Part 23

Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! look there! turn back thy thoughts with me, and witness to my growing love; there was a time when I believ'd that form incapable of vice or of decay! There I proposed the partner of an easy home! There I for ever hoped to find, a chearful companion, an agreeable intimate, a faithful friend, a useful help-mate, and a tender mother----But oh! how bitter now the disappointment!

_Man._ The world is different in its sense of happiness: offended as you are, I know you still will be just.

Lord _Town._ Fear me not.

_Man._ This last reproach, I see, has struck her.

[_Aside._

Lord _Town._ No, let me not (though I this moment cast her from my heart for ever) let me not urge her punishment beyond her crimes----I know the world is fond of any tale that feeds its appetite of scandal: and as I am conscious, severities of this kind seldom fail of imputations too gross to mention, I here, before you both acquit her of the least suspicion rais'd against the honour of my bed. Therefore when abroad her conduct may be question'd, do her fame that justice.

Lady _Town._ O sister!

[_Turns to Lady ~Grace~ weeping._

Lord _Town._ When I am spoken of, where without favour this action may be canvass'd, relate but half my provocations, and give me up to censure.

[_Going._

Lady _Town._ Support me! save me! hide me from the world!

[_Falls on Lady ~Grace~'s neck._

Lord _Town._ [_Returning._]----I had forgot me--You have no share in my resentment; therefore, as you have liv'd in friendship with her, your parting may admit of gentler terms than suit the honour of an injur'd husband.

[_Offers to go out._

_Man._ [_Interposing._] My Lord, you must not, shall not leave her thus! one moment's stay can do your cause no wrong! If looks can speak the anguish of the heart, I'll answer with my life, there's something labouring in her mind, that would you bear the hearing, might deserve it.

Lord _Town._ Consider! since we no more can meet; press not my staying to insult her.

Lady _Town._ Yet stay my Lord----the little I would say, will not deserve an insult; and undeserv'd, I know your nature gives it not. But as you've call'd in friends, to witness your resentment, let them be equal hearers of my last reply.

Lord _Town._ I shan't refuse you that, Madam----be it so.

Lady _Town._ My Lord, you ever have complain'd I wanted love; but as you kindly have allowed I never gave it to another; so when you hear the story of my heart, though you may still complain, you will not wonder at my coldness.

Lady _Grace._ This promises a reverse of temper.

[_Apart._

_Man._ This, my Lord, you are concern'd to hear!

Lord _Town._ Proceed, I am attentive.

Lady _Town._ Before I was your bride, my Lord, the flattering world had talk'd me into beauty; which, at my glass, my youthful vanity confirm'd: wild with that fame, I thought mankind my slaves, I triumph'd over hearts while all my pleasure was their pain: yet was my own so equally insensible to all, that when a father's firm commands enjoin'd me to make choice of one, I even there declin'd the liberty he gave, and to his own election yielded up my youth----his tender care, my Lord, directed him to you----Our hands were join'd! But still my heart was wedded to its folly! My only joy was power, command, society, profuseness, and to lead in pleasures! The husband's right to rule, I thought a vulgar law, which only the deform'd or meanly spirited obey'd! I knew no directors, but my passions; no matter but my will! even you, my lord, some time o'ercome by love, was pleas'd with my delights; nor, then foresaw this mad misuse of your indulgence----And, though I call myself ungrateful, while I own it, yet as a truth, it cannot be deny'd----That kind indulgence has undone me! it added strength to my habitual failings, and in a heart thus warm, in wild unthinking life, no wonder if the gentler sense of love was lost.

Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! where has this creature's } heart been buried? } } _Apart._ _Man._ If yet recoverable----How vast a } treasure? }

Lady _Town._ What I have said, my lord, is not my excuse; but my confession! my errors (give 'em if you please, a harder name) cannot be defended! No! What's in its nature wrong, no words can palliate, no plea can alter! What then remains in my condition but resignation to your pleasure? Time only can convince you of my future conduct: Therefore till I have liv'd an object of forgiveness, I dare not hope for pardon----The penance of a lonely contrite life were little to the innocent; but to have deserv'd this separation, will strew perpetual thorns upon my pillow.

