[Illustration: SPEED THE PLOUGH ASHFIELD--DICKENS AND DAISES! WHAT A GENTLEMANYOU WOU'D BE TO SHEW AT A FAIR! ACT I SCENE II PAINTED BY SINGLETON PUBLISH'D BY LONGMAN & CO. ENGRAVED BY FITTLER 1806] SPEED THE PLOUGH;A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS; AS PERFORMED AT THETHEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN. BY THOMAS MORTON, ESQ. PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS FROM THE PROMPT BOOK. WITH REMARKSBY MRS. INCHBALD. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, PATERNOSTER ROW. SAVAGE AND EASINGWOOD, PRINTERS, LONDON. REMARKS. This comedy excites that sensation, which is the best security for thesuccess of a drama--curiosity. After the two first acts are over, andpleasantly over, with the excellent drawn characters of Ashfield and hiswife, and the very just satire which arises from Sir Abel's propensityto modern improvements--the acts that follow excite deep interest andardent expectation; both of which are so highly gratified at theconclusion of the play, that, from the first night of its performance, it has ranked among the best of the author's productions, and in thefirst class of modern comedies. The various characters of this play are admirably designed, but not sohappily finished as the author meant them to be--witness, Bob Handy, whobegins a self-conceited coxcomb, and ends a tragedy confidant. But the good intentions of an author are acceptable: execution will notalways follow conception; and the last may often give as muchinstruction, though not equal delight with the former: as an instance, who does not see the folly of attempting to _do every thing_ in Handy, though he is more the shadow, than the substance of a character. Notwithstanding there are some parts, not so good as others, in thiscomedy, there is no one character superior to the rest, nor any one inparticular, which makes a forcible impression on the memory:--thisproves, (in consequence of the acknowledged merit of the play) the fableto be a good one, and that a pleasing combination has been studied andeffected by the author, with infinite skill, however incompetent to hisown brilliant imagination. The plot, and serious characters of this comedy, are said to be takenfrom a play of Kotzebue's, called, "The Duke of Burgundy, "--if they are, Mr. Morton's ingenuity of adapting them to our stage has been equal tothe merit he would have had in conceiving them; for that very playcalled, "The Duke of Burgundy, " by some verbal translator, --wascondemned or withdrawn at Covent Garden Theatre, not very long before"Speed the Plough" was received with the highest marks of admiration. The characters of Sir Philip Blandford, his brother, and his nephew, mayhave been imported from Germany, but surely, all the other personages ofthe drama are of pure English growth. The reception of this play, when first performed, and the high stationit still holds in the public opinion, should make criticism cautious ofattack--but as works of genuine art alone are held worthy ofinvestigation, and as all examinations tend to produce a degree ofcensure, as well as of praise, "Speed the Plough" is not exempt from thegeneral lot of every favourite production. An auditor will be much better pleased with this play, than a reader;for though it is well written, and interspersed with many poeticalpassages, an attentive peruser will find inconsistencies in thearrangement of the plot and incidents, which an audience, absorbed inexpectation of final events, and hurried away by the charm of scenicinterest, cannot easily detect. The most prominent of these blemishes are:--Miss Blandford falls in lovewith a plough-boy at first-sight, which she certainly would not havedone, but that some preternatural agent whispered to her, he was a youngman of birth. But whether this magical information came from thepalpitation of her heart, or the quickness of her eye, she has notsaid. --A reader will, however, gladly impute the cause of her suddenpassion to magic, rather than to the want of female refinement. The daughter has not less decorum in love, than the father inmurder. --That a character, grave and stern, as Sir Philip Blandford isdescribed, should entrust any man, especially such a man as Bob Handy, with a secret, on which, not only his reputation, but his life depended, can upon no principle of reason be accounted for; unless the author tookinto consideration, what has sometimes been observed, --that a murderer, in contrivance to conceal his guilt, foolishly fixes on the very means, which bring him to conviction. PERSONS REPRESENTED. SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD _Mr. Pope. _MORRINGTON _Mr. Murray. _SIR ABEL HANDY _Mr. Munden. _BOB HANDY _Mr. Fawcett. _HENRY _Mr. H. Johnston. _FARMER ASHFIELD _Mr. Knight. _EVERGREEN _Mr. Davenport. _GERALD _Mr. Waddy. _POSTILLION _Mr. Abbot. _YOUNG HANDY'S SERVANT _Mr. Klanert. _PETER _Mr. Atkins. _ MISS BLANDFORD _Mrs. H. Johnston. _LADY HANDY _Mrs. Dibdin. _SUSAN ASHFIELD _Miss Murray. _DAME ASHFIELD _Mrs. Davenport. _ SPEED THE PLOUGH. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. _In the fore ground a Farm House. --A view of a Castle at a distance. _ FARMER ASHFIELD _discovered at a table, with his jug and pipe. _ _Enter_ DAME ASHFIELD, _in a riding dress, and a basket under her arm. _ _Ash. _ Well, Dame, welcome whoam. What news does thee bring vrom market? _Dame. _ What news, husband? What I always told you; that Farmer Grundy'swheat brought five shillings a quarter more than ours did. _Ash. _ All the better vor he. _Dame. _ Ah! the sun seems to shine on purpose for him. _Ash. _ Come, come, missus, as thee hast not the grace to thank God forprosperous times, dan't thee grumble when they be unkindly a bit. _Dame. _ And I assure you, Dame Grundy's butter was quite the crack ofthe market. _Ash. _ Be quiet, woolye? aleways ding, dinging Dame Grundy into myears--what will Mrs. Grundy zay? What will Mrs. Grundy think--Canst theebe quiet, let ur alone, and behave thyzel pratty? _Dame. _--Certainly I can--I'll tell thee, Tummas, what she said atchurch last Sunday. _Ash. _ Canst thee tell what parson zaid? Noa--Then I'll tell thee--A'zaid that envy were as foul a weed as grows, and cankers all wholesomeplants that be near it--that's what a' zaid. _Dame. _ And do you think I envy Mrs. Grundy indeed? _Ash. _ Why dant thee letten her aloane then--I do verily think when theegoest to t'other world, the vurst question thee ax 'il be, if Mrs. Grundy's there--Zoa be quiet, and behave pratty, do'ye--Has thee broughtwhoam the Salisbury news? _Dame. _ No, Tummas: but I have brought a rare wadget of news with me. First and foremost I saw such a mort of coaches, servants, and waggons, all belonging to Sir Abel Handy, and all coming to the castle--and ahandsome young man, dressed all in lace, pulled off his hat to me, andsaid--"Mrs. Ashfield, do me the honour of presenting that letter to yourhusband. "--So there he stood without his hat--Oh, Tummas, had you seenhow Mrs. Grundy looked! _Ash. _ Dom Mrs. Grundy--be quiet, and let I read, woolye? [_Reads. _] "Mydear farmer" [_Taking off his hat. _] Thankye zur--zame to you, wi' allmy heart and soul--"My dear farmer"-- _Dame. _ Farmer--Why, you are blind, Tummas, it is--"My dear father"--Tisfrom our own dear Susan. _Ash. _ Odds dickens and daizeys! zoo it be, zure enow!--"My dearfeyther, you will be surprized"--Zoo I be, he, he! What pretty writing, bean't it? all as straight as thof it were ploughed--"Surprized to hear, that in a few hours I shall embrace you--Nelly, who was formerly ourservant, has fortunately married Sir Abel Handy Bart. "-- _Dame. _ Handy Bart. --Pugh! Bart. Stands for Baronight, mun. _Ash. _ Likely, likely, --Drabbit it, only to think of the zwaps andchanges of this world! _Dame. _ Our Nelly married to a great Baronet! I wonder, Tummas, whatMrs. Grundy will say? _Ash. _ Now, woolye be quiet, and let I read--"And she has proposedbringing me to see you; an offer, I hope, as acceptable to my dearfeyther"-- _Dame. _ "And mother"-- _Ash. _ Bless her, how prettily she do write feyther, dan't she? _Dame. _ And mother. _Ash. _ Ees, but feyther first, though----"As acceptable to my dearfeyther and mother, as to their affectionate daughter--SusanAshfield. "--Now bean't that a pratty letter? _Dame. _ And, Tummas, is not she a pretty girl? _Ash. _ Ees; and as good as she be pratty--Drabbit it, I do feel zoohappy, and zoo warm, --for all the world like the zun in harvest. _Dame. _ Oh, Tummas, I shall be so pleased to see her, I shan't knowwhether I stand on my head or my heels. _Ash. _ Stand on thy head! vor sheame o' thyzel--behave pratty, do. _Dame. _ Nay, I meant no harm--Eh, here comes friend Evergreen thegardener, from the castle. Bless me, what a hurry the old man is in. _Enter_ EVERGREEN. _Everg. _ Good day, honest Thomas. _Ash. _ Zame to you, measter Evergreen. _Everg. _ Have you heard the news? _Dame. _ Any thing about Mrs. Grundy? _Ash. _ Dame, be quiet, woolye now? _Everg. _ No, no--The news is, that my master, Sir Philip Blandford, after having been abroad for twenty years, returns this day to thecastle; and that the reason of his coming is, to marry his only daughterto the son of Sir Abel Handy, I think they call him. _Dame. _ As sure as two-pence, that is Nelly's husband. _Everg. _ Indeed!--Well, Sir Abel and his son will be here immediately;and, Farmer, you must attend them. _Ash. _ Likely, likely. _Everg. _ And, mistress, come and lend us a hand at the castle, willyou?--Ah, it is twenty long years since I have seen Sir Philip--Poorgentleman! bad, bad health--worn almost to the grave, I am told. ---Whata lad do I remember him--till that dreadful--[_Checking himself. _] Butwhere is Henry? I must see him--must caution him--[_A gun is dischargedat a distance. _] That's his gun, I suppose--he is not far then--PoorHenry! _Dame. _ Poor Henry! I like that indeed! What though he be nobody knowswho, there is not a girl in the parish that is not ready to pull capsfor him--The Miss Grundys, genteel as they think themselves, would beglad to snap at him--If he were our own, we could not love him better. _Everg. _ And he deserves to be loved--Why, he's as handsome as a peachtree in blossom; and his mind is as free from weeds as my favouritecarnation bed. But, Thomas, run to the castle, and receive Sir Abel andhis son. _Ash. _ I wool, I wool--Zo, good day. [_Bowing. _] Let every man make hisbow, and behave pratty--that's what I say. --Missus, do'ye show un Sue'sletter, woolye? Do ye letten see how pratty she do write feyther. [_Exit. _ _Dame. _ Now Tummas is gone, I'll tell you such a story about Mrs. Grundy--But come, step in, you must needs be weary; and I am sure a mugof harvest beer, sweetened with a hearty welcome, will refresh you. [_Exeunt into the house. _ SCENE II. _Outside and gate of the Castle--Servants cross the stage, laden withdifferent packages. _ _Enter_ ASHFIELD. _Ash. _ Drabbit it, the wold castle 'ul be hardly big enow to hold allthic lumber. _Sir Abel Handy. _ [_Without. _] Gently there! mind how you go, Robin. [_A crash. _ _Ash. _ Who do come here? A do zeem a comical zoart ov a man--Oh, AbelHandy, I suppoze. _Enter_ SIR ABEL HANDY. --SERVANT _following. _ _Sir Abel. _ Zounds and fury! you have killed the whole county, you dog!for you have broke the patent medicine chest, that was to keep them allalive!--Richard, gently!--take care of the grand Archimediancorkscrews!--Bless my soul! so much to think of! Such wonderfulinventions in conception, in concoction, and in completion! _Enter_ PETER. Well, Peter, is the carriage much broke? _Peter. _ Smashed all to pieces. I thought as how, sir, that yourinfallible axletree would give way. _Sir Abel. _ Confound it, it has compelled me to walk so far in the wet, that I declare my water-proof shoes are completely soaked through. [_Exit_ PETER. ] Now to take a view with my new invented glass! [_Pulls out his glass. _ _Ash. _ [_Loud and bluntly. _] Zarvent, zur! Zarvent! _Sir Abel. _ [_Starting. _] What's that? Oh, good day. --Devil take thefellow? [_Aside. _ _Ash. _ Thankye, zur; zame to you with all my heart and zoul. _Sir Abel. _ Pray, friend, could you contrive _gently_ to inform me, where I can find one Farmer Ashfield. _Ash. _ Ha, ha, ha! [_Laughing loudly. _] Excuse my tittering a bit--butyour axing mysel vor I be so domm'd zilly [_Bowing and laughing. _]--Ah!you stare at I beceas I be bashful and daunted. _Sir Abel. _ You are very bashful, to be sure. I declare I'm quite weary. _Ash. _ If you'll walk into the castle, you may zit down, I dare zay. _Sir Abel. _ May I indeed? you are a fellow of extraordinary civility. _Ash. _ There's no denying it, zur. _Sir Abel. _ No, I'll sit here. _Ash. _ What! on the ground! Why you'll wring your ould withers-- _Sir Abel. _ On the ground--no, I always carry my seat with me [_Spreadsa small camp chair. _]--Here I'll sit and examine the surveyor's accountof the castle. _Ash. _ Dickens and daizeys! what a gentleman you wou'd be to shew at avair! _Sir Abel. _ Silence fellow, and attend--"An account of the castle anddomain of Sir Philip Blandford, intended to be settled as a marriageportion on his daughter, and the son of Sir Abel Handy, --by FrankFlourish, surveyor. --Imprimis--The premises command an exquisite view ofthe Isle of Wight. "--Charming! delightful! I don't see it though[_Rising. _]--I'll try with my new glass--my own invention--[_He looksthrough the glass. _] Yes, there I caught it--Ah! now I see itplainly--Eh! no--I don't see it, do you? _Ash. _ Noa, zur, I doant--but little zweepy do tell I he can zee a bitout from the top of the chimbley--zoa, an you've a mind to crawl up youmay zee un too, he, he! _Sir Abel. _ Thank you--but damn your titter. [_Reads. _]--"Fish pondswell stocked"--That's a good thing, Farmer. _Ash. _ Likely, likely--but I doant think the vishes do thrive much intheas ponds. _Sir Abel. _ No! why? _Ash. _ Why, the ponds be always dry i'the zummer; and I be tould thatbean't wholesome vor the little vishes. _Sir Abel. _ Not very, I believe--Well said surveyor! "A cool summerhouse. " _Ash. _ Ees, zur, quite cool--by reason the roof be tumbled in. _Sir Abel. _ Better and better--"the whole capable of the greatestimprovement. "--Come, that seems true however--I shall have plenty to do, that's one comfort--I have such contrivances! I'll have a canal runthrough my kitchen. --I must give this rustic some idea of myconsequence. [_Aside. _] You must know, Farmer, you have the honour ofconversing with a man, who has obtained patents for tweezers, tooth-picks, and tinder boxes--to a philosopher, who has been consultedon the Wapping docks and the Gravesend tunnel; and who has now in handtwo inventions which will render him immortal--the one is, convertingsaw dust into deal boards, and the other is, a plan of cleaning rooms bya steam engine--and, Farmer, I mean to give prizes for industry--I'llhave a ploughing match. _Ash. _ Will you, zur? _Sir Abel. _ Yes; for I consider a healthy young man, between the handlesof a plough, as one of the noblest illustrations of the prosperity ofBritain. _Ash. _ Faith and troth! there be some tightish hands in theas parts, Ipromize ye. _Sir Abel. _ And, Farmer, it shall precede the hymeneal festivities-- _Ash. _ Nan! _Sir Abel. _ Blockhead! The ploughing match shall take place as soon asSir Philip Blandford and his daughter arrive. _Ash. _ Oh, likely, likely. _Enter_ SERVANT. _Serv. _ Sir Abel, I beg to say, my master will be here immediately. _Sir Abel. _ And, sir, I beg to ask who possesses the happiness of beingyour master? _Serv. _ Your son, sir, Mr. Robert Handy. _Sir Abel. _ Indeed! and where is Bob? _Serv. _ I left him, sir, in the belfrey of the church. _Sir Abel. _ Where? _Serv. _ In the belfrey of the church. _Sir Abel. _ In the belfrey of the church! What was he doing there? _Serv. _ Why, Sir, the _natives_ were ringing a peal in honour of ourarrival--when my master finding they knew nothing of the matter, went upto the steeple to instruct them, and ordered me to proceed to theCastle--Give me leave, Sir Abel, to take this out of your way. [_Takesthe camp chair. _] Sir, I have the honour-- [_Bows and Exit. _ _Sir Abel. _ Wonderful! My Bob, you must know, is an astonishingfellow!