ Oh, you begin to be afraid, do you?

_Mr. Bron._ No--but I have met with an accident or two lately--and I
am not so well acquainted with ancient usages as to know, in what
manner a man of my pursuits would have been treated in former times.

_Lord P._ A man of your pursuits, Mr. Bronzely, is of a very late
date; and to be shamed out of them by a wife like mine.

_Mr. Bron._ Then we shall all three be old-fashioned.

      [_Exit, following_ OLIVER.

_Lord P._ [_Returning and looking anxiously after_ BRONZELY.]
I am passionate--I am precipitate--I have no command over my
temper.--However, if a man cannot govern himself, yet he will never make
any very despicable figure, as long as he knows how to govern his wife.

      [_Exit, on the Opposite Side._


SCENE III.

SIR WILLIAM'S _Apartment at_ MR. NORBERRY'S.

_Several Trunks and travelling Boxes._--SIR WILLIAM _discovered,
packing Writings into a Portfolio_.


_Sir W._ And here is the end of my voyage to England!--a voyage, which,
for years, my mind had dwelt on with delight!--I pictured to myself a
daughter grown to womanhood, beautiful! and so she is.--Accomplished!
and so she is.--Virtuous! and so she is.--Am I of a discontented nature
then, that I am not satisfied?--Am I too nice?--Perhaps I am.--Soothing
thought!--I will for a moment cherish it, and dwell with some little
gratitude upon her late anxiety for my safety.

      [_He walks about in a thoughtful musing manner.--A loud
      thrusting and rapping is heard at his Chamber Door._

      _Enter_ MISS DORRILLON _hastily and in affright_.

_Miss Dor._ Oh, Mr. Mandred, I beg your pardon--I did not know this
was your apartment. But suffer me to lock the door: [_She locks it._]
and conceal me for a moment, for Heaven's sake.

_Sir W._ What's the matter? Why have you locked my door?

_Miss Dor._ [_Trembling._] I dare not tell you.

_Sir W._ I insist upon knowing.

_Miss Dor._ Why then--I am pursued by a----I cannot name the horrid
name----

_Nabson._ [_Without._] She went into this room.

_Miss Dor._ [_To_ SIR WILLIAM.] Go to the door, and say I did not.

_Sir W._ How!

_Nabson._ [_Without._] Please to open the door.

_Miss Dor._ Threaten to beat him if he won't go away.

_Sir W._ Give me the key, and let me see from whom you want to
fly.--[_Commanding._]--Give me the key.

_Miss Dor._ [_Collecting firmness._] I will not.

_Sir W._ [_Starting._] "Will not"----Will not, when I desire you!

_Miss Dor._ No--since you refuse me protection, I'll protect myself.

_Sir W._ But you had better not have made use of that expression to
me--you had better not. Recall it by giving me the key.

_Miss Dor._ If I do, will you let me conceal myself behind that
bookcase, and say I am not here?

_Sir W._ Utter a falsehood?

_Miss Dor._ I would for you.

      [_A hammering at the Door._

_Sir W._ They are breaking open the door.--Give me the key, I command
you.

_Miss Dor._ "Command me!" "Command me!" However there it is. [_Gives
it him._] And now, if you are a gentleman, give me up if you dare!

_Sir W._ "If I am a gentleman!" Hem, hem--"If I am a gentleman!" Dares
me too!

      [_Going slowly towards the Door._

_Miss Dor._ Yes. I have now thrown myself upon your protection: and if
you deliver me to my enemies----

_Sir W._ What enemies? What business have you with enemies?

_Miss Dor._ 'Tis they have business with me.

_Sir W._ [_To them without._] I am coming. The door shall be opened.

_Miss Dor._ [_Follows and lays hold of him._] Oh, for Heaven's sake,
have pity on me--they are merciless creditors--I shall be dragged to a
prison. Do not deliver me up--I am unfortunate--I am overwhelmed with
misfortunes--have compassion on me!

      [_She falls on her Knees._

_Sir W._ [_In great agitation._] Don't _kneel_ to me!--I don't mean
you to kneel to me!---What makes you think of kneeling to _me_?--I
must do my duty.

      [_He unlocks the Door._

      _Enter_ NABSON--MISS DORRILLON _steals behind a Bookcase_.

_Sir W._ What did you want, sir?

_Nabson._ A lady, that I have just this minute made my prisoner: but
she ran from me, and locked herself in here.

_Sir W._ [_With surprise._] Arrested a lady!

_Nabson._ Yes, sir; and if you mean to deny her being here, I must
make bold to search the room.

_Sir W._ Let me look at your credentials.--[_Takes the
Writ._]--"Elizabeth Dorrillon for six hundred pounds." Pray, sir, is
it customary to have female names on pieces of paper of this
denomination?

_Nabson._ Oh yes, sir, very customary. There are as many ladies who
will run into tradesmen's books, as there are gentlemen; and when one
goes to take the ladies, they are a thousand times more slippery to
catch than the men.

