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master, this honour seems to be a marvellous false friend; ay, truly, a very courtier-like servant. Put the case, I was a gentleman (which, thank heaven, no one can say of me ;) well, my honour makes me quarrel with another gentleman of my acquaintance. So, we fight. (Pleasant enough that.) Boh! I kill him, (the more's my luck.) Now, pray, who gets the profit of it? why, my honour. But, put the case that he kills me! by the mass! I go to the worms, and my honour whips over to my enemy. Acres. No, David, in that case-Ods crowns and laurels! your honour follows you to the grave! Dav. Now, that's just the place where I could make a shift to do without it.

Acres. Zounds! David, you are a coward!-It doesn't become my valour to listen to you. What, shall I disgrace my ancestors? Think of that, Daxid-think what it would be to disgrace my ancestors!

Dav. Under favour, the surest way of not disgracing them, is to keep as long as you can out of their company. Lookye, now, master, to go to them in such haste-with an ounce of lead in your brains- I should think it might as well be let alone. Our ancestors are very good kind of folks; but they are the last people I should choose to have a visiting acquaintance with.

Acres. But, David, now, you don't think there is such very, very, very great danger, eh?-Ods life! people often fight without any mischief done. Dav. By the mass, I think 'tis ten to one against you!-Oons! here to meet some lion-headed fellow, I warrant, with his d-n'd double-barrell'd swords, and cut-and-thrust pistols! Lord bless us! it makes me tremble to think on't-those be such desperate bloody-minded weapons! Well, I never could abide them! from a child I never could fancy

them. I suppose there an't been so merciless a beast in the world as your loaded pistol.

Acres. Zounds! I won't be afraid-ods fire and fury! you sha'n't make me afraid.-Here is the challenge, and I have sent for my dear friend, Jack Absolute to carry it for me.

Dav. Ay, i'the name of mischief, let him be the messenger. For my part, I wouldn't lend a hand to it, for the best horse in your stable. By the mass! it don't look like another letter! it is, as

I may say, a designing and malicious-looking letter! and I warrant smells of gunpowder, like a soldier's pouch! Oons! I wouldn't swear it mayn't go off! [of a grasshopper. Acres. Out, you paltroon! you ha'n't the valour Dav. Well, I say no more-'twill be sad news, to be sure at Clod Hall! but I ha' done. How Phillis will howl when she hears of it! ay, poor bitch, she little think what shooting her master's going after!-and I warrant old Crop, who has carried your honour field and road, these ten years, will curse the hour he was born! (Whimpering.)

Acres. It won't do, David-I am determined to fight-so get along, you coward, while I'm in the mind.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Captain Absolute, sir.
Acres. Ó! show him up.

[Exit. Servant. David. Well, heaven send we be all alive this time to-morrow.

Acres. What's that?-Don't provoke me, David! Dav. Good by, master. (Whimpering.) Acres. Get along, you cowardly, dastardly croaking raven. [Exit David.

Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. Capt. A. What's the matter, Bob? Acres. A vile, sheep-hearted blockhead! If I

boot

hadn't the valour of St. George, and the dragon ta Capt. A. But what did you want with me, Bob? Acres. Oh!-there-(Gives him the challenge.) Capt. A. To Ensign Beverley. So-what's going on now? (Aside.) Well, what's this? Acres. A challenge! [will you, Bob? Capt. A. Indeed! Why, you won't fight him, Acres. Egad! but I will, Jack.-Sir Lucius has wrought me to it. He has left me full of rage-and I'll fight this evening, that so much good passion mayn't be wasted.

Capt. A. But what have I to do with this? this fellow, I want you to find him out for me, and Acres. Why, as I think you know something of give him this mortal defiance.

[it.

Capt. A. Well, give it me, and trust me he gets Acres. Thank you, my dear friend, my dear Jack; but it is giving you a great deal of trouble. tion it.-No trouble in the world, I assure you. Capt. A. Not in the least-I beg you won't mexfriend :-you couldn't be my second, could you, Acres. You are very kind. What it is to have a

Jack?

Capt. A. Why, no, Bob-not in this affair-it would not be quite so proper.

Lucius. I shall have your good wishes, however, Acres. Well, then, I must get my friend Sir

Jack?

Capt. A. Whenever he meets you, believe me.
Enter Servant.

Serv. Sir Anthony Absolute is below, inquiring for the Captain.