--you have heard of the _admirable Crichton_, may be? Bob's ofthe same kidney! I contrive, he executes--Sir Abel _invenit_, Bob_fecit_. He can do everything--everything! _Ash. _ All the better vor he. I zay, zur, as he can turn his head toeverything, pray, in what way med he earn his livelihood? _Sir Abel. _ Earn his livelihood! _Ash. _ Ees, zur;--How do he gain his bread! _Sir Abel. _ Bread! Oh, he can't earn his bread, bless you! he's agenius. _Ash. _ Genius! Drabbit it, I have got a horze o' thic name, but dom' un, he'll never work--never. _Sir Abel. _ Egad; here comes my boy Bob!--Eh! no--it is not! no. _Enter_ POSTBOY, _with a round hat and cane. _ Why, who the devil are you? _Postb. _ I am the postboy, your honour, but the gem'man said I did notknow how to drive, so he mounted my horse, and made me get inside--Herehe is. _Enter_ HANDY, jun. _with a postboy's cap and whip. _ _Handy, jun. _ Ah, my old Dad, is that you? _Sir Abel. _ Certainly! the only doubt is, if that be you? _Handy, jun. _ Oh, I was teaching this fellow to drive--Nothing is sohorrible as people pretending to do what they are unequal to--Give me myhat--That's the way to use a whip. _Postb. _ Sir, you know you have broke the horses' knees all to pieces. _Handy, jun. _ Hush, there's a guinea. [_Apart. _ _Sir Abel. _ [_To_ ASHFIELD. ] You see, Bob can do everything. But, sir, when you knew I had arrived from Germany, why did you not pay your dutyto me in London? _Handy, jun. _ Sir, I heard you were but four days married, and I wouldnot interrupt your honeymoon. _Sir Abel. _ Four days! oh, you might have come. [_Sighing. _ _Handy, jun. _ I hear you have taken to your arms a simple rustic, unsophisticated by fashionable follies--a full blown blossom of nature. _Sir Abel. _ Yes! _Handy, jun. _ How does it answer? _Sir Abel. _ So, so! _Handy, jun. _ Any thorns? _Sir Abel. _ A few. _Handy, jun. _ I must be introduced--where is she? _Sir Abel. _ Not within thirty miles; for I don't hear her. _Ash. _ Ha, ha, ha! _Handy, jun. _ Who is that? _Sir Abel. _ Oh, a pretty behaved tittering friend of mine. _Ash. _ Zarvent, zur--No offence, I do hope--Could not help tittering abit at Nelly--when she were zarvent maid wi' I, she had a tightishprattle wi' her, that's vor zartain. _Handy, jun. _ Oh! so then my honoured mamma was the servant of thistittering gentleman--I say, father, perhaps she has not lost thetightish prattle he speaks of. _Sir Abel. _ My dear boy, come here--Prattle! I say did you ever livenext door to a pewterer's?--that's all--you understand me--did you everhear a dozen fire-engines full gallop?--were you ever at Billingsgate inthe sprat season?--or---- _Handy, jun. _ Ha, ha! _Sir Abel. _ Nay, don't laugh, Bob. _Handy, jun. _ Indeed, sir, you think of it too seriously. The storm, Idare say, soon blows over. _Sir Abel. _ Soon! you know what a trade wind is, don't you, Bob? why, she thinks no more of the latter end of her speech, than she does of thelatter end of her life-- _Handy, jun. _ Ha! ha! _Sir Abel. _ But I won't be laugh'd at--I'll knock any man down thatlaughs! Bob, if you can say any thing pleasant, I'll trouble you; ifnot, do what my wife can't--hold your tongue. _Handy, jun. _ I'll shew you what I can do--I'll amuse you with thisnative. [_Apart. _ _Sir Abel. _ Do--do--quiz him--at him, Bob. _Handy, jun. _ I say, Farmer, you are a set of jolly fellows here, an'tyou? _Ash. _ Ees, zur, deadly jolly--excepting when we be otherwise, and thenwe bean't. _Handy, jun. _ Play at cricket, don't you? _Ash. _ Ees, zur; we Hampshire lads conceat we can bowl a bit orthereabouts. _Handy, jun. _ And cudgel too, I suppose? _Sir Abel. _ At him, Bob. _Ash. _ Ees, zur, we sometimes break oon another's heads, by way of beingagreeable, and the like o'that. _Handy, jun. _ Understand all the guards? [_Putting himself in anattitude of cudgelling. _] _Ash. _ Can't zay I do, zur. _Handy, jun. _ What! hit in this way, eh? [_Makes a hit at_ ASHFIELD, _which he parries, and hits young_ HANDY _violently. _] _Ash. _ Noa, zur, we do hit thic way. _Handy, jun. _ Zounds and fury! _Sir Abel. _ Why, Bob, he has broke your head. _Handy, jun. _ Yes; he rather hit me--he somehow---- _Sir Abel. _ He did indeed, Bob. _Handy, jun. _ Damn him--The fact is, I am out of practice. _Ash. _ You need not be, zur; I'll gi' ye a belly full any day, wi' allmy heart and soul. _Handy, jun. _ No, no, thank you--Farmer, what's your name? _Ash. _ My name be Tummas Ashfield--any thing to say against my name? [_Threatening. _ _Handy, jun. _ No, no--Ashfield! shou'd he be the father of my prettySusan--Pray have you a daughter? _Ash. _ Ees, I have--any thing to zay against she? _Handy, jun. _ No, no; I think her a charming creature. _Ash. _ Do ye, faith and troth--Come, that be deadly kind o'yehowever--Do you zee, I were _frightful_ she were not agreeable. _Handy, jun. _ Oh, she's extremely agreeable to me, I assure you. _Ash. _ I vow, it be quite pratty in you to take notice of Sue. I dohope, zur, breaking your head will break noa squares--She be a comingdown to theas parts wi' lady our maid Nelly, as wur--your spouse, zur. _Handy, jun. _ The devil she is! that's awkward! _Ash. _ I do hope you'll be kind to Sue when she do come, woolye, zur? _Handy, jun. _ You may depend on it. _Sir Abel. _ I dare say you may. Come, Farmer, attend us. _Ash. _ Ees, zur; wi' all respect--Gentlemen, pray walk thic way, andI'll walk before you. [_Exit. _ _Sir Abel. _ Now, that's what he calls behaving pretty. Damn his prettybehaviour. [_Exeunt. _ SCENE III. _A Grove. _ [MORRINGTON _comes down the stage, wrapped in a great coat--He looksabout--then at his watch, and whistles--which is answered. _] _Enter_ GERALD. _Mor. _ Here, Gerald! Well, my trusty fellow, is Sir Philip arrived? _Ger. _ No, sir; but hourly expected. _Mor. _ Tell me, how does the castle look? _Ger. _ Sadly decayed, sir. _Mor. _ I hope, Gerald, you were not observed. _Ger. _ I fear otherwise, sir; on the skirts of the domain I encountereda stripling with his gun; but I darted into that thicket, and so avoidedhim. [HENRY _appears in the back ground, in a shooting dress, attentivelyobserving them. _] _Mor. _ Have you gained any intelligence? _Ger. _ None: the report that reached us was false--The infant certainlydied with its mother--Hush! conceal yourself--we are observed--this way. [_They retreat_--HENRY _advances. _ _Henry. _ Hold! as a friend, one word! [_They exeunt, he follows them, and returns. _ Again they have escaped me--"_The infant died with its mother_"--Thisagony of doubt is insupportable. _Enter_ EVERGREEN. _Everg. _ Henry, well met. _Henry. _ Have you seen strangers? _Everg. _ No! _Henry. _ Two but now have left this place--They spoke of a lostchild--My busy fancy led me to think I was the object of their search--Ipressed forward, but they avoided me. _Everg. _ No, no; it could not be you; for no one on earth knows butmyself, and---- _Henry. _ Who? Sir Philip Blandford? _Everg. _ I am sworn, you know, my dear boy; I am solemnly sworn tosilence. _Henry. _ True, my good old friend; and if the knowledge of who I am canonly be obtained at the price of thy perjury, let me for ever remainignorant--let the corroding thought still haunt my pillow, cross me atevery turn, and render me insensible to the blessings of health andliberty--yet, in vain do I suppress the thought--who am I? why thusabandoned? perhaps the despised offspring of guilt--Ah! is it so? [_Seizing him violently. _ _Everg. _ Henry, do I deserve this? _Henry. _ Pardon me, good old man! I'll act more reasonably--I'll deemthy silence mercy. _Everg. _ That's wisely said. _Henry. _ Yet it is hard to think, that the most detested reptile thatnature forms, or man pursues, has, when he gains his den, a parent'spitying breast to shelter in; but I---- _Everg. _ Come, come, no more of this. _Henry. _ Well!----I visited to-day that young man who was so grievouslybruised by the breaking of his team. _Everg. _ That was kindly done, Henry. _Henry. _ I found him suffering under extreme torture, yet a ray of joyshot from his languid eye--for his medicine was administered by afather's hand--it was a mother's precious tear that dropped upon hiswound--Oh, how I envied him! _Everg. _ Still on the same subject--I tell thee, if thou art notacknowledged by thy race, why, then become the noble founder of a newone. --Come with me to the castle, for the last time. _Henry. _ The last time! _Everg. _ Aye, boy; for, when Sir Philip arrives, you must avoid him. _Henry. _ Not see him! where exists the power that shall prevent me? _Everg. _ Henry, if you value your own peace of mind--if you value an oldman's comfort, avoid the castle. _Henry. _ [_Aside. _] I must dissemble with this honest creature--Well, Iam content. _Everg. _ That's right--that's right, --Henry--Be but thou resigned andvirtuous, and He, who clothes the lily of the field, will be a parent tothee. [_Exeunt. _ ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. _A Lodge belonging to the Castle. _ _Dame Ashfield discovered making lace. _ _Enter_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Handy, jun. _ A singular situation this my old dad has placed me in;brought me here to marry a woman of fashion and beauty, while I havebeen professing, and I've a notion feeling, the most ardent love for thepretty Susan Ashfield--Propriety says, take Miss Blandford--Love says, take Susan--Fashion says, take both--but would Susan consent to such anarrangement?--and if she refused, would I consent to part with her?--Oh, time enough to put that question, when the previous one is disposedof--[_Seeing_ DAME. ] How do you do? How do you do?--Making lace, Iperceive--Is it a common employment, here? _Dame. _ Oh, no, sir? nobody can make it in these parts but myself!--Mrs. Grundy, indeed, pretends--but, poor woman! she knows no more of it thanyou do. _Handy, jun. _ Than I do! that's vastly well;--My dear madam, I passedtwo months at Mechlin for the express purpose. _Dame. _ Indeed! _Handy, jun. _ You don't do it right--now I can do it much better thanthat. Give me leave, and I'll shew you the true Mechlin method [_Turnsthe cushion round, kneels down, and begins working. _] First you see, so--then, so-- _Enter_ SIR ABEL, _and_ MISS BLANDFORD. _Sir Abel. _ I vow, Miss Blandford, fair as I ever thought you, the airof your native land has given additional lustre to yourcharms!--[_Aside. _] If my wife looked so--Ah! but where can Bob be?--Youmust know, miss, my son is a very clever fellow! you won't find himwasting his time in boyish frivolity!--no; you will find him-- [_Sees him. _ _Miss B. _ Is that your son, sir? _Sir Abel. _ [_Abashed. _] Yes, that's Bob! _Miss B. _ Pray, sir, is he making lace, or is he making love? _Sir Abel. _ Curse me if I can tell. [_Hits him with his stick. _] Get up, you dog! don't you see Miss Blandford? _Handy, jun. _ [_Starting up. _] Zounds! how unlucky! Ma'am, your mostobedient servant. [_Endeavours to hide the work. _] Curse the cushion! [_Throws it off. _ _Dame. _ Oh! he has spoiled my lace! _Handy, jun. _ Hush! I'll make you a thousand yards another time--Yousee, ma'am, I was explaining to this good woman--what--what need not beexplained again--Admirably handsome, by Heaven! [_Aside. _ _Sir Abel. _ Is not she, Bob? _Handy, jun. _ [_To_ MISS B. ] In your journey from the coast, I concludeyou took London in your way? Hush! [_To_ DAME. _Miss B. _ Oh no, sir, I could not so soon venture into the _beau monde_;a stranger just arrived from Germany-- _Handy, jun. _ The very reason--the most fashionable introductionpossible! but I perceive, sir, you have here imitated other Germanimportations, and only restored to us our native excellence. _Miss B. _ I assure you, sir, I am eager to seize my birthright, the pureand envied immunities of an English woman! _Handy, jun. _ Then I trust, madam, you will be patriot enough to agreewith me, that as a nation is poor, whose only wealth isimportation--that therefore the humble native artist may ever hope toobtain from his countrymen those fostering smiles, without which geniusmust sicken and industry decay. But it requires no _valet de place_ toconduct you through the purlieus of fashion, for now the way of theworld is, for every one to pursue their own way; and following thefashion is differing as much as possible from the rest of youracquaintance. _Miss B. _ But, surely sir, there is some distinguishing feature, bywhich the votaries of fashion are known? _Handy, jun. _ Yes; but that varies extremely--sometimes fashionablecelebrity depends on a high waist--sometimes on a lowcarriage--sometimes on high play, and sometimes on low breeding--lastwinter it rested solely on green peas! _Miss B. _ Green peas! _Handy, jun. _ Green peas--That lady was the most enchanting, who couldbring the greatest quantity of green peas to her table at Christmas! thestruggle was tremendous! Mrs. Rowley Powley had the best of it by fivepecks and a half, but it having been unfortunately proved, that at herball there was room to dance and eat conveniently--that no lady receiveda black eye, and no coachman was killed, the thing was voted decent andcomfortable, and scouted accordingly. _Miss B. _ Is comfort then incompatible with fashion? _Handy, jun. _ Certainly!