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terfly pody-says he, “ Aw! Aw! dem'me! I always go uninvited to married people's houses; for man and wife never speak—and, therefore, each supposes the other has asked you--aw-aw-dem'me.” Oh! 'cis fad work-fad work.
Leonard. Disgusting sight! Lavish his fortune on a defpicable set, who, if he died to-morrow
Sbenkin. Died! tear! tear! they do never know when one another die, never: For inteed, and upon my life, my Lady did send me with cards of invitation to her friend Captain Humdrum the whole winter long. And she would have gone on till now, only the widow did call one day, returned Lady Melmoth thanks for her many polite invitations, and extremely regretted it was not in the Captain's power to accept them, as he was buried fix months before in St. Anne's church-yard. But look you I do forget my message—Sir Herbert do wait for you about cutting off your tail, you do know.
Leonard. I will see more before I come I would observe this lady Melmoth. (More music.)
Ender Lady Melmoth and Georgiana. Lady M. Come, Mr. Leonard, why stand frowning there? Why don't you join in our pleasures?
Leonard. Simply, Madanı, because I take no pleasure in them.
Lady M. Indeed! Why now, perhaps, if I were to think a good deal, that might be my case also-but no--one dare not be old fashioned, you know.
Leonard. I dare, madam. I can prefer real happiness to artificial pleasure.--I do not game, because it don't pleale me-l do not drink from the self-fame motiveand I am not extravagant, because I feel more gratification at paying the tradelinen who supply my table, than in entertaining a million of fycophants around it.
Lady M. Nay, now you are too severe, Mr. Leonard. One must keep up appearances; and, if now and
then one didn't entertain sumptuously, the world would call one selfish, prudent
Leonard. Let them call you so. Who can be honeft that is not prudent? Ay, you may fmile; but whilst I am prudent, I can (mile too ;- and I hope there are still thinking beings in the world, who will not call me narrow hearted because I am not expensive, or a hypo. crite because I am not a profligate.
Lady M. Come, Georgiana, let us go to the ball room. I dare say I ought to reflect on all this; but re, fection produces vexation, and vexation hurts the complexion, and so---you had better follow, Mr, Leonard.
Leonard. No, Madam, I can stay alone.
Lady M. Adieu, then; and I wish you much pleasure from your company (going, returns). Oh, I forgotif you see Sir Herbert, do tell him to make hafte with those tiresome parchments; for I want to pay Mr. Malcour two or three hundred pounds I've just lost to him at piquêtte. I also want money for Caslino, and a thousand things. Adieu! You had better follow, Mr. Leonard,
[Exit. Georgiana. Now, are you satisfied ?
Leonard. I am;---to sign will ruin, not relieve himn! And yet-look there it is my father comes! Alas! my heart is so entwined with his he has been so kind a parent-lo fincere a friend
Georgiana. How! ftill irresolute! (takes his band) for his sake! for your own! Nay, for my thoughtless cousin's here, who is not, now, the mistress of her reason ;-Oh, then, for mine! I have a strong and secret motive here---and if I ask it as the first request
Leonard (presling ber hand). 'Tis granted—'tis unalterable--your wilhes triumph over his.
[Exit Georgiana at the back scene, and
Enter Sir Herbert from the wing. Sir Herb. So, Sir, as I thought,-'uis Georgiana keeps you from your duty-'Sdeath! why ítand loitera ing here, when the deeds wait your lignature ? Come, comme, no more delay.
Leonard. Stay, Sir-one word -- when these convey. ances are executed, is there an acre of paternal land left to support you?
Sir Herb. No-but what of that? We've an equivalent in thirty thousand pounds.
Leonard. True ; and, that expended, no resource re. mains.
Sir Herb. None ; you know there is no other.
Leonard. Farewell! Sir-spare me the conflict, pity, and forgive me.
Sir Herb. What! would you sacrifice your father? .. Leonard. No, Sir-I would save my father. Sir Herb. Away ! mean-selfish
Leonard. Selfish! Oh! you should know me better, Sir. Place me at the lighted cannon's mouth, and say my death will ease you of a momentary pang, and I, with joy, will meet it-But, this — what is it you ask me? You bid me forfeit those hereditary claims, which, for whole centuries, have been our family's support, and in old age had ftill been yours and mine—not to relieve you from misfortune-not to expend in honorable uses, such as to cheer the poor, and wipe away the widow's and the orphan's tear-No--but to waste in prodigality, and by indulging an unthinking woman, to ruin her, destroy your son, and in eternal sorrow plunge yourself.