Capt. A. I'll come instantly. [Exit Servant. Well, my little hero, success attend you. (Going.) you what kind of a man your friend Acres is, do Acres. Stay, stay, Jack.-If Beverley should ask tell him I am a devil of a fellow-will you, Jack?

Capt. A. To be sure I shall. I'll say you are a determined dog, eh, Bob?

Acres. Ay, do, do; and if that frightens him, egad! perhaps he mayn't come. So tell him I generally kill a man a week; will you, Jack?

Capt. A. I will; I will; I'll say you are call'd, in the country, "Fighting Bob."

Acres. Right, right-'tis all to prevent mischief: for I don't want to take his life, if I clear my

honour.

Capt. A. No!-that's very kind of you.

Acres. Why, you don't wish me to kill him, do you, Jack?

Capt. A. No, upon my soul, I do not. But a devil of a fellow, eh? (Going.)

Acres. True, true-But stay stay, Jack-you may add, that you never saw me in such a rage before-a most devouring rage. Capt. A. I will, I will.

Acres. Remember, Jack-a determined dog!
Capt. A. Ay, ay, "Fighting Eob."

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-Mrs. Malaprop's Lodgings. Enter MRS. MALAPROP and LYDIA. Mrs. M. Why, thou perverse one!-tell me what you can object to in him ?-Isn't he a handsome man? tell me that. A genteel man! a pretty figure of a man?

Lyd. She little thinks whom she is praising. (Aside.) So is Beverley, ma'am,

Mrs. M. No caparisons, miss, if you please. Caparisons don't become a young woman. No! Captain Absolute is indeed a fine gentleman.

Lyd. Ay, the Captain Absolute you have seen (Aside.)

Mrs. M. Then he's so well bred! so full of alac

rity and adulation! He has so much to say for I don't you speak out ?-not stand croaking like a himself, in such good language too. His physiogomy frog in a quinsey!

BO grammatical; then his presence so noble! I Capt. A. The-the-excess of my awe, and myprotest, when I saw him, I thought of what Ham-my-modesty, quite choak me! let says in the play: "Hesperian curls; the front of Job himself! an eye, like March, to threaten at command! a station, like Harry Mercury, new-" Something about kissing on a hill-however, the similitude struck me directly.

Lyd. How enraged she'll be presently, when she discovers her mistake: (Aside.)

Enter Servant..

Serv. Sir Anthony and Captain Absolute are below, ma'am.

Mrs. M. Shew them up here. [Exit Servant.] Now, Lydia, I insist on your behaving as becomes a young woman. Shew your good breeding, at least, though you have forgot your duty.

Lyd. Madam, I have told you my resolution, I shall not only give him no encouragement, but I won't even speak to, or look at him. (Flings herself into a chair, with her face from the door.) Enter SIR ANTHONY and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. Sir An. Here we are, Mrs. Malaprop; come to mitigate the frowns of unrelenting beauty;-and difficulty enough I had to bring this fellow. I don't know what's the matter; but if I had not held him by force, he'd have given me the slip.

Mrs. M. You have infinite trouble, Sir Anthony, in the affair. I am ashamed for the cause! Lydia, Lydia, rise, I beseech you!-pay your respects! (Aside to her.)

Sir An. I hope, madam, that Miss Languish has reflected on the worth of this gentleman, and the regard due to her aunt's choice, and my alliance.Now, Jack, speak to her. (Aside to him.)

Capt. A. What the devil shall I do? (Aside.) You see, sir, she won't even look at me whilst you are here. I knew she wouldn't;-I told you so-Let me entreat you, sir, to leave us together! (Capt. A. seems to expostulate with his father.)

Sir An. I say, sir, I won't stir a foot yet.
Mrs. M. I am sorry to say, Sir Anthony, that my
affluence over my niece is very small. Turn round,
Lydia; I blush for you! (Aside to her.)

Sir An. May I not flatter myself, that Miss
Languish will assign what cause of dislike she can
have to my son? Why don't you begin, Jack?-
Speak, you puppy,-speak! (Aside to him.)

Mrs. M. It is impossible, Sir Anthony, she can have any. She will not say she has. Answer, hussey? why don't you answer? (Aside to her.)

Sir Anth. Then, madam, I trust that a childish and hasty predilection will be no bar to Jack's happiness.-Zounds! sirrah! why don't you speak? (Aside to him.)

