University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—The Garden or Court-yard of Scroope's house. Before the house, R. H., a porch with seats in it. The entrance gate opening inwards, L. H.
Scroope meeting Isabel.
ISABEL.
I would speak with Master Scroope.

SCROOPE.
He waits your pleasure.

ISABEL.
There is a debt due to you from Fitz-Alan,
My father's page—some fifty pounds—on his part
I come to pay it.

SCROOPE.
On your father's part?
His steward then—pardon me—yours is not
A face that I dare crimson, or a heart
That I dare pain; but this account of Richard's
Must not be settled thus.

ISABEL.
Why, what expect you
More than the payment?

SCROOPE.
Not so much, perhaps,
Unless I am sure from whom that payment comes.
I am a cautious man, honest withal:
Should I rob the child who'd pay her father's debts,
His very kindnesses, out of the store,
The little store, his prodigality
Has left her?

ISABEL.
Nay, sir.

SCROOPE.
I have a right to praise you,
Nearer than you would think—a right to love you.
Richard is free on one condition only.

ISABEL.
Name it.

SCROOPE.
That you receive the jewels which
You sent by him this morning. He has not
Betray'd you—nor would I, even if I could
Read aught in you that is not just and noble.—
I'll bring the jewels.

ISABEL.
Nay—

SCROOPE.
If, ere the night fall
You think that you should not receive them from me
Give them again.

ISABEL.
I know not how to doubt you.
Stay, some one comes, I'd not be seen.

SCROOPE.
Nor shall you.
'Tis Master Parallel with my niece, step in
And rest you in that chamber. I will sit
Here in the porch.

[Exit Isabel.
[Scroope sits in the porch. Mariana and Parallel enter at the gate.]
MARIANA.
Come in, grave sir!

PARALLEL.
Nay, not grave now, sweet mistress;
The subject I would treat of is a gay one,—
That is, it hath, when properly divided,
Both gaiety and gravity, being Love;
Which is a feeling, passion, or sensation,
To be handled logically, thus—

MARIANA.
Good, sir,
Is't thus you would be gay?

PARALLEL.
If you but wait
Until the thirteenth point you'll see how merrily
And wittily 'tis treated.

MARIANA.
Come! away sir
With all this musty logic! I'm unlearned
And fain would hear you in a simpler tongue.

(Enter Edward unperceived.)
EDWARD.
I'll listen how my pupil-tutor speeds
In the lesson I have taught him! ha! the porch there!

[Approaches the porch gradually during the dialogue.
MARIANA.
What news abroad, sir, or what scandal have you?

PARALLEL.
Scandal!

MARIANA.
Aye, scandal, that's our Latin, sir;
And if you are not learned in that tongue
You'll gain no honours in a female college.

PARALLEL.
Scandal,—why, no—yet yes; for, to speak plainly,
Scandal is not at all times scandalous.

MARIANA.
Oh, no.

PARALLEL.
And there are pleasing, light discourses,
In which we sift and analyse the feelings
Of friends, which savour strongly of humanity.

MARIANA.
Certainly.

PARALLEL.
For we know that human nature
Hath two sides at the least.

MARIANA.
To understand it,
We must turn it inside out.

PARALLEL.
Exactly so.
Now of yourself.

MARIANA.
Of me! Scandal of me!

PARALLEL.
No, that might not amuse you; but of one
Who, being one, would of that one make twain,
Yet of the twain but one. One who would wed you.

MARIANA.
One of my lovers?

PARALLEL.
Ay, Richard Fitz-Alan.
[Richard appears at gate; hearing his name, stops; goes behind the door and listens.
There was some noise.

MARIANA.
Nay, nothing; pray, go on.

PARALLEL.
Ahem! hem!

[Edward has now gained the porch.
EDWARD
(sees SCROOPE.)
Ha!

SCROOPE.
Silence! Enter! Sit you down

PARALLEL.
There was a noise that way.

[Mariana and Scroope exchange signals.
MARIANA.
Nay; nothing, nothing.
What is it you would say of Richard?

PARALLEL.
Ah! you love him.
Nay, do not blush, there are none by to hear us.
Hem! To divide—

MARIANA.
Divide!

PARALLEL.
As one might say,
Cut up his character.

MARIANA.
Yes, that's the point—
Cut up his character.

PARALLEL.
We may consider it
Under five heads; as, first, his love to you,
Which branches into two considerations,
As, whether it be real or pretended.

MARIANA.
Good, sooth! I've sometimes doubted that.

[Looking at Richard
PARALLEL.
Ay, doubt
Is parent of all truth. But, to proceed:
Marry, now, treat the point Socratically.
How many doors or entrances hath love
Into the heart?

