graces of Miss Rusport, (yes, colour at that | e,) I gave you no disturbance there, never e in upon you in that rich and plenteous ter, but, when I could have blasted all your cts with a word, spared you, in foolish pity ed you, nor roused her from the fond credulity hich your artifice had lulled her. harles. No, sir, nor boasted to her of the splen- E. You question me too late; the name of Bel- ome on. Enter LOUISA and O'FLAHERTY. Lou. Hold, hold; for heaven's sake! Fla. Hell and confusion! What's all this upr for? Can't you leave off cutting one another's oats, and mind what the poor girl says to you? u've done a notable thing, haven't you both, to her into such a flurry? I think, o'my conence, she's the most frighted of the three. Charles. Dear Louisa, recollect yourself; why you interfere? 'tis in your cause. Bel. Now could I kill him for caressing her. 'Fla. O, sir, your most obedient! You are the atleman I had the honour of meeting here before; 1 was then running off at full speed, like a Kalck; now you are tilting and driving like a bedite, with this lad here, that seems as mad as rself: 'tis a pity but your country had a little re employment for you both. Var. Truly, my lady, ill enough; I thought I must have followed good Sir Oliver. Lady R. Alack-a-day, poor man! Well, Mr. Varland, you find me here overwhelmed with trouble and fatigue; torn to pieces with a multiplicity of affairs, a great fortune poured upon me, unsought for and unexpected: 'twas my good father's will and pleasure it should be so, and I must submit. Var. Your ladyship inherits under a will, made in the year forty-five, immediately after Captain Dudley's marriage with your sister. Lady R. I do so, Mr, Varland; I do so. Var. I well remember it; I engrossed every syllable; but I am surprised to find your ladyship set so little store by this vast accession. Lady R. Why, you know, Mr. Varland, I am a moderate woman; I had enough before; a small matter satisfies me; and Sir Stephen Rusport (heaven be his portion!) took care I shouldn't want that. Var. Very true, very true; he did so; and I am overjoyed to find your ladyship in this disposition; for truth to say, I was not without apprehension the news I have to communicate would have been of some prejudice to your ladyship's tranquillity. Lady R. News, sir! what news have you for me? Var. Nay, nothing to alarm you; a trifle in your present way of thinking: I have a will of Sir Oliver's, you have never seen. Lady R. A will! impossible! how came you by it? Va. I drew it up, at his command, in his last illness: it will save you a world of trouble; it gives his whole estate from you to his grandson, Charles Dudley. Lady R. To Dudley! his estate to Charles Dud. ley! I can't support it; I shall faint! You have killed me, you vile man! I never shall survive it! Var. Lookye there, now; I protest, I thought you would have rejoiced at being clear of the in Bel. Mr. Dudley, when you have recovered the O'Fla. Ay, will I come along, pretty one: if SCENE II.-Lady Rusport's House. Enter LADY RUSPORT and Servant. Serv. An elderly gentleman, who says his name Varland, desires leave to wait on your ladyship. [Erit. Lady R. Show him in; the very man I wish to . Varland, he was Sir Oliver's solicitor, and vy to all his affairs; he brings some good tidings; ne fresh mortgage, or another bond come to light; y start up every day. Enter VARLAND. - Varland, I'm glad to see you; you are heartily come, honest Mr. Varland; you and I haven't t since our late irreparable loss: how have you sed your time this age? Lady R. 'Tis false; 'tis all a forgery, concerted between you and Dudley; why, else, did I never hear of it before? Var. Have patience, my lady, and I'll tell you. By Sir Oliver's direction, I was to deliver this will into no hands but his grandson Dudley's; the young gentleman happened to be then in Scotland: I was despatched thither in search of him: the hurry and fatigue of my journey brought on a fever by the way, which confined me in extreme danger for several days; upon my recovery, I pursued my journey, found young Dudley had left Scotland in the interim, and am now directed hither: where, as soon as I can find him, doubtless, I shall discharge my conscience, and fulfil my commission. Lady R. Dudley, then, as yet knows nothing of this will? Var. Nothing; that secret rests with me. Lady R. A thought occurs; by this fellow's talking of his conscience, I should guess it was upon sale. [Aside.] Come, Mr. Varland, if 'tis as you say, I must submit, I was somewhat flurried at first, and forgot myself; I ask your pardon: this is no place to talk of business, step with me into my room; we will there compare the will, and resolve accordingly. Oh! would your fever had you, and I had your paper. [Aside-Exeunt. Enter Miss RUSPORT, CHARLES, and O'FLAHERTY. Miss R. So, so! my lady and her lawyer have retired to close confabulation; now, Major, if you 746 are the generous man I take you for, grant me one favour. O'Fla. 