do will satisfy offended, when I refuse your friend; when I accept him, tortured! Cha. Man. And tortured I must be: for know, most wretched as I am, it is not for a friend I plead, but for myself. Let. Well, sir, I'm free to say, 'I still abide by my confession. What you tell me shakes not my esteem for Mr Manlove. Cha. Man. Then I have lost you; for that Manlove is my younger brother, and has won you under a fictitious name: I, that really own it, am discarded. lean upon you, comfort him; I dare be sworn he has need of it-Shame upon you, Mr Stapleton! What, you'll not speak, not you! Here comes one will make you speak, and stir too, to some tune. Here, madam, here's your virtuous husband! here's a picture of modern conjugal fidelity! Enter MRS STAPLETON. Mrs Stap. A picture, truly! for I think you're talking to nothing else. Why don't the girl open the shutters? What do you stand there for? [Sees JACK. Let. How purblind you long-sighted wits some-O, ho! times can be! You tell me you are Mr Manlove; have I revoked my opinion? You say your brother took your name; have I expressed myself in favour of Mr Nightshade? Cha. Man. O, Heavens! I do begin to hope Let. You should not puzzle me with such cross purposes. Will you be Mr Manlove, and believe what I now say of him, or give that name to your brother, and hear me repeat what I lately said of him? Cha. Man. Oh, let me be what you approve! I ask no higher blessing. Let. We are interrupted. See, your formidable rival! Oh, you have made a fine confusion -Come away. [Exeunt. Enter MR STAPLETON and MANLOVE. Mr Stap. What! my old friend conferring with the layman? Break his head, Andrew, if you please; no manslaughter can lie there. [The window is opened. A. Night. How's this! why, I protest I took it for yourself; and I was scandalized to see a sober citizen in such close conference with a damsel of so great temptations. Man. Come, brother, you have had one warning against anger; let this be a memento to guard against suspicion. A. Night. Brother, you know I can't endure advice; I see my error; that's enough. Mrs Stap. Yes, but you don't see all: there's Enter JACK NIGHTSHADE. more behind the scenes; your greatest error, Mr J. Night. Hist! hark'e, brother Charles!-Nightshade, is not yet found out. He won't turn back, and I dare not follow him, for fear I run into old Crusty's jaws. I am fain to go as warily in this house as if I was riding over a warren. Didlikins! here comes the girl at last-Oh, fye upon you, miss! oh fye Enter Lucy hastily. A. Night. Why, what the vengeance have we here? Come out-let's see your face. Son Jack! Furies and flames! My boy, as I'm alive! Man. This is judgment upon judgment ! A. Night. Which of you all have conjured up this plot? Oh, thou unutterably vile and sorry puppy! Hound, that I have bred to tear my heart Lucy. Hush! hush! A truce to your re-out-Jack, Jack! for you to use me thus! You proaches-Hide yourself; your father's at my heels. J. Night. My father! Drown it! what shall I do now? Lucy. Here, get behind this layman; stoop: stand close. I'll put the shutters to; I owe you that good turn, at least, to bring you off. Stand close! Enter ANDREW NIGHTSHADE. A. Night. So, so! What's doing here? Darkness at mid-day! Your servant, Mr Stapleton-I see you notwithstanding; there you are: fine goings-on at your age! Smuggling your chambermaids in corners- -Call you this fair trading? Oh, if your wife saw this! J. Night. [From behind.] For pity's sake, keep him off! He's coming! Lucy. Where are you coming, sir? Pray leave the room; your company disturbs him; don't you see how ill he is? A. Night. Poor gentleman! and so you shut out the light to make him better? Ay, let him whom I've made my boast, the staff of my old age!-I would I had a staff! I'd beat your brains out with it, blockhead, so I would! Man. Hold, hold! no more of that—remember promises. A. Night. And in that jacket too! the sub stance of a farm laid out upon your back: sirrah, whence came that conjuror's coat, that scoundrel's livery! Answer me. J. Night. Father, 'tis none of mine; 'tis brother Charles's. A. Night. There, Mr Manlove! there's your pretty gentleman! a fine account! the corrupter of his brother! Stap. Be more patient, friend Andrew. A. Night. I won't be patient! I've a father's privilege to justify my passion. Hark'e, sir, what brought you up to town? Who seduced you hither? I suppose the fashionable scoundrel, who lent you that fool's coat. J. Night. Lord love you, father! 