 | The Fatal Extravagance |  |
22
SCENE VI.
Bellmour, Louisa, Belinda.*Lou.
Oh, Belinda!
How wretched are we now? No Gleam of Comfort
Breaks out to cheer our sad, despairing Spirits.
Courtney, return'd, has brought unwelcome News.
Belinda.
I've heard the News, and feel your Woes increase.
Wou'd it were mine to administer Relief!
Lou.
But one Way now remains to save us all—
At least, our Ruin to suspend a while—
And That is in your Power.
Bel.
Oh! speak it quickly—
How can I serve your Family?
Lou.
By Marriage.
Bell.
With whom?
Lou.
Ev'n Bargrave, our much-dreaded Creditor.
Bell.
I'll perish, rather than give my Consent.
Lou.
For Heav'n's Sake, Bellmour, think of our Distress,
Think of our Children's State—O think—
Bell.
No more.
Thought makes me wild—and shou'd Belinda yield,
The only, now remaining Treasure left us,
To such a Villain, I should lose my Reason,
And be a-like, in Soul and Fortune, beggar'd.
Think you I'd buy my Safety with her Ruin?
Barter her Charms, the Honour of our House,
And all the Stock of Glory that is ours,
For Bargrave's Grace? For the precarious Favour
Of short Reprieve from Misery? Were she his,
Were he but once possess'd of her, then All
Were his indeed: Our Ruin wou'd be then
Compleat, and his proud Tyranny triumphant.
23
Too resolute and cruel in thy Purpose!
May not Alliance alter Bargrave's Mind?
What will not Love, and Marriage, and Relation,
Do for a Family?—But, Belinda, say,
What do'st thou now resolve? Thou see'st our Fate
Is to its Crisis come. We, or must perish,
Or Thou, the friendly Plank, preserve from Wreck,
And bear us to the wish'd-for Hav'n of Ease.
Bel.
What shall I say? wou'd my poor Life cou'd save you!
My Soul is melted—Sympathy o'erpow'rs
My tender Nature, and I sink beneath
Your Burden: 'Tis my own, and weighs me down.
How hard the Struggle then, in my poor Heart,
To wed with Bargrave, and to please my Brother!
Marriage may soften—
Bell.
Whom? The polish'd Steel
Might sooner take Impression from the Dew,
Or gently falling Show'rs, than Bargrave's Soul
Receive the Stamp of Virtue and Humanity.
Trust not, Belinda, what he says, or swears.
His Heart and Tongue are Strangers.—Dost thou weep?
Alas! I've brought my Kindred and my Friends
Into my Sufferings: All involv'd in Woe!
Oh! Wretch! Wretch! Wretch!
| The Fatal Extravagance | |