Chapter 13

Willoughby _and_ lady Worret.

_Sir W._ Lady Worret! lady Worret! I will have a reform. I am at last resolved to be master of my own house, and so let us come to a right understanding, and I dare say we shall be the better friends for it in future.

_Lady W._ You shall see, sir Willoughby, that I can change as suddenly as yourself. Though you have seen my delicate system deranged on _slight_ occasions, you will find that in essential ones I have still spirit for resentment.

_Sir W._ I'll have my house in future conducted as a gentleman's should be, and I will no longer suffer my wife to make herself the object of ridicule to all her servants. So I'll give up the folly of wishing to be thought a _tender_ husband, for the real honour of being found a _respectable_ one. I'll make a glorious bonfire of all your musty collection of family receipt-books! and when I deliver up your keys to an honest housekeeper, I'll keep one back of a snug apartment in which to deposit a rebellious wife.

_Lady W._ That will be indeed the way to make yourself respectable. I have found means to manage you for some years, and it will be my own fault if I don't do so still.

_Sir W._ Surely I dream! what? have you _managed_ me? Hey? Zounds! I never suspected that. Has sir Willoughby Worret been lead in leading-strings all this time? Death and forty devils, madam, have you presumed to manage _me_?

_Lady W._ Yes, sir; but you had better be silent on the subject, unless you mean to expose yourself to your daughter and all the world.

_Sir W._ Ay, Madam, with all my heart; my daughter and all the world shall know it.

_Enter_ Helen.

_Helen._ Here's a pretty piece of work!--what's the matter now, I wonder?

_Lady W._ How dare you overhear our domestic dissentions. What business have you to know we were quarrelling, madam?

_Helen._ Lord love you! if I had heard it, I should not have listened, for its nothing new, you know, when you're _alone_; though you both look so _loving_ in _public_.

_Sir W._ That's true--that is _lamentably_ true--but all the world _shall_ know it--I'll proclaim it; I'll print it--I'll advertise it!--She has usurped my rights and my power; and her fate, as every usurper's should be, shall be _public_ downfall and disgrace.

_Helen._ What, papa! and won't you let mamma-in-law rule the roast any longer?

_Sir W._ No,--I am resolved from this moment no longer to give way to her absurd whims and wishes.

_Helen._ You are!

_Sir W._ Absolutely and immovably.

_Helen._ And you will venture to contradict her?

_Sir W._ On every occasion--right or wrong.

_Helen._ That's right--Pray, madam, don't you wish me to marry lord Austencourt?

_Lady W._ You know my _will_ on that head, Miss Helen!

_Helen._ Then, papa, of course you wish me to marry _Charles_ Austencourt.

_Sir W._ What! no such thing--no such thing--what! marry a beggar?

_Helen._ But you won't let mamma rule the roast, will you, sir?

_Sir W._ 'Tis a great match! I believe in that _one_ point we shall still agree--

_Lady W._ You may spare your persuasions, Madam, and leave the room.

_Sir W._ What--my daughter leave the room? Stay here, Helen.

_Helen._ To be sure I shall--I came on purpose to tell you the news! oh, tis a pretty piece of work!

_Sir W._ What does the girl mean?

_Helen._ Why, I mean that in order to ruin a poor innocent girl, in our neighbourhood, this amiable lord has prevailed on her to consent to a private marriage--and it now comes out that it was all a mock marriage, performed by a sham priest, and a false license!

_Lady W._ I don't believe one word of it.

_Sir W._ But I do--and shall inquire into it immediately.

_Lady W._ Such a match for your daughter is not to be relinquished on slight grounds; and though his lordship should have been guilty of some indiscretion, it will not alter my resolution respecting his union with Helen.

_Sir W._ No--but it will mine--and to prove to you, madam, that however you may rule your household, you shall no longer rule _me_--if the story has any foundation--I say--she _shall not_ marry lord Austencourt.

_Lady W._ Shall not?

_Sir W._ No, Madam, shall not--and so ends your management, and thus begins my career of new-born authority. I'm out of leading-strings now, and madam, I'll manage you, damn me if--I--do--not! [_Exit Sir Willoughby._

_Helen_ (_to Lady W._) You hear papa's _will_ on that head, ma'am.

