Brush. Had not you better defer it, till tomorrow morning, sir? Perhaps, then Ber. No, no; directly; do as I bid you. Brush. Consider, sir, if your mind should change, the trouble of coming back post-hasteBev. No, never, I say never: what! to her, who could smile on me, on him, on a thousand? No; she shall know that I am a man, and no longer the dupe of her artifice. Brush. But, sir, you know, that one solitary tear, which, after miserably chaffing for it half an hour together, she will painfully distil from the corner of her eye, will extinguish all this rage, and then ter. Bev. Po, po! You know nothing of the mat- out. Bev. Pack up all, sir. I shall stay in the country a whole month, if it be necessary. Brush. An entire month, sir? Bev. I am resolved, fixed, and determined; and so do as I have ordered you.-[Exit BRUSH.] -So shall I disentangle myself from her entirely, so shall I forget the fondness my foolish heart had conceived for her. I hate her, loath her, pity her, am sorry for her, and love her still. I must expel this weakness: I will think no more of her and yet-Brush, Brush! I may as well see her letter, too: only to try what her cunning can suggest. 6 Enter BRUSH. You may as well leave the letter, Brush. Brush. Yes, sir; I thought as much. [Exit. Bev. Now, what varnish will she put upon the matter?--[Reads.]- The false gaiety of my heart, through which my dear Beverley might have read my real anguish, at our last meeting, has now subsided. If you will come to me, I 'will not laugh at your inquietude of temper, but will clear all your doubts, and shew you how much I am, my dearest Beverley, unalterably yours. Enter CLARISSA and BELLMONT. Cla. So, brother. Bel. Beverley! Bev. Sister, your servant; Mr Bellmont, yours. Cla. You seem melancholy, brother? Bev. No, not I. I am in very good spirits. Cla. Ha, ha! My dear brother, that is seen through: you are now upon the rack. Bev. What, about a woman, a false, ungrateful woman! Bel. Whom you still admire. Cia. To whom you'll be upon your knees in five minutes. Bev. You are mistaken: I am going out of town. Bel. But you will take your leave? Bev. She has; and there-there you see the effect of her letter. You will see, that I shall maintain a proper firmness on the occasion. Bel. My dear Beverley, have done with this mockery: you but deceive yourself. Bev. You want to deceive me, sir: but it is in vain. What! plead for treachery, for falsehood, for deceit! Cla. No, sir; but for my friend, my lovely friend; for Belinda, for truth, for innocence. Bev. You don't know all the circumstances. Cla. But we do know all the circumstances; and, my dear brother, you have behaved very ill. Bev. Heaven knows, I have not; and yet, Heaven knows, I should be glad to be convinced I have. Cla. I will be your friend, and give you a hint. We women are soft and compassionate in our nature; go to her without delay, fall at her feet, beg her pardon, drop a tear or two, and all will be well again. Bev. Do you come to make sport of me? may contempt and beggary attend me; may all the calamities of life befall me; may shame, confusion, and disquiet of heart for ever sting me, if I hold further intercourse with her; if I do not put her from my thoughts for ever! Did you leave her at home? Cla. We did. Bev. Well, let her stay there: it is of no consequence to me. How did she bear what passed between us? 'BELINDA BLANDFORD.' Pshaw! Po! Satisfy my doubts! I have no doubts; I am convinced. These arts prevail no more. Ha, ha-[Laughs peevishly. My dear Beverly,[Reads, and tears the letter by degrees. Real anguish'-ha, ha!-[Tears another piece. Inquietude of temper-[Another piece.] clear all your doubts'-Po, po, po! ha, Cla. Like a sweet girl, as she is: she behaved ha, ha! damnation! I'll think no more of her-like an angel: I shall love her better than ever [Tears another bit.]-Ha, ha !- Dearest Bever- for her good humour. Jey'- -ha, ha! artful woman!- unalterably yours--false, false, false !--[Tears another piece.]-I'll not make myself uneasy about her. Perfidy, treachery, and ingratitude!-[Fixes his eye, looks uneasy, and tears the letter in a violent passion.] Bev. Oh! I don't doubt her good humour.— She has smiles at command, Let her smile, or not smile, 'tis all alike to me. Did she say any thing? Cla. She told us the whole story, and told it in tears, too. Cla. She will love will plead your cause. Bev. My dear sister, I am for ever obliged to you; and, Bellmont, I thank you, too. How could I wrong her so? I shall behold her once again. Is the chariot ready? I cannot help laughing at my own rashuess. I won't stay for it; I am on the wing, my dear Belinda, to implore forgiveness. And so she fainted away in the Park, and my lady Restless saw sir John afford relief? Ha, ha, ha! Whimsical enough.Ha, ha, ha! What a strange construction her crazy temper put upon it? Ha, ha! How could the woman be so foolish? My dear. Belinda, I will fly to you this moment-ha, ha!