1 ACT II. SCENE 1.] Mich. Be satisfied: I'll keep nothing from you; but when I open that trunk, I shall think I'm in company with my shipwreck'd friend, and that his spirit will witness for me. My curiosity is excited more for the happiness of his boy, than for any paltry recompense I may expect, for the discharge of the first duty of the human heart-kindness to the unfortunate. DUETT.-MICHAEL and NELL. Mich. As the compass true, believe me, Nell. If thy Nelly ever grieve thee, Never faithful woman spoke. Mich. By those eyes, my planets steering— Thou the pilot, safe we go ; Mich. Never from affection veering, Nell. Briskly may the breezes blow. Both. Now for life's uncertain weather, ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-The Inside of Michael's house continued. Enter MICHAEL, with a trunk, sealed up. Mich. I have closed the hatchways, and the decks are all clear. I feel just now for all the world like a commander going into an engagement, determined to do his duty, eager for victory, yet not without remembering that a battle may be lost as well as won. (Breaks the seal.) This is the key-what's here? (Opens the trunk, and takes out The child with whom this a paper, then reads.) trunk is found has lawful claim to the whole estate of Milford Castle, at the death of Sir Edmund. The writings within will explain the rest, and guide to the only copy of the Baron's will, now in the chapel of the Castle. Whoever finds this, and faithfully executes the trust, will meet with his reward, if needy, in the silken purse within, besides an annuity of fifty pounds when he shall be in possession of his estate." Nell must not know this yet; it will turn her brain. She will be like a sudden squall, a hurricane that whisks at once round every point of the compass. I should like to see the purse though; a little ready cash will be useful. Let's see; how shall I break it to him? I must make a friend of Record, to examine the papers. Lucky little dog! De, I've done my duty by him, that's one comfort though. It would have been a pretty business if I had let him go. Enter NELL in haste. Nell. We're ruin'd, Michael! we are ruin'd! Mich. (Hiding the trunk.) Don't be in such a hurry. No! we a'n't ruin'd-not ruin'd, Nell. Nell. I tell you, they have stolen the poor boy away, and are dragging him I can't tell where: I saw him struggling till his little strength was gone: they have taken him quite out of sight. Mich. Which way? Who have got him? Nell. Over the-O, two such ill-looking fellows. Mich. De but I'll be up with them: give me down my pistols. Don't look into that trunk; I'll tell you all; shut the papers in close. Poor little soul!-take care of the trunk!-I shall never make press of sail enough after him. Don't look into the trunk, Nell. O, the villains! [Exit. Nell. Yes, I'll take care of it; but, for fear of interruption, I'll go with it up stairs, and there have an opportunity of satisfying my curiosity. Ah! knew dreaming of those huge precipices boded no good. SONG.-NELL. If woman is curious, sure nature's to blame, And would fain find it out? Then how to please woman, I'll tell you the plan, If they would but consult, in most matters, their 'Tis strange they don't try it, Only prudent and cool: Then how to please woman, I'll tell you the plan, SCENE II.-Outside of Milford Castle. Enter SIR BERTRAND and LE SAGE. Le Sage. All manag'd to a charm: they have got him away without suspicion of us, and I have just written to remove him again from St. Nicholas; where he will be quite out of their recovery. Sir Ber. That's well; then soon the lovely Clara shall be the fair mistress of these extensive possessions. While Sir Edmund lived, I dared not oblige her, but now-she knows not of our arrival, does she? Le Sage. Not a syllable: she occupies a part of the old convent where I have lodged the boy, but knows not of your arrival, nor of Edmund's death. Sir Ber. Thus far, then, we glide on smoothly. Sir Ber. No, Le Sage; who takes what he knows to be another's right, must have confidence, indeed; but a merry heart will not be among his possessions. Le Sage. Mere vapours! a glass or two of the old convent wine will alter your opinion. SCENE III. The Armory in the Castle. Enter LUCY and SPRUCE. Lucy. This is the last of our curiosities, sir; we have been all round the castle now, and I hope you like our situation. Spruce. Vastly, vastly, my dear. Lucy. I hope you don't believe I had any hand in locking you up; it was all Mr. Record's own doing, I can assure you, sir. Spruce. Not at all, my love, not at