'Faith, will I, and not think much of my generosity neither; for, though it may not be in my power to do the favour you ask, look you, it can never be in my heart to refuse it. Charles. Could this man's tongue do justice to his Aside. thoughts, how eloquent would he be ! Miss R. Plant yourself, then, in that room; keep guard for a few moments upon the enemy's motions in the chamber beyond; and if they should attempt a sally, stop their march a moment, till your friend here can make good his retreat down the back stairs. O'Fla. A word to the wise! I'm an old cam Enter O'FLAHERTY. O'Fla. Run, run; for holy St. Anthon to horse, and away! The conference par and the enemy advances upon a full F trot, within pistol-shot of our encamper Miss R. Here, here; down the back Charles, remember me ! Charles. Farewell! Now, now, I feel coward. Miss R. What does he mean? O'Fla. Ask no questions, but be gone: cooled the lad's courage, and wonders it for a coward. There's a damned deal of mische! paigner: make the best use of your time; and trusting between this hyena and her lawyer: me for tying the old cat up to the picket. Miss R. Hush! hush! not so loud. Charles. 'Tis the office of a sentinel, Major, you have undertaken, rather than that of a field-officer. O'Fla. 'Tis the office of a friend, my dear boy; and therefore no disgrace to a general. [Exit. Miss R. Well, Charles, will you commit yourself to me for a few minutes? Charles. Most readily; and let me, before one goes by, tender you the only payment I can ever make for your abundant generosity. Miss R. Hold, hold! so vile a thing as money must not come between us. What shall I say? Ŏ Charles! O Dudley! What difficulties have you thrown upon me! Familiarly as we have lived, I shrink at what I am doing; and anxiously as I have sought this opportunity, my fears almost per suade me to abandon it. Charles. You alarm me! Miss R. Your looks and actions have been so distant, and at this moment are so deterring, that, were it not for the hope that delicacy, and not disgust, inspires this conduct in you, I should sink with shame and apprehension: but time presses; and I must speak, and plainly too.. Were you now in possession of your grandfather's estate, as justly you ought to be, and were you inclined to seek a companion for life, should you, or should you not, in that case, honour your unworthy Charlotte with your choice? Charles. My unworthy Charlotte! So judge me, heaven, there is not a circumstance on earth so valuable as your happiness, so dear to me as your person: but to bring poverty, disgrace, reproach from friends, ridicule from all the world, upon a generous benefactress; thievishly to steal into an open and unreserved, ingenuous heart, O Charlotte! dear, unhappy girl, it is not to be done. Miss R. Come, my dear Charles, I have enough; make that enough still more by sharing it with me: sole heiress of my father's fortune, a short time will put it in my disposal; in the meanwhile you will be sent to join your regiment; let us prevent a sepa-I ration, by setting out this very night for that happy country, where marriage still is free: carry me this moment to Belcour's lodgings. Charles. Belcour's? The name is ominous; there's murder in it: inexorable honour! [Aside. Miss R. D'ye pause? Put me into his hands, while you provide the means for our escape; he is the most generous, the most honourable of men. Charles. Honourable! most honourable! Miss R. Can you doubt it? Do you demur? Have you forgot your letter? Why, Belcour 'twas that prompted me to this proposal, that promised to supply the means, that nobly offered his unasked assistance. old six-and-eight-pence-'egad! Í'll des this screen, and listen; a good soldier a times fight in ambush, as well as in open fl [Retires behind Enter VARLAND. Var. Let me consider-five thousand per prompt payment, for destroying this scrap not worth five farthings; 'tis a fortune easily e yes, and 'tis another man's fortune easily away; 'tis a good round sum, to be paid am. once for a bribe: but 'tis a dd rogue's ta me to take it. O'Fla. So, so! this fellow speaks truth to self, though he