Capt. A. Hem! hem! Madam-hem! (Capt. Absolute attempts to speak, then returns to Sir Anth.) 'Faith! sir, I am so confounded!-and so--so confused!-I told you I should be so, sir, I knew it. -The-tremor of my passion entirely takes away my presence of mind.

Sir Anth. But it don't take away your voice, fool, does it?-Go up and speak to her directly! (Capt. Absolute makes signs to Mrs. Malaprop to leave them together.) What the devil are you at? unlock your jaws, sirrah, or-(Aside to him.)

Capt. A. (Draws near Lydia.) Now heaven send she may be too sullen to look round!-I must disguise my voice. (Aside.-Speaks in a low, hoarse tone.) Will not Miss Languish lend an ear to the mild accents of true love?-Will not

Sir Anth. What the devil ails the fellow ?-Why

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Sir Anth. Ah! your modesty again!-I'll tell you what, Jack: if you don't speak out directly and glibly too, I shall be in such a rage!-Mrs. Malaprop, I wish the lady would favour us with something more than a side-front. (Mrs. Malaprop seems to chide Lydia.)

(Goes up to

Capt. A. So! all will out, I see! Lydia, speaks softly.) Be not surprised, my Lydia, suppress all surprise at present.

Lyd. (Aside.) Heavens! 'tis Beverley's voice! (Looks round by degrees, then starts up.) Is this possible? My Beverley! How can this be? My Beverley?

Capt. A. Ah! 'tis all over! (Aside.)

Sir Anth. Beverley! the devil, Beverley! What can the girl mean? This is my son, Jack Absolute. head runs so on that fellow, that you have him alMrs. M. For shame, hussey! for shame! your ways in your eyes! Beg Captain Absolute's pardon, directly. [Beverley!

Lyd. I see no Captain Absolute, but my loved Sir Anth. Zounds! the girl's mad! her brain's turned by reading!

What

Mrs. M. O' my conscience, I believe so! do you mean by Beverley, hussey? You saw Captain Absolute before to-day; there he is, your husband that shall be. ¡my Beverley.

Lyd. With all my soul, ma'am, when I refuse Sir Anth. Oh! she's as mad as Bedlam! or has this fellow been playing us a rogue's trick? Come here, sirrah, who the devil are you?

Capt A. 'Faith, sir, I am not quite clear myself; but I'll endeavour to recollect.

Sir Anth. Are you my son or not? answer for your mother, you dog, if you won't for me.

Capt. A. Ye powers of impudence, befriend me! (Aside.) Sir Anthony, most assuredly I am your wife's son; and that I sincerely believe myself to be yours also, I hope my duty has always shewn. Mrs. Malaprop, I am your most respectful admirer, and shall be proud to add, affectionate nephew. need not tell my Lydia that she sees her faithful Beverley, who, knowing the singular generosity of her temper, assumed that name, and a station, which has proved a test of the most disinterested love, which he now hopes to enjoy in a more elevated character.

(Sullenly.)

Lyd. So! there will be no elopement after all! Sir Anth. Upon my soul! Jack, thou art a very impudent fellow! To do you justice, I think I never saw a piece of more consummate assurance! Capt. A. Oh! you flatter me, sir, you compliment -'tis my modesty you know, sir, my modesty, that has stood in my way.

Sir Anth. Well, I am glad you are not the dull, insensible varlet you pretended to be, however. I'm glad you have made a fool of your father, you dog, I am. So, this was your penitence, your duty, and obedience! I thought it was d-n'd sudden. You never heard their names before, not you! What, the Languishes of Worcestershire, eh? if you could please me in the affair, 'twas all you desired! Ah, you dissembling villain! What! (Pointing to Lydia.) She squints, don't she? a little redhaired girl, eh? Why, you hypocritical young rascal, I wonder you a'n't ashamed to hold up your head.!

Capt. A. 'Tis with difficulty, sir; I am confused, very much confused, as you must perceive. Mrs. M. O lud! Sir Anthony! a new light breaks

in upon me! eh! how! what! Captain, did you write the letter, then? What? am I to thank you for the elegant compilation of an "old weatherbeaten she-dragon," eh? O mercy! was it you that reflected on my parts of speech?