_Sir W._ Abominable!--Well, sir, your present prisoner shall not slip
through your hands, if I can prevent it. I scorn to defend a worthless
woman, as much as I should glory in preserving a good one: and I give
myself joy in being the instrument of your executing justice.--[_He goes
and leads_ MISS DORRILLON _from the place where she was concealed--she
casts down her Head_.]--What! do you droop? Do you tremble? You, who at
the ball to-night would have danced lightly, though your poor creditor
had been perishing with want! You, who never asked yourself if your
extravagance might not send an industrious father of a family to prison,
can you feel on the prospect of going thither yourself?

_Miss Dor._ For what cause am I the object of your perpetual
persecution?

_Nabson._ Lor! Madam, the gentleman means to bail you after all: I can
see it by his looks.

_Sir W._ How, rascal, dare you suppose, or imagine, or hint, such a
thing?

      [_Going up to him in Anger._

_Miss Dor._ That's right, beat him out of the house.

_Sir W._ No, madam, he shall not go out of the house without taking
you along with him. Punishment may effect in your disposition what
indulgence has no hope of producing.----There is your prisoner [_Handing
her over to him._] and you may take my word, that she will not be
released by me, or by any one: and it will be only adding to a debt she
can never pay, to take her to any house previous to a prison.

      [_With the Emotion of Resentment, yet deep Sorrow._

_Nabson._ Is that true, my lady?

_Miss Dor._ [_After a Pause._] Very true. I have but one friend--but
one relation in the world--and he is far away.

      [_Weeps._--SIR WILLIAM _wipes his Eyes_.

_Nabson._ More's the pity.

_Sir W._ No, sir, no--no pity at all--for if fewer fine ladies had
friends, we should have fewer examples of profligacy.

      [_She walks to the Door, then turns to_ SIR WILLIAM.

_Miss Dor._ I forgive you.

      [_Exit, followed by_ NABSON.

_Sir W._ [_Looking after her._] And perhaps I _could_ forgive you. But I
must not. No, this is justice--this is doing my duty--this is strength
of mind--this is fortitude--fortitude--fortitude.

      [_He walks proudly across the Room, then stops, takes out his
      Handkerchief, throws his Head into it, and is going off._]

      _Enter_ LADY RAFFLE--_a Man following at a distance_.

_Lady R._ Mr. Mandred, Mr. Mandred! [_He turns._] Sir--Mr.
Mandred--Sir--[_In a supplicating Tone._] I presume--I presume,
sir----

_Sir W._ What, madam? what?

_Lady R._ I came, sir, to request a favour of you.

_Sir W._ So it should seem, by that novel deportment.

_Lady R._ If you would for once consider with lenity, the frailty
incidental to a woman who lives in the gay world----

_Sir W._ Well, madam!

_Lady R._ How much she is led away by the temptation of fine clothes,
fine coaches, and fine things.

_Sir W._ Come, to the business.

_Lady R._ You are rich, we all know, though you endeavour to disguise
the truth.

_Sir W._ I can't stay to hear you, if you don't proceed.

_Lady R._ My request is--save from the dreadful horrors of a gaol, a
woman who has no friend near her--a woman who may have inadvertently
offended you, but who never----

_Sir W._ 'Tis in vain for you to plead on her account--she knows my
sentiments upon her conduct--she knows the opinion I have formed of
her; and you cannot prevail on me to change it.

_Lady R._ Do you suppose I come to plead for Miss Dorrillon?

_Sir W._ Certainly.

_Lady R._ No, I am pleading for myself. I am unfortunately involved
in similar circumstances--I have a similar debt to the self-same
tradesman, and we are both at present in the self-same predicament.

_Sir W._ And upon what pretence did you suppose I would be indulgent
to you, more than to her?

_Lady R._ Because you have always treated me with less severity; and
because I overheard you just now say, you "should glory in delivering
from difficulty a good woman."

_Sir W._ And so I should.

_Lady R._ How unlike the world!

_Sir W._ No--whatever the discontented may please to say, the world is
affectionate, is generous, to the good; more especially to the good of
the female sex; for it is only an exception to a general rule, when a
good woman is in pecuniary distress.

      [_Exit_ SIR WILLIAM.

      _Enter_ LORD PRIORY, _humming a tune, but with a very
      serious face: he pulls out his Watch, with evident marks of
      anxiety--coughs--rubs his forehead--and gives various other
      marks of discontent and agitation_.--LADY RAFFLE _observes
      him with attention, then sidles up to him_.

_Lady R._ By the good humour you appear in, my lord, I venture to
mention to you my distresses. I know the virtues of Lady Priory make
my failings conspicuous; but then consider the different modes to
which we have been habituated--she excluded from temptation----

_Lord P._ No--she shuns temptation. Has she not in this very house
been compelled to make exertions? Has she not detected and exposed
both Mr. Mandred and Mr. Bronzely?

