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diff --git a/3480-h/3480-h.htm b/3480-h/3480-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ffa4f78 --- /dev/null +++ b/3480-h/3480-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3764 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Hunchback</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Hunchback, by James Sheridan Knowles</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Hunchback, by James Sheridan Knowles, +Edited by Henry Morley + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Hunchback + + +Author: James Sheridan Knowles + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: October 8, 2007 [eBook #3480] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNCHBACK*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1887 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>THE HUNCHBACK.</h1> +<h1>THE LOVE-CHASE.</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES</p> +<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL & COMPANY, <span +class="smcap">Limited</span>:<br /> +<i><span class="smcap">london</span></i>, <i><span +class="smcap">paris</span></i>, <i><span class="smcap">new york & +melbourne</span></i>.<br /> +1887.</p> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> +<p>James Sheridan Knowles was born at Cork in 1784, and died at Torquay in +December, 1862, at the age of 78. His father was a teacher of +elocution, who compiled a dictionary, and who was related to the +Sheridans. He moved to London when his son was eight years old, and +there became acquainted with William Hazlitt and Charles Lamb. The +son, after his school education, obtained a commission in the army, but +gave up everything for the stage, and made his first appearance at the Crow +Street Theatre, in Dublin. He did not become a great actor, and when +he took to writing plays he did not prove himself a great poet, but his +skill in contriving situations through which a good actor can make his +powers tell upon the public, won the heart of the great actor of his day, +and as Macready’s own poet he rose to fame.</p> +<p>Before Macready had discovered him, Sheridan Knowles lived partly by +teaching elocution at Belfast and Glasgow, partly by practice of elocution +as an actor. In 1815 he produced at the Belfast Theatre his first +play, <i>Caius Gracchus</i>. His next play, <i>Virginius</i> was +produced at Glasgow with great success. Macready, who had, at the age +of seventeen, begun his career as an actor at his father’s theatre in +Birmingham, had, on Monday, October 5th, 1819, at the age of twenty-six, +taken the Londoners by storm in the character of Richard III Covent Garden +reopened its closed treasury. It was promptly followed by a success +in <i>Coriolanus</i>, and Macready’s place was made. He was at +once offered fifty pounds a night for appearing on one evening a week at +Brighton. It was just after that turn in Macready’s fortunes +that a friend at Glasgow recommended to him the part of Virginius in +Sheridan Knowles’s play lately produced there. He agreed +unwillingly to look at it, and says that in April, 1820, the parcel +containing the MS. came as he was going out. He hesitated, then sat +down to read it that he might get a wearisome job over. As he read, +he says, “The freshness and simplicity of the dialogue fixed my +attention; I read on and on, and was soon absorbed in the interest of the +story and the passion of its scenes, till at its close I found myself in +such a state of excitement that for a time I was undecided what step to +take. Impulse was in the ascendant, and snatching up my pen I +hurriedly wrote, as my agitated feelings prompted, a letter to the author, +to me then a perfect stranger.” Bryan Procter (Barry Cornwall) +read the play next day with Macready, and confirmed him in his admiration +of it.</p> +<p>Macready at once got it accepted at the theatre, where nothing was spent +on scenery, but there was a good cast, and the enthusiasm of Macready as +stage manager for the occasion half affronted some of his seniors. On +the 17th of May, 1820, about a month after it came into Macready’s +hands, <i>Virginius</i> was produced at Covent Garden, where, says the +actor in his “Reminiscences,” “the curtain fell amidst +the most deafening applause of a highly-excited auditory.” +Sheridan Knowles’s fame, therefore, was made, like that of his friend +Macready, and the friendship between author and actor continued. +Sheridan Knowles had a kindly simplicity of character, and the two +qualities for which an actor most prizes a dramatist, skill in providing +opportunities for acting that will tell, and readiness to make any changes +that the actor asks for. The postscript to his first letter to +Macready was, “Make any alterations you like in any part of the play, +and I shall be obliged to you.” When he brought to the great +actor his play of <i>William Tell</i>—<i>Caius Gracchus</i> had been +produced in November, 1823—there were passages of writing in it that +stopped the course of action, and, says Macready, “Knowles had less +of the tenacity of authorship than most writers,” so that there was +no difficulty about alterations, Macready having in a very high degree the +tenacity of actorship. And so, in 1825, <i>Tell</i> became another of +Macready’s best successes.</p> +<p>Sheridan Knowles continued to write for the stage until 1845, when he +was drawn wholly from the theatre by a religious enthusiasm that caused +him, in 1851, to essay the breaking of a lance with Cardinal Wiseman on the +subject of Transubstantiation. Sir Robert Peel gave ease to his +latter days by a pension of £200 a year from the Civil List, which he +had honourably earned by a career as dramatist, in which he sought to +appeal only to the higher sense of literature, and to draw enjoyment from +the purest source. Of his plays time two comedies <a +name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1" class="citation">[1]</a> here +given are all that have kept their place upon the stage. As one of +the most earnest dramatic writers of the present century he is entitled to +a little corner in our memory. Worse work of the past has lasted +longer than the plays of Sheridan Knowles are likely to last through the +future.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">H. M.</p> +<h3>THE HUNCHBACK.</h3> +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> +<p>(AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT COVENT GARDEN IN 1832.)</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Julia</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Miss F. <span class="smcap">Kemble</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Helen</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Miss <span class="smcap">Taylor</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Master Walter</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. J. S. <span class="smcap">Knowles</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Sir Thomas Clifford</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. C. <span class="smcap">Kemble</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Lord Tinsel</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Wrench</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Master Wilford</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. J. <span class="smcap">Mason</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Modus</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Abbott</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Master Heartwell</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Evans</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Gaylove</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Henry</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Fathom</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Meadows</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Thomas</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Barnes</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Stephen</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Payne</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Williams</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Irwin</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Simpson</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Brady</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Waiter</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Heath</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Holdwell</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Bender</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Servants</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. J. <span class="smcap">Cooper</span>.<br /> +Mr. <span class="smcap">Lollett</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h3>ACT I.</h3> +<h4>SCENE I.—A Tavern.</h4> +<p>On one side <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas Clifford</span>, at a table, +with wine before him; on the other, <span class="smcap">Master +Wilford</span>, <span class="smcap">Gaylove</span>, <span +class="smcap">Holdwell</span>, and <span class="smcap">Simpson</span>, +likewise taking wine.</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. Your wine, sirs! your wine! You do not justice +to mine host of the Three Tuns, nor credit to yourselves; I swear the +beverage is good! It is as palatable poison as you will purchase +within a mile round Ludgate! Drink, gentlemen; make free. You +know I am a man of expectations; and hold my money as light as the purse in +which I carry it.</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. We drink, Master Wilford. Not a man of us has +been chased as yet.</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. But you fill not fairly, sirs! Look at my +measure! Wherefore a large glass, if not for a large draught? +Fill, I pray you, else let us drink out of thimbles! This will never +do for the friends of the nearest of kin to the wealthiest peer in +Britain.</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect of +advancement which has so unexpectedly opened to you.</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. Unexpectedly indeed! But yesterday arrived the +news that the Earl’s only son and heir had died; and to-day has the +Earl himself been seized with a mortal illness. His dissolution is +looked for hourly; and I, his cousin in only the third degree, known to him +but to be unnoticed by him—a decayed gentleman’s son—glad +of the title and revenues of a scrivener’s clerk—am the +undoubted successor to his estates and coronet.</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Have you been sent for?</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. No; but I have certified to his agent, Master Walter, +the Hunchback, my existence, and peculiar propinquity; and momentarily +expect him here.</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Lives there anyone that may dispute your claim—I +mean vexatiously?</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. Not a man, Master Gaylove. I am the sole +remaining branch of the family tree.</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Doubtless you look for much happiness from this change +of fortune?</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. A world! Three things have I an especial +passion for. The finest hound, the finest horse, and the finest wife +in the kingdom, Master Gaylove!</p> +<p>Gay. The finest wife?</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. Yes, sir; I marry. Once the earldom comes into +my line, I shall take measures to perpetuate its remaining there. I +marry, sir! I do not say that I shall love. My heart has +changed mistresses too often to settle down in one servitude now, +sir. But fill, I pray you, friends. This, if I mistake not, is +the day whence I shall date my new fortunes; and, for that reason, hither +have I invited you, that, having been so long my boon companions, you shall +be the first to congratulate me.</p> +<p>[Enter Waiter]</p> +<p><i>Waiter</i>. You are wanted, Master Wilford.</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. By whom?</p> +<p><i>Waiter</i>. One Master Walter.</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. His lordship’s agent! News, sirs! +Show him in!</p> +<p>[Waiter goes out]</p> +<p>My heart’s a prophet, sirs—The Earl is dead.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span>]</p> +<p>Well, Master Walter. How accost you me?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. As your impatience shows me you would have me.<br /> +My Lord, the Earl of Rochdale!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Give you joy!</p> +<p><i>Hold</i>. All happiness, my lord!</p> +<p><i>Simp</i>. Long life and health unto your lordship!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Come!<br /> +We’ll drink to his lordship’s health! ’Tis two +o’clock,<br /> +We’ll e’en carouse till midnight! Health, my lord!</p> +<p><i>Hold</i>. My lord, much joy to you!</p> +<p><i>Simp</i>. All good to your lordship!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Give something to the dead!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Give what?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Respect!<br /> +He has made the living! First to him that’s gone,<br /> +Say “Peace!”—and then with decency to revels!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. What means the knave by revels?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Knave?</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Ay, knave!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Go to! Thou’rt flushed with wine!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Thou sayest false!<br /> +Though didst thou need a proof thou speakest true,<br /> +I’d give thee one. Thou seest but one lord here,<br /> +And I see two!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Reflect’st thou on my shape?<br /> +Thou art a villain!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. [Starting up.] Ha!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. A coward, too!<br /> +Draw!</p> +<p>[Drawing his sword.]</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. Only mark him! how he struts about!<br /> +How laughs his straight sword at his noble back.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Does it? It cuffs thee for a liar then!</p> +<p>[Strikes <span class="smcap">Gaylove</span> with his sword.]</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. A blow!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Another, lest you doubt the first!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. His blood on his own head! I’m for you, +sir!</p> +<p>[Draws.]</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Hold, sir! This quarrel’s mine!</p> +<p>[Coming forward and drawing.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. No man shall fight for me, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. By your leave,<br /> +Your patience, pray! My lord, for so I learn<br /> +Behoves me to accost you—for your own sake<br /> +Draw off your friend!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Not till we have a bout, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. My lord, your happy fortune ill you greet!<br /> +Ill greet it those who love you—greeting thus<br /> +The herald of it!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Sir, what’s that to you?<br /> +Let go my sleeve!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. My lord, if blood be shed<br /> +On the fair dawn of your prosperity,<br /> +Look not to see the brightness of its day.<br /> +’Twill be o’ercast throughout!</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. My lord, I’m struck!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. You gave the first blow, and the hardest one!<br /> +Look, sir; if swords you needs must measure, I’m<br /> +Your mate, not he!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I’m mate for any man!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Draw off your friend, my lord, for your own sake!</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. Come, Gaylove! let’s have another room.</p> +<p><i>Gay</i>. With all my heart, since ’tis your +lordship’s will.</p> +<p><i>Wilf</i>. That’s right! Put up! Come, +friends!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Wilford</span> and Friends go out.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I’ll follow him!<br /> +Why do you hold me? ’Tis not courteous of you!<br /> +Think’st thou I fear them? Fear! I rate them but<br /> +As dust! dross! offals! Let me at them!—Nay,<br /> +Call you this kind? then kindness know I not;<br /> +Nor do I thank you for’t! Let go, I say!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Nay, Master Walter, they’re not worth your +wrath.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. How know you me for Master Walter? By<br /> +My hunchback, eh!—my stilts of legs and arms,<br /> +The fashion more of ape’s than man’s? Aha!<br /> +So you have heard them, too—their savage gibes<br /> +As I pass on,—“There goes my lord!” aha!<br /> +God made me, sir, as well as them and you.<br /> +’Sdeath! I demand of you, unhand me, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. There, sir, you’re free to follow them! +Go forth,<br /> +And I’ll go too: so on your wilfulness<br /> +Shall fall whate’er of evil may ensue.<br /> +Is’t fit you waste your choler on a burr?<br /> +The nothings of the town; whose sport it is<br /> +To break their villain jests on worthy men,<br /> +The graver still the fitter! Fie for shame!<br /> +Regard what such would say? So would not I,<br /> +No more than heed a cur.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’re right, sir; right,<br /> +For twenty crowns! So there’s my rapier up!<br /> +You’ve done me a good turn against my will;<br /> +Which, like a wayward child, whose pet is off,<br /> +That made him restive under wholesome check,<br /> +I now right humbly own, and thank you for.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. No thanks, good Master Walter, owe you me!<br /> +I’m glad to know you, sir.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I pray you, now,<br /> +How did you learn my name? Guessed I not right?<br /> +Was’t not my comely hunch that taught it you?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I own it.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Right, I know it; you tell truth. I like you +for’t.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. But when I heard it said<br /> +That Master Walter was a worthy man,<br /> +Whose word would pass on ’change soon as his bond;<br /> +A liberal man—for schemes of public good<br /> +That sets down tens, where others units write;<br /> +A charitable man—the good he does,<br /> +That’s told of, not the half; I never more<br /> +Could see the hunch on Master Walter’s back!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You would not flatter a poor citizen?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Indeed, I flatter not!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I like your face—<br /> +A frank and honest one! Your frame’s well knit,<br /> +Proportioned, shaped!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Good sir!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Your name is Clifford—<br /> +Sir Thomas Clifford. Humph! You’re not the heir<br /> +Direct to the fair baronetcy? He<br /> +That was, was drowned abroad. Am I not right?<br /> +Your cousin, was’t not?—so succeeded you<br /> +To rank and wealth, your birth ne’er promised you.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I see you know my history.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I do.<br /> +You’re lucky who conjoin the benefits<br /> +Of penury and abundance; for I know<br /> +Your father was a man of slender means.<br /> +You do not blush, I see. That’s right! Why should you?<br +/> +What merit to be dropped on fortune’s hill?<br /> +The honour is to mount it. You’d have done it;<br /> +For you were trained to knowledge, industry,<br /> +Frugality, and honesty,—the sinews<br /> +That surest help the climber to the top,<br /> +And keep him there. I have a clerk, Sir Thomas,<br /> +Once served your father; there’s the riddle for you.<br /> +Humph! I may thank you for my life to-day.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I pray you say not so.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. But I will say so!<br /> +Because I think so, know so, feel so, sir!<br /> +Your fortune, I have heard, I think, is ample!<br /> +And doubtless you live up to’t?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. ’Twas my rule,<br /> +And is so still, to keep my outlay, sir,<br /> +A span within my means.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. A prudent rule!<br /> +The turf is a seductive pastime!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You keep a racing stud? You bet?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. No, neither.<br /> +’Twas still my father’s precept—“Better owe<br /> +A yard of land to labour, than to chance<br /> +Be debtor for a rood!”</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. ’Twas a wise precept.<br /> +You’ve a fair house—you’ll get a mistress for it?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. In time!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. In time! ’Tis time thy choice were +made.<br /> +Is’t not so yet? Or is thy lady love<br /> +The newest still thou seest?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Nay, not so.