Capt. A. Dear sir, my modesty will be overpowered at last, if you don't assist me. I shall certainly not be able to stand it.

sealed a vow, as yet scarce dry in Cupid's calen-
dar; and there the half-resentful blush, that would
have checked the ardour of my thanks. Well, all
that's past; all over indeed! There, madam, in
beauty, that copy is not equal to you, but in my
mind, its merit over the original, in being still the
same, is such, that-I'll put it in my pocket.
Lyd. (Softening.) "Tis your own doing, sir; I,-I

Ser Anth. Come, come, Mrs. Malaprop, we must-I suppose you are perfectly satisfied.
forget and forgive; ods life! matters have taken
so clever a turn all of a sudden, that I could find
in my heart to be so good-humoured! and so gal-
lant! eh! Mrs. Malaprop! Come we must leave
them together, Mrs. Malaprop! they long to fly
into each other's arms, I warrant! Jack, isn't the
cheek as I said, eh? and the eye, you rogue! and
the lip, eh! Come, Mrs. Malaprop, we'll not
turb their tenderness, their's is the time of life for
happiness! "Youth's the season made for joy." (Sings.)
Eh! Od's life! I'm in such spirits, I don't know
what I could not do. Permit me, ma'am, (Gives his
hand to Mrs. Malaprop. Sings.) "Tol de roll:"gad I
should like to have a little fooling myself, "Tol de
rol! de roll!"

Capt. A. Oh! most certainly; sure now, this is much better than being in love! ha! ha! ha! there's some spirit in this. What signifles breaking some scores of solemn promises? All that's of no consequence, you know. To be sure, people will say, that miss didn't know her own mind; but never mind that: or, perhaps, they may be illdis-natured enough to hint, that the gentleman grew tired of the lady, and forsook her; but don't let that fret you.

[Exit, singing, and handing Mrs. Malaprop off. Lydia sits sullenly in her chair. Capt. A. So much thought bodes me no good. (Aside.) So grave, Lydia!

Lyd. Sir!

Capt. A. So! egad! I thought as much: that d-d monosyllable has frozen me! (Aside.) What, Lydia, now that we are as happy in our friends' consent as in our mutual vows

Lyd. Friends' consent, indeed! (Peevishly.) Capt. A. Come, come, we must lay aside some of our romance; a little wealth and comfort may be endured after all. And for your fortune, the lawyers shall make such settlements as

Lyd. Lawyers! I hate lawyers.

Capt. A. Nay, then we will not wait for their lingering forms, but instantly procure the license, Lyd. The license! I hate license! [andCapt. A. Oh, my love! be not so unkind! thus let me entreat-(Kneeling.)

Lyd. Psha! what signifies kneeling, when you know I must have you?

Capt. A. (Rising.) Nay, madam, there shall be no constraint upon your inclinations, I promise you. If I have lost your heart, I resign the rest, 'Gad, I must try what a little spirit will do. (Aside.)

Lyd. (Rising.) Then, sir, let me tell you, the interest you had there was acquired by a mean, unmanly imposition, and deserves the punishment of fraud. What, you have been treating me like a child! humouring my romance; and laughing, I suppose, at your success!

Capt. A. You wrong me, Lydia, you wrong me; only hear

Lyd. So, while I fondly imagined we were deceiving my relations, and flattered myself that I should outwit and incense them all; behold, my hopes are to be crushed at once, by my aunt's consent and approbation, and I am myself the only dupe at last! (Walking about in heat.) But here, sir, here is the picture; Beverley's picture! (Taking a miniature from her bosom.) which I have worn, night and day, in spite of threats and entreaties! There sir (flings it to him), and be assured, I throw the original from my heart as easily.

Capt. A. Nay, nay, ma'am, we will not differ as to that; here (taking out a picture), here is Miss Lydia Languish. What a difference! ay, there is the heavenly assenting smile, that first gave soul and spirit to my hopes; those are the lips which

Lyd. There's no bearing his insolence!
Enter MRS. MALAPROP and SIR ANTHONY.
Mrs. M. (Entering.) Come, we must interrupt
your billing and cooing awhile.

Lyd. This is worse than your treachery and deceit, you base ingrate. (Sobbing.)

Sir Anth. What the devil's the matter now? Zounds! Mrs. Malaprop, this is the oddest billing and cooing I ever heard. But what the deuce is the meaning of it? I'm quite astonished. Capt. A. Ask the lady. Mrs. M. Oh, mercy! I'm quite analys'd, for my part. Why, Lydia, what is the reason of this? Lyd. Ask the gentleman, ma'am.

Sir Anth. Zounds! I shall be in a frenzy. Why, Jack, you are not come out to be any one else, are you?

