Chapter 3

_A Drawing Room in the Castle, with a Piano Forte, Harp, Music, Bookstand, Sofas, Chairs, Tables, &c._

_Enter SOLOMON._

_Sol._ Well, for once I think I have the advantage of Madam Haller. Such a dance have I provided to welcome their Excellencies, and she quite out of the the secret! And such a hornpipe by the little Brunette! I'll have a rehearsal first though, and then surprise their honours after dinner.

[_Flourish of rural music without._

_Pet._ [_Without._] Stop; not yet, not yet: but make way there, make way, my good friends, tenants, and villagers.--John! George! Frederick! Good friends, make way.

_Sol._ It is not the Count: it's only Baron Steinfort. Stand back, I say; and stop the music!

_Enter BARON STEINFORT, ushered in by PETER and FOOTMEN. PETER mimicks and apes his father._

_Sol._ I have the honour to introduce to your lordship myself, Mr. Solomon, who blesses the hour in which fortune allows him to become acquainted with the Honourable Baron Steinfort, brother-in-law of his Right Honourable Excellency Count Wintersen, my noble master.

_Pet._ Bless our noble master!

_Bar._ Old and young, I see they'll allow me no peace. [_Aside._] Enough, enough, good Mr. Solomon. I am a soldier. I pay but few compliments, and require as few from others.

_Sol._ I beg, my lord--We do live in the country to be sure, but we are acquainted with the reverence due to exalted personages.

_Pet._ Yes--We are acquainted with exalted personages.

_Bar._ What is to become of me?--Well, well, I hope we shall be better acquainted. You must know, Mr. Solomon, I intend to assist, for a couple of months at least, in attacking the well stocked cellars of Wintersen.

_Sol._ Why not whole years, my lord?--Inexpressible would be the satisfaction of your humble servant. And, though I say it, well stocked indeed are our cellars. I have, in every respect, here managed matters in so frugal and provident a way, that his Right Honourable Excellency the Count, will be astonished. [_BARON yawns._] Extremely sorry it is not in my power to entertain your lordship.

_Pet._ Extremely sorry.

_Sol._ Where can Mrs. Haller have hid herself?

_Bar._ Mrs. Haller! who is she?

_Sol._ Why, who she is, I can't exactly tell your lordship.

_Pet._ No, nor I.

_Sol._ None of my correspondents give any account of her. She is here in the capacity of a kind of a superior housekeeper. Methinks, I hear her silver voice upon the stairs. I will have the honour of sending her to your lordship in an instant.

_Bar._ Oh! don't trouble yourself.

_Sol._ No trouble whatever! I remain, at all times, your honourable lordship's most obedient, humble, and devoted servant. [_Exit, bowing._

_Pet._ Devoted servant. [_Exit, bowing._

_Bar._ Now for a fresh plague. Now am I to be tormented by some chattering old ugly hag, till I am stunned with her noise and officious hospitality. Oh, patience! what a virtue art thou!

_Enter MRS. HALLER, with a becoming curtsey. BARON rises, and returns a bow, in confusion._

[_Aside._] No, old she is not. [_Casts another glance at her._] No, by Jove, nor ugly.

_Mrs. H._ I rejoice, my lord, in thus becoming acquainted with the brother of my benefactress.

_Bar._ Madam, that title shall be doubly valuable to me, since it gives me an introduction equally to be rejoiced at.

_Mrs. H._ [_Without attending to the compliment._] This lovely weather, then, has enticed the Count from the city?

_Bar._ Not exactly that. You know him. Sunshine or clouds are to him alike, as long as eternal summer reigns in his own heart and family.

_Mrs. H._ The Count possesses a most cheerful and amiable philosophy. Ever in the same happy humour; ever enjoying each minute of his life. But you must confess, my lord, that he is a favourite child of fortune, and has much to be grateful to her for. Not merely because she has given him birth and riches, but for a native sweetness of temper, never to be acquired; and a graceful suavity of manners, whose school must be the mind. And, need I enumerate among fortune's favours, the hand and affections of your accomplished sister?

_Bar._ [_More and more struck as her understanding opens upon him._] True, madam. My good easy brother, too, seems fully sensible of his happiness, and is resolved to retain it. He has quitted the service to live here. I am yet afraid he may soon grow weary of Wintersen and retirement.

_Mrs. H._ I should trust not. They, who bear a cheerful and unreproaching conscience into solitude, surely must increase the measure of their own enjoyments. They quit the poor, precarious, the dependent pleasures, which they borrowed from the world, to draw a real bliss from that exhaustless source of true delight, the fountain of a pure unsullied heart.

_Bar._ Has retirement long possessed so lovely an advocate?

_Mrs. H._ I have lived here three years.

_Bar._ And never felt a secret wish for the society you left, and must have adorned?

_Mrs. H._ Never.

_Bar._ To feel thus belongs either to a very rough or a very polished soul. The first sight convinced me in which class I am to place you.

_Mrs. H._ [_With a sigh._] There may, perhaps, be a third class.

