Chapter 12

Enter_ Helen _and_ Charles.

_Helen._ I tell you, it is unless to follow me, sir. The proud spirit you evinced this morning, might have saved you methinks from this meanness of solicitation.

_Charles._ Surely now a frank acknowledgment of error deserves a milder epithet than meanness.

_Helen._ As you seem equally disposed, sir, to quarrel with my words, as you are to question my conduct, I fear you will have little cause to congratulate yourself on this _forced_ and _tiresome_ interview.

_Charles._ _Forced_ interview! Did ever woman so consider the anxiety of a lover to seek explanation and forgiveness! Helen, Helen, you torture me; is this generous?--is it like yourself? surely if you lov'd me--

_Helen._ Charles--I do love you--that, is, I _did_ love you, but--I don't love you, but (_aside_) ah! now I'm going to make bad worse.

_Charles._ But _what_, Helen?

_Helen._ The violence of temper you have discovered this morning, has shown me the dark side of your character; it has given a pause to affection, and afforded me time to reflect--now though I do really and truly believe that--you--love me Charles.

_Sir W._ (_behind_) I must see my daughter directly--where is she!

_Enter_ Tiffany _running._

_Tiffany._ Ma'am, ma'am, your father's coming up stairs, with a letter in his hand, muttering something about Mr. Charles; as sure as life you'll be discovered.

_Helen._ For heav'n's sake hide yourself; I would not have him find you here for worlds--here, step into the music-room.

_Charles._ Promise me first your forgiveness.

_Helen._ Charles, retire, I entreat you--make haste, he is here.

_Charles._ On my knees--

_Helen._ Then kneel in the next room.

_Charles._ Give me but your hand.

_Helen._ That is now at my own disposal--I beseech you go--(_Charles just gains the door when enter sir Willoughby with a letter in his hand, and Lady Worret._)

_Sir W._ Gadzooks! Here's a discovery!

_Helen._ A discovery, sir? (_Helen looks at the door_)

_Sir W._ Ay, a discovery indeed!--Ods life! I'm in a furious passion!

_Helen._ Dear sir, not with me I hope--

_Lady W._ Let me entreat you sir Willoughby to compose yourself; recollect that anger is very apt to bring on the gout.

_Sir W._ Damn the gout, I must be in a passion--my--life--harkye, daughter--

_Helen._ They know he's here! so I may as well own it at once.

_Lady W._ Pray compose yourself, remember we have no _proof_.

_Sir W._ Why that's true--that is remarkably true--I must compose myself--I _will_--I _do_--I _am_ composed--and now let me open the affair with coolness and deliberation! Daughter, come hither.

_Helen._ Yes, sir--now for it!--

_Sir W._ Daughter, you are in general, a very good, dutiful, and obedient child--

_Helen._ I know it, papa--and was from a child, and I always will be.

_Lady W._ Allow me, sir Willoughby--you are in general, child, a very headstrong, disobedient, and undutiful daughter.

_Helen._ I know it, mamma--and was from a child, and always will be.

_Lady W._ How, madam!--Remember, sir Willoughby--there is a proper medium between too violent a severity, and too gentle a lenity.

_Sir W._ Zounds, madam, in your own curs'd economy there is no medium--but don't bawl so, or we shall be overheard.

_Lady W._ Sir Willoughby, you are very ill I'm sure; but I must now attend to this business, daughter, we have heard that Charles--

_Sir W._ Lady Worret, my love, let _me_ speak--you know, child, it is the duty of an _obedient_ daughter, to _obey_ her parents.

_Helen._ I know it, papa, and when I _obey you_, I am _generally obedient_.

_Lady W._ In short, child, I say again, we learn that Charles----

_Sir W._ Lady Worret, lady Worret, you are too abrupt, od-rabbit it, madam, I will be heard: this affair concerns the _honor_ of my family, and on this one occasion, I will be my own spokesman.

_Lady W._ Oh heavens! Your violence affects my brain.

_Sir W._ Does it? I wish it would affect your tongue, with all my heart: bless my soul, what have I said! Lady Worret! lady Worret! you drive me out of my senses, and then wonder that I act like a madman.