--[Going, returns. Sir John shall give me back the picture, and, on my knees, I will once more present to her. Cla. You planted daggers in Belinda's heart. And it was barbarous. What, because a lady has not strength enough to bear up against a father, who is resolved to give her away to another, and because she faints out of excessive tenderness for you, aud in that distress meets acci-it dental relief from sir John Restless, at his own door Bev. How! Cla. And because my lady Restless sees this out of her window, and has a perverse talent of misinterpreting appearances into realities, to her own disadvantage; you must, therefore, fill your head with ungenerous suspicions? Oh! For shame, brother! how could you? Bev. But, is all this true? Is it really the case? Bel. How can you doubt it? You know Belinda too well: it is the case, man. How could Bev. I should be glad to find it 30. Cla. Well! I tell you it is so. you think otherwise? You know she has the best heart in the world, and is so nice of honour, that she scorns all falsehood and dissimulation. Bel. Ha, ha! my dear Beverley, you have done the absurdest thing! Bev. Why, if what you say can be made to appear-but, then, she'll never forgive my past behaviour. Cla. Po! You talk, as if you were wholly unlettered in the tempers of women. My dear brother, you know, you men can do what you please with us, when you have once gained an interest in our hearts. Go to her, I say, go to her, and make your peace. Bev. May I depend upon what you say? Bev. Then I'll fly to her this instant, humble myself to her, and promise, by all my future life, to atone for this brutal injury. Enter BRUSH. Brush. The chaise is at the door, sir. Cla. So, so! you are come to yourself, I find. Bel. I knew it would be so. Tip. He is, madam. Belin. And what answer? Tip. Sir John will wait upon you himself, madam, directly. Belin. Very well! I must get him to set every Bev. You may put up again; I shan't go out thing in its true light, and justify my conduct to of town. Brush. No, sir! Bev. No-ha, ha! You may put up, and let me have the chariot directly. Brush. Yes, sir; I knew it would come to this. [Exit BRUSH. Bev. But do you think she will forgive me? Mr Beverley. And yet, the uncertainty of Beverley's temper alarms me strangely. His eternal suspicions but there is nothing in that: my future conduct, my regard for him, will cure that disease, and then Tip. I dare be sworn it will, madam. Belin. Shew him in. Tippet, do you leave the be answerable to me. room. Enter SIR JOHN. Sir John. In compliance with your commands, madain Belin. I am obliged to you, sir, for the trouble you have been pleased to give yourself. A particular circumstance has happened in your family, to my utter disquiet. Sir John. Madam, there have happened things in my family, to my utter disquiet, too. Belin. I am sorry for that, sir. I have been made quite unhappy, and must beg, as it is in your power, that you will be kind enough to remove the cause of my uneasiness. Sir John. Whatever I can do, you may command. Belin. Sir, I thank you, and must tell you, that your lady has done me the most irreparable injury. Sir John. She has done the same to me. My injuries are irreparable, too. But how has she injured you, madam ? Belin. She has ruined me, sir, with the man I love to distraction. Sir John. Now, here something else will come to light. [Aside.]-How, how has she done that, madam? Lelin. She has entirely drawn off his tions from me. affec Sir John. And fixed them upon herself, I suppose? Belin. I don't say that, sir. Belin. Answerable to you! Sir John. To me, madain. I told you at first this was her scheme to shelter herself; and he, I suppose, is combined with her to give this turn to the affair, and to charge me with infidelity. But you, madam, can witness for me. Belin. I can, sir: but can Mr Beverley be capable of a dishonourable action? Sir John. That point is clear enough. He has injured me in the highest degree, destroyed my happiness. Belin. How, sir! are you sure of this? Sir John. He has given her his picture; I caught her with her eyes rivetted to it; I heard her admiration, her praises of it; her wishes, that she had been married to such a man. I saw her print a thousand kisses on it; and, in the very fact, I wrested it out of her hand. Belin. If I imagined him capable of what you say, I should scarcely be willing to join myself to him for life. Quarrel with me about his picture, and at the same time give it to another'! Sir John. Lady Restless had the picture. Without doubt, you must be very happy with a man of his gallantry. Belin. Happy, sir! I should be miserable; distracted; I should break