Mrs Good. I shall obey your kind commands, sir-Poor soul! my heart bleeds for her; her virtue and misfortunes touch me to the soul! Free. I have some little feeling for her, too; but she is too proud. A fine face; fine figure; well-behaved; well-bred; and, I dare say, an excellent heart!-But she is too proud; tell her so, d'ye hear? tell her she is too proud. I shall be too late for my business-I'll see her again soon-It is a pity she is so proud. [Exeunt. ACT III. Sir Wil. A YOUNG woman! a native of Scotland! her name Amelia! supposed to be in the greatest distress, and living in total retirement! If fortune should, for once, smile upon me, and have thrown me into the very same house! I don't know what to think of it; and yet, so many uncommon circumstances together, recall the memory of my misfortunes, and awaken all the father in my bosom.--I must be satisfied. Enter MOLLY crossing the stage. Sir Wil. Madam! will you permit me to speak one word to you? Mol. [coming forward.] If you please; what is your pleasure, sir? Sir Wil. I presume, madam, you are the charming young woman I heard of?" Mol. I have a few charms in the eyes of some folks, to be sure, sir. Sir Wil. And you are a native of Scotland, they tell me? Mol. I am; at your service, sir. Sir Wil. Will you give me leave to ask the name of your family? Who is your father? Mol. I really don't remember my father. Sir Wil. Ha! not remember him, do you say? [Earnestly. Mol. No, sir; but I have been told that he was Sir Wil. Who, madam? Sir Wil. I don't doubt it; but who are they? I have particular reasons for inquiring. Mol. Very likely so; but I must beg to be excused, sir. Sir Wil. Of what age is your mistress? you will tell me that, at least. Mol. Oh, as to her age, she don't care who know's that; she is too young to deny her age yet a-while. She is about one-and-twenty, sir. Sir Wil. Precisely the age of my Amelia. [Aside.] One-and-twenty, you say? [To MOL. Mol. Yes, sir; and I am about two-and twenty; there is no great difference between us. Sir Wil. [Apart.] It must be so; her age, her country, her manner of living, all concur to prove her mine; my dear child, whom I left to taste of misfortune from her cradle ! Mol. [Apart.] What is he muttering, I wonder? I wish this one-and-twenty has not turned the old gentleman's head. Sir Wil. Let me beg the favour of you to conduct me to your mistress: I want to speak with her. Mol. She will see no company, sir; she is indisposed; she is in great affliction; and receives no visits at all. Sir Wil. Mine is not a visit of form or ceremony, or even impertinent curiosity; but on the most urgent business. Tell her, I am her fellowcountryman. Mol. What are you of Scotland, too, sir? Sir Wil. I am. Tell her I take part in her afflictions, and may, perhaps, bring her some cou Mol. One of the most eminent bakers in Aber- solation. deen, sir. Sir Wil. Oh, I conceive! You live, I suppose, with the young lady I meant to speak to. I mistook you for the lady herself. Mol. You did me a great deal of honour, I assure you, sir. Sir Wil. But you are acquainted with your mistress's family? Mol. Family, sir! Sir Wil. Ay; who are her parents? Mol. There is something mighty particular about this old gentleman! He has not brought another two hundred pounds, sure! [Apart.] Well, sir; since you are so very pressing, since you say you are our fellow-countryman, if you will walk this way, I'll speak to my mistress, and see what I can do for you. Sir Wil. I am obliged to you. [Exit MOLLY. And now, if I may trust the forebodings of an old fond heart, I am going to throw my arms [Exit. Mol. She comes of very creditable parents, I about my daughter. promise you, sir. AS SIR WILLIAM follows MOLLY out on one side, | others; and letters of this sort are all alike, you SPATTER appears on the other. know. je La France. Begar dat is ver true. Adieu, sir. I have execute my commission: adieu. Oh! fais bien mes commissions, moi! Spat. There they go! what the deuce can that old fellow and Amelia's maid do together? The slut is certainly conducting him to her mistress! [Exit LA FRANCE. In less than half an hour I expect that Amelia Spat. See the effects of secret service-money ! will be apprehended. In the mean time, I must Intelligence must be paid for; and the bribing be upon the watch; for, since I have laid the in-couriers is a fair stratagem, by all the laws of formation, it is high time that I should collect war. Shall I break open this letter, or carry it some materials to support it.