Burgoyne John
The Heiress; a comedy, in five acts
SCENE II
Sir Clement Flint's House.
Enter Lord Gayville and Sir Clement
Lord G. I am resolved to see Miss Alscrip no more.
Sir C. And I hope you are prepared with arguments to justify the cause of this breach, to me, and to the world.
Lord G. For my reconciliation with you, I hope your former partiality will return to my aid; and as for the world, I despise it. The multitude look at happiness through the false glare of wealth and pomp: I have discovered it, though yet at a distance, through the only true medium, that of mutual affection.
Sir C. No common place book, formed from a whole library of plays and novels, could furnish a better sentence. Your folly would shame a school-boy – even of the last age – In the present, he learns the world with his grammar, and gets a just notion of the worthlessness of the other sex, before he is of an age to be duped by their attractions.
Lord G. Sir, your prejudices —
Sir C. My prejudices? – will you appeal to Clifford – here he comes – your friend – your other self.
Enter Clifford
Lord G. And will Clifford condemn the choice of the heart?
Cliff. Never, my lord, when justly placed – In the case I perceive you are arguing, I am ready to blush for you – nay, don't look grave – I am acquainted with your enchantress.
Lord G. You acquainted with her?
Cliff. Yes; and, if I don't deceive myself, shall make her break her own spell. I am in correspondence with her.
Lord G. You in correspondence with Miss Alton! – when? where? What am I to think of this?
Cliff. My dear lord, that she is the most arrant coquette, the most accomplished jilt, the most ready trafficker of her charms —
Lord G. Phrensy and profanation!
Sir C. Come, Gayville, I'll be plain with you; you have sillily let the girl raise her price upon you – but, if nothing else will satisfy you, e'en pay it, and have done with her.
Lord G. Sir, her price is an unadulterated heart: I am afraid we cannot pay it betwixt us.
Enter Chignon; he delivers a Letter to Clifford, apart
Chignon. Alerte, monsieur, I repete your word – Mademoiselle Alton be all your own.
Sir C. Come, Clifford, the contents: his lordship braves the trial.
Lord G. What is this mighty scheme! and what is that paper to discover?
Cliff. [Breaking open the Letter.] Your lordship shall be informed word for word. [Upon first sight of the Contents he shows the utmost emotion.] Amazement! do I dream! can it be? who wrote this letter?
Sir C. Oh! speak out, monsieur, we are all friends.
Chignon. De true Mademoiselle Alton, whom you charge me to give your letter – she open it – she turn pale – den red – den confuse – den kiss your name – den write, and bid me fly.
Lord G. Confusion on confusion, what does all this mean? explain.
Cliff. You must pardon me, I am disconcerted – confounded – thunderstruck – This letter is indeed of a different nature, from that I expected – I am more interested in Miss Alton's fate than your lordship – my perplexity is not to be endured; friend, come with me instantly.
[Exeunt Clifford and Chignon.
Lord G. Mystery and torture! what am I to collect from this? He interested in the fate of Miss Alton? he her former acquaintance?
Sir C. Why not – and her dupe also?
Enter a Servant
Serv. Is Mr. Clifford gone, sir?
Lord G. [Impatiently.] Who wants him?
Serv. A chairman with a letter, he will not deliver to a servant.
Sir C. Call the fellow in. [Exit Servant.] Who knows but he may help us in our difficulties?
Chairman brought in, with a Letter in his Hand
Lord G. [Still impatiently.] Whom did you bring that letter from?
Chairman. Please your honour, I don't know; passing through the square, a sash flew up, and down came this letter and half a crown upon my head. It could not have fallen better, there's not a fellow in town more handy than I am, nor, though I say it more cute at private business – So I resolved to deliver it safely – Is your honour's name Clifford?
Lord G. No, indeed, friend, I am not so happy a man.
Sir C. [Aside.] That letter must not be lost though. Here, my friend – I'll take charge of your letter. [Takes the Letter.] Something for your pains.
Chairman. God bless your honour, and if you want to send an answer, my number is forty-seven in Bond Street – your honour, I am known by the name of secret Tom.
[Exit.
Lord G. What is the use of this deceit? strong as my suspicion is, a seal must be sacred.
Sir C. Our circumstances make an exception to your rule: when there is treason in the state, wax gives way. [Takes the Letter, opens and reads it.] 'Faith, this is beyond my expectation – though the mystery is unfathomable, the aptness of it to my purpose is admirable – Gayville – I wish you joy.
Lord G. Of what?
Sir C. Of conviction! if this is not plain! only hear. [Reads.] Since my confused lines of a few minutes past, my perplexities redouble upon my spirits – I am in momentary apprehension of farther insult from the Alscrip family; I am still more anxious to avoid Lord Gayville, [Pauses and looks at Lord Gayville.] do not suspect my sincerity – I have not a thought of him that ought to disturb you.– Here she is, Gayville, look at her, through the true medium of mutual affection —I have not a thought of him that might to disturb you – Fly to me, secure me, my dearest Henry.