Lady _Grace._ O happy, heavenly hearing!

Lady _Town._ Sister, farewel! [_Kissing her._] Your virtue needs no warning from the shame that falls on me: but when you think I have aton'd my follies past----persuade your injur'd brother to forgive them.

Lord _Town._ No, Madam! Your errors thus renounc'd, this instant are forgotten! So deep, so due a sense of them, has made you, what my utmost wishes form'd, and all my heart has sigh'd for.

Lady _Town._ [_Turning to Lady ~Grace~._] How odious does this goodness make me!

Lady _Grace._ How amiable your thinking so?

Lord _Town._ Long-parted friends, that pass through easy voyages of life, receive but common gladness in their meeting: but from a shipwreck sav'd, we mingle tears with our embraces!

[_Embracing Lady ~Townly~._

Lady _Town._ What words! what love! what duty can repay such obligations!

Lord _Town._ Preserve but this desire to please, your power is endless.

Lady _Town._ Oh!----'till this moment, never did I know, my Lord, I had a heart to give you!

Lord _Town._ By heav'n this yielding hand, when first it gave you to my wishes, presented not a treasure more desirable! O _Manly_! sister! as you have often shar'd in my disquiet, partake of my felicity! my new-born joy! see here the bride of my desires! this may be called my wedding-day!

Lady _Grace._ Sister! (for now methinks that name is dearer to my heart than ever) let me congratulate the happiness that opens to you.

_Man._ Long, long and mutual may it flow----

Lord _Town._ To make our happiness compleat, my dear, join here with me to give a hand, that amply will repay the obligation.

Lady _Town._ Sister! a day like this----

Lady _Grace._ Admits of no excuse against the general joy.

[_Gives her hand to ~Manly~._

_Man._ A joy like mine----despairs of words to speak it.

Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! how the name of friend endears the brother!

[_Embracing him._

_Man._ Your words, my Lord, will warn me to deserve them.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ My Lord, the apartments are full of masqueraders----And some people of quality there desire to see your Lordship and my Lady.

Lady _Town._ I thought, my Lord, your orders had forbid this revelling?

Lord _Town._ No, my dear, _Manly_ has desir'd their admittance to-night, it seems, upon a particular occasion----Say we will wait upon them instantly.

[_Exit Servant._

Lady _Town._ I shall be but ill company to them.

Lord _Town._ No matter: not to see them, would on a sudden to be too particular. Lady _Grace_ will assist you to entertain them.

Lady _Town._ With her, my Lord, I shall be always easy----Sister, to your unerring virtue, I commit the guidance of my future days.

Never the paths of pleasure more to tread, But where your guarded innocence shall lead. For in the marriage-state the world must own, Divided happiness was never known. To make it mutual, nature points the way: Let husbands govern: gentle wives obey.

[_Exit._

_The +SCENE+ opening to another apartment discovers a great number of people in masquerade talking all together, and playing one upon another: Lady ~Wronghead~ as a shepherdess; ~Jenny~, as a nun; the Squire as a running footman; and the Count in a ~Domino~. After some time, Lord and Lady ~Townly~, with Lady ~Grace~, enter to them unmask'd._

Lord _Town._ So! here's a great deal of company.

Lady _Grace._ A great many people, my Lord, but no company----as you'll find----for here's one now, that seems to have a mind to entertain us.

[_A mask, after some affected gesture, makes up to Lady ~Townly~._

_Mask._ Well, dear Lady _Townly_, shan't we see you, by-and-by?

Lady _Town._ I don't know you, Madam.

_Mask._ Don't you, seriously?

[_In a squeaking tone._

Lady _Town._ Not I, indeed.

_Mask._ Well, that's charming; but can't you guess?

