Enter LIONEL. Lionel. Was there ever such a wretch! I can't stay a moment in a place where is my repose ?-fled with my virtue. Was I then born for falsehood and dissimulation? I was, I was, and I live to be conscious of it; to impose upon my friend-to betray my benefactor, and lie to hide my ingratitude-a monster in a moment-No, I may be the most unfortunate of men, but I will not be the most odious; while my heart is yet capable of dictating what is honest, I will obey its voice. Enter COLONEL OLDBOY and HARMAN. Col. O. Dy, where are you? What, the mischief, is this a time to be walking in the garden? The coach has been ready this half hour, and your mamma is waiting for you. Diana. I am learning astronomy, sir; do you know, papa, that the moon is inhabited ? Col. O. Hussy, you are half a lunatic yourself; come here, things have gone just as I imagined they would, -the girl has refused your brother-I knew he must disgust her. Diana. Women will want taste, now and then, sir. Col. O. But I must talk to the young lady a little. Har. Well, I have had a long conference with your father about the elopement, and he continues firm in his opinion, that I ought to attempt it; in short, all the necessary operations are settled between us, and I am to leave his house to-morrow morning, if I can but persuade the young lady Diana. Ay, but I hope the young lady will have more sense. Col. O. Miss Clarissa, my dear, though I am father to the puppy who has displeased you, give me a kiss-you served him right, and I thank you for it. AIR. Col. O. O what a night is here for love! To the sighing breeze, Diana. O what a night is here for love! Har. As well as night, A lover's hopes may bless. Duet. Farewell, my friend, May gentle rest, Calm each tumult in your breast, Every pain and fear remove! Lionel. What have I done? Where shall I run? With grief and shame at once oppress'd ; Or meet my friend distress'd? Trio. Hark to Philomel, how sweet, Col. O. Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet. Nor Phabe's beams, Can charm, unless the heart's at ease. [Exeunt. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. A Room in COLONEL OLDBOY's House. Enter HARMAN, with his Hat, Boots, and Whip, Diana. Pr'ythee, hear me. Har. My dear, what would you say? Diana. I am afraid of the step we are going to take-indeed, I am: 'tis true, my father is the contriver of it; but, really, on consideration, I think I should appear less culpable if he was not so; I am, at once, criminal myself, and rendering him ridiculous. Har. Do you love me? Diana. Suppose I do, you give me a very ill proof of your love for me, when you would take advantage of my tenderness, to blind my reason. Har. Come, get yourself ready-where is your band-box, hat, and cloak?-Slip into the garden-be there at the iron gate, which you showed me just now, and, as the postchaise comes round, I will step and take you in. Diana. Dear Harman, let me beg of you to desist. Har. Dear Diana, let me beg of you to go on. Diana. I shall never have resolution to carry me through it. Har. We shall have four horses, my dear, and they will assist us. Diana. In short-I -cannot go with you. Har. But before me-into the garden-Won't you? AIR DIANA. Come then, pining, peevish lover, With their humours, thus to tease us, Enter COLONEL OLDBOY. [Exit. Col. O. Heyday! what's the meaning of this? Who is it that went out of the room, there? Have you and my daughter been in conference, Mr. Harman? Har. Yes, 'faith, sir; she has been taking me to task here very severely, with regard to this affair; and she has said so much against it, and put it into such a strange light Col. O. A busy, impertinent baggage! egad I wish I had catched her meddling, and after I ordered her not: but you have sent to the girl, and you say she is ready to go with you; you must not disappoint her now. Har. No, no, Colonel; I always have politeness enough to hear a lady's reasons; but constancy enough to keep a will of my own. Col. O. Very well-now let me ask you,-don't you think it would be proper, upon this occasion, to have a letter ready writ for the father, to let him know who has got his daughter, and so forth? Har. Certainly, sir; and I'll write it directly. Col. O. You write it! you be damned! I won't trust F you with it; I tell you, Harman, you'll commit some cursed blunder, if you don't leave the management of this whole affair to me: I have writ the letter for you myself. Har. Have you, sir? Col. O. Ay-here, read it: I think it's the thing: however, you are welcome to make any alteration. Har. Sir, I have loved your daughter a great while, secretly; she assures me there is no hope of your consenting to our marriage; I therefore take her without it. I am a gentleman who will use her well: and, when you consider the matter, I dare swear you will be willing to give her a fortune. If not, you shall find I dare behave myself like a man-A word to the wise-You must expect to hear from me in another style. Col. O. Now, sir, I will tell you what you must do with this letter: as soon as you have got off with the girl, sir, send your servant back, to leave it at the house, with orders to have it delivered to the old gentleman. Har. Upon my honour, I will, Colonel. Col. O. Then look into the court there, sir; a chaise with four of the prettiest bay geldings in England, with two boys in scarlet and silver jackets, that will whisk you along. Har. Boys, Colonel! Little cupids, to transport me to the summit of my desires. Col. O. Ay, but for all that, it mayn't be amiss for me to talk to them a little out of the window for you. Dick, come hither; you are to go with this gentleman, and do whatever he bids you; and take into the chaise whoever he pleases; and, drive like devils, do you hear? but be kind to the dumb beasts. Har. Leave that to me, sir-And so, my dear Colonel-bon voyage. [Exit. |