Enter JENKINS. Jenk. Do you call, Sir? [Exit. Mr. J. Hark you, old gentleman; who are you? Jenk. Sir, my name is Jenkins. Mr. J. Oh! you are Sir John Flowerdale's steward; a servant he puts confidence in. Jenk. Sir, I have served Sir John Flowerdale many years. Mr.J. Then, Mr. Jenkins, I shall condescend to speak to you. Does your master know who I am? Does he know, Sir, that I am likely to be a peer of Great Britain? That I have ten thousand pounds a year; that I have passed through all Europe with distinguished eclat; that I refused the daughter of Mynheer Van Slokenfolk, the great Dutch burgomaster; and that, if I had not had the misfortune of being bred a protestant, I might have married the niece of his present holiness the Pope, with a fortune of two hundred thousand piastres, Mr. Jenkins? Jenk. I am sure, Sir, my master has all the respect imaginable SCENE III.-SIR JOHN FLOWERDALE'S View of can, by moonlight; statues, flowering, Enter LIONEL, leading CLARISSA. Lion. list-methought I heard a noiseshould be surprised together, at a juncture so critical what might be the consequence—I know not how it is; but, at this the happiest moment of my life, I feel a damp, a tremer at by heart ression-You love me, and have conde Clar. Then, what should I do? If you tremble ought to be terrified ndeed, who have discovered sentiments, which perhaps I should Aba hid, with a franknesthat, by a man less Mr. J. Then, Mr. Tomkins, how comes he, gepus, less noble-mod than yourself, after my showing an inclination to be allied to mbe construed to my disadvantage. his family; how comes he, I say, to bring meion. Oh! wound me not with so cruel an to this house to be affronted? I have let his daughter go; but I think I was in the wrong;cended to confess it-You have seen my torfor a woman that insults me is no more safe ments, and been kind enough to pity them—the than a man. I have brought a lady to reason world indeed, may blame youbefore now for giving me saucy language; and left her male friends to revenge it, Mr. Wilkins. Jenk. Pray, good Sir, what's the matter? Mr. J. Why, Sir, this is the matter, Siryour master's daughter, Sir, has behard to me with damned insolence and impertinence; and you may tell Sir John Flowerdale, first, with regard to her, that I think she is a silly, ignorant, awkward, ill-bred, country puss, Mr. Hopkins. Jenk. Oh! Sir, for Heaven's sake Clar. And yet, was it proclaimed to the world, what could the most malicious suggest? They could but say, that truth and sincerity got the better of forms; that the tongue dared to speak the honest sensations of the mind; that, while you aimed at improving my understanding, you engaged and conquered my heart. Lion. And is it, is it possible? Clar. Be calm, and listen to me: what I have done has not been lightly imagined, nor rashly undertaken it is the work of reflection, of conviction; my love is not a sacrifice to my own fancy, but a tribute to your worth; did I think there was a more deserving man in the Mr. J. And that, with regard to himself, he is, in my opinion, an old, doti ridiculous, country squire; without the nowledge of either men or things; and the is below my notice, if it were not to despise him, Mr. Jen-worldkins. Jenk. Good lord! good lord! Mr. J. And advise him and his daughter to We all say the man was exceedingly knowing, Lion. If to dote on you more than life, be to deserve you, so far I have merit; if to have no wish, no hope, no thought, but you, can entitle me to the envied distinction of a moment's regard, so far I dare pretend. Clar. That I have this day refused a man, with whom I could not be happy, I make no merit: born for quiet and simplicity, the crowds of the world, the noise attending pomp and distinction, have no charms for me; I wish to pass my life in rational tranquillity, with a friend whose virtues I can respect, whose talents I can admire; who will make my esteem the basis of my affection. Lion. O charming creature! yes, let me indulge the flattering idea; formed with the same sentiments, the same feelings, the same tender passion for each other, nature designed us to compose that sacred union, which nothing but death can annul. Clar. One only thing remember. Secure in each other's affections, here we must rest; I would not give my father a moment's pain, to purchase the empire of the world. Lion. Command, dispose of me as you please; angels take cognizance of the vows of inno Lion. Heavens! 'tis Sir John Flowerdale. Sir J. Who's there? Lion. 