Lady _Town._ Yes, I could guess wrong, I believe.

_Mask._ That's what I'd have you to do.

Lady _Town._ But, Madam, if I don't know you at all, is not that as well?

_Mask._ Ay, but you do know me.

Lady _Town._ Dear sister, take her off o' my hands; there's no bearing this.

[_Apart._

Lady _Grace._ I fancy I know you, Madam.

_Mask._ I fancy you don't: what makes you think you do?

Lady _Grace._ Because I have heard you talk.

_Mask._ Ay, but you don't know my voice, I'm sure.

Lady _Grace._ There is something in your wit and humour, Madam, so very much your own, it is impossible you can be any body but my Lady _Trifle_.

_Mask._ [Unmasking.] Dear Lady Grace! thou art a charming creature.

Lady _Grace._ Is there no body else we know here?

_Mask._ O dear, yes! I have found out fifty already.

Lady _Grace._ Pray who are they?

_Mask._ O, charming company! there's Lady _Ramble_----Lady _Riot_----Lady _Kill-Care_----Lady _Squander_----Lady _Strip_----Lady _Pawn_----and the Dutchess of _Single-Guinea_.

Lord _Town._ Is it not hard, my dear! that } people of sense and probity are sometimes } forc'd to seem fond of such company? } _Apart._ } Lady _Town._ My Lord, it will always give } me pain to remember their acquaintance, but } none to drop it immediately. }

Lady _Grace._ But you have given us no account of the men, Madam. Are they good for any thing?

_Mask._ O yes! you must know, I always find out them by their endeavours to find out me.

Lady _Grace._ Pray who are they?

_Mask._ Why, for your men of tip-top wit and pleasure, about town, there's my Lord----_Bite_----Lord _Arch-wag_----Young _Brazen-wit_----Lord _Timberdown_----Lord _Joint-Life_----and----Lord _Mortgage_. Then for your pretty fellows only----there's Sir _Powder-Peacock_----Lord _Lapwing_----_Billy Magpye_----Beau _Frightful_----Sir _Paul Plaster-crown_, and the Marquis of _Monkey-man_.

Lady _Grace._ Right; and these are fine gentlemen that never want elbow-room at an assembly.

_Mask._ The rest I suppose, by their tawdry hired habits are tradesmens wives, inns-of-court beaus, _Jews_, and kept mistresses.

Lord _Town._ An admirable collection!

Lady _Grace._ Well, of all our public diversions, I am amaz'd how this, that is so very expensive, and has so little to shew for it, can draw so much company together.

Lord _Town._ O! if it were not expensive, the better sort would not come into it: and because money can purchase a ticket, the common people scorn to be kept out of it.

_Mask._ Right, my Lord, poor Lady Grace! I suppose you are under the same astonishment, that an opera should draw so much good company.

Lady _Grace._ Not at all, Madam; it is an easier matter sure to gratify the ear, than the understanding. But have you no notion, Madam, of receiving pleasure and profit at the same time?

_Mask._ Oh! quite none! unless it be sometimes winning a great stake; laying down a Vole, sans prendre may come up, to the profitable pleasure you were speaking of.

Lord _Town._ You seem attentive, my dear? } } Lady _Town._ I am, my Lord; and amaz'd at } _Apart._ my own follies so strongly painted in another } woman. }

Lady _Grace._ But see, my Lord, we had best adjourn our debate, I believe, for here are some masks that seem to have a mind to divert other people as well as themselves.

Lord _Town._ The least we can do is to give them a clear stage then.

[_A dance of masks here in various characters._

This was a favour extraordinary.

_Enter ~Manly~._

O _Manly_! I thought we had lost you.

_Man._ I ask pardon, my Lord; but I have been oblig'd to look a little after my country family.

Lord _Town._ Well, pray, what have you done with them?

_Man._ They are all in the house here, among the masks, my Lord; if your Lordship has curiosity enough, to step into a lower apartment, in three minutes I'll give you an ample account of them.