--Comfort in high life would be as preposterousas a lawyer's bag crammed with truth, or his wig decorated withcoquelicot ribbons! No--it is not comfort and selection that is sought, but numbers and confusion! So that a fashionable party resemblesSmithfield market, --only a good one when plentifully stocked--and ladiesare reckoned by the score, like sheep, and their husbands by droves, like horned cattle! _Miss B. _ Ha, ha! and the conversation-- _Handy, jun. _ Oh! like the assembly--confused, vapid, and abundant; as"How do, ma'am!--no accident at the door?--he, he!"--"Only my carriagebroke to pieces!"--"I hope you had not your pocket picked!"--"Won't yousit down to faro?"--"Have you many to-night?"--"A few, about sixhundred!"--"Were you at Lady Overall's?"--"Oh yes; a delicious crowd, and plenty of peas, he, he!"--and thus runs the fashionable race. _Sir Abel. _ Yes; and a precious run it is--full gallop all the way:first they run on--then their fortune is run through--then bills are runup--then they are run hard--then they've a run of luck--then they runout, and then they run away!--But I'll forgive fashion all its folliesin consideration of one of its blessed laws. _Handy, jun. _ What may that be! _Sir Abel. _ That husband and wife must never be seen together. _Enter_ SERVANT. _Serv. _ Miss Blandford, your father expects you. _Miss B. _ I hope I shall find him more composed. _Handy, jun. _ Is Sir Philip ill? _Miss B. _ His spirits are extremely depressed, and since we arrived herethis morning his dejection has dreadfully increased. _Handy, jun. _ But I hope we shall be able to laugh away despondency. _Miss B. _ Sir, if you are pleased to consider my esteem as an objectworth your possession, I know no way of obtaining it so certain as byyour shewing every attention to my dear father. [_As they are going, _ _Enter_ ASHFIELD. _Ash. _ Dame! Dame! she be come! _Dame. _ Who? Susan! our dear Susan? _Ash. _ Ees--zo--come along--Oh, Sir Abel! Lady Nelly, your spouse, doorder you to go to her directly! _Handy, jun. _ Order! you mistake-- _Sir Abel. _ No, he don't--she generally prefers that word. _Miss B. _ Adieu! Sir Abel. [_Exeunt_ MISS BLANDFORD _and_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Sir Abel. _ Oh! if my wife had such a pretty way with her mouth. _Dame. _ And how does Susan look? _Ash. _ That's what I do want to know, zoa come along--Woo yethough--Missus, let's behave pratty--Zur if you pleaze, Dame and I willlet you walk along wi' us. _Sir Abel. _ How condescending! Oh, you are a pretty behaved fellow! [_Exeunt. _ SCENE II. _Farmer_ ASHFIELD'S _Kitchen. _ _Enter_ LADY HANDY _and_ SUSAN. _Susan. _ My dear home, thrice welcome!--What gratitude I feel to yourladyship for this indulgence! _Lady H. _ That's right, child! _Susan. _ And I am sure you partake my pleasure in again visiting aplace, where you received every protection and kindness my parents couldshew you, for, I remember, while you lived with my father-- _Lady H. _ Child! don't put your memory to any fatigue on my account--youmay transfer the remembrance of who I was, to aid your more perfectrecollection of who I am. _Susan. _ Lady Handy! _Lady H. _ That's right, child!--I am not angry. _Susan. _ [_Looking out. _] Ah! I see my dear father and mother comingthrough the garden. _Lady H. _ Oh! now I shall be caressed to death; but I must endure theshock of their attentions. _Enter_ FARMER _and_ DAME, _with_ SIR ABEL. _Ash. _ My dear Susan! [_They run to_ SUSAN. _Dame. _ My sweet child! give me a kiss. _Ash. _ Hald thee! Feyther first though--Well, I be as mortal glad to zeethee as never war--and how be'st thee? and how do thee like Lunnun town?it be a deadly lively place I be tuold. _Dame. _ Is not she a sweet girl? _Sir Abel. _ That she is. _Lady H. _ [_With affected dignity. _] Does it occur to any one present, that Lady Handy is in the room? _Sir Abel. _ Oh, Lud! I'm sure, my dear wife, I never forget, that youare in the room. _Ash. _ Drabbitit! I overlooked Lady Nelly, sure enow; but consider, there be zome difference between thee and our own Susan! I be deadlyglad to zee thee, however. _Dame. _ So am I, Lady Handy. _Ash. _ Don't ye take it unkind I han't a buss'd thee yet--meant noslight indeed. [_Kisses her. _ _Lady H. _ Oh! shocking! [_Aside. _ _Ash. _ No harm I do hope, zur. _Sir Abel. _ None at all. _Ash. _ But dash it, Lady Nelly, what do make thee paint thy vace allover we rud ochre zoo? Be it vor thy spouse to knaw thee?--that be theway I do knaw my sheep. _Sir Abel. _ The flocks of fashion are all marked so, Farmer. _Ash. _ Likely! Drabbit it! thee do make a tightish kind of a ladyshipzure enow. _Dame. _ That you do, my lady! you remember the old house? _Ash. _ Aye; and all about it, doant ye? Nelly! my lady! _Lady H. _ Oh! I'm quite shock'd--Susan, child! prepare a room where Imay dress before I proceed to the castle. [_Exit_ SUSAN. _Enter_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Handy, jun. _ I don't see Susan--I say, Dad, is that my mamma? _Sir Abel. _ Yes--speak to her. _Handy, jun. _ [_Chucking her under the chin_] A fine girl, upon my soul! _Lady H. _ Fine girl, indeed! Is this behaviour! _Handy, jun. _ Oh! beg pardon, most honoured parent. [_Shecurtsies. _]---that's a damned bad curtsey, I can teach you to make amuch better curtsey than that! _Lady H. _ You teach me, that am old enough to--hem! _Handy, jun. _ Oh! that toss of the head was very bad indeed--Look atme!--That's the thing! _Lady H. _ Am I to be insulted? Sir Abel, you know I seldom condescend totalk. _Sir Abel. _ Don't say so, my lady, you wrong yourself. _Lady H. _ But, when I do begin, you know not where it will end. _Sir Abel. _ Indeed I do not. [_Aside. _ _Lady H. _ I insist on receiving all possible respect from your son. _Handy, jun. _ And you shall have it, my dear girl!--Madam, I mean. _Lady H. _ I vow, I am agitated to that degree--Sir Abel! my fan. _Sir Abel. _ Yes, my dear--Bob, look here, a little contrivance of myown. While others carry swords and such like dreadful weapons in theircanes, I more gallantly carry a fan. [_Removes the head of his cane, anddraws out a fan. _] A pretty thought, isn't it? [_Presents it to hislady. _] _Ash. _ Some difference between thic stick and mine, beant there, zur? [_To_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Handy, jun. _ [_Moving away. _] Yes, there is. --[_To Lady H. _] Do youcall that fanning yourself? [_Taking the fan. _] My dear ma'am, this isthe way to manœuvre a fan. _Lady H. _ Sir, you shall find [_To_ HANDY, _jun. _] I have power enoughto make you repent this behaviour, severely repent it--Susan! [_Exit followed by_ DAME. _Handy, jun. _ Bravo! passion becomes her; she does that vastly well. _Sir Abel. _ Yes, practice makes perfect. _Enter_ SUSAN. _Susan. _ Did your ladyship call?--Heavens! Mr. Handy! _Handy, jun. _ Hush! my angel! be composed! that letter will explain. [_Giving a letter, noticed by_ ASHFIELD. ] Lady Handy wishes to see you. _Susan. _ Oh, Robert! _Handy, jun. _ At present, my love, no more. [_Exit_ Susan, _followed by_ ASHFIELD. _Sir Abel. _ What were you saying, sir, to that young woman? _Handy, jun. _ Nothing particular, sir. Where is Lady Handy going? _Sir Abel. _ To dress. _Handy, jun. _ I suppose she has found out the use of money. _Sir Abel. _ Yes; I'll do her the justice to say she encouragestrade. --Why, do you know, Bob, my best coal pit won't find her in whitemuslins--round her neck hangs an hundred acres at least; my noblest oakshave made wigs for her; my fat oxen have dwindled into Dutch pugs, andwhite mice; my India bonds are transmuted into shawls and otto of roses;and a magnificent mansion has shrunk into a diamond snuff-box. _Enter_ COUNTRYMAN. _Coun. _ Gentlemen, the folks be all got together, and the ploughs beready--and---- _Sir Abel. _ We are coming. [_Exit_ SERVANT. _Handy, jun. _ Ploughs? _Sir Abel. _ Yes, Bob, we are going to have a grand agricultural meeting. _Handy, jun. _ Indeed! _Sir Abel. _ If I could but find a man able to manage my new-invented_curricle_ plough, none of them would have a chance. _Handy, jun. _ My dear sir, if there be any thing on earth I can do, itis that. _Sir Abel. _ What! _Handy. _ I rather fancy I can plough better than any man in England. _Sir Abel. _ You don't say so! What a clever fellow he is! I say, Bob, ifyou would-- _Handy, jun. _ No! I can't condescend. _Sir Abel. _ Condescend! why not?--much more creditable, let me tell you, than gallopping a maggot for a thousand, or eating a live cat, or anyother fashionable achievement. _Handy, jun. _ So it is--Egad! I will--I'll carry off the prize ofindustry. _Sir Abel. _ But should you lose, Bob. _Handy, jun. _ I lose! that's vastly well! _Sir Abel. _ True, with my curricle plough you could hardly fail. _Handy, jun. _ With my superior skill, Dad--Then, I say, how thenewspapers will teem with the account. _Sir Abel. _ Yes. _Handy, jun. _ That universal genius, Handy, junior, with a plough---- _Sir Abel. _ Stop--invented by that ingenious machinist, Handy, senior. _Handy, jun. _ Gained the prize against the first husbandmen inHampshire--Let our Bond-street butterflies emulate the example of Handy, junior. -- _Sir Abel. _ And let old city grubs cultivate the field of science, likeHandy, senior--Ecod! I am so happy! _Lady H. _ [_Without. _] Sir Abel! _Sir Abel. _ Ah! there comes a damper. _Handy, jun. _ Courage! you have many resources of happiness. _Sir Abel. _ Have I? I should be very glad to know them. _Handy, jun. _ In the first place you possess an excellent temper. _Sir Abel. _ So much the worse; for if I had a bad one, I should be thebetter able to conquer hers. _Handy, jun. _ You enjoy good health-- _Sir Abel. _ So much the worse; for if I were ill, she wouldn't come nearme. _Handy, jun. _ Then you are rich-- _Sir Abel. _ So much the worse; for had I been poor, she would not havemarried me. But I, say, Bob, if you gain the prize, I'll have a patentfor my plough. _Lady H. _ [_Without. _] Sir Abel! I say-- _Handy, jun. _ Father, could not you get a patent for stopping that sortof noise? _Sir Abel. _ If I could, what a sale it would have!--No, Bob, a patenthas been obtained for the only thing that will silence her-- _Handy, jun. _ Aye--What's that? _Sir Abel. _ [_In a whisper. _] A coffin! hush!--I'm coming, my dear. _Handy, jun. _ Ha, ha, ha! [_Exeunt. _ SCENE III. _A Parlour in_ ASHFIELD'S _House. _ _Enter_ ASHFIELD _and Wife. _ _Ash. _ I tell ye, I zee'd un gi' Susan a letter, an I dan't like it abit. _Dame. _ Nor I: if shame should come to the poor child--I say, Tummas, what would Mrs. Grundy say then? _Ash. _ Dom Mrs. Grundy; what would my poor wold heart zay? but I bebound it be all innocence. _Enter_ HENRY. _Dame. _ Ah, Henry! we have not seen thee at home all day. _Ash. _ And I do zomehow fanzie things dan't go zo clever when thee'rtaway from farm. _Henry. _ My mind has been greatly agitated. _Ash. _ Well, won't thee go and zee the ploughing match? _Henry. _ Tell me, will not those who obtain prizes be introduced to theCastle? _Ash. _ Ees, and feasted in the great hall. _Henry. _ My good friend, I wish to become a candidate. _Dame. _ You, Henry! _Henry. _ It is time I exerted the faculties Heaven has bestowed on me;and though my heavy fate crushes the proud hopes this heart conceives, still let me prove myself worthy of the place Providence has assignedme. --[_Aside. _] Should I succeed, it will bring me to the presence ofthat man, who (I know not why) seems the dictator of my fate. --[_Tothem. _] Will you furnish me with the means? _Ash. _ Will I!--Thou shalt ha' the best plough in the parish--I wish itwere all gould for thy zake--and better cattle there can't be noowhere. _Henry. _ Thanks, my good friend--my benefactor--I have little time forpreparation--So receive my gratitude, and farewell. [_Exit. _ _Dame. _ A blessing go with thee! _Ash. _ I zay, Henry, take Jolly, and Smiler, and Captain, but dan't yetake thic lazy beast Genius--I'll be shot if having vive load an acre onmy wheat land could please me more. _Dame. _ Tummas, here comes Susan reading the letter. _Ash. _ How pale she do look! dan't she? _Dame. _ Ah! poor thing!--If---- _Ash. _ Hauld thy tongue, woolye? [_They retire. _ _Enter_ SUSAN, _reading the letter. _ _Susan. _ Is it possible! Can the man to whom I've given my heart writethus!--"I am compelled to marry Miss Blandford; but my love for my Susanis unalterable--I hope she will not, for an act of necessity, cease tothink with tenderness on her faithful Robert. "----Oh man! ungratefulman! it is from our bosoms alone you derive your power; how cruel thento use it, in fixing in those bosoms endless sorrow anddespair!----"Still think with tenderness"--Base, dishonourableinsinuation--He might have allowed me to esteem him. [_Locks up theletter in a box on the table, and exit weeping. _] [ASHFIELD _and_ DAME _come forward. _] _Ash. _ Poor thing!--What can be the matter--She locked up the letter inthic box, and then burst into tears. [_Looks at the box. _ _Dame. _ Yes, Tummas; she locked it in that box sure enough. [_Shakes a bunch of keys that hangs at her side. _ _Ash. _ What be doing, Dame? what be doing? _Dame. _ [_With affected indifference. _] Nothing; I was only touchingthese keys. [_They look at the box and keys significantly. _ _Ash. _ A good tightish bunch! _Dame. _ Yes; they are of all sizes. [_They look as before. _ _Ash. _ Indeed!--Well--Eh!