University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Lord Seewell and Lady Harriot.
Lady Harriot.
Dear Papa, don't betray me!—her delicate mind
Would be wounded, I know, and would think me unkind:
So far from allowing, what now I impart,
She herself little knows the true state of her heart.

Lord Seewell.
Believe me, my dear, I with pleasure survey
The sisterly fondness you warmly display.
But you, who for others so sensibly feel,
May here be the dupe of affectionate zeal;
And I hope you're mistaken.

Lady Harriot.
My dear Sir, observe!
You may trace her attachment in every nerve:
If I name Mr. Beril in some idle tale,
Poor Fanny will blush, and as often turn pale.
In his absence still more and more pensive she grows,
Yet thinks not from whence her uneasiness flows.
And when he returns, tho' her pleasure is meek,
Yet the glow of content may be seen on her cheek;
And her heart, as if fully consol'd by his sight,
Appears to repose in a tranquil delight.
Dear Papa, you'll perceive, if you'll open your eyes,
That from none but herself she her love can disguise.
One other exception perhaps we may find,
As I think Mr. Beril is equally blind,
And robb'd, like herself, of the talent of seeing,
By that diffident love, which denies it own being.

Lord Seewell.
I hope this attachment, which neither has shewn,
Exists, my good girl, in your fancy alone.

Lady Harriot.
Why so, my dear Sir?—Should it prove, as you fear,
I hope, dear Papa, that you won't be severe.
Consider the delicate frame of my sister!
But I know you've a heart that can never resist her,
If you once clearly see she has fixt her affection,
Tho' she own not her wishes for such a connection;
As you know that her nature's so modest and meek,
She would die from concealment before she would speak.
I have strength to encounter the crosses of life,
And to make my part good, as a daughter or wife:
But our gentle sweet Frances is ill-form'd to bear
The undeserv'd load of vexation and care;
And therefore should wed, unregardful of pelf,
A husband as tender and mild as herself.

Lord Seewell.
Your reasoning, I think, is not perfectly just.
In the kindness of Beril perhaps I might trust;
But the motive you urge for this union, my dear,
Is what, I confess, would awaken my fear.
As you say, your mild sister should never be harrass'd
By those various ills with which life is embarrass'd,
I should guard her from all the vexations that wait
On a liberal mind with a narrow estate:
And if Beril had thoughts of becoming my son,
Had I not more objections, yet this must be one.

Lady Harriot.
I'll remove it, my Lord, for indeed this is all:
As you think they'll be pinch'd by an income too small,
You shall add to their fortune, and large it will be,
Two thirds of the portion you've destin'd for me.

Lord Seewell.
Dear Harriot! I'm charm'd with thy soul, I confess;
Thou'rt a generous girl—to a noble excess.

Lady Harriot.
To that name, dear Papa, I've no title, indeed,
As I only give up what I never can need.
In your house all my wants will, I know, be supply'd;
And if I should leave it, as Careless's bride,
The liberal heir of so large an estate
Will not grieve that my fortune has sunk in its weight.
Or should my swain frown at the change in my purse,
He may e'en take old Themis for better for worse;
For tho', I confess, he has won my regard,
Yet the knot of my love is not twisted so hard,
But 'twill slip in a moment, if ever I see
That he's rather more fond of my purse than of me.

Lord Seewell.
'Tis a pity, the friendly illusions of youth
Cannot instantly turn into substance and truth.
Your affectionate fancy, my dear, is delighted
With the dream of beholding two persons united,
Whom you fondly suppose only form'd for each other.

Lady Harriot.
I should like Mr. Beril, I own, for my brother,
Because I'm convinc'd, that no mortal on earth,
In manners, in temper, in taste, and in worth,
Is form'd so exactly to suit such a wife.
On their lasting attachment I'd venture my life.

Lord Seewell.
Your warm heart, my good girl, your young judgment deceives,
And what the first wishes the second believes.
Dear Harriot, to this fancied match there may be
Many bars, which your eyes are unable to see:
A mistress conceal'd with a young little fry—

Lady Harriot.
Should an angel declare it, the fact I'd deny;
For had Beril been loaded with such a connection,
In his eyes I had never perceiv'd his affection.
But I'll presently solve any doubts of this kind,
As I'm soon to be told the true state of his mind;
For Careless has promis'd—

Lord Seewell.
O fie! my dear, fie!
Your intemperate zeal has now risen too high.
I am really concern'd at your great indiscretion.

Lady Harriot.
Nay! but hear me, my Lord!—I have dropt no expression,
No! not one single hint, that could truly discover
Why in such a research I commission'd my lover!
Don't think, dear Papa, I'd my sister betray!—

Enter a Servant.
Servant.
Mr. Beril, my Lord, sent this letter.

