cruising under false colours, as you would call it. Harry. Ah, sir, then I suppose you expect that he should face to the right about, and beat a retreat, as you would call it. Hardy. No, you jackanapes, I neither expect nor intend any such thing. I intend to humour the deception, and then take him by surprise. Phebe. [Aside. You have but one chance for it, sir, confess at once-confess. Harry. Our only hope, I believe. Then what if he should confess his error, ask pardon for his indiscretion, and throw himself on your mercy. Hardy. Why then I should say, take my daughter, and may you be happy to gether. Harry. Would you, sir, why then[Taking ELIZA by the hand and turning towards him. Hardy. But not so fast. You don't know your uncle, yet, Frank. I'll first punish him for his impertinence. How dare he, when it is settled that he shall marry my Lizzy, presume to have a choice of his own? And because he has not yet seen her, how dare he Eliza. Not yet seen me! who are you talking about, 'pa? Hardy. Your intended husband to be sure, Mr.[SIMON enters. Simon. Mr. Paul Pry. Hardy. Confound Mr. Paul Pry! Eternally that Mr. Paul Pry. My compliments, and I am not at home. [Exit SIMON.] I guess what his important business is likely to be. He comes to look for a shoestring, or tell me some nonsensical event that has occurred in the neigh borhood. Pry. [Without.] Pooh, pooh, this is no time for ceremony, so see him I must. Phebe. I am superstitious about that Mr. Pry. A winding-sheet in the candle, or spilling the salt, is less ominous of evil, than the approach of that man. Enter PAUL PRY. Pry. Colonel, you must pardon the intrusion, but I come to tell you Hardy. Well, be quick, Whose cat in the village has kittened? How many blind puppies have your neighbors drowned? Come, inflict upon me the full and true particulars, and make an end of it. Pry. Colonel, I don't understand. There is treason and a plot in the wind, and I came like a good-natured fool as I am, to put you on your guard. But there is no time to spare. He is now on his way hither. Hardy. He! and who is he? and what is he? Pry. An impostor-an adventurer-or something of that mysterious nature. A travelling gentleman, as he calls himself. He has just arrived, and luckily for you, I have wormed his intentions out of him. Hardy. Well, well, and what are his intentions? Pry. To get iuto your house under pretence of seeing your pictures-looking at your grounds Hardy. [Aside.] That's my man. Well, and what is there so extraordinary in that? Pry. Oh, nothing. But when a man talks about the object of his visit requiring the utmost secrecy and caution-when he asks suspicious questions Hardy. What do you call suspicious questions? Pry. First, he asked me whether you are of a hospitable turn, which I take to be very suspicious. If you had but seen him when I told him of the arrival of your nephew, Mr. Frank; hestaggeredabsolutely staggered. -" What his nephew!" says he, "Frank Hardy!" Eliza. To STANLEY.] Surely this must be my cousin Frank. Harry. I'll away, and prepare him. Phebe. No, leave that to me. My absence will not be remarked. [Exit. Hardy. Pray, did he mention his name? Pry. Name? Bless you, these fellows have a name for every town in the kingdom. He calls himself Snooks but Lord bless you Hardy. [Aside.] The cautious rogue But I'll be even with him. No no, it isn't my pictures he comes to see. Pry. You may well say that-[Aside.] This time, however, he will acknowledge his obligations to me. Hardy. Now, Mr. Pry, it is proper I should tell you, that I was already prepared for this visit. I know who the per. son is, and have most serious reasons for humouring his frolic. I know you to be a busy, meddling, talkative person, and therefore warn you, that if you breathe a hint of having put me on my guard, as you call it you know me, so I need say | left you playing with a doll, and find you manœuvering for a husband. This pretty no more. Pry. Well, between the two-Colonel maid has informed me of your proceed Hardy, you are a magistrate and I-I haven't a shilling about me, or I'd make oath in your presence never to do a goodnatured thing again whilst I live. [Exit. Harry. [Aside.] If I could but see him. Hadn't I better go and inquire into the truth of this, sir? That blundering booby confuses every thing. Hardy. No, sir, you will please stay where you are. [Crosses to ELIZA.] This is he, my love-this Mr. Snooks, as he calls himself, is the person you are to marry. Eliza. Oh, papa, and would you have me marry a man with such a name? I could not if he were a lord. Hardy. No, my dear, no-that is not his name. I may tell you now-his name is-no, I won't. His project in this incognito, and mine in humouring it, might both be defeated, by your inadvertently naming him-so 'tis safe as it is. [To himself.] But I forget my prisoners. Frank, I have business that will occupy me for a few minutes in my study. Should this gentleman arrive before my return, you, as my nephew, will do the honours for me; and you, my little darling, will remember, that as he is your intended husband, you must endeavour-but I need say no more; that hint is always sufficient to put a woman to her sweetest looks and best behaviour. [Exit. Harry. I am in a pleasant dilemma here. Should this be Frank, I must cease to act your cousin. Should it be the person your father expects, good bye to my hopes of becoming your husband. Enter PHEВЕ. Phebe. Where is the Colonel? Phebe. 