Mrs. M. Ay, sir, there's no more trick, is there? you are not like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once, are you?

Capt. A. You'll not let me speak; I say the lady can account for this much better than I can.

Lyd. Ma'am, you once commanded me never to think of Beverley again: there is the man; I shall obey you: for from this moment I renounce him for ever. (Exit.

Mrs. M. O mercy and miracles! what a turn here is. Why, sure, Captain, you haven't behaved disrespectfully to my niece.

Sir Anth. Ha, ha, ha!-ha, ha, ha! now I see it; ha, ha, ha! now I see it: you have been too lively, Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word(Jack.

Sir Anth. Come, no lying, Jack! I'm sure 'twas so. Come, no excuses, Jack; why your father, you rogue, was so before you: the blood of the Absolutes was always impatient.

Capt. A. By all that's good, sir—

Sir Anth. Zounds! say no more, I tell you Mrs. Malaprop shall make your peace. You must make his peace, Mrs. Malaprop you must tell her, 'tis Jack's way; tell her, 'tis all our ways-it runs in the blood of our family! Come away, Jack, ha, ha, ha! Mrs. Malaprop-a young villain! (Pushes him out.) Mrs. M. Oh, Sir Anthony! O, fle, Captain!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The North Parade. Enter SIR LUCIUS O'TRIGGER. Sir L. I wonder where this Captain Absolute hides himself. Upon my conscience, these officers are always in one's way in love affairs: I remember I might have married Lady Dorothy Carmine, if it had not been for a little rogue of a major, who ran away with her before she could get a sight of me! And I wonder too what it is the ladies can see in

them to be so fond of them; unless it be a touch of Oh, Faulkland, all the demons of spite and disapthe old serpent in them, that makes the little crea-pointment have conspired against me! I'm so tures be caught like vipers, with a bit of red cloth. Ah, isn't this the captain coming? 'faith, it is! There is a probability of succeeding about that fellow, that is mighty provoking! Who the devil is he talking to? (Steps aside.)

Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.

Capt. A. To what fine purpose have I been plotting a noble reward for all my schemes, upon my soul! a little gipsy! I did not think her romance could have made her so d-n'd absurd either. 'Sdeath, I never was in a worse humour in my life! I could cut my own throat, or any other person's, with the greatest pleasure in the world.

Sir L. O. Faith! I'm in the luck of it. I never could have found him in a sweeter temper for my purpose: to be sure I'm just come in the nick. Now to enter into conversation with him, and so quarrel genteelly. (Aside. Goes up to Captain Ebsolute.) With regard to that matter, Captain, I must beg leave to differ in opinion with you.

Capt. A. Upon my word, then, you must be a very subtle disputant: because, sir, I happened just then to be giving no opinion at all.

Sir L. That's no reason; for give me leave to tell you, a man may think an untruth as well as speak

one.

Capt. A. Very true, sir; but if a man never utters his thoughts, I should think they might stand a chance of escaping controversy.

Sir L. Then, sir, you differ in opinion with me, which amounts to the same thing.

Capt. A. Harkye, Sir Lucius, if I had not before known you to be a gentleman, upon my soul, I should not have discovered it at this interview; for, what you can drive at, unless you mean to quarrel with me, I cannot conceivé!

Sir L. I humbly thank you, sir, for the quickness of your apprehension; (bowing,) you have named the very thing I would be at.

Capt. A. Very well, sir, I shall certainly not baulk your inclination; but I should be glad if you would please to explain your motives.

Sir L. Pray, sir, be easy-the quarrel is a very pretty quarrel, as it stands - we should only spoil it by trying to explain it. However, your memory is very short-or you could not have forgot an affront you passed on me within this week. So, no more, but name your time and place.

Capt. A. Well, sir, since you are bent on it, the sooner the better: let it be this evening-here by the Spring Gardens. We shall scarcely be interrupted.

Sir L. 'Faith! that same interruption, in affairs of this nature, shews very great ill-breeding. I don't know what's the reason, but in England, if a thing of this kind gets wind, people make such a bother, that a gentleman can never fight in peace and quietness. However, if it's the same to you, Captain, I should take it as a particular kindness, if you'd let us meet in King's Mead-fields, as a little business will call me there about six o'clock, and I may despatch both matters as once.

Capt. A. "Tis the same to me exactly. A little after six, then, we will discuss the matter more seriously.

