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you think it possible, that I should have so pre- Stew. Nay, 'tis not my interest, but your ho posterous a thought? No, my behaviour shall de nour's. Though that, indeed, I may call my in serve, but not over-rule, her inclinations. Were I terest, for I am sure I love your honour. ta seize the tender opportunity of her present dis Sir John. I know thou dost, Jonathan; and I position, the world would ascribe it to her for am too hasty—but leave me now. If the gentune; and I am sure my deceased and valuable tleman will do me the favour of staying all night, friend, however kindly he meant to me in this af- ! may satisfy hin in the morning. My head and fair, never intended that I should make his daugh- heart are too full now, for any business which ter unhappy.
concerns my fortune. Ara. But I tell you she loves you; and you
[Erit Sir Joux. must, and shall
Stew. Something goes very wrong with my Sir John. Ah, sister, you are willing to dispose poor master. Some love nonsense or other, I of her any way.
That worthless lover of yours suppose. I wish all the women were in the butstill hangs about your heart, and I have avoided tom of the sea, for my part. seeing him on your account, as well as Celia's.
[Erit Steward. Ara. To shew how mistaken you are in all
Enter LADY BEVERLEY and CELIA. this, I have given him up totally. I despise, and hate him; nay, I am upon the brink of a resolu Lady Bev. I thought it requisite, sir John, as tion to give myself to another.—(Sir Joun shakes I heard you had something of importance to his head.]-I am, I assure you ; his friend, Mr transact with my daughter, to wait upon you with Belmour, is by no means indifferent on the sub- her. ject.
Sir John. Was that necessary, madam? I Sir John. And is this revenge on yourself, a begged the favour of Miss Beverley's company proof of your want of passion for him ?-Ah, only. Araminta! Come, come, my dear; I own I think Lady Bev. But a mother, you know, sir John, him unworthy of you, and would resent his usage who has a tender concern for her child to the utmost, did not I clearly perceive that it Sir John. Should shew it on every occasion. would appear mercenary in myself, and give real Lady Beo. I find, sir John, there is some mise pain both to you and Celia.
understanding at present, which a woman of pruAra. I actually don't know what to say to you. dence and experience inight be much better con
Sir John. You had better say nothing. Your sulted upon, than a poor young thing, whose spirits, at present, are too much alarmed. I have Sir John. Not at all, madam; Celia has all sent for Celia hither; a short hour may deter- the prudence I require, and our present convermine the fate of all of us. I know my honoura- sation will soon be over, ble intentions will give her great uneasiness. But Lady Beo. Nay, sir John, to be sure I am not it is my duty which exacts them from me. You afraid of trusting my daughter alone with you.had better take a turn or two in some other A man of your discretion will undoubtedly be part of the garden : I see my steward coming guilty of no impropriety. But a third person, this way; I may want your assistance but ton sometimes, where the parties concerned are a lit
[Erit ARA. tle too much influenced by their passions, has oc
casioned very substantial, and very useful effects. Enter the Sleward.
I have known several instances of it, in the course Have you brought these papers I bade you look of my experience. for?
Sir John. This, madam, will not be one of Stew. Yes, sir. But there is the gentleman them. How teasing? [Walking aside. within to wait upon your honour, concerning the Lady Beo. I find, sir John, that you are deestate you intended to purchase. It seems a termined to have your own way, and therefore inighty good bargáill,
will shew you, by my behaviour, that I know Sir John. I cannot speak to himn now. what good manners require; though I do not al
Stew. Your honour always used to be punc-ways meet with the same treatment from other tual.
people. Sir John. Alas! Jonathan, I may be punctual
[Erit Lady Bev. again to-inorrow. Give me the papers. Did Sir John. Now, Celia, we are alone, and I Miss Beverley say she would come to me? have many excuses to make to you for the im
Stew. Immediately, sir. But I wish your ho- passioned sallies of our late conversation, which ndur would consider, such bargains as these do i do most sincerely-Can you pardou them? not offer every day.