Lord _Town._ O! by all means: we'll wait upon you.

[_The scene shuts upon the masks to smaller apartments._

_~Manly~ re-enters with Sir ~Francis Wronghead~._

Sir _Fran._ Well, cousin, you have made my very hair stand on an end! Waunds! if what you tell me be true, I'll stuff my whole family into a stage-coach, and trundle them into the country on _Monday_ morning.

_Man._ Stick to that, Sir, and we may yet find a way to redeem all: in the mean time, place yourself behind this screen, and for the truth of what I have told you take the evidence of your own senses: but be sure you keep close till I give you the signal.

Sir _Fran._ Sir! I'll warrant you----Ah! my Lady, my Lady _Wronghead!_ What a bitter business have you drawn me into!

_Man._ Hush! to your post; here comes one couple already.

_Sir ~Francis~ retires behind the screen._

[_Exit ~Manly~._

_Enter ~Myrtilla~ with Squire ~Richard~._

Squ. _Rich._ What! is this the doctor's chamber?

_Myr._ Yes, yes, speak softly.

Squ. _Rich._ Well, but where is he?

_Myr._ He'll be ready for us presently, but he says he can't do us the good turn, without witnesses: so, when the Count and your sister come, you know he and you may be fathers for one another.

Squ. _Rich._ Well, well, tit for tat! ay, ay, that will be friendly.

_Myr._ And see! here they come.

_Enter Count ~Basset~, and Miss ~Jenny~._

Count _Bas._ So, so, here's your brother, and his bride, before us, my dear.

_Jenny._ Well, I vow my heart's at my mouth still! I thought I should never have got rid of Mama! but while she stood gaping on the dance, I gave her the slip! Lawd! do but feel how it beats here.

Count _Bas._ O the pretty flutterer! I protest, my dear, you have put mine into the same palpitation!

_Jenny._ Ah! you say so----but let's see now----O lud! I vow it thumps purely--well, well, I see it will do, and so where's the parson?

Count _Bas._ Mrs. _Myrtilla_, will you be so good as to see if the doctor's ready for us?

_Myr._ He only staid for you, Sir: I'll fetch him immediately.

[_Exit ~Myrtilla~._

_Jenny._ Pray, Sir, am not I to take place of Mama, when I am a countess?

Count _Bas._ No doubt on't, my dear.

_Jenny._ O lud how her back will be up then, when she meets me at an assembly! or you and I in our coach and six, at _Hyde-Park_ together!

Count _Bas._ Ay, or when she hears the box-keepers, at an Opera, call out--_The Countess of_ Basset's _servants_!

_Jenny._ Well, I say it, that will be delicious! And then, mayhap, to have a fine gentleman with a star and what-d'ye-call-um ribbon, lead me to my chair, with his hat under his arm all the way! Hold up, says the chairman, and so, says I, my Lord, your humble servant. I suppose, Madam, says he, we shall see you at my Lady _Quadrille_'s! Ay, ay, to be sure, my Lord, says I----So in swops me, with my hoop stuff'd up to my forehead! and away they trot, swing! swang! with my tassels dangling, and my flambeaux blazing, and----Oh! it's a charming thing to be a woman of quality!

Count _Bas._ Well, I see that plainly, my dear, there's ne'er a Dutchess of 'em all will become an equipage like you.

_Jenny._ Well, well, do you find equipage, and I'll find airs, I warrant you.

[_Sings._

Squ. _Rich._ Troth! I think this masquerading's the merriest game that ever I saw in my life! Thof, in my mind, and there were but a little wrestling, or cudgel playing naw, it would help it hugely. But what a-rope makes the parson stay so?

Count _Bas._ Oh! here he comes, I believe.

_Enter ~Myrtilla~ with a constable._

_Const._ Well, Madam, pray which is the party that wants a spice of my office here?

_Myr._ That's the gentleman.

