Chapter 8

_and_ William _meeting him, the latter delivers a letter._

_Will._ The gentleman desired me to say he is below, sir.

_Sir W._ Hey! (_reads_) "My dear Worret, I hope that a long absence from my native land has not obliterated the recollection of our friendship. I have thought it right to adopt this method of announcing my return, lest my too sudden appearance should hurt _your_ feelings, by deranging the _delicate nerves_ of your _amiable lady_" Hey!

"Ever yours, "FREDERICK FALKNER."

Bless my soul! Falkner alive? show the gentleman up.

_Will._ He's here, sir.

_Enter_ Falkner.

_Falk._ My old friend, I rejoice to see you.

_Sir W._ Friend Falkner, I shan't attempt to say how welcome your return is. We all thought you dead and buried. Where have you been all these years?

_Falk._ A wanderer. Let that suffice.

_Sir W._ I see you still retain your old antipathy to answering questions, so I shall ask none--Have you been in France, or among the savages? Hey! I remember you had a daughter at school--is she alive? is she merry or miserable? Is she married?

_Falk._ Zounds what a medley! France and savages! marriage and misery!

_Sir W._ Ods life, I'm happy to see you! I haven't been so cheerful or happy for many a day.

_Falk._ How's your wife?

_Sir W._ Hey! thank ye, sir! why that excellent good woman is in high health, in astonishing health! by my troth I speak it with unspeakable joy, I think she's a better life now than she was when I married her! (_in a melancholy tone._)

_Falk._ That must be a source of _vast comfort_ to you. I don't wonder at your being so cheerful and happy.

_Sir W._ True--but it isn't _that_--that is, not altogether so: no, 'tis that I once more hold my friend Falkner by the hand, and that my daughter--you remember your little favourite Helen--

_Falkner._ I do indeed!

_Sir W._ You are arrived at a critical moment: I mean shortly to marry her--

_Falkner._ I forbid the banns!

_Sir W._ The devil you do!

_Falkner._ Pshaw! (_aside_) my feelings o'erstep my discretion. Take care what you're about--If you're an honest man, you'd rather see her dead than married to a villain.

_Sir W._ To be sure I would; but the man I mean her to marry--

_Falkner._ Perhaps will never be her husband.

_Sir W._ The devil he wont! why not?

_Falkner._ Talk of something else--you know I was always an eccentric being--

_Sir W._ What the devil does he mean? yes, yes you was always eccentric; but do you know--

_Falkner._ I know more than I wish to know; I've lived long enough in the world to know that roguery fattens on the same soil where honesty starves; and I care little whether time adds to information which opens to me more and more the depravity of human nature.

_Sir W._ Why, Falkner, you are grown more a misanthrope than ever.

_Falkner._ You know well enough I have had my vexations in life; in an early stage of it I married--

_Sir W._ Every man has his trials!

_Falkner._ About two years afterwards I lost my wife.

_Sir W._ That was a heavy misfortune! however you bore it with fortitude.

_Falkner._ I bore it easily; my wife was a woman without feelings: she had not energy for great virtue, and she had no vice, because she had no passion: life with her was a state of stagnation.

_Sir W._ How different are the fates of men!

_Falkner._ In the next instance, I had a friend whom I would have trusted with my life--with more--my honour--I need not tell you then I thought him the first of human beings; but I was mistaken--he understood my character no better than I knew his: he confided to me a transaction which proved him to be a villain, and I commanded him never to see me more.

_Sir W._ Bless me! what was that transaction?

_Falkner._ It was a secret, and has remained so. Though I should have liked to hang the fellow, he had trusted me, and no living creature but himself and me at this day is possessed of it.

_Sir W._ Strange indeed; and what became of him.

_Falkner._ I have not seen him since, but I shall see him in a few hours.

_Sir W._ Indeed, is he in this neighbourhood?

_Falkner._ That circumstance of my friend, and a loss in the West Indies, which shook the fabric of my fortune to its foundation, drove me from the world--I am now returned to it with better prospects--my property, which I then thought lost, is doubled--circumstances have called me hither on an important errand, and before we are four and twenty hours older, you may see some changes which will make you doubt your own senses for the remainder of your days--

_Sir W._ You astonish me mightily.

_Falkner._ Yes, you stare as if you were astonished: but why do I stay chattering here? I must be gone.

_Sir. W._ Nay, pr'ythee now--

_Falkner._ Pshaw! I have paid my first visit to you, because you are the first in my esteem: don't weaken it by awkward and unseasonable ceremony--I must now about the business that brings me here: no interruption, if you wish to see me again let me have my own way, and I may, perhaps, be back in half an hour.

_Sir W._ But I want to tell you that--

_Falkner._ I know--I know--you want to prove to me that you are the least talker, and the best husband in the county: but both secrets must keep till my return, when I shall be happy to congratulate you--and so farewell-- [_Exit._

_Sir W._ Bless my soul! what can he mean? 'I forbid the banns'--'lost my wife'--'horrid transaction'--'back again in half an hour'--dear me--John--Thomas! lady Worret! Helen! [_Exit._