Celia. Alas! sir, 'tis I who ought to entreat Sir John. leigh ho !
pardon. Stew. It joins so conveniently, too, to your Sir John. Not in the least, madam; I have no honour's
's own estate—within a hedge, as I may blame to cast upon you for any part of your consay.
duct. Your youth and inexperiencc, joined to Sir John. Prithee, don't plague me.
the goodness of your heart, are sufficient apolo
gies for any shadow of indiscretion which might | terruption, madam, when I find you thus aappear in your behaviour. I am afraid mine lonewas not so irreproachable. However, Celia, I Celia. (Rising. I would choose to be alone. shall endeavour to make you all the amends in Mode. Madam! my power; and to shew you that it is your hap Celia. (After a little pause.}-- In short, Mr piness, not my own, which is the object of my anx- Modely, your behaviour to me, of late, is what I iety. Your father's will is but too clear in its inten can by no means approve of. It is unbecoming tions. But the purity of his heart never meant ur character as a man of honour; and would to promote my felicity at the expence of yours- be a stain to the ingenuous modesty of my sex You are, therefore, madam, entirely at liberty for me to suffer. from this moinent, to make your choice where Mode. You surprise me, madam! Can the you please. This paper will entitle you to that I adoration of an humble love—the timid advance authority; and this will enable you to bestow of a man, whom your beauty has undone, be such your fortune where you bestow your hand. Take unpardonable offences ? chem, my dear. Why are you so disturbed ? (Celia looks with indignation at him, and Alas! Celia, I see too plainly the cause of these
is going off emotions. You only wish the happy man, to Mode. [Catching hold of her, and falling on whom you have given your heart, loved you as I his knees.)– Nay, madam, you must not leave do ! But I beg pardon; and will only add one caution, which my duty demands of me, as your Celia. Rise, sir, or I am gone this moment. I guardian, your protector, and your father's friend. thought of Aying from you, but my soul disdains You have been a witness of Modely's transac-it. Know, then, sir, that I am mistress of mytions with my sister. Have a care, therefore, self; mistress of my fortune; and may
bestow Celia ! be sure of his firm attachment, before my hand wherever my heart directs it. you let your own hurry you into compliance. Mode. My angel ! These papers give you up all power on my part ;
[Conning eagerly up to her. but, as an adviser, I shall always be ready to be Celia. What do you mean? consulted.
Mode. That you may make the most sincere of Celia. My tears and my confusion lave hi- lovers the happiest of mankind. The addition therto hindered me from answering; not the in- of your fortune will add splendour to our felicividious suggestion, which you have so cruellyty; and the frowns of disappointed love only charged me with. What friend, what lover have heighten our enjoyments. 1, to engross my attentions? I never had but Celia. Oh, thou vile one! how does that cruel, one, and he has cast me off for ever. 0, sir, generous man, who has rejected me, rise on the give me the papers, and let me return them comparison ! where my soul longs to place them.
Mode. Rejected you Sir John Dorilant! Sir John. No, Celia; to accept them again Celia. Yes, Mr Modely, that triumph, at least, would impeach the justice of my whole proceed is yours. I have offered myself, and been reing. It would make it look like the mean arti- fused. My hand and fortune equally disdained. fice of a mercenary villain, who attempted to But may perpetual happiness attend him, wheregain, by stratagem, what his merits did not entitle ever his honest, honest heart shall fix ! him to. I blush to think of it. I have perform Mode. O, madam, your inexperience deceives ed my office. Be mistress of yourself, and let you. He knows the integrity of your mind, and me fly from a combat to which I find myself un trusts to that for recompense. His seeming disequal.
[Exit Sir John. interestedness is but the surer method of com[Celia sits down, leaning her hand on her pleting his utmost wishes. head.
Celia. Blasphemer, stop thy tongue ! The pu
rity of his intentions is as much above thy maEnter Modely and BELMOUR,
lice, as thy imitation.
She walks to one side of the stage, and Mode. Hist! Hist! He has just left her, and
Modely stands disconcerted on the in a fine situation for my approaches. If you
other. are not yet satisfied, I will make up all differences with you another time. Get into the ar
Enter LADY BEVERLEY.. bour, and be a witness of my triunph. You Lady Bev. Well, child, what has the man said shall see me, like another Cæsar-Come, see, to thee? Cousin Modely, your servant ! you find and overcome,
our plot would not take; they were too quick upon [BEL. goes into the arbour. us. Hey day! what has been doing here? Mode. [Comes forward, walks two or three Mode. 0, madam, you are my only refuge! a turns by her, bowing as he passes, without being wretch, on the brink of despair, flies to you for taken notice of, then speaks.]—If it is not an in- protection. That amiable creature is in ful Vol. II.
