Cha. The man who wrongs that lady is a villain !--Draw!

Bel. Never fear me, young gentleman! Brand me for a coward, if I baulk you!

Cha. Yet hold! Let me not be too hasty: your name, I think, is Belcour?

Bel. Well, sir?

Cha. How is it, Mr Belcour, you have done this mean, unmanly wrong; beneath the mask of generosity, to give this fatal stab to our domestic peace? You might have had my thanks, my blessing; take my defiance now. 'Tis Dudley speaks to you; the brother, the protector of that injured lady.

Bel. The brother? Give yourself a truer title.
Cha. What is it you mean?

Bel. Come, come, I know both her and you. I found you, sir, (but how, or why, I know not) in the good graces of Miss Rusport-(yes, colour at the name!) I gave you no disturbance there, never broke in upon you in that rich and plenteous quarter; but, when I could have blasted all your projects with a word, spared you, in foolish pity spared you, nor rouzed her from the fond credulity in which your artifice had lulled her.

Cha. No, sir, nor boasted to her of the splendid present you had made my poor Louisa-the diamonds, Mr Belcour! How was that? What can you plead to that arraignment?

Bel. You question me too late; the name of Belcour, and of villain, never met before; had you inquired of me before you uttered that rash word, you might have saved yourself or me a mortal error: now, sir, I neither give nor take an explanation; so, come on! [They fight.

Enter Lovisa, and afterwards O'FLAHERTY. Lou. Hold, hold! for Heaven's sake, hold! Charles! Mr Belcour! Help! Sir, sir; make haste, they'll murder one another!

O Fla. Hell and confusion! What's all this uproar for? Can't you leave off cutting one another's throats, and mind what the poor girl says to you? You've done a notable thing, have not you both, to put her into such a flurry? I think, o' my conscience, she's the most frighted of the three.

Cha. Dear Louisa, recollect yourself; why did you interfere? 'Tis in your cause.

Bel. Now could I kill him for caressing her! O'Fla. O sir, your most obedient! You are the gentleman I had the honour of meeting here before; you was then running off at full speed like a Calmuck; now you are tilting and driving like a Bedlamite with this lad here, that seems as mad as yourself: 'tis pity but your country had a little more employment for you both.

Bel. Mr Dudley, when you've recovered the lady, you know where I am to be found.

[Erit BEL. O'Fla. Well, then, can't you stay where you are, and that will save the trouble of looking afVOL. II.

ter you? Yon volatile fellow thinks to give a man the meeting by getting out of his way by my soul, 'tis a roundabout method that of his ! But, I think he called you Dudley. Hark'e, young man, are you the son of my friend the old captain?

Cha. I am. Help me to convey this lady to her chamber, and I shall be more at leisure to answer your questions.

O'Fla. Ay, will I come along, pretty one. If you've had wrong done you, young man, you need look no further for a second; Dennis O'Flaherty's your man for that: but never draw your sword before a woman, Dudley; damn it, never, while you live, draw your sword before a woman. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.-LADY RUSPORT's house.

Enter LADY RUSPORT and Servant. Ser. An elderly gentleman, who says his name is Varland, desires leave to wait on your ladyship.

Lady Rus. Shew him in; the very man I wish to see! Varland-he was sir Oliver's solicitor, and privy to all his affairs. He brings some good tidings; some fresh mortgage, or another bond come to light; they start up every day.

Enter VARLAND.

Mr Varland, I'm glad to see you; you're heartily welcome, honest Mr Varland; you and I have not met since our late irreparable loss: how have you passed your time this age?

Var. Truly, my lady, ill enough: I thought I must have followed good sir Oliver.

Lady Rus. Alack-a-day, poor man! Well, Mr Varland, you find me here, overwhelmed with trouble and fatigue; torn to pieces with a multiplicity of affairs; a great fortune poured upon me, unsought for and unexpected: 'twas my good father's will and pleasure it should be so, and I must submit.

Var. Your ladyship inherits under a will made in the year forty-five, immediately after captain. Dudley's marriage with your sister.

Lady Rus. I do so, Mr Varland; I do so. Var. I well remember it; I engrossed every syllable; but I am surprised to find your ladyship set so little store by this vast accession.

Lady Rus. Why, you know, Mr Varland, I am a moderate woman; I had enough before; a small matter satisfies me; and sir Stephen Rusport (Heaven be his portion!) took care I should not want that.

Var. Very true; very true, he did so; and I am overjoyed at finding your ladyship in this disposition; for, truth to say, I was not without apprehension the news I have to communicate would have been of some prejudice to your ladyship's tranquillity.

Lady Rus. News, sir! What news have you

for me?

6 B

Var: Nay, nothing to alarm you: a trifle, in your present way of thinking: I have a will of sir Oliver's you have never seen.