--Dame, why dan't ye speak? thou canst chatterfast enow zometimes. _Dame. _ Nay, Tummas--I dare say--if--you know best--but I think I couldfind---- _Ash. _ Well, Eh!--you can just try you knaw [_Greatly agitated. _] Youcan try, just vor the vun on't: but mind, dan't ye make a noise. [_Sheopens it. _] Why, thee hasn't opened it? _Dame. _ Nay, Tummas! you told me! _Ash. _ Did I? _Dame. _ There's the letter! _Ash. _ Well, why do ye gi't to I?--I dan't want it, I'm sure. [_Takingit--he turns it over--she eyes it eagerly--he is about to openit. _]--She's coming! she's coming! [_He conceals the letter, theytremble violently. _] No, she's gone into t'other room. [_They hang theirheads dejectedly, then look at each other. _] What mun that feyther anmother be doing, that do blush and tremble at their own dater's coming. [_Weeps. _] Dang it, has she desarv'd it of us--Did she ever deceiveus?--Were she not always the most open hearted, dutifullest, kindest--and thee to goa like a dom'd spy, and open her box, poor thing! _Dame. _ Nay, Tummas---- _Ash. _ You did--I zaw you do it myzel!--you look like a thief, now--youdoe--Hush!--no--Dame--here be the letter--I won't reead a word on't; putit where thee vound it, and as thee vound it. _Dame. _ With all my heart. [_She returns the letter to the box. _ _Ash. _ [_Embraces her. _] Now I can wi' pleasure hug my wold wife, andlook my child in the vace again--I'll call her, and ax her about it; andif she dan't speak without disguisement, I'll be bound to be shot--Dame, be the colour of sheame off my face yet?--I never zeed thee look uglybefore----Susan, my dear Sue, come here a bit, woollye? _Enter_ SUSAN. _Susan. _ Yes, my dear father. _Ash. _ Sue, we do wish to give thee a bit of admonishing and parent-likeconzultation. _Susan. _ I hope I have ever attended to your admonitions. _Ash. _ Ees, bless thee, I do believe thee hast, lamb; but we all wantour memories jogg'd a bit, or why else do parson preach us all to sleepevery Zunday--Zo thic be the topic--Dame and I, Sue, did zee a lettergi'd to thee, and thee--bursted into tears, and lock'd un up in thicbox--and then Dame and I--we--that's all. _Susan. _ My dear father, if I concealed the contents of that letter fromyour knowledge, it was because I did not wish your heart to share in thepain mine feels. _Ash. _ Dang it, didn't I tell thee zoo? [_To his wife. _ _Dame. _ Nay, Tummas, did I say otherwise? _Susan. _ Believe me, my dear parents, my heart never gave birth to athought my tongue feared to utter. _Ash. _ There, the very words I zaid? _Susan. _ If you wish to see the letter, I will shew it to you. [_She searches for the key. _ _Dame. _ Here's a key will open it. _Ash. _ Drabbit it, hold thy tongue, thou wold fool? [_Aside. _] No, Susan. I'll not zee it--I'll believe my child. _Susan. _ You shall not find your confidence ill-placed--it is true thegentleman declared he loved me; it is equally true that declaration wasnot unpleasing to me--Alas! it is also true, that his letter containssentiments disgraceful to himself, and insulting to me. _Ash. _ Drabbit it, if I'd knaw'd that, when we were cudgelling a bit, Iwou'd ha' lapt my stick about his ribs pratty tightish, I wou'd. _Susan. _ Pray, father, don't you resent his conduct to me. _Ash. _ What! mayn't I lather un a bit? _Susan. _ Oh, no! I've the strongest reasons to the contrary! _Ash. _ Well, Sue, I won't--I'll behave as pratty as I always do--but itbe time to go to the green, and zee the fine zights--How I do hate thenoise of thic dom'd bunch of keys--But bless thee, my child--dan'tforget that vartue to a young woman be vor all the worldlike--like--Dang it, I ha' gotten it all in my head; but zomehow--Ican't talk it--but vartue be to a young woman what corn be to a bladeo'wheat, do you zee; for while the corn be there it be glorious to theeye, and it be called the staff of life; but take that treasure away, and what do remain? why nought but thic worthless straw that man andbeast do tread upon. [_Exeunt. _ SCENE IV. _An extensive view of a cultivated country--A ploughed field in thecentre, in which are seen six different ploughs and horses--At one sidea handsome tent--A number of country people assembled. _ _Enter_ ASHFIELD _and_ DAME. _Ash. _ Make way, make way for the gentry! and, do ye hear, behave prattyas I do--Dang thee, stond back, or I'll knack thee down, I wool. _Enter_ SIR ABEL, _and_ MISS BLANDFORD, _with Servants. _ _Sir Abel. _ It is very kind of you to honour our rustic festivities withyour presence. _Miss B. _ Pray, Sir Abel, where is your son? _Sir Abel. _ What! Bob? Oh, you'll see him presently--[_Noddingsignificantly. _]--Here are the prize medals; and if you will condescendto present them, I'm sure they'll be worn with additional pleasure. --Isay, you'll see Bob presently. --Well, Farmer, is it all over? _Ash. _ Ees, zur; the acres be plough'd and the ground judg'd; and theyoung lads be coming down to receive their reward--Heartily welcome, miss, to your native land; hope you be as pleased to zee we as we be tozee you, and the like o'that. --Mortal beautizome to be sure--I declare, miss, it do make I quite warm zomehow to look at ye. [_A shoutwithout. _] They be coming--Now, Henry! _Sir Abel. _ Now you'll see Bob!--now my dear boy, Bob!--here he comes. [_Huzza. _ _Enter_ HENRY _and two young Husbandmen. _ _Ash. _ 'Tis he, he has don't--Dang you all, why dan't ye shout? Huzza! _Sir Abel. _ Why, zounds, where's Bob?--I don't see Bob--Bless me, whathas become of Bob and my plough? [_Retires and takes out his glass. _ _Ash. _ Well, Henry, there be the prize, and there be the fine lady thatwill gi' it thee. _Henry. _ Tell me who is that lovely creature? _Ash. _ The dater of Sir Philip Blandford. _Henry. _ What exquisite sweetness! Ah! should the father but resembleher, I shall have but little to fear from his severity. _Ash. _ Miss, thic be the young man that ha got'n the goulden prize. _Miss B. _ This! I always thought ploughmen were coarse, vulgarcreatures, but he seems handsome and diffident. _Ash. _ Ees, quite pratty behaved--it were I that teach'd un. _Miss B. _ What's your name? _Henry. _ Henry. _Miss B. _ And your family? [HENRY_, in agony of grief, turns away, strikes his forehead, and leanson the shoulder of_ ASHFIELD. ] _Dame. _ [_Apart to_ MISS B. ] Madam, I beg pardon, but nobody knows abouthis parentage; and when it is mentioned, poor boy! he takes on sadly--Hehas lived at our house ever since we had the farm, and we have had anallowance for him--small enough to be sure--but, good lad! he was alwayswelcome to share what we had. _Miss B. _ I am shock'd at my imprudence--[_To_ HENRY. ] Pray pardon me; Iwould not insult an enemy, much less one I am inclined toadmire--[_Giving her hand, then withdraws it. _]--to esteem--you shall goto the Castle--my father shall protect you. _Henry. _ Generous creature! to merit his esteem is the fondest wish ofmy heart--to be your slave, the proudest aim of my ambition. _Miss B. _ Receive your merited reward. [_He kneels--she places the medalround his neck--the same to the others. _] _Sir Abel. _ [_Advances. _] I can't see Bob: pray, sir, do you happen toknow what is become of my Bob? _Henry. _ Sir? _Sir Abel. _ Did not you see a remarkable clever plough, and a youngman---- _Henry. _ At the beginning of the contest I observed a gentleman; hishorses, I believe, were unruly; but my attention was too much occupiedto allow me to notice more. [_Laughing without. _ _Handy, jun. _ [_Without. _] How dare you laugh? _Sir Abel. _ That's Bob's voice! [_Laughing again. _ _Enter_ HANDY, jun. _in a smock frock, cocked hat, and a piece of aplough in his hand. _ _Handy, jun. _ Dare to laugh again, and I'll knock you down withthis!--Ugh! how infernally hot! [_Walks about. _ _Sir Abel. _ Why, Bob, where have you been? _Handy, jun. _ I don't know where I've been. _Sir Abel. _ And what have you got in your hand? _Handy, jun. _ What! All I could keep of your nonsensical rickettyplough. [_Walks about_, SIR ABEL _following. _ _Sir Abel. _ Come, none of that, sir. --Don't abuse my plough, to coveryour ignorance, sir? where is it, sir? and where are my famousLeicestershire horses, sir? _Handy, jun. _ Where? ha, ha, ha! I'll tell you as nearly as I can, ha, ha! What's the name of the next county? _Ash. _ It be called Wiltshire, zur. _Handy, jun. _ Then, dad, upon the nicest calculation I am able to make, they are at this moment engaged in the very patriotic act of ploughingSalisbury plain, ha ha! I saw them fairly over that hill, full gallop, with the curricle plough at their heels. _Ash. _ Ha, ha! a good one, ha ha! _Handy, jun. _ But never mind, father, you must again set your inventionto work, and I my toilet:--rather a deranged figure to appear before alady in. [_Fiddles. _] Hey day! What! are you going to dance? _Ash. _ Ees, zur; I suppose you can sheake a leg a bit? _Handy, jun. _ I fancy I can dance every possible step, from the _pasruse_ to the war-dance of the Catawbaws. _Ash. _ Likely. --I do hope, miss, you'll join your honest neighbours;they'll be deadly hurt an' you won't gig it a bit wi' un. _Miss B. _ With all my heart. _Sir Abel. _ Bob's an excellent dancer. _Miss B. _ I dare say he is, sir? but on this occasion, I think I oughtto dance with the young man, who gained the prize--I think it would bemost pleasant--most proper, I mean; and I am glad you agree withme. --So, sir, if you'll accept my hand-- [HENRY _takes it. _ _Sir Abel. _ Very pleasantly settled, upon my soul!--Bob, won't youdance? _Handy, jun. _ I dance!--no, I'll look at them--I'll quietly look on. _Sir Abel. _ Egad now, as my wife's away, I'll try to find a pretty girl, and make one among them. _Ash. _ That's hearty!--Come, Dame, hang the rheumatics!--Now, lads andlasses, behave pratty, and strike up. [_A dance. _ [HANDY, jun. _looks on a little, and then begins to move his legs--thendashes into the midst of the dance, and endeavours to imitate every oneopposite to him; then being exhausted, he leaves the dance, seizes thefiddle, and plays 'till the curtain drops. _] ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. _An Apartment in the Castle. _ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD _discovered on a couch, reading_, SERVANTS_attending. _ _Sir Philip. _ Is not my daughter yet returned? _Serv. _ No, Sir Philip. _Sir Philip. _ Dispatch a servant to her. [_Exit_ SERVANT. _Re-enter_ SERVANT. _Serv. _ Sir, the old gardener is below, and asks to see you. _Sir Philip. _ [_Rises and throws away the book. _] Admit him instantly, and leave me. -- [_Exit_ SERVANT. _Enter_ EVERGREEN, _who bows, then looking at_ SIR PHILIP, _clasps hishands together, and weeps. _ Does this desolation affect the old man?--Come near me--Time has laid alenient hand on thee. _Everg. _ Oh, my dear master! can twenty years have wrought the change Isee? _Sir Philip. _ No; [_Striking his breast. _] 'tis the canker here thathath withered up my trunk;--but are we secure from observation? _Everg. _ Yes. _Sir Philip. _ Then tell me, does the boy live? _Everg. _ He does, and is as fine a youth-- _Sir Philip. _ No comments. _Everg. _ We named him-- _Sir Philip. _ Be dumb! let me not hear his name. Has care been taken hemay not blast me with his presence? _Everg. _ It has, and he cheerfully complied. _Sir Philip. _ Enough! never speak of him more. Have you removed everydreadful vestige from the fatal chamber? [EVERGREEN _hesitates. _]--Ospeak! _Everg. _ My dear master! I confess my want of duty. Alas! I had notcourage to go there. _Sir Philip. _ Ah! _Everg. _ Nay, forgive me! wiser than I have felt such terrors. --Theapartments have been carefully locked up; the keys not a moment from mypossession:--here they are. _Sir Philip. _ Then the task remains with me. Dreadful thought! I canwell pardon thy fears, old man. --O! could I wipe from my memory thathour, when-- _Everg. _ Hush! your daughter. _Sir Philip. _ Leave me--we'll speak anon. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN. _Enter_ MISS BLANDFORD. _Miss B. _ Dear father! I came the moment I heard you wished to see me. _Sir Philip. _ My good child, thou art the sole support that props myfeeble life. I fear my wish for thy company deprives thee of muchpleasure. _Miss B. _ Oh no! what pleasure can be equal to that of giving youhappiness? Am I not rewarded in seeing your eyes beam with pleasure onme? _Sir Philip. _ 'Tis the pale reflection of the lustre I see sparklingthere. --But, tell me, did your lover gain the prize? _Miss B. _ Yes, papa. _Sir Philip. _ Few men of his rank-- _Miss B. _ Oh! you mean Mr. Handy? _Sir Philip. _ Yes. _Miss B. _ No; he did not. _Sir Philip. _ Then, whom did _you_ mean? _Miss B. _ Did you say lover? I--I mistook. --No--a young man called Henryobtained the prize. _Sir Philip. _ And how did Mr. Handy succeed? _Miss B. _ Oh! It was so ridiculous!--I will tell you, papa, whathappened to him. _Sir Philip. _ To Mr. Handy? _Miss B. _ Yes; as soon as the contest was over Henry presented himself. I was surprised at seeing a young man so handsome and elegant as Henryis. --Then I placed the medal round Henry's neck, and was told, that poorHenry-- _Sir Philip. _ Henry!--So, my love, this is your account of Mr. RobertHandy! _Miss B. _ Yes, papa--no, papa--he came afterwards, dressed soridiculously, that even Henry could not help smiling. _Sir Philip. _ Henry again! _Miss B. _ Then we had a dance. _Sir Philip. _ Of course you danced with your lover? _Miss B. _ Yes, papa. _Sir Philip. _ How does Mr. Handy dance? _Miss B. _ Oh! he did not dance till-- _Sir Philip. _ You danced with your lover? _Miss B. _ Yes--no papa!--Somebody said (I don't know who) that I oughtto dance with Henry, because-- _Sir Philip. _ Still Henry! Oh! some rustic boy. My dear child, you talkas if you loved this Henry. _Miss B. _ Oh! no, papa--and I am certain he don't love me. _Sir Philip. _ Indeed! _Miss B. _ Yes, papa; for, when he touched my hand, he trembled as if Iterrified him; and instead of looking at me as you do, who I am surelove me, when our eyes met, he withdrew his and cast them on the ground. _Sir Philip. _ And these are the reasons, which make you conclude he doesnot love you? _Miss B. _ Yes, papa. _Sir Philip. _ And probably you could adduce proof equally convincingthat you don't love him? _Miss B. _ Oh, yes--quite; for in the dance he sometimes paid attentionto other young women, and I was so angry with him! Now, you know, papa, I love you--and I am sure I should not have been angry with you had youdone so. _Sir Philip. _ But one question more--Do you think Mr. Handy loves you? _Miss B. _ I have never thought about it, papa. _Sir Philip. _ I am satisfied. _Miss B. _ Yes, I knew I should convince you. _Sir Philip. _ Oh, love; malign and subtle tyrant, how falsely art thoupainted blind! 