<br /> +I’d marry, Master Walter, but old use—<br /> +For since the age of thirteen I have lived<br /> +In the world—has made me jealous of the thing<br /> +That flattered me with hope of profit. Bargains<br /> +Another would snap up, might be for me:<br /> +Till I had turned and turned them! Speculations,<br /> +That promised, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty,<br /> +Ay, cent-per-cent. returns, I would not launch in,<br /> +When others were afloat, and out at sea;<br /> +Whereby I made small gains, but missed great losses.<br /> +As ever, then, I looked before I leaped,<br /> +So do I now.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thou’rt all the better for it!<br /> +Let’s see! Hand free—heart +whole—well-favoured—so!<br /> +Rich, titled! Let that pass!—kind, valiant, prudent—<br +/> +Sir Thomas, I can help thee to a wife,<br /> +Hast thou the luck to win her!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Master Walter!<br /> +You jest!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I do not jest. I like you! mark—<br /> +I like you, and I like not everyone!<br /> +I say a wife, sir, can I help you to,<br /> +The pearly texture of whose dainty skin<br /> +Alone were worth thy baronetcy! Form<br /> +And feature has she, wherein move and glow<br /> +The charms, that in the marble, cold and still,<br /> +Culled by the sculptor’s jealous skill and joinèd there,<br /> +Inspire us! Sir, a maid, before whose feet,<br /> +A duke—a duke might lay his coronet,<br /> +To lift her to his state, and partner her!<br /> +A fresh heart too!—a young fresh heart, sir; one<br /> +That Cupid has not toyed with, and a warm one—<br /> +Fresh, young, and warm! mark that! a mind to boot;<br /> +Wit, sir; sense, taste;—a garden strictly tended—<br /> +Where nought but what is costly flourishes!<br /> +A consort for a king, sir! Thou shalt see her!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I thank you, Master Walter! As you speak,<br /> +Methinks I see me at the altar-foot!<br /> +Her hand fast locked in mine!—the ring put on!<br /> +My wedding-bell rings merry in my ear;<br /> +And round me throng glad tongues that give me joy<br /> +To be the bridegroom of so fair a bride!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What! sparks so thick? We’ll have a blaze +anon!</p> +<p><i>Servant</i>. [Entering.] The chariot’s at the +door.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. It waits in time!<br /> +Sir Thomas, it shall bear thee to the bower<br /> +Where dwells this fair—for she’s no city belle,<br /> +But e’en a sylvan goddess!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Have with you!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’ll bless the day you served the Hunchback, +sir!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h4>SCENE II.—A Garden before a Country House.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Julia</span> and <span +class="smcap">Helen</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I like not, Julia, this your country life.<br /> +I’m weary on’t!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Indeed? So am not I!<br /> +I know no other; would no other know!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You would no other know! Would you not know<br +/> +Another relative?—another friend—<br /> +Another house—another anything,<br /> +Because the ones you have already please you?<br /> +That’s poor content! Would you not be more rich,<br /> +More wise, more fair? The song that last you learned<br /> +You fancy well; and therefore shall you learn<br /> +No other song? Your virginal, ’tis true,<br /> +Hath a sweet tone; but does it follow thence,<br /> +You shall not have another virginal?<br /> +You may, love, and a sweeter one; and so<br /> +A sweeter life may find than this you lead!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I seek it not. Helen, I’m constancy!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. So is a cat, a dog, a silly hen,<br /> +An owl, a bat,—where they are wont to lodge<br /> +That still sojourn, nor care to shift their quarters.<br /> +Thou’rt constancy? I am glad I know thy name!<br /> +The spider comes of the same family,<br /> +That in his meshy fortress spends his life,<br /> +Unless you pull it down and scare him from it.<br /> +And so thou’rt constancy? Ar’t proud of that?<br /> +I’ll warrant thee I’ll match thee with a snail<br /> +From year to year that never leaves his house!<br /> +Such constancy forsooth!—a constant grub<br /> +That houses ever in the self-same nut<br /> +Where he was born, till hunger drives him out,<br /> +Or plunder breaketh through his castle wall!<br /> +And so, in very deed, thou’rt constancy!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Helen, you know the adage of the tree;—<br /> +I’ve ta’en the bend. This rural life of mine,<br /> +Enjoined me by an unknown father’s will,<br /> +I’ve led from infancy. Debarred from hope<br /> +Of change, I ne’er have sighed for change. The town<br /> +To me was like the moon, for any thought<br /> +I e’er should visit it—nor was I schooled<br /> +To think it half so fair!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Not half so fair!<br /> +The town’s the sun, and thou hast dwelt in night<br /> +E’er since thy birth, not to have seen the town!<br /> +Their women there are queens, and kings their men;<br /> +Their houses palaces!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. And what of that?<br /> +Have your town-palaces a hall like this?<br /> +Couches so fragrant? walls so high-adorned?<br /> +Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen,<br /> +As these fair vistas have? Your kings and queens!<br /> +See me a May-day queen, and talk of them!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Extremes are ever neighbours. ’Tis a +step<br /> +From one to the other! Were thy constancy<br /> +A reasonable thing—a little less<br /> +Of constancy—a woman’s constancy—<br /> +I should not wonder wert thou ten years hence<br /> +The maid I know thee now; but, as it is,<br /> +The odds are ten to one, that this day year<br /> +Will see our May-day queen a city one!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Never! I’m wedded to a country life:<br +/> +O, did you hear what Master Walter says!<br /> +Nine times in ten the town’s a hollow thing,<br /> +Where what things are is nought to what they show;<br /> +Where merit’s name laughs merit’s self to scorn!<br /> +Where friendship and esteem that ought to be<br /> +The tenants of men’s hearts, lodge in their looks<br /> +And tongues alone. Where little virtue, with<br /> +A costly keeper, passes for a heap;<br /> +A heap for none that has a homely one!<br /> +Where fashion makes the law—your umpire which<br /> +You bow to, whether it has brains or not!<br /> +Where Folly taketh off his cap and bells,<br /> +To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest!<br /> +Where to pass current you must seem the thing,<br /> +The passive thing, that others think; and not<br /> +Your simple, honest, independent self!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Ay: so says Master Walter. See I not<br /> +What can you find in Master Walter, Julia,<br /> +To be so fond of him!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. He’s fond of me!<br /> +I’ve known him since I was a child. E’en then,<br /> +The week I thought a weary, heavy one,<br /> +That brought not Master Walter. I had those<br /> +About me then that made a fool of me,<br /> +As children oft are fooled; but more I loved<br /> +Good Master Walter’s lesson than the play<br /> +With which they’d surfeit me. As I grew up,<br /> +More frequent Master Walter came, and more<br /> +I loved to see him! I had tutors then,<br /> +Men of great skill and learning—but not one<br /> +That taught like Master Walter. What they’d show me,<br /> +And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw,—<br /> +A word from Master Walter made as clear<br /> +As daylight! When my schooling days were o’er—<br /> +That’s now good three years past—three years—I vow<br /> +I’m twenty, Helen!—well, as I was saying,<br /> +When I had done with school, and all were gone,<br /> +Still Master Walter came! and still he comes,<br /> +Summer or winter—frost or rain! I’ve seen<br /> +The snow upon a level with the hedge,<br /> +Yet there was Master Walter!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Who comes here?<br /> +A carriage, and a gay one—who alights?<br /> +Pshaw! Only Master Walter! What see you,<br /> +Which thus repairs the arch of the fair brow,<br /> +A frown was like to spoil?—A gentleman!<br /> +One of our town kings! Mark!—How say you now?<br /> +Wouldst be a town queen, Julia? Which of us,<br /> +I wonder, comes he for?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. For neither of us;<br /> +He’s Master Walter’s clerk, most like.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Most like!<br /> +Mark him as he comes up the avenue;<br /> +So looks a clerk! A clerk has such a gait!<br /> +So does a clerk dress, Julia!—mind his hose—<br /> +They’re very like a clerk’s! a diamond loop<br /> +And button, note you, for his clerkship’s hat,—<br /> +O, certainly a clerk! A velvet cloak,<br /> +Jerkin of silk, and doublet of the same,—<br /> +For all the world a clerk! See, Julia, see,<br /> +How Master Walter bows, and yields him place,<br /> +That he may first go in—a very clerk!<br /> +I’ll learn of thee, love, when I’d know a clerk!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I wonder who he is!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Wouldst like to know?<br /> +Wouldst for a fancy ride to town with him?<br /> +I prophesy he comes to take thee thither!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. He ne’er takes me to town! No, Helen, +no!<br /> +To town who will, a country life for me!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. We’ll see!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Fathom</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. You’re wanted, madam.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Embarrassed.] Which of us?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. You, madam.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Julia! what’s the matter? Nay,<br /> +Mount not the rose so soon! He must not see it<br /> +A month hence. ’Tis loves flower, which once she wears,<br /> +The maid is all his own.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Go to!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Be sure<br /> +He comes to woo thee! He will bear thee hence;<br /> +He’ll make thee change the country for the town.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I’m constancy. Name he the town to +me,<br /> +I’ll tell what I think on’t!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Then you guess<br /> +He comes a wooing?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I guess nought.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You do!<br /> +At your grave words, your lips, more honest, smile,<br /> +And show them to be traitors. Hie to him.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Hie thee to soberness.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Ay, will I, when,<br /> +Thy bridemaid, I shall hie to church with thee.<br /> +Well, Fathom, who is come?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I know not.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What! Didst thou not hear his name?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I did.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What is’t?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I noted not.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What hast thou ears for, then?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. What good were it for me to mind his name?<br /> +I do but what I must do. To do that<br /> +Is labour quite enough!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Without.] What, Fathom!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Here.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Entering.] Here, sirrah! Wherefore didst +not come to me?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. You did not bid me come.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I called thee.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Yes.<br /> +And I said “Here;” and waited then to know<br /> +Your worship’s will with me.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. We go to town.<br /> +Thy mistress, thou, and all the house.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Well, sir?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Mak’st thou not ready then to go to town?<br /> +Hence, knave, despatch!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Fathom</span> goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Go we to town?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. We do;<br /> +’Tis now her father’s will she sees the town.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’m glad on’t. Goes she to her +father?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. No:<br /> +At the desire of thine she for a term shares roof with thee.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’m very glad on’t.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What!<br /> +You like her, then? I thought you would. ’Tis time<br /> +She sees the town.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. It has been time for that<br /> +These six years.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. By thy wisdom’s count. No doubt<br /> +You’ve told her what a precious place it is.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I have.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I even guessed as much. For that<br /> +I told thee of her; brought thee here to see her;<br /> +And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her;<br /> +That its fair space, from thy too fair report,<br /> +Might strike a novice less—so less deceive her.<br /> +I did not put thee under check.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. ’Twas right,—<br /> +Else had I broken loose, and run the wilder!<br /> +So knows she not her father yet: that’s strange.<br /> +I prithee how does mine?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Well—very well.<br /> +News for thee.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thy cousin is in town.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. My cousin Modus?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Much do I suspect<br /> +That cousin’s nearer to thy heart than blood.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Pshaw! Wed me to a musty library!<br /> +Love him who nothing loves but Greek and Latin!<br /> +But, Master Walter, you forget the main<br /> +Surpassing point of all! Who’s come with you?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Ay, that’s the question!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Is he soldier or<br /> +Civilian? lord or gentleman? He’s rich,<br /> +If that’s his chariot! Where is his estate?<br /> +What brings it in? Six thousand pounds a year?<br /> +Twelve thousand, may be! Is he bachelor,<br /> +Or husband? Bachelor I’m sure he is<br /> +Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter?<br /> +Nay, prithee, answer me!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Who says thy sex<br /> +Are curious? That they’re patient, I’ll be sworn;<br /> +And reasonable—very reasonable—<br /> +To look for twenty answers in a breath!<br /> +Come, thou shalt be enlightened—but propound<br /> +Thy questions one by one! Thou’rt far too apt<br /> +A scholar! My ability to teach<br /> +Will ne’er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn.</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h4>SCENE III.—An Apartment in the House.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Julia</span>, followed by <span +class="smcap">Clifford</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. No more! I pray you, sir, no more!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I love you!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You mock me, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Then is there no such thing<br /> +On earth as reverence; honour filial, the fear<br /> +Of kings, the awe of supreme heaven itself,<br /> +Are only shows and sounds that stand for nothing.<br /> +I love you!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You have known me scarce a minute!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Say but a moment, still I say I love you!<br /> +Love’s not a flower that grows on the dull earth;<br /> +Springs by the calendar; must wait for the sun—<br /> +For rain;—matures by parts;—must take its time<br /> +To stem, to leaf, to bud, to blow. It owns<br /> +A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed!<br /> +You look for it, and see it not; and lo!<br /> +E’en while you look, the peerless flower is up.<br /> +Consummate in the birth!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Is’t fear I feel?<br /> +Why else should beat my heart? It can’t be fear!<br /> +Something I needs must say. You’re from the town;<br /> +How comes it, sir, you seek a country wife?<br /> +Methinks ’twill tax his wit to answer that.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. In joining contrasts lieth love’s delight.<br +/> +Complexion, stature, nature, mateth it,<br /> +Not with their kinds, but with their opposites.<br /> +Hence hands of snow in palms of russet lie;<br /> +The form of Hercules affects the sylph’s;<br /> +And breasts, that case the lion’s fear-proof heart,<br /> +Find their meet lodge in arms where tremors dwell!<br /> +Haply for this, on Afric’s swarthy neck,<br /> +Hath Europe’s priceless pearl been seen to hang,<br /> +That makes the orient poor! So with degrees,<br /> +Rank passes by the circlet-graced brow,<br /> +Upon the forehead, bare, of notelessness<br /> +To print the nuptial kiss. As with degrees<br /> +So is’t with habits; therefore I, indeed<br /> +A gallant of the town, the town forsake,<br /> +To win a country wife.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. His prompt reply<br /> +My backward challenge shames! Must I give o’er?<br /> +I’ll try his wit again. Who marries me<br /> +Must lead a country life.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. The life I’d lead!<br /> +But fools would fly from it; for O! ’tis sweet!<br /> +It finds the heart out, be there one to find;<br /> +And corners in’t where store of pleasures lodge,<br /> +We never dreamed were there! It is to dwell<br /> +’Mid smiles that are not neighbours to deceit;<br /> +Music, whose melody is of the heart;<br /> +And gifts, that are not made for interest,—<br /> +Abundantly bestowed by Nature’s cheek,<br /> +And voice, and hand! It is to live on life,<br /> +And husband it! It is to constant scan<br /> +The handiwork of Heaven. It is to con<br /> +Its mercy, bounty, wisdom, power! It is<br /> +To nearer see our God!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. How like he talks<br /> +To Master Walter! Shall I give it o’er?<br /> +Not yet. Thou wouldst not live one half a year!<br /> +A quarter mightst thou for the novelty<br /> +Of fields and trees; but then it needs must be<br /> +In summer time, when they go dressed.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Not it!<br /> +In any time—say winter! Fields and trees<br /> +Have charms for me in very winter time.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. But snow may clothe them then.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I like them full<br /> +As well in snow!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You do?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I do.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. But night<br /> +Will hide both snow and them, and that sets in<br /> +Ere afternoon is out. A heavy thing,<br /> +A country fireside in a winter’s night,<br /> +To one bred in the town,—where winter’s said,<br /> +For sun of gaiety and sportiveness,<br /> +To beggar shining summer.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I should like<br /> +A country winter’s night especially!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You’d sleep by the fire.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Not I; I’d talk to thee.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You’d tire of that!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I’d read to thee.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. And that!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I’d talk to thee again.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. And sooner tire<br /> +Than first you did, and fall asleep at last.<br /> +You’d never do to lead a country life.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. You deal too harshly with me! Matchless +maid,<br /> +As loved instructor brightens dullest wit,<br /> +Fear not to undertake the charge of me!<br /> +A willing pupil kneels to thee, and lays<br /> +His title and his fortune at your feet.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. His title and his fortune!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> and <span +class="smcap">Helen</span>.—<span class="smcap">Julia</span>, +disconcerted, retires with the latter.—<span +class="smcap">Clifford</span> rises.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. So, Sir Thomas!<br /> +Aha! you husband time! Well, was I right?<br /> +Is’t not the jewel that I told you ’twas?<br /> +Wouldst thou not give thine eyes to wear it? Eh?