all; I shall settle the old boy in a twinkling, when I am a little to rights. Lucy. And you won't forget me: I should be sorry to lose my place now such fine people are coming. Spruce. Lose your place! you shall not, by this, and this. Depend upon it I'll settle you too. (Kissing her.) Lucy. Thank you, sir! Lord, this will be something like living. (A door shuts within with a hollow sound.) Mercy on me! they are all coming in with Record's key, and will be up the winding staircase in a moment. We must not be found here; I shall be ruin'd; we have no way out but that by which they come. Spruce. Never fear, put me in any where, only make haste. Lucy. Well, well; here! you can creep behind that black armour; don't breathe for your life; they'll only pass on, and we can slip back when they are gone through. (Spruce places himself behind the armour.) Spruce. Perhaps I am not the first coward that has trembled behind this suit of armour. Lucy. I'll get into this case where Record keeps his best armour; I see he has left the key and believes it locked.-(Goes into the case.) Enter SIR BERTRAND, LE SAGE, and RECORD. Rec. You see, right noble, I've done my duty; every thing is in the completest order Sir Ber. I'm satisfied, and shall reward you accordingly. Le Sage. For what are these piles of arms preserved? Rec, To arm your tenants and followers, most victorious! in case of civil commotions; they were of great import to Sir Edmund's grandsire; and my father followed him, when a younker, in that helmet and coat of mail, in his troublesome days. Sir Ber. He was at Palestine, in the holy wars; was he not? Rec. He was, right reverend: and I can shew you the armour which he prized upon those occasions-(Approuching the case where Lucy is concealed.) It often preserved his life in great perils. He never went to the holy wars without it, and slept with it every night in his tent.-I myself have now the care of it, and indeed I value it as much as the old warrior did: but I only regard it now as a curiosity, and am obliged to be very tender with it. (Opens the case, and discovers Lucy.) Le Sage. Heav'ns! a woman! Sir Ber. An excellent companion for the holy wars! Rec. I'm dumb, most terrific! Did I not order you to stay in the chapel till my returu? and how the devil got you in here? speak! (An arm from the black armour falls.) What's that? why here's witchcraft, in very truth. Le Sage. That armour moves, Sir Bertrand.Sir Ber. Which? Which? Le Sage,-what's the meaning of all this? do you know? Le Sage. I'll have it down if the devil's there. (Drawing his sword. Lucy screams.) Spruce. (Coming out.) 'Tis only 1, sir; I hope no offence: but this young woman was shewing me all her-no, your curiosities, sir, and hearing you approach, we fear'd you might be angry, so we concealed ourselves till you were gone by. Lucy. Indeed, that's all; as he was just come to his new place, I thought I would shew him the nature of it. Rec. Go down, hussy: wait below till I come, most impudent; I shall pay you off directly. [Exit Lacy. Sir Ber. Don't be so hasty. As to you, sir, I shall desire Record to put you to some employ ment Rec. I will, most dignified! Come with me. So, putting a little flesh upon my bones did not seem to be all your intention here, eh? [Exeunt Record and Spruce. Sir Ber. Now, Le Sage, we are satisfied there is no copy left of the original will destroyed, we may with greater security proceed. Send the boy beyond sea, and there let him be despatched. Le Sage. "Tis done: by this he's safe. Lose not sight of Record, he may still be useful; should he prove otherwise, or turn refractory, we must provide for him. [Exeunt, SCENE. IV.-A retired part of a Forest. The remains of a Convent on the side. Enter MICHAEL. I have lost him now for ever, that's plain. I have wander'd up and down through every track of the forest, and all to no purpose. Poor boy! how he'll grieve after me! his little heart will break-mine is gone to pieces already-quite water logg'd.