possession of herself and fortune, and yet rejects Ara. Agreeable rascal! [Aside.]—Be quiet, my tenderest solicitations.
can't you; you think one so forward, now. Lady Bev. Really! What is all this? Tell me, Mode. I cannot, will not be restrained, when Celia, has the man actually given up all right and the dear object of my wishes meets me with kind title to thee, real and personal? Come, come; I compliance in her eyes and voice To-mormust be a principal actress, I find, in this affair. row !---'Tis an age-why should we wait for that? Decency and decorum require it. Tell me, child, To-night, my angel ! to-night may make us one; is it so?
and the fair prospect of our halcyon days even Celia. Sir John Dorilant, madam, with a gene- from this hour begin. rosity peculiar to himself, (cruel generosity!) has Ara. Who would not think this fellow, with cancelled every obligation which could confine his blank verse now, was in earnest? But I know my choice. These papers confirm the freedom hin thoroughly. [Aside.}-Indeed, Mr Modely, you he has given me —and rob me of all future are too pressing; marriage is a serious thing, comfort.
Besides, you know, this idle bustle betwixt my Lady Bev. Indeed! I did not expect this of brother and Celia, which you seem to think me him; but I am heartily glad of it. Give me the ignorant of, and which you, in some measure,
though undesignedly, I daresay, have occasioned, Celia. No, madam: useless as they are, they may obstruct us a little. are yet my own.
Mode. Not at all, my dear; an amusement en Lady Bev. Useless I-What do you mean? passant; the mere raillery of gallantry on my side, Has the base man laid any other embargo on the to oblige her impertinent mother (who, you know, child?
has a penchant for sir John herself) was the whole Celia. I cannot bear, madam, even from you, insignificant business. Perhaps, indeed, I to hear sir John Dorilant treated with disrespect. was something blameable in it. Useless !- Yes, they shall be useless. Thus, thus, Ara. Why, really, I think so, in your situation. I tear them into atoms! and disdain a liberty, But are you sure it went no further ?-nothing which but too justly reproaches my conduct.- else passed between you? Your advice, madam, has already made me mi Mode. Nothing in nature. serable; but it shall not make me ungrateful or Ara. Dear me, how mistaken people are! I unjust.
[Erit Celia. cannot say that I believed it; but they told ine, Lady Ber. I am astonished! I never saw the that you had actually proposed to marry her ; irl in such a way before.-Why, this is arrant that the girl was near consenting; and that the disobedience, cousin Modely! I must after her, mother was your friend in the affair. and know the bottom of it.-Don't despair.
Mode. The mere malice and invention of la[Exit Lady BEVERLEY. dy Beverley. Bel. (Coming out of the arbour.] Come, see, Ara. And there is not a word of truth in its overcome Cæsar!
then ? Mode. [Humming a tune.] You think I am Moche. Not a syllable-You know my soul is disconcerted now?
yours. Bel. Why, really, I should think something of Ara. O thou villain !-I thought to have kept that kind.
my temper, and to have treated you with the Mode. You never were more mistaken in your contempt you deserve; but this itisolence is inlife.---Egad ! 'tis a spirited girl. She and sir tolerable !--Can you imagine that I ain a stranJohn Dorilant were certainly born for one an ger to your proceedings? a deaf, blind idiot?other. I have a good mind to take compassion 0, 1 could tear this foolish heart, which, cheated of them, and let them come together. They must by its passion, has encouraged such an insult! and shall be man and wife, and I will e’en go How, how have I deserved this treatment? back to Araminta.
[Bursting into tears. Bel. Thou bast a most astonishing assurance ! Mode. (Greatly alarmed.] By holy faith! by
Mode. Hush !-She is coming this way !--get every power above! you, and you only, are the into your hole again, and be dumb. Now you passion of my soul !-May every curseshall see a scene of triumph indeed.
Ara. Away, deceiver! these tears are the tears Bel. Have a care, Cæsar ! you have the Britons of resentment.--My resolution melts not in my to deal with,
[Retires. eyes. Tis fixed unalterably! You might ima
gine, from the gaiety of my temper, that it bad Enter ARAMINTA.
its levity, too: But know, sir, that a woman, who Ara. What are they gone, and my wretch has once been duped, defies all future inachinahere by himself? O that I could dissemble a tions. little!' I will, if my heart bursts for it.--0, Mode. Hear me, madam !-nay, you shall hear Mr Modely, I am half ashamed to see you! but me. my brother bas signed those odious writings ! Ara. Shall !--insufferable insolence !--Go, sir!