MARIANA.
As many as the senses.
All are love's portals; though, when the proudest comes,
He comes, as conqueror's use, by his own path,
And sympathy's that breach.

PARALLEL.
Ay, ay, that's well!
But, I know not how it is, to speak of love
No maid discusses it with logical propriety.

MARIANA.
But Richard—

PARALLEL.
You're impatient. I'll be brief,
And handle but these facts: that he hath seen
The lady Isabel Beaufort; then discuss
Her beauty, and its probable effects;
Thence turning to her poverty, the changes
Which that might work, proving that interest
Hath sometimes, too, its share in marriage, thence
Descanting on his change from her to you,
And touching, as a pleasant episode,
Upon some jewels which to-day she gave him.

RICHARD.
(Aside)
Malignant slanderer!

PARALLEL.
What noise was that?

MARIANA.
Nothing. You'd pledge your honour to the truth
Of such a strange narration?

PARALLEL.
Marry would I.
For if the premises be false, the argument
That might be built thereon, howe'er ingenious,
Were but a rope of sand.

RICHARD.
(Aside)
The unblushing rascal!

MARIANA.
Hush! as you love.

RICHARD.
I'd kill and eat the villain.

MARIANA.
'Twere better I should turn my thoughts from him
And fix them on a wiser, sadder man.

PARALLEL.
What! can it be! “a wiser, sadder man!”

(aside.)
MARIANA.
And yet I know but one.

PARALLEL.
(Aside)
She must mean me.
Oh happy Parallel! at length your studies
Will meet their due reward.

[Richard threatening in gesture.
MARIANA.
True, Edward Beaufort
Has offer'd me his hand.

PARALLEL.
(Aside)
I may supplant him.
I should like much to read a lecture to you
Of many various vices which are mingled
So curiously in him 'twould be delightful
To expatiate upon so fine a subject.

EDWARD.
How!

SCROOPE.
Listen! If 'tis false you may be patient.

PARALLEL.
First! his cold heart and selfishness—example,
A tale of him and an Italian girl,
A poor forsaken—

EDWARD.
Death! the peerless villain.

SCROOPE.
Silence! I say: hear out the sland'rous falsehood.

PARALLEL.
Of facts, thus—How he brought her from the Low Countries;
How, while he lov'd, he furnish'd her with gold;
But now—

EDWARD.
The slave (aside.)


PARALLEL.
I'm sure I heard a noise.

MARIANA.
Go on, go on.

PARALLEL.
Then taking fit occasion
To move the hearer's feelings by relation;
For feeling may sometimes be used to open
The ears to a discourse—

MARIANA.
It may, indeed!

PARALLEL.
By the relation how he abandoned her,
Poor, friendless, far from home, strange to our language,
With many other happy points.

MARIANA.
The heartless,
Unfeeling wretch! I'st true?

PARALLEL.
True!—do but offer
What solemn oath you please, and I will swear it.

SCROOPE
(restraining Edward.)
Nay, be not mov'd: whoever speaks a lie
Will, save from fear, as easily swear to it.

MARIANA.
Poor girl! base villain! Pardon, worthy sir,
I was thinking.—Mine's a most unhappy case:
Where shall I find a suitor true and honest?

PARALLEL.
Might I presume to speak to you of love?

MARIANA.
You!

PARALLEL.
Aye. I will not now speak of divisions
In which to handle the sweet subject, since
'Tis union not division that I seek—
By this fair hand— (kneeling.)


[Parallel, in some confusion, has kept his eyes averted during the previous speech. Mariana has beckoned on Richard and placed him between her and Parallel, who takes Richard's hand before he sees him.
RICHARD.
Well, sir, why don't you swear?
'Tis the first time that you have hesitated.
(Draws)
'Sblood but I'll end thee on the spot. I'll make thee
The martyr as th' apostle of all slander.

PARALLEL.
Oh! mercy, mercy!

RICHARD.
Straight confess thy sins!
Knowest thou one act of mine, one simple word,
To justify thy monstrous lies?

PARALLEL.
Not one.
Save that—I've heard—the jewels—

RICHARD.
But their use—
By my honour, I am free (to Mariana.)
What know you of it?

PARALLEL.
Nothing.

RICHARD.
Nor why I took them?

PARALLEL.
No.

RICHARD.
These falsehoods—
What motive hadst thou to invent them? Speak!

PARALLEL.
Must I tell all?

RICHARD.
Or die, by my just wrath!

PARALLEL.
I was set on by Master Edward Beaufort.