-Who comes here? to lady Alton as it is? No; I'll read it myself, Lord Falbridge's valet de chambre: his errand is that I may have the credit of communicating the to Amelia, without doubt; something may be contents. Let me see! [Opens the letter, and learnt there, perhaps. reads.] Thou dearest, most respectable, and Enter LA FRANCE. Ha! Monsieur La France! your servant. La France. Serviteur! ver glad to see you, Monsieur Spatter. Spat. Well; what brings you here? eh, Monsieur La France? La France. Von lettre, Monsieur. La France. From my lor to Mademoiselle Spat. Oh! you're mistaken, Monsieur; that letter is for lady Alton. La France. Lady Alton! no, ma foi! it be for Mademoiselle. I am no mistake. Je ne me trompe pas la dessus. Spat. Why, have not you carried several letters from lord Falbridge to lady Alton? mi La France. Oh, que oui! but dis be for de young laty dat lif here; for Mademoiselle: lor love her! ma foi; he lov her à la folie. Spat. And he loved lady Alton à la folie, not he? did La France. Oh, que non! he lov her so gentely! si tranquilement; ma foi, he lov her à la Françoise. But now he lov Mademoiselle; he no eat, no sleep, no speak, but Mademoiselle; no tink, but of Mademoiselle; quite an oder ting, Monsieur Spatter, quite an oder ting! Spat. Well, well; no matter for that; the letter is for lady Alton, I promise you. La France. Ah! pardonnez moi ! Spat. It is, I assure you; and to convince you of it, see here, Monsieur! lady Alton has sent you five guineas to pay the postage. La France. Five guineas! ma foi, I believe I was mistake, indeed. Spat. Ay, ay; I told you you were mistaken : and after all, if it should not be for her ladyship, she will inclose it in another case, and send it to Amelia, and nobody will be the wiser. La France. Fort bien; ver well; la voila. [Gives the letter.] I have got five guinees; I don't care. Spat. Why should you? Where's the harm, if one woman should receive a letter written to another? There will be nothing lost by it; for, if Amelia don't receive this, she will receive VOL. II. most virtuous of women! So! this is à la folie, indeed, as Monsieur La France calls it. If any 'consideration could add to my remorse, for the injury I have offered you, it would be the dis covery of your real character.' Ah, ah! I 'know who you are. I know you are the daugh'ter of the unhappy sir William Douglas.'--So, so!-Judge, then, of the tumult of my soul; which is only preserved from the horrors of despair, by the hopes of rendering some service to 'the father, which may, perhaps, in some measure, atone for my behaviour to his too justly of'fended daughter. Give me leave, this evening, to sue for my pardon at your feet, and to in'form you of the measures I have taken. In the mean time, believe me unalterably yours. 'FALBRIDGE.' 6 This is a precious packet, indeed!--Now, if I SCENE II. AMELIA's apartment. SIR WILLIAM DOUGLAS and AMELIA discovered sitting. Sir Wil. Every word you utter, touches me to the soul. Nothing but such noble sentiments could have supported your spirit under so many misfortunes. Ame. Perhaps it is to my misfortunes that I owe those sentiments. Had I been brought up in ease and luxury, my mind, which has learnt fortitude from distress, might have been enfeebled by prosperity. Sir Wil. Thou most amiable of thy sex, I conjure thee to hide nothing from me. You say you were born at Aberdeen; you confess that you are derived from one of those unhappy families, who suffered themselves to be so fatally deluded, and drawn from their allegiance to the best of kings. 5 S Why, why then, will you not tell me all? Why | ment that you remain in it, is at the hazard of do you endeavour to conceal your name and fa- your life; I am ready to accompany you to any mily? part of the world. Ame. My duty to my family obliges me to silence. My father's life is forfeited by the sentence of the law; and he owes his existence, at this hour, to flight or secrecy. He may be in England; he may, for aught I know, be in London; and the divulging my name and family might create a fresh search after him, and expose him to new perils. Your conversation, it is true, has inspired me with respect and tender-I ness; but yet, you are a stranger to me: I have reason to fear every thing, and one word may undo me. Sir Wil. Alas! one word may make us both happy. Tell me; of what age were you when your cruel fortune separated you from your father? Ame. An infant; so young, that I have not the least traces of him in my memory. Sir Wil. And your mother; what became of her? Ame. She, as I have often heard, was carried off by a fever, while she was preparing to embark with me, to follow the fortunes of my father. He, driven almost to despair by this last stroke of ill fortune, continually shifted his place of residence abroad; but, for some years past, whether by his death, the miscarriage of letters, the infidelity of friends, or other accidents, I have not received the least intelligence of him; and now, I almost begin to despair of hearing of him again, though I still persist in my inquiries. Sir Wil. [Rising.] It must be so; it is as I imagined. All these touching circumstances are melancholy witnesses of the truth of it. Yes, my child! I am that unhappy father whom you lost so early; I am that unfortunate husband, whom death, and my unhappy fate, almost at the very same period, divorced from the best of wives; I am-I am sir William Douglas. Ame. Sir William Douglas! have I lived to se my father! then Heaven has heard my prayers; this is the first happy moment of my unfortunate life.