_Lady R._ Bronzely! Bronzely! How! [_Aside._] Another rival?

_Lord P._ She has not done with _him_ yet, I believe; for, to tell
the truth, he is now with her at my house in Park Street. He taxed me
with being jealous of my wife--to prove in what contempt I held the
accusation, I left them together, and bid him make love to her.

_Lady R._ Is that possible?

_Lord P._ I can't say I would have done so rash an action, had I been
married to some women--to you, for instance----but I have not a doubt of
Lady Priory's safety: her mind, I know, is secure, and I have servants
in the house to protect her from personal outrage. The only fear is,
lest he should have received one; for 'tis now near two hours [_Looking
at his Watch._] since I came away, and I have neither seen nor heard any
thing of either of them!--But to your Ladyship's concerns.

_Lady R._ I am at this instant, my lord, in the power of an implacable
creditor: and unless some friend will give bond for a certain sum, I
must--I blush to name it--be taken to a prison.

_Lord P._ I am not at all surprised at the circumstance, madam: but
it amazes me that you should apply to me for deliverance. You have a
brother in town; why not send to him?

_Lady R._ He was my friend the very last time a distress of this kind
befell me. [_Weeps._

_Lord P._ Ask Mr. Norberry.

_Lady R._ He was my friend the time before.

_Lord P._ Mr. Bronzely, then.

_Lady R._ And Bronzely the time before that.

      _Enter_ OLIVER.

_Lord P._ Ah, Oliver! I am glad to see you, my good fellow. Ah! what
have you done with Mr. Bronzely?

_Oliver._ Nay, my lord, that I can't tell. I can't tell what he has
done with himself.

_Lord P._ How long has he been gone from my house?

_Oliver._ He is not gone yet, as I know of; for none of the servants
let him out.

_Lord P._ Not gone! and you can't tell where he is!

_Oliver._ No, that we can't: we have looked in every room for him, and
can't find him any where.

_Lord P._ Not find him! [_Recollecting himself._] Ho! ho! I thought
how it would be--I thought he'd have some trick played him. Where's
your lady?

_Oliver._ That I can't tell neither. We have looked in every room, and
can't find _her_.

_Lord P._ How!

_Oliver._ 'Tis as sure as I am alive. I and the butler, two footmen,
and all the maids have been looking in parlours, chambers, and garrets,
every crick and corner, and no where can we find either Mr. Bronzely or
my lady: but, wherever they are, there's no doubt but they are together.
Ha! ha!

_Lady R._ No doubt at all, Mr. Oliver.

_Lord P._ Together! together! and not in my house! You tell a
falsehood. I'll go myself and find them.

_Oliver._ You must look sharp, then.

_Lord P._ How came you to miss them?

_Oliver._ I chanced to go into the next room, to see if there was a
proper fire to get it well aired; I knew I had taken Mr. Bronzely to
my lady in the inner room, and I had heard them both laughing not a
quarter of an hour before; but now, all on a sudden, there was neither
laughing nor talking, nor any noise at all--every thing was quiet.

_Lord P._ [_Anxiously._] Well!

_Oliver._ And so I thought to myself, thought I, I'll sit down here;
for my lady will be ringing soon: however, there was no ringing for a
whole half hour; and so then I thought I would e'en rap at the door;
but nobody called "Come in." So then I went in of my own accord; and
there I found----

_Lord P._ What?

_Oliver._ Nobody! not a soul to be seen!

_Lord P._ [_Affecting indifference._] Oh! she has been playing
Bronzely some trick! She has been hiding him; and in some miserable
place!

_Oliver._ But why need she hide herself along with him?

      _Enter_ MR. NORBERRY.

_Mr. Nor._ My dear friend, my dear Lord Priory, let me speak with you
alone.--I come upon business that----

_Lord P._ You look pale! What is your business? Tell it me at once.

_Mr. Nor._ It is of so delicate a nature----

_Lord P._ I know my wife is with Mr. Bronzely--I left them together. I
know he is a depraved man; but I know she is an innocent woman.--Now,
what have you to tell me?

_Mr. Nor._ What I have just learnt from one of your servants. About a
quarter of an hour after you left them, they stole softly out at the
back of your house, ran to a post-chaise and four that was in waiting,
and drove off together full speed.

_Lord P._ Gone! eloped! run away from me! left me! left the tenderest,
kindest, most indulgent husband, that ever woman had!

_Lady R._ That we can all witness.

_Lord P._ I was too fond of her--my affection ruined her--women are
ungrateful--I did not exert a husband's authority--I was not strict
enough--I humoured and spoiled her!--Bless me! what a thick mist is
come over my eyes!

_Lady R._ No, my lord, it is clearing away.

_Lord P._ Lead me to my room.