<br /> +It has an owner, though,—nay, start not,—one<br /> +That may be bought to part with’t, and with whom<br /> +I’ll stand thy friend—I will—I say, I will!<br /> +A strange man, sir, and unaccountable:<br /> +But I can humour him—will humour him<br /> +For thy sake, good Sir Thomas; for I like thee.<br /> +Well, is’t a bargain? Come, thy hand upon it.<br /> +A word or two with thee.</p> +<p>[They retire. <span class="smcap">Julia</span> and <span +class="smcap">Helen</span> come forward.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Go up to town!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Have I not said it ten times o’er to thee?<br +/> +But if thou likest it not, protest against it.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Not if ’tis Master Walter’s will.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What then?<br /> +Thou wouldst not break thy heart for Master Walter?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. That follows not!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What follows not?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. That I<br /> +Should break my heart, because we go to town.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Indeed?—Oh, that’s another matter. +Well,<br /> +I’d e’en advise thee then to do his will;<br /> +And, ever after, when I prophesy,<br /> +Believe me, Julia!</p> +<p>[They retire. <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> comes +forward.]</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Fathom</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. So please you, sir, a letter,—a post-haste +letter! The bearer on horseback, the horse in a foam—smoking +like a boiler at the heat—be sure a posthaste letter!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Look to the horse and rider.</p> +<p>[Opens the letter and reads.]</p> +<p>What’s this? A testament addressed to me,<br /> +Found in his lordship’s escritoire, and thence<br /> +Directed to be taken by no hand<br /> +But mine. My presence instantly required.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Thomas</span>, <span +class="smcap">Julia</span>, and <span class="smcap">Helen</span> come +forward.]</p> +<p>Come, my mistresses,<br /> +You dine in town to-day. Your father’s will,<br /> +It is, my Julia, that you see the world;<br /> +And thou shalt see it in its best attire.<br /> +Its gayest looks—its richest finery<br /> +It shall put on for thee, that thou may’st judge<br /> +Betwixt it, and this rural life you’ve lived.<br /> +Business of moment I’m but thus advised of,<br /> +Touching the will of my late noble master,<br /> +The Earl of Rochdale, recently deceased,<br /> +Commands me for a time to leave thee there.<br /> +Sir Thomas, hand her to the chariot. Nay,<br /> +I tell thee true. We go indeed to town!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h3>ACT II.</h3> +<h4>SCENE I.—An Apartment in Master Heartwell’s House.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Fathom</span> and <span +class="smcap">Thomas</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Well, Fathom, is thy mistress up?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. She is, Master Thomas, and breakfasted.</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. She stands it well! ’Twas five, you say, +when she came home; and wants it now three-quarters of an hour of +ten? Wait till her stock of country health is out.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. ’Twill come to that, Master Thomas, before she +lives another month in town! three, four, five six o’clock are now +the hours she keeps. ’Twas otherwise with her in the +country. There, my mistress used to rise what time she now lies +down.</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Why, yes; she’s changed since she came +hither.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Changed, do you say, Master Thomas? Changed, +forsooth! I know not the thing in which she is not changed, saving +that she is still a woman. I tell thee there is no keeping pace with +her moods. In the country she had none of them. When I brought +what she asked for, it was “Thank you, Fathom,” and no more to +do; but now, nothing contents her. Hark ye! were you a gentleman, +Master Thomas,—for then you know you would be a different kind of +man,—how many times would you have your coat altered?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Why, Master Fathom, as many times as it would take to +make it fit me.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Good! But, supposing it fitted thee at the +first?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Then would I have it altered not at all.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Good! Thou wouldst be a reasonable +gentleman. Thou wouldst have a conscience. Now hark to a tale +about my lady’s last gown. How many times, think you, took I it +back to the sempstress?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Thrice, may be.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Thrice, may be! Twenty times, may be; and not a +turn too many, for the truth on’t. Twenty times, on the oath of +the sempstress. Now mark me—can you count?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. After a fashion.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. You have much to be thankful for, Master +Thomas. You London serving-men have a world of things, which we in +the country never dream of. Now mark:—Four times took I it back +for the flounce; twice for the sleeves; three for the tucker—How many +times in all is that?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Eight times to a fraction, Master Fathom.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. What a master of figures you are! Eight +times—now recollect that! And then found she fault with the +trimmings. Now tell me, how many times took I back the gown for the +trimmings?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Eight times more, perhaps!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Ten times to a certainty. How many times makes +that?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Eighteen, Master Fathom, by the rule of addition.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. And how many times more will make twenty?</p> +<p>Thee. Twice, by the same rule.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Thou hast worked with thy pencil and slate, Master +Thomas! Well, ten times, as I said, took I back the gown for the +trimmings; and was she content after all? I warrant you no, or my +ears did not pay for it. She wished, she said, that the slattern +sempstress had not touched the gown, for nought had she done but botched +it. Now what think you had the sempstress done to the gown?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. To surmise that, I must be learned in the +sempstress’s art.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. The sempstress’s art! Thou hast hit +it! Oh, the sweet sempstress! the excellent sempstress! +Mistress of her scissors and needles, which are pointless and edgeless to +her art! The sempstress had done nothing to the gown; yet raves and +storms my mistress at her for having botched it in the making and mending; +and orders her straight to make another one, which home the sempstress +brings on Tuesday last.</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. And found thy fair mistress as many faults with +that?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Not one! She finds it a very pattern of a +gown! A well-sitting flounce! The sleeves a fit—the +tucker a fit—the trimmings her fancy to a T—ha! ha! ha! and she +praised the sempstress—ha! ha! ha! and she smiles at me, and I +smile—ha! ha! ha! and the sempstress smiles—ha! ha! ha! +Now, why did the sempstress smile?</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. That she had succeeded so well in her art.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Thou hast hit it again! The jade must have been +born a sempstress! If ever I marry, she shall work for my wife. +The gown was the same gown, and there was my mistress’s twentieth +mood!</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. What think you will Master Walter say when he comes +back? I fear he’ll hardly know his country maid again. +Has she yet fixed her wedding-day?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. She has, Master Thomas. I coaxed it from her +maid. She marries, Monday week.</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. Comes not Master Walter back to-day?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Your master expects him. [A ringing.] +Perhaps that’s he. I prithee go and open the door; do, Master +Thomas, do; for proves it my master, he’ll surely question me.</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. And what should I do?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Answer him, Master Thomas, and make him none the +wiser. He’ll go mad, when he learns how my lady flaunts +it! Go! open the door, I prithee. Fifty things, Master Thomas, +know you, for one thing that I know! You can turn and twist a matter +into any other kind of matter; and then twist and turn it back again, if +needs be; so much you servants of the town beat us of the country, Master +Thomas. Open the door, now; do, Master Thomas, do!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h4>SCENE II.—A Garden with two Arbours.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Heartwell</span> and <span +class="smcap">Master Walter</span> meeting.]</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Good Master Walter, welcome back again!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I’m glad to see you, Master Heartwell!</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. How,<br /> +I pray you, sped the mighty business which<br /> +So sudden called you hence?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Weighty, indeed!<br /> +What thou wouldst ne’er expect—wilt scarce believe!<br /> +Long-hidden wrong, wondrously come to light,<br /> +And great right done! But more of this anon.<br /> +Now of my ward discourse! Likes she the town?<br /> +How does she? Is she well? Canst match me her<br /> +Among your city maids?</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Nor court ones neither!<br /> +She far outstrips them all!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I knew she would.<br /> +What else could follow in a maid so bred?<br /> +A pure mind, Master Heartwell!—not a taint<br /> +From intercourse with the distempered town;<br /> +With which all contact was walled out, until,<br /> +Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it,<br /> +And sleep amidst infection!</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Master Walter!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Well?</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Tell me, prithee, which is likelier<br /> +To plough a sea in safety?—he that’s wont<br /> +To sail in it,—or he that by the chart<br /> +Is master of its soundings, bearings,—knows<br /> +Is headlands, havens, currents—where ’tis bold,<br /> +And where behoves to keep a good look-out.<br /> +The one will swim, where sinks the other one?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The drift of this?</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Do you not guess it?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Humph!</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. If you would train a maid to live in town,<br /> +Breed her not in the country!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Say you so?<br /> +And stands she not the test?</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. As snow stands fire!<br /> +Your country maid has melted all away,<br /> +And plays the city lady to the height;<br /> +Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners,<br /> +Shoemakers, jewellers, and haberdashers;<br /> +Her noons, to calls; her afternoons, to dressing;<br /> +Evenings, to plays and drums; and nights, to routs,<br /> +Balls, masquerades! Sleep only ends the riot,<br /> +Which waking still begins!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I’m all amaze!<br /> +How bears Sir Thomas this?</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Why, patiently;<br /> +Though one can see with pain.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. She loves him? Ha!<br /> +That shrug is doubt! She’d ne’er consent to wed him<br /> +Unless she loved him!—never! Her young fancy<br /> +The pleasures of the town—new things—have caught,<br /> +Anon their hold will slacken; she’ll become<br /> +Her former self again; to its old train<br /> +Of sober feelings will her heart return;<br /> +And then she’ll give it wholly to the man<br /> +Her virgin wishes chose!</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Here comes Sir Thomas;<br /> +And with him Master Modus.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Let them pass:<br /> +I would not see him till I speak with her.</p> +<p>[They retire into one of the Arbours.]</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Clifford</span> and <span +class="smcap">Modus</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. A dreadful question is it, when we love,<br /> +To ask if love’s returned! I did believe<br /> +Fair Julia’s heart was mine—I doubt it now!<br /> +But once last night she danced with me, her hand,<br /> +To this gallant and that engaged, as soon<br /> +As asked for? Maid that loved would scarce do this?<br /> +Nor visit we together as we used,<br /> +When first she came to town. She loves me less<br /> +Than once she did—or loves me not at all.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I’m little skilled, Sir Thomas, in the world:<br +/> +What mean you now to do?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Remonstrate with her;<br /> +Come to an understanding, and, at once,<br /> +If she repents her promise to be mine,<br /> +Absolve her from it—and say farewell to her.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Lo, then, your opportunity—she comes—<br +/> +My cousin also:—her will I engage,<br /> +Whilst you converse together.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Nay, not yet!<br /> +My heart turns coward at the sight of her.<br /> +Stay till it finds new courage! Let them pass.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Clifford</span> and <span +class="smcap">Modus</span> retire into the other Arbour.]</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Julia</span> and <span +class="smcap">Helen</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. So, Monday week will say good morn to thee<br /> +A maid, and bid good night a sober wife!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. That Monday week, I trust, will never come,<br /> +That brags to make a sober wife of me!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. How changed you are, my Julia!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Change makes change.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Why wedd’st thou, then?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Because I promised him!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Thou lovest him?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Do I?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. He’s a man to love!<br /> +A right well-favoured man!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Your point’s well favoured.<br /> +Where did you purchase it? In Gracechurch Street?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Pshaw! never mind my point, but talk of him.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I’d rather talk with thee about the lace.<br +/> +Where bought you it? In Gracechurch Street, Cheapside,<br /> +Whitechapel, Little Britain? Can’t you say<br /> +Where ’twas you bought the lace?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. In Cheapside, then.<br /> +And now, then, to Sir Thomas! He is just<br /> +The height I like a man.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Thy feather’s just<br /> +The height I like a feather! Mine’s too short!<br /> +What shall I give thee in exchange for it?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What shall I give thee for a minute’s talk<br +/> +About Sir Thomas?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Why, thy feather.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Take it!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. [Aside to <span class="smcap">Modus</span>.] +What, likes she not to speak of me?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And now<br /> +Let’s talk about Sir Thomas—much I’m sure<br /> +He loves you.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Much I’m sure, he has a right!<br /> +Those know I who would give their eyes to be<br /> +Sir Thomas, for my sake!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Such too, know I.<br /> +But ’mong them none that can compare with him,<br /> +Not one so graceful.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What a graceful set<br /> +Your feather has!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Nay, give it back to me,<br /> +Unless you pay me for’t.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What was’t to get?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. A minute’s talk with thee about Sir +Thomas.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Talk of his title, and his fortune then.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. [Aside.] Indeed! I would not listen, yet +I must!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. An ample fortune, Helen—I shall be<br /> +A happy wife! What routs, what balls, what masques,<br /> +What gala-days!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. [Aside.] For these she marries me!<br /> +She’ll talk of these!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Think not, when I am wed,<br /> +I’ll keep the house as owlet does her tower,<br /> +Alone,—when every other bird’s on wing.<br /> +I’ll use my palfrey, Helen; and my coach;<br /> +My barge, too, for excursion on the Thames:<br /> +What drives to Barnet, Hackney, Islington!<br /> +What rides to Epping, Hounslow, and Blackheath!<br /> +What sails to Greenwich, Woolwich, Fulham, Kew!<br /> +I’ll set a pattern to your lady wives!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. [Aside.] Ay, lady? Trust me, not at my +expense.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. And what a wardrobe! I’ll have change of +suits<br /> +For every day in the year! and sets for days!<br /> +My morning dress, my noon dress, dinner dress,<br /> +And evening dress! Then will I show you lace<br /> +A foot deep, can I purchase; if not,<br /> +I’ll specially bespeak it. Diamonds too!<br /> +Not buckles, rings, and earrings only—but<br /> +Whole necklaces and stomachers of gems!<br /> +I’ll shine! be sure I will.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. [Aside.] Then shine away;<br /> +Who covets thee may wear thee;—I’m not he!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. And then my title! Soon as I put on<br /> +The ring, I’m Lady Clifford. So I take<br /> +Precedence of plain mistress, were she e’en<br /> +The richest heiress in the land! At town<br /> +Or country ball, you’ll see me take the lead,<br /> +While wives that carry on their backs the wealth<br /> +To dower a princess, shall give place to me;—<br /> +Will I not profit, think you, by my right?<br /> +Be sure I will! marriage shall prove to me<br /> +A never-ending pageant. Every day<br /> +Shall show how I am spoused! I will be known<br /> +For Lady Clifford all the city through,<br /> +And fifty miles the country round about.<br /> +Wife of Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet—<br /> +Not perishable knight—who, when he makes<br /> +A lady of me, doubtless must expect<br /> +To see me play the part of one.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. [Coming forward.] Most true;<br /> +But not the part which you design to play.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. A listener, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. By chance, and not intent,<br /> +Your speech was forced upon mine ear, that ne’er<br /> +More thankless duty to my heart discharged!<br /> +Would for that heart it ne’er had known the sense<br /> +Which tells it ’tis a bankrupt, there, where most<br /> +It coveted to be rich, and thought it was so!<br /> +O Julia, is it you? Could I have set<br /> +A coronet upon that stately brow,<br /> +Where partial nature hath already bound<br /> +A brighter circlet—radiant beauty’s own—<br /> +I had been proud to see thee proud of it,<br /> +So for the donor thou hadst ta’en the gift,<br /> +Not for the gift ta’en him. Could I have poured<br /> +The wealth of richest Croesus in thy lap,<br /> +I had been blest to see thee scatter it,<br /> +So I was still thy riches paramount!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Know you me, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I do. On Monday week<br /> +We were to wed—and are—so you’re content;<br /> +The day that weds, wives you to be widowed. Take<br /> +The privilege of my wife; be Lady Clifford!<br /> +Outshine the title in the wearing on’t!<br /> +My coffers, lands, all are at thy command;<br /> +Wear all! but, for myself, she wears not me,<br /> +Although the coveted of every eye,<br /> +Who would not wear me for myself alone.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. And do you carry it so proudly, sir?