Celia. I really don't understand your ladyship's question. Lady Bev. Not understand me, child? Why, I ask you how you like Mr Modely? What you should think of him as a husband? Celia. Mr Modely as a hnsband! Why, surely, madam, sir John Lady Bev. Fiddlefaddle, sir John! sir John knows better things than to plague himself with a wife in leading-strings. Celia. Is your ladyship sure of that? Lady Bev. O ho! Would you be glad to have me sure of it? Celia. I don't know what I should be glad of. I would not give sir John a moment's pain to be mistress of the whole world. Lady Bev. But if it should be brought about without giving him pain. Hey! Celia[Patting her cheek with her fan. come, Celia. I should be sorry for it. Lady Bev. Hey day! Celia. For then he must think lightly of me. Lady Bev. What does the girl mean? Come, I must enter roundly into this affair. Here, here, sit down, and tell me plainly and honestly, without equivocation or reservation, is Modely indifferent to you? Nay, nay-look me in the face; turn your eyes towards me. One judges greatly by the eyes, especially in women. Your poor papa used to say that my eyes reasoned better than my tongue. Well, and now tell me, without blushing, is Modely indifferent to you? Celia. I fear he is not, madam, and it is that which perplexes me. Lady Bev. How do you feel when you meet him? Celia. Fluttered. Lady Bev. Hum! While you are with him? Lady Bev. Hum! When you leave him? Lady Bev. Strong symptoms truly! Celia. When sir John Dorilant talks to me, my heart is softened, but not perplexed. My esteem, my gratitude overflows towards him. I consider him as a kind father, with all the tenderness, without the authority. Lady Bev. But when Mr Modely talks? Celia. My tranquillity of mind is gone; I am pleased with hearing what I doubt is flattery, and when he grasps my hand Lady Bev. Well, well, I know all that. Be decent, child. You need say no more. Mr Modely is the man, [Rising. Celia. But, dear madam, there are a thousand obstacles. I am afraid sir John loves me; I am sure he esteems me, and I would not forfeit his esteem for the universe. I am certain I can make him an affectionate and an humble wife, and I think I can forget Mr Modely. Lady Bev. Forget a fiddle! Don't talk to me of forgetting. I order you, on your duty, not to forget. Mr Modely is, and shall be, the man.-You may trust my prudence for bringing it about. I will talk with sir John instantly. I know what you are going to say, but I will not hear a word of it. Can you imagine, Celia, that I shall do any thing but with the utmost decency and decorum? Celia. I know you will not, madam; but there are delicacies Lady Bev. With which I am unacquainted to be sure, and my daughter must instruct me in them! Pray, Celia, where did you learn this nicety of sentiments? Who was it that inspired them? Celia. But the maxims of the world Lady Bev. Are altered, I suppose, since I was of your age. Poor thing, what world hast thou seen? Notwithstanding your delicacies and your maxims, sir John, perhaps, may be wiser than you imagine, and choose a wife of somewhat more experience. Celia. May he be happy wherever he chooses— But, dear madam Lady Bev. Again? don't make me angry. I will positively not be instructed. Ay, you may well blush. Nay, no tears. Come, come, Celia, I forgive you. I had idle delicacies myself once. Lard! I remember when your poor papa-he, he, he-but we have no time for old stories.What would you say now, if sir John himself should propose it, and persuade the match, and yet continue as much your friend as ever, nay, become more so, a nearer friend? Celia. In such a case, madam Lady Bev. I understand you, and will about it instantly. B'ye, Celia; O how its little heart flutters! [Exit. Celia. It does, indeed. A nearer friend? I hardly know whether I should wish her success or not-Sir John is so affectionate. Would I had never seen Mr Modely!Araminta, too! what will she say? O, I see a thousand bad consequences. I must follow her, and prevent them. [Exit. SCENE I.-Continues. ACT II. If she is really all this, how happy must the man be, who can engage her affections! But, alas! Araminta, in every thing which regards me, it is duty, not love, which actuates her behaviour.-She steals away my very soul by her attentions; but never once expresses that heart-felt tender Enter LADY BEVERLEY and MODELY. Lady Bev. PRITHEE, don't tease me so; I vow, cousin Modely, you are almost as peremptory as my daughter. She, truly, was teaching me decorum just now, and plaguing me with her de-ness, those sympathetic feelingslicacies, and her stuff. I tell you, sir John will be in the garden immediately, this is always his hour of walking; and when he comes, I shall lay the whole affair before him, with all its concate nation of circumstances, and, I warrant you, bring it about. Mode. I have no doubt, madam, of the transcendency of your ladyship's rhetoric; it is on that I entirely rely. But I must beg leave to hint, that Araminta already suspects my passion, and should it be openly declared, would undoubtedly prevail, that instant, with her brother to forbid me the house. Lady Bev. Why, that might be Mode. And though I told your daughter I did not care how soon it came to an eclaircissement; yet a woman of your ladyship's penetration and knowledge of the world, must see the necessity of concealing it, at least for a time. I beg pardon for offering what may have even the distant appearance of instruction. But it is sir John's delicacy which must be principally alarmed with apprehensions of her disregard for him; and I am sure your ladyship's manner of doing it, will shew him where he might much better place his affections, and with an undoubted prospect of happiness. Ara. Ha, ha, ha! O my stars! Sympathetic feelings! Why, would you have a girl of her age have those sympathetic feelings, as you call them? If she had, take my word for it, she would coquette it with half the fellows in town, before she had been married a twelvemonth.