University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Walpole, Mrs Vizard.
WALPOLE.
Quite shocked to detain you,
But I knew a mistake, if there were one, would pain you.

MRS VIZARD.
Sir, mistake there is not; that vile creature is no man.

WALPOLE.
But you locked the door?

MRS VIZARD.
Fast.

WALPOLE.
Then, no doubt, 'tis a woman,
For she slipped thro' the window.

MRS VIZARD.
No woman durst!

WALPOLE.
Nay.
When did woman want courage to go her own way?

MRS VIZARD.
You jest, sir. To me 'tis no subject of laughter.

WALPOLE.
Do not weep. The reward?—we'll discuss that hereafter.

MRS VIZARD.
You'd not wrong a poor widow who brought you such news?

WALPOLE.
Wrong a widow!—there's oil to put in her cruse.
(Giving a pocket-book.)
Meanwhile, the tried agent despatched to your house,
In that trap found a poor little terrified mouse,
Which did call itself “Wilmot”—a name known to me.
Pray you, how in your trap did that mouse come to be?

MRS VIZARD
(hesitatingly).
Sir, believe me—

WALPOLE.
Speak truth—for your own sake you ought.

MRS VIZARD.
By a gentleman, sir, to my house she was brought.

WALPOLE.
Oh! some Jacobite kinsman perhaps?

MRS VIZARD.
Bless you, no;
A respectable Roundhead. You frighten me so!

WALPOLE.
A respectable Roundhead intrust to your care
A young girl, whom you guard as in prison!— Beware!
'Gainst decoy for vile purpose the law is severe.

MRS VIZARD.
Fie! you libel a saint, sir, of morals austere.

WALPOLE.
Do you mean Judith Vizard?

MRS VIZARD.
I mean Selden Blount.

WALPOLE.
I'm bewildered! But why does this saint (no affront)
To your pious retreat a fair damsel confide?

MRS VIZARD.
To protect her as ward till he claims her as bride.

WALPOLE.
Faith, his saintship does well until that day arrive
To imprison the maid he proposes to wive.
But these Roundheads are wont but with Roundheads to wed,
And the name of this lady is Wilmot, she said.
Every Wilmot I know of is to the backbone
A rank Jacobite; say, can that name be her own?

MRS VIZARD.
Not a doubt; more than once I have heard the girl say
That her father had fought for King James on the day
When the ranks of the Stuart were crushed at the Boyne.
He escaped from the slaughter, and fled to rejoin
At the Court of St Germain's his new-wedded bride.
Long their hearth without prattlers; a year ere he died,
Lucy came to console her who mourned him, bereft
Of all else in this world.

WALPOLE
(eagerly).
But the widow he left;
She lives still?

MRS VIZARD.
No; her child is now motherless.

WALPOLE
(aside).
Fled!
Fled again from us, sister! How stern are the dead!
Their dumb lips have no pardon! Tut! shall I build grief
On a guess that perchance only fools my belief?
This may not be her child. (Rings).

(Enter Servant.)
My coach waits?

SERVANT.
At the door.

WALPOLE.
Come; your house teems with secrets I long to explore.

(Exeunt Walpole and Mrs Vizard.)