University of Virginia Library

SCENE X.

Bellair, Nithsdale.
BELLAIR.
'Tis you; say my friend was deceived.
(Nithsdale makes an affirmative sign.)
You were snared into—

NITHSDALE.
Hush!

BELLAIR.
Could you guess how I grieved!
But oh! fly from this jail; I'm still full of alarms.
I've a carriage at hand: trust yourself to these arms.

(Nithsdale tucks up his petticoats, gets down the balcony backwards, setting his foot on the area rail.)
BELLAIR.
Powers above!—what a leg!

(Lord Nithsdale turns round on the rail, rejects Bellair's hand, and jumps down.)
BELLAIR.
O my charmer! one kiss.

NITHSDALE.
Are you out of your senses?

BELLAIR
(trying to pull up her hood).
With rapture!

NITHSDALE
(striking him).
Take this.

BELLAIR.
What a fist! If it hits one so hard before marriage,
What would it do after?

NITHSDALE.
Quick—where is the carriage?
Now, sir, give me your hand.

BELLAIR.
I'll be hanged if I do
Till I snatch my first kiss!
(Lifts the hood and recoils astounded.)
Who the devil are you?

(Nithsdale tries to get from him. A struggle. Bellair prevails.)
BELLAIR.
I will give you in charge, or this moment confess
How you pass as my Lucy, and wear her own dress?

NITHSDALE
(aside).
What! His Lucy? I'm saved.
To her pity I owe
This last chance for my life; would you sell it, sir?

BELLAIR.
No.
But your life! What's your name? Mine is Sidney Bellair.

NITHSDALE.
Who in Parliament pleaded so nobly to spare
From the axe—

BELLAIR.
The chiefs doomed in the Jacobite rise?

NITHSDALE
(with dignity).
I am Nithsdale. Quick—sell me or free me—time flies.

BELLAIR.
Come this way. There's my coach: I will take you myself
Where you will;—ship you off.

NITHSDALE.
Do you side with the Guelph?

BELLAIR.
Yes. What then?

NITHSDALE.
You would risk your own life by his laws,
Did you ship me to France. They who fight in a cause
Should alone share its perils. Farewell, generous stranger!

BELLAIR.
Pooh! no gentleman leaves a young lady in danger;
You'd be mobbed ere you got half a yard through the town;
Why, that stride and that calf—let me settle your gown.
(Clinging to him, and half spoken without.)
No, no; I will see you at least to my carriage.
(Behind scene.)
To what place shall it drive?

NITHSDALE.
To Blackwall.

Enter Lucy from the window.
Hateful marriage!
But where's that poor lady? What!—gone? She is free!
Could she leap from the window? I wish I were she.

(Retreats.)