[_Pointing to the Count._

Count _Bas._ Hey-day! what in masquerade, doctor?

_Const._ Doctor! Sir, I believe you have mistaken your man: but if you are called Count _Basset_, I have a _billet-doux_ in my hand for you, that will set you right presently.

Count _Bas._ What the devil's the meaning of all this?

_Const._ Only my Lord Chief Justice's warrant against you for forgery, Sir.

Count _Bas._ Blood and thunder!

_Const._ And so, Sir, if you please to pull off your fool's frock there, I'll wait upon you to the next Justice of peace immediately.

_Jenny._ O dear me! what's the matter?

[_Trembling._

Count _Bas._ O! nothing, only a masquerading frolic, my dear.

Squ. _Rich._ Oh oh! is that all?

Sir _Fran._ No, Sirrah! that is not all.

[_Sir ~Francis~ coming softly behind the Squire, knocks him down with his cane._

_Enter ~Manly~._

Squ. _Rich._ O lawd! O lawd! he has beaten my brains out!

_Man._ Hold, hold, Sir _Francis_, have a little mercy upon my poor godson, pray, Sir.

Sir _Fran._ Waunds, cousin, I han't patience.

Count _Bas._ _Manly_! nay, then I'm blown to the devil.

[_Aside._

Squ. _Rich._ O my head! my head!

_Enter Lady ~Wronghead~._

Lady _Wrong._ What's the matter here, gentlemen? for heav'ns sake! what, are you murd'ring my children?

_Con._ No, no, Madam! no murder! only a little suspicion of felony, that's all.

Sir _Fran._ [_To ~Jenny~._] And for you, Mrs. _Hot-upon't_, I could find in my heart to make you wear that habit, as long as you live, you jade you. Do you know, hussy, that you were within two minutes of marrying a pickpocket?

Count _Bas._ So, so, all's out, I find.

[_Aside._

_Jenny._ O the mercy! why, pray, Papa, is not the Count a man of quality then?

Sir _Fran._ O yes! one of the unhang'd ones, it seems.

Lady _Wrong._ [_Aside._] Married! O the confident thing! There was his urgent business then----slighted for her! I han't patience!--and for ought I know, I have been all this while making a friendship with a highwayman!

_Man._ Mr. _Constable_, secure that door there.

Sir _Fran._ Ah, my Lady! my Lady! this comes of your journey to _London_! but now I have a frolick of my own, Madam; therefore pack up your trumpery this very night, for the moment my horses are able to crawl, you and your brats shall make a journey into the country again.

Lady _Wrong._ Indeed you are mistaken, Sir _Francis_----I shall not stir out of town yet, I promise you.

Sir _Fran._ Not stir! Waunds! madam----

_Man._ Hold, Sir!--if you'll give me leave a little--I fancy I shall prevail upon my Lady to think better on't.

Sir _Fran._ Ah? cousin, you are a friend indeed!

_Man._ [_Apart to my Lady._] Look you, Madam, as to the favour you design'd me, in sending this spurious letter inclosed to my Lady _Grace_, all the revenge I have taken, is to have sav'd your son and daughter from ruin----Now if you will take them fairly and quietly into the country again, I will save your Ladyship from ruin.

Lady _Wrong._ What do you mean, Sir?

_Man._ Why Sir _Francis_----shall never know what is in this letter; look upon it. How it came into my hands you shall know at leisure.

Lady _Wrong._ Ha! my _billet-doux_ to the Count! and an appointment in it! I shall sink with confusion!

_Man._ What shall I say to Sir _Francis_, Madam?

Lady _Wrong._ Dear Sir, I am in such a trembling! preserve my honour and I am all obedience!

[_Apart to ~Manly~._

_Man._ Sir _Francis_----my Lady is ready to receive your commands for her journey whenever you please to appoint it.

Sir _Fran._ Ah cousin! I doubt I am obliged to you for it.