Lady Rus. A will! Impossible! How came you by it, pray?

:

Var. I drew it up, at his command, in his last illness it will save you a world of trouble; it gives his whole estate from you to his grandson, Charles Dudley.

Lady Rus. To Dudley! His estate to Charles Dudley! I can't support it! I shall faint! You've killed me, you vile man! I never shall survive it!

Var. Look'e there, now! I protest, I thought you would have rejoiced at being clear of the incumbrance.

Lady Rus. 'Tis false; 'tis all a forgery, concerted between you and Dudley; why, else, did I never hear of it before?

Var. Have patience, my lady, and I'll tell you. -By sir Oliver's direction, I was to deliver this will into no hands but his grandson, Dudley's: the young gentleman happened to be then in Scotland; I was dispatched thither in search of him the hurry and fatigue of my journey brought on a fever by the way, which confined me in extreme danger for several days: upon my recovery, I pursued my journey, found young Dudley had left Scotland in the interim, and am now directed hither; where, as soon as I can find him, doubtless, I shall discharge my conscience, and fulfil my commission.

Lady Rus. Dudley, then, as yet, knows nothing of this will?

Var. Nothing; that secret rests with me. Lady Rus. A thought occurs! by this fellow's talking of his conscience, I should guess it was upon sale.-[Aside.]-Come, Mr Varland, if 'tis as you say, I must submit. I was somewhat flurried at first, and forgot myself; I ask your pardon: this is no place to talk of business; step with me into my room; we will there compare the will, and resolve accordingly- -Oh! would your fever had you, and I had your paper!

SCENE VI.

[Exeunt

Enter CHARCES and CHARLOTTE. Char. Well, Charles, will you commit yourself to me for a few minutes?

Cha. Most readily; and let me, before one goes by, tender you the only payment I can ever make for your abundant generosity.

Char. Hold, hold! so vile a thing as money must not come between us. What shall I say? O Charles! O Dudley! What difficulties have you thrown upon me! Familiarly as we have lived, I shrink now at what I'm doing; and, anxiously as I have sought this opportunity, my fears almost persuade me to abandon it.

Cha. You alarm me.

Char. Your looks and actions have been so distant, and, at this moment, are so deterring, that, was it not for the hope that delicacy, and not disgust, inspires this conduct in you, I should sink with shame and apprehension: but time presses, and I must speak-and plainly too— Was you now in possession of your grandfather's estate, as justly you ought to be; and was you inclined to seek a companion for life, should you, or should you not, in that case, honour your unworthy Charlotte with your choice?

Cha. My unworthy Charlotte! So judge me Heaven, there is not a circumstance on earth so valuable as your happiness, so dear to me as your person; but, to bring poverty, disgrace, reproach from friends, ridicule from all the world,

HERTY.

Char. So, so! My lady and her lawyer have retired to close confabulation: now, major, if you are the generous man I take you for, grant me one favour.

O'Fla. Faith will I, and not think much of my gcuerosity neither; for, though it may not be in iny power to do the favour you ask, look you, it can never be in my heart to refuse it.

Cha. Could this man's tongue do justice to his thoughts, how eloquent would he be ! [Aside. Char. Plant yourself, then, in that room: keep guard, for a few moments, upon the enemy's motions, in the chamber beyond; and, if they

Char. Nay, now you rate too highly the poor advantages fortune alone has given me over you; how otherwise could we bring our merits to any balance? Come, my dear Charles, I have enough; make that enough still more, by sharing it with me: sole heiress of my father's fortune, a short time will put it in my disposal; in the mean while, you will be sent to join your regiment: let us prevent a separation, by setting out this very night for that happy country, where marriage still is free: carry me this moment to Belcour's lodgings.

Cha. Belcour's?- -The name is ominous! there's murder in it: bloody inexorable honour! [Aside. Char. D'ye pause? Put me into his hands, while you provide the means for our escape: he is the most generous, the most honourable of

men.

Cha. Honourable! most honourable! Char. Can you doubt it? Do you demur? Have you forgot your letter? Why, Belcour 'twas that prompted me to this proposal, that promised to supply the means, that nobly offered his unasked assistance

Enter O'FLAHERTY, hastily.

O'Fla. Run, run! for holy St Antony's sake, to horse and away! The conference is broke up, and the old lady advances upon a full Piedmontese trot, within pistol-shot of your eucamp

ment.

Char. Here, here! down the back-stairs! O Charles, remember me!

Cha. Farewell! Now, now I feel myself a coward. [Exit.

Char. What does he mean?

O'Fla. Ask no questions, but be gone: she has cooled the lad's courage, and wonders he feels like a coward. There's a damned deal of mischief brewing between this hyena and her lawyer: egad, I'll step behind this screen and listen: a good soldier must sometimes fight in ambush, as well as open field. [Retires.