'Tis I, Sir; I am here, Lionel. Sir J. My dear lad, I have been searching for you this half hour, and was at last told you had come into the garden; I have a piece of news, which I dare swear will shock and surprise you; my daughter has refused Colonel Oldboy's son, who is this minute departed the house in violent resentment of her ill treatment. Lion. Perhaps, Sir, the gentleman may have been too impetuous, and offended Miss Flowerdale's delicacy-certainly nothing else could Occasion Sir J. Heaven only knows-I think, indeed, there can be no settled aversion, and surely her affections are not engaged elsewhere. Lion. Engaged, Sir-No, Sir. Sir J. I think not, Lionel. Lion. You may be positive, Sir.—I'm sureSir J. O worthy young man, whose integrity, openness, and every good quality have rendered thee dear to me as my own child; I see this affair troubles' you as much as it does me. Lion. It troubles me indeed, Sir. Sir J. However, my particular disappointment ought not to be detrimental to you, nor shall it: I well know how irksome it is to a generous mind to live in a state of dependance, and have long had it in my thoughts to make you easy for life. Lion. Sir John, the situation of my mind at present is a little disturbed-spare me-1 beseech you, spare me; why will you persist in a goodness that makes me ashamed of myself? Sir J. There is an estate in this county which I purchased some years ago; by me it will never be missed, and whoever marries my daughter will have little reason to complain of my disposing of such a trifle for my own gratification. On the present marriage, I intended to perfect a deed of gift in your favour, which has been for some time prepared; my lawyer has this day completed it, and it is yours, my dear Lionel, with every good wish that the warmest friend can bestow. Lion. Sir, if you presented a pistol with design to shoot me, I would submit to it; but you must excuse me, I cannot lay myself under more obligations. Sir J. Your delicacy carries you too far; in this I confer a favour on myself: however, we'll talk no more on this subject at present, let us walk towards the house, our friends will depart else without my bidding them adieu. [Exeunt. Enter DIANA and CLARISSA. Diana. So then, my dear Clarissa, you really give credit to the ravings of that French wretch, with regard to a plurality of worlds? Clar. 1 don't make it an absolute article of belief, but I think it an ingenions conjecture, with great probability on its side. Diana. And we are & moon to the moon! Nay, child, I know something of astronomy, but that that little shining thing there, which seems not much larger than a silver plate, should perhaps contain great cities like Lon don; and who can tell but they may have kings there and parliaments, and plays and operas, and people of fashion! Lord, the people of fashion in the moon must be strange creatures. Clar. Methinks, Venus shines very bright in yonder corner. Diana. Venus! O pray let me look at Venus; I suppose, if there are any inhabitants there, they must be all lovers. Enter LIONEL. Lion. Was ever such a wretch-I can't stay a moment in a place; where is my repose?— fled with my virtue. Was I then born for falsehood and dissimulation? I was, I was, and I live to be conscious of it; to impose upon my friend; to betray my benefactor, and lie to hide my ingratitude a monster in a moment-No, I may be the most unfortunate of men, but I will not be the most odious; is honest, I will obey its voice. while my heart is yet capable of dictating what Enter COLONEL OLDBOY and HARMAN. chief, is this a time to be walking in the garCol. O. Dy, where are you? What the misden? The coach has been ready this half hour, and your mamma is waiting for you. Diana. I am learning astronomy, Sir; do you know, papa, that the moon is inhabited? self; come here; things have gone just as I Col. O. Hussy, you are half a lunatic yourimagined they would, the girl has refused your brother; I knew he must disgust her. Diana. Women will want taste now and then, Sir. Col. O. But I must talk to the young lady a little. with your father about the elopement, and he Har. Well, I have had a long conference continues firm in his opinion that I ought to attempt it: in short, all the necessary operations are settled between us, and I am to leave his house to-morrow morning, if I can but persuade the young lady have more sense-Lord, how can you teaze me Diana. Ay, but I hope the young lady will with your nonsense. Come, Sir, isn't it time for us to go in? Her ladyship will be impa tient. Miss Clarissa, my dear, though I am father to Col. O. Friend Lionel, good night to you ; the puppy who has displeased you, give me a kiss; you served him right, and I thank you for it. As well as night, A lover's hopes may bless. Diana. Farewell, my friend, Lion. Clar. Col. O. All. Calm each tumult in your breast, What have I done? Where shall I run, With grief and shame at once oppress'd; How my own upbraidings shun, Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet. O what a night is here for love! Nor murmuring streams, Can charm unless the heart's at ease. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in Colonel OLDBOY'S House. Enter HARMAN, booted, followed by DIANA. Diana. Pr'ythee, hear me. Har. My dear, what would you say? Diana. I am afraid of the step we are going to take; indeed I am: 'tis true, my father is the contriver of it; but really on consideration, I think I should appear less culpable if he was not so; I am at once criminal myself, and rendering him ridiculous. Har. Do you love me? Diana. Suppose I do, you give me a very ill proof of your love for me, when you would take advantage of my tenderness, to blind my reason: how can you have so little regard for my honour as to sacrifice it to a vain triumph? for it is in that light I see the rash action you are forcing me to commit; nay, methinks my consenting to it should injure me in your own esteem. When a woman forgets what she owes herself, a lover should set little value upon any thing she gives to him. Har. Can you suppose then, can you imagine, that my passion will ever make me forget the veneration-And an elopement is nothing, when it is on the road to matrimony. Diana. At best I shall incur the censure of disobedience and indiscretion; and is it nothing to a young woman what the world says of her? Ah! my good friend, be assured such a disregard of the world is the first step to wards deserving its reproaches. Har. But the necessity we are under-Mankind has too much good sense, too much good nature Diana. Every one has good sense enough to see other people's faults, and good nature enough to overlook their own. Besides, the most sacred things may be made an ill use of, and even marriage itself, if indecently and improperly Har. Come, get yourself ready: where is your band-box, hat and cloak? Slip into the garden; be there at the iron gate, which you showed me just now; and as the post-chaise comes round, I will step and take you in. Diana. Dear Harman, let me beg of you to desist. on. Har. Dear Diana, let me beg of you to go Diana. I shall never have resolution to carry me through it. Har. We shall have four horses my dear, and they will assist us. Diana. In short-1-cannot go with you. Har. But before me-Into the gardenWont you? [Exit DIANA on one side. Enter COLONEL OLDBOY, on the other. Col. O. Hey-day! what's the meaning of this? Who is it went out of the room there? Have you and my daughter been in conference, Mr. Harman? Har. Yes, faith, Sir, she has been taking me to task here very severely with regard to this affair; and she has said so much against it, and put it into such a strange light Col. O. A busy, impertinent baggage ;'egad, I wish I had catched her meddling, and after I ordered her not: but you have sent to the girl, and you say she is ready to go with you; you must not disappoint her now. Har. No, no, colonel; I always have politeness enough to hear a lady's reasons, but constancy enough to keep a will of my own. Col, O. Very well-now let me ask youdon't you think it would be proper, upon this occasion, to have a letter ready writ for the father, to let him know who has got his daughter, and so forth? Har. Certainly, Sir; and I'll write it directly. Col. O. You write it! you be damned! I wont trust you with it; I tell you, Harman, you'll the management of this whole affair to me: I commit some cursed blunder if you don't leave have writ the letter for you myself. Har. Have you, Sir? Col. O. Ay-here, read it; I think it's the thing; however you are welcome to make any alteration. Har. [Reads.] Sir, I have loved your daughter a great while secretly; she assures me there is no hopes of your consenting to our marriage; I therefore take her without it. I am a gentleman who will use her well: and when you consider the matter, I dare swear you will be willing to give her a fortune. If not, you will find I dare behave myself like a man-A word to the wise-you may expect to hear from me in another style. Col. O. Now, Sir, I will tell you what you must do with this letter: as soon as you have got off with the girl, Sir, send your servant back to leave it at the house, with orders to have it delivered to the old gentleman. Har. Upon my honour, I will, colonel. Col. O. But, upon my honour, I don't believe you'll get the girl: come, Harman, I'll bet you a buck and six dozen of Burgundy, that you wont have spirit enough to bring this affair to a crisis. Har. And I say done first, colonel. Col. O. Then look into the court there, Sir; a chaise with four of the prettiest bay geldings in England, with two boys in scarlet and silver jackets, that will whisk you along. Har. Boys! Colonel? Little Cupids, to