 | The Secretary |  |
SCENE I.
—The Street.Enter Wilton Brown and Lord Sherbrooke.
Wilt.
Counsel me, Sherbrooke! I am past advice
Or aidance from myself!—a man in bonds—
Imprison'd—one whose substance goes to rack
On a nefarious plea, which but his face
Would quash, and he's restrain'd from showing it!
446
Collect your thoughts! Be more yourself!
Wilt.
I cannot!
To Lady Laura stand I pledged, to-night
To change my troth with hers before the priest!
Thy father's bondsman am I, further yet,
Until that league of love I implement;
And further still, the Duke's life hostage held,
Which, if I know him, he would forfeit sooner
Than suffer a polluted stream to mix
With the pure current of his costly blood;
Yet there debarr'd of option, by my oath
To keep my secret till his liberty
Is by his own undoing perfected.
What's to be done?
Sher.
What is a man to do
That's in the grasp of stronger men than he,
But go along with them? Scruples that can't
Avail, should never chafe! What I should do,
And could, I would do; but, the power away,
The crime of the omission is away!
Our parentage is not of our own choice,
So its discredit to its framers stick,
Not us; and hang the world that makes it ours!
Sooth, though the banns had never been proclaim'd,
I had been still the goodly youth I am;
The same engaging features—shapely form—
Right gallant carriage—girth and height without
Abatement of the matter of an inch!
The same bold, merry heart, and pranksome wit;
Yea, I believe my blood had been the same,
The same my hair and skin! Tut, Wilton! men
Should answer for themselves, and live and breathe
In others' 'count by their own deeds alone!
Wilt.
A friend that knew my wishes and my strait,
Might, of his own accord, effect for me
What mocks my faculty!
Sher.
And if he did,
How might you thank him by-and-by? No, sir;
I live in hopes to be a god-father,
And can't forego the chance. I would enjoy,
Moreover, the bride's customary bounty—
The blushing kiss, I, else, may never get;
Besides, I wish the race to multiply!
It is a matter that concerns the state,
And I, a loyal subject, should not thwart.
Then I have thoughts, myself, of matrimony,
Although an indefinable mistrust,
And so would profit, like a thorough friend,
By your experiment. 'Sdeath! would you spoil
The chance of such a Benedict as I?
Wilt.
Sherbrooke, you jest; and honour is in question!
Sher.
And if it were, Wilton, I should not jest,
447
Look you; you blush to share my blood! Go to!
I would the share were double what it is!
I would you were my brother! Were you, and
With like discrepancy, my thrice-bound love,
Being the man of merit that you are,
Had, more than even, made the faultless odds!
Wilt.
The friend that soothes me tells me what I am,
Plain as the enemy that bears me hard!
I wear a branded name.
Sher.
No name's a brand
When Virtue is the wearer!
Wilt.
I must seek
A sterner counsellor!
Sher.
Then come with me
To Colonel Green. No question! If there lives
The man to help you, he's the very man.
More could I tell you—what shall soon be known.
Give me my way in this, then take your own!
| The Secretary | |