Lord Seewell.
Stay! stay!
Does any one wait for an answer below?

Servant.
No, my Lord, the man's gone.

Lord Seewell.
Very well! you may go!

[Exit Servant.
Lady Harriot.
Should this be an offer!—'twould give me great pleasure;
But I fear he's too modest to take such a measure.—
Dear Papa! does he venture on any advances?

Lord Seewell.
There, my dear!—you'll not find any mention of Frances;
And I think by the note, which to you I resign,
Your conjectures are not so well founded as mine.

Lady Harriot
(perusing the Letter.)
“Occasion for money.”—“The statue to you!”—
I'm amaz'd—and can hardly believe it is true.
He never would part with so dear a possession,
But for some urgent reason.

Lord Seewell.
You see his confession:
His strong call for money is frankly declar'd;
And I fear his small fortune is greatly impair'd.

Lady Harriot.
These tidings, indeed, give me real concern:
But the source of this step I will speedily learn.
Careless soon will be here.—I will make him discover;
And till we know all, give no peace to my lover.—
But now, my dear Lord, by this note you may find,
How the heart of my sister is really inclin'd:
I'm convinc'd this will prove her affection is strong.
Here she comes for the trial—pray see if I'm wrong.

Lord Seewell.
Well, my dear, I will try, by an innocent plot,
If your sister has really this passion or not.

Enter Lady Frances.
Lord Seewell.
Dear Fanny, you're come our concern to partake,
For we both are much griev'd for our friend Beril's sake.

Lady Frances.
Mr. Beril! dear Sir,—Is he hurt?—Is he kill'd?

Lord Seewell.
No!—with terrors too lively your bosom is fill'd.
My dear, how you tremble!—But I was to blame,
To raise this alarm in your delicate frame.
He is well; but some crosses of fortune, I fear,
Make him sell what he justly consider'd so dear.
You will see by this letter.— (Aside, to Lady Harriot.)
Ah, Harriot, 'tis so;
The excess of her fear from affection must flow!

Lady Frances.
How painful to him must the exigence be,
Which extorts from his hand the agreement I see!
How cruel! for him to relinquish a treasure,
Whence his elegant spirit deriv'd so much pleasure!
But I trust, dear Papa, that your generous mind
Will not now press the bargain he once has declin'd;
And, scorning to profit by any distress,
Will not catch at the gem he still ought to possess.

Lord Seewell.
My dear, can I now, what I offer'd, withhold?
And should I, the statue no less would be sold.

Lady Frances.
Perhaps, if you chose half its value to lend,
From so galling a sale you might rescue your friend!

Lord Seewell.
I am pleas'd, my dear girl, with your spirit, I own,
But these are bad times for a dangerous loan;
And, to tell you the truth in this knotty affair,
I have just at this crisis no money to spare.
But I'll frankly explain our finances to you,
And you shall instruct me in what I shall do.—
As I've seen that old fathers, tho' reckon'd most sage,
Often injure a child by the frolicks of age,
That you may not suffer from follies like these,
I have just now consign'd to the care of trustees
All I've sav'd for you both:—so if I prove unsteady,
You are safe.—When you wed, both your fortunes are ready.

Lady Frances.
How kind, my dear Sir, is whatever you do!
But no child was e'er hurt by a parent like you.

Lady Harriot.
I must smile, dear Papa, at your terrors of slipping;
They who take such precautions are seldom found tripping.
But if in old age your philosophy varies,
I protest I'll forgive you for any vagaries.

Lord Seewell.
Very well, Madam Harriot! remember your word!
I shall claim your indulgence, if e'er I'm absurd.
But as what I have done our loose money secures,
I no longer can touch what I've firmly made yours.

Lady Frances.
Let the fortune of Harriot be sacred, I pray,
For not very distant is her wedding-day.
But as I am convinc'd I shall not wed at all,
Let my portion, Papa, answer every call:
I must beg you to look on it still as your own;
And if it may serve for so timely a loan,
It can't give me more joy, whatsoever my station,
Than by saving your friend from such mortification.

Lord Seewell.
My dear girls! you are both the delight of my life:
May each warm-hearted daughter be blest as a wife!—
What I said was but meant your kind spirit to try,
For the wants of our friend I can amply supply.
Of esteem it will please me to give him a proof,
And preserve the fine statue still under his roof.

Enter a Servant.
Servant.
Mr. Careless, my Lord!

Lady Harriot.
Now the whole I shall know.

[Going.
Lord Seewell.
Stay!—

Servant.
He wishes to see Lady Harriot below.

Lord Seewell.
Being equally anxious this point to discover,
We will all, my dear Harriot, attend on your lover.

[Exeunt.