RICHARD.
Rise, wretch, and—

MARIANA
(looking at Edward.)
Stay! hold yet your sword to him
For then he swears sincerely. Spoke you truth
In what you said of Beaufort?

PARALLEL.
Very nearly,
Not much embellished.

RICHARD.
Go.

EDWARD
(advancing as Parallel retreats.)
Scandalous liar!
I, too, have overheard thee!

SCROOPE.
Kill him not—
His fears at least have made us some amends:
We have learnt more from him than you intended.

PARALLEL.
I've but improved upon some hints you gave me,
Placing them, as a man of learning should do,
In apt and proper order and division.

SCROOPE.
So far, at least, he's stedfast. I'll protect thee
In this, thy just avowal. You have made, sirs,
A pretty hiding-place of my poor garden.
I wish you joy o' the sport.

EDWARD.
Do you believe, then,
Fair Mariana?—

MARIANA.
Can I doubt your tutor?
The witness you selected for my credence?
For your own sake, no more.

EDWARD.
Do they dare mock me?
Brave me in love and vengeance? Let them look to 't.
There's not the power in earth or hell I'd shrink from
To gain revenge. Farewell; you'll learn to know me
Better, I trust. I'll prove to you what I am.

[Exit.
SCROOPE.
Do you not follow your employer, sir?

PARALLEL.
I pray you, is there no back way? for though
He spoke not, yet there are more indications
Of wrath, than speech—as first, just such a look
As he took leave with.

SCROOPE.
Step, sir, through the passage;
'Twill lead you to the water side.

PARALLEL.
I'll take it.
For various roads have their conveniences,
Which, at your leisure, of my gratitude
I will at full discuss to you; but now,
For many reasons which shall then and there
Be well expounded, I would save my throat
Which, one might argue, runs no little hazard
If I should tarry longer.—So, adieu, sir.

[Exit.
SCROOPE.
So, we are free of two of them;—and you, sir—

(to Richard.)
RICHARD.
I have been to blame to use so little ceremony.
Yet must I ask your ear awhile to swear to you,
Howe'er it seem against me,—there's no truth
In all the baseness he has taxed me with,
Though honour bids me to be silent.

SCROOPE.
Well,
If there be not, you've nought to fear.—I have
A certain means to know all.

RICHARD.
Mariana,
You'll not believe—

SCROOPE.
She will know all; and you,
If you are innocent, I pledge my word.
Your fame is clear with both.—Dare you abide this?

RICHARD.
I dare.

SCROOPE.
Enough—nay look not fearfully
I am bound t'ye for an honourable judgment.

[Exit Richard.
MARIANA.
He is slandered, I am sure on't.

SCROOPE.
Are you so?
Then I am sure—But here is one will tell us.

Enter Isabel.
You have heard all?

ISABEL.
I have.

SCROOPE.
It was a hearing
I would you had been spared.

ISABEL.
Ay, for myself
A brother's baseness is a sister's shame—
More, when my name's their theme;—but I have learnt
The necessity of endurance.—Mariana,
All they have said of Richard is a slander.
He refused from me a portion, a mere trifle,
Of what remained to me;—nor have I any,
The slightest claim, upon his faith, save this,
The friendship of a brother and a sister,
And, in that friendship, here before your uncle,
I tell you, I am sure you have his love,
And by mine honour he is worthy yours.
I would have you his—and happy.

SCROOPE.
Mariana!

MARIANA.
Uncle!

SCROOPE.
Ay, you're too happy to say more.
Lead in your sister, for she shall be so
If she is Richard's sister. I will follow you
And bring the jewels—all but one, which I
Have even a better claim to than yourself;
Go in my children.
[Exeunt Mariana and Isabel.
Is my heart so tender
After its rough and weather-beaten voyage?
That is a noble girl! I was all sternness,
And her face won me—'twas so like—oh! woman!
Man's tutelar to save him from himself,
Light of our joys and solace of our griefs,
Heaven's masterpiece of heaven's perfection—love!
Fierce anger and old hate flee from the spell
Of thy subduing voice and piteous eye,
And leave the heart to thine own charity.

Enter William.
WILLIAM.
So please you, sir, Lord Beaufort would desire
Some speech with you, an hour hence.

SCROOPE.
He is happy
To choose his time thus—well?

WILLIAM.
And he would know
Where you would meet him? here or at his house?

SCROOPE.
His house! I'll spare his honour—I'll go to him
Within this half hour. (Exit William.)
Yes, at once I'll end this.
Shall my better thoughts be but as the false verdure
That clothes a fell volcano? I must quench
This Etna—I'll speak once more with his daughter.

[Exit into house.