— Besides, sir John, you don't consider that you was her father's friend; she has been accustomed, from her infancy, to respect you in that light; and our father's friends, you know, are always old people, greybeards, philosophers, enemies to youth, and the destruction of gaiety. Sir John. But I was never such. Ara. I did, as I hope to live; for many a time has your aversion to dancing hindered me from having a fiddle. By the by, remember we are to have the fiddles to-night. But let that pass. As the case now stands, if I was not already so near akin to you, you have the temper in the world which I should choose in a husband. Sir John. That is obliging, however. Ara. Not so very obliging, perhaps, neither. It would be merely for my own sake; for, then, would I have the appearance of the most obediLady Bev. Ay, now you talk to the purpose-ent, sympathetic wife in the universe, and yet be But stay, is not that sir John coming this way? It is, I vow, and Araminta with him. We'll turn down this walk, and reason the affair a little more, and then I will come round the garden upon him. [MODELY takes her hand to lead her out. You are very gallant, cousin Modely. [Exeunt. Enter SIR JOHN DORILANT and ARAMINTA. Ara. What do you drag me into the garden for? We were private enough where we were— and I hate walking. Sir John. Forgive me, my dear sister: I am restless every where; my head and heart are full of nothing but this lovely girl. Ara. My dear, dear brother, you are enough to spoil any woman in the universe. I tell you, again and again, the girl is a good girl, an excellent girl, and will make an admirable wife. You may trust one woman in her commendations of another; we are not apt to be too favourable in our judgments, especially when there is beauty in the case. Sir John. You charm me, when you talk thus. as despotic in my government as an eastern monarch. And when I grew tired, as I probably should do, of a want of contradiction, why, I should find an easy remedy for that, too; I could break your heart in about a month. Sir John. Don't trifle with me; 'tis your serious advice I want; give it me honestly as a friend, and tenderly as a sister. Ara. Why, I have done it fifty times. What can I say more? If you will have it again, you must. This, then, it is, in plain terms. But you are sure you are heartily in love with her? Sir John. Pshaw! Ara. Well, then, that we will take for granted; and now you want to know what is right and proper for you to do in the case. Why, was I in your place, I should make but short work with it. She knows the circumstances of her father's will; therefore, would I go immediately to her, tell her how my heart stood inclined, and hope she had no objections to comply, with what it is not in her power to refuse. Sir John. You would not have me talk thus abruptly to her? Ara. Indeed I would. It will save a world of] trouble. She will blush, perhaps, at first, and look a little awkward (and, by the by, so will you, too); but if she is the girl I take her for, after a little irresolute gesture, and about five minutes conversation, she will drop you a curtesy with the demure humility of a vestal, and tell you it shall be as you and her mamina please. Sir John. O, that it were come to that! Ara. And, pray, what hinders it? Nothing upon earth but your consummate prudence and discretion. Sir John. I cannot think of marrying her, till I am sure she loves me. Ara. Lud, lud!-Why, what does that signify? If she consents, is not that enough? Sir John. Her gratitude may induce her to consent, rather than make me unhappy. Ara. You would absolutely make a woman mad. Sir John. Why, could you think of marrying a man who has no regard for you? Ara. The case is widely different, my good casuistical brother; and perhaps I could not-unless I was very much in love with him. Sir John. And could you then? Lady Bev. What, must women speak first! Fie, sir John- [Looking languishingly.]Well, then, the matter, in short, is this: I have long been thinking how to dispose of my girl properly. She is grown a woman, you see, and, though I, who am her mother, say it, has her allurements. Sir John. Uncommon ones indeed. Lady Bev. Now, I would willingly consult with you how to get her well married, before she is tainted with the indecorums of the world. Sir John. It was the very subject which I proposed to speak to you upon. I am sorry to put your ladyship in mind of a near and dear loss-But you remember sir Harry's will. Lady Bev. Yes, yes, I remember it very well. Poor man! it was undoubtedly