-Embracing. And yet, your presence here fills me with apprehensions; I tremble for your safety, for your life; how durst yon venture your person in this kingdom? how can you expose yourself to the danger of discovery in this town? My whole soul is in a tumult of fear and joy. Sir Wil. Do not be alarmed, my Amelia; fear nothing; Heaven begins to smile upon my fortune. To find thee so unexpectedly, to find thee with a mind so superior to distress, softens the anguish of my past life, and gives me happy omens of the future. Ame. Oh, sir! by the joy I receive from the embraces of a father, let me conjure you to provide for your safety! do not expose me to the horror of losing you again; of losing you for ever! Quit this town immediately; every mo Sir Wil. My dear child! how I grieve that your youth and virtue should be involved in my misfortunes! Yes, we will quit this kingdom; prepare for your departure, and we may leave London this evening. Enter OWEN, hastily. Ha! Owen! thou art come at a happy moment. have found my daughter. This is your young mistress, the paragon of her sex, my dear, my amiable Amelia. Owen. Oh, sir, this is no time for congratulation. You are in the most imminent danger. Sir Wil. What is the matter? Owen. The officers of government are, at this instant, in the house. I saw them enter; I heard them say they had authority to apprehend some suspected person, and I ran immediately to inform you of your danger. Ame. Oh, Heaven! My father, what will you do? Owen. Do not be alarmed, sir; we are two; we are armed; and we may, perhaps, be able to make our way through them; I will stand by you to the last drop of my blood. Sir Wil. Thou faithful creature! Stay, Owen; our fears may betray us: till we are sure we are attacked, let us shew no signs of opposition. Enter MOLLY, hastily. Mol. My dear mistress! we are ruined; we are undone for ever. Ame. There are officers of justice in the house; I have heard it; tell me, tell me this instant, whom do they seek for? Mol. For you, madam, for you; they have a warrant to apprehend you, they say. Ame. But they have no warrant to apprehend any body else? Mol. No, madam; nobody else; but I will follow you to the end of the world. Ame. My dear Polly, I did not mean you. Retire, sir! [To SIR WILLIAM.] For Heaven's sake, leave me to their mercy! they can have no facts against me; my life has been as innocent as unfortunate, and I must soon be released. Sir Wil. No, my child; I will not leave thee. Mol. My child? This is sir William Douglas, then, as sure as I am alive! Sir Wil. Besides, retiring at such a time might create suspicion, and incur the danger we would wish to avoid. Mol. They will be in the room in a moment; I think I hear them upon the stairs; they would have been here before me,.if Mr Freeport had not come in and stopt them. Sir Wil. Courage, my dear Amelia! Ame. Alas, sir! I have no terrors but for you. Mol. Oh, lord! here they are, indeed! I am frighted out of my wits! Enter MRS GOODMAN, FREEPORT, and Officer. Free. A warrant to seize her? a harmless young woman? it is impossible! Offi. Pardon me, sir; if the young lady goes by the name of Amelia Walton, I have a warrant to apprehend her. Free. On what account? Offi. Yes, sir; suspected of disaffection and treasonable practices. Ame. I am the unhappy object of your search, sir; give me leave to know the substance of the accusation. Offi. I cannot tell you particulars, madam; but information upon oath has been made against you, and I am ordered to apprehend you. Mrs Good. But you will accept of bail, sir? I will be bound for all I am worth in the world. Offi. In these cases, madam, bail is not usual; and, if ever accepted at all, it is excessively high; and given by persons of very large property, and known character. Free. Well; my property is large enough, and my character very well known. My name is Freeport. Offi. I know you very well, sir. Free. I'll answer for her appearance; I'll be bound in a penalty of five hundred pounds, a thousand, two thousand, or what sum you please. Offi. And will you enter into the recognisance immediately? Free. With all my heart; come along! [Going. Offi. And are you in earnest, sir? Free. Ay, to be sure. Why not? Offi. Because, sir, I'll venture to say, there are but few people that place their money on such securities. Free. So much the worse; he, who can employ it in doing good, places it on the best security, and puts it out at the highest interest in the world. [Exit FREEMAN, with the Officer. Sir Wil. I can hardly trust my eyes and cars! who is this benevolent gentleman? Mrs Good. I don't wonder you are surprised at Mr Freeport's manner of proceeding, sir; but it is his way. He is not a man of compliment; but he does the most essential service in less time, than others take in making protestations. Mol. Here he is again! Heaven reward him! Re-enter FREEPORT. Free. So! that matter is dispatched; now to our other affairs! this is a busy day with ine.Look'ye, sir William; we must be brief; there is no time to be lost. saw you. Mrs Good. Harbour no distrust of Mr Freeport, sir; he is one of the worthiest men living. Ame. I know his worthiness. His behaviour to the officer but this moment, uncommonly generous as it appeared, is not the first testimony he has given me to day, of his noble disposition. Free. Noble! p'shaw! nonsense! Sir Wil. [To FREEPORT.] Sir; the kind manner in which you