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Proudly, but still more sorrowfully, lady!<br /> +I’ll lead thee to the church on Monday week.<br /> +Till then, farewell and then, farewell for ever!<br /> +O Julia, I have ventured for thy love,<br /> +As the bold merchant, who, for only hope<br /> +Of some rich gain, all former gains will risk.<br /> +Before I asked a portion of thy heart,<br /> +I perilled all my own; and now, all’s lost!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Clifford</span> and <span +class="smcap">Modus</span> go out.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Helen!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What ails you, sweet?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I cannot breathe—quick, loose my girdle, +oh!</p> +<p>[Faints.]</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> and <span class="smcap">Master +Heartwell</span> come forward.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Good Master Heartwell, help to take her in,<br /> +Whilst I make after him! and look to her!<br /> +Unlucky chance that took me out of town!</p> +<p>[They go out severally.]</p> +<h4>SCENE III.—The Street.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Clifford</span> and <span +class="smcap">Stephen</span>, meeting.]</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. Letters, Sir Thomas.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Take them home again,<br /> +I shall not read them now.</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. Your pardon, sir,<br /> +But here is one directed strangely.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. How?</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. “To Master Clifford, gentleman, now styled<br /> +Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet.”</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Indeed!<br /> +Whence comes that letter?</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. From abroad.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Which is it?</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. So please you, this, Sir Thomas.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Give it me.</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. That letter brings not news to wish him joy +upon. If he was disturbed before, which I guessed by his looks he +was, he is not more at ease now. His hand to his head! A most +unwelcome letter! If it brings him news of disaster, fortune does not +give him his deserts; for never waited servant upon a kinder master.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Stephen!</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. Sir Thomas!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. From my door remove<br /> +The plate that bears my name.</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. The plate, Sir Thomas!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. The plate—collect my servants and instruct +them<br /> +To make out each their claims, unto the end<br /> +Of their respective terms, and give them in<br /> +To my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow,<br /> +That I keep house no more. As you go home,<br /> +Call at my coachmaker’s and bid him stop<br /> +The carriage I bespoke. The one I have<br /> +Send with my horses to the mart whereat<br /> +Such things are sold by auction. They’re for sale;<br /> +Pack up my wardrobe, have my trunks conveyed<br /> +To the inn in the next street; and when that’s done,<br /> +Go round my tradesmen and collect their bills,<br /> +And bring them to me at the inn.</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. The inn!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Yes; I go home no more. Why, what’s the +matter?<br /> +What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up?<br /> +You’ll get another place. I’ll certify<br /> +You’re honest and industrious, and all<br /> +That a servant ought to be.</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. I see, Sir Thomas,<br /> +Some great misfortune has befallen you?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. No!<br /> +I have health; I have strength; my reason, Stephen, and<br /> +A heart that’s clear in truth, with trust in God.<br /> +No great disaster can befall the man<br /> +Who’s still possessed of these! Good fellow, leave me.<br /> +What you would learn, and have a right to know,<br /> +I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, hence!<br /> +Mischance has fallen on me—but what of that?<br /> +Mischance has fallen on many a better man.<br /> +I prithee leave me. I grow sadder while<br /> +I see the eye with which you view my grief.<br /> +’Sdeath, they will out! I would have been a man,<br /> +Had you been less a kind and gentle one.<br /> +Now, as you love me, leave me.</p> +<p><i>Ste</i>. Never master<br /> +So well deserved the love of him that served him.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Stephen</span> goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Misfortune liketh company; it seldom<br /> +Visits its friends alone. Ha! Master Walter,<br /> +And ruffled too. I’m in no mood for him.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. So, Sir—Sir Thomas Clifford! what with speed<br +/> +And choler—I do gasp for want of breath.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Well, Master Walter?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’re a rash young man, sir;<br /> +Strong-headed and wrong-headed, and I fear, sir,<br /> +Not over delicate in that fine sense<br /> +Which men of honour pride themselves upon!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Well, Master Walter?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. A young woman’s heart, sir,<br /> +Is not a stone to carve a posy on!<br /> +Which knows not what is writ on’t; which you may buy,<br /> +Exchange, or sell, sir, keep or give away, sir:<br /> +It is a richer—yet a poorer thing;<br /> +Priceless to him that owns and prizes it;<br /> +Worthless, when owned, not prized; which makes the man<br /> +That covets it, obtains it, and discards it—<br /> +A fool, if not a villain, sir.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Well, sir?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You never loved my ward, sir!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. The bright Heavens<br /> +Bear witness that I did!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The bright Heavens, sir,<br /> +Bear not false witness. That you loved her not<br /> +Is clear—for had you loved her, you’d have plucked<br /> +Your heart from out your breast, ere cast her from your heart!<br /> +Old as I am, I know what passion is.<br /> +It is the summer’s heat, sir, which in vain<br /> +We look for frost in. Ice, like you, sir, knows<br /> +But little of such heat! We are wronged, sir, wronged!<br /> +You wear a sword, and so do I.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Well, sir!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You know the use, sir, of a sword?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I do.<br /> +To whip a knave, sir, or an honest man!<br /> +A wise man or a fool—atone for wrong,<br /> +Or double the amount on’t! Master Walter,<br /> +Touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think<br /> +On my side lies the grievance. I would not say so<br /> +Did I not think so. As for love—look, sir,<br /> +That hand’s a widower’s, to its first mate sworn<br /> +To clasp no second one. As for amends, sir,<br /> +You’re free to get them from a man in whom<br /> +You’ve been forestalled by fortune, for the spite<br /> +Which she has vented on him, if you still<br /> +Esteem him worth your anger. Please you read<br /> +That letter. Now, sir, judge if life is dear<br /> +To one so much a loser.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What, all gone!<br /> +Thy cousin living they reported dead!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Title and land, sir, unto which add love!<br /> +All gone, save life and honour, which, ere I’ll lose,<br /> +I’ll let the other go.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. We’re public here,<br /> +And may be interrupted. Let us seek<br /> +Some spot of privacy. Your letter, sir.</p> +<p>[Gives it back.]</p> +<p>Though fortune slights you, I’ll not slight you; not<br /> +Your title or the lack of it I heed.<br /> +Whether upon the score of love or hate,<br /> +With you and you alone I settle, sir.<br /> +We’ve gone too far. ’Twere folly now to part<br /> +Without a reckoning.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Just as you please.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’ve done<br /> +A noble lady wrong.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. That lady, sir,<br /> +Has done me wrong.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Go to, thou art a boy<br /> +Fit to be trusted with a plaything, not<br /> +A woman’s heart. Thou knowest not what it is!<br /> +And that I’ll prove to thee, soon as we find<br /> +Convenient place. Come on, sir! you shall get<br /> +A lesson that shall serve you for the rest<br /> +Of your life. I’ll make you own her, sir, a piece<br /> +Of Nature’s handiwork, as costly, free<br /> +From bias, flaw, and fair, as ever yet<br /> +Her cunning hand turned out. Come on, sir! come!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h3>ACT III.</h3> +<h4>SCENE I.—A Drawing-room.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Lord Tinsel</span> and the <span +class="smcap">Earl of Rochdale</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Refuse a lord! A saucy lady this.<br /> +I scarce can credit it.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. She’ll change her mind.<br /> +My agent, Master Walter, is her guardian.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. How can you keep that Hunchback in his office?<br /> +He mocks you.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. He is useful. Never heed him.<br /> +My offer now do I present through him.<br /> +He has the title-deeds of my estates,<br /> +She’ll listen to their wooing. I must have her.<br /> +Not that I love her, but that all allow<br /> +She’s fairest of the fair.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Distinguished well!<br /> +’Twere most unseemly for a lord to love!—<br /> +Leave that to commoners! ’Tis vulgar—she’s<br /> +Betrothed, you tell me, to Sir Thomas Clifford?</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. That a commoner should thwart a lord!<br /> +Yet not a commoner. A baronet<br /> +Is fish and flesh. Nine parts plebeian, and<br /> +Patrician in the tenth. Sir Thomas Clifford!<br /> +A man, they say, of brains! I abhor brains<br /> +As I do tools: they’re things mechanical.<br /> +So far are we above our forefathers<br /> +They to their brains did owe their titles, as<br /> +Do lawyers, doctors. We to nothing owe them,<br /> +Which makes us far the nobler.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Is it so?</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Believe me. You shall profit by my training;<br +/> +You grow a lord apace. I saw you meet<br /> +A bevy of your former friends, who fain<br /> +Had shaken hands with you. You gave them fingers!<br /> +You’re now another man. Your house is changed—<br /> +Your table changed—your retinue—your horse—<br /> +Where once you rode a hack, you now back blood;—<br /> +Befits it, then, you also change your friends!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Williams</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. A gentleman would see your lordship.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Sir!<br /> +What’s that?</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. A gentleman would see his lordship.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. How know you, sir, his lordship is at home?<br /> +Is he at home because he goes not out?<br /> +He’s not at home, though there you see him, sir;<br /> +Unless he certify that he’s at home!<br /> +Bring up the name of the gentleman, and then<br /> +Your lord will know if he’s at home or not.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Williams</span> goes out.]</p> +<p>Your man was porter to some merchant’s door,<br /> +Who never taught him better breeding<br /> +Than to speak the vulgar truth! Well, sir?</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Williams</span> having re-entered.]</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. His name,<br /> +So please your lordship, Markham.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Do you know<br /> +The thing?</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Right well! I’faith a hearty fellow,<br +/> +Son to a worthy tradesman, who would do<br /> +Great things with little means; so entered him<br /> +In the Temple. A good fellow, on my life.<br /> +Nought smacking of his stock!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. You’ve said enough!<br /> +His lordship’s not at home.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Williams</span> goes out.]</p> +<p>We do not go<br /> +By hearts, but orders! Had he family—<br /> +Blood—though it only were a drop—his heart<br /> +Would pass for something; lacking such desert,<br /> +Were it ten times the heart it is, ’tis nought!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Williams</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. One Master Jones hath asked to see you lordship.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. And what was your reply to Master Jones?</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. I knew not if his lordship was at home.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. You’ll do. Who’s Master Jones?</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. A curate’s son.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. A curate’s! Better be a yeoman’s +son!<br /> +Was it the rector’s son, he might be known,<br /> +Because the rector is a rising man,<br /> +And may become a bishop. He goes light,<br /> +The curate ever hath a loaded back!<br /> +He may be called the yeoman of the church,<br /> +That sweating does his work, and drudges on,<br /> +While lives the hopeful rector at his ease.<br /> +How made you his acquaintance, pray?</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. We read<br /> +Latin and Greek together.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Dropping them—<br /> +As, now that you’re a lord, of course you’ve done—<br /> +Drop him—You’ll say his lordship’s not at home.</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. So please your lordship, I forgot to say,<br /> +One Richard Cricket likewise is below.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Who?—Richard Cricket! You must see him, +Rochdale!<br /> +A noble little fellow! A great man, sir!<br /> +Not knowing whom, you would be nobody!<br /> +I won five thousand pounds by him!</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Who is he?<br /> +I never heard of him.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. What! never heard<br /> +Of Richard Cricket!—never heard of him!<br /> +Why, he’s the jockey of Newmarket; you<br /> +May win a cup by him, or else a sweepstakes.<br /> +I bade him call upon you. You must see him.<br /> +His lordship is at home to Richard Cricket.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Bid him wait in the ante-room.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Williams</span> goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. The ante-room!<br /> +The best room in your house! You do not know<br /> +The use of Richard Cricket! Show him, sir,<br /> +Into the drawing-room. Your lordship needs<br /> +Must keep a racing stud, and you’ll do well<br /> +To make a friend of Richard Cricket. Well, sir:<br /> +What’s that?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Williams</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Will</i>. So please your lordship, a petition.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Hadst not a service ’mongst the Hottentots<br /> +Ere thou camest hither, friend? Present thy lord<br /> +With a petition! At mechanics’ doors,<br /> +At tradesmen’s, shopkeepers’, and merchants’ only,<br /> +Have such things leave to knock! Make thy lord’s gate<br /> +A wicket to a workhouse! Let us see it—<br /> +Subscriptions to a book of poetry!<br /> +Cornelius Tense, M.A.<br /> +Which means he construes Greek and Latin, works<br /> +Problems in mathematics, can chop logic,<br /> +And is a conjurer in philosophy,<br /> +Both natural and moral.—Pshaw! a man<br /> +Whom nobody, that is anybody, knows!<br /> +Who, think you, follows him? Why, an M.D.,<br /> +An F.R.S., an F.AS., and then<br /> +A D.D., Doctor of Divinity,<br /> +Ushering in an LL.D., which means<br /> +Doctor of Laws—their harmony, no doubt,<br /> +The difference of their trades! There’s nothing here<br /> +But languages, and sciences, and arts.<br /> +Not an iota of nobility!<br /> +We cannot give our names. Take back the paper,<br /> +And tell the bearer there’s no answer for him:—<br /> +That is the lordly way of saying “No.”<br /> +But, talking of subscriptions, here is one<br /> +To which your lordship may affix your name.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Pray, who’s the object?</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. A most worthy man!<br /> +A man of singular deserts; a man<br /> +In serving whom your lordship will serve me,—<br /> +Signor Cantata.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. He’s a friend of yours?</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Oh, no, I know him not! I’ve not that +pleasure.<br /> +But Lady Dangle knows him; she’s his friend,<br /> +He will oblige us with a set of concerts,<br /> +Six concerts to the set.—The set, three guineas.<br /> +Your lordship will subscribe?</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Oh, by all means.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. How many sets of tickets? Two at least.<br /> +You’ll like to take a friend? I’ll set you down<br /> +Six guineas to Signor Cantata’s concerts,<br /> +And now, my Lord, we’ll to him; then we’ll walk.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Nay, I would wait the lady’s answer.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Wait! take an excursion to the country; let<br /> +Her answer wait for you!</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Indeed!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Indeed!<br /> +Befits a lord nought like indifference.<br /> +Say an estate should fall to you, you’d take it<br /> +As it concerned more a stander by<br /> +Than you. As you’re a lord, be sure you ever<br /> +Of that make little other men make much of;<br /> +Nor do the thing they do, but the right contrary.<br /> +Where the distinction else ’twixt them and you?</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h4>SCENE II.—An Apartment in Master Heartwell’s House.</h4> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> discovered looking through +title-deeds and papers.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. So falls out everything, as I would have it,<br /> +Exact in place and time. This lord’s advances<br /> +Receives she,—as, I augur, in the spleen<br /> +Of wounded pride she will,—my course is clear.<br /> +She comes—all’s well—the tempest rages still.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Julia</span> enters, and paces the room in a state +of high excitement.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What have my eyes to do with water? Fire<br /> +Becomes them better!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. True!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Yet, must I weep<br /> +To be so monitored, and by a man!<br /> +A man that was my slave! whom I have seen<br /> +Kneel at my feet from morn till noon, content<br /> +With leave to only gaze upon my face,<br /> +And tell me what he read there,—till the page<br /> +I knew by heart, I ’gan to doubt I knew,<br /> +Emblazoned by the comment of his tongue!<br /> +And he to lesson me! Let him come here<br /> +On Monday week! He ne’er leads me to church!<br /> +I would not profit by his rank, or wealth,<br /> +Though kings might call him cousin, for their sake!<br /> +I’ll show him I have pride!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’re very right!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. He would have had to-day our wedding-day!<br /> +I fixed a month from this. He prayed and prayed;<br /> +I dropped a week. He prayed and prayed the more!<br /> +I dropped a second one. Still more he prayed!<br /> +And I took off another week,—and now<br /> +I have his leave to wed, or not to wed!<br /> +He’ll see that I have pride!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And so he ought.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. O! for some way to bring him to my foot!<br /> +But he should lie there! Why, ’twill go abroad<br /> +That he has cast me off. That there should live<br /> +The man could say so! Or that I should live<br /> +To be the leavings of a man!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thy case<br /> +I own a hard one!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Hard? ’Twill drive me mad!<br /> +His wealth and title! I refused a lord—<br /> +I did!—that privily implored my hand,<br /> +And never cared to tell him on’t! So much<br /> +I hate him now, that lord should not in vain<br /> +Implore my hand again!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’d give it him?