-And Nell, too-well, I must not repineThe same Providence that threw him into my arms from shipwreck, may again think fit to save him. I'm quite faint and parch'd, I'll taste this running stream; here's a cap chain'd to the stone for wearied strangers. (As he stoops to drink, the boy sings from within. Flint. This purse is to have its fellow, when I take back evidence of the boy being safe on board. The smuggling boat is ready, but the way to it bad; O! there's the old convent! Now for my letter; if the boy's troublesome, this shall muzzle him. (Michael, overhearing, comes forward.) Mich. What are you going to do with that letter? Flint. What am I going to do? that's a pretty question: who the devil are you? Mich. I am not used to turn assassin, believe me: but you must be plain, or two minutes will close your mouth for ever. The boy you are going for is in that house. Flint. He is. Mich. And you are employ'd to murder him? Flint. Pull off my coat? Mich. No words-but do it this moment. Flint. Well, well, there. (Putting off his coat.) you are not going to take anything else from me? Mich. No: keep your money, and if you can, enjoy it. Your coat I only borrow: it shall be your's again. [Exit Flint.] (Taking up the coat.) 'Tis lawful in some cases to hoist false colours; and d——— if I must play the hypocrite, 'tis better to wear the villain's outside, so I am right and tight within, than to clothe a heart rotten at the core with the robes of honesty. [Exit. SCENE V.-Inside of the Convent. Enter CLARA and BOY. Boy. Indeed I could be happy with you as with anybody but that I love my poor father and mother so dearly. What are they going to do with me? I am sure I never injured them. Clara. You are sent here to be under my protection, and I will endeavour to make you comfortable. Alas! I fear by Le Sage directing this, some foul play; if so, and I lose Sir Edmund's protection, my ruin will be complete. Boy. My father Michael always told me to fear nothing but doing a bad action. I have kept the heaven will not look on without regard, nor suffer SCENE VI.-An Apartment in the Castle. Enter RECORD and NELL. Nell. We know you are our friend, Mr. Record, and trust the whole to you! Michael, I'm sure, depends upon your honour. Rec. That he may with safety, most adorable!— I won't utter a syllable about the papers till the proper moment: when will Michael be here? Nell. O! I can't tell; he is gone in search of the poor boy; and heaven only knows whether be will find him or not: perhaps they have kill'd him, and Michael lost his life in defending him. Rec. Don't despond, most affectionate: he will while we are come back to you; and now let me, quite alone, just taste the nectar of those lips, most —(Attempting to kiss her.) Enter LUCY, who discovers him. Nell. For shame! Mr. Record, what are you about? Lucy. Mr. Record! Rec. What brought you here, most curious, eh? Lucy. I beg pardon, sir; but a lady desires to see you directly. (Aside to Record.) I see Michael's wife makes all his friends welcome. [Exit. Rec. Take care of the papers, Mrs. Nelly, and [Exeunt. follow me. SCENE VII.-The Inside of the chapel. lesson close, and I wish he could see me now, that SIR BERTRAND and LE SAGE meet CLARA and am not afraid. Poor dear Michael! Enter JANNETTE and MICHAEL, disguised. Clara. What ruffian are you to break in upon our solitude without notice and due respect? Jan. Madam! he has found his way through the grotto from the forest: he has frightened me almost out of my wits; he says he has a letter for you. Boy. Don't be alarmed, he shall not hurt you; O, I'm almost afraid to look at him. RECORD. Clara. Sir Bertrand here! then I'm undone. Sir Ber. Now, lovely Clara; I can make you most happy; at last, you see me lord of this fair shall be its mistress. castle, and you Rec. (Aside.) This is very familiar at first sight, I think. Clara. No, Sir Bertrand, that can never be; I come to claim a right on behalf of injured innoWhere cence. Le Sage must give the answer. is the child, you hypocrite? Where is the ruffian, to whom you committed him? Mich. 'Tis he! his little soul breaks out. (Aside.) Le Sage. Haughty madam, this is not a time to Do not terrify yourself, fair lady; I am no ruffian, though I believe I look very like one. (Aside.) interrogate my proceedings; your home from henceThat letter will tell you my business. (Gives a let-forth is here. That boy!-what of that boy?--why do you inquire? ter, and drops a paper.) Clara. Signed Le Sage, as I foreboded. But what can all this mean? 'Tis to no purpose my inquiry; I am myself unprotected, and can afford no help to others. This is the child! My dear boy, it afflicts me to part with you, you must go. but Boy. What! must I go with him? O! Michael! what would I give to see you once more! Mich. I cannot hold out much longer. (Aside.) I must crowd sail, or shall lose my weather-gauge : fair lady, your servant. Boy. Where are we going? If you mean to kill me, let me tell my beads first. Mich. Kill you! O, no! I did not think I looked so diabolical as that neither. [Exeunt Michael and Boy. Clara. (Looking after him.) Farewell! farewell! I cannot think why I take such an interest in that boy. Ah me! what's here? (taking up the paper, reads.) "The child with whom this trunk is found, has lawful claim to the whole estate of Milford Castle, at the death of Sir Edmund." Amazement! this must be my brother!