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his person, that if he peeps but through a window, the women shall all blush, and say,—" Oh ! are you there, you naughty, wicked Tarquin ?—But, the first savour first. {Going to sit down again.) So. here I sit, till you promise to befriend Mrs. St. Albyn.

Lord B. I)on't,---don't sit—I'll promise any thing, every thing—frank the letters ! befriend St. Albyn—nay, grant a thousand favours more, so you will only leave me to myself!

Mod. As I expected,—and I'm gone.—And, now had I followed the old hacknied plan, and fawned and bowed, and been agreeable, you would have only bowed me out, and fretted at the interruption; but I have been so very disagreeable, that you can't rest, till I am satisfied, and feel quite happy at my leaving you.

Lord B. I do, upon my honour, and—(pointing to the door.)

Mod. My Lord, I'm yours—and I've no fear that you'll forget your promise; but if you do, there's no harm done —we'll only have another merry meeting, and part as we do now, delighting and delighted!

Lord B. We will, we will.

[Exit Modern, (Immediately Cicely appears at the door.)

Lord B. And now for more delighting—(turns and sees Cicely.) Cicely. (Advances towards him.) My Lord!

Lord B. Madam!

Cicely. I've heard what's past; and, as I guess, your good old servant has'n't yet explained that I came here for shelter, and for safety,—but still I have no fear—with confidence I throw myself upon your Lordship's generosity, convinced you will extend to me that kind, obliging-

Lord B. Madam, I'm not obliging—I'm cross— ill-natured—and I'll not only thank you to think so

yourself, yourself, but to go and tell every body else so.— Go, madam-—

Cicely. What! I'm despised—deserted—{kneeling) My Lord, you see before you a poor, persecuted girl, wronged, but still innocent! who has eloped, not only to protect herself, but to preserve the happiness of others .' Return, I cannot—-ne'er will I involve the virtuous with the guilty.—And you, who are so famed for purity and honour, must feel delighted to support my just, but irksome, resolution.

Lord B. I do not.—I feel delighted to support nobody.

Cicely. I ask not an asylum here, it is too near the scene that I have shunned.—I only ask that you'll fulfil those hopes your kind domestic has excited.—Your London mansion !—let me be sheltered there! and life will be too short to pay my debt of gratitude and love!

LordB. {Turning away) Psha! you, and this busy old Deborah—

Cicely. {Pulling him towards her) Nay,—in your service,—by another name,—I never shall be traced—and you !—suspicion cannot light on you !—Or, if, by chance it should, I'll beg, starve, perish, ere I'll bring disgrace on my exalted, kind, protector {Holding him by the hand, and kissing it.)

Enter Geoffery.

Geoff. Mr. Solace, my lord—Oh, ho!

[Exit. (Cicely starts up, and in her agitation, drops her

shawl, without perceiving it.) Lord B. Confound the whole eternal scene! Stop—come back.

Re-enter Re-enter Geoffery.

One plague I'll instantly get rid of-—Madam, I grant what yon require.-—My name will be your passport-—and you, sir, conduct this female through the private path that leads into the London road— and, (Cicely runs to thank him J nay, nay, your gratitude when next we meet—and that, I'll warrant, won't be soon.—Go, don't stand staring, blockhead! Quick! (stamping) Begone!

[Geoffery, all fright and astonishment, exit with Cicely. So, since locks won't serve, I'll try if strength will keep them out—Colossus-like, I'll stand against the doof.

Enter Solace.

Sol. My Lord, I do hope no offence; but you if servant not coming to shew me up, I have taken the liberty to shew myself up—and I don't see him—where be he, my Lord?

LordB. What's that to you?—and who the devil are you?

Sel. My name be Solace, and I do come, for your Lordship to make me, what you seem to be yourself-—quite vexed and unhappy like.

LordB. Sir Arthur's foreman! Sit down—I'll instantly make you unhappy.

Sol. Thank thee; but there be no hurry; if it were any thing pleasant, the sooner the better; but to be told that one be thus misused by those that I did love, and cherish as my own children— dang it;—if I could think, as Mr. Modern thinks,— what charming consolation!

Lord B. Why, what does Mr. Modern think, Slv?'

Sot. '. Sol. Why, I did just now meet him, and, saving your presence, he do think that, like some other London lordly folk, you be, at heart, quite gay and sly, and not to be depended on! But 1, alack! know better—and, therefore, only let your lordship take your time,—for I sha'n't instantly be made unhappy.

Lord B. Very likely; but when I prove Sf. Albyn's falsehood, will you accept my nephew asyour master?

Sol. Now—this moment I will do justice to Sir Arthur and your nephew—for, lest the memory of past affections should some time hence incline me to relapse, look—(shewing an agreement) this deed, once signed by me, do give a stranger that control which, 'twere the object of my life, that none but a St. Albyu should inherit, but that be past—yet, no—it be not past.—The proof! the proof! *

Lord B. What brought him, every autumn, to your cottage? What has so long detained him from his wife? Why was he caught in base, clandestine meetings ?—And if you doubt that Mrs. Dorville told me, upon the honour of an English peer—

Sol. No more,—I'll hear no more.—And all the consolation that Fve left, be, that I've power to resent such villany! I'll sign directly !—Give me the means.

Lord B. Here! (pointing to the table.)

Sol. Now for my own, his wife's, his father's wrongs! (Going towards table, he treads on the shawl.) Why, what be here? part of a woman's dress! So—be'st thee, then, gay and sly ?—And, now 1 look again—Heavens !—speak—who, who do this belong to?

Lord B. Who !—why to—curse me, if I know who any thing belongs to.

Sol. I know too well—it do belong to her, who, by your statement, be now with Algernon St. Albyn

E 2 —1 know —I know it be Cicely's.—And if, after all, it prove that thee, Lord Blashdale, have taken such advantage of thy title, as to snare her, and to corrupt this governess, why I will have no master, but that son, who be so much ennobled in his heart, that, to high birth, he adds the higher rank of proud integrity and honour. So, Sir, I'll search the house.

Lord. B. Do—that's what I wish—I'll go with you.

Sol. So confident?

Lord B. I am:—enough—come on. (Taking his arm and pulling him hastily, lozcards the wing. J

Enter Geoffeby, hastily, meeting them.

Geoff. Oh, my Lord, I've put the young woman in the private path, and she's gone to your London house—and she'll change her name, and she'll be all love, and—(seeing Solace) Oh ho! are you there?

(Lord B. stamping, violently and going to seize Geoffery who avoids him.)

Lord B. Fire! Jury!

Sol. Yes, I am here, and so are you, and the mild, modest Earl of Blushdale—Shew me down stairs, and quick, lest the roof fall—Gone to your London house-, and changed her name!

(Lord B. tries to speak) Nay, nay, my Lord—I want no further explanation.

Lord B. But I do, and I will have it. Stay I insist.

Sol. Stay in such company! Lead on, Sir! (to Geoffery, who opens the door.) Oh 1 were I a lord !—

Lord B. Oh! I wish you were! Hear me! Zounds! I will—I will be heard'




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