Lord G. Dearest Henry!
Sir C. [Reads on.] Dearest Henry – In this call, the danger of your Harriet unites with the impatience of her affection.
Lord G. Hell, and fury! this must be some trick, some forgery. [Snatches the Letter.] – No, by all that's perfidious, it is that exquisite hand, that baffles imitation.
Sir C. All, regular, strict, undeviating modern morals – common property is the first principle of friendship; your horse, your house, your purse, your mistress – nay, your wife, would be a better example still of the doctrine of this generous age. Bless fortune, Gayville, that has brought the fidelity of your friend and your girl to the test at the same time.
Lord G. Sir, I am not in a humour for any spleen but my own. What can this mean? It must have been a secret attachment for years – but then the avowal of a correspondence, and the confusion at receiving it – his coldness in traducing her; the passionate interest he expressed in her fate; the conviction of his second letter – It is all delirium. I'll search the matter to the bottom, though I go to Clifford's heart for it.
[Exit in great anger.
Sir C. I'll after the precious fellow too – He is a rogue above my hopes, and the intricacy of his snares excite my curiosity.
[Exit.
SCENE III
Lady Emily's Apartment.
Lady Emily discovered, reading.
Lady E. It will not do. My eyes may run over a thousand subjects, but my thoughts centre in one. Ah! that sigh! that sigh from the fair sufferer this morning – I have found it echo in my own heart ever since.
Enter Servant
Serv. Madam, Mr. Blandish.
Lady E. Pooh! did you say I was at home?
Serv. Your ladyship gave no orders to the contrary.
Lady E. Show him in. [Exit Servant.] I must take up my air of levity again – It is the only humour for a fellow who I sometimes allow to entertain me, but who can never get my esteem. I have more calls upon my affectation this unlucky day, than my real disposition would execute in a long life.
Enter Blandish
Lady E. Blandish, I am horridly peevish; have you any thing new to divert me?
Blandish. If you ask me for news, the latest is, that Clifford has been detected in a clandestine intercourse with the object of Lord Gayville's secret passion; that he has betrayed the confidence of his friend and patron, and actually carried her off. [Aside.] Which, Gayville knows by this time, with all its aggravations, or Prompt has not been as active as he used to be.
Lady E. [With Emotion.] Blandish, this is a poor project. Clifford treacherous to his friend? You might as soon make me believe Gayville dispassionate, my uncle charitable, or you ingenuous.
Blandish. His conduct does not rest upon opinion, but proof; and when you know it, you must think of him with aversion.
Lady E. Must I? Then don't let me hear a word more – I have aversions enough already —
[Peevishly.
Blandish. It is impossible you can apply that word to one whose only offence is to adore you.
[Kisses her Hand.
Enter Clifford
Cliff. [Aside, surprised.] Blandish so favoured?
Lady E. [Aside.] Perverse accident: what mistakes now will he make!
Blandish. [Aside.] The enemy has surprised me – but the only remedy in such emergences, is to show a good countenance.
Cliff. I fear I have been guilty of an unpardonable intrusion.
Blandish. Mr. Clifford never can intrude; but though you had not come so apropos yourself – Lady Emily will bear testimony, I have not spared my pains to remove any prejudices she might have entertained.
Lady E. Had you not better repeat in your own words, Mr. Blandish, all the obliging things you have said of this gentleman?
Cliff. It is not necessary, madam – if without robbing you of moments that I perceive are precious —
Lady E. Sir?
Cliff. I might obtain a short audience —
[Looking at Blandish.
Blandish. [Aside.] He's devilish impudent – but he cannot soon get over facts, and I'll take care the conference shall not be long. [To Lady Emily.] – Lady Emily; hear Mr. Clifford, and judge if I have misrepresented him – [To Clifford.] When you want a friend, you know where to find him.
[Exit.
Lady E. This is an interview, Mr. Clifford, that I desire not to be understood to have authorized. It is not to me, you are accountable for your actions – I have no personal interest in them.
Cliff. I know it well.
Lady E. [Peevishly.] Do not run away with the notion neither, that I am therefore interested in any other person's – You have among you vexed and disconcerted me, but there is not a grain of partiality in all my embarrassment – if you have any eyes, you may see there is not.
Cliff. Happy Blandish! your triumph is evident.
Lady E. Blandish, the odious creature – He is my abhorrence – You are hardly worse yourself in my bad opinion, though you have done so much more to deserve it.
Cliff. How cruel are the circumstances that compel me to leave you under these impressions! – nay – more – at such a time to urge a request, that during your most favourable thoughts of me would have appeared strange if not presumptuous. – This is the key of my apartment. It contains a secret that the exigency of the hour obliged me, against inclination or propriety, to lodge there. Should Sir Clement return before me, I implore you to prevent his discovery, and give to what you find within, your confidence and protection. Lord Gayville – but I shall go too far – the most anxious event of my life presses on me. I conjure you to comply, by all the compassion and tenderness nature has treasured in your heart – not for me – but for occasions worthy their display. Pray take it.