      [_He is led off by_ MR. NORBERRY, _exhausted with grief and
      anger_.--OLIVER _looks after_ LORD PRIORY, _then takes out
      his Handkerchief, and follows him off, crying_.

_Lady R._ Ha! ha! ha! Oh, how I enjoy this distress! Ha! ha! ha!

      [_The_ OFFICER _who has attended her during the Scene, and
      kept at the further part of the Stage, now comes forward,
      and bows to her. She starts on seeing him--takes out her
      Handkerchief, and goes crying off at the opposite Side, he
      following._




ACT THE FIFTH.


SCENE I.

_An Apartment at_ MR. BRONZELY'S.

_Enter_ HOUSEKEEPER _and_ FOOTMAN.


_House._ Dinner enough for twelve, and only two to sit down to it!
Come home without one preparation--not a bed aired, or the furniture
uncovered.

_Foot._ This is not the first time he has done so.

_House._ No: for 'tis always thus when a woman's in the case. Well, I
do say that my own sex are--

_Foot._ Hush! here they are. Run away. [_Exeunt._

      _Enter_ LADY PRIORY _and_ MR. BRONZELY.

_Lady P._ Only twelve miles from London?

_Mr. Bron._ No more, be assured.

_Lady P._ And you avow that I did not come hither by the commands of
my husband, but was deceived into that belief by you.

_Mr. Bron._ Still it was by his commands your servant introduced me to
you; and, upon an errand, which I feared to deliver till I arrived at
a house of my own.

_Lady P._ What is the errand?

_Mr. Bron._ To tell you that----I love you.

_Lady P._ Do you assert, Lord Priory sent you to me for this?

_Mr. Bron._ I assert, that, in triumph at your betraying to him our
private appointment, he gave me leave to have a second trial. If, then,
you have ever harboured one wish to revenge, and forsake a churlish
ungrateful partner, never return to him more--but remain with me.

_Lady P._ And what shall I have gained by the exchange, when you become
churlish, when you become ungrateful? My children's shame! the world's
contempt! and yours! [_Smiling._] Come, come; you are but jesting, Mr.
Bronzely! You would not affront my little share of common sense, by
making the serious offer of so bad a bargain. Come, own the jest, and
take me home immediately.

_Mr. Bron._ Is it impossible for me to excite your tenderness?

_Lady P._ Utterly impossible.

_Mr. Bron._ I will then rouse your terror.

_Lady P._ Even that I defy.

_Mr. Bron._ Lady Priory, you are in a lonely house of mine, where I am
sole master, and all the servants slaves to my will.

      [LADY PRIORY _calmly takes out her Knitting, draws a Chair,
      and sits down to knit_.

_Mr. Bron._ [_Aside._] This composure is worse than reproach--a woman
who meant to yield would be outrageous.--[_Goes to speak to her, then
turns away._] By Heaven she looks so respectable in that employment, I
am afraid to insult her. [_After a struggle with himself._] Ah! do not
you fear me?

_Lady P._ No--for _your_ fears will protect me--I have no occasion for
mine.

_Mr. Bron._ What have I to fear?

_Lady P._ You fear to lounge no more at routs, at balls, at operas,
and in Bond Street; no more to dance in circles, chat in side-boxes,
or roar at taverns: for you have observed enough upon the events of
life to know--that an atrocious offence, like violence to a woman,
never escapes condign punishment.

_Mr. Bron._ Oh! for once let your mind be feminine as your
person--hear the vows----

      [_He seizes her Hand--she rises--he starts back._

_Lady P._ Ah! did not I tell you, you were afraid? 'Tis you who are
afraid of me. [_He looks abashed._] Come, you are ashamed, too--I see
you are, and I pardon you.--In requital, suffer me to return home
immediately. [_He shakes his Head._]----How! are not you ashamed to
detain me here?

_Mr. Bron._ I was not this moment--But now you urge the subject, I
think I am.

_Lady P._ Repent your folly, then, and take me home. [_Hastily._

_Mr. Bron._ Can you wish to go back to the man who has made this trial
of your fidelity, and not resent his conduct?

_Lady P._ Most assuredly I wish to return. But if you deliver me safe,
perfectly safe, from further insult, it will be impossible for me not
to show resentment to Lord Priory.

_Mr. Bron._ Why only in that case?

_Lady P._ Because, only in that case, you will make an impression on
my heart--and I will resent his having exposed me to such a
temptation.

_Mr. Bron._ Oh! I'll take you home directly--this moment--Any
thing, any sacrifice to make an impression on your heart.
William!--[_Calling._]--I'll take you home directly. Here, John,
Thomas, William--[_Calling._] But, upon my life, it will be a hard
task--I cannot do it--I am afraid--I am afraid I cannot.--Besides, what
are we to say when we go back?--No matter what, so you will but think
kindly of me.

      _Enter_ SERVANT.

Order the horses to be put to the chaise; I am going back to London
immediately. Quick! quick! Bid the man not be a moment, for fear I
should change my mind.