my heart. But do you think you have sufficient proof? Sir John. I have seen him coming out of my house since, clandestinely, shunning every observant eye, with the characters of guilt in his face; and all the discourse I had with him, served only to convince me the more. Belin. Abandoned wretch! was this the love Sir John. But I dare say it; and I believe it. he professed for me? Sir, I have only to hope Belin. Pardon me, sir, I don't charge the lady you will vindicate me in this matter. I commend with any thing of that kind. But she has unac-myself to your honour, and I thank you for this countably taken it into her head to be jealous of me. Sir John. Jealous of you! Belin. fler ladyship saw the little offices of civility I received from you this morning; she misunderstood every thing, it seems, and has told the geatleman, with whom I was engaged in a treaty of marriage, that improper freedoms have passed between us. Sir John. Artifice! artifice! her usual policy, madam, to cover her own libertine ways. Belin. I don't mean to say any thing harsh of the lady. but you know what foundation there is for this, and I hope will do me justice. Sir John. Oh! madam, to the world, to the wide world I'll justify you. I will wait upon the favour. Sir John. Our evidences will mutually speak for each other, and confound their dark designs. Madam, I take my leave. Belin. Sir, your most obedient. Sir John. The genticman shall feel my dignation. in Belin. You cannot treat him too severely. Sir John. I will expose him, I promise you. Madam, your humble servant. [Exit. Belin. Oh! Mr Beverley, could I have imagined this? False! false man! and yet, how shall I forget him? but I will make an effort, though it pierce me to the quick. I will tear him from my heart. This moment I will write to him, and forbid him to see me more. [Exit. SCENE III.-The Park. Enter SIR JOHN. Sir John. If I can procure sufficient evidence, I shall bring the matter to a divorce, and make an example of them all. Would Marmalet were come! this is her time to a moment. If I can worm the secret out of her-Is not that she, yonder?-Not quite daylight enough to distinguish; but I think I perceive a person masked. Hist! hist!-Mrs Marmalet-she comes this way: it is she. Mrs Marmalet, your servant. Enter a Person masked. my You are very good, Mrs MarmaletMask. Bless my heart, I am scared out of senses ! Sir John. What's the matter, pray? what's the matter? Mask. Oh, sir! I tremble like a leaf. I was accosted in a rude manner by some gentleman yonder; I can't stay here, let us go into your house, sir; I beg you will. Sir John. My house? Would not any other house do as well? Mask. Oh! no, sir; not for the world. Sir John. Why, my wife is not at home, and so I think I may venture: not but I had rather it were elsewhere. Mask. Indeed, sir John, I am frightened out of my senses. You will do me a favour, if you will take me into the house. Sir John. Say no more: it shall be so. Rob ert! Rob. Is that sir John? [Opening the door. Sir John. Your lady is not at home, Robert, is she? Bev. That will be explained presently: I'll wait till he comes home. I can't possibly go, without speaking to him. Tat. Indeed, you had better not stay, sir. You don't consider the mischief your being in the house may occasion. Bev. Mischief! how do you mean? Tat. Lord, sir! I would not have you stay for the world: I would not indeed. You can call again in an hour, sir, and you'll certainly find him at home then. Bless my heart, sir!--I fancy that's his voice. Do, dear sir! you'll be the ruin of my lady, if he sees you here, sir, waiting in his house: he'll be persuaded you come after my lady; the world will never beat it out of his head. Bev. But I shall give him to understandTat. He won't understand any thing. Oh lud! oh lud! he's coming up: I'll run and look. [Exit. Bev. What a flurry the woman is in! à foolish jade! I must speak with him now. Tat. [Entering.] It is he, as I am alive, sir! and there is a woman in a mask with him. Bev. A woman in a mask! Zoons, if that should be Belinda! my mind misgives me strangely! [Aside. Tat. Do, dear sir: you look like a good-natured gentleman; let me hide you out of the way, sir. You would not be the destruction of a poor servant. Bev. A mask coming home with him! I must know who that is. I won't leave the house with out knowing. If I could conceal myself-have you any private place, Mrs Tattie? Tat. That is the very thing I mean, sir. Let me conceal you in that closet, till he passes through this room. He never stays long here. It won't take you two minutes. Do, sweet sir, I'll down on my knees to you. Bev. I must know who it is. Come, dispose of me as you will. If this should be Belinda! [Erit. Tat. Heavens bless you, sir, for this goodness! I'll lock the door, to make sure work of