ACT. IV.

SCENE I.—An Apartment in Solace's house.

Enter SOLACE,

Solace.

it be all over! all in vain !-She be lost-for ever lost to him who would have died before he would have caused her such vexation.-What shall I do? I'll sit that I have not patience for.-I'll walk --that I've not strength for.-I'll drown my cares in wine-No, hang it, I did try that once, and tho' I did toss down so many bottles that they did say I might be prosecuted for moving wine without a permit, yet I did only find that a fixed heart-ach were not cured by clapping a great head-ach at the top of it.

Enter Sir ARTHUR ST. ALBYN.

Sir Arthur! at last to visit an old servant.- Come, this be somewhat like-A chair, take a chair, Sir Arthur.

Sir Arth. What, still so humble! though vested with authority? still ready to obey and to oblige

me?

Sol. Ay, from my heart, Sir Arthur.

Sir Arth. Indeed! then to the trial-Mr. Danvers -my friend-acknowledge him to be your master. (Solace turns away. What! I can have no partner but Selina's husband!

but

but he, who, by this last dishonourable act---well, well! that's nothing---a father's injuries are not worth thinking of

Sol. Nay, sir,---dishonourable!

Sir Arth. Ay sir, to me,--Selina, and to one, who, though he cannot feel my trifling wrongs, may chance to sympathize for others.---Hear me !---There lived in this neighbourhood, a poor orphan girl, who, to reward a benefactor's kindness, had promised him her hand; but he perceiving that she loved another, gave up the treasure that he yet so coveted, and, to say truth, most nobly left her to her own free choice.

Sol. (Agitated) He!-whom?

Sir Arth. (Laying hold of him, and proceeding rapidly.) The lover she preferred, had secretly been married, and to complete the catalogue of guilt, false to his friend, his mistress, and his wife! he lures his orphan from her home; he, he whom you uphold, is the betrayer of your promised bride!

(Solace violently agitated.) And, now, whilst thus you feel these, your own wrongs, think what that father must have borne, who here renouncing nature's strongest ties, not only scorns to cloak, or deprecate his crimes, but, for the sake of justice and example, comes forth to shame, and to expose him.

Sol. (After a pause.) Have you done?--I do only ask, because, if there be any thing more, I be quite prepared, quite, he he! (trying to force a laugh.) Thee hast been told this by some enemy. Sir Arth. (Haughtily.) By Mr. Danvers, sir! Sol. By him! I can laugh freely now-ha! ha! my oath upon his innocence!

Sir Arth. What! think you that, without unanswerable proof, a father thus would criminate a son, or court an office so ungracious?—No, I now hate, bécause I once so loved,-and if reduced to

publish

publish his disgrace, judge of my triumph, could I say with you, my oath upon his innocence ! Sol. Say it!-do, pray say it.

Sir Arth. His mother, 'ere she died, wished him, her image, to supply her loss, and for a time that wish was realized; but when I plunged in fashion's giddy maze, he turned my thoughtless folly to account, and poisoning my late brother's mind, the die is cast!-his guilt is every where apparent and my Lord Blushdale, Mrs. Dorville's friend, will prove it past all doubt. (Going) You know where he resides.

Sol. I do; and know, beside, his Lordship's word be law with Cicely's governess.-A thousand times I have heard her say so,-dang it! I cannot stand these ups and downs!-The worst!-the worst!

Sir Arth. Nay, hear it from the man, whose word is law;-mine is distrusted! But mark me, sir-when your friend's treachery is amply proved, I shall expect that mine has his reward, and grateful for the power bequeathed you by my father, that one St. Albyn may maintain his honour-[ claim it, demand it. And, confident you'll chuse as I direct, I leave you, till we meet for acts of justice, and of gratitude.

[Exit.

Sol. (Pausing, and looking round.) It be a cold night very, very cold! And the wind do come so cutting through the crevices---" Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer!" (trying to sing) "la de da di d- -" (running the note, till it ends in his crying) Oh! for a happy man, I wonder who be half so miserable! Thousands! thousands! be still worse off than I be, even now.---And what of that? Can I glean comfort from the pain of others? No! if I could, I wish this cutting feel might last for ever. However, I will hear it from the fountainhead.---No second-hand reports---Lord Blushdale

shall

shall himself convince me,---and, then, when things be at the worst, why then--

Enter SELINA.

Sel. So, Mr. Solace---I see you hav'n't found poor Cicely---not heard one word of her and her betrayer?--- Dear, dear, who could have had the heart to cause such misery?

Sol. Who! who! (pulls out his watch) It be latequite late-and I've forgot to see the works be safe ---to mind that all be right without (putting his hand on his breast) I'll not be long---for come what may, I will not turn my back on those that need man's best support,---Yet, stop---thee said'st thy---my--thee said'st that Mr. Algernon would arrive to-mor

row.

Sel. He will;--it is the day he comes of age--and that's the secret that has thus detained him.

Sol. Indeed! pray heaven! that thee art right.

Sel. I'm sure he has no other motive; and when to-morrow shall arrive, perhaps you'll find I also may divulge a secret! Till then, though you have failed in the pursuit, confide with me, in the kind, generous Mr. Modern's zeal.

Sol. (After a struggle) I will---I'll still be confident. A common mind can fight 'gainst common griefs; but when the sea do, mountainlike, run high, it can be weathered but by hearts of oak---I'm one---I'm rous'd !---And, at the worst, I can gain happiness, by guarding thine.---I'll not he long, Mrs. St. Albyn.---Care has'n't yet quite got the better of me---no, I'll still fight it! gone dull care." (Singing.)

"Be

[Exeunt {

Selina.

Solace.

SCENE

SCENE II.-An Apartment in LORD BLUS DALE'S Villa-a Door in the centre of the Flat,-and Lord B.'s Picture hanging over it--Guns, Fishing-rods, &c. on each side-the Wings placed diagonally, and a Door in each of them-Table, with Pens, Ink, and Paper upon it.

LORD BLUSHDALE discovered asleep in his Arm-chair.

Lord B. (Waking and rubbing his eyes.) Aw, aw! where am I? still in my arm-chair.-Oh, I recollect, Geoffery cou'dn't unlock the bed-room door. And I, no doubt, dropped off whilst he was prattling. Well, well, it is enough to wake to such a calm, delicious scene. No letters from lord-loving sycophants. No notes from gala-giving ladies, who are the worst by far;-for titles are so wanted at assemblies, that peers might be better feed for attending hot rooms, than physicians are for visiting sick ones. And then, the women do so coax, and call me a sweet, charming-pooh! nonsense! However, they can't catch me here. (Noise of unlocking doors in back scene.) Listen.-Old Geoffery's poking at the door, though I desired he would not disturb me. He can't be quiet, till he knows why I left London. (Noise again.) Again! Why, no! it is, the bed-room door! It opens! Somebody's been hid there! Dam' it! bolts, cottages, concealment,—nothing can save me from their active fury! (Standing aside.)

CICELY opens Chamber-door in back scene, and enters.

Cicely. Surely I heard a voice! Friend! friend! (In a half whisper.) No! 'twas but fancy—and I'll return and wait till I'm called-and then, if possible,

---oh