_Serv._ The chaise is ready now, sir; for the post boy was going back
without unharnessing his horses.

_Mr. Bron._ Then tell him he must perform his journey in half an
hour--If he is a moment longer, my resolution will stop on the road.
[_Exit_ SERVANT.] I feel my good designs stealing away already--now they
are flying rapidly. [_Taking_ LADY PRIORY'S _Hand_.]--Please to look
another way--I shall certainly recant if I see you. [_Going._]--And now,
should I have the resolution to take you straight to your husband, you
will have made a more contemptible figure of me by this last act, than
by any one you have led me to.

      [_Exit, leading her off._

_Mr. Bron._ [_Without._] Tell the post boy he need not wait--I have
changed my mind--I shall not go to London to-night.


SCENE II.

_A Room in a Prison._

_Enter_ MISS DORRILLON _and_ MR. NORBERRY.


_Mr. Nor._ You ought to have known it was vain to send for me. Have not
I repeatedly declared, that, till I heard from your father, you should
receive nothing more from me than a bare subsistence?--I promise to
allow you thus much, even in this miserable place: but do not indulge
a hope that I can release you from it. [_She weeps--he goes to the
Door--then returns._] I forgot to mention, that Mr. Mandred goes
on board to-morrow, for India; and, little as you may think of his
sensibility, he seems concerned at the thought of quitting England in
resentment, without just bidding you a parting farewell. He came with
me hither--shall I send him up?

_Miss Dor._ Oh, no! for Heaven's sake! Deliver me from his asperity,
as you would save me from distraction.

_Mr. Nor._ Nay, 'tis for the last time--you had better see him. You
may be sorry, perhaps, you did not, when he is gone.

_Miss Dor._ No, no: I sha'n't be sorry.--Go, and excuse me--Go, and
prevent his coming. I cannot see him.--[_Exit_ MR. NORBERRY.]--This
would be aggravation of punishment, to shut me in a prison, and yet
not shelter me from the insults of the world!

      _Enter_ SIR WILLIAM.--_She starts._

_Sir W._ I know you have desired not to be troubled with my visit; and
I come with all humility----I do not come, be assured, to reproach
you.

_Miss Dor._ Unexpected mercy!

_Sir W._ No; though I have watched your course with anger, yet I do
not behold its end with triumph.

_Miss Dor._ It is not to your honour, that you think necessary to give
this statement of your mind.

_Sir W._ May be----but I never boasted of perfection, though I can
boast of grief that I am so far beneath it. I can boast too, that,
though I frequently give offence to others, I could never part with
any one for ever (as I now shall with you), without endeavouring to
make some atonement.

_Miss Dor._ You acknowledge, then, your cruelty to me?

_Sir W._ I acknowledge I have taken upon me to advise, beyond the
liberty allowed, by custom, to one who has no apparent interest or
authority.----But, not to repeat what is passed; I come with the
approbation of your friend Mr. Norberry, to make a proposal to you
for the future.

      [_He draws Chairs, and they sit._

_Miss Dor._ What proposal?--What is it? [_Eagerly._]

_Sir W._ Mr. Norberry will not give either his money or his word to
release you.--But as I am rich--have lost my only child--and wish to
do some good with my fortune, I will instantly lay down the money of
which you are in want, upon certain conditions.

_Miss Dor._ Do I hear right? Is it possible I can find a friend in
you!--a friend to relieve me from the depth of misery! Oh, Mr.
Mandred!

_Sir W._ Before you return thanks, hear the conditions on which I make
my offer.

_Miss Dor._ Any conditions--What you please!

_Sir W._ You must promise, solemnly promise, never to return to your
former follies and extravagancies. [_She looks down._] Do you
hesitate? Do you refuse?--Won't you promise?

_Miss Dor._ I would, willingly--but for one reason.

_Sir W._ And what is that?

_Miss Dor._ The fear, I should not keep my word.

_Sir W._ You will, if your fear be real.

_Miss Dor._ It is real--it is even so great, that I have no hope.

_Sir W._ You refuse my offer, then, and dismiss me? [_Rises._]

_Miss Dor._ [_Rising also._] With much reluctance.--But I
cannot,--indeed I cannot make a promise, unless I were to feel my
heart wholly subdued; and my mind entirely convinced that I should
never break it.--Sir, I am most sincerely obliged to you for the good
which I am sure you designed me; but do not tempt me with the proposal
again--do not place me in a situation, that might add to all my other
afflictions, the remorse of having deceived you.

_Sir W._ [_After a Pause._] Well, I will dispense with this
condition--but there is another I must substitute in its
stead.--Resolve to pass the remainder of your life, some few ensuing
years at least, in the country. [_She starts._] Do you start at that?

_Miss Dor._ I do not love the country. I am always miserable while I
am from London. Besides, there are no follies or extravagancies in the
country.--Dear sir, this is giving me up the first condition, and then
forcing me to keep it by the second.