the only weak Ara. Yes, I could-to tell you the truth, I be- thing he was ever guilty of. lieve I shall. Sir John. Madam! Sir John. What do you mean? Ara. I shall not tell you. You have business enough of your own upon your hands. Sir John. Have you any doubts of Modely? Ara. I shall keep them to myself, if I have. For you are a wretched counsellor in a love-case. Sir John. But dear Araminta Ara. But dear sir John Dorilant, you may make yourself perfectly easy, for you shall positively know nothing of my affairs. As to your own, if you do not instantly resolve to speak to Celia, I will go and talk to her myself. us. Sir John. Stay, lady Beverley is coming towards Ara. And has left my swain yonder by him self. Sir John. Suppose I break it to her? Lady Bev. I say, sir John, we must pardon the failings of our deceased friends. Indeed his affection for his child excuses it. Sir John. Excuses it! Lady Bev. Yes, indeed, does it. His fondness for her might naturally make him wish to place her with a persou of your known excellence of character; for my own part, had I died, 1 should have wished it myself. I don't believe you have your equal in the world.. Nay, dear sir John, 'tis no compliment. This, I say, might make him not attend to the impropriety of the thing, and the reluctance a gentleman of your good sense and judgment must undoubtedly have to accede to so unsuitable a treaty; especially as he could not but know there were women of discretion in the world, who would be proud of an alliance where the prospect of felicity was so inviting and Ara. It is not a method which I should advise; but do as you please. I know that horrid wo-unquestionable. man's sentiments very exactly, and I shall be glad to have her teased a little. [Aside.]—I'll give you an opportunity by leaving you; and so adieu, my dear sentimental brother! Enter LADY BEVERLEY and MODELY. Sir John. [Who had appeared uneasy all the time she was speaking.] What women, madam? i know of none. Lady Bev. Sir John! That is not quite so complaisant, methinks---to our sex, I mean. Sir John. I beg your pardon, madam; I hardly We'll change partners, if you please, madam.-know what I say. Your ladyship has disconcert [TO LADY BEVERLEY as she enters. And then exit with MODELY.] ed every thing I was going to propose to you. Lady Bev. Bless me, sir John !---I disconcerted every thing! How, pray? I have been only talk Lady Bev. Poor mistaken creature! how fond the thing is! [Aside, and looking after ARA-ing to you in an open friendly manner, with reMINTA. Your servant, sir John. Sir John. Your ladyship's most obedient.[After some irresolute gesture on both sidesLADY BEVERLEY speaks.] VOL. II. gard to my daughter; our daughter, indeed, I Lady Bev. Why, more unlikely things have happened, sir John. Sir John. Than what, madam? Lady Bev. Dear sir John! You put such peremptory questions; you might easily understand what one meant, methinks. Sir John. I find, madam, I must speak plain at once. Know, then, my heart, my soul, my every thought of happiness, is fixed upon that lovely girl. Lady Bev. O, astonishing! Well, miracles are not ceased, that's certain. But every body, they say, must do a foolish thing once in their lives. And can you really and sincerely think of putting sir Harry's will in execution? Sir John. Would I could! Lady Bev. To be sure the girl has a fine for tune. Sir John. Fortune! I despise it. I would give it with all my soul to any one who could engage me her affections. Fortune! dirt. Lady Bev. I am thunderstruck! out. Sir John. [Turning eagerly to her.] O, madam, tell me, sincerely tell me, what method can I possibly pursue to make her think favourably of me! You know her inmost soul, you know the tender moments of address, the easy avenues to her unpractised heart. Be kind, and point them [Grasping her hand. Lady Bev. I vow, sir John, I don't know what to say to you. Let go my hand. You talked of my disconcerting you just now; I am sure you disconcert me with a witness.- [Aside.] I did not think the man had so much rapture in him. He squeezed my hand with such an emphasis, I may gain him, perhaps, at last. Sir John. Why will you not speak, madam? Can you see me on the brink of desperation, and not lend a friendly hand to my assistance? Lady Bev. I have it. [Aside.]- -Alas, sir John, what signifies what I can do? Can I answer for the inclinations of a giddy girl? Sir John. You know she is not such; her innocent mind is yet untainted with the follies of her Sir John. But 'tis impossible. I have observed all her motious, all her attentions, with a lover's eye, incapable of erring. Yet stay——has any body written to her? Lady Bev. There is no occasion for letters, when people are in the same house together. Sir John. Confusion! Lady Bev. I was going to offer some proposals to you, but your strange declaration stopped me short. Sir John. You proposals?-You? Are you her abettor in the affair? O madam, what unpardonable crime have I committed against you, that you should thus conspire my ruin? Have not I always behaved to you like a friend, a brother?-I will not call you ungrateful. Lady Bev. Mercy on us!-The man ravesHow could it possibly enter into my head, or the girl's either, that you had any serious thoughts of marrying her? But I see you are too much discomposed at present, to admit of calm reasoning. So I shall take some other opportunity.Friend-brother-ungrateful!