Enter LADY RUSPORT and VARLAND. Lady Rus. Sure I heard somebody. Hark! No; only the servants going down the back-stairs. Well, Mr Varland, I think then we are agreed: you'll take my money; and your conscience no longer stands in your way.

Var. Your father was my benefactor; his will ought to be sacred; but, if I commit it to the flames, how will he be the wiser? Dudley, 'tis true, has done me no harm; but five thousand pounds will do me much good: so, in short, madam, I take your offer; I will confer with my clerk, who witnessed the will; and to-morrow morning put it into your hands, upon condition you put five thousand good pounds into mine. Lady Rus. "Tis a bargain: I'll be ready for you farewell. [Erit.

Var. Let me consider-Five thousand pounds, prompt payment, for destroying this scrap of pa

:

never reproach me with it and 'tis robbing young Dudley of his lawful patrimony; that's a hard case: but he's alive, and knows nothing of the matter.

O'Fla. These lawyers are so used to bring off the rogueries of others, that they are never without an excuse for their own. [Aside.

Var. Were I assured now, that Dudley would give me half the money for producing this will, that lady Rusport does for concealing it, I would deal with him, and be an honest man at half price. I wish every gentleman of my profession could lay his hand on his heart, and say the same thing.

O'Fla. A bargain, old gentleman! Nay, never start nor stare! you wasn't afraid of your own conscience, never be afraid of me.

Var. Of you, sir! who are you, pray?

O'Fla. I'll tell you who I am: you seem to wish to be honest, but want the heart to set about it. Now, I am the very man in the world to make you so; for, if you do not give me up that paper this very instant, by the soul of me, fellow, I will not leave one whole bone in your skin that shan't be broken.

Var. What right have you, pray, to take this paper from me?

O'Fla. What right have you, pray, to keep it from young Dudley? I don't know what it contains, but I am apt to think it will be safer in my hands than in yours; therefore, give it me without more words, and save yourself a beating: do now; you had best.

Var. Well, sir, I may as well make a grace of necessity. There! I have acquitted my conscience, at the expence of five thousand pounds.

O'Fla. Five thousand pounds! Mercy upon me!-When there are such temptations in the law, can we wonder if some of the corps are a disgrace to it?

Var. Well, you have got the paper; if you are an honest man, give it to Charles Dudley.

O'Fla. An honest man! look at me, friend. I am a soldier; this is not the livery of a knave: I am an Irishman, honey; mine is not the country of dishonour. Now, sirrah, be gone; if you enter these doors, or give lady Rusport the least item of what has passed, I will cut off both your ears, and rob the pillory of its due. Var. I wish I was once fairly out of his sight!

[Exeunt.

Enter STOCKWell.

-But see, he's

Bel. O my curst tropical constitution! Would to Heaven I had been dropt upon the snows of Lapland, and never felt the blessed influence of the sun, so I had never burnt with these inflammatory passions!

Stock. So, so! you seem disordered, Mr Belcour?

Bel. Disordered, sir! Why did I ever quit the soil in which I grew? what evil planet drew me from that warm sunny region, where naked nature walks without disguise, into this cold, contriving, artificial country?

Stock. Come, sir, you've met a rascal-what of that? general conclusions are illiberal.

Bel. No, sir; I've met reflection by the way; I've come from folly, noise, and fury, and met a silent monitor-Well, well, a villain!-'twas not to be pardoned-pray, never mind me, sir.

Stock. Alas, my heart bleeds for him!

Bel. And yet I might have heard him: now, plague upon that blundering Irishman for coming in as he did! the hurry of the deed might palliate the event: deliberate execution has less to plead Mr Stockwell, I am bad company to

you.

Stock. Oh, sir, make no excuse. I think you have not found me forward to pry into the secrets of your pleasures and pursuits; 'tis not my disposition; but there are times, when want of curiosity would be want of friendship.

Bel. Ah, sir, mine is a case wherein you and I shall never think alike; the punctilious rules, by which I am bound, are not to be found in your ledgers, nor will pass current in the counting-house of a trader.

Stock. 'Tis very well, sir: if you think I can render you any service, it will be worth your trial to confide in me; if not, your secret is safer in your own bosom.

Bel. That sentiment demands my confidence: pray, sit down by me. You must know, I have an affair of honour on my hands with young Dudley; and, though I put up with no man's insult, yet I wish to take away no man's life.

Stock. I know the young man, and am apprised of your generosity to his father: what can have bred a quarrel between you?

Bel. A foolish passion on my side, and a haughty provocation on his. There is a girl, Mr Stockwell, whom I have unfortunately seen, of most uncommon beauty. She has, withal, an air of so much natural modesty, that had I not had good assurance of her being an attainable wanton, I declare I should as soon have thought of attempting the chastity of Diana.