[Gives the Key, which she receives with some reluctance and exit.
Lady E. Heigho! – It's well, he's gone without insisting on my answer: I was in a sad flutter of indecision. What mysterious means he takes to engage me in a confidence which I could not directly accept! – I am to find a letter, I suppose – the story of his heart – Its errors and defence – My brother's name, also – to furnish me with a new interest in the secret, and one I might avow – One may dislike this art, but must be sensible of his delicacy – Ah, when these two qualities unite in a man, I am afraid he is an overmatch for the wisest of us – Hark! – sure that is the sound of my uncle's coach – [Looks out of the Window.] 'Tis he – and now for the secret – Curiosity! innate irresistible principle in womankind, be my excuse, before I dare question my mind upon other motives.
[Exit.
SCENE IV
Another Apartment.
Enter Lady Emily
Lady E. Oh, lud! I could hardly tremble more at opening this man's apartment, were there a possibility of finding him within side. How do people find courage to do a wrong thing, when an innocent discovery cannot be prosecuted without such timidity?
[Approaches the Door timidly, and unlocks it.
Enter Miss Alton
Amazement! Miss Alton! what is all this?
Miss Alton. Madam, I was brought here, for an hour's concealment; who I really am, I would not, if possible to avoid it, divulge in this house. When you saw me last, you honoured me with a favourable opinion – My story, not explained at full, might subject me to doubts, that would shake your candour.
Lady E. What shall I do? – She is pale, and ready to faint – I cannot let her be exposed in such a situation. – Retire – you may rely upon me for present security – You know best your pretensions to my future opinion. – [Hearing Sir Clement.] – Begone, or you are discovered.
[Shuts her in, and locks Clifford's Door.
Enter Sir Clement
Sir C. Oh, the triumph of honour! Oh, the sincerity of friendship! How my opinions are ratified – how my system is proved!
Lady E. Oh, spirits, spirits, forsake me not! – Oh, for a moment's dissimulation!
Sir C. There are some, now, who would feed moroseness and misanthropy with such events: to me they give delight, as convictions and warnings to mankind.
Lady E. Of how superior a quality, my good uncle, must be the benevolence you possess! it rises with the progress of mischief; and is gratified (upon principles of general good) by finding confidence abused, and esteem misplaced. Am I not right in attributing your joy at present to that sort of refinement?
Sir C. Hah! and to what sensations, my good niece, shall be attributed the present state of your spirits? To the disgust you took to Clifford almost at first sight. It will not be with indifference, but pleasure, you will hear of his turning out the veriest rascal, the most complete impostor, the most abandoned – but hold, hold! – I must not wrong him by superlatives – he is matched too.
Lady E. Really! – I congratulate you upon such a check of charity.
Sir C. And I wish you joy, my pretty pert one, upon the credit your sex has acquired, in producing this other chef-d'œuvre – such a composition of the highest vices and the lowest – But your goodnature will, I dare say, easily find palliatives for both parties.
Lady E. Come, sir; no more of your sarcasms. I can treat wrong actions with levity, and yet consider them with detestation. Prudes and pretenders condemn with austerity. To the collection of suspicions you are master of, let me add one – In a young lady, of the delicacy and age you have described, always suspect the virtue that does not wear a smile.
Sir C. And the sincerity that wears one awkwardly.
Enter Prompt, hastily
Prompt. Joy to your honour; I see you have caught her.
Sir C. Her! – whom?
Prompt. [Lady Emily turning.] I ask your ladyship's pardon – Having only the glimpse of a petticoat, and knowing the object of my chase was in this house, I confess I mistook you.
Sir C. In this house?
Prompt. As sure as we are – She came in through the garden, under Mr. Clifford's arm – up the other stairs, I suppose. – If my lady had been hereabouts, she must have seen her.
Lady E. [In confusion.] Yes; but, unluckily, I was quite out of the way.
Sir C. Such audaciousness passes credibility. – Emily, what do you think of him?
Lady E. That he is a monster. – [Aside.] How my dilemmas multiply!
Sir C. What, to my house! to his apartment here! I wonder he did not ask for protection in yours. – What should you have said?
Lady E. I don't know; but, had I been so imposed upon as to receive her, I should scorn to betray even the criminal I had engaged to protect.
Sir C. [Tries at the Door, and finds it locked.] Emily, my dear, do ring the bell, to know if the housekeeper has a second key to this lock.
Lady E. What shall I do?
Prompt. She is certainly there, sir, and cannot escape. Where can she better remain, till you can assemble all parties, confront them, face to face, and bring every thing that has passed to a full explanation?
Sir C. With all my heart; send and collect every body concerned as fast as possible. – How I long for so complicated an exhibition of the purity of the human heart; Come with me, Emily, and help to digest my plan, – Friends and lovers, what a scene shall we show you!
[Takes Lady Emily under the Arm. – Exeunt.