lies to other people. [Ama Var. "Tis breaking the trust of my benefact that's a foul crime; but he's dead, and can neve reproach me with it: and 'tis robbing young Da ley of his lawful patrimony, that's a hard case; bur he's alive, and knows nothing of the matter. O'Fla. These lawyers are so used to bring of rogueries of others, that they are never with n excuse for their own. Var. Were I assured now that Dudley woulig me half the money for producing this will that Lary Rusport does for concealing it, I would deal was him, and be an honest man at half-price; and i Į wish every gentleman of my profession could lay his/ hand on his heart, and say the same thing. O'Fla. A bargain, old gentleman! Nay, never start nor stare; you wasn't afraid of your owa CODscience; never be afraid of me. Var. Of you, sir! who are you, pray? O'Fla. I'll tell you who I am: you seem 2013 to be honest, but want the heart to set about it; 20 I am the very man in the world to make var. for if you do not give up that paper this very 2stant, by the soul of me, fellow, I will not leave ze whole bone in your skin that sha'n't be blunt, Var. What right have you, pray, 19 mår fas paper from me? O'Fla. What right have you, pray, to kn young Dudley? I don't know what it axis am apt to think it will be safer in my hands in yours; therefore give it me without Zeze work and save yourself a beating: do now; you bad met Var. Well, sir, I may as well make a para necessity. There; I have acquitted my a at the expense of five thousand pounds. O'Fla. Five thousand pounds! Mercy te When there are such temptations in the ar we wonder if some of the corps are a disgrace Var. Well, you have got the paper; li ma at 22 honest mad, give it to Charles Dudley. O'Fla. An honest man! look at me, hed, la a soldier, this is not the livery of a knave: 1 an¤ Irishman, honey; mine is not the country id; honour. Now, sirrah, be gone; if you esters Bel. O my cursed tropical constitution! 'Would to heaven I had been dropped upon the snows of Lapland, and never felt the blessed influence of the sun, so had I never burnt with these inflammatory passions. Stock. So, so; you seem disordered, Mr. Belcour. Bel. Disordered, sir! Why did I ever quit the soil in which I grew? what evil planet drew me from that warm, sunny region, where naked nature walks without disguise, into this cold, contriving, artificial country. Stock. Come, sir, you've met a rascal; what o'that? General conclusions are illiberal. Bel. No, sir, I have met reflection by the way; I have come from folly, noise, and fury, and met a silent monitor. Well, well, a villain! 'twas not to be pardoned; pray, never mind me, sir. Stock. Alas! my heart bleeds for him. [Aside. Bel. And yet I might have heard him: now, plague upon that blundering Irishman, for coming in as he did; the hurry of the deed might palliate the event; deliberate execution has less to plead. Mr. Stockwell, I am bad company to you. I think you Stock. Oh, sir, make no excuse. have not found me forward to pry into the secrets of your pleasures and pursuits; 'tis not my disposition; but there are times, when want of curiosity would be want of friendship. Bel. Ah, sir, mine is a case wherein you and I shall never think alike. Stock. 'Tis very well, sir; if you think I can render you any service, it may be worth your trial to confide in me; if not, your secret is safer in your own bosom. Bel. That sentiment demands my confidence; pray, sit down by me. You must know, I have an affair of honour on my hands with young Dudley; and, though I put up with no man's insult, yet I wish to take away no man's life. Stock. I know the young man, and am apprised of your generosity to his father; what can have bred a quarrel between you? Bel. A foolish passion on my side, and a haughty provocation on his. There is a girl, Mr. Stockwell, whom I have unfortunately seen, of most uncommon beauty; she has withal an air of so much natural modesty, that, had I not had good assurance of her being an attainable wanton, I declare I should as soon have thought of attempting the chastity of Diana. Enter a Servant. Stock. Heyday! why do you interrupt us? Serv. Sir, there's an Irish gentleman will take no denial; he says, he must see Mr. Belcour directly, upon business of the last consequence. Bel. Admit him; 'tis the Irish officer that parted us, and brings me young Dudley's challenge; I should have made a long story of it, and he'll tell you in three words. Enter Major O'FLAHERTY. O'Fla. 