'twas a frolic of my own; Charles would have had me travelled home again. Man. What, is that like a seducer? J. Night. And so I should afore now, but that I fell into a kind of love-suit here, with the young lady of this house. Mrs Stap. What do you say? a love-suit? Stap. With my ward, Miss Fairfax? impossible! Lucy. Ay, now comes my examination: I had best escape. [Aside. J. Night. Hold, hold; my whole defence turns upon your testimony-Stay where you are. [TO LUCY. A. Night. Ay, let us hear; there's something in this plea: Let us hear more of the love-suit. J. Night. Nay, 'twas not much of a suit neither it was very soon over; miss was coming, Dibble got a licence, and I bought a ring. Stap. Why, you're beside yourself, young man! A. Night. Go on! the boy speaks well, and shan't be brow-beat: hear him out. J. Night. And so, as I was telling you, I should have married her outright, if brother Charles had not thrown a spoke in my wheel. A. Night. See there, see there! What say you for your favourite now? Prove what you say, my lad, and I will do you justice to the extent of my J. Night. Sent for! a pretty joke! why, there she stands. Mr and Mrs Stap. Ha, ha, ha! J. Night. And so am I; for, if it had not been for brother Charles, as sure as you are here alive, we had both been happy before now. A. Night. This, this the lady? J. Night. Ay, father, that's she: I hope you like her? Stap. Lucy! Lucy Dibble! Man. The sister of my clerk! A. Night. Death and the devil! a chambermaid! Mrs Stap. Oh, you insidious hussy! what can you say for yourself? Lucy. I am not here upon my trial, madam; that is past, and Miss Fairfax has signed my pardon. As for this gentleman, if I did put a little trick upon him under my mistress's name, he paid me in my own coin, by passing himself off under his brother's. The parties represented are not present; but, let me stand at Miss Fairfax's side, and place him by Mr Manlove, and I leave the world to decide which is the greatest impostor of the two. J. Night. Oh, you abominable little vixen! Man. Keep your peace, Jack! would you prove your valour on a woman? A. Night. Then, by Jupiter, I'll break every bone in lawyer Dibble's skin, before this day's at an end! Stap. Understand yourself, child; the daughter of a footman is no mate for the son of a gentleman. A. Night. To be sure: well said, Master Stapleton! Lucy. True, sir; but the footman bred his daughter as a gentleman should, and the gentleman gave his son the education of a footman. [Exit Lucy. Man. Brother AndrewA. Night. Pooh! J. Night. Father, that last wipe was at you. A. Night. Hold your tongue, blockhead! get you home into the country, till the soil, and be a beast of burden; 'tis what nature meant you for. Man. Nay, brother, blame not nature, she has done her part: 'tis you that should have tilled the soil. O Charles, you come upon a wish; your father is impatient to embrace you. Enter CHARLES MANLOVE. Cha. Man. Let but my father add his appro bation, and my happiness shall be complete. Man. He can't withhold it. Come, throw prejudice aside; let wrath and jealousy be cast far from you: look upon this youth; he is your son; you are the principal, but do you substitute the justice to confess my system has succeeded; it is possible, you see, to gain a knowledge of this world, and not be tainted with its wickedness. A. Night. Tis mighty well; but for this cub of mine, I'll disinherit him to the devil; I could find in my heart to die to-morrow, for the pleasure of cutting him off with a shilling. J. Night. Lord, father, in that case, a little matter would content me. Man. Come, come, the law has made provision against that: Jack must inherit your estate, die when you will. A. Night. Then, I'll not die at all; I'll live for ever on purpose to plague him; l'il starve the whelp; he shall have nothing to live upon, but rain-water and pig-nuts. Man. Then, Andrew, I will keep him; he shall live with me. A. Night. Say you so, brother? then, I'll forgive him, and keep him to myself; and, since you talk of knowledge of the world, I'll show him what it is: come hither, Jack; I'll go with him as far as there is water to carry us; I'll travel him to the world's end: Zounds! I'll take him out of it, rather than be outgone. J. Night. Take the last stage by yourself, dear father! Farewell, uncle! good-bye, Charles! [Exeunt A. and J. NIGHT. Man. Incorrigible humourist! Come, my son, and come, my worthy friends: where is your amiable ward? I still have hopes this day of rancour and confusion will conclude with joy. Stap. And so it shall, if my persuasion can have weight. Mrs Stap. Persuasion never fails, when inclination aids it. Look, she comes! Cha. Man. And comes like Hope, like spring and sunshine to the longing year, with smiles of soft complacency and love. Enter LETITIA. Let. Ay, now your rival's gone, you think the field your own; but every hour will raise fresh rivals, for every hour will draw forth fresh perfections from a character like your's, and each demand the preference in our admiration and applause, Stap. Well said, my girl! then there's a bargain inade: What need of further words? Mrs Stap. Fy upon you, Mr Stapleton! you distress her; you are too much in haste about these matters. Mr Stap. Why, Dolly, you and I concluded our matter within the week. Mrs Stap. Longer; 'twas longer; don't believe him, Letitia. Let. Excuse me. I can readily believe, that hearts so fitted for each other, might unite at once by mutual attraction. Mun. Dost thou believe it, fair one? then, away with all delay! not even the law, its own parent, shall be privileged in this case; we'll work like shipwrights at an armament, and Dibble, as a punishment for his intrigues, shall labour double tides. If marriage ever shall regain its dignity in this degenerate age, it must be by the union of such hearts as these. [Exeunt omnes. END OF VOLUME SECOND. |