_Sir W._ There, madam, [_Taking out his Pocket-book._] I scorn to hold
out hopes, and then destroy them. There is a thousand pounds free of all
constraint--[_She takes it._]--extricate yourself from this situation,
and be your own mistress to return to it when you please. [_Going._]

_Miss Dor._ Oh, my benefactor! bid me farewell at parting--do not
leave me in anger.

_Sir W._ How! will you dictate terms to me, while you reject all mine?

_Miss Dor._ Then only suffer me to express my gratitude--

_Sir W._ I will not hear you. [_Going._]

_Miss Dor._ Hear me then on another subject: a subject of much
importance--indeed it is.

_Sir W._ Well!

_Miss Dor._ You are going to India immediately--it is possible that
there, or at some place where you will land on your way, you may meet
with my father.

_Sir W._ Well!

_Miss Dor._ You have heard that I have expected him home for some time
past, and that I still live in hopes----

_Sir W._ Well! [_Anxiously._]

_Miss Dor._ If you should see him, and should be in his company--don't
mention me.

_Sir W._ Not mention you!

_Miss Dor._ At least, not my indiscretions----Oh! I should die, if I
thought he would ever know of them.

_Sir W._ Do you think he would not discover them himself, should he
ever see you?

_Miss Dor._ But he would not discover them all at once--I should
be on my guard when he first came--My ill habits would steal on him
progressively, and not be half so shocking, as if you were to vociferate
them all in a breath.

_Sir W._ To put you out of apprehension at once--your father is not
coming home--nor will he ever return to his own country.

_Miss Dor._ [_Starting._] You seem to speak from certain
knowledge--Oh, Heavens! is he not living?

_Sir W._ Yes, living--but under severe affliction--fortune has
changed, and all his hopes are blasted.

_Miss Dor._ Fortune changed!--in poverty!--my father in
poverty?--[_Weeping._]--Oh, sir! excuse what may, perhaps, appear an ill
compliment to your bounty; but to me, the greatest reverence I can pay
to it.--You are going to that part of the world where he is; take this
precious gift back, search out my father, and let him be the object of
your beneficence.--[_Forces the Bank Note into his Hand._]--I shall be
happy in this prison, indeed, I shall, so I can but give a momentary
relief to my dear, dear father.--[SIR WILLIAM _takes out his
Handkerchief_.]--You weep!--This present, possibly may be but poor
alleviation of his sufferings--perhaps he is in sickness; or perhaps a
prisoner! Oh! if he is, release me instantly, and take me with you to
the place of his confinement.

_Sir W._ What! quit the joys of London?

_Miss Dor._ On such an errand, I would quit them all without a
sigh--and here I make a solemn promise to you----[_Kneeling._]

_Sir W._ Hold, you may wish to break it.

_Miss Dor._ Never--exact what vow you will on this occasion, I will
make and keep it.

      _Enter_ MR. NORBERRY.--_She rises._

----Oh, Mr. Norberry! he has been telling me such things of my
father----

_Mr. Nor._ Has he? Then kneel again--call _him_ by that name--and
implore him not to disown you for his child.

_Miss Dor._ Good Heaven!--I dare not--I dare not do as you require.

      [_She faints on_ NORBERRY.

_Sir W._ [_Going to her._] My daughter!--my child!

_Mr. Nor._ At those names she revives.--[_She raises her Head, but
expresses great Agitation._]--Come, let us quit this wretched
place--she will be better then. My carriage is at the door. You will
follow us?

      [_Exit, leading off_ MISS DORRILLON.

_Sir W._ Follow you!--Yes--and I perceive that, in spite of
philosophy, justice, or resolution, I would follow you all the world
over. [_Exit._


SCENE III.

_Another Room in the Prison._

LADY RAFFLE _discovered sitting in a dejected Posture_.


_Lady R._ Provoking! not an answer to one of my pathetic letters!--not
a creature to come and condole with me!--Oh that I could but regain my
liberty before my disgrace is announced in the public prints!--I could
then boldly contradict every paragraph that asserted it--by--_We have
authority to say, no such event ever took place._

      _Enter a Man belonging to the Prison._

_Man._ One Sir George Evelyn is here, madam; he will not name your
name, because it sha'n't be made public; but he desires you will
permit him to come and speak a few words to you, provided you are the
young lady from Grosvenor Street, with whom he has the pleasure of
being acquainted.

_Lady R._ Yes, yes, I am the young lady from Grosvenor Street--my
compliments to Sir George, I am that lady--intimately acquainted with
him; and intreat he will walk up. [_Exit the_ MAN.] This is a most
fortunate incident in my tragedy! Sir George no doubt takes me for
Miss Dorrillon; yet I am sure he is too much the man of gallantry and
good breeding to leave me in this place, although he visits me by
mistake.

      _Enter_ SIR GEORGE EVELYN, _speaking as he enters_.