Sir Herb. Have a care, Sir-recollect who you are.
Leonard. Oh! would I could forget! for sure 'tis time, when I am reduced to speak such words to such a fa. ther.-But observe me, Sir-I sign these deeds-the money they produce is lavilh'd on your wife-in a few months 'tis squandered all in vanity and vice--the hour of distress ensues-despair, penury, imprisonment awaits you! And then, when Leonard should come forth and serve you, he too is deftitute and loft! and love which palliates your crime, only increases his--for he beholds you on a precipice--blinded by passion and berest of thought, and has not courage to oppose and save you.
Sir Herb. Peace, I command you, I will hear no more. (in great agitation.)
Leonard. Now mark the other picture (taking bold of bis arm)—I decline the execution-for the first time I dare to disobey you I leave your house - I am despised - disgraced—and your embarrassments commence money cannot be raised without security, and the day of extravagance ceases your wife loses her fashionable friends, she is compellid co domesticate—she reflectsshe sees the comforts of connubial love-lhe repentsyou are beloved and happy-but money is still wanting to ensure that happiness.--You send for Leonard-he fies to meet you—you tell him what has past-tears of joy awhile choak his utterance-he falls at your feet, and exclaims, “ take the estate, the whole is yours, and, , thank heaven! I have preserved it for my father.”Now, Sir, which conduct is most noble ? which is the most worthy of a son ?
Sir Herb. This is all artifice-evasion and I would hail with joy che ills you talk of, rather than be indebted for a moment's safety to an ungrateful, avaricious fon. Begone--return whence you came—and to your country prove your duty, better than you have proved it to
Leonard. Yes~let me go. I still have ample consolation ; for, when next we meet, those frowns will be converted into smiles.--Farewell! farewell! And yet
our parting once was different if I left you for a day, you uled to speak such tender and endearing words.
Sir Herb. Away ! if you wou'd please me, leave me.
Leonard. Well, well. I will obey, and cheerfullyfor if. I stay, I shall relapse, and granс him all he asks. Once more, farewell! —and though your thoughts are all devoted to another object, mine ftill are fix'd upon the same--yes, for myself I care not. But, bless him, heaven ! bless the best of fathers !
[Exit. Sir Herb. 'Tis plain, 'cis evident.-This is the work of Georgiana; they parted as I entered, and with these emphatic words, “ Your wishes triumph over his.” Oh! she would keep the fortune for herself he'd see the lovely Ellen ruin’d-beggar'd! But I will dilip
point her fordid views I'll banish hence all conscientoos fcruples, and give her to the man who offers me that aid my worthless fon denies me.So fall I save myself, and punish her. --Shenkin.
Enter Shenkin. Shenkin. Sir!
dir Herb. Go instantly to the ball-room, and watch Georgiana-prevent her leaving the house.--I suspect she will elope with my
son. Sbenkin. Elope !
Sir Herb. Yes—and therefore this night shall make her another's. And mind, now, whilft I go myself for Dr. Infallible, do you take care she don't escape. Mind, and be wary.-Oh! now comes my triumph.
(Exit Shenkin. Pless my soul! I do think I will elope myself, for inteed, 'is time to go out of the house, now the tevil has got into it. Tear! tear! watch Miss Georgiana-turn 1py-gaoler! Yes, I will watch her, but it fhall be to assist, not to oppress her ;--and then, look you-good b'w'ye, Sir Herbert. I will not disgrace my ancestors, tho' you do yours--10-I will go home to my poor mother, and tell her I've not only maintain'd the pride of pedigree, but, what is dearer to us both, the pride of conscience and of virtue.
SCENE 111.- An Apartment at Sir Herbert's.
Folding Doors in fiat.
Curftor. So the hour's out--the time allowed by these bloody-minded seconds is expired, and I must return to be shot in chat room, or submit to be posted and disgraced. Zounds! I offered fair enough--either to take or to make an apology ;-or, if that wou'dn't do, I offered to fight him at forty yards. But no, nothing will satisfy there savages.