'Save you, my dear; and you, sir, I have a little bit of a word in private for you. Bel. Pray, deliver your commands; this gentleman is my intimate friend. O'Fla. Why, then, Ensign Dudley will be glad to measure swords with you yonder, at the London Tavern, in Bishopsgate-street, at nine o'clock; you know the place. Bel. I do, and shall observe the appointment. O'Fla. Will you be of the party, sir? we shall want a fourth hand. Stock. Savage as the custom is, I close with your proposal; and though I am not fully informed of the occasion of your quarrel, I shall rely on Mr. Belcour's honour for the justice of it, and willingly stake my life in his defence. O'Fla. Sir, you are a gentleman of honour, and I shall be glad of being better known to you. But, harkye, Belcour, I had like to have forgot part of my errand; there is the money you gave old Dudley: you may tell it over, 'faith; 'tis a receipt in full: now the lad can put you to death with a safe conscience; and when he has done that job for you, let it be a warning how you attempt the sister of a man of honour. Bel. The sister! O'Fla. Ay, the sister; 'tis English, is it not? Or Irish, 'tis all one; you understand me: his sister, or Louisa Dudley, that's her name, I think, call her which you will. By St. Patrick! 'tis a foolish piece of business, Belcour, to go about to take away a poor girl's virtue from her, when there are so many to be met with in this town, who have disposed of their's to your hands. (Exit. Stock. Why, I am thunderstrack! what is it you have done, and what is the shocking business in which I have engaged? If I understand him right, 'tis the sister of young Dudley you have been at tempting: you talked to me of a professed wanton; the girl he speaks of has beauty enough indeed to inflame your desires, but she has honour, innocence, and simplicity, to awe the most licentious passions; if you have done that, Mr. Belcour, I renounce you, I abandon you, I forswear all fellowship or friendship with you for ever. Bel. Have patience for a moment; we do indeed speak of the same person, but she is not innocent, she is not young Dudley's sister. Stock. Astonishing, who told you this? Bel. The woman where she lodges, the person who put me on the pursuit, and contrived our meetings. Stock. What woman? What person? Bel. Fulmer her name is; I warrant you, I did not proceed without good ground. Stock. Fulmer, Fulmer! Who waits? Stock. So! Bel. Can you procure me a sight of those diamonds? Stuke. They are now in my hand, I was desired to shew them to Mr. Stockwell. Stock. Give them to me. What do I see? As I live, the very diamonds Miss Rusport sent hither, and which I entrusted to you to return. Bel. Yes, but I betrayed that trust, and gave them Mrs. Fulmer, to present to Miss Dudley. Stock. With a view, no doubt, to bribe her to compliance? Bel. I own it. Stock. For shame, for shame; and 'twas this woman's intelligence, you relied upon for Miss Dud. ley's character. I Bel. I thought she knew her. By heaven! would have died, sooner than have insulted a woman of virtue, or a man of honour. Stock. I think you would; but mark the danger of licentious courses: you are betrayed, robbed, abused, and, but for this providential discovery, in a fair way of being sent out of the world, with all your follies on your head. Dear Stukely, go to my neighbour, tell him, I have an owner for the jewels; and beg him to carry the people under custody to the London Tavern, and wait for me there. [Exit STUKELY.] I see it was a trap laid for you, which you have narrowly escaped: you addressed a woman of honour with all the loose incense of a profane admirer; and you have drawn upon you the resentment of a man of honour, who thinks himself bound to protect her. Well, sir, you must atone for this mistake. I Bel. To the lady the most penitent submission can make is justly due; but in the execution of an act of justice, it never shall be said my soul was swayed by the least particle of fear. I have received a challenge from her brother; now, though I would give my fortune, almost my life itself, to purchase her happiness, yet, I cannot abate her one scruple of my honour; I have been branded with the name of villain. Stock. Ay, sir, you mistook her character, and he mistook your's; error begets error. Bel. Villain, Mr. Stockwell, is a harsh word. Stock. Or else, what follows? Why, the sword is drawn; and to heal the wrongs you have done to the reputation of the sister, you make an honourable amends by murdering the brother. Bel. Murdering! Stock. "Tis thus religion writes and speaks the word; in the vocabulary of modern honour, there