transport me to the summit of my desires. Col. O. Ay, but for all that, it mayn't be amiss for me to talk to them a little out of the window for you. Dick, come hither; you are to go with this gentleman, and do whatever he bids you, and take into the chaise whoever he pleases, and drive like devils, do you hear; but be kind to the dumb beasts. Har. Leave that to me, Sir-And so, my dear colonel, bon voyage! (Exit. Enter LADY MARY OLDBOY, and JENNY. Lady M. Mr. Oldboy, here is a note from Sir John Flowerdale; it is addressed to me, entreating my son to come over there again this morning. A maid brought it: she is in the anti-chamber-We had better speak to her --Child, child, why don't you come in? Jenny. I choose to stay where I am, if your ladyship pleases. Lady M. Stay where you are? why so? Jenny. I am afraid of the old gentleman there. Col. O. Afraid of me, hussy? Lady M. Pray, colonel, have patienceAfraid-Here is something at the bottom of this-- What did you mean by that expression, child? Jenny. Why the Colonel knows very well, Madam; he wanted to be rude with me yester day. Lady M. Oh, Mr. Oldboy! Col. O. Lady Mary don't provoke me, but let me talk to the girl about her business. How came you to bring this note here? Jenny. Why, Sir John gave it to me, to deliver to my uncle Jenkins, and I took it down to his house; but while we were talking together, he remembered that he had some business with Sir John, so he desired me to bring it, because he said it was not proper to be sent by any of the common servants. Lady M. Colonel, look in my face, and help blushing if you can. Col. Ŏ. What the plague's the matter, my lady? I have not been wronging you now, as you call it. Jenny. Indeed, Madam, he offered to make me his kept Madam; am sure his usage of me put me into such a twitter, that I did not know what I was doing all the day after. Lady M. I don't doubt it, though I so lately forgave him; but, as the poet says, his sex is all deceit. Read Pamela, child, and resist temptation. Jenny. Yes, Madam, I will. Col. O. Why I tell you, my lady, it was all a joke. Jenny. No, Sir, it was no joke: you made me a proffer of money, so you did, whereby I told you, you had a lady of your own, and that though she was old you had no right to despise her. Lady M. And how dare you, mistress, make use of my name? Is it for such trollops as you to talk of persons of distinction behind their backs? Jenny. Why, Madam, I only said you was in vears. Lady M. Sir John Flowerdale shall be informed of your impertinence, and you shall be turned out of the family; I see you are a conident creature, and I believe you are no better than you should be. Jenny. I scorn your words, Madam. I don't want to stay; And so I'm your ladyship's servant. [Exit. Mr. J. What is the matter here? Lady M. I will have a separate maintenance, I will indeed. Only a new instance of your father's infidelity, my dear. Then with such low wretches, farmers' daughters and servant wenches; but any thing with a cap on, 'tis all the same to him. Mr. J. Upon my word, Sir, I am sorry to tell you, that those practices very ill suit the character which you ought to endeavour to support in the world. Lady M. Is this a recompense for my love and regard? I, who have been tender and faithful as a turtle dove. Mr. J. A man of your birth and distinction should, methinks, have views of a higher nature, than such low, such vulgar libertinism. Lady M. Consider my birth and family too; Lady Mary Jessamy might have had the best matches in England. Mr. J. Then, Sir, your gray hairs. Lady M. I that have brought you so many lovely sweet babes. Mr. J. Nay, Sir, it is a reflection on me. Lady M. The heinous sin tooMr. J. Indeed, Sir, I blush for you. Col. O. 'Sdeath and fire, you little effeminate puppy, do you know who you talk to?-And you, Madam, do you know who I am?-Get up to your chamber, or zounds! I'll make such a Lady M. Ah! my dear, come away from him. [Exit. Col. O. Am I to be tutored and called to account? Enter SERVANT. How now, you scoundrel, what do you want? Serv. A letter, Sir. Col. O. A letter from whom, sirrah? Serv. The gentleman's servant, an't please your honour, that left this just now in the postchaise-the gentleman my young lady went away with. Col. O. Your young lady, sirrah-Your young lady went away with no gentleman, you dog-What gentleman? What young lady, sirrah? Mr. J. With your leave, Sir, I'll open the letter. Cal. O. What are you going to do, you jackanapes? you sha'n't open a letter of mine-Dy -Diana-Somebody call my daughter to me Lady M. Get out of the room; how dare you there-[Reads.] To John Oldboy, Esq.