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I would.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’d wed that lord?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. That lord I’d wed;—<br /> +Or any other lord,—only to show him<br /> +That I could wed above him!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Give me your hand<br /> +And word to that.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. There! Take my hand and word!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. That lord hath offered you his hand again.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. He has?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Your father knows it: he approves of him.<br /> +There are the title-deeds of the estates,<br /> +Sent for my jealous scrutiny. All sound,—<br /> +No flaw, or speck, that e’en the lynx-eyed law<br /> +Itself could find. A lord of many lands!<br /> +In Berkshire half a county; and the same<br /> +In Wiltshire, and in Lancashire! Across<br /> +The Irish Sea a principality!<br /> +And not a rood with bond or lien on it!<br /> +Wilt give that lord a wife? Wilt make thyself<br /> +A countess? Here’s the proffer of his hand.<br /> +Write thou content, and wear a coronet!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Eagerly.] Give me the paper.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. There! Here’s pen and ink.<br /> +Sit down. Why do you pause? A flourish of<br /> +The pen, and you’re a countess.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. My poor brain<br /> +Whirls round and round! I would not wed him now,<br /> +Were he more lowly at my feet to sue<br /> +Than e’er he did!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Wed whom?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Sir Thomas Clifford.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You’re right.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. His rank and wealth are roots to doubt;<br /> +And while they lasted, still the weed would grow,<br /> +Howe’er you plucked it. No! That’s +o’er—that’s done.<br /> +Was never lady wronged so foul as I! [Weeps.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thou’rt to be pitied.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Aroused.] Pitied! Not so bad<br /> +As that.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Indeed thou art, to love the man<br /> +That spurns thee!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Love him! Love! If hate could find<br /> +A word more harsh than its own name, I’d take it,<br /> +To speak the love I bear him! [Weeps.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Write thy own name,<br /> +And show him how near akin thy hate’s to hate.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Writes.] ’Tis done!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. ’Tis well! I’ll come to you +anon! [Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Alone.] I’m glad ’tis done! +I’m very glad ’tis done!<br /> +I’ve done the thing I ought. From my disgrace<br /> +This lord shall lift me ’bove the reach of scorn—<br /> +That idly wags its tongue, where wealth and state<br /> +Need only beckon to have crowds to laud!<br /> +Then how the tables change! The hand he spurned<br /> +His betters take! Let me remember that!<br /> +I’ll grace my rank! I will! I’ll carry it<br /> +As I was born to it! I warrant none<br /> +Shall say it fits me not:—but, one and all<br /> +Confess I wear it bravely, as I ought!<br /> +And he shall hear it! Ay, and he shall see it!<br /> +I will roll by him in an equipage<br /> +Would mortgage his estate—but he shall own<br /> +His slight of me was my advancement! Love me!<br /> +He never loved me! if he had, he ne’er<br /> +Had given me up! Love’s not a spider’s web<br /> +But fit to mesh a fly—that you can break<br /> +By only blowing on’t! He never loved me!<br /> +He knows not what love is!—or, if he does,<br /> +He has not been o’erchary of his peace!<br /> +And that he’ll find when I’m another’s wife,<br /> +Lost!—lost to him for ever! Tears again!<br /> +Why should I weep for him? Who make their woes.<br /> +Deserve them! What have I to do with tears?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Helen</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. News, Julia, news!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What! is’t about Sir Thomas?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Sir Thomas, say you? He’s no more Sir +Thomas!<br /> +That cousin lives, as heir to whom, his wealth<br /> +And title came to him.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Was he not dead?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. No more than I am dead.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I would ’twere not so.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What say you, Julia?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Nothing!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I could kiss<br /> +That cousin! couldn’t you, Julia?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Wherefore?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Why<br /> +For coming back to life again, as ’twere<br /> +Upon his cousin to revenge you.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Helen!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Indeed ’tis true. With what a sorry +grace<br /> +The gentleman will bear himself without<br /> +His title! Master Clifford! Have you not<br /> +Some token to return him? Some love-letter?<br /> +Some brooch? Some pin? Some anything? I’ll be<br /> +Your messenger, for nothing but the pleasure<br /> +Of calling him plain “Master Clifford.”</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Helen!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Or has he aught of thine? Write to him, +Julia,<br /> +Demanding it! Do, Julia, if you love me;<br /> +And I’ll direct it in a schoolboy’s hand,<br /> +As round as I can write, “To Master Clifford.”</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Helen!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’ll think of fifty thousand ways<br /> +To mortify him! I’ve a twentieth cousin,<br /> +A care-for-nought, at mischief. Him I’ll set,<br /> +With twenty other madcaps like himself,<br /> +To walk the streets the traitor most frequents<br /> +And give him salutation as he passes—<br /> +“How do you, Master Clifford?”</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Highly incensed.] Helen!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Bless me!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I hate you, Helen!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Modus</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Joy for you, fair lady!<br /> +Our baronet is now plain gentleman—<br /> +And hardly that, not master of the means<br /> +To bear himself as such. The kinsman lives<br /> +Whose only rumoured death gave wealth to him,<br /> +And title. A hard creditor he proves,<br /> +Who keeps strict reckoning—will have interest.<br /> +As well as principal. A ruined man<br /> +Is now Sir Thomas Clifford!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’m glad on’t.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. And so am I,<br /> +A scurvy trick it was<br /> +He served you, madam. Use a lady so!<br /> +I merely bore with him. I never liked him.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. No more did I. No, never could I think<br /> +He looked his title.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. No, nor acted it.<br /> +If rightly they report, he ne’er disbursed<br /> +To entertain his friends, ’tis broadly said,<br /> +A hundred pounds in the year! He was most poor<br /> +In the appointments of a man of rank,<br /> +Possessing wealth like his. His horses, hacks!<br /> +His gentleman, a footman! and his footman,<br /> +A groom! The sports that men of quality<br /> +And spirit countenance, he kept aloof from,<br /> +From scruple of economy, not taste,—<br /> +As racing and the like. In brief, he lacked<br /> +Those shining points that, more than name, denote<br /> +High breeding; and, moreover, was a man<br /> +Of very shallow learning.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Silence, sir!<br /> +For shame!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Why, Julia!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Speak not to me! Poor!<br /> +Most poor! I tell you, sir, he was the making<br /> +Of fifty gentlemen—each one of whom<br /> +Were more than peer for thee! His title, sir,<br /> +Lent him no grace he did not pay it back!<br /> +Though it had been the highest of the high,<br /> +He would have looked it, felt it, acted it,<br /> +As thou couldst ne’er have done! When found you out<br /> +You liked him not? It was not ere to-day!<br /> +Or that base spirit I must reckon yours<br /> +Which smiles where it would scowl—can stoop to hate<br /> +And fear to show it! He was your better, sir,<br /> +And is!—Ay, is! though stripped of rank and wealth,<br /> +His nature’s ’bove or fortune’s love or spite,<br /> +To blazon or to blurr it! [Retires.]</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. [To <span class="smcap">Helen</span>.] I was +told<br /> +Much to disparage him—I know not wherefore.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And so was I, and know as much the cause.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span>, with parchments.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Joy, my Julia!<br /> +Impatient love has foresight! Lo you here<br /> +The marriage deeds filled up, except a blank<br /> +To write your jointure. What you will, my girl!<br /> +Is this a lover? Look! Three thousand pounds<br /> +Per annum for your private charges! Ha!<br /> +There’s pin-money! Is this a lover? Mark<br /> +What acres, forests, tenements, are taxed<br /> +For your revenue; and so set apart,<br /> +That finger cannot touch them, save thine own.<br /> +Is this a lover? What good fortune’s thine!<br /> +Thou dost not speak; but, ’tis the way with joy!<br /> +With richest heart, it has the poorest tongue!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. What great good fortune’s this you speak of, +sir?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. A coronet, Master Modus! You behold<br /> +The wife elect, sir, of no less a man<br /> +Than the new Earl of Rochdale—heir of him<br /> +That’s recently deceased.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. My dearest Julia,<br /> +Much joy to you!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. All good attend you, madam!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. This letter brings excuses from his lordship,<br /> +Whose absence it accounts for. He repairs<br /> +To his estate in Lancashire, and thither<br /> +We follow.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. When, sir?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Now. This very hour.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. This very hour! O cruel, fatal haste!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. “O cruel, fatal haste!” What meanest +thou?<br /> +Have I done wrong to do thy bidding, then?<br /> +I have done no more. Thou wast an offcast bride,<br /> +And wouldst be an affianced one—thou art so!<br /> +Thou’dst have the slight that marked thee out for scorn,<br /> +Converted to a means of gracing thee—<br /> +It is so! If our wishes come too soon,<br /> +What can make sure of welcome? In my zeal<br /> +To win thee thine, thou know’st, at any time<br /> +I’d play the steed, whose will to serve his lord,<br /> +With his last breath gives his last bound for him!<br /> +Since only noon have I despatched what well<br /> +Had kept a brace of clerks, and more, on foot—<br /> +And then, perhaps, had been to do again!—<br /> +Not finished sure, complete—the compact firm,<br /> +As fate itself had sealed it!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Give you thanks!<br /> +Though ’twere my death! my death!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thy death! indeed,<br /> +For happiness like this, one well might die!<br /> +Take thy lord’s letter! Well?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>, with a letter.]</p> +<p><i>Thos</i>. This letter, sir,<br /> +The gentleman that served Sir Thomas Clifford—<br /> +Or him that was Sir Thomas—gave to me<br /> +For Mistress Julia.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Give it me!</p> +<p>[Throwing away the one she holds.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Snatching it.] For what?<br /> +Wouldst read it? He’s a bankrupt! stripped of title,<br /> +House, chattels, lands, and all! A naked bankrupt,<br /> +With neither purse, nor trust! Wouldst read his letter?<br /> +A beggar! Yea, a very beggar!—fasts, unless<br /> +He dines on alms! How durst he send thee a letter!<br /> +A fellow cut on this hand, and on that;<br /> +Bows and is cut again, and bows again!<br /> +Who pays you fifty smiles for half a one,—<br /> +And that given grudgingly! To you a letter!<br /> +I burst with choler! Thus I treat his letter!</p> +<p>[Tears and throws it on the ground.]</p> +<p>So! I was wrong to let him ruffle me;<br /> +He is not worth the spending anger on!<br /> +I prithee, Master Modus, use despatch,<br /> +And presently make ready for our ride.<br /> +You, Helen, to my Julia look—a change<br /> +Of dresses will suffice. She must have new ones,<br /> +Matches for her new state! Haste, friends. My Julia!<br /> +Why stand you poring there upon the ground?<br /> +Time flies. Your rise astounds you? Never heed—<br /> +You’ll play my lady countess like a queen!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h3>ACT IV.</h3> +<h4>SCENE I.—A Room in the Earl of Rochdale’s</h4> +<p>[Eater <span class="smcap">Helen</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’m weary wandering from room to room;<br /> +A castle after all is but a house—<br /> +The dullest one when lacking company.<br /> +Were I at home, I could be company<br /> +Unto myself. I see not Master Walter,<br /> +He’s ever with his ward. I see not her.<br /> +By Master Walter’s will she bides alone.<br /> +My father stops in town. I can’t see him.<br /> +My cousin makes his books his company.<br /> +I’ll go to bed and sleep. No—I’ll stay up<br /> +And plague my cousin into making love!<br /> +For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect.<br /> +How dull he is that hath not sense to see<br /> +What lies before him, and he’d like to find!<br /> +I’ll change my treatment of him. Cross him, where<br /> +Before I used to humour him. He comes,<br /> +Poring upon a book. What’s that you read?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Modus</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Latin, sweet cousin.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. ’Tis a naughty tongue,<br /> +I fear, and teaches men to lie.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. To lie!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You study it. You call your cousin sweet,<br +/> +And treat her as you would a crab. As sour<br /> +’Twould seem you think her, as you covet her!<br /> +Why how the monster stares, and looks about!<br /> +You construe Latin, and can’t construe that!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I never studied women.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. No; nor men.<br /> +Else would you better know their ways: nor read<br /> +In presence of a lady. [Strikes the book from his hand.]</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Right you say,<br /> +And well you served me, cousin, so to strike<br /> +The volume from my hand. I own my fault;<br /> +So please you—may I pick it up again?<br /> +I’ll put it in my pocket!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Pick it up.<br /> +He fears me as I were his grandmother!<br /> +What is the book?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. ’Tis Ovid’s Art of Love.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. That Ovid was a fool!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. In what?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. In that:<br /> +To call that thing an art, which art is none.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. And is not love an art?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Are you a fool,<br /> +As well as Ovid? Love an art! No art<br /> +But taketh time and pains to learn. Love comes<br /> +With neither! Is’t to hoard such grain as that,<br /> +You went to college? Better stay at home,<br /> +And study homely English.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Nay, you know not<br /> +The argument.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I don’t? I know it better<br /> +Than ever Ovid did! The face—the form—<br /> +The heart—the mind we fancy, cousin; that’s<br /> +The argument! Why, cousin, you know nothing.<br /> +Suppose a lady were in love with thee:<br /> +Couldst thou by Ovid, cousin, find it out?<br /> +Couldst find it out, wast thou in love thyself?<br /> +Could Ovid, cousin, teach thee to make love?<br /> +I could, that never read him! You begin<br /> +With melancholy; then to sadness; then<br /> +To sickness; then to dying—but not die!<br /> +She would not let thee, were she of my mind!<br /> +She’d take compassion on thee. Then for hope;<br /> +From hope to confidence; from confidence<br /> +To boldness;—then you’d speak; at first entreat;<br /> +Then urge; then flout; then argue; then enforce;<br /> +Make prisoner of her hand; besiege her waist;<br /> +Threaten her lips with storming; keep thy word<br /> +And carry her! My sampler ’gainst thy Ovid!<br /> +Why cousin, are you frightened, that you stand<br /> +As you were stricken dumb? The case is clear,<br /> +You are no soldier. You’ll ne’er win a battle.<br /> +You care too much for blows!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. You wrong me there,<br /> +At school I was the champion of my form;<br /> +And since I went to college—</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. That for college!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Nay, hear me!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Well? What, since you went to college?<br /> +You know what men are set down for, who boast<br /> +Of their own bravery! Go on, brave cousin:<br /> +What, since you went to college? Was there not<br /> +One Quentin Halworth there? You know there was,<br /> +And that he was your master!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. He my master!<br /> +Thrice was he worsted by me.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Still was he<br /> +Your master.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. He allowed I had the best!<br /> +Allowed it, mark me! nor to me alone,<br /> +But twenty I could name.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And mastered you<br /> +At last! Confess it, cousin, ’tis the truth!<br /> +A proctor’s daughter you did both affect—<br /> +Look at me and deny it! Of the twain<br /> +She more affected you;—I’ve caught you now,<br /> +Bold cousin! Mark you? opportunity<br /> +On opportunity she gave you, sir—<br /> +Deny it if you can!—but though to others,<br /> +When you discoursed of her, you were a flame;<br /> +To her you were a wick that would not light,<br /> +Though held in the very fire! And so he won her—<br /> +Won her, because he wooed her like a man.<br /> +For all your cuffings, cuffing you again<br /> +With most usurious interest. Now, sir,<br /> +Protest that you are valiant!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Cousin Helen!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Well, sir?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. The tale is all a forgery!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. A forgery!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. From first to last; ne’er spoke I<br /> +To a proctor’s daughter while I was at college.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. ’Twas a scrivener’s then—or +somebody’s.<br /> +But what concerns it whose?<br /> +Enough, you loved her!<br /> +And, shame upon you, let another take her!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Cousin, I’ll tell you, if you’ll only hear +me,<br /> +I loved no woman while I was at college—<br /> +Save one, and her I fancied ere I went there.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Indeed! Now I’ll retreat, if he’s +advancing.<br /> +Comes he not on! O what a stock’s the man!<br /> +Well, cousin?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Well! What more wouldst have me say?<br /> +I think I’ve said enough.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And so think I.<br /> +I did but jest with you. You are not angry?<br /> +Shake hands! Why, cousin, do you squeeze me so?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. [Letting her go.] I swear I squeezed you +not.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You did not?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. No. I’ll die if I did!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Why then you did not, cousin,<br /> +So let’s shake hands again—<br /> +[He takes her hand as before.] O go and now<br /> +Read Ovid! Cousin, will you tell me one thing:<br /> +Wore lovers ruffs in Master Ovid’s time?<br /> +Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on;—<br /> +And that you have to learn. Hold up your head!<br /> +Why, cousin, how you blush! Plague on the ruff!<br /> +I cannot give’t a set. You’re blushing still!