have been pleased to interest yourself in my affairs, has almost as much overpowered me, as if you had surprised me with hostile proceedings. Which way shall I thank you for your goodness to me and my Amelia? Free. Don't thank me at all; when you are out of danger, perhaps I may make a proposal to you, that will not be disagreeable. At present, think of nothing but your escape; for I should not be surprised, if they were very shortly to make you the same compliment they have paid to Amelia: and, in your case, which is really a serious one, they might not be in the humour to accept of my recognisance. Mrs Good. Mr Freeport is in the right, sir; every moment of delay is hazardous; let us prevail upon you to depart immediately! Amelia, being wholly innocent, cannot be long detained in custody, and as soon as she is released, I will bring her to you, wherever you shall appoint. Free. Ay, ay; you must be gone directly, sir! and as you may want ready money upon the road, take my purse! [Offering his purse. Sir Wil. No, thou truest friend, I have no need of it. With what wonderful goodness have you acted towards me and my unhappy family! Free. Wonderful! why wonderful? Would not you have done the same, if you had been in my place? Sir Wil. I hope I should. Free. Well, then, where is the wonder of it? Cone, come, let us see you make ready for your departure! Sir Wil. Thou best of men! Free. Best of men? Heaven forbid! I have done no more than my duty by you. I am a man myself; and am bound to be a friend to all mankind, you know. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE 1.-SPATTER's apartment. Lady Alt. Planned like a wise general! Do you then go, and reconnoitre the enemy, while I LADY ALTON with a letter in her hand, and lie here in ambush to reinforce you as soon as SPATTER. Lady Alt. THANKS, my good Spatter ! many thanks for this precious epistle! more precious at present than one of Ovid, Pliny, or Cicero. It is at once a billet-doux and a state paper; and serves at the same time to convict her of conspiring against me, and the public. Spat. It is a valuable manuscript, to be sure, madam; and yet that is but the least half of my discoveries, since I left your ladyship. Lady Alt. But is not this half, according to the Grecian axiom, more than the whole, Mr Spatter? Spat. When you know the whole, I believe you will think not, madam. Lady Alt. Out with it then! I am impatient Spat. But what would you say, madam, if I had found out the father himself, too? Lady Alt. Sir William Douglas! Spat. Is now in this house, madam. He arrived this I saw him con Spat. Nothing more certain. morning under a feigned name. ducted to Amelia's apartment. This raised my suspicion, and I planted myself at her door, with all the circumspection of a spy, and address of a chambermaid. There I overheard their mutual acknowledgments of each other; and a curious interview it was. First they wept for grief; and then they wept for joy; and then they wept for grief again. Their tears, however, were soon interrupted by the arrival of the officer, whose purpose was partly defeated, as you have already heard, by the intervention of Freeport. Lady Alt. Yes, the brute! But that delay was not half so unfortunate, as your discoveries have been happy, Spatter; for my revenge shall now return on them with redoubled fury.-Issue out upon them once more; see what they are about; and be sure to give me immediate notice, if lord Falbridge should come. [Going. Spat. Stay, madam, After intercepting the letter, I sent for your ladyship, that, at so critical a juncture, you might be present on the spot: and if you go home again, we shall lose time, which perhaps may be precious, in running to and fro. Suppose you step into the study, till I You will find my own answer to my last pamphlet, and the two first sheets of the next month's Magazine to amuse you. return. Enter OWEN. Well, old true-penny! Have you prepared every thing for sir William's departure? Owen. We had need be going, indeed, sir; we are in continual danger while we stay here; who d'ye think lodged the information against Madam Amelia? Free. Who? Owen. A person who lodges in this very house, it seems: one Mr Spatter, sir. Free. Spatter how d'ye know? Owen. I had it from one of the officers, who came to apprehend her. Free. A dog! I could find in my heart to cut off his ears with my own hands, and save him the disgrace of the pillory. Owen. My poor master is always unfortunate. If lord Brumpton had lived a week longer, sir William might perhaps have been out of the reach of their malice. Free. Lord Brumpton? Owen. Yes, sir. He was soliciting my master's pardon; but died before he had accomplished his benevolent intentions. Free. Ha! A thought strikes me! [Apart.]— Hark ye, friend, [To OWEN ] does sir William know the present lord Brumpton? Owen. No, sir. The late lord had no children, or near relations, living; and, indeed, he was the only surviving friend of my poor master in the kingdom. Free. Is the chaise at the door? ment. Free. Run to your master, and desire him not to go till I see him. Tell him I am going out upon his business, and will be back within this hour. |