'tis thy votaries are so; for what but blindness canprevent their seeing thy poisoned shaft, which is for ever doomed torankle in the victim's heart. _Miss B. _ Oh! now I am certain I am not in love; for I feel no ranklingat my heart. I feel the softest, sweetest sensation I ever experienced. But, papa, you must come to the lawn. I don't know why, but to-daynature seems enchanting; the birds sing more sweetly, and the flowersgive more perfume. _Sir Philip. _ [_Aside. _] Such was the day my youthful fancypictured!--How did it close! _Miss B. _ I promised Henry your protection. _Sir Philip. _ Indeed! that was much. Well I will see your rustic here. This infant passion must be crushed. Poor wench! some artless boy hascaught thy youthful fancy. --Thy arm, my child. [_Exeunt. _ SCENE II. _A Lawn before the Castle. _ _Enter_ HENRY _and_ ASHFIELD. _Ash. _ Well! here thee'rt going to make thy bow to Sir Philip. I zay, ifhe should take a fancy to thee, thou'lt come to farm, and zee uszometimes, wo'tn't, Henry? _Henry. _ [_Shaking his hand. _] Tell me, is that Sir Philip Blandford, who leans on that lady's arm? _Ash. _ I don't know, by reason, d'ye zee, I never zeed'un. Well, goodbye! I declare thee doz look quite grand with thic golden prize aboutthy neck, vor all the world like the lords in their stars, that do cometo theas pearts to pickle their skins in the zalt zea ocean! Good b'ye, Henry! [_Exit. _ _Henry. _ He approaches! why this agitation? I wish, yet dread, to meethim. _Enter_ SIR PHILIP _and_ MISS BLANDFORD, _attended. _ _Miss B. _ The joy your tenantry display at seeing you again must betruly grateful to you. _Sir Philip. _ No, my child; for I feel I do not merit it. Alas! I cansee no orphans clothed with my beneficence, no anguish assuaged by mycare. _Miss B. _ Then I am sure my dear father wishes to show his kindintentions. So I will begin by placing one under his protection [_Goesup the stage, and leads down_ HENRY. SIR PHILIP, _on seeing him, starts, then becomes greatly agitated. _] _Sir Philip. _ Ah! do my eyes deceive me! No, it must be him! Such wasthe face his father wore. _Henry. _ Spake you of my father? _Sir Philip. _ His presence brings back recollections, which drive me tomadness!--How came he here?--Who have I to curse for this? _Miss B. _ [_Falling on his neck. _] Your daughter. _Henry. _ Oh sir! tell me--on my knees I ask it! do my parents live!Bless me with my father's name, and my days shall pass in activegratitude--my nights in prayers for you. [SIR PHILIP _views him withsevere contempt. _] Do not mock my misery! Have you a heart? _Sir Philip. _ Yes; of marble. Cold and obdurate to the world--ponderousand painful to myself--Quit my sight for ever! _Miss B. _ Go, Henry, and save me from my father's curse. _Henry. _ I obey: cruel as the command is, I obey it--I shall often lookat this, [_Touching the medal. _] and think on the blissful moment, whenyour hand placed it there. _Sir Philip. _ Ah! tear it from his breast. [SERVANT _advances. _ _Henry. _ Sooner take my life! It is the first honour I have earned, andit is no mean one; for it assigns me the first rank among the sons ofindustry! This is my claim to the sweet rewards of honest labour! Thiswill give me competence, nay more, enable me to despise your tyranny! _Sir Philip. _ Rash boy, mark! Avoid me, and be secure. --Repeat thisintrusion, and my vengeance shall pursue thee. _Henry. _ I defy its power!--You are in England, sir, where the man, whobears about him an upright heart, bears a charm too potent for tyrannyto humble. Can your frown wither up my youthful vigour? No!--Can yourmalediction disturb the slumbers of a quiet conscience? No! Can yourbreath stifle in my heart the adoration it feels for that pitying angel?Oh, no! _Sir Philip. _ Wretch! you shall be taught the difference between us! _Henry. _ I feel it now! proudly feel it!--You hate the man, that neverwronged you--I could love the man, that injures me--You meanly triumpho'er a worm--I make a giant tremble. _Sir Philip. _ Take him from my sight! Why am I not obeyed? _Miss B. _ Henry, if you wish my hate should not accompany my father's, instantly begone. _Henry. _ Oh, pity me! [_Exit. _ [MISS BLANDFORD _looks after him_--SIR PHILIP, _exhausted, leans on hisservants. _ _Sir Philip. _ Supported by my servants! I thought I had a daughter! _Miss B. _ [_Running to him. _] O you have, my father! one that loves youbetter than her life! _Sir Philip. _ [_To_ SERVANT. ] Leave us. [_Exit_ SERVANT. Emma, if youfeel, as I fear you do, love for that youth--mark my words! When thedove wooes for its mate the ravenous kite; when nature's fixedantipathies mingle in sweet concord, then, and not till then, hope to beunited. _Miss B. _ O Heaven! _Sir Philip. _ Have you not promised me the disposal of your hand? _Miss B. _ Alas! my father! I didn't then know the difficulty ofobedience! _Sir Philip. _ Hear, then, the reasons why I demand compliance. You thinkI hold these rich estates--Alas, the shadow only, not the substance. _Miss B. _ Explain, my father! _Sir Philip. _ When I left my native country, I left it with a heartlacerated by every wound, that the falsehood of others, or my ownconscience, could inflict. Hateful to myself, I became the victim ofdissipation--I rushed to the gaming table, and soon became the dupe ofvillains. --My ample fortune was lost; I detected one in the act offraud, and having brought him to my feet, he confessed a plan had beenlaid for my ruin; that he was but an humble instrument; for that theman, who, by his superior genius, stood possessed of all the mortgagesand securities I had given, was one Morrington. _Miss B. _ I have heard you name him before. Did you not know thisMorrington? _Sir Philip. _ No; he, like his deeds, avoided the light--Ever dark, subtle, and mysterious. Collecting the scattered remnant of my fortune, I wandered, wretched and desolate, till, in a peaceful village, I firstbeheld thy mother, humble in birth, but exalted in virtue. The morningafter our marriage she received a packet, containing these words: "Thereward of virtuous love, presented by a repentant villain;" and whichalso contained bills and notes to the high amount of ten thousandpounds. _Miss B. _ And no name? _Sir Philip. _ None; nor could I ever guess at the generous donor. I neednot tell thee what my heart suffered, when death deprived me of her. Thus circumstanced, this good man, Sir Abel Handy, proposed to unite ourfamilies by marriage; and in consideration of what he termed the honourof our alliance, agreed to pay off every incumbrance on my estates, andsettle them as a portion on you and his son. Yet still another wonderremains. --When I arrive, I find no claim whatever has been made, eitherby Morrington or his agents. What am I to think? Can Morrington haveperished, and with him his large claims to my property? Or, does hewithhold the blow, to make it fall more heavily? _Miss B. _ 'Tis very strange! very mysterious! But my father has not toldme what misfortune led him to leave his native country. _Sir Philip. _ [_Greatly agitated. _] Ha! _Miss B. _ May I not know it? _Sir Philip. _ Oh, never, never, never! _Miss B. _ I will not ask it--Be composed--Let me wipe away those dropsof anguish from your brow. --How cold your cheek is! My father, theevening damps will harm you--Come in--I will be all you wish--indeed Iwill. [_Exeunt. _ SCENE III. _An Apartment in the Castle. _ _Enter_ EVERGREEN. _Everg. _ Was ever any thing so unlucky! Henry to come to the Castle andmeet Sir Philip! He should have consulted me; I shall be blamed--but, thank Heaven, I am innocent. [SIR ABEL _and_ LADY HANDY _without. _] _Lady H. _ I will be treated with respect. _Sir Abel. _ You shall, my dear. [_They enter. _ _Lady H. _ But how! but how, Sir Abel? I repeat it-- _Sir Philip. _ [_Aside. _] For the fiftieth time. _Lady H. _ Your son conducts himself with an insolence I won't endure;but you are ruled by him, you have no will of your own. _Sir Abel. _ I have not, indeed. _Lady H. _ How contemptible! _Sir Abel. _ Why, my dear, this is the case--I am like the ass in thefable; and if I am doomed to carry a packsaddle, it is not much matterwho drives me. _Lady H. _ To yield your power to those the law allows you to govern!-- _Sir Abel. _ Is very weak, indeed. _Everg. _ Lady Handy, your very humble servant; I heartily congratulateyou, madam, on your marriage with this worthy gentleman--Sir, I give youjoy. _Sir Abel. _ [_Aside. _] Not before 'tis wanted. _Everg. _ Aye, my lady, this match makes up for the imprudence of yourfirst. _Lady H. _ Hem! _Sir Abel. _ Eh! What!--what's that--Eh! what do you mean? _Everg. _ I mean, sir--that Lady Handy's former husband-- _Sir Abel. _ Former husband!--Why, my dear, I never knew--Eh! _Lady H. _ A mumbling old blockhead!--Didn't you, Sir Abel? Yes; I wasrather married many years ago; but my husband went abroad and died. _Sir Abel. _ Died, did he? _Everg. _ Yes, sir, he was a servant in the Castle. _Sir Abel. _ Indeed! So he died--poor fellow! _Lady H. _ Yes. _Sir Abel. _ What, you are sure he died, are you? _Lady H. _ Don't you hear? _Sir Abel. _ Poor fellow! neglected perhaps--had I known it, he shouldhave had the best advice money could have got. _Lady H. _ You seem sorry. _Sir Abel. _ Why, you would not have me pleased at the death of yourhusband, would you?--a good kind of man? _Everg. _ Yes; a faithful fellow--rather ruled his wife too severely. _Sir Abel. _ Did he! [_Apart to_ EVERGREEN. ] Pray do you happen torecollect his manner!--Could you just give a hint of the way he had? _Lady H. _ Do you want to tyrannize over my poor tender heart?--'Tis toomuch! _Everg. _ Bless me! Lady Handy is ill--Salts! salts! _Sir Abel. _ [_Producing an essence box. _] Here are salts, or aromaticvinegar, or essence of-- _Everg. _ Any--any. _Sir Abel. _ Bless me, I can't find the key! _Everg. _ Pick the lock. _Sir Abel. _ It can't be picked, it is a patent lock. _Everg. _ Then break it open, sir. _Sir Abel. _ It can't be broke open--it is a contrivance of my own--yousee, here comes a horizontal bolt, which acts upon a spring, therefore-- _Lady H. _ I may die, while you are describing a horizontal bolt. Do youthink you shall close your eyes for a week for this? _Enter_ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD. _Sir Philip. _ What has occasioned this disturbance? _Lady H. _ Ask that gentleman. _Sir Abel. _ Sir, I am accused-- _Lady H. _ Convicted! convicted! _Sir Abel. _ Well, I will not argue with you about words--because I mustbow to your superior practice--But, Sir-- _Sir Philip. _ Pshaw! [_Apart. _] Lady Handy, some of your people wereinquiring for you. _Lady H. _ Thank you, sir. Come, Sir Abel. [_Exit. _ _Sir Abel. _ Yes, my lady--I say [_To_ EVERGREEN. ] cou'dn't you give me ahint of the way he had-- _Lady H. _ [_Without. _] Sir Abel! _Sir Abel. _ Coming, my soul! [_Exit. _ _Sir Philip. _ So! you have well obeyed my orders in keeping this Henryfrom my presence. _Everg. _ I was not to blame, master. _Sir Philip. _ Has Farmer Ashfield left the Castle? _Everg. _ No, sir. _Sir Philip. _ Send him hither. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN. ] That boy must bedriven far, far from my sight--but where?--no matter! the world is largeenough. _Enter_ ASHFIELD. --Come hither. I believe you hold a farm of mine. _Ash. _ Ees, zur, I do, at your zarvice. _Sir Philip. _ I hope a profitable one? _Ash. _ Zometimes it be, zur. But thic year it be all t'other way as'twur--but I do hope, as our landlords have a tightish big lump of thegood, they'll be zo kind hearted as to take a little bit of the bad. _Sir Philip. _ It is but reasonable--I conclude then you are in my debt. _Ash. _ Ees, zur, I be--at your zarvice. _Sir Philip. _ How much? _Ash. _ I do owe ye a hundred and fifty pounds--at your zarvice. _Sir Philip. _ Which you can't pay? _Ash. _ Not a varthing, zur--at your zarvice. _Sir Philip. _ Well, I am willing to give you every indulgence. _Ash. _ Be you, zur? that be deadly kind. Dear heart! it will make myauld dame quite young again, and I don't think helping a poor man willdo your honour's health any harm--I don't indeed, zur--I had a thoughtof speaking to your worship about it--but then, thinks I, the gentleman, mayhap, be one of those that do like to do a good turn, and not have aword zaid about it--zo, zur, if you had not mentioned what I owed you, Iam zure I never should--should not, indeed, zur. _Sir Philip. _ Nay, I will wholly acquit you of the debt, on condition-- _Ash. _ Ees, zur. _Sir Philip. _ On condition, I say, you instantly turn out that boy--thatHenry. _Ash. _ Turn out Henry!