_Sir G._ Madam, you are free--the doors of the prison are open--my
word is passed for the----

      [_He stops,--looks around--expresses Surprise and
      Confusion._]

_Lady R._ [_Courtesying very low._] Sir George, I am under the most
infinite obligation!--Words are too poor to convey the sense I have of
this act of friendship--but I trust my gratitude will for ever----

_Sir G._ [_Confused._] Madam--really--I ought to apologize for the
liberty I have taken.

_Lady R._ No liberty at all, Sir George--at least no apology is
necessary--I insist on hearing no excuses. A virtuous action requires
no preface, no prologue, no ceremony--and surely, if one action be
more noble and generous than another, it must be that one, where an
act of benevolence is conferred, and the object, an object of total
indifference to the liberal benefactor.--Generous man, good
evening.--Call me a coach. [_Going._]

_Sir G._ Stay, madam--I beg leave to say----

_Lady R._ Not a word--I won't hear a word--my thanks shall drown
whatever you have to say.

      _Enter the former_ MAN.

_Sir G._ Pray, sir, did not you tell me, you had a very young lady
under your care?

_Man._ Yes, sir, so I had--but she, it seems, has just been released,
and is gone away with the gentleman who paid the debt.

_Lady R._ Do you mean Miss Dorrillon?

_Man._ I mean the other lady from Grosvenor Street.

_Sir G._ Who can have released her?

_Lady R._ Some friend of mine, I dare say, by mistake.--Well, if it be
so, she is extremely welcome to the good fortune which was designed
for me. For my part, I could not submit to an obligation from every
one--scarcely from any one--and from no one with so little regret as I
submit to it from Sir George Evelyn.


      [_Exit, courtesying to_ SIR GEORGE.

_Sir G._ Distraction! the first disappointment is nothing to this
last! to the reflection, that Miss Dorrillon has been set at liberty
by any man on earth except myself. [_Exit._


SCENE IV.

_An Apartment at_ MR. NORBERRY'S.

_Enter_ LORD PRIORY.


_Lord P._ What a situation is mine! I cannot bear solitude, and am
ashamed to see company! I cannot bear to think on the ungrateful
woman, and yet I can think on nothing else! It was her conduct which I
imagined had alone charmed me; but I perceive her power over my heart,
though that conduct be changed!

      _Enter_ MR. NORBERRY, SIR WILLIAM _and_ MISS DORRILLON.

_Mr. Nor._ My dear Lord Priory, exert your spirits to receive and
congratulate a friend of mine. Sir William Dorrillon, [_Presenting
him._] father to this young woman, whose failings he has endeavoured
to correct under the borrowed name of Mandred.

_Sir W._ And with that fictitious name, I hope to disburden myself of
the imputation of having ever offered an affront to my Lord Priory.

      [_He takes_ LORD PRIORY _aside, and they talk together_.

      _Enter_ _Sir George Evelyn_.

_Sir G._ Is it possible what I have heard can be true? Is it Mr. Mandred
who has restored Miss Dorrillon to the protection of Mr. Norberry?

_Sir W._ [_Coming forward._] No, Sir George; I have now taken her
under my own protection.

_Sir G._ By what title, sir?

_Sir W._ A very tender one--don't be alarmed--I am her father.

_Sir G._ Sir William Dorrillon? [_They talk apart._

      _Enter_ LADY RAFFLE.

_Lady R._ Has there been any intelligence of my Lady Priory yet?
[_Sees_ MISS DORRILLON.] My dear Dorrillon, a lover of yours has done
the civilest thing by me!--As I live, here he is. How do you do, Sir
George? I suppose you have all heard the news of Bronzely running away
with----

_Miss Dor._ Hush!--Lord Priory is here.

_Lady R._ Oh, he knows it--and it is not improper to remind him of
it--it will teach him humility.

_Lord P._ I _am_ humble, Lady Mary; and own I have had a better
opinion of your sex than I ought to have had.

_Lady R._ You mean, of your management of us; of your instructions,
restrictions, and corrections.

      _Enter_ SERVANT.

_Serv._ Lady Priory and Mr. Bronzely.

_Lady R._ What of them?

_Serv._ They are here.

_Lord P._ I said she'd preserve her fidelity! Did not I always say so?
Have I wavered once? Did I not always tell you, that she was only making
scoff of Bronzely? Did I not tell you all so?

      _Enter_ BRONZELY _and_ LADY PRIORY.

_Mr. Bron._ Then, indeed, my lord, you said truly; for I return the
arrantest blockhead----

_Lord P._ I always said you would; but how is it? Where have you been?
What occasion for a post-chaise? Instantly explain, or I shall forfeit
that dignity of a husband, to which, in these degenerate times, I have
almost an exclusive right.

_Mr. Bron._ To reinstate you, my lord, in those honours, I accompany
Lady Priory; and beg public pardon for the opinion I once publicly
professed, of your want of influence over her affections.