<br /> +Why do you blush, dear cousin? So!—’twill beat me!<br /> +I’ll give it up.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Nay, prithee, don’t—try on!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And if I do, I fear you’ll think me bold.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. For what?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. To trust my face so near to thine.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I know not what you mean.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’m glad you don’t!<br /> +Cousin, I own right well behaved you are,<br /> +Most marvellously well behaved! They’ve bred<br /> +You well at college. With another man<br /> +My lips would be in danger! Hang the ruff!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Nay, give it up, nor plague thyself, dear cousin.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Dear fool! [Throws the ruff on the ground.]<br +/> +I swear the ruff is good for just<br /> +As little as its master! There!—’Tis spoiled—<br /> +You’ll have to get another! Hie for it,<br /> +And wear it in the fashion of a wisp,<br /> +Ere I adjust it for thee! Farewell, cousin!<br /> +You’d need to study Ovid’s Art of Love.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Helen</span> goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. [Solus.] Went she in anger! I will follow +her,—<br /> +No, I will not! Heigho! I love my cousin!<br /> +O would that she loved me! Why did she taunt me<br /> +With backwardness in love? What could she mean?<br /> +Sees she I love her, and so laughs at me,<br /> +Because I lack the front to woo her? Nay,<br /> +I’ll woo her then! Her lips shall be in danger,<br /> +When next she trusts them near me! Looked she at me<br /> +To-day as never did she look before!<br /> +A bold heart, Master Modus! ’Tis a saying<br /> +A faint one never won fair lady yet!<br /> +I’ll woo my cousin, come what will on’t. Yes:</p> +<p>[Begins reading again, throws down the book.]</p> +<p>Hang Ovid’s Art of Love! I’ll woo my cousin!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<h4>SCENE II.—The Banqueting-room in the Earl of Rochdale’s +Mansion.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> and <span +class="smcap">Julia</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. This is the banqueting-room. Thou seest as +far<br /> +It leaves the last behind, as that excels<br /> +The former ones. All is proportion here<br /> +And harmony! Observe! The massy pillars<br /> +May well look proud to bear the gilded dome.<br /> +You mark those full-length portraits? They’re the heads,<br /> +The stately heads, of his ancestral line.<br /> +Here o’er the feast they haply still preside!<br /> +Mark those medallions! Stand they forth or not<br /> +In bold and fair relief? Is not this brave?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Abstractedly.] It is.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. It should be so. To cheer the blood<br /> +That flows in noble veins is made the feast<br /> +That gladdens here! You see this drapery?<br /> +’Tis richest velvet! Fringe and tassels, gold!<br /> +Is not this costly?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And chaste, the while?<br /> +Both chaste and costly?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Come hither! There’s a mirror for +you. See!<br /> +One sheet from floor to ceiling! Look into it,<br /> +Salute its mistress! Dost not know her?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Sighing deeply.] Yes.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And sighest thou to know her? Wait until<br /> +To-morrow, when the banquet shall be spread<br /> +In the fair hall; the guests—already bid,<br /> +Around it; here, her lord; and there, herself;<br /> +Presiding o’er the cheer that hails him bridegroom,<br /> +And her the happy bride! Dost hear me?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Sighing still more deeply.] Yes.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. These are the day-rooms only, we have seen.<br /> +For public and domestic uses kept.<br /> +I’ll show you now the lodging-rooms.</p> +<p>[Goes, then turns and observes <span class="smcap">Julia</span> standing +perfectly abstracted.]</p> +<p>You’re tired.<br /> +Let it be till after dinner, then. Yet one<br /> +I’d like thee much to see—the bridal chamber.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Julia</span> starts, crosses her hands upon her +breast, and looks upwards.]</p> +<p>I see you’re tired: yet it is worth the viewing,<br /> +If only for the tapestry which shows<br /> +The needle like the pencil glows with life;</p> +<p>[Brings down chairs—they sit.]</p> +<p>The story’s of a page who loved the dame<br /> +He served—a princess!—Love’s a heedless thing!<br /> +That never takes account of obstacles;<br /> +Makes plains of mountains, rivulets of seas,<br /> +That part it from its wish. So proved the page,<br /> +Who from a state so lowly, looked so high,—<br /> +But love’s a greater lackwit still than this.<br /> +Say it aspires—that’s gain! Love +stoops—that’s loss!<br /> +You know what comes. The princess loved the page.<br /> +Shall I go on, or here leave off?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Go on.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Each side of the chamber shows a different stage<br /> +Of this fond page, and fonder lady’s love. <a name="citation2"></a><a +href="#footnote2" class="citation">[2]</a><br /> +First—no, it is not that.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Oh, recollect!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And yet it is.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. No doubt it is. What is ’t?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. He holds to her a salver, with a cup;<br /> +His cheeks more mantling with his passion than<br /> +The cup with the ruby wine. She heeds him not,<br /> +For too great heed of him:—but seems to hold<br /> +Debate betwixt her passion and her pride—<br /> +That’s like to lose the day. You read it in<br /> +Her vacant eye, knit brow, and parted lips,<br /> +Which speak a heart too busy all within<br /> +To note what’s done without. Like you the tale?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I list to every word.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The next side paints<br /> +The page upon his knee. He has told his tale;<br /> +And found that when he lost his heart, he played<br /> +No losing game: but won a richer one!<br /> +There may you read in him, how love would seem<br /> +Most humble when most bold,—you question which<br /> +Appears to kiss her hand—his breath, or lips!<br /> +In her you read how wholly lost is she<br /> +Who trusts her heart to love. Shall I give o’er?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Nay, tell it to the end. Is’t +melancholy?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. To answer that, would mar the story.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Right.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The third side now we come to.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What shows that?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The page and princess still. But stands her +sire<br /> +Between them. Stern he grasps his daughter’s arm,<br /> +Whose eyes like fountains play; while through her tears<br /> +Her passion shines, as through the fountain drops<br /> +The sun! His minions crowd around the page!<br /> +They drag him to a dungeon.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Hapless youth!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Hapless indeed, that’s twice a captive! heart<br +/> +And body both in bonds. But that’s the chain,<br /> +Which balance cannot weigh, rule measure, touch<br /> +Define the texture of, or eye detect,<br /> +That’s forgèd by the subtle craft of love!<br /> +No need to tell you that he wears it. Such<br /> +The cunning of the hand that plied the loom,<br /> +You’ve but to mark the straining of his eye,<br /> +To feel the coil yourself!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I feel’t without!<br /> +You’ve finished with the third side; now the fourth!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. It brings us to a dungeon, then.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. The page,<br /> +The thrall of love, more than the dungeon’s thrall,<br /> +Is there?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. He is. He lies in fetters.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Hard!<br /> +Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Some one unrivets them!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. The princess? ’Tis!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. It is another page.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. It is herself!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Her skin is fair; and his is berry-brown.<br /> +His locks are raven black; and hers are gold.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Love’s cunning of disguises! spite of +locks,<br /> +Skin, vesture,—it is she, and only she<br /> +What will not constant woman do for love<br /> +That’s loved with constancy! Set her the task,<br /> +Virtue approving, that will baffle her!<br /> +O’ertax her stooping, patience, courage, wit!<br /> +My life upon it, ’tis the princess’ self,<br /> +Transformed into a page!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The dungeon door<br /> +Stands open, and you see beyond—</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Her father!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. No; a steed.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Starting up.] O, welcome steed,<br /> +My heart bounds at the thought of thee! Thou comest<br /> +To bear the page from bonds to liberty.<br /> +What else?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Rising.] The story’s told.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Too briefly told;<br /> +O happy princess, that had wealth and state<br /> +To lay them down for love! Whose constant love<br /> +Appearances approved, not falsified!<br /> +A winner in thy loss, as well as gain.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Weighs love so much?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What would you weigh ’gainst love<br /> +That’s true? Tell me with what you’d turn the scale?<br +/> +Yea, make the index waver? Wealth? A feather!<br /> +Rank? Tinsel against bullion in the balance!<br /> +The love of kindred? That to set ’gainst love!<br /> +Friendship comes nearest to’t; but put it in,<br /> +Friendship will kick the beam!—weigh nothing ’gainst it!<br /> +Weigh love against the world!<br /> +Yet are they happy that have naught to say to it.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And such a one art thou. Who wisely wed,<br /> +Wed happily. The love thou speak’st of,<br /> +A flower is only, that its season has,<br /> +Which they must look to see the withering of,<br /> +Who pleasure in its budding and its bloom!<br /> +But wisdom is the constant evergreen<br /> +Which lives the whole year through! Be that, your flower!</p> +<p>[Enter a Servant.]</p> +<p>Well?</p> +<p><i>Serv</i>. My lord’s secretary is without.<br /> +He brings a letter for her ladyship,<br /> +And craves admittance to her.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Show him in.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. No.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thou must see him. To show slight to him,<br /> +Were slighting him that sent him. Show him in!</p> +<p>[Servant goes out.]</p> +<p>Some errand proper for thy private ear,<br /> +Besides the letter he may bring. What mean<br /> +This paleness and this trembling? Mark me, Julia!<br /> +If, from these nuptials, which thyself invited—<br /> +Which at thy seeking came—thou wouldst be freed,<br /> +Thou hast gone too far! Receding were disgrace,<br /> +Sooner than see thee suffer which, the hearts<br /> +That love thee most would wish thee dead! Reflect!<br /> +Take thought! collect thyself! With dignity<br /> +Receive thy bridegroom’s messenger! for sure<br /> +As dawns to-morrow’s sun, to-morrow night<br /> +Sees thee a wedded bride!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Alone.] A wedded bride!<br /> +Is it a dream? Is it a phantasm? ’Tis<br /> +Too horrible for reality! for aught else<br /> +Too palpable! O would it were a dream!<br /> +How would I bless the sun that waked me from it!<br /> +I perish! Like some desperate mariner<br /> +Impatient of a strange and hostile land,<br /> +Who rashly hoists his sail and puts to sea,<br /> +And being fast on reefs and quicksands borne,<br /> +Essays in vain once more to make the land,<br /> +Whence wind and current drive him; I’m wrecked<br /> +By mine own act! What! no escape? no hope?<br /> +None! I must e’en abide these hated nuptials!<br /> +Hated!—Ah! own it, and then curse thyself!<br /> +That madest the bane thou loathest—for the love<br /> +Thou bear’st to one who never can be thine!<br /> +Yes—love! Deceive thyself no longer. False<br /> +To say ’tis pity for his fall—respect,<br /> +Engendered by a hollow world’s disdain,<br /> +Which hoots whom fickle fortune cheers no more!<br /> +’Tis none of these; ’tis love—and if not love,<br /> +Why then idolatry! Ay, that’s the name<br /> +To speak the broadest, deepest, strongest passion,<br /> +That ever woman’s heart was borne away by!<br /> +He comes! Thou’dst play the lady,—play it now!</p> +<p>[Enter a Servant, conducting <span class="smcap">Clifford</span>, +plainly attired as the <span class="smcap">Earl of Rochdale’s</span> +Secretary.]</p> +<p>Servant. His lordship’s secretary.</p> +<p>[Servant goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Speaks he not? Or does he wait for orders to +unfold<br /> +His business? Stopped his business till I spoke,<br /> +I’d hold my peace for ever!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Clifford</span> kneels; presenting a letter.]</p> +<p>Does he kneel?<br /> +A lady am I to my heart’s content!<br /> +Could he unmake me that which claims his knee,<br /> +I’d kneel to him—I would! I would!—Your will?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. This letter from my lord.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. O fate! Who speaks?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. The secretary of my lord.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I breathe!<br /> +I could have sworn ’twas he!</p> +<p>[Makes an effort to look at him, but is unable.]</p> +<p>So like the voice—<br /> +I dare not look, lest there the form should stand!<br /> +How came he by that voice? ’Tis Clifford’s voice,<br /> +If ever Clifford spoke! My fears come back—<br /> +Clifford the secretary of my lord!<br /> +Fortune hath freaks, but none so mad as that!<br /> +It cannot be!—It should not be!—A look,<br /> +And all were set at rest.</p> +<p>[Tries to look at him again, but cannot.]</p> +<p>So strong my fears,<br /> +Dread to confirm them takes away the power<br /> +To try and end them! Come the worst, I’ll look.</p> +<p>[She tries again; and again is unequal to the task.]</p> +<p>I’d sink before him if I met his eye!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Will’t please your ladyship to take the +letter?<br /> +Julia. There Clifford speaks again! Not Clifford’s +heart<br /> +Could more make Clifford’s voice! Not Clifford’s +tongue<br /> +And lips more frame it into Clifford’s speech!<br /> +A question, and ’tis over! Know I you?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Reverse of fortune, lady, changes friends;<br /> +It turns them into strangers. What I am<br /> +I have not always been!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Could I not name you?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. If your disdain for one, perhaps too bold<br /> +When hollow fortune called him favourite,—<br /> +Now by her fickleness perforce reduced<br /> +To take an humble tone, would suffer you—</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I might?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. You might!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Oh, Clifford! is it you?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Your answer to my lord.</p> +<p>[Gives the letter.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Your lord!</p> +<p>[Mechanically taking it.]</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Wilt write it?<br /> +Or, will it please you send a verbal one?<br /> +I’ll bear it faithfully.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You’ll bear it?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Madam,<br /> +Your pardon, but my haste is somewhat urgent.<br /> +My lord’s impatient, and to use despatch<br /> +Were his repeated orders.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Orders? Well,<br /> +I’ll read the letter, sir. ’Tis right you mind<br /> +His lordship’s orders. They are paramount!<br /> +Nothing should supersede them!—stand beside them!<br /> +They merit all your care, and have it! Fit,<br /> +Most fit, they should! Give me the letter, sir.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. You have it, madam.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. So! How poor a thing<br /> +I look! so lost, while he is all himself!<br /> +Have I no pride?</p> +<p>[She rings, the Servant enters.]</p> +<p>Paper, and pen, and ink!<br /> +If he can freeze, ’tis time that I grow cold!<br /> +I’ll read the letter.</p> +<p>[Opens it, and holds it as about to read it.]</p> +<p>Mind his orders! So!<br /> +Quickly he fits his habits to his fortunes!<br /> +He serves my lord with all his will! His heart’s<br /> +In his vocation. So! Is this the letter?<br /> +’Tis upside down—and here I’m poring on’t!<br /> +Most fit I let him see me play the fool!<br /> +Shame! Let me be myself!</p> +<p>[A Servant enters with materials for writing.]</p> +<p>A table, sir,<br /> +And chair.</p> +<p>[The Servant brings a table and chair, and goes out. She sits a +while, vacantly gazing on the letter—then looks at <span +class="smcap">Clifford</span>.]</p> +<p>How plainly shows his humble suit!<br /> +It fits not him that wears it! I have wronged him!<br /> +He can’t be happy—does not look it!—is not.<br /> +That eye which reads the ground is argument<br /> +Enough! He loves me. There I let him stand,<br /> +And I am sitting!</p> +<p>[Rises, takes a chair, and approaches <span +class="smcap">Clifford</span>.]</p> +<p>Pray you take a chair.</p> +<p>[He bows, as acknowledging and declining the honour. She looks at +him a while.]</p> +<p>Clifford, why don’t you speak to me?</p> +<p>[She weeps.]</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I trust<br /> +You’re happy.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Happy! Very, very happy!<br /> +You see I weep, I am so happy! Tears<br /> +Are signs, you know, of naught but happiness!<br /> +When first I saw you, little did I look<br /> +To be so happy!—Clifford!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Madam?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Madam!<br /> +I call thee Clifford, and thou call’st me madam!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Such the address my duty stints me to.<br /> +Thou art the wife elect of a proud Earl,<br /> +Whose humble secretary, sole, am I.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Most right! I had forgot! I thank you, +sir,<br /> +For so reminding me; and give you joy,<br /> +That what, I see, had been a burthen to you,<br /> +Is fairly off your hands.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. A burthen to me!<br /> +Mean you yourself? Are you that burthen, Julia?<br /> +Say that the sun’s a burthen to the earth!<br /> +Say that the blood’s a burthen to the heart!<br /> +Say health’s a burthen, peace, contentment, joy,<br /> +Fame, riches, honours! everything that man<br /> +Desires, and gives the name of blessing to<br /> +E’en such a burthen, Julia were to me,<br /> +Had fortune let me wear her.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Aside.] On the brink<br /> +Of what a precipice I’m standing! Back,<br /> +Back! while the faculty remains to do’t!<br /> +A minute longer, not the whirlpool’s self<br /> +More sure to suck me down! One effort! There!</p> +<p>[She returns to her seat, recovers her self-possession, takes up the +letter, and reads.]</p> +<p>To wed to-morrow night! Wed whom? A man<br /> +Whom I can never love! I should before<br /> +Have thought of that. To-morrow night! This hour<br /> +To-morrow! How I tremble! Happy bands<br /> +To which my heart such freezing welcome gives,<br /> +As sends an ague through me! At what means<br /> +Will not the desperate snatch! What’s honour’s price?<br +/> +Nor friends, nor lovers,—no, nor life itself!<br /> +Clifford! This moment leave me!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Clifford</span> retires up the stage out of <span +class="smcap">Julia’s</span> sight.]</p> +<p>Is he gone?<br /> +O docile lover! Do his mistress’ wish<br /> +That went against his own! Do it so soon<br /> +Ere well ’twas uttered! No good-bye to her!<br /> +No word! no look! ’Twas best that he so went!<br /> +Alas, the strait of her, who owns that best,<br /> +Which last she’d wish were done? What’s left me now?<br +/> +To weep! To weep!</p> +<p>[Leans her head upon her arm, which rests upon the desk,—her other +arm hanging listlessly at her side. <span +class="smcap">Clifford</span> comes down the stage, looks a moment at her, +approaches her, and kneeling, takes her hand.]