_Man._ Come, come, Sir _Francis_! take it as you find it. Obedience in a wife is a good thing, though it were never so wonderful----And now, Sir, we have nothing to do but dispose of this gentleman.

Count _Bas._ Mr. _Manly_! Sir, I hope you won't ruin me.

_Man._ Did not you forge this note for five hundred pounds, Sir?

Count _Bas._ Sir----I see you know the world, and therefore I shall not pretend to prevaricate----But it has hurt nobody yet, Sir! I beg you will not stigmatize me! since you have spoil'd my fortune in one family, I hope you won't be so cruel to a young fellow, as to put it out of my power, Sir, to make it in another, Sir!

_Man._ Look you, Sir, I have not much time to waste with you: but if you expect mercy yourself, you must show it to one you have been cruel to.

Count _Bas._ Cruel, Sir!

_Man._ Have not you ruin'd this young woman?

Count _Bas._ I, Sir!

_Man._ I know you have----therefore you can't blame her, if, in the fact you are charg'd with, she is a principal witness against you. However, you have one and one only chance to get off with. Marry her this instant----and you take off her evidence.

Count _Bas._ Dear Sir!

_Man._ No words, Sir; a wife or a _mittimus_.

Count _Bas._ Lord, Sir! this is the most unmerciful mercy!

_Man._ A private penance, or a public one----constable.

Count _Bas._ Hold, Sir, since you are pleas'd to give me my choice; I will not make so ill a compliment to the Lady, as not to give her the preference.

_Man._ It must be done this minute, Sir: the chaplain you expected is still within call.

Count _Bas._ Well, Sir,----since it must be so----come, spouse----I am not the first of the fraternity that has run his head into one noose, to keep it out of another.

_Myr._ Come, Sir, don't repine: marriage is, at worst, but playing upon the square.

Count _Bas._ Ay, but the worst of the match too, is the devil.

_Man._ Well, Sir, to let you see it is not so bad as you think it; as a reward for her honesty, in detecting your practices, instead of the forged bill you would have put upon her, there's a real one of five hundred pounds, to begin a new honey-moon with.

[_Gives it to Myrtilla._

Count _Bas._ Sir, this is so generous an act----

_Man._ No compliments, dear Sir,----I am not at leisure now to receive them: Mr. _Constable_, will you be so good as to wait upon this gentleman into the next room, and give this lady in marriage to him?

_Const._ Sir, I'll do it faithfully.

Count _Bas._ Well! five hundred will serve to make a handsome push with, however.

[_Exeunt Count, ~Myr.~ and Constable._

Sir _Fran._ And that I may be sure my family's rid of him for ever----come, my Lady, let's even take our children along with us, and be all witness of the ceremony.

[_Exeunt Sir ~Fran~, Lady ~Wrong~, Miss and Squire._

_Man._ Now, my Lord, you may enter.

_Enter Lord and Lady ~Townly~, and Lady ~Grace~._

Lord _Town._ So, Sir, I give you joy of your negotiation.

_Man._ You overheard it all, I presume?

Lady _Grace._ From first to last, Sir.

Lord _Town._ Never were knaves and fools better dispos'd of.

_Man._ A sort of poetical justice, my Lord, not much above the judgment of a modern comedy.

Lord _Town._ To heighten that resemblance, I think, sister, there only wants your rewarding the hero of the fable, by naming the day of his happiness.

Lady _Grace._ This day, to-morrow, every hour, I hope, of life to come, will shew I want not inclination to complete it.

_Man._ Whatever I may want, Madam, you will always find endeavours to deserve you.

Lord _Town._ Then all are happy.

Lady _Town._ Sister! I give you joy! consummate as the happiest pair can boast.

In you methinks, as in a glass, I see The happiness that once advanc'd to me. So visible the bliss, so plain the way, How was it possible my sense could stray? But now, a convert, to this truth, I come, That married happiness is never found from home.

EPILOGUE,

Spoken by Mrs. +OLDFIELD+.