Sir L. If you please, sir; there will be very pretty small-sword light, though it won't do for a long shot. So, that matter's settled, and my mind's at [Exit.

vexed, that if I had not the prospect of a resource, in being knocked o' the head by-and-by, I should scarce have spirits to tell you the cause.

Faulk. What can you mean? Has Lydia changed her mind? I should have thought her duty and inclination would now have pointed to the same object.

Capt. A. Ay, just as the eyes do of a person who squints: when her love-eye was fixed on met'other, her eye of duty, was finely obliqued: but when duty bid her point that the same way-off t'other turned on a swivel, and secured its retreat with a frown.

Fau'k. But what's the resource you

Capt. A. Oh, to wind up the whole, Sir Lucius O'Trigger-you know him by sight-for some affront, which I am sure I never intended, has obliged me to meet him this evening at six o'clock, 'tis on that account I wish to see you-you must go with me.

Faulk. Nay, there must be some mistake, sure. Sir Lucius shall explain himself, and I dare say matters may be accommodated: but this evening, did you say? I wish it had been any other time.

Capt. A. Why? there will be light enough: (there will, as sir Lucius says) "be very pretty smallsword light, though it will not do for a long shot." Confound his long-shots!

Faulk. But I am myself, a good deal ruffled, by a difference I have had with Julia. My vile tormenting temper has made me treat her so cruelly, that I shall not be myself till we are reconciled. Capt. A. By heavens, Faulkland! you don't deserve her.

Enter Servant, who gives Faulkland a letter. Faulk. O, Jack! this is from Julia; I dread to open it.

Capt. A. Here-let me see-(Takes the letter and opens it.) Ay, a final sentence, indeed! 'tis all over with you, 'faith!

Faulk. Nay, Jack, don't keep me in suspense.

Capt. A. Hear, then. (Reads.) "As I am convinced that my dear Faulkland's own reflections have already upbraided him for his last unkindness to me, I will not add a word on the subject. I wish to speak with you as soon as possible. Yours, ever and truly, JULIA." There's stubbornness and resentment for you! (Gives him the letter.) Why, man, you don't seem one whit the happier at this!

Faulk. Oh! yes, I am; but-but

Capt. A. Confound your buts! You never hear anything that would make another man bless himself; but you immediately d-n it with a but.

Faulk. Now, Jack, as you are my friend, own honestly; don't you think there is something forward, something indelicate, in this haste to forgive? Women should never sue for reconciliation; that should always come from us: they should retain their coldness till wooed to kindness; and their pardon, like their love, should "Not unsought be

won.

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Capt. A. I have not patience to listen to you; thou'rt incorrigible! so say no more on the subject. I must go to settle a few matters; let me see you before six; remember, at my lodgings. A poor, industrious devil, like me, who have toiled, and drudged, and plotted to gain my ends, and am, at last, disappointed by other people's folly, may, in Enter FAULKLAND, meeting CAPTAIN ABSO-pity, be allowed to swear and grumble a little; but a captious sceptic in love; a slave to fretfulness and Capt. A. Well met. I was going to look for you whim, who has no difficulties but of his own creat

eas?.

LUTE.

ing, is a subject more fit for ridicule than compas-
sion!
[Exit.
Faulk. I feel his reproaches; yet I would not
change this too exquisite nicety for the gross con
tent with which he tramples on the thorns of love.
His engaging me in this duel has started an idea in
my head, which I will instantly pursue; I'll use it
as the touchstone of Julia's sincerity and disin-
terestedness; if her love prove pure, and sterling
ore, my name will rest on it with honour! and,
once I've stamped it there, I'll lay aside my doubts
for ever.
[Exit.
ACT V.

SCENE I.-Julia's Dressing room.
Enter JULIA.

Jul. How this message has alarmed me! what dreadful accident can he mean? why such charge to be alone? O Faulkland! how many unhappy moments, how many tears, have you cost me! Enter FAULKLAND. What means this? why this caution, Faulkland?" Faulk. Alas, Julia! I am come to take a long farewell!

Jul. Heav'ns! what do you mean? Faulk. You see before you a wretch, whose life is forfeited. Nay, start not; the infirmity of my temper has drawn all this misery on me. I left you fretful and passionate; an untoward accident drew me into a quarrel; the event is, that I must fly this kingdom instantly. Oh! Julia, had I been so fortunate as to have called you mine entirely, before this mischance had fallen on me, I should not so deep'y dread my banishment.