is no such term. But, come, I don't despair of satisfying the one, without alarming the other; that done, I have a discovery to unfold, that you will then, I hope, be fitted to receive. [Exeunt. ACT V SCENE I-Stockwell's House. Stuke. They are in good hands; I accompanied them to the tavern, where your son was to be, and then went in search of you. You may be Ke Stockwell will enforce the law against then is fe as it will go. Dud. What mischief might their cuschins tions have produced, but for this timely away! Lou. Still I am terrified; I tremble varS hension. Stuke. Mr. Stockwell is with them, main you have nothing to fear; you may exped every minute; and see, madam, agreeably a y wish, they are here. – pas Enter CHARLES: afterwards STOCKVILL, and Lou. O Charles, O brother! how could you r Stock. Captain, I am proud to see you; andy Miss Dudley, do me particular honour. We been adjusting, sir, a very extraordinary and d gerous mistake, which, I take for granted, myinen Štukely has explained to you. Dud. He has. I have too good an opinion of Y Belcour, to believe he could be guilty of a desig affront to an innocent girl; and I am much m well acquainted with your character, to suppon you could abet him in such design; I have no doubt, therefore, all things will be set to rights in a very few words, when we have the pleasure of seeing M Belcour. Stock. He has only stepped into the counting house, and will wait upon you directly. You wil not be over strict, madam, in weighing Mr. Belcour's conduct to the minutest scruple; his manners, passions, and opinions, are not as yet assimilated to this climate; he comes amongst you a new character, an inhabitant of a new world; and both hospitality, as well as pity, recommend him to our indulgence. Enter BELCOUR. Bel. I am happy, and ashamed, to see you; man in his senses would offend you; I have it feited mine, and erred against the light of the when I overlooked your virtues; but your beauty was predominant, and hid them from my sight; now perceive, I was the dupe of a most improbakit report, and humbly entreat your pardon Lou. Think no more of it; 'twas a mistake. Bel. My life has been composed of little error: I was once given to hope, Mr. Stockrel 'twas founded in mystery, and has continued that you was to have delivered me from there diff culties; but either I do not deserve your confidence, or I was deceived in my expectations. Stock. When this lady has confirmed your parist, I shall hold you deserving of my confidence. Lou. That was granted the moment it as anked. Bel. To prove my title to his confidence, boar me so far with yours, as to allow me a fer mit conversation in private with you. [She turns to her Father Dud. By all means, Louisa [They retin.] Com Mr. Stockwell, let us go into another room. your promise, of a sight of the paper, Charles. And now, Major O'Flaherty, Im ravel this conspiracy of my aunt Buspars I think I have waited with great patience. that i to u what it was I overheard; I have got the paper, O'Fla. I have been endeavouring to call will give you the best account I can of the whole transaction. [Exeunt all but LOUISA and BELCOUR. Bel. Miss Dudley, I have solicited this audience, to repeat to you my penitence and confusion. How shall I atone? What reparation can I make to you and virtue ? Lou. To me there's nothing due, nor anything demanded of you but your more favourable opinion for the future, if you should chance to think of me. Upon the part of virtue, I am not empowered to speak; but if hereafter, as you range through life, you should surprise her in the person of some wretched female, poor as myself, and not so well protected, enforce not your advantage, complete not your licentious triumph; but raise her, rescue her from shame and sorrow, and reconcile her to herself again. Bel. I will, I will: by bearing your idea ever present in my thoughts, virtue shall keep an advo-I cate within me but tell me, loveliest, when you pardon the offence, can you, all perfect as you are, approve of the offender? As I now cease to view you in that false light I lately did, can you, and in the fulness of your bounty will you, cease also to reflect upon the libertine addresses I have paid you, and look upon me as your reformed, your rational admirer? Lou. Are sudden reformations apt to last? and how can I be sure the first fair face you meet will not ensnare affections so unsteady, and that I shall not lose you lightly as I gained you? Bel. I know I am not worthy your regard; but there's a healing virtue in your eyes, that makes