-Sir,-1 stay in this room to talk impudently to me? have loved your daughter a great while secretly Jenny. Very Well, Madam, I shall let my-Consenting to our marriage Mr. J. So, so. Col. O. You villain-you dog, what is it you have brought me here? Serv. Please your honour, if you'll have patience, I'll tell your honour-As I told your honour before, the gentleman's servant that went off just now in the post chaise, came to the gate, and left it after his master was gone. I saw my young lady go into the chaise with the gentleman. Mr. J. Why, colonel this is your own hand. Col. O. Call all the servants in the house, let horses be saddled directly-every one také a different road. Serv. Why, your honour, Dick said it was by your own orders. Col. O. My orders, rascal? I thought he was going to run away with another gentleman's daughter-Dy-Diana Oldboy. [Exit SERVANT. Mr. J. Don't waste your lungs to no purpose, Sir; your daughter is half a dozen miles off by this time. Col. O. Sirrah, you have been bribed to further the scheme of a pickpocket here. Mr. J. Besides, the matter is entirely of your own contriving, as well as the letter and spirit of this elegant epistle. Col. O. You are a coxcomb, and I'll disinherit you; the letter is none of my writing; it was writ by the devil, and the devil contrived it. Diana, Margaret, my Lady Mary, William, John[Exit. Mr. J. I am very glad of this, prodigiously glad of it, upon my honour-he, he, he!-it will be a jest this hundred years. [Bells ring violently on both sides.] What's the matter now? O! her ladyship has heard of it, and is at her bell; and the colonel answers her. A pretty duet, but a little too much upon the forte, methinks: it would be a diverting thing now, to stand unseen at the old gentleman's elbow. [Exit. Re-enter COLONEL OLDBOY, with one boot, a great coat on his arm, &c. followed by several SERVANTS. Col. O. She's gone, by the Lord; fairly stolen away, with that poaching, coney-catching rascal! However I wont follow her; no, damme; take my whip, and my cap, and my coat, and order the groom to unsaddle the horses; I wont follow her the length of a spurleather. Come here, you Sir, and pull off my boot. [Whistles.] She has made a fool of me once, she sha'n't do it a second time; not but I'll be revenged too, for I'll never give her sixpence; the disappointment will put the scoundrel out of temper, and he'll thrash her a dozen times a day; the thought pleases me; I hope he'll do it :--what do you stand gaping and staring at, you impudent dogs? are you laughing at me? I'll teach you to be merry at [Beats the SERVANTS off. my expense. Clar. Where have you been, Jenny? I was inquiring for you-why will you go out without letting me know? Jenny. Dear Ma'am, never any thing happened so unlucky; I am sorry you wanted me -But I was sent to Colonel Oldboy's with a letter; where I have been so used-Lord have mercy upon me-quality indeed-I say quality-pray, Madam, do you think that I looks any ways like an immodest parson-to be sure I have a gay air, and I can't help it, and I loves to appear a little genteelish, that's what I do. Clar. Jenny, take away this book. Jenny. Heaven preserve me, Madam, you are crying. Clar. O my dear Jenny! Jenny. My dear mistress, what's the matter? Clar. I am undone. Jenny. No, Madam; no, Lord forbid ! Clar. I am indeed-I have been rash enough to discover my weakness for a man who treats me with contempt. Jenny. Is Mr. Lionel ungrateful then? Clar. I have lost his esteem for ever, Jenny. Since last night, that I fatally confessed what I should have kept a secret from all the world, he has scarce condescended to cast a look at me, nor given me an answer when I spoke to him, but with coldness and reserve. Jenny. Then he is a nasty, barbarous, inhuman brute. Clar. Hold, Jenny, hold; it is all my fault. Jenny. Your fault, Madam! I wish I was to hear such a word come out of his mouth: if he was a minister to-morrow, and to say such a thing from his pulpit, and I by, I'd tell him it was false upon the spot. [Knocks. Clar. Somebody's at the door; see who it is. Jenny. You in fault indeed-that I know to be the most virtuousest, nicest, most delicat est Clar. How now? Jenny. Madam, it's a message from Mr. Lionel. If you are alone and at leisure, he would be glad to wait upon you: I'll tell him, Madam, that you are busy. Clar. Where is he, Jenny? Jenny. In the study, the man says. be glad to see him; but do not bring him up Clar. Then go to him, and tell him I should immediately, because I will stand in the balcony a few minutes for a little air. Jenny. Do so, dear Madam, for your eyes too; mercy on us, for what do you grieve are as red as ferrets'; you are ready to faint on me, it's very well I wasn't born a lady. and vex yourself?-if I was as you-mercy [Exit. Clar. Oh! Why with sighs my heart is swelling, |