Mode. Then, thus I seize my charmer ! for any thing which regards me, you are free as
Rir, free as your licentious principles. Nor shall Mode. Raillery is out of season. a thought of what I once esteemed, disturb my
Enter a Servant. future quiet. There are men who think me not contemptible, and under whose protection I may Ser. Mrs Araminta, sir, desires to speak with shelter my disgrace.-Unhand me!--This is the you. last time I shall probably ever see you; and I Mode. [Eagerly.] With me? may tell you, in parting, that you have used me Ser. No, sir, with Mr Belmour. cruelly, and that Celia knows you as perfectly as Bel. With me? I do. [Erit ARA.---Mod. stands confounded. Ser. Yes, sir.
Bel. Where is she?
Ser. In the close walk by the house, sir.
[Erit Servant. Mode. I feel it sensibly.
Mode. Belmour, you shall not stir. Bel. And I can tell you another secret
Bel. By my faith, but I will, sir ! Mode, What's that?
Mode. She said there were inen to whom she Bel. That she loves you.
could fly for protection. By my soul, she intends Mode. () that she did !
to propose herself to you! Bel. Did !--Every word, every motion of pas
Bel. And if she does, I shall certainly accept sion through her whole conversation, betrayed it her offer. involuntarily. I wish it had been otherwise. Mode. I'll cut your throat, if you do. Mode. Why?
Bel. And do you think to fright me by that? Bel. Because I had some thoughts of circum- I fancy I can cut throats as well as other people. venting you. But I find it will be in vain. Your servant. If I cannot succeed for inyself, Therefore, pursue her properly, and she is yours. I'll speak a good word for you.
[Erit. Mode. O never, Belmour, never! I have sin Mode. What can this mean? I am upon thorns ned beyond a possibility of pardon. That she till I know the event. I must watch them. No, did love me, I have had a thousand proofs, which, that is dishonest. Dishonest! How virtuous does Jike a brainless idiot, I wantonly trifled with.- a real passion make one !-Heigh ho! [Wulks What a pitiful rascal have I made myself? about in disorder.) He seems in great haste to Bel
. Why, in that I agree with you; but don't go to her. He has turned into the walk already. despair, man; you may still be happier than you That abominable old-fashioned cradle-work makes deserve.
the hedges so thick, there is no seeing through Mode. With what face can I approach her? them. An open lawn has ten thousand times the Every circumstance of her former affection now beauty, and is kept at less expence by half. rises in judgment against me. O, Belmour, she These cursed unnatural chairs are always in the has taught me to blush !
way, too. (Stumbling against one of the gardenBel. And I assure you it becomes you mighti- chairs.] What a miserable dog am I?– I would ly.
give an arm to know what they are talking about. Mode. Where can I apply? How can I address We talk of female coquettes ! By my soul, her? All that I can possibly do, will only look we beat them at their own weapons !-Staylike a mean artificial method of patching up my one stratagem I may yet put in practice, and it other disappointment.
is an honest one. The thought was lucky. I will Bel. More miracles still! She has not only about it instantly. Poor Modely! How has thy taught you to blush, but has absolutely made a vanity reduced thee ! man of honour of you !
SCENE I.-Scene continues.
Vanity is his ruling vice; an idle affectation of
success among the ladies, ubich makes tools ada Enter ARAMINTA and BELMOUR.
mire, and boys envy bim, is the master-passion Ara. You find, Mr Belmour, that I have seen of his giddy heart. The severe checks he has Four partialities, and, like a woman of honour, I met with to-day, have sufficiently opened bis unhave confessed my own. Your behaviour to your derstanding; and the real possession of one vafriend is generous beyond comparison, and I luable woman, whoni be dreads to lose, will soon could almost join in the little stratagem you pro- convince him how despicable his folly has ma:le pore, merely to see if he deserves it.