Jul. My soul is oppressed with sorrow at the nature of your misfortune; had these adverse circumstances arisen from a less fatal cause, I should have felt strong comfort in the thought, that I could now chase from your bosom every doubt of the warm sincerity of my love. My heart has long nown no other guardian; I now entrust my person to your honour; we will fly together; when safe from pursuit, my father's will may be fulfilled, and I receive a legal claim to be the partner of your sorrows, and tenderest comforter.

Faulk. O Julia! I am bankrupt in gratitude! Would you not wish some hours to weigh the advantages you forego, and what little compensation poor Faulkland can make you, beside his solitary love?

Jul. I ask not a moment, No, Faulkland, I have loved you for yourself: and if I now, more than ever, prize the solemn engagement which so long has pledged us to each other, it is because it leaves no room for hard aspersions on my fame, and puts the seal of duty to an act of love. But let us not linger; perhaps this delay--

Faulk. Twill be better I should not venture out again till dark: yet I am grieved to think what numberless distresses will press heavy on your gentle disposition.

Jul. Perhaps your fortune may be forfeited by this unhappy act? I know not whether 'tis so, but sure that alone can never make us unhappy. The little I have will be sufficient to support us, and exile never should be splendid.

Faulk. Ay, but in such an abject state of life, my wounded pride, perhaps may increase the natural fretfulness of my temper, till I become a rude, morose companion, beyond your patience to endure.

Jul. If your thoughts should assume so unhappy a bent, you will the more want some mild and affectionate spirit to watch over and console you; one who, by bearing your infirmities with gentle

ness and resignation, may teach you so to bear the evils of your fortune.

Faulk. Julia, I have proved you to the quick; and with this useless device, I throw away all my doubts. How shall I plead to be forgiven this last unworthy effect of my restless, unsatisfied disposition? [lated?

Jul. Has no such disaster happened as you reFaulk. I am ashamed to own that it was all pretended. Let me to-morrrow, in the face of heaven, receive my future guide and monitress, and expiate my past folly. by tears of tender adoration.

Jul. Hold, Faulkland! that you are free from a crime, which I before feared to name, heaven knows how sincerely I rejoice! These are tearsof thankfulness for that. But, that your cruel doubts should have urged you to an imposition that has wrung my heart, gives me now a pang more keen than I can express.

Faulk. By heavens! Julia-→→

Jul. Yet hear me. My father loved you, Faulkland! and you preserved the life that tender parent gave me; in his presence I pledged my hand; joyfully pledged, where before I had given my heart. When, soon after, I lost that parent, it seemed to me, that Providence had, in Faulkland, shewn me whither to transfer, without a pause, my grateful duty as well as my affection: hence I have been content to bear from you, what pride and delicacy would have forbid me from another. I will not upbraid you by repeating how you have trifled with my sincerity.

Faulk. I confess it all; yet, hear

Jul. After such a year of trial, I might have flattered myself that I should not have been insulted with a new probation of my sincerity, as cruel, as unnecessary. I now see that it is not in your nature to be content or confident in love. With this conviction I never will be yours.

Faulk. Nay, but, Julia, by my soul and honour! If, after this

Jul. But one word more. As my faith has once been given to you, I never will barter it with another. I shall pray for your happiness with the truest sincerity; and the dearest blessing 1 can ask of heaven to send you, will be to charm you from that unhappy temper, which alone has prevented the performance of our solemn engagement. All I request of you is, that you will yourself reflect upon this infirmity; and, when you number up the many true delights it has deprived you of, let it not be your least regret, that it lost you the love of one who would have followed you in beggary through the world. [Exit.

Faulk. She's gone! for ever! There was an awful resolution in her manner, that riveted me to my place. O fool! dolt! barbarian! Cursed as I am, with more imperfections than my fellow wretches, kind fortune sent a heaven-gifted cherub to my aid; and, like a ruffian, I have driven her from my side! I must now haste to my appointment. Well, my mind is tuned for such a scene: I shall wish only to become a principal in it, and reverse the tale my cursed folly put me upon forging here. O love! tormentor! fiend! whose influence, like the moon's acting on men of dull souls makes idiots of them, but meeting subtler spirits, betrays their course, and urges sensibility to mad[Exit.

ness!

Enter Maid and LYDIA.. Maid. My mistress, ma'am, I know, was here, just now; perhaps she is only in the next room. [Erit. Lyd. Heigho! Though he has used me so, this fellow runs strangely in my head. I believe one

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