--and Le Sage, by employing this wretch, must have found the papers. Gracious heaven! then my dear father is lost for ever, and his child within the fangs of that miscreant agent! I'll to the castle instantly, although my life should pay the forfeit of my rashness. Just Rec. Be cool, most vehement, be cool! Clara. That boy! The wretch you sent to murder him, I suppose, was not quite collected in his business, or he would not have left this behind him. Know you that hand? (Shewing the paper.) What, you pause? Le Sage. This is some mystery, beyond my cunning to develope. Clara. It is my honoured father's hand, and that child my brother. Restore him to me, or his blood his oppressors shall be upon your heads, and sweep from the earth. Sir Ber. By this he is properly bestowed: this raving is useless; 'twere better you prepare to share the splendour of this scene. Clara. No, never. I'll to the world proclaim such villany, though I beg my daily crust from door to door. (Going.) Sir Bet. Not so hasty, Clara; you must not, shall not leave me. (Struggling with her.) Clara. For pity's sake, assist me, heaven!(Breaks from him and meets Michael entering.) Mich. What, more injuries! Human nature can't endure them. Clara. That ruffian here! then all is lost. Sir Ber. What insolence is this? how came you here? who are you? Clara. Who are you? Matchless hypocrisy! You know him not, nor his business? Mich. Who am I? Look on this weather-beaten brow, and tell me whether you can read aught there that could deserve injustice at your hands? Look still, and say do you discover fear to resent it? Sir Ber. What injuries are you speaking of? Mich. What injuries? Do you know a villain of the name of Le Sage, and does he know another of the name of Flint? Le Sage. (Drawing.) Who has given your tongue this license? Mich. Put up your steel; I've seen too many of them in my time to tremble at your's; a good cudgel is all the weapon an honest cause wants, and more than a bad one will encounter. Sir Ber. Leave the castle this instant. Record and Spruce, why don't you turn the fellow out? Rec. I am too weak-most potent! Mich. Because they know I have higher orders than your's to remain here Le Sage. Whose are they? Mich. The Baron's of Milford Castle. Mich. I'll shew you in the veering of a point; Eh! what! (Searching his pockets.) D the paper's gone! the rudder carried away just coming into harbour Clara. What do you mean? Are you then his friend? what paper have you lost? Is it this? (Giving him the paper.) Mich. This! eh? this! yes, yes, it is, sure enough! Now I'll produce the commander of this station. (Goes out and returns with Boy and Nell.) Clara. (Runs and embraces him.) It is he again! Mich. Yes, that it is, I'll swear to him as I would to my own right hand. Sir Ber. This is all forgery. Rec. I'm afraid not, most unfortunate! for Mrs. Nelly and I have been looking over some papers in a trunk Le Sage. What papers? Mich. Those which his father delivered to me on his death-bed. Sir Ber. Now you are detected. Where was that, villain; for his father was cast away at sea? Clara. Nell. To honour's sway This happy day Its proudest laurels owing; By ev'ry breast, With gratitude o'erflowing. Chorus. The castle walls resounding, &c. &c. With transport and delight." [Exeunt. A COMIC OPERA, IN TWO ACTS.-BY CHARLES DIBDIN. LUBIN comes over the stile with a stick and bundle on his shoulder. AIR AND DUETT.-LUBIN and CICELY. Lub. 'Midst thrushes, blackbirds, nightingales, Whose songs are echo'd from the vales, Trudging along through thick and thin, Thank fate, at last I've reach'd the door. (Knocks at the Cottage door.) How pleas'd they'll be to let me in! And yet ne'er leaving her before, Cice. (At the window.) Who's there, I trow? Lub. Look out, good mother, don't you know? 'Tis Lubin. How does Gillian do? And Hodge, and Margery, and Sue? Cice. Not a whit better, sir, for you. Lub. Cice. Why, what's the matter? why d'ye frown? You shall know all when I come down. Lub. What is the meaning of all this? Oh! here she comes. Enter CICELY. Well, what's amiss? Cice. Who are you, making all this stir? This treatment is enough to quite Cice. Good lack-a-day! and do you bite, Lub. But you are jesting— Cice. Lub. Where's Gillian? Cice. Think so still. She's not here: |