recovery certain; I cannot be a villain in your arms. Lou. That you can never be: whomsoever you shall honour with your choice, my life upon't, that woman will be happy. Bel. I see, Miss Dudley, I've not yet obtained your pardon. Lou. Nay, that you are in full possession of. Bel. Oh, seal it with your hand, then, loveliest of women, confirm it with your heart: make me honourably happy, and crown your penitent, not with your pardon only, but your love. Lou. My love! Enter O'FLAHERTY; afterwards DUDLEY and O'Fla. Joy, joy! sing, dance, leap, laugh for joy. Ha' done making love, and fall down on your knees to every saint in the calendar, for they are all on your side, and honest St. Patrick at the head of them. the lawyer were plotting together, I don't see how you would ever have come at the paper there, that Master Stockwell is reading. Dud. True, my good friend, you are the father of this discovery; but how did you contrive to get this will from the lawyer? O'Fla. By force, my dear; the only way of getting anything from the lawyer's clutches. Stock. Well, Major, when he brings his action of assault and battery against you, the least Dudley can do is to defend you with all the weapons you have put into his hands. Charles. That I am bound to do; and after the happiness I shall have in sheltering a father's age from the vicissitudes of life, my next delight will be in offering you an asylum in the bosom of your country. O'Fla. And upon my soul, my dear, 'tis high time was there, for 'tis now thirty long years since I sat foot in my native country, and by the power of St. Patrick I swear I think it's worth all the rest of the world put together. Dud. Ay, Major, much about that time have I been beating the round of service, and 'twere well for us both to give over; we have stood many a tough gale, and abundance of hard blows, but Charles shall lay us up in a little private, but safe harbour, where we'll rest from our labour, and peacefully wind up the remainder of our days. O'Fla. Agreed; and you may take it as a proof of my esteem, young man, that Major O'Flaherty accepts a favour at your hands; for, by heaven, I'd sooner starve than say I thank you" to the man I despise: but I believe you are an honest lad, and I'm glad you've trounced the old cat; for on my conscience, I believe i must otherwise have married her myself, to have let you in for a share of her fortune. Stock. Hey-day! what's become of Belcour? Lou. One of your servants called him out just now, and seemingly on some earnest occasion. Stock. I hope, Miss Dudley, he has atoned to you as a gentleman ought. Lou. Mr. Belcour, sir, will always do what a gentleman ought, and in my case, I fear only you will think he has done too much. Stock. What has he done? and what can be too much? Pray heaven, it may be as I wish! [Aside. Dud. Let us hear it, child. Lou. With confusion for my own unworthiness, Lou. 'Tis true. Stock. Then I am happy; all my doubts, my Charles. O Louisa, such an event! By the lucki- cares, are over, and I may own him for my son. est chance in life, we have discovered a will of my│[Aside.] Why, these are joyful tidings! Come, my grandfather's, made in his last illness, by which he cuts off my aunt Rusport with a small annuity, and leaves me heir to his whole estate, with a fortune of fifteen thousand pounds to yourself. Lou. What is it you tell me? O, sir, instruct me how to support this unexpected turn of fortune. [To her Father. Dud. Name not fortune: 'tis the work of Providence; 'tis the justice of heaven, that would not suffer innocence to be oppressed, nor your base aunt to prosper in her cruelty and cunning. [A Servant whispers BELCOUR, and he goes out. O'Fla. You shall pardon me, Captain Dudley, but you must not overlook St. Patrick neither; for, by my soul, if he had not put it into my head to slip behind the screen, when your righteous aunt and good friend, assist me in disposing your lovely daughter to accept this returning prodigal; he is no unprincipled, no hardened libertine: his love for you and virtue is the same. Dud. 'Twere vile ingratitude in me to doubt his merit. What says my child? O'Fla. Begging your pardon now, 'tis a frivolous sort of a question, that of your's, for you may see plainly enough by the young lady's looks, that she says a great deal, though she speaks never a word. Charles. Well, sister, I believe the Major has fairly interpreted the state of your heart. Lou. I own it; and what must that heart be, which love, honour, and beneficence, like Mr. Bel cour's, can make no impression on? |