</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. My Julia!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Here again!<br /> +Up! up! By all thy hopes of Heaven, go hence!<br /> +To stay’s perdition to me! Look you, Clifford!<br /> +Were there a grave where thou art kneeling now,<br /> +I’d walk into ’t, and be inearthed alive,<br /> +Ere taint should touch my name! Should some one come<br /> +And see thee kneeling thus! Let go my hand!<br /> +Remember, Clifford, I’m a promised bride—<br /> +And take thy arm away! It has no right<br /> +To clasp my waist! Judge you so poorly of me,<br /> +As think I’ll suffer this? My honour, sir!</p> +<p>[She breaks from him, quitting her seat.]</p> +<p>I’m glad you’ve forced me to respect myself—<br /> +You’ll find that I can do so!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I was bold—<br /> +Forgetful of your station and my own;<br /> +There was a time I held your hand unchid!<br /> +There was a time I might have clasped your waist—<br /> +I had forgot that time was past and gone!<br /> +I pray you, pardon me!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Softened.] I do so, Clifford.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I shall no more offend.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Make sure of that.<br /> +No longer is it fit thou keep’st thy post<br /> +In’s lordship’s household. Give it up! A +day—<br /> +An hour remain not in it!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Wherefore?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Live<br /> +In the same house with me, and I another’s?<br /> +Put miles, put leagues between us! The same land<br /> +Should not contain us. Oceans should divide us—<br /> +With barriers of constant tempests—such<br /> +As mariners durst not tempt! O Clifford!<br /> +Rash was the act so light that gave me up,<br /> +That stung a woman’s pride, and drove her mad—<br /> +Till in her frenzy she destroyed her peace!<br /> +Oh, it was rashly done! Had you reproved—<br /> +Expostulated,—had you reasoned with me—<br /> +Tried to find out what was indeed my heart,—<br /> +I would have shown it—you’d have seen it. All<br /> +Had been as naught can ever be again!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Lovest thou me, Julia?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Dost thou ask me, Clifford?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. These nuptials may be shunned!—</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. With honour?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Yes!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Then take me!—Stop—hear me, and take me +then!<br /> +Let not thy passion be my counsellor!<br /> +Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother. Be<br /> +The jealous guardian of my spotless name!<br /> +Scan thou my cause as ’twere thy sister’s. Let<br /> +Thy scrutiny o’erlook no point of it,—<br /> +Nor turn it over once, but many a time:—<br /> +That flaw, speck—yea,—the shade of one,—a soil<br /> +So slight, not one out of a thousand eyes<br /> +Could find it out, may not escape thee; then<br /> +Say if these nuptials can be shunned with honour!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. They can.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Then take me, Clifford! [They embrace.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Entering.] Ha! What’s this?<br /> +Ha! treason! What! my baronet that was,<br /> +My secretary now? Your servant, sir!<br /> +Is’t thus you do the pleasure of your lord,—<br /> +That for your service feeds you, clothes you, pays you!<br /> +Or takest thou but the name of his dependent?<br /> +What’s here?—a letter. Fifty crowns to one<br /> +A forgery! I’m wrong. It is his hand.<br /> +This proves thee double traitor!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Traitor!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Nay,<br /> +Control thy wrath, good Master Walter! Do—<br /> +And I’ll persuade him to go hence—</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> retires up the stage.] I +see<br /> +For me thou bearest this, and thank thee, Clifford!<br /> +As thou hast truly shown thy heart to me,<br /> +So truly I to thee have opened mine!<br /> +Time flies! To-morrow! If thy love can find<br /> +A way, such as thou saidst, for my enlargement<br /> +By any means thou canst, apprise me of it;<br /> +And, soon as shown, I’ll take it.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Is he gone?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. He is this moment. If thou covetest me,<br /> +Win me, and wear me! May I trust thee? Oh!<br /> +If that’s thy soul, that’s looking through thine eyes,<br /> +Thou lovest me, and I may!—I sicken, lest<br /> +I never see thee more!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. As life is mine,<br /> +The ring that on thy wedding-finger goes<br /> +No hand but mine shall place there!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Lingers he?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. For my sake, now away! And yet a word.<br /> +By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me!<br /> +Go now!—yet stay! Clifford, while you are here,<br /> +I’m like a bark distressed and compassless,<br /> +That by a beacon steers; when you’re away,<br /> +That bark alone and tossing miles at sea!<br /> +Now go! Farewell! My compass—beacon—land!<br /> +When shall my eyes be blessed with thee again!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Farewell! [Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Art gone? All’s chance—all’s +care—all’s darkness.</p> +<p>[Is led off by <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span>.]</p> +<h3>ACT V.</h3> +<h4>SCENE I.—An Apartment in the Earl of Rochdale’s.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Helen</span> and <span +class="smcap">Fathom</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. The long and short of it is this—if she marries +this lord, she’ll break her heart! I wish you could see her, +madam. Poor lady!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. How looks she, prithee?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Marry, for all the world like a dripping-wet cambric +handkerchief! She has no colour nor strength in her; and does nothing +but weep—poor lady!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Tell me again what said she to thee?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. She offered me all she was mistress of to take the +letter to Master Clifford. She drew her purse from her +pocket—the ring from her finger—she took her very earrings out +of her ears—but I was forbidden, and refused. And now I’m +sorry for it! Poor lady!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Thou shouldst be sorry. Thou hast a hard +heart, Fathom.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I, madam! My heart is as soft as a +woman’s. You should have seen me when I came out of her +chamber—poor lady!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Did you cry?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. No; but I was as near it as possible. I a hard +heart! I would do anything to serve her, poor sweet lady!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Will you take her letter, asks she you again?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. No—I am forbid.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Will you help Master Clifford to an interview with +her?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. No—Master Walter would find it out.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Will you contrive to get me into her chamber?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. No—you would be sure to bring me into +mischief.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Go to! You would do nothing to serve +her. You a soft heart! You have no heart at all! You feel +not for her!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. But I tell you I do—and good right I have to +feel for her. I have been in love myself.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. With your dinner!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I would it had been! My pain would soon have +been over, and at little cost. A fortune I squandered upon +her!—trinkets—trimmings—treatings—what swallowed up +the revenue of a whole year! Wasn’t I in love? Six months +I courted her, and a dozen crowns all but one did I disburse for her in +that time! Wasn’t I in love? An hostler—a +tapster—and a constable, courted her at the same time, and I offered +to cudgel the whole three of them for her! Wasn’t I in +love?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You are a valiant man, Fathom.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Am not I? Walks not the earth the man I am +afraid of.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Fear you not Master Walter?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. No.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You do!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I don’t!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’ll prove it to you. You see him +breaking your young mistress’s heart, and have not the manhood to +stand by her.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. What could I do for her?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Let her out of prison. It were the act of a +man.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. That man am I!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Well said, brave Fathom!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. But my place!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’ll provide thee with a better one.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. ’Tis a capital place! So little to do, +and so much to get for’t. Six pounds in the year; two suits of +livery; shoes and stockings, and a famous larder. He’d be a +bold man that would put such a place in jeopardy. My place, madam, my +place!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I tell thee I’ll provide thee with a better +place. Thou shalt have less to do, and more to get. Now, +Fathom, hast thou courage to stand by thy mistress?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I have!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. That’s right.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. I’ll let my lady out.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> unperceived.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. That’s right. When, Fathom?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. To-night.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. She is to be married to-night.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. This evening, then. Master Walter is now in the +library, the key is on the outside, and I’ll lock him in.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Excellent! You’ll do it?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Rely upon it. How he’ll stare when he +finds himself a prisoner, and my young lady at liberty!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Most excellent! You’ll be sure to do +it?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Depend upon me! When Fathom undertakes a thing, +he defies fire and water—</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Coming forward.] Fathom!</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Sir!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Assemble straight the servants.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Yes, sir!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Mind,<br /> +And have them in the hall when I come down.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Yes, sir!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And see you do not stir a step,<br /> +But where I order you.</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Not an inch, sir!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. See that you don’t—away! So, my fair +mistress,</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Fathom</span> goes out.]</p> +<p>What’s this you have been plotting? An escape<br /> +For mistress Julia?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I avow it.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Do you?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Yes; and moreover to your face I tell you,<br /> +Most hardly do you use her!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Verily!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I wonder where’s her spirit! Had she +mine<br /> +She would not take ’t so easily. Do you mean<br /> +To force this marriage on her?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. With your leave.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You laugh.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Without it, then. I don’t laugh now.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. If I were she, I’d find a way to escape.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What would you do?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’d leap out of the window!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Your window should be barred.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’d cheat you still!—<br /> +I’d hang myself ere I’d be forced to marry!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Well said! You shall be married, then, +to-night.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Married to-night!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. As sure as I have said it.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Two words to that. Pray who’s to be my +bridegroom?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. A daughter’s husband is her father’s +choice.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. My father’s daughter ne’er shall wed +such husband!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Indeed!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’ll pick a husband for myself.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Indeed!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Indeed, sir; and indeed again!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Go dress you for the marriage ceremony.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. But, Master Walter, what is it you mean?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Modus</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Here comes your cousin;—he shall be your +bridesman!<br /> +The thought’s a sudden one,—that will excuse<br /> +Defect in your appointments. A plain dress,—<br /> +So ’tis of white,—will do.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’ll dress in black.<br /> +I’ll quit the castle.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. That you shall not do.<br /> +Its doors are guarded by my lord’s domestics,<br /> +Its avenues—its grounds. What you must do,<br /> +Do with a good grace! In an hour, or less,<br /> +Your father will be here. Make up your mind<br /> +To take with thankfulness the man he gives you.<br /> +Now, [Aside] if they find not out how beat their hearts,<br /> +I have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Why, cousin Modus! What! will you stand by<br +/> +And see me forced to marry? Cousin Modus!<br /> +Have you not got a tongue? Have you not eyes?<br /> +Do you not see I’m very—very ill,<br /> +And not a chair in all the corridor?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I’ll find one in the study.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Hang the study!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. My room’s at hand. I’ll fetch one +thence.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. You shan’t<br /> +I’d faint ere you came back!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. What shall I do?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Why don’t you offer to support me? +Well?<br /> +Give me your arm—be quick! [<span class="smcap">Modus</span> +offers his arm.]<br /> +Is that the way<br /> +To help a lady when she’s like to faint?<br /> +I’ll drop unless you catch me! [<span +class="smcap">Modus</span> supports her.]<br /> +That will do.<br /> +I’m better now—[<span class="smcap">Modus</span> offers to +leave her] don’t leave me! Is one well<br /> +Because one’s better? Hold my hand. Keep so.<br /> +I’ll soon recover so you move not. Loves he—</p> +<p>[Aside.]</p> +<p>Which I’ll be sworn he does, he’ll own it now.<br /> +Well, cousin Modus?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Well, sweet cousin!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Well?<br /> +You heard what Master Walter said?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I did.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And would you have me marry? Can’t you +speak?<br /> +Say yes or no.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. No, cousin!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Bravely said!<br /> +And why, my gallant cousin?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Why?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Ay, why?—<br /> +Women, you know, are fond of reasons—why<br /> +Would you not have me marry? How you blush!<br /> +Is it because you do not know the reason?<br /> +You mind me of a story of a cousin<br /> +Who once her cousin such a question asked.<br /> +He had not been to college, though—for books,<br /> +Had passed his time in reading ladies’ eyes.<br /> +Which he could construe marvellously well,<br /> +Though writ in language all symbolical.<br /> +Thus stood they once together, on a day—<br /> +As we stand now—discoursed as we discourse,—<br /> +But with this difference,—fifty gentle words<br /> +He spoke to her, for one she spoke to him!—<br /> +What a dear cousin! Well, as I did say,<br /> +As now I questioned thee, she questioned him.<br /> +And what was his reply? To think of it<br /> +Sets my heart beating—’twas so kind a one!<br /> +So like a cousin’s answer—a dear cousin!<br /> +A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin!<br /> +What did he say?—A man might find it out,<br /> +Though never read he Ovid’s Art of Love—<br /> +What did he say? He’d marry her himself!<br /> +How stupid are you, cousin! Let me go!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. You are not well yet?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I’m sure you’re not.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’m sure I am.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Nay, let me hold you, cousin! I like it.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Do you? I would wager you<br /> +You could not tell me why you like it. Well?<br /> +You see how true I know you! How you stare!<br /> +What see you in my face to wonder at?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. A pair of eyes!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. At last he’ll find his +tongue—[Aside.]<br /> +And saw you ne’er a pair of eyes before?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Not such a pair.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. And why?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. They are so bright!<br /> +You have a Grecian nose.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Indeed.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Indeed!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What kind of mouth have I?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. A handsome one. I never saw so sweet a pair of +lips!<br /> +I ne’er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Cousin, I’m well,—you need not hold me +now.<br /> +Do you not hear? I tell you I am well!<br /> +I need your arm no longer—take ’t away!<br /> +So tight it locks me, ’tis with pain I breathe!<br /> +Let me go, cousin! Wherefore do you hold<br /> +Your face so close to mine? What do you mean?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. You’ve questioned me, and now I’ll +question you.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. What would you learn?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. The use of lips.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. To speak.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Naught else?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. How bold my modest cousin grows!<br /> +Why, other use know you?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I do!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Indeed!<br /> +You’re wondrous wise? And pray what is it?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. This! [Attempts to kiss her.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Soft! my hand thanks you, cousin—for my +lips<br /> +I keep them for a husband!—Nay, stand off!<br /> +I’ll not be held in manacles again!<br /> +Why do you follow me?</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. I love you, cousin!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. O cousin, say you so! That’s passing +strange!<br /> +Falls out most crossly—is a dire mishap—<br /> +A thing to sigh for, weep for, languish for,<br /> +And die for!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Die for!</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>, Yes, with laughter, cousin,<br /> +For, cousin, I love you!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. And you’ll be mine?</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I will.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Your hand upon it.