_Lord P._ Do you hear? Do you hear? Lady Mary, do you hear?

_Mr. Bron._ Taking advantage of your permission to call on her, by
stratagem I induced her to quit your house, lest restraint might there
act as my enemy. But your authority, your prerogative, your honour,
attached to her under my roof. She has held those rights sacred, and
compelled even me to revere them.

_Lord P._ Do you all hear? I was sure it would turn out so!

_Lady R._ This is the first time I ever knew a woman's honour
vindicated by the good word of her gallant.

_Lord P._ I will take her own word--the tongue which, for eleven years,
has never in the slightest instance deceived me, I will believe upon all
occasions. My dear wife, boldly pronounce, before this company, that you
return to me with the same affection and respect, and the self-same
contempt for this man--[_To_ BRONZELY]--you ever had.

      [_A short Pause._]

_Lady R._ She makes no answer.

_Lord P._ Hush! hush! She is going to speak.--[_Another Pause._]--Why,
why don't you speak?

_Lady P._ Because I am at a loss what to say.

_Lady R._ Hear, hear, hear--do you all hear?

_Lord P._ Can you be at a loss to declare you hate Mr. Bronzely?

_Lady P._ I do _not_ hate him.

_Lady R._ I was sure it would turn out so.

_Lord P._ Can you be at a loss to say you love me?

      [_She appears embarrassed._

_Lady R._ She _is_ at a loss.

_Lord P._ How? Don't you fear me?

_Lady P._ Yes.

_Lady R._ She speaks plainly to that question.

_Lord P._ You know I love truth--speak plainly to all their curiosity
requires.

_Lady P._ Since you command it then, my lord--I confess that Mr.
Bronzely's conduct towards me has caused a sentiment in my heart----

_Lord P._ How! What?

_Lady R._ You must believe her--"she has told you truth for eleven
years."

_Lady P._ A sensation which----

_Lord P._ Stop--any truth but this I could have borne.--Reflect on
what you are saying--Consider what you are doing--Are these your
primitive manners?

_Lady P._ I should have continued those manners, had I known none
but primitive men. But to preserve ancient austerity, while, by my
husband's consent, I am assailed by modern gallantry, would be the
task of a stoic, and not of his female slave.

_Lady R._ Do you hear? Do you all hear? My lord, do _you_ hear?

_Lord P._ I do--I do--and though the sound distracts me, I cannot
doubt her word.

_Lady P._ It gives me excessive joy to hear you say so: because you
will not then doubt me when I add--that gratitude, for his restoring
me so soon to you, is the only sentiment he has inspired.

_Lord P._ Then my management of a wife is right after all!

_Mr. Nor._ Mr. Bronzely, as your present behaviour has in great
measure atoned for your former actions, I will introduce to your
acquaintance, my friend Sir William Dorrillon.

_Mr. Bron._ Mandred Sir William Dorrillon!

_Sir W._ And considering, sir, that upon one or two occasions I have
been honoured with your confidence--you will not be surprised, if the
first command I lay upon my daughter, is--to take refuge from your
pursuits, in the protection of Sir George Evelyn.

_Sir G._ And may I hope, Maria?----

_Miss Dor._ No--I will instantly put an end to all your hopes.

_Sir G._ How!

_Sir W._ By raising you to the summit of your wishes. Alarmed at my
severity, she has owned her readiness to become the subject of a
milder government.

_Sir G._ She shall never repine at the election she has made.

_Lord P._ But, Sir George, if you are a prudent man, you will fix your
eyes on my little domestic state, and guard against a rebellion.

_Lady P._ Not all the rigour of its laws has ever induced me to wish
them abolished.

_Mr. Bron._ [_To_ LADY PRIORY.] Dear lady, you have made me think
with reverence on the matrimonial compact: and I demand of you, Lady
Mary--if, in consequence of former overtures, I should establish a legal
authority over you, and become your chief magistrate--would you submit
to the same control to which Lady Priory submits?

_Lady R._ Any control, rather than have no chief magistrate at all.

_Sir G._ [_To_ MISS DORRILLON.] And what do you say to this?

_Miss Dor._ Simply one sentence.--A maid of the present day, shall
become a wife like those--of former times.


THE END.




TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE


Contemporary spellings have generally been retained, though names were
harmonised. Missing punctuation has been added. Obvious typographical
errors have been silently corrected (e.g. sr / sir, substitue /
substitute, persectly / perfectly; fuch / such). The scenes in Act 5
have been renumbered (original has two Scenes II and lacks a Scene III).

One substantive change was made. In Act 5, Scene 1, "our" was changed
to "your" in keeping with the logic of Mr. Bronzeley's speech:

     Oh! I'll take you home directly--this moment--Any thing,
     any sacrifice to make an impression on your heart.


[The end of _Wives as they were and Maids as they are_ by Elizabeth Inchbald]