it. I was never so frightened in my life. [Exit. Enter SIR JOHN, and a person masked. Sir John. Mrs Marmalet, I am obliged to you for this favour. I wanted a word or two with you. Mask. So Robert informed me, sir. Sir John. Look ye, then if you will gratify me in what I shall ask, you may command any thing. Now you may be uncovered. Mask. La! sir-I hear a noise: I am afraid somebody's coming: I shall be scen. Sir John. Hush! no: there's nobody. If you will indulge me on this occasion, I am yours for ever. Here, here is a purse of money for you. Mask. But if this should come to the knowledge of your lady, I am ruined and undone. Sir John. No, no: I'll take care of you. Mask. Will you, sir? Sir John. I will. But come; let me remove this from your face. Musk. But somebody may come. Sir John. I'll lock the door. There, now, we are safe. Mask. But in a little time you'll make up all quarrels with your lady; and I shall be ruined. Sir John. No, no; never fear; I shall never be reconciled to her: I hate her; I detest her. Lady Rest. Do you so, sir? [Unmasking.] Lady Rest. Oh, sir John! sir John! what evasion have you now, sir? Can you deny your guilt any longer? Sir John. This is unlucky! That villain Robert has betrayed me. I can't explain myself to her now. Try what soothing will do.- My lady Restless, if you will but have patience, this matter shall be explained. Lady Rest. Explained, sir? Sir John. Yes, my dear, explained; andLady Rest. My dear, too!-the assurance of you! Sir John. I say, my dear; for I still regard you; and this was all done to-to-cure you of your jealousy; all done to cure you of your jealousy. Lady Rest. Do you know any thing of the key of that closet, Tattle! Tat. The key, madam? I have it, madam. Tat. That is, I have it not, madam. Don't have it, madam; don't ask for it. [Aside to her. Lady Rest. Don't ask for it! but I will have pre-it.-Give me the key this instant. Lady Rest. A fine way you have taken! Sir John. Yes, yes; and so you will see sently all to convince you how groundless your suspicions are; and then we shall live very happy together. Lady Rest. Ay! Sir John. I have no further suspicions of you. I see my error, and I want you to see your's. Ha, ha!I have no suspicions- -That will put her off her guard. [Aside.] My dear, compose your spirits, and Sir John. How, is she not willing to give it? There is something in this, then. Give the key this moment, you jade; give it to me. Lady Rest. You sha'nt have it, sir. What, you want to hinder me! give the key to me. Tat. Dear heart, I have lost it, madam.-Better not have it, madam. [Aside. Sir John. Give it me this moment, I say. Lady Rest. If you don't let me have it, it is as much as your place is worth. Tat. The devil is in it! there it is, then. Let Ludy Rest. And do you think to deny every thing, even in the face of conviction? Base, base man! I'll go this moment and write to my bro-me make my escape. ther. Sir John. Now, you talk wildly. This is all raving you make yourself very ridiculous. You do, indeed. I had settled all this on purpose, and contrived that it should come to your cars, and then I knew you would do just as you have done; and—then—I—I resolved to do just as I have done; only to hint to you, that listeners seldom hear any good of themselves, and to shew you how wrong it is to be too suspicious, my dear was it not well done ?—ha, ha, ha! Lady Rest. And do you laugh at me too, sir? Make me your sport? I'll go and get pen and ink this moment. Sir John. Oh! do so, madam; do so—ha, ha ! you'll only expose yourself: go and write, madam-ha, ha, ha! Lady Rest. I will, sir. [Going.] This door is locked. This won't succeed, sir. I suppose you have the key? Ay, I'll lay my life you have, and some one or other of your creatures is locked in there. Sir John. There, again! This is of a piece with all your vain surmises. Ha, ha! you are mighty silly; indeed you are. [Exit. Lady Rest. Now, sir, we shall see; now, now. Sir John. Ay, now search, if you will. [Laughing at her. Lady Rest. [Unlocking the door.] You shall be found out, I promise you-Oh! [Screams out. Sir John. What is the matter, now? Lady Rest. Heavens! what have we here? Sir John. Oh! there is somebody there, then! Enter BEVERLEY. Bev. Madam[Bows to her. Sir John. By all that's false, here he is again! Lady Rest. What, in the name of wonder, brings you here, sir? Sir John. Oh, madam, you know his business, and I know his business, and the gentleman knows his business. There he is, madam; there is the gentleman waiting for you; true to his appointment, you see.--Sir, your humble servant. My lady Restless, your humble servant. Now, write to your brother; do. I should be glad to know what you can say now. Now, now; is the case plain now? Lady Rest. I am in amaze! I don't know what to make of this. |