_Lady W._ I hear nothing!--I see nothing!--I shall go mad with vexation and disappointment, and if I do not break his resolution, I am determined to break his heart; and my _own_ heart, and _your_ heart, and the hearts of all the rest of the family. [_Exit._

_Helen._ There she goes, with a laudable matrimonial resolution. Heigho! with such an example before my eyes, I believe I shall never have resolution to die an old maid. Oh, Charles, Charles--why did you take me at my word!--Bless me! sure I saw him then--'tis he indeed! So, my gentleman, are you there? I'll just retire and watch his motions a little (_retires._)

_Enter Charles Austencourt, cautiously._

_Charles._ What a pretty state am I reduced to? though I am resolved to speak with this ungrateful girl but once more before I leave her for ever; here am I, skulking under the enemy's batteries as though I was afraid of an encounter!--Yes, I'll see her, upbraid her, and then leave her for ever! heigho! she's a false, deceitful--dear, bewitching girl, and--however, I am resolved that nothing on earth--not even her tears, shall now induce me to forgive her. (_Tiffany crosses the stage._)

_Charles._ Ha!--harkye, young woman! pray are the family at home?

_Tiffany._ My lady is at home, sir--would you please to see her?

_Charles._ Your lady--do you mean your _young_ lady?

_Tiffany._ No, sir, I mean my _lady_.

_Charles._ What, your _old_ lady?--No--I don't wish to see her. Are all the rest of the family from home--

_Tiffany._ No, sir--sir Willoughby is within--I'll tell him you are here. (_going._)

_Charles._ By no means--stay--stay! what then, they are all at home except Miss Helen.

_Tiffany._ She's at home too, sir--but I suppose she don't wish to see you.

_Charles._ _You suppose!_

_Tiffany._ I'm sure she's been in a monstrous ill-humour ever since you came back, sir.

_Charles._ The devil she has!--and pray now are you of opinion that my return is the cause of her ill-humour?

_Tiffany._ Lord, sir--what interest have I in knowing such things?--

_Charles._ Interest!--oh, ho! the old story! why harkye, my dear--your mistress has a lord for her lover, so I suppose he has secured a warmer interest than I can afford to purchase--however, I know the custom, and thus I comply with it, in hopes you will tell me whether you really think my return has caused your young mistress' ill-humour----(_gives money_).

_Tiffany._ A guinea! well! I declare! why really, sir--when I say Miss Helen has been out of humour on your account, I don't mean to say it is on account of your _return_, but on account of your going away again--

_Charles._ No! my dear Tiffany!

_Tiffany._ And I am sure I don't wonder at her being cross about it, for if I was my mistress I never would listen with patience (any more than she does) to such a disagreeable creature as my lord, while such a generous nice gentleman as you was ready to make love to me.

_Charles._ You couldn't?

_Tiffany._ No, sir--and I'm sure she's quite altered and melancholy gone since you quarrelled with her, and she vows now more than ever that she never will consent to marry my lord, or any body but you--(_Helen comes forward gently._)

_Charles._ My dear Tiffany!--let me catch the sounds from your rosy lips. (_Kisses her_)--

_Helen._ (_separating them_) Bless me! I am afraid I interrupt business here!

_Charles._ I--I--I--Upon my soul, Madam--what you saw was--

_Tiffany._ Ye--ye--yes--upon my word, ma'am--what you saw was--

_Helen._ What I saw was very clear indeed!--

_Charles._ Hear me but explain--you do not understand.--

_Helen._ I rather think I _do_ understand.

_Tiffany._ Indeed, Ma'am, Mr. Charles was only _whispering_ something I was to tell you--

_Helen._ And pray, ma'am, do you suffer gentlemen in general to whisper in that fashion?--what do you stand stammering and blushing there for?--why don't you go?

_Tiffany._ Yes, ma'am,--but I assure you--

_Helen._ What! you stay to be whispered to again, I suppose. [_Exit Tiffany._

_Charles._ Let me explain this,--oh, Helen--can you be surprised?

_Helen._ No, sir, I can't be surprised at any thing after what I have just witnessed--

_Charles._ On my soul, it was excess of joy at hearing you still lov'd me, that led me into this confounded scrape.