'Tis Mr. Frank himself. But be not alarmed, I have prepared him by a hasty narrative of the events of the morning, and he has promised to make one of our party. You may come in, sir. Enter FRANK HARDY. Frank. My dear cousin! [Embraces ELIZA.] What, Harry, my old shipmate? Eliza. And is this my little cousin Frank? How much he has grown since he was a little boy! Frank. We are both somewhat changed. I left home a boy, and returned a man. I ings. But pray, my dear fellow, does it occur to you that we are in a devil of a scrape here? Harry. And pray, my dear fellow, does it occur to you how I am to get out of it? Frank. [Pointing to the window.] That seems the shortest way. Harry. That way led me into it, and I never take the same road twice. Frank. But since my uncle doesn't expect two nephews, one of us must abdicate. Phebe. I hope you didn't come all the way from the antipodes to tell us that, sir. That must be the end of it, we know: but if you were at all acquainted with your uncle's character, you would conceive that there might be some danger in an abrupt disclosure of the deception we have been forced to put upon him. Frank. How forced? Phebe. Why, as I told you by the way, sir, to prevent lord knows what mischief. Frank. Harkye, you and I are old friends; you love my cousin, she loves you, and if my assistance is likely to promote your union, you may command it. Would your father consent to it? Harry. I doubt that, for he has a scheme of his own for my marriage. So my notion is to marry first, and ask his consent afterwards. Eliza. Stop, I have an idea. Phebe. [Aside.] At last! If it be really an idea, she never came honestly by itHush! I tremble at every sound. I'll go and see what it is. [Exit. Harry. Now for your idea. Eliza. I dread my 'pa's anger, and dare not see him till he is pacified. Now if Harry were to force me to run away with him, whilst you Frank. That is a step I wish not to sanction. Be prudent, or I abandon you. But pray tell, since I am not to be myself, who am I? Harry. Why the Colonel expects his protégé. He believes you are the person and-Hush! he's here. Frank. That will never do, for should he really arrive, our difficulty would be increased-and Harry. [Aside.] I long to throw myself into his arms, yet dare not. [They retire. Enter HARDY. Harry. [To ELIZA.] Come, and thank Hardy. We have despatched the letter, heaven for this respite. and if that fail to arouse old Witherton to a sense of his humiliation-[Aside.] ha, there he is. Now I'll teach him to come here and take my whole family as it were on trial. [FRANK advances.] I believe I have the honour of addressing the travelling gentleman who has expressed a desire to see my pictures. Frank. Sir-I Hardy. Sir, I entreat you will use no Hardy. What the deuce Frank-[Separates them.] Do the civil thing to the travelling gentleman. Will it be in any way disagreeable to you, sir, to give my daughter your arm? Frank. Let this attest, that it is the most agreeable thing you could have proposed to me, sir. Hardy. [Aside.] I am sorry it is so. I almost wish he had disliked her, that his ceremony - visit my grounds-examine marriage might have been a punishment my furniture-settle your opinion upon every thing and every body in my house. -This is my daughter. [Takes her by the hand.] My daughter, sir-you understand. I hope you like her. This is my nephew, Frank. What is your opinion of him! How d'ye like me? Frank. So well, sir, that if I were to choose an uncle for myself, you would be the very man. Hardy. Well, that's one point in our favour. But we have not done yet-my dinners-my wines-it is important that those should be to your satisfaction, young gentleman;-so I shall request the satisfaction of your company at dinner to-day. Frank. Ay, sir, and to-morrow, and every day for a month to come, if you please. Hardy. And if any thing in my house, dead or alive, should displease you, you understand-pray use no ceremony in mentioning it. Frank. [Aside.] What the deuce does he mean? Sir, I assure you that every thing here is perfectly to my taste. Hardy. If not, Mr. Snooks has but to gallop to town again, and no party you understand is compromised by