him. Bel. Indeed, madam, you mistake him utterly. Ara. I am afraid, Mr Belmour, a man who
has, half his life, been pursuing bubbles, without the world, they only, in my eye, make him more perceiving their insignificance, will be easily contemptible. tempted to resume the chase. The possession of Mode. This I can bear, sir John--because I one reality will bardly convince him that the rest have deserved it. were shadows. And a woman must be an idiot Sir John. You may think, perhaps, it is only indeed, who thinks of fixing a man to herself af- an idle affair with a lady, what half mankind are ter marriage, whom she could not secure before guilty of, and what the conceited wits of your it. To begin with insensibility !-0 fy, Mr acquaintance will treat with raillery. Faith with Modely!
a woman! ridiculous !--But let me tell
you, Mr Bel. You need not fear it, madam; his heart, Modely, the man who, even slightly, deceives a
Ara. Is as idle as our conversation on the sub- believing and a trusting woman, can never be a ject. I beg your pardon for the comparison, as man of honour. I do, for having sent for you in this manner. But Mode. I own the truth of your assertions. I I thought it necessary, that both you and Mr feel the awful superiority of your real virtue. Modely should know my real sentiments, undis- Nor should any thing have dragged me into your guised by passion.
presence, so much I dreaded it, but the sincerest Bel. And may I hope you will concur in my hope of making you happy. proposal?
Sir John. Making me happy, Mr Modely ! Ara. I don't know what to say to it; it is a You have put it out of your own power. [Walks piece of mummery, which I am ill suited for at from him, then turns to him again.) You mean, present. But if an opportunity should offer, I | I suppose, by a resignation of Celia to me? must confess I have enough of the woman in me, Mode. Not of Celia only, but her affections. not to be insensible to the charms of an innocent Sir John. Vain and impotent proposal ! revenge. But this other intricate business, if you Mode. Sir John, 'tis not a time for altercation, can assist me in that, you will oblige me beyond By all my hopes of bliss here and hereafter, you measure. They are two hearts, Mr Belmour, are the real passion of her soul! Look not so worthy to be united! Had my brother a little unbelieving: hy Heaven 'tis true! and nothing less honour, and she a little less sensibility---But but an artful insinuation of your never intending I know not what to think of it.
to marry her, and even concurring in our affair, Bel. In that, madam, I can certainly assist could ever have made her listen one moment to you. Ara. How, dear Mr Belmour?
Sir John. Why do I hear you I-0, Mr ModeBel. I have been a witness, unknown to Celia, ly, you touch my weakest part ! to such a conversation, as will clear up every Mode. Cherish the tender feeling, and be doubt sir John can possibly have entertained.
Ara. You charm me when you say so. As I Sir John. Is it possible that amiable creature live, here comes my brother ! Stay; is not that can think and talk tenderly of me? I know ber wretch, Modely, with him? He is actually. generosity; but generosity is not the point. What can his assurance be plotting now? Come Mode. Believe me, sir, 'tis more; 'uis real unthis
way, Mr Belmour; we will watch them at a affected passion. Her innocent soul speaks distance, that no harm may happen between through her eyes the honest dictates of her them, and talk to the girl first. The monster! heart. In our last conference, notwithstanding
[Ereunt. her mother's commands; notwithstanding---what I Enter Sir John DORILANT and MODELY.
blush to own-my utmost ardent solicitations to
the contrary, she persisted in her integrity, tore Mode. [Entering, and looking after ArA. and the papers which left her choice free, and created BEL.] They are together still! But let me re us with an indignation which added charms to sume my nobler self.
virtue. Sir John. Why will you follow me, Mr Mode Sir John. O these flattering sounds !-Would ly? I have purposely avoided you. My heart I could believe then ! swells with indignation. I know nøt what may Mode. Belntour, as well as myself, and lady be the consequence.
Beverley, was a witness of the truth of them. I Mode. Upon my honour, sir John
thought it my duty to inform you, as I know Sir John. Honour, Mr Modely! 'tis a sacred your delicacy with regard to her. And indeed I word. You ought to shudder when you pronounce would in some measure endeavour to repair the it. Honour has no existence but in the breast of injuries I have offered to your family, beiore I truth. Tis the harmonious result of every virtue leave it for ever---0, sir John, let not an illcombined. You have sense, you have knowledge; I judged nicety debar you from a happiness, which but, I can assure you, Mr Modely, thongh parts stands with open arms to receive you. Think and knowledge, without the dictates of justice, or what my folly' has lost in Aramipta; and, when the feelings of humanity, may make a bold and your indignation at the attront is a little respited, nuischievous member of society even courted by be blest yourself, aud picy me-[As he goes oal,