_Bar._ Indeed, madam, I wish not to be thought forward; but women always seemed to me less calculated for retirement than men. We have a thousand employments, a thousand amusements, which you have not.

_Mrs. H._ Dare I ask what they are?

_Bar._ We ride--we hunt--we play--read--write.--

_Mrs. H._ The noble employments of the chase, and the still more noble employment of play, I grant you.

_Bar._ Nay, but dare I ask what are your employments for a day?

_Mrs. H._ Oh, my lord! you cannot imagine how quickly time passes when a certain uniformity guides the minutes of our life. How often do I ask, "Is Saturday come again so soon?" On a bright cheerful morning, my books and breakfast are carried out upon the grass plot. Then is the sweet picture of reviving industry and eager innocence always new to me. The birds' notes so often heard, still waken new ideas: the herds are led into the fields: the peasant bends his eye upon his plough. Every thing lives and moves; and in every creature's mind it seems as it were morning. Towards evening I begin to roam abroad: from the park into the meadows. And sometimes, returning, I pause to look at the village boys and girls as they play. Then do I bless their innocence, and pray to Heaven, those laughing, thoughtless hours, could be their lot for ever.

_Bar._ This is excellent!--But these are summer amusements.--The winter! the winter!

_Mrs. H._ Why for ever picture winter like old age, torpid, tedious, and uncheerful? Winter has its own delights: this is the time to instruct and mend the mind by reading and reflection. At this season, too, I often take my harp, and amuse myself by playing or singing the little favourite airs that remind me of the past, or solicit hope for the future.

_Bar._ Happy indeed are they who can thus create, and vary their own pleasures and employments.

_Enter PETER._

_Pet._ Well--well--Pray now--I was ordered--I can keep him back no longer--He will come in.

_Enter TOBIAS, forcing his way._

_Tob._ I must, good Heaven, I must!

_Mrs. H._ [_Confused._] I have no time at present--I--I--You see I am not alone.

_Tob._ Oh! this good gentleman will forgive me.

_Bar._ What do you want?

_Tob._ To return thanks. Even charity is a burden if one may not be grateful for it.

_Mrs. H._ To-morrow, good Tobias; to-morrow.

_Bar._ Nay, no false delicacy, madam. Allow him to vent the feelings of his heart; and permit me to witness a scene which convinces me, even more powerfully than your conversation, how nobly you employ your time. Speak, old man.

_Tob._ Oh, lady, that each word which drops from my lips, might call down a blessing on your head! I lay forsaken and dying in my hut: not even bread nor hope remained. Oh! then you came in the form of an angel, brought medicines to me; and your sweet consoling voice did more than those. I am recovered. To-day, for the first time, I have returned thanks in presence of the sun: and now I come to you, noble lady. Let me drop my tears upon your charitable hand. For your sake, Heaven has blessed my latter days. The Stranger too, who lives near me, has given me a purse of gold to buy my son's release. I am on my way to the city: I shall purchase my Robert's release. Then I shall have an honest daughter-in-law. And you, if ever after that you pass our happy cottage, oh! what must you feel when you say to yourself, "This is my work!"

_Mrs. H._ [_In a tone of entreaty._] Enough, Tobias; enough!

_Tob._ I beg pardon! I cannot utter what is breathing in my breast. There is One, who knows it. May His blessing and your own heart reward you.

[_Exit, PETER following. MRS. HALLER casts her eyes upon the ground, and contends against the confusion of an exalted soul, when surprised in a good action. The BARON stands opposite to her, and from time to time casts a glance at her, in which his heart is swimming._

_Mrs. H._ [_Endeavouring to bring about a conversation._] I suppose, my lord, we may expect the Count and Countess every moment now?

_Bar._ Not just yet, madam. He travels at his leisure. I am selfish, perhaps, in not being anxious for his speed: the delay has procured me a delight which I never shall forget.

_Mrs. H._ [_Smiling._] You satirise mankind, my lord.

_Bar._ How so?

_Mrs. H._ In supposing such scenes to be uncommon.

_Bar._ I confess I was little prepared for such an acquaintance as yourself: I am extremely surprised. When Solomon told me your name and situation, how could I suppose that--Pardon my curiosity: You have been, or are married?

_Mrs. H._ [_Suddenly sinking from her cheerful raillery into mournful gloom._] I have been married, my lord.

_Bar._ [_Whose enquiries evince his curiosity, yet are restrained within the bounds of the nicest respect._] A widow, then?

_Mrs. H._ I beseech you--There are strings in the human heart, which touched, will sometimes utter dreadful discord--I beseech you--

_Bar._ I understand you. I see you know how to conceal every thing except your perfections.

_Mrs. H._ My perfections, alas!--[_Rural music without._] But I hear the happy tenantry announce the Count's arrival. Your pardon, my lord; I must attend them. [_Exit._

_Bar._ Excellent creature!--What is she, and what can be her history? I must seek my sister instantly. How strong and how sudden is the interest I feel for her! But it is a feeling I ought to check. And yet, why so? Whatever are the emotions she has inspired, I am sure they arise from the perfections of her mind: and never shall they be met with unworthiness in mine. [_Exit._