_Lady W._ Barbarous man, your cruelty will break my heart, and I shall leave you, sir Willoughby, to deplore my loss, in unavailing despair, and everlasting anguish. [_Exit._

_Sir W._ (_aside_) I am afraid not: such despair and anguish will never be my--happy--lot!--bless me, how quiet the room is--what can be--oh, my wife's gone! now then we may proceed to business--and so daughter, this young fellow, Charles, has dared to return, in direct disobedience to his father's commands.

_Helen._ I had better confess it all at once--he has, he has, my dear papa. I do confess it was very, very wrong; but pray now do forgive--

_Sir W._ _I_--forgive him! never; nor his father will never forgive him; sir Rowland writes me here, to take care of you; I have before given him my solemn promise to prevent your meeting, and I am sorry to say, I haven't the least doubt that you know he is here, and will--

_Helen._ I do confess, _he_ is here, papa.

_Sir W._ Yes, you'll confess it fast enough, now I've found it out.

_Helen._ Indeed I was so afraid you would find it out, that I----

_Sir W._ Find it out! his father writes me word, he has been here in the village these three hours!

_Helen._ In the _village_! Oh, what, you heard he was in the _village_!

_Sir W._ Yes, and being afraid he should find his way to my house--egad I never was brisker after the fox-hounds than I was after you, in fear of finding you at a fault, you puss.

_Helen._ Oh! you were afraid he should come _here_, were you?

_Sir W._ Yes; but I'll take care he shan't; however, as my maxim is (now my wife doesn't hear me) to trust your sex no farther than I can possibly help, I shall just put you, my dear child, under lock and key, 'till this young son of the ocean, is bundled off to sea again.

_Helen._ What! lock me up!

_Sir W._ Damme if I don't. Come, walk into that room, and I'll take the key with me. (_pointing to the room where Charles entered._)

_Helen._ Into _that_ room?

_Sir W._ Yes.

_Helen._ And do you think I shall stay there by myself?

_Sir W._ No, no. Here Tiffany! (_enter_ Tiffany) Miss Pert here shall keep you company. I'll have no whisperings through key-holes, nor letters thrust under doors.

_Helen._ And you'll really lock me up in that room!

_Sir W._ Upon my soul I will.

_Helen._ Now, dear papa, be persuaded; take my advice, and don't.

_Sir W._ If I _don't_, I wish you may be in Charles Austencourt's arms in three minutes from this present speaking.

_Helen._ And if you _do_, take my word for it I might be in his arms if I chose, in less than two minutes from this present warning.

_Sir W._ Might you so? Ha, ha! I'll give you leave if you can: for unless you jump into them out of the window, I'll defy the devil and all his imps to bring you together.

_Helen._ We shall come together without their assistance, depend on it, papa.

_Sir W._ Very well; and now, my dear, walk in.

_Helen._ With all my heart; only remember you had better not. (_He puts her in._)

_Sir W._ That's a good girl; and you, you baggage, in with you (_to Tiffany, who goes in._)

_Sir W._ (_shuts the door and locks it_) "Safe bind, safe find," is one of my lady Worret's favourite proverbs; and that's the only reason why I in general dislike it (_going._)

_Enter_ Falkner.

_Sir W._ Once more welcome, my dear Falkner. What brings you back so soon?

_Falk._ You have a daughter--

_Sir W._ Well, I know I have.

_Falk._ And a wife.

_Sir W._ I'm much obliged to you for the information. You have been a widower some years I believe.

_Falk._ What of that? do you envy me?

_Sir W._ Envy you! what! because you are a widower? Eh? Zounds, I believe he is laughing at me (_aside._)

_Falk._ I am just informed that every thing is finally arranged between your lady and his lordship respecting Helen's marriage.

_Sir W._ Yes, every thing is happily settled.

_Falk._ I am sincerely sorry to hear it.

_Sir W._ You are! I should have thought Mr. Falkner, that my daughter's happiness was dear to you.

_Falk._ It is, and therefore I do not wish to see her married to lord Austencourt.

_Sir W._ Why then what the devil is it you mean?

_Falk._ To see her married to the man of her heart, with whom I trust to see her as happy--as you are with lady Worret.

