University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Mrs Vizard, Blount.
MRS VIZARD.
I had sent out my servant; this is not your hour.

BLOUNT.
Mistress Vizard.

MRS VIZARD.
Sweet sir! (Aside.)
He looks horridly sour.

BLOUNT.
I enjoined you, when trusting my ward to your care—

MRS VIZARD.
To conceal from herself the true name that you bear.

BLOUNT.
And she still has no guess—

MRS VIZARD.
That in Jones, christened John,
'Tis the great Selden Blount whom she gazes upon.

BLOUNT.
And my second injunction—

MRS VIZARD.
Was duly to teach her
To respect all you say, as if said by a preacher.

BLOUNT.
A preacher!—not so; as a man she should rather
Confide in, look up to, and love as—

MRS VIZARD.
A father.

BLOUNT.
Hold! I did not say “Father.” You might, for you can,
Call me—

MRS VIZARD.
What?

BLOUNT.
Hang it, madam, a fine-looking man.
But at once to the truth which your cunning secretes,
How came Lucy and you, ma'am, at night in the streets?

MRS VIZARD.
I remember. Poor Lucy so begged and so cried—
On that day, a year since—

BLOUNT.
Well!

MRS VIZARD.
Her poor mother died;
And all her wounds opened, recalling that day:
She insisted—I had not the heart to say nay—
On the solace religion alone can bestow;
So I led her to church,—does that anger you?

BLOUNT.
No!
But at nightfall—

MRS VIZARD.
I knew that the church would be dark;
And thus nobody saw us, not even the clerk.

BLOUNT.
And returning—

MRS VIZARD.
We fell into terrible danger.
Sir, the Mohawks—

BLOUNT.
I know; you were saved by a stranger.
He escorted you home; called the next day, I hear.

MRS VIZARD.
But I soon sent him off with a flea in his ear.

BLOUNT.
Since that day the young villain has seen her.

MRS VIZARD.
Oh no!

BLOUNT.
Yes.

MRS VIZARD.
And where?

BLOUNT.
At the window.

MRS VIZARD.
You do not say so!
What deceivers girls are! how all watch they befool!
One should marry them off, ere one sends them to school!

BLOUNT.
Ay, I think you are right. All our plans have miscarried.
Go; send Lucy to me—it is time she were married.

(Exit Mrs Vizard by door to left of side scene.)
BLOUNT.
When I first took this orphan, forlorn and alone,
From the poor village inn where I sojourned unknown,
My compassion no feeling more sensitive masked.
She was grateful—that pleased me; was more than I asked.
'Twas in kindness I screened myself under false names,
For she told me her father had fought for King James;
And, embued in the Jacobite's pestilent error,
In a Roundhead she sees but a bugbear of terror.
And from me, Selden Blount, who invoked our free laws
To behead or to hang all who side with that cause,
She would start with a shudder! O fool! how above
Human weakness I thought myself! This, then, is love!
Heavens! to lose her—resign to another those charms!
No, no! never! Why yield to such idle alarms?
What's that fop she has seen scarcely once in a way
To a man like myself, whom she sees every day?
Mine she must be! but how!—the world's laughter I dread.
Tut! the world will not know, if in secret we wed.

(Enter Lucy by door to left of side scene.)