Enter Servant.

Stock. Hey-day, do you interrupt us?

Ser. Sir, there's an Irish gentleman will take

Enter O'FLAHERTY.

O'Fla. Save yon, my dear: and you, sir! I have a little bit of a word in private for you. Bel. Pray deliver your commands: this gentleman is my intimate friend.

O'Fla. Why, then, ensign Dudley will be glad to measure swords with you, yonder, at the London Tavern, in Bishopsgate-street, at nine o'clockyou know the place!

Bel. I do; and shall observe the appointment. O'Fla. Will you be of the party, sir? We shall want a fourth hand.

Stock. Savage as the custom is, I close with your proposal; and, though I am not fully informed of the occasion of your quarrel, I shall rely on Mir Belcour's honour for the justice of it; and willingly stake my life in his defence.

O'Fla. Sir, you're a gentleman of honour, and I shall be glad of being better known to youBut hark'e, Belcour, I had like to have forgot part of my errand: there is the money you gave old Dudley; you may tell it over, 'faith; 'tis a receipt in full: now the lad can put you to death with a safe conscience; and when he has done that job for you, let it be a warning how you attempt the sister of a man of honour. Bel. The sister!

O'Fla. Ay, the sister; 'tis English, is it not? Or Irish; 'tis all one: you understand me? his sister, or Louisa Dudley, that's her name, I think, call her which you will. By St Patrick, 'tis a foolish piece of a business, Belcour, to go about to take away a poor girl's virtue from her, when there are so many to be met in this town, who have disposed of theirs to your hands. [Exit.

Stock. Why, I am thunderstruck! What is it you have done, and what is the shocking business in which I have engaged? If I understood him right, 'tis the sister of young Dudley you've been attempting: you talked to me of a professed wanton! the girl he speaks of has beauty enough indeed to inflame your desires, but she has honour, innocence, and simplicity, to awe the most licentious passion: if you have done that, Mr Belcour, I renounce you, I abandon you, I forswear all fellowship or friendship with you for

ever.

Bel. Have patience for a moment: we do indeed speak of the same person-but she is not innocent, she is not young Dudley's sister.

Stock. Astonishing! Who told you this?

Bel. The woman where she lodges; the person who put me on the pursuit, and contrived our

meetings.

Stock. What woman? what person?

town.

Enter STUKELY.

Bel. Because I had not lived long enough in your country to know how few informers' words are to be taken: persuaded, however, as I was of Miss Dudley's guilt, I must own to you, I was staggered with the appearance of such innocence, especially when I saw her admitted into Miss Rusport's company.

Stock. Good Heaven! did you meet her at Miss Rusport's, and could you doubt of her being a woman of reputation?

Bel. I own it.

Stock. For shame, for shame! and 'twas this woman's intelligence you relied upon for Miss Dudley's character?

Bel. I thought she knew her; by Heaven, I would have died sooner than have insulted a woman of virtue, or a man of honour!

Stock. I think you would: but mark the danger of licentious courses: you are betrayed, robbed, abused, and, but for this providential discovery, in a fair way of being sent out of the world with all your follies on your head- —Dear Stukely, go to my neighbour, tell him I have an owner for the jewels, and beg him to carry the people under custody to the London tavern, and wait for me there.- Erit STUKELY.]-I fear the law does not provide a punishment to reach the villainy of these people; but how, in the name of wonder, could you take any thing on the word of such an informer?

Stock. I see it was a trap laid for you, which you have narrowly escaped; you addressed a woman of honour with all the loose incense of a profane admirer, and you have drawn upon you the resentment of a man of honour, who thinks himself bound to protect her.—Well, sir, you must atone for this mistake.

Bel. To the lady, the most penitent submission can make is justly due; but, in the execution of an act of justice, it shall never be said my soul was swayed by the least particle of fear: I have received a challenge from her brother; now, though I would give my fortune, almost my life itself, to purchase her happiness, yet I cannot abate her one scruple of my honour; I have been branded with the name of villain.

Stock. Ay, sir, you mistook her character, and he mistook yours; error begets error.

Bel. Villain, Mr Stockwell, is a harsh word. Stock. It is a harsh word, and should be unsaid.

Bel. Come, come; it shall be unsaid.

Stock. Or else what follows? Why, the sword is drawn, and, to heal the wrongs you have done to the reputation of the sister, you make an honourable amends, by murdering the brother. Bel. Murdering!

Stock. 'Tis thus religion writes and speaks the word; in the vocabulary of modern honour there is no such term-But come, I don't despair of satisfying the one, without alarming the other; that done, I have a discovery to unfold, that you will then, I hope, be fitted to receive.

[Exeunt.