-Very fine truly! -I hope, at least, you will not think of forcing the poor girl's inclinations! Ungrateful indeed! [Exit in a passion. Sir John. Not for the universe-Stay, madam! She is gone. But it is no matter. I am but little disposed for altercation now. Heigh ho!— Good Heaven! can so slight an intercourse have effected all this? I have scarce ever seen them together. O that I had been born with Belmour's happy talents of address !-Address!-'tis absolute magic, 'tis fascination-Alas! 'tis the rapidity of real passion. Why did Modely bring him hither to his wedding? Every thing has conspired against me. He brought him; and the delay of the lawyers has kept him here. Had I taken Araminta's advice a poor fortnight ago, it had not been in the power of fate to have undone me. And yet she might have seen him afterwards, which would at least have made her duty uneasy to her. Heigh ho! Enter ARAMINTA and MODEly. Ara. [Entering.] I tell you, I heard them very loud! and I will see what is the matter. O! here is my brother alone. Sir John. [Taking her tenderly by the hand.] O Araminta! I am lost beyond redemption ! Ara. Dear brother, what can have happened to you? Sir John. [Turning to MODELY.] Mr Modely, you could not intend it, but you have ruined me. Mode. [Alarmed.] I, sir John! Sir John. You have brought a friend with you, who has pierced me to the very soul! Mode. Belmour! Sir John. He has stolen my Celia's affections from me. Ara. Looking slyly at MODELY.] Belmour! Mode. This must be a mistake, but I'll humour [Looking slyly again at MODELY. Mode. There must certainly be some mistake in it; at the worst, I am sure I can prevail so far with Belmour, as to make him drop his pretensions. Sir John. You cannot make her cease to love him. [Sighing.] Mode. Time may easily get the better of so young a passion. Sir John. Never, never; she is too sincere, too delicately sensible. Mode. Come, come, you must not think so; it is not yet gone so far, but that it may be totally forgotten. Now for a master-stroke to clench the whole. Aside.] In the mean time, sir John, I have the satisfaction of acquainting you, that my affair, with Araminta's leave, draws very near a conclusion. The lawyers have finished their papers, and only now wait for your perusal of them. Ara. [Aside.] Well said! Mode. I ordered the writings to be laid upon your table. Ara. [Aside.] What does he mean? Sir John. Dear Mr Modely, you shall not wait a moment for me. I will dispatch them instantly. I feel the want of happiness too severely myself, to postpone it in others. I leave you with my sister; when she names the day, you may depend upon my concurrence. [Exit SIR JOHN. [MODE. and ARA. look at one another for some time, then he speaks.] I hope, madam, you are now convinced of my sincerity? Ara. I am absolutely struck dumb with your assurance. Mod. [With an affected surprise.] Madam! Ara. Why, don't you know that I knowMode. I cannot help a lady's knowledge or imaginations. All I know is, that it is in your power to make me either the happiest, or most miserable man in the whole creation. Ara. Well, this is astonishing. Mode. I am sorry, madam, that any unguarded behaviour of mine, any little playful gallantries, should have occasioned surmises, whichAra. Serious, as I hope to live? Mode. Is it not enough to make one serious, when the woman one has pursued for years, almost with adoration, is induced, by mere appearances, to doubt the honourableness of one's intentions? Have you not heard me this moment apply to your brother, even in the midst of his uneasiness?--I little expected where the difficulty would lie. Ara. Well, well, poor thing, I won't tease it any longer; here, there, take my hand. Mode. Duped, by Jupiter!-[Aside.] O my everlasting treasure! And when, and when shall I be happy? Ara. It shall depend upon yourself. Mode. To-morrow, then, my angel, be the day. Q Araminta, I cannot speak my transport!- -And did you really think I was in love with Celia? Ara. Why, as a proof of my future sincerity, I must confess I did. Mode. I wonder how you could! Ara. Come, come, there were grounds enough for a woman in love to go upon. Mode. [Taking her by the hand.] But you are now perfectly easy! Ara. [Pulling her hand from him.] Why, yes, I think I am.-But what can my brother mean about Belmour? Mode. It is some trick of the widow's. motives. -you know her Ara. Yes, yes; her passion for my brother is pretty notorious. But the wretch will be mistaken.- -To-morrow, you say? -But my Mode. To-morrow, my adorable. Ara. It shall be as you please.--situation is so terribly awkward, that I must break from you. Adieu ! [Exit ARA. Mode. Upon my soul she is a fine woman, and loves me to distraction; and, what is still more, I most undoubtedly love her.--I have a good mind to take her.- -Yet, not to have it in my power to succeed in the other place, would call my parts in question.No, no;-I must not disparage my parts neither.----In order to be a great character, one should go as near being a rogue as possible. I have a philosopher's opinion on my side in that, and the practice of half the heroes and politicians in Europe. [Exit |