his visit. Frank. Upon my soul, sir, I do not understand-but Snooks-oh, I perceive the chattering fellow I met at the inn, has spoken to you about me, and be hanged to him. Hardy. No matter, sir, I am very proud of the honour you intend me, and let that suffice. Harry. [Aside to Frank.] Don't contradict him, or he'll talk for a month. Hardy. And now, sir, that no time may be lost, suppose you commence your inspection at once by a ramble about my grounds. If you please, my daughter shall accompany you: but if that is in the least disagreeable, pray say so. to him for presuming to have a choice of his own. But his father will soon be here and then Enter PHEBE, with a key. Well, what is the matter with you? What has alarmed you? Is the house on fire? Why don't you answer? Phebe. Alarmed! no, sir, I am not alarmed; but Grasp, Mr. Witherton's steward, wishes to see you-and running to tell you has taken my breath away, that's all, sir. Hardy. So, the letter has produced its effect, I imagine. Phebe. He seems in a violent rage, so pray go to him, sir, go. Hardy. Well, why need you be so alarmed about it? But you have nerves, I suppose. Ah, the luxury and refinement of the times! Here's a chambermaid sent into the world with as fine a set of nerves as a duchess. I'll go to the man. You'll excuse me for a short time, Mr. travelling gentleman; Frank and my daughter will supply my place. [Exit. Eliza. Phebe, what are you so flurried about? Is it really Mr. Grasp, or have you deceived my 'pa? Phebe. No, Miss, no, that's true enough - but I wish it were the whole truth. He's come at last and I have him under lock and key. Eliza. Who, the young man? Phebe. Young! why, Miss, he's fifty. Harry. You have mistaken the person, then; 'tis a young man the Colonel expects. Phebe. The Colonel speaks of him as he was, when they were associates, without considering how many years have passed since. I am certain 'tis he, for he asked to see the bride-that was enough for me. I thrust him into the breakfast parlour, and locked the door. Here, take Harry. They'll be easily settled; [Takes the key. I have but one way of treating with a rival. Either he must relinquish his claim, or I shall leave the point to be argued by a brace of the most persuasive tongues of any in the kingdom. Come with me, Frank. stranger; but that young man shall sup ply his place. Enter SERVANT with a letter. Desire Mr. Willis to come to me. Serv. Mr. Willis is gone, sir-and here is a letter for you, sir. [Exit. With. Gone! what does he mean? [Opens the letter.] and a letter from Marian. [Reads hastily.] What do I read? "Mrs. Subtle's tyranny, her overbearing insolence-unable any longer to endure it by at once quitting your house, and stay where you are. You are too deeply with unfeigned sorrow and regret I do so, interested in the issue to be as cool as I am but anticipating my intended discircumstances may require; so leave the missal. Willis, for reasons which you interview entirely to me. shall know hereafter, has resolved to ac Frank. Hold, you have chosen to be my representative with my uncle, I shall therefore take your place with your rival, and try what may be done by more temperate measures. Come, come, Harry, relinquishing your protection, and 'tis Harry. On one condition, I will; that company me." - Marian! Marian! my if you do not succeed in persuading him poor Marian! Driven from my houseto abandon the engagement he is under Willis too. Does she already so prewith your uncle, you will then turn my sume? I see my conduct now must degentleman over to my care, and I warrant termine the character I am to maintain hereafter. I must teach her that I can you Frank. Say no more, 'tis granted. Come, be master or sink for ever into the abject Phebe, show me to the dragon I am to vanquish. Eliza. And tell him, Frank, that I can never love him-that we shall never be happy together-and that though I may be obliged to marry him to please my 'pa, I shall never do any thing to please him. [Exeunt HARRY and ELIZA-FRANK. Phebe. Well, when I marry, I'll not leave the choice of a partner to the Colonel. The man would be well enough for a grandfather, but for a husband-Miss Simpleton has entered much better for herself. Her Harry is a dashing fellow, that's the truth on't. Here are some verses he just slipped into my hand. [Reads.] Well, his compliment is pretty enough, but I can't say much for its novelty. He compares my lips to cherries. Whilst Mr. Frank is gone for the letter, I'll get them by heart. [Exit. SCENE III.- At WITHERTON'S- Enter WITHERTON. With. Marry!