</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. Hand and heart.<br /> +Hie to thy dressing-room, and I’ll to mine—<br /> +Attire thee for the altar—so will I.<br /> +Whoe’er may claim me, thou’rt the man shall have me.<br /> +Away! Despatch! But hark you, ere you go,<br /> +Ne’er brag of reading Ovid’s Art of Love!</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. And cousin! stop—one little word with you!</p> +<p>[She returns, he snatches a kiss—They go out severally.]</p> +<h4>SCENE II.—Julia’s Chamber.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Julia</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. No word from him, and evening now set in!<br /> +He cannot play me false! His messenger<br /> +Is dogged—or letter intercepted. I’m<br /> +Beset with spies!—No rescue!—No escape!—<br /> +The hour at hand that brings my bridegroom home!<br /> +No relative to aid me! friend to counsel me.</p> +<p>[A knock at the door.]</p> +<p>Come in.</p> +<p>[Enter two Female Attendants.]</p> +<p>Your will?</p> +<p><i>First Attendant</i>. Your toilet waits, my lady;<br /> +’Tis time you dress.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. ’Tis time I die! [A peal of +bells.] What’s that?</p> +<p><i>First Attendant</i>. Your wedding bells, my lady.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Merrily<br /> +They ring my knell!<br /> +[Second Attendant presents an open case.]<br /> +And pray you what are these?</p> +<p><i>Second Attendant</i>. Your wedding jewels.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Set them by.</p> +<p><i>Second Attendant</i>. Indeed.<br /> +Was ne’er a braver set! A necklace, brooch,<br /> +And earrings all of brilliants, with a hoop<br /> +To guard your wedding ring.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. ’Twould need a guard<br /> +That lacks a heart to keep it!</p> +<p><i>Second Attendant</i>. Here’s a heart<br /> +Suspended from the necklace—one huge diamond<br /> +Imbedded in a host of smaller ones!<br /> +Oh! how it sparkles!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Show it me! Bright heart,<br /> +Thy lustre, should I wear thee, will be false,—<br /> +For thou the emblem art of love and truth,—<br /> +From her that wears thee unto him that gives thee.<br /> +Back to thy case! Better thou ne’er shouldst leave it—<br +/> +Better thy gems a thousand fathoms deep<br /> +In their native mine again, than grace my neck,<br /> +And lend thy fair face to palm off a lie!</p> +<p><i>First Attendant</i>. Will’t please you dress?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Ah! in infected clothes<br /> +New from a pest-house! Leave me! If I dress,<br /> +I dress alone! O for a friend! Time gallops!</p> +<p>[Attendants go out.]</p> +<p>He that should guard me is mine enemy!<br /> +Constrains me to abide the fatal die,<br /> +My rashness, not my reason cast! He comes,<br /> +That will exact the forfeit!—Must I pay it?—<br /> +E’en at the cost of utter bankruptcy!<br /> +What’s to be done? Pronounce the vow that parts<br /> +My body from my soul! To what it loathes<br /> +Links that, while this is linked to what it loves!<br /> +Condemned to such perdition! What’s to be done?<br /> +Stand at the altar in an hour from this!<br /> +An hour thence seated at his board—a wife<br /> +Thence!—frenzy’s in the thought! What’s to be +done?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What! run the waves so high? Not ready yet!<br +/> +Your lord will soon be here! The guests collect.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Show me some way to ’scape these +nuptials! Do it!<br /> +Some opening for avoidance or escape,—<br /> +Or to thy charge I’ll lay a broken heart!<br /> +It may be, broken vows, and blasted honour,<br /> +Or else a mind distraught!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What’s this?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. The strait<br /> +I’m fallen into my patience cannot bear.<br /> +It frights my reason—warps my sense of virtue!<br /> +Religion!—changes me into a thing<br /> +I look at with abhorring!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Listen to me.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Listen to me! If this contract<br /> +Thou holdest me to—abide thou the result!<br /> +Answer to heaven for what I suffer!—act!<br /> +Prepare thyself for such calamity<br /> +To fall on me, and those whose evil stars<br /> +Have linked them with me, as no past mishap,<br /> +However rare, and marvellously sad<br /> +Can parallel! lay thy account to live<br /> +A smileless life, die an unpitied death—<br /> +Abhorred, abandoned of thy kind,—as one<br /> +Who had the guarding of a young maid’s peace,—<br /> +Looked on and saw her rashly peril it;<br /> +And when she saw her danger, and confessed<br /> +Her fault, compelled her to complete her ruin!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Hast done?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Another moment, and I have.<br /> +Be warned! Beware how you abandon me<br /> +To myself! I’m young, rash, inexperienced! tempted<br /> +By most insufferable misery!<br /> +Bold, desperate, and reckless! Thou hast age<br /> +Experience, wisdom, and collectedness,—<br /> +Power, freedom,—everything that I have not,<br /> +Yet want, as none e’er wanted! Thou canst save me,<br /> +Thou oughtst! thou must! I tell thee at his feet<br /> +I’ll fall a corse—ere mount his bridal bed!<br /> +So choose betwixt my rescue and my grave;—<br /> +And quickly too! The hour of sacrifice<br /> +Is near! Anon the immolating priest<br /> +Will summon me! Devise some speedy means<br /> +To cheat the altar of its victim. Do it!<br /> +Nor leave the task to me!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Hast done?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I have.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Then list to me—and silently, if not<br /> +With patience.—[Brings chairs for himself and her.]<br /> +How I watched thee from thy childhood<br /> +I’ll not recall to thee. Thy father’s wisdom—<br /> +Whose humble instrument I was—directed<br /> +Your nonage should be passed in privacy,<br /> +From your apt mind that far outstripped your years,<br /> +Fearing the taint of an infected world;—<br /> +For, in the rich grounds, weeds once taking root,<br /> +Grow strong as flowers. He might be right or wrong!<br /> +I thought him right; and therefore did his bidding.<br /> +Most certainly he loved you—so did I;<br /> +Ay! well as I had been myself your father!</p> +<p>[His hand is resting upon his knee, <span class="smcap">Julia</span> +attempts to take it—he withdraws it—looks at her—she +hangs her head.]</p> +<p>Well; you may take my hand! I need not say<br /> +How fast you grew in knowledge, and in goodness,—<br /> +That hope could scarce enjoy its golden dreams<br /> +So soon fulfilment realised them all!<br /> +Enough. You came to womanhood. Your heart,<br /> +Pure as the leaf of the consummate bud,<br /> +That’s new unfolded by the smiling sun,<br /> +And ne’er knew blight nor canker!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Julia</span> attempts to place her other hand on +his shoulder—he leans from her—looks at her—she hangs her +head again.]</p> +<p>Put it there!<br /> +Where left I off? I know! When a good woman<br /> +Is fitly mated, she grows doubly good,<br /> +How good soe’er before! I found the man<br /> +I thought a match for thee; and, soon as found,<br /> +Proposed him to thee. ’Twas your father’s will,<br /> +Occasion offering, you should be married<br /> +Soon as you reached to womanhood.—You liked<br /> +My choice, accepted him.—We came to town;<br /> +Where, by important matter summoned thence,<br /> +I left you an affianced bride!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. You did!<br /> +You did! [Leans her head upon her hand and weeps.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Nay, check thy tears! Let judgment now,<br /> +Not passion, be awake. On my return,<br /> +I found thee—what? I’ll not describe the thing<br /> +I found thee then! I’ll not describe my pangs<br /> +To see thee such a thing! The engineer<br /> +Who lays the last stone of his sea-built tower,<br /> +It cost him years and years of toil to raise—<br /> +And, smiling at it, tells the winds and waves<br /> +To roar and whistle now—but, in a night,<br /> +Beholds the tempest sporting in its place—<br /> +May look aghast, as I did!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. [Falling on her knees.] Pardon me!<br /> +Forgive me! pity me!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Resume thy seat. [Raises her.]<br /> +I pity thee; perhaps not thee alone<br /> +It fits to sue for pardon.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Me alone!<br /> +None other!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. But to vindicate myself,<br /> +I name thy lover’s stern desertion of thee.<br /> +What wast thou then with wounded pride? A thing<br /> +To leap into a torrent! throw itself<br /> +From a precipice! rush into a fire! I saw<br /> +Thy madness—knew to thwart it were to chafe it—<br /> +And humoured it to take that course, I thought,<br /> +Adopted, least ’twould rue!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. ’Twas wisely done.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. At least ’twas for the best.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. To blame thee for it<br /> +Was adding shame to shame! But Master Walter,<br /> +These nuptials!—must they needs go on?</p> +<p>Servant. [Entering.] More guests<br /> +Arrive.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Attend to them. [Servant goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Dear Master Walter!<br /> +Is there no way to escape these nuptials?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Know’st not<br /> +What with these nuptials comes? Hast thou forgot?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Nothing!—I did tell thee of a thing.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What was it?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. To forget it was a fault!<br /> +Look back and think.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I can’t remember it.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Fathers, make straws your children! +Nature’s nothing,<br /> +Blood nothing! Once in other veins it runs,<br /> +It no more yearneth for the parent flood,<br /> +Than doth the stream that from the source disparts.<br /> +Talk not of love instinctive—what you call so<br /> +Is but the brat of custom! Your own flesh<br /> +By habit cleaves to you—without,<br /> +Hath no adhesion. [Aside.] So; you have forgot<br /> +You have a father, and are here to meet him!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I’ll not deny it.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You should blush for’t.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. No!<br /> +No! no: hear, Master Walter! what’s a father<br /> +That you’ve not been to me? Nay, turn not from me,<br /> +For at the name a holy awe I own,<br /> +That now almost inclines my knee to earth!<br /> +But thou to me, except a father’s name,<br /> +Hast all the father been: the care—the love—<br /> +The guidance—the protection of a father.<br /> +Canst wonder, then, if like thy child I feel,—<br /> +And feeling so, that father’s claim forget<br /> +Whom ne’er I knew save by the name of one?<br /> +Oh, turn to me, and do not chide me! or<br /> +If thou wilt chide, chide on! but turn to me!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Struggling with emotion.] My Julia!<br /> +[Embraces her.]</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Now, dear Master Walter, hear me!<br /> +Is there no way to ’scape these nuptials?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Julia,<br /> +A promise made admits not of release,<br /> +Save by consent or forfeiture of those<br /> +Who hold it—so it should be pondered well<br /> +Before we let it go. Ere man should say<br /> +I broke the word I had the power to keep,<br /> +I’d lose the life I had the power to part with!<br /> +Remember, Julia, thou and I to-day<br /> +Must, to thy father, of thy training render<br /> +A strict account. While honour’s left to us,<br /> +We have something—nothing, having all but that.<br /> +Now for thy last act of obedience, Julia!<br /> +Present thyself before thy bridegroom! [She assents.] Good!<br +/> +My Julia’s now herself! Show him thy heart,<br /> +And to his honour leave’t to set thee free<br /> +Or hold thee bound. Thy father will be by!</p> +<h4>SCENE III.—The Banqueting’ Room.</h4> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Walter</span> and <span +class="smcap">Master Heartwell</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Heart</i>. Thanks, Master Walter! Ne’er was child +more bent<br /> +To do her father’s will, you’ll own, than mine:<br /> +Yet never one more froward.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. All runs fair—<br /> +Fair may all end! To-day you’ll learn the cause<br /> +That took me out of town. But soft a while,—<br /> +Here comes the bridegroom, with his friends, and here<br /> +The all-obedient bride.</p> +<p>[Enter on one hand <span class="smcap">Julia</span>, and on the other +hand <span class="smcap">Lord Rochdale</span> with <span class="smcap">Lord +Tinsel</span> and friends—afterwards <span +class="smcap">Clifford</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Is she not fair?</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. She’ll do. Your servant, lady! +Master Walter,<br /> +We’re glad to see you. Sirs, you’re welcome all.<br /> +What wait they for? Are we to wed or not?<br /> +We’re ready—why don’t they present the bride?<br /> +I hope they know she is to wed an earl.</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. Should I speak first?</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Not for your coronet!<br /> +I, as your friend, may make the first advance.<br /> +We’ve come here to be married. Where’s the bride?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. There stands she, lord; if ’tis her will to +wed,<br /> +His lordship’s free to take her.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Not a step!<br /> +I, as your friend, may lead her to your lordship.<br /> +Fair lady, by your leave.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. No! not to you.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. I ask your hand to give it to his lordship.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Nor to his lordship—save he will accept<br /> +My hand without my heart! but I’ll present<br /> +My knee to him, and, by his lofty rank,<br /> +Implore him now to do a lofty deed<br /> +Will lift its stately head above his rank,—<br /> +Assert him nobler yet in worth than name,—<br /> +And, in the place of an unwilling bride,<br /> +Unto a willing debt or make him lord,—<br /> +Whose thanks shall be his vassals, night and day<br /> +That still shall wait upon him!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. What means this?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What is’t behoves a wife to bring her +lord?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. A whole heart, and a true one.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. I have none!<br /> +Not half a heart—the fraction of a heart!<br /> +Am I a woman it befits to wed?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Why, where’s thy heart?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Gone—out of my keeping!<br /> +Lost, past recovery: right and title to it—<br /> +And all given up! and he that’s owner on’t,<br /> +So fit to wear it, were it fifty hearts,<br /> +I’d give it to him all!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thou dost not mean<br /> +His lordship’s secretary?</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Yes. Away<br /> +Disguises! in that secretary know<br /> +The master of the heart, of which the poor,<br /> +Unvalued, empty casket, at your feet—<br /> +Its jewel gone—I now despairing throw!</p> +<p>[Kneels.]</p> +<p>Of his lord’s bride he’s lord! lord paramount!<br /> +To whom her virgin homage first she paid,—<br /> +’Gainst whom rebelled in frowardness alone,<br /> +Nor knew herself how loyal to him, till<br /> +Another claimed her duty—then awoke<br /> +To sense of all she owed him—all his worth—<br /> +And all her undeservings!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Lady, we came not here to treat of hearts,—<br +/> +But marriage; which, so please you, is with us<br /> +A simple joining, by the priest, of hands.<br /> +A ring’s put on, a prayer or two is said;<br /> +You’re man and wife,—and nothing more! For hearts,<br /> +We oftener do without, than with them, lady!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. So does not wed this lady!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Who are you?</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. I’m secretary to the Earl of Rochdale.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. My lord!</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. I know him not—</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. I know him now—<br /> +Your lordship’s rival! Once Sir Thomas Clifford.</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Yes, and the bridegroom of that lady then,<br /> +Then loved her—loves her still!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Was loved by her—<br /> +Though then she knew it not!—is loved by her,<br /> +As now she knows, and all the world may know!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. We can’t be laughed at. We are here to +wed,<br /> +And shall fulfil our contract.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Clifford!</p> +<p><i>Clif</i>. Julia!<br /> +You will not give your hand?</p> +<p>[A pause. <span class="smcap">Julia</span> seems utterly +lost.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You have forgot<br /> +Again. You have a father!</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Bring him now,—<br /> +To see thy Julia justify thy training,<br /> +And lay her life down to redeem her word!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And so redeems her all! Is it your will,<br /> +My lord, these nuptials should go on?</p> +<p><i>Roch</i>. It is.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Then is it mine they stop!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. I told your lordship<br /> +You should not keep a Hunchback for your agent.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thought like my father, my good lord, who said<br /> +He would not have a Hunchback for his son—<br /> +So do I pardon you the savage slight.<br /> +My lord, that I am not as straight as you,<br /> +Was blemish neither of my thought nor will,<br /> +My head nor heart. It was no act of mine.—<br /> +Yet did it curdle Nature’s kindly milk<br /> +E’en where ’tis richest—in a parent’s +breast—<br /> +To cast me out to heartless fosterage,<br /> +Nor heartless always, as it proved—and give<br /> +My portion to another! the same blood—<br /> +But I’ll be sworn, in vein, my lord, and soul—<br /> +Although his trunk did swerve no more than yours—<br /> +Not half so straight as I.</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. Upon my life<br /> +You’ve got a modest agent, Rochdale! Now<br /> +He’ll prove himself descended—mark my words—<br /> +From some small gentleman</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And so you thought,<br /> +Where Nature played the churl, it would be fit<br /> +That fortune played it too. You would have had<br /> +My lord absolve me of my agency!<br /> +Fair lord, the flaw did cost me fifty times—<br /> +A hundred times my agency:—but all’s<br /> +Recovered. Look, my lord, a testament<br /> +To make a pension of his lordship’s rent-roll!<br /> +It is my father’s, and was left by him,<br /> +In case his heir should die without a son,<br /> +Then to be opened. Heaven did send a son<br /> +To bless the heir. Heaven took its gift away,<br /> +He died—his father died. And Master Walter—<br /> +The unsightly agent of his lordship there—<br /> +The Hunchback whom your lordship would have stripped<br /> +Of his agency—is now the Earl of Rochdale!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. We’ve made a small mistake here. Never +mind,<br /> +’Tis nothing in a lord.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. The Earl of Rochdale!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. And what of that? Thou know’st not half my +greatness!<br /> +A prouder title, Julia, have I yet,<br /> +Sooner than part with which I’d give that up,<br /> +And be again plain Master Walter. What!<br /> +Dost thou not apprehend me? Yes, thou dost!<br /> +Command thyself; don’t gasp. My pupil—daughter!<br /> +Come to thy father’s heart!</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Julia</span> rushes into his arms.]</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Fathom</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Thievery! +Elopement—escape—arrest!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What’s the matter?</p> +<p><i>Fath</i>. Mistress Helen is running away with Master +Modus—Master Modus is running away with Mistress Helen—but we +have caught them, secured them, and here they come, to receive the reward +of their merits.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Helen</span> and <span +class="smcap">Modus</span>, followed by Servants.]</p> +<p><i>Helen</i>. I’ll ne’er wed man, if not my cousin +Modus