--Ha, ha, ha! Excuse my tittering, zur; but youbees making your vun of I, zure. _Sir Philip. _ I am not apt to trifle--send him instantly from you, ortake the consequences. _Ash. _ Turn out Henry! I do vow I shou'dn't knaw how to zet about it--Ishould not, indeed, zur. _Sir Philip. _ You hear my determination. If you disobey, you know whatwill follow--I'll leave you to reflect on it. [_Exit. _ _Ash. _ Well, zur, I'll argufy the topic, and then you may wait upon me, and I'll tell ye. [_Makes the motion of turning out. _]--I shou'd bedeadly awkward at it, vor zartain--however, I'll put the case--Well! Igoes whiztling whoam--noa, drabbit it! I shou'dn't be able to whiztle abit, I'm zure. Well! I goas whoam, and I zees Henry zitting by my wife, mixing up someit to comfort the wold zoul, and take away the pain of herrheumatics--Very well! Then Henry places a chair vor I by the vire zide, and says---"Varmer, the horses be fed, the sheep be folded, and you havenothing to do but to zit down, smoke your pipe, and be happy!" Verywell! [_Becomes affected. _] Then I zays--"Henry, you be poor andfriendless, zo you must turn out of my houze directly. " Very well! thenmy wife stares at I--reaches her hand towards the vire place, and throwsthe poker at my head. Very well! then Henry gives a kind of aguishshake, and getting up, sighs from the bottom of his heart--then holdingup his head like a king, zays--"Varmer, I have too long been a burden toyou--Heaven protect you, as you have me--Farewell! I go. " Then I says, "If thee doez I'll be domn'd!" [_With great energy. _] Hollo! you MisterSir Philip! you may come in. -- _Enter_ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD. Zur, I have argufied the topic, and it wou'dn't be pratty--zo I can't. _Sir Philip. _ Can't! absurd! _Ash. _ Well, zur, there is but another word--I wont. _Sir Philip. _ Indeed! _Ash. _ No, zur, I won't--I'd zee myself hang'd first, and you too, zur--I wou'd indeed. [_Bowing. _ _Sir Philip. _ You refuse then to obey. _Ash. _ I do, zur--at your zarvice. [_Bowing. _ _Sir Philip. _ Then the law must take its course. _Ash. _ I be zorry for that too--I be, indeed, zur, but if corn wou'dn'tgrow I cou'dn't help it; it wer'n't poison'd by the hand that zow'd it. Thic hand, zur, be as free from guilt as your own. _Sir Philip. _ Oh! [_Sighing deeply. _ _Ash. _ It were never held out to clinch a hard bargain, nor will it turna good lad out into the wide wicked world, because he be poorish a bit. I be zorry you be offended, zur, quite--but come what wool, I'll neverhit thic hand against here, but when I be zure that zumeit at insidewill jump against it with pleasure. [_Bowing. _] I do hope you'll repentof all your zins--I do, indeed, zur; and if you shou'd, I'll come andzee you again as friendly as ever--I wool, indeed, zur. _Sir Philip. _ Your repentance will come too late. [_Exit. _ _Ash. _ Thank ye, zur--Good morning to you--I do hope I have made myzelagreeable--and so I'll go whoam. [_Exit. _ ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. _A room in_ ASHFIELD'S _House. _ _Dame_ ASHFIELD _discovered at work with her needle, _ HENRY _sitting byher. _ _Dame. _ Come, come, Henry, you'll fret yourself ill, child. If SirPhilip will not be kind to you, you are but where you were. _Henry. _ [_Rising. _] My peace of mind is gone for ever. Sir Philip mayhave cause for hate;--spite of his unkindness to me, my heart seeks tofind excuses for him--oh! that heart doats on his lovely daughter. _Dame. _ [_Looking out. _] Here comes Tummas home at last. Heyday what'sthe matter with the man! He doesn't seem to know the way into his ownhouse. _Enter_ ASHFIELD, _musing, he stumbles against a chair. _ Tummas, my dear Tummas, what's the matter? _Ash. _ [_Not attending. _] It be lucky vor he I be's zoo pratty behaved, or dom if I-- [_Doubling his fist. _ _Dame. _ Who--what? _Ash. _ Nothing at all; where's Henry? _Henry. _ Here, farmer. _Ash. _ Thee woultn't leave us, Henry, wou't? _Henry. _ Leave you! What, leave you now, when by my exertion I can payoff part of the debt of gratitude I owe you? oh, no! _Ash. _ Nay, it were not vor that I axed, I promise thee; come, gi'us thyhand on't then. [_Shaking hands. _] Now, I'll tell ye. Zur Philip didsend vor I about the money I do owe 'un; and said as how he'd make allstraight between us---- _Dame. _ That was kind. _Ash. _ Ees, deadly kind. Make all straight on condition I did turn Henryout o'my doors. _Dame. _ What! _Henry. _ Where will his hatred cease? _Dame. _ And what did you say, Tummas? _Ash. _ Why I zivelly tould un, if it were agreeable to he to behave likea brute, it were agreeable to I to behave like a man. _Dame. _ That was right. I wou'd have told him a great deal more. _Ash. _ Ah! likely. Then a' zaid I shou'd ha' a bit a laa vor my pains. _Henry. _ And do you imagine I will see you suffer on my account? No--Iwill remove this hated form---- [_Going. _] _Ash. _ No, but thee shat'un--thee shat'un--I tell thee. Thee have givunme thy hand on't, and dom'me if thee sha't budge one step out of thishouse. Drabbit it! what can he do? he can't send us to jail. Why, I havecorn will zell for half the money I do owe'un--and han't I cattle andsheep? deadly lean to be zure--and han't I a thumping zilver watch, almost as big as thy head? and Dame here a got----How many silk gownshave thee got, dame! _Dame. _ Three, Tummas--and sell them all--and I'll go to church in astuff one--and let Mrs. Grundy turn up her nose as much as she pleases. _Henry. _ Oh, my friends, my heart is full. Yet a day will come, whenthis heart will prove its gratitude. _Dame. _ That day, Henry, is every day. _Ash. _ Dang it! never be down hearted. I do know as well as can be, zomegood luck will turn up. All the way I comed whoam I looked to vind apurse in the path. But I didn't though. [_A knocking at the door. _] _Dame. _ Ah! here they are, coming to sell I suppose-- _Ash. _ Lettun--lettun zeize and zell; we ha gotten here [_Striking hisbreast. _] what we won't zell, and they can't zell. [_Knocking again. _]Come in--dang it, don't ye be shy. _Enter_ MORRINGTON _and_ GERALD. _Henry. _ Ah! the strangers I saw this morning. These are not officers oflaw. _Ash. _ Noa!--Walk in, gemmen. Glad to zee ye wi' all my heart and zoul. Come, dame, spread a cloth, bring out cold meat, and a mug of beer. _Gerald. _ [_To_ MORRINGTON. ] That is the boy. [MORRINGTON _nods. _] _Ash. _ Take a chair, zur. _Mor. _ I thank, and admire your hospitality. Don't trouble yourself, good woman. --I am not inclined to eat. _Ash. _ That be the case here. To-day none o'we be auver hungry:misfortin be apt to stay the stomach confoundedly-- _Mor. _ Has misfortune reached this humble dwelling? _Ash. _ Ees, zur. I do think vor my part it do work its way in everywhere. _Mor. _ Well, never despair. _Ash. _ I never do, zur. It is not my way. When the sun do shine I neverthink of voul weather, not I; and when it do begin to rain, I alwaysthink that's a zure zign it will give auver. _Mor. _ Is that young man your son? _Ash. _ No, zur--I do wish he were wi' all my heart and zoul. _Gerald. _ [_To_ MORRINGTON. ] Sir, remember. _Mor. _ Doubt not my prudence. Young man, your appearance interestsme;--how can I serve you? _Henry. _ By informing me who are my parents. _Mor. _ That I cannot do. _Henry. _ Then, by removing from me the hatred of Sir Philip Blandford. _Mor. _ Does Sir Philip hate you? _Henry. _ With such severity, that even now he is about to ruin theseworthy creatures, because they have protected me. _Mor. _ Indeed! misfortune has made him cruel. That should not be. _Ash. _ Noa, it should not, indeed, zur. _Mor. _ It shall not be. _Ash. _ Shan't it, zur? But how shan't it? _Mor. _ I will prevent it. _Ash. _ Wool ye faith, and troth? Now, dame, did not I zay zome good luckwould turn up? _Henry. _ Oh, sir, did I hear you rightly? Will you preserve myfriends?--will you avert the cruel arm of power, and make the virtuoushappy? my tears must thank you. [_Taking his hand. _ _Mor. _ [_Disengaging his hand. _] Young man, you oppress me--forbear! Ido not merit thanks--pay your gratitude where you are sure 'tis due--toHeaven. Observe me--here is a bond of Sir Philip Blandford's for1000_l_. --do you present it to him, and obtain a discharge for the debtof this worthy man. The rest is at your own disposal--no thanks. _Henry. _ But, sir, to whom am I thus highly indebted? _Mor. _ My name is Morrington. At present that information must suffice. _Henry. _ Morrington. _Ash. _ [_Bowing. _] Zur, if I may be so bold-- _Mor. _ Nay, friend---- _Ash. _ Don't be angry, I hadn't thanked you, zur, nor I won't. --Only, zur, I were going to ax, when you wou'd call again. You shall have mystamp note vor the money, you shall, indeed, zur. And in the mean time, I do hope you'll take zomeit in way of remembrance as 'twere. _Dame. _ Will your honour put a couple of turkies in your pocket? _Ash. _ Or pop a ham under your arm? don't ye zay no, if it's agreeable. _Mor. _ Farewell, good friends, I shall repeat my visit soon. _Dame. _ The sooner the better. _Ash. _ Good bye to ye, zur, --Dame and I wool go to work as merry ascrickets. Good bye, Henry. _Dame. _ Heaven bless your honour--and I hope you will carry as much joyaway with you, as you leave behind you--I do indeed. [_Exeunt_ ASHFIELD _and Dame. _ _Mor. _ Young man, proceed to the Castle, and demand an audience of SirPhilip Blandford. In your way thither, I'll instruct you further. --Giveme your hand. [_Exeunt_ MORRINGTON, _looking stedfastly_ _on_ HENRY, GERALD _following. _ SCENE II. _An Apartment in the Castle. _ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD _discovered_--MISS BLANDFORD _reading. _ _Miss B. _ Shall I proceed to the next essay? _Sir Philip. _ What does it treat of? _Miss B. _ Love and friendship. _Sir Philip. _ A satire? _Miss B. _ No, father;--an eulogy. Sir _Philip. _ Thus do we find, in the imaginations of men, what we invain look for in their hearts. --Lay it by. [_A knocking at the door. _]Come in-- _Enter_ EVERGREEN. _Everg. _ My dear master, I am a petitioner to you. _Sir Philip. _ [_Rises. _] None possesses a better claim to myfavour--ask, and receive. _Everg. _ I thank you, sir. The unhappy Henry-- _Miss B. _ What of him? _Sir Philip. _ Emma, go to your apartment. _Miss B. _ Poor Henry! _Sir Philip. _ Imprudent man! _Everg. _ [SIR PHILIP _turns from hint with resentment. _] Nay, be notangry; he is without, and entreats to be admitted. _Sir Philip. _ I cannot, will not, again behold him. _Everg. _ I am sorry you refuse me, as it compels me to repeat his words:"If, " said he, "Sir Philip denies my humble request, tell him, I demandto see him. " _Sir Philip. _ Demand to see me! well, his _high_ command shall be obeyedthen [_Sarcastically_]. Bid him approach. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN. _Enter_ HENRY. _Sir Philip. _ By what title, sir, do you thus intrude on me? _Henry. _ By one of an imperious nature, the title of a creditor. _Sir Philip. _ I _your_ debtor! _Henry. _ Yes; for you owe me justice. You, perhaps, withhold from me theinestimable treasure of a parent's blessing. _Sir Philip. _ [_Impatiently. _] To the business that brought you hither. _Henry. _ Thus then--I believe this is your signature. [_Producing a bond. _ _Sir Philip. _ Ah! [_Recovering himself. _] it is-- _Henry. _ Affixed to a bond of 1000_l_. Which, by assignment, is mine. Byvirtue of this I discharge the debt of your worthy tenant Ashfield! who, it seems, was guilty of the crime of vindicating the injured, andprotecting the unfortunate. Now, Sir Philip, the retribution my hatedemands is, that what remains of this obligation may not be now paid tome, but wait your entire convenience and leisure. _Sir Philip. _ No! that must not be. _Henry. _ Oh, sir! why thus oppress an innocent man?--why spurn from youa heart, that pants to serve you? No answer, farewell. [_Going. _ _Sir Philip. _ Hold--one word before we part--tell me--I dread to ask it[_Aside. _]--How came you possessed of this bond? _Henry. _ A stranger, whose kind benevolence stepped in and saved-- _Sir Philip. _ His name? _Henry. _ Morrington. _Sir Philip. _ Fiend! tormenter! has he caught me!--You have seen thisMorrington? _Henry. _ Yes. _Sir Philip. _ Did he speak of me? _Henry. _ He did--and of your daughter. "Conjure him, " said he, "not tosacrifice the lovely Emma, by a marriage her heart revolts at. Tell him, the life and fortune of a parent are not his own; he holds them but intrust for his offspring. Bid him reflect, that, while his daughtermerits the brightest rewards a father can bestow, she is by that fatherdoomed to the harshest fate tyranny can inflict. " _Sir Philip. _ Torture! [_With vehemence. _] Did he say who caused thissacrifice? _Henry. _ He told me you had been duped of your fortune by sharpers. _Sir Philip. _ Aye, he knows that well. Young man, mark me:--ThisMorrington, whose precepts wear the face of virtue, and whose practiceseems benevolence, was the chief of the hellish banditti that ruined me. _Henry. _ Is it possible? _Sir Philip. _ That bond you hold in your hand was obtained by robbery. _Henry. _ Confusion! _Sir Philip. _ Not by the thief who, encountering you as a man, stakeslife against life, but by that most cowardly villain, who, in the momentwhen reason sleeps, and passion is roused, draws his snares around you, and hugs you to your ruin. _Henry. _ On your soul, is Morrington that man? _Sir Philip. _ On my soul, he is. _Henry. _ Thus, then, I annihilate the act--and thus I tread upon avillain's friendship. [_Tearing the bond. _ _Sir Philip. _ Rash boy! what have you done? _Henry. _ An act of justice to Sir Philip Blandford. _Sir Philip. _ For which you claim my thanks? _Henry. _ Sir, I am thanked already--here. [_Pointing to his heart. _]Curse on such wealth! compared with its possession, poverty issplendour. Fear not for me--I shall not feel the piercing cold; for inthat man, whose heart beats warmly for his fellow creatures, the bloodcirculates with freedom--My food shall be what few of the pampered sonsof greatness can boast of, the luscious bread of independence; and theopiate, that brings me sleep, will be the recollection of the day passedin innocence. _Sir Philip. _ Noble boy!--Oh Blandford! _Henry. _ Ah! _Sir Philip. _ What have I said? _Henry. _ You called me Blandford. _Sir Philip. _ 'Twas error--'twas madness. _Henry. _ Blandford! a thousand hopes and fears rush on my heart. Disclose to me my birth--be it what it may, I am your slave for ever. Refuse me, you create a foe, firm and implacable as---- _Sir Philip. _ Ah! am I threatened? Do not extinguish the spark of pitymy breast is warmed with. _Henry. _ I will not. Oh! forgive me. _Sir Philip. _ Yes, on one condition--leave me. --Ah! some one approaches. Begone, I insist--I entreat. _Henry. _ That word has charmed me! I obey: Sir Philip, you may hate, butyou shall respect, me. [_Exit. _ _Enter_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Handy, jun. _ At last, thank Heaven, I have found somebody. But, SirPhilip, were you indulging in soliloquy?--You seem agitated. _Sir Philip. _ No, sir; rather indisposed. _Handy, jun. _ Upon my soul, I am devilish glad to find you. Comparedwith this castle, the Cretan labyrinth was intelligible; and unless somekind Ariadne gives me a clue, I shan't have the pleasure of seeing youabove once a-week. _Sir Philip. _ I beg your pardon, I have been an inattentive host. _Handy, jun. _ Oh, no; but when a house is so devilish large, and theparty so very small, they ought to keep together; for, to say the truth, though no one on earth feels a warmer regard for Robert Handy than Ido--I soon get heartily sick of his company--whatever he may be toothers, he's a cursed bore to me. _Sir Philip. _ Where's your worthy father? _Handy, jun. _ As usual, full of contrivances that are impracticable, andimprovements that are retrograde; forming, altogether, a whimsicalinstance of the confusion of arrangement, the delay of expedition, theincommodiousness of accommodation, and the infernal trouble ofendeavouring to save it--he has now a score or two of workmen about him, and intends pulling down some apartments in the east wing of the Castle. _Sir Philip. _ Ah! ruin!