-at the very sound I feel myself a happy and contented man. Marry! and yet at my age 'tis a step which ought not to be inconsiderately taken. Willis, [Rings.] his advice has served me on more than one occasion. Ah, had my nephew been where he ought, I had not needed the friendship of a slave. Enter MRS. SUBTLE. Mrs. S. The papers are destroyed-and now With. So, Mrs. Subtle, where is Marian? where is Willis? Mrs. S. Gone! With. By whose authority are they dismissed? yours? Mrs. S. [Astonished at his authoritative tone.] Why, how is this? Rebellion? With. Have you done this, I say? Mrs. S. No. And if I had, give me leave to say, sir With. I perceive your error: let me correct it while there is yet time. He that has occasionally endured the control of a servant, may yet revolt at the dominion of a wife. Remember, besides, you assume the mistress somewhat prematurely. Let Willis and Marian be recalled. Mrs. S. [Aside. Is this possible? I know not where they are, sir. With. Restore them to my house, or- Mrs. S. [In tears.] I deserve this. Oh, woman! would you make a man your tyrant, you need but avow to him that you love. 'Tis clear you wish me gone. With. No, Mrs. Subtle, no-but let them be recalled. Mrs. S. They shall be sought after. But was this well? do I deserve this unkindness? Marian is young and handsome; and if her presence here displeased me, could you divine no excusable motive for my displeasure? With. Well, dear Mrs. Subtle, say no more. I was perhaps too hasty. Ah, here comes Hardy. Enter HARDY. Hardy. So, what is this I hear? You have dismissed Willis-poor Marian toothose whom I recommended to your care. With. Well, well, and were it so, am I not master in my own house? Hardy. No, there's the master of you, and your house too. But I'm aware of your intentions. Marry your housekeeper! How old are you? Are you out of your teens? You have long since arrived at the age of maturity, we'll say nothing about years of discretion. With. Colonel, this is my house. Hardy. I understand and when I have performed my errand, I'll leave you to the full enjoyment of it. If you marry, what is to become of your nephew? Though when the settlements are drawn, I dare say Mrs. Subtle will take care the poor fellow shall be amply provided-for [To her.] you always have been the friend of poor sinners, you know. Mrs. S. [Aside.] Ah, is he there? With. Provide for him! I'll cut him off with a shilling. Hardy. Do what? Do you know the meaning of that trivial, dreadful phrase? Would you carry your resentment beyond the grave? A'n't you satisfied to enjoy the pleasure of revenge as long as you live? Surely that is long enough for the bestfor the worst of us. When we die, 'tis time our resentment should expire too. friendship. With. You will be silent on the subject of my nephew, if you wish to preserve my Hardy. 'Tis to render you worthy of mine, that I speak. But this is no time for ceremony; your eyes must be opened. Here, Grasp. Enter GRASP. You have for years been the dupe of this precious pair-poor Somers traduced-his letters-yours suppressed-falsified. This honest gentleman, doubtful of being able to persuade you of the truth of his confession, has taken the surer way of making it to me. With. I was already prepared for something of this nature, but he has deceived you; his motives are not unknown to me. Mrs. S. Let him speak, sir. What intrigues he may have carried on against your nephew, I know not. Whatever he would cha charge upon me, he must prove. His word, under present circumstances, is as nothing. Hardy. I would give as little for the fellow's word as you would, who seems to know its great value. So, come, sir, to the proofs you told me of. Mrs. S. Ay, now-villain! Grasp. Aye, now you shall feel what it is to make a dupe of me. [Exit. Hardy. Now when your eyes are opened, perhaps you will have no objection to acknowledge that you perceive the light of the sun. With. '"Tis a wicked imposture of histhe petty revenge of disappointed hope. Mrs. S. Let them proceed, sir. Re-enter GRASP. Grasp. They are stolen-I am robbed. [To MRS. SUBTLE.] 'Tis you have done this. With. What say you? Grasp. [To HARDY.] The papers I told you of 'twas but this morning I saw them there-my desk has been opened-You, [TO MRS. SUBTLE] you alone had a motive for doing this. With. The trick is evident. Deliver up your keys, and quit my house. Hardy. There can be no objection to that. There will be one rogue the fewer in it. [To GRASP.] Do you persist in the truth of the disclosure you made to me? Grasp. It matters not. You see which way the wind blows. 'Tis clear, whatever may happen, I can no longer remain here. [To WITHERTON.] Your blind folly deserves a bitter punishment-marry her. Hardy. [To MRS. SUBTLE.] Now I dare say you consider this a triumph, but I have yet [Exit. Mrs. S. Mr. Witherton, what further insult am I to receive at the hands of this gentleman? Hardy. Hey-day! With. Colonel Hardy, I beg you will recollect that this lady is to become Hardy. Lady! Well, then, my lady pickle and preserve, since it must be so. |