_Helen._ Sir, you should not believe it--I don't love you. I wont love you,--and after what I have just seen, you can't expect I should love you--

_Charles._ Helen! Helen! you make no allowance for the fears of a man who loves you to distraction. I have borne a great deal, and can bear but very little more--

_Helen._ Poor man! you're sadly loaded with grievances, to be sure; and by and by, I suppose, like a horse or a mule, or some such stubborn animal, having more than you can bear, you'll kick a little, and plunge a little, and then down on your _knees_ again!

_Charles._ I gloried even in that humble posture, while you taught me to believe you loved me.

_Helen._ 'Tis true, my heart was once your own, but I never can, nor ought to forgive you--for thinking me capable of being unfaithful to you.

_Charles._ Dearest dear Helen! and has your anger then no other cause? surely you could not blame a resentment which was the offspring of my fond affection?

_Helen._ No! to be sure I couldn't, who could!--but what should I not have to dread from the violence of your temper, if I consented--to run away with you?

_Charles._ Run away with me!--no!--zounds I've a chaise in waiting--

_Helen._ Have you?--then pray let it wait,--no! no! Charles--though I haven't scrupled to own an affection for you, I have too much respect for the world's opinion,--let us wait with patience,--time may rectify that impetuosity of character, which is now, I own, my dread; think of it, Charles, and beware; for affection is a frail flower, reared by the hand of gentleness, and perishes as surely by the shocks of violence as by the more gradual poison of neglect.

_Charles._ Dearest Helen! I will cherish it in my heart--'tis a _rough_ soil I own, but 'tis a _warm_ one; and when the hand of delicacy shall have cultivated this flower that is rooted there, the blossom shall be everlasting love!

_Helen._ Ah you men!--you men! but--I think I may be induced to try you.--Meantime, accept my hand, dear Charles, as a pledge of my heart, and as the assurance that it shall one day be your own indeed (_he kisses her hand._) There you needn't eat it--there!--now make your escape, and farewell till we meet again.--(_They are going out severally_)

_Enter_ sir Rowland _and_ sir Willoughby, _at opposite sides._

_Charles._ Zounds! my father!

_Helen._ Gad-a-mercy! my papa!

_Sir R._ So, sir! you are here again I find!

_Sir W._ So! so! Madam! together again, hey? sir Rowland, your servant.

_Sir R._ I need not tell you, sir Willoughby, that this undutiful boy's conduct does not meet with my sanction.

_Char._ No! sir Willoughby--I am sorry to say my conduct seldom meets with my father's sanction.

_Sir W._ Why look ye, sir Rowland, there are certain things that we _do_ like, and certain things that we do _not_ like--now sir, to cut the matter short, I do like my daughter to marry, but I do not like either your son or your nephew for her husband.

_Sir R._ This is a very sudden _change_, sir Willoughby--

_Sir W._ Yes, sir Rowland, I have made two or three sudden changes to day!--I've changed my resolution--I feel changed myself--for I've changed characters with my wife, and with your leave I mean to change my son-in-law.

_Sir R._ Of course, sir, you will give me a proper explanation of the last of these changes.

_Sir W._ Sir, if you'll meet me presently at your attorney's, the thing will explain itself: this way, young lady if you please--Charles, I believe you are a devilish honest fellow, and I want an honest fellow for a son-in-law--but I think it is rather too much to give twelve thousand a year for him--this way Miss Helen. [_Exit sir Willoughby and Helen._

_Sir R._ This sudden resolution of sir Willoughby will still more exasperate him--I must seek him instantly, for the crisis of my fate is at hand; my own heart is witness against me--Heaven is my judge, and I have deserved my punishment! [_Exit sir R._

_Char._ So! I'm much mistaken, or there'll be a glorious bustle presently at the old lawyer's--He has sent to beg I'll attend, and as my heart is a little at rest in this quarter, I'll e'en see what's going forward in _that_--whether his intention be to _expose_ or to _abet_ a villain, still I'll be one amongst them; for while I have a heart to feel and a hand to act, I can never be an idle spectator when insulted virtue raises her supplicating voice on one side, and persecution dares to lift his unblushing head on the other. [_Exit._