--Within there!--Fly to Sir Abel Handy--Tell himto desist! order his people, on the peril of their lives, to leave theCastle instantly! Away! _Handy, jun. _ Sir Philip Blandford, your conduct compels me to beserious. _Sir Philip. _ Oh, forbear! forbear! _Handy, jun. _ Excuse me, sir, --an alliance, it seems, is intendedbetween our families, founded on ambition and interest. I wish it, sir, to be formed on a nobler basis, ingenuous friendship and mutualconfidence. That confidence being withheld, I must here pause; for Ishould hesitate in calling that man father, who refuses me the name offriend. _Sir Philip. _ [_Aside. _] Ah! how shall I act? _Handy, jun. _ Is my demand unreasonable? _Sir Philip. _ Strictly just--But oh!--you know not what you ask--Do younot pity me? _Handy, jun. _ I do. _Sir Philip. _ Why then seek to change it into hate? _Handy, jun. _ Confidence seldom generates hate--Mistrust always. _Sir Philip. _ Most true. _Handy, jun. _ I am not impelled by curiosity to ask your friendship. Iscorn so mean a motive. Believe me, sir, the folly and levity of mycharacter proceed merely from the effervescence of my heart--you willfind its substance warm, steady, and sincere. _Sir Philip. _ I believe it from my soul. --Yes, you shall hear my story;I will lay before your view the agony, with which this wretched bosom isloaded. _Handy, jun. _ I am proud of your confidence, and am prepared to receiveit. _Sir Philip. _ Not here--let me lead you to the eastern part of thecastle, my young friend--mark me: This is no common trust I repose inyou; for I place my life in your hands. _Handy, jun. _ And the pledge I give for its security is, what alonegives value to life, my honour. [_Exeunt. _ SCENE III. _A gloomy Gallery in the Castle--in the centre a strongly barreddoor. --The gallery hung with portraits. _ HENRY _discovered examining a particular portrait, which occupies aconspicuous situation in the gallery. _ _Henry. _ Whenever curiosity has led me to this gallery, that portraithas attracted my attention--the features are peculiarly interesting. Oneof the house of Blandford--Blandford---my name--perhaps my father. Toremain longer ignorant of my birth, I feel impossible. There is a pointwhen patience ceases to be a virtue--Hush! I hear footsteps--Ah! SirPhilip and another in close conversation. Shall I avoid them?--No--ShallI conceal myself, and observe them?--Curse on the base suggestion!--No-- _Enter_ SIR PHILIP _and_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Sir Philip. _ That chamber contains the mystery. _Henry. _ [_Aside. _] Ah! _Sir Philip. _ [_Turning round. _] Observe that portrait. [_Seeing_HENRY--_starts. _] Who's there? _Handy, jun. _ [_To_ HENRY. ] Sir, we wish to be private. _Henry. _ My being here, sir, was merely the effect of accident. I scornintrusion. [_Bows. _] But the important words are spoken--that chambercontains the mystery. [_Aside. --Exit. _ _Handy, jun. _ Who is that youth? _Sir Philip. _ You there behold his father--my brother--[_Weeps. _]--I'venot beheld that face these twenty years. --Let me again peruse itslineaments. [_In an agony of grief. _] Oh, God! how I loved that man!-- _Handy, jun. _ Be composed. _Sir Philip. _ I will endeavour. Now listen to my story. _Handy, jun. _ You rivet my attention. _Sir Philip. _ While we were boys, my father died intestate. So I, aselder born, became the sole possessor of his fortune; but the moment thelaw gave me power, I divided, in equal portions, his large possessions, one of which I with joy presented to my brother. _Handy, jun. _ It was noble. _Sir Philip. _ [_With suppressed agony. _] You shall now hear, sir, how Iwas rewarded. Chance placed in my view a young woman of superiorpersonal charms; my heart was captivated--Fortune she possessed not--butmine was ample. She blessed me by consenting to our union, and mybrother approved my choice. _Handy, jun. _ How enviable your situation! _Sir Philip. _ Oh! [_Sighing deeply. _] On the evening previous to myintended marriage, with a mind serene as the departing sun, whosemorning beam was to light me to happiness, I sauntered to a favouritetree, where, lover-like, I had marked the name of my destined bride, and, with every nerve braced to the tone of ecstasy, I was wounding thebark with a deeper impression of the name--when, oh, God!---- _Handy, jun. _ Pray proceed. _Sir Philip. _ When the loved offspring of my mother, and the woman mysoul adored--the only two beings on earth, who had wound themselvesround my heart by every tie dear to the soul of man, placed themselvesbefore me; I heard him--even now the sound is in my ears, and drives meto madness--I heard him breathe vows of love, which she answered withburning kisses--He pitied his poor brother, and told her he had prepareda vessel to bear her for ever from me. --They were about to depart, whenthe burning fever in my heart rushed upon my brain--Picture the youngtiger, when first his savage nature rouses him to vengeance--the knifewas in my gripe--I sprang upon them--with one hand I tore the faithlesswoman from his damned embrace, and with the other--stabbed my brother tothe heart. _Handy, jun. _ The wretched woman---- _Sir Philip. _ Was secretly conveyed here--even to that chamber. --Sheproved pregnant, and in giving birth to a son, paid the forfeit of herperjury by death. My task being ended, yours begins. _Handy, jun. _ Mine! _Sir Philip. _ Yes, that chamber contains evidence of my shame; the fatalinstrument, with other guilty proofs, lie there concealed--can youwonder I dread to visit the scene of horror--can you wonder I imploreyou, in mercy, to save me from the task? Oh! my friend, enter thechamber, bury in endless night those instruments of blood, and I willkneel and worship you. _Handy, jun. _ I will. _Sir Philip. _ [_Weeps. _] Will you? [_Embraces him. _] I am unused tokindness from man, and it affects me. Oh! can you press to yourguiltless heart that bloodstained hand! _Handy, jun. _ Sir Philip, let men without faults condemn--I must pityyou. [_Exeunt_ HANDY, jun. _leading_ SIR PHILIP. ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I. _A wooded view of the country. _ _Enter_ SUSAN ASHFIELD, _who looks about with anxiety, and then comesforward. _ _Susan. _ I fear my conduct is very imprudent. --Has not Mr. Handy told mehe is engaged to another? But 'tis hard for the heart to forego, withoutone struggle, its only hope of happiness; and, conscious of my honour, what have I to fear? Perhaps he may repent of his unkindness to me--atleast I'll put his passion to the proof; if he be worthy of my love, happiness is for ever mine; if not, I'll tear him from my breast, thoughfrom the wound my life's blood should follow. Ah! he comes--I feel I ama coward, and my poor alarmed heart trembles at its approachingtrial--pardon me, female delicacy, if for a moment I seem to pass thysacred limits. [_Retires up the stage. _ _Enter_ HANDY, _jun. _ _Handy, jun. _ By Heavens! the misfortunes of Sir Philip Blandford weighso heavily on my spirits, that--but confusion to melancholy! I am comehere to meet an angel, who will, in a moment, drive away the blue devilslike mist before the sun. Let me again read the dear words; [_Reading aletter. _] "I confess, I love you still;" [_Kisses the letter. _] but Idare not believe their truth till her sweet lips confirm it. Ah! she'sthere--Susan, my angel! a thousand thanks. A life of love can alonerepay the joy your letter gave me. _Susan. _ Do you not despise me? _Handy, jun. _ No; love you more than ever. _Susan. _ Oh! Robert, this is the very crisis of my fate. ----From thismoment we meet with honour, or we meet no more. If we must part, perhaps, when you lead your happy bride to church, you may stumble overyour Susan's grave. Well, be it so. _Handy, jun. _ Away with such sombre thoughts! _Susan. _ Tell me my doom--yet hold--you are wild, impetuous--you do notgive your heart fair play--therefore promise me (perhaps 'tis the lastfavour I shall ask), that before you determine whether our love shalldie or live with honour, you will remain here alone a few moments, andthat you will give those moments to reflection. _Handy, jun. _ I do--I will. _Susan. _ With a throbbing heart I will wait at a little distance. Mayvirtuous love and sacred honour direct his thoughts! [_Aside. --Exit. _ _Handy, jun. _ Yes, I will reflect, that I am the most fortunate fellowin England. She loves me still--what is the consequence?--that love willtriumph--that she will be mine--mine without the degradation ofmarriage--love, pride, all gratified--how I shall be envied when Itriumphantly pass the circles of fashion! One will cry, "Who is thatangel?"--another, "Happy fellow!" then Susan will smile around--will shesmile? oh yes--she will be all gaiety--mingle with the votaries ofpleasure, and--what! Susan Ashfield the companion of licentiouswomen!--Damnation!--no! I wrong her--she would not--she would rathershun society--she would be melancholy--melancholy! [_Sighs, and looks athis watch. _]--would the time were over!--Pshaw! I think of it tooseriously--'Tis false--I do not. --Should her virtue yield to love, wouldnot remorse affect her health? should I not behold that lovely formsicken and decay--perhaps die?--die! then what am I?--a villain, loadedwith her parents' curses and my own. --Let me fly from the dreadfulthought. --But how fly from it?--[_Calmly. _]--By placing before myimagination a picture of more honourable lineaments. --I make her mywife. --Ah! then she would smile on me--there's rapture in thethought;--instead of vice producing decay, I behold virtue emblazoningbeauty; instead of Susan on the bed of death, I behold her giving to myhopes a dear pledge of our mutual love. She places it in my arms--downher father's honest face runs a tear--but 'tis the tear of joy. Oh, thiswill be luxury! paradise!--Come, Susan!--come, my love, my soul--my_wife_. _Enter_ SUSAN--_she at first hesitates--on hearing the word_ wife, _shesprings into his arms. _ _Susan. _ Is it possible? _Handy, jun. _ Yes, those charms have conquered. _Susan. _ Oh! no; do not so disgrace the victory you have gained--'tisyour own virtue that has triumphed. _Handy, jun. _ My Susan! how true it is that fools alone are vicious. Butlet us fly to my father, and obtain his consent. On recollection, thatmay not be quite so easy. His arrangements with Sir Philip Blandfordare--are--not mine, so there's an end of that. And Sir Philip, bymisfortune, knows how to appreciate happiness. Then poor MissBlandford--upon my soul I feel for her. _Susan. _ [_Ironically. _] Come, don't make yourself miserable. If mysuspicions be true, she'll not break her heart for your loss. _Handy, jun. _ Nay, don't say so; she will be unhappy. _Ash. _ [_Without. _] There he is. Dame, shall I shoot at un? _Dame. _ No. _Susan. _ My father's voice. _Ash. _ Then I'll leather un wi' my stick. _Enter_ ASHFIELD _and_ DAME. _Ash. _ What do thee do here with my Sue, eh? _Handy, jun. _ With your Sue!--she's mine--mine by a husband's right. _Ash. _ Husband! what, thee Sue's husband? _Handy, jun. _ I soon shall be. _Ash. _ But how tho'?--What! faith and troth?--What! like as I marriedDame? _Handy, jun. _ Yes. _Ash. _ What! axed three times! _Handy, jun. _ Yes; and from this moment I'll maintain, that the realtemple of love is a parish church--Cupid is a chubby curate--his torchis the sexton's lantern--and the according pæan of the spheres is theprofound nasal thorough bass of the clerk's Amen. _Ash. _ Huzza! only to think now--my blessing go with you, my children! _Dame. _ And mine. _Ash. _ And Heaven's blessing too. Ecod, I believe now, as thy feytherzays, thee canst do every thing! _Handy, jun. _ No; for there is one thing I cannot do--injure theinnocence of woman. _Ash. _ Drabbit it! I shall walk in the road all day to zee Sue ride byin her own coach. _Susan. _ You must ride with me, father. _Dame. _ I say, Tummas, what will Mrs. Grundy say then? _Ash. _ I do hope thee will not be asham'd of thy feyther in laa, woolye? _Handy, jun. _ No; for then I must also be ashamed of myself, which I amresolved not to be again. _Enter_ SIR ABEL HANDY. _Sir Abel. _ Heyday, Bob! why an't you gallanting your intended bride?but you are never where you ought to be. _Handy, jun. _ Nay, sir, by your own confession I _am_ where I ought tobe. _Sir Abel. _ No! you ought to be at the Castle--Sir Philip is there, andMiss Blandford is there, and Lady Handy is there, and therefore-- _Handy, jun. _ You are _not_ there. In one word, I shall not marry MissBlandford. _Sir Abel. _ Indeed! who told you so? _Handy, jun. _ One who never lies--and, therefore, one I am determined tomake a friend of--my conscience. _Sir Abel. _ But zounds! sir, what excuse have you? _Handy, jun. _ [_Taking_ SUSAN'S _hand. _] A very fair one, sir--is notshe? _Sir Abel. _ Why, yes, sir, I can't deny it--but, 'sdeath, sir, thisoverturns my best plan! _Handy, jun. _ No, sir; for a parent's best plan is his son's happiness, and that it will establish. Come, give us your consent. Consider how weadmire all your wonderful inventions. _Sir Abel. _ No, not my plough, Bob--but 'tis a devilish clever plough. _Handy, jun. _ I dare say it is. Come, sir, consent, and perhaps, in ourturn, we may invent something that may please you. _Sir Abel. _ He! he! he! well--but hold--what's the use of my consentwithout my wife's--bless you! I dare no more approve, without-- _Enter_ GERALD. _Gerald. _ Health to this worthy company! _Sir Abel. _ The same to you, sir. _Handy, jun. _ Who have we here, I wonder? _Gerald. _ I wish to speak with Sir Abel Handy. _Sir Abel. _ I am the person. _Gerald. _ You are married? _Sir Abel. _ Damn it! he sees it in my face. --Yes, I have that happiness. _Gerald. _ Is it a happiness? _Sir Abel. _ To say the truth--why