_Sir W._ Yes, ha! ha! ha! yes! but you are in jest respecting my daughter.

_Falk._ No matter! where is Helen?

_Sir W._ Safe under lock and key.

_Falk._ Under lock and key!

_Sir W._ Ay, in that very room. I've locked her up to keep her from that hot-headed young rogue, Charles Austencourt. Should you like to see her? She's grown a fine young woman.

_Falk._ With all my heart.

_Sir W._ You'll be surprised, I can tell you.

_Falk._ I dare say.

_Sir W._ We'll pop in upon her when she least expects it. I'll bet my life you'll be astonished at her appearance.

_Falk._ Well, I shall be glad to see your daughter; but she must not marry this lord.

_Sir W._ No! Who then?

_Falk._ The man she loves.

_Sir W._ Hey! oh yes! but who do you mean! Charles Austencourt? (_opening the door._)

_Enter_ Lady Worret, _suddenly._

_Lady W._ Charles Austencourt!

_Falk._ (_aloud, and striking the floor with his stick._) Ay, Charles Austencourt!

_Charles_ (_entering._) Here am I. Who calls?

Helen _and_ Tiffany _come forward, and_ Tiffany _goes off._

_Sir W._ Fire and fagots! what do I see?

_Lady W._ Ah Heavens defend me! what do I behold?

_Falk._ Why, is this the surprise you promised me? The astonishment seems general. Pray, sir Willoughby, explain this puppet show!

_Lady W._ Ay! pray sir Willoughby explain--

_Sir W._ Curse me if I can.

_Helen._ I told you how it would be, papa, and you would not believe me!

_Sir W._ So! pray, sir, condescend to inform lady Worret and me, how you introduced yourself into that most extraordinary situation.

_Charles._ Sir, I shall make no mystery of it, nor attempt to screen you from her ladyship's just reproaches, by concealing one atom of the truth. The fact is, madam, that sir Willoughby not only in my hearing, gave Miss Helen his unrestricted permission to throw herself into my arms, but actually forced her into the room where I was quietly seated, and positively and deliberately lock'd us in together!

_Lady W._ Oh! I shall expire!

_Sir W._ I've heard of matchless impudence, but curse me if this isn't the paragon of the species! Zounds! I'm in a wonderful passion! Daughter, I am resolved to have this affair explained to my satisfaction.

_Helen._ You _may_ have it explained, papa, but I fear it won't be to your _satisfaction_.

_Charles._ No, sir, nor to her ladyship's either, and now, as my situation here is not remarkably agreeable I take my leave: madam, your most obedient, and sir Willoughby, the next time you propose an agreeable surprise for your friends--

_Sir W._ Harkye sir, how you came into my house I can't tell, but if you don't presently walk out of it.

_Charles._ I say, I heartily hope that you may accomplish your purpose.

_Sir W._ Zounds, sir, leave my house.

_Charles._ Without finding yourself the most astonished of the party! [_Exit._

_Sir W._ Thank heaven my house is rid of him.

_Lady W._ As usual, sir Willoughby, a precious business you've made of this!

_Sir W._ Death and furies, my Lady Worret--

_Falk._ Gently, my old friend, gently: I'm one too many here during these little domestic discussions; but before I go, on two points let me caution you; let your daughter choose her own husband if you wish her to have one without leaping out of the window to get at him; and be master of your own house and your own wife if you do not wish to continue, what you now are, the laughing-stock of all your acquaintance.-- [_Exit._

_Lady W._ Ah! the barbarian!

_Sir W._ (_appears astonished_) I'm thunderstruck (_makes signs to Helen to go before._)

_Helen._ Won't you go first, papa?

_Sir W._ Hey? If I lose sight of you till you've explained this business, may I be laid up with the gout while you are galloping the Gretna Green! "Be master of your house and wife if you don't wish to continue, _what you now are_!--Hey? the laughing-stock of all your acquaintance!" Sir Willoughby Worret the laughing stock of all his acquaintance! I think I see my self the laughing-stock of all my acquaintance (_pointing to the door_) I'll follow you ladies! I'll reform! 'tis never too late to mend! [_Exeunt._

_End of Act. IV._