do you ask? _Gerald. _ I want answers, not questions--and depend on't 'tis yourinterest to answer me. _Handy, jun. _ An extraordinary fellow this! _Gerald. _ Would it break your heart to part with her! _Sir Abel. _ Who are you, sir, that---- _Gerald. _ Answers--I want answers--would it break your heart, I ask? _Sir Abel. _ Why, not absolutely, I hope. Time, and philosophy, and---- _Gerald. _ I understand--what sum of money wou'd you give to the man, whowould dissolve your marriage contract? _Handy, jun. _ He means something, sir. _Sir Abel. _ Do you think so, Bob? _Gerald. _ Would you give a thousand pounds? _Sir Abel. _ No! _Handy, jun. _ No! _Sir Abel. _ No; I would not give one; but I would give five thousandpounds. _Gerald. _ Generously offered--a bargain--I'll do it. _Sir Abel. _ But, an't you deceiving me? _Gerald. _ What should I gain by that? _Sir Abel. _ Tell me your name? _Gerald. _ Time will tell that. _Lady H. _ [_Without. _] Sir Abel, where are you? _Gerald. _ That's your wife's voice--I know it. _Sir Abel. _ So do I. _Gerald. _ I'll wait without--Cry, "Hem!" when you want me. _Sir Abel. _ Then you need not go far-- [_Exit_ GERALD. I dare not believe it--I should go out of my wits--and then if he fail, what a pickle I shall be in! Here she is. _Enter_ LADY HANDY. _Lady H. _ So, sir, I have found you at last? _Handy, jun. _ My honoured mamma, you have just come in time to give yourconsent to my marriage with my sweet Susan. _Lady H. _ And do you imagine I will agree to such degradation? _Ash. _ Do'e, Lady Nelly, do'e be kind hearted to the youngloviers. --Remember how I used to let thee zit up all night asweethearting. _Lady H. _ Silence! and have you dared to consent? [_To_ SIR ABEL. _Sir Abel. _ Oh, no, my Lady! _Handy, jun. _ Sir, you had better cry--"Hem. " _Sir Abel. _ I think it's time, Bob--Hem! _Handy, jun. _ Hem! _Lady H. _ What do you mean by--Hem! _Sir Abel. _ Only, my dear, something troublesome I want to get ridof--Hem! _Enter_ GERALD. There he is--never was so frightened in all my life. [GERALD _advances. _] _Lady H. _ [_Shrieks and exclaims. _] Gerald! _Gerald. _ Yes. _Lady H. _ An't you dead, Gerald? Twenty years away and not dead? _Gerald. _ No, wife. _Sir Abel. _ Wife! did you say, wife? _Gerald. _ Yes. _Sir Abel. _ Say it again. _Gerald. _ She is my wife. _Sir Abel. _ Once more. _Gerald. _ My lawful, wedded wife. _Sir Abel. _ Oh, my dear fellow!--Oh, my dear boy! Oh, my deargirl!--[_Embraces_ GERALD _and the rest. _] Oh, my dear! [_Running to_MRS. GERALD. ] No--yes, now she an't my wife, I will--well--how will youhave the five thousand? Will you have it in cash, or in bank notes--orstocks, or India bonds, or lands, or patents, or---- _Gerald. _ No--land will do--I wish to kill my own mutton. _Sir Abel. _ Sir, you shall kill all the sheep in Hampshire. _Gerald. _ Sir Abel, you have lost five thousand pounds, and with it, properly managed, an excellent wife, who, though I cannot condescend totake again as mine--you may depend on't shall never trouble you. Come!this way [_Beckoning to_ MRS. GERALD. ]--important events now call on me, and prevent my staying longer with this company. Sir Abel, we shall meetsoon. Nay, come, you know I'm not used to trifle; Come, come--[_Shereluctantly, but obediently, crosses the stage, and runs off_--GERALD_follows. _] _Sir Abel. _ [_Imitating. _] Come, come--That's a damn'd clever fellow!Joy, joy, my boy! Here, here, your hands--The first use I make ofliberty, is to give happiness--I wish I had more imitators--Well, whatwill you do? [_Walks about exultingly. _] Where will you go? I'll go anywhere you like--Will you go to Bath, or Brighton, or Petersburgh, orJerusalem, or Seringapatam? all the same to me--we single fellows--werove about--nobody cares about us--we care for nobody. _Handy, jun. _ I must to the Castle, father. _Sir Abel. _ Have with you Bob. [_Singing. _] "I'll sip every flower--I'llchange every hour. "--[_Beckoning. _]--Come, come--[_Exeunt_ SIR ABEL, HANDY, _jun. And_ SUSAN. SUSAN _kisses her hand to_ ASHFIELD _and_DAME. ] _Ash. _ Bless her! how nicely she do trip it away with the gentry! _Dame. _ And then, Tummas, think of the wedding. _Ash. _ [_Reflecting. _] I declare I shall be just the zame as ever--maybe I may buy a smartish bridle, or a zilver backy stopper, or the likeo' that. _Dame. _ [_Apart. _] And, then, when we come out of church, Mrs. Grundywill be standing about there-- _Ash. _ I shall shake hands agreeably wi' all my friends. [_Apart. _] _Dame. _ [_Apart. _] Then I just look at her in this manner. _Ash. _ [_Apart. _] How dost do, Peter--Ah, Dick, --glad to zee thee wi'all my zoul. [_Bows towards the centre of the stage. _] _Dame. _ [_Apart. _] Then, with a kind of half curt'sy, I shall--[_Sheadvances to the centre also, and their heads meet. _] _Ash. _ What an wold fool thee be'st, Dame--Come along, and behavepratty, do'e. [_Exeunt. _ SCENE II. _The same as act fourth, scene third. _ _Enter_ HANDY, _jun. With caution, bearing a light, and a large key. _ _Handy, jun. _ Now to fulfil my promise with Sir PhilipBlandford--by--entering that chamber, and removing--'Tis rather awful--Idon't half like it, somehow, every thing is so cursedly still. What'sthat? I thought I heard something--no--why, 'sdeath, I am notafraid--no--I'm quite su--su--sure of that--only every thing is socursedly hush, and--[_A flash of light, and a tremendous explosion takesplace. _] What the devil's that? [_Trembling. _] I swear I hear someone--lamenting--who's there? _Enter_ SIR ABEL HANDY. Father? [_Trembling. _] _Sir Abel. _ [_Trembling. _] Bob! _Handy, jun. _ Have you seen any thing! _Sir Abel. _ Oh, my dear boy! _Handy, jun. _ Damn it, don't frighten one-- _Sir Abel. _ Such an accident! Mercy on us! _Handy, jun. _ Speak! _Sir Abel. _ I was mixing the ingredients of my grand substitute forgunpowder, when somehow it blew up, and set the curtains on fire, and-- _Handy, jun. _ Curtains! zounds, the room's in a blaze. _Sir Abel. _ Don't say so, Bob. _Handy, jun. _ What's to be done? Where's your famous preparation forextinguishing flames? _Sir Abel. _ It is not mixed. _Handy, jun. _ Where's your fire escape? _Sir Abel. _ It is not fixed. _Handy, jun. _ Where's your patent fire engine? _Sir Abel. _ 'Tis on the road. _Handy, jun. _ Well, you are never at a loss. _Sir Abel. _ Never. _Handy, jun. _ What's to be done? _Sir Abel. _ I don't know. I say, Bob, I have it--perhaps it will go outof itself! _Handy, jun. _ Go out! it increases every minute--Let us run forassistance--Let us alarm the family. [_Exit. _ _Sir Abel. _ Yes--dear me! dear me! _Servant. _ [_Without. _] Here, John! Thomas! some villain has set fire tothe Castle. If you catch the rascal, throw him into the flames. [SIR ABEL _runs off, and the alarm bell rings. _ SCENE III. _The Garden of the Castle--The effects of the fire shown on the foliageand scenery. _ _Enter_ HENRY, _meeting_ EVERGREEN. _Henry. _ The Castle in flames! What occasioned it? _Everg. _ Alas! I know not! _Henry. _ Are the family in safety? _Everg. _ Sir Philip is. _Henry. _ And his daughter? _Everg. _ Poor lady! I just now beheld her looking with agony from thatwindow! _Henry. _ Ah! Emma in danger!--Farewell! _Everg. _ [_Holding him. _] Are you mad? the great staircase is in flames. _Henry. _ I care not! Should we meet no more, tell Sir Philip I died forhis daughter! _Everg. _ Yet reflect. _Henry. _ Old man, do not cling to me thus--'Sdeath! men will encounterperil to ruin a woman, and shall I hesitate when it is to save one? [_Exit. _ _Everg. _ Brave, generous boy! Heaven preserve thee! _Enter_ SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD. _Sir Philip. _ Emma, my child, where art thou? _Everg. _ I fear, sir, the Castle will be destroyed. _Sir Philip. _ My child! my child! where is she? speak! _Everg. _ Alas! she remains in the Castle! _Sir Philip. _ Ah; then will I die with her! [_Going. _ _Everg. _ Hold, dear master! if human power can preserve her, she issafe--The bravest, noblest of men has flown to her assistance. _Sir Philip. _ Heaven reward him with its choicest blessings! _Everg. _ 'Tis Henry. _Sir Philip. _ Henry! Heaven will reward him--I will reward him! _Everg. _ Then be happy; Look, sir! _Sir Philip. _ Ah! dare I trust my eyes! _Everg. _ He bears her safe in his arms. _Sir Philip. _ Bountiful Creator, accept my thanks! _Enter_ HENRY, _bearing_ EMMA _in his arms. _ _Henry. _ There is your daughter. _Sir Philip. _ My child! my Emma, revive! _Henry. _ [_Apart. _] Aye--now to unfold the mystery--The avenue to theeastern wing is still passable--the chamber not yet in flames--thepresent moment lost, and all is closed for ever. I will be satisfied, orperish. [_Exit. _ _Miss B. _ Am I restor'd to my dear father's arms? _Sir Philip. _ Yes, only blessing of my life! In future thy wishes shallbe mine--thy happiness my joy. _Enter_ HANDY, _jun. And_ SUSAN. _Handy, jun. _ My dear friend safe! and the lovely Emma in his arms! Thenlet the bonfire blaze. _Sir Philip. _ But, Emma, where is your Henry? I wish to be just tohim--I wish to thank him. _Miss B. _ He has withdrawn, to avoid our gratitude. -- _Everg. _ No--he again rushed into the Castle, exclaiming, "I willpenetrate that chamber, or perish in the attempt. " _Sir Philip. _ Then all is discovered. _Handy, jun. _ Hush, for Heaven's sake collect yourself! _Enter_ HENRY, _in great agitation. _ _Miss B. _ Ah! [_Shrieks. _] Thank Heaven, he's safe! What urged you, Henry, again to venture in the Castle? _Henry. _ Fate! the desperate attempt of a desperate man! _Sir Philip. _ Ah! _Henry. _ Yes; the mystery is developed. In vain the massy bars, cementedwith their cankerous rust, opposed my entrance--in vain the heatedsuffocating damps enveloped me--in vain the hungry flames flashed theirvengeance round me! What could oppose a man struggling to know his fate?I forced the doors, a firebrand was my guide, and among many evidencesof blood and guilt, I found--these! [_Produces a knife and bloodycloth. _] _Sir Philip. _ [_Starts with horror, then, with solemnity. _] It isaccomplished! Just Heaven, I bend to thy decree!--Blood must be paid byblood! Henry, that knife aimed by this fatal hand, murdered thy father! _Henry. _ Ah! [_Grasping the knife. _] _Miss B. _ [_Placing herself between him and her father. _] Henry! [_Hedrops his hand. _] Oh, believe him not! 'Twas madness! I've heard himtalk thus wildly in his dreams! We are all friends! None will repeat hiswords--I'm sure none will! My heart will break!--Oh, Henry! will youdestroy my father? _Henry. _ Would I were in my grave! _Enter_ GERALD. _Sir Philip. _ Ah, Gerald here! How vain concealment! Well, come you togive evidence of my shame? _Gerald. _ I come to announce one, who for many years has watched eachaction of your life. _Sir Philip. _ Who? _Gerald. _ Morrington. _Sir Philip. _ I shall then behold the man who has so long avoided me---- _Gerald. _ But ever has been near you--he is here. _Enter_ MORRINGTON, _wrapped up in his cloak. _ _Sir Philip. _ Well, behold your victim in his last stage of humanwretchedness! Come you to insult me; [MORRINGTON _clasps his hands together, and hides his face. _] Ah! can even you pity me? Speak--still silent--still mysterious--Well, let me employ what remains of life, in thinking ofhereafter--[_Addressing Heaven. _] Oh, my brother! we soon shall meetagain--And let me hope, that, stripped of those passions which make mendevils, I may receive the heavenly balm of thy forgiveness, as I, frommy inmost soul, do pardon thee. [MORRINGTON _becomes convulsed with agony, and falls into_ GERALD'S _arms. _] Ah! what means that agony? He faints! give him air! [_They throw open his cloak and hat. _] [_Starts. _] Angels of mercy! my brother! 'tis he! he lives! Henry, support your father! _Henry. _ [_Running to_ MORRINGTON. ] Ah, my father! he revives! _Sir Philip. _ Hush! [MORRINGTON _recovers--seeing his brother, covers his face with shame, then falls at his feet. _] _Mor. _ Crawling in the dust, behold a repentant wretch!-- _Sir Philip. _ [_Indignantly. _] My brother Morrington! _Mor. _ Turn not away--in mercy hear me! _Sir Philip. _ Speak! _Mor. _ After the dreadful hour that parted us, agonized with remorse, Iwas about to punish home what your arm had left unaccomplished; whensome angel whispered--"Punishment is life, not death--Live and atone!" _Sir Philip. _ Oh! go on! _Mor. _ I flew to you--I found you surrounded by sharpers--What was to bedone? I became Morrington! littered with villains! practised the arts ofdevils! braved the assassin's steel! possessed myself of your largeestates--lived hateful to myself, detested by mankind--to do what? tosave an injured brother from destruction, and lay his fortune at hisfeet! [_Places parchments before_ SIR PHILIP. ] _Sir Philip. _ Ah! is it possible! _Mor. _ Oh, is that atonement? No--By me you first beheld her mother!'Twas I that gave her fortune! Is that atonement? No--But my Henry hassaved that angel's life--Kneel with me, my boy--lift up thy innocenthands, with those of thy guilty father, and beg for mercy from thatinjured saint. [HENRY _kneels with him. _] _Sir Philip. _ O God! How infinite are thy mercies! Henry, forgiveme--Emma, plead for me--There--There. [_Joining their hands. _] _Henry. _ But my father---- _Sir Philip. _ [_Approaching. _] Charles! _Mor. _ Philip! _Sir Philip. _ Brother, I forgive thee. _Mor. _ Then let me die--blest, most blest! _Sir Philip. _ No, no. [_Striking his breast. _] Here--I want theehere--Raise him to my heart. [_They raise_ MORRINGTON--_in the effort to embrace, he falls into their arms exhausted. _] Again! [_They sink into each other's arms. _] _Handy, jun. _ [_Comes forward. _] If forgiveness be an attribute whichennobles our nature, may we not hope to find pardon for ourerrors--_here?_ [_The Curtain falls. _] THE END. [Transcriber's Note: The following corrections have been made to theoriginal text. In Act I, Scene III, a missing period has been added to the sentence "Ipressed forward, but they avoided me. " In Act II, Scene I, a missing quotation mark has been added to thesentence, "Were you at Lady Overall's?" In Act II, Scene III, the attribution of the line "What! mayn't I latherun a bit?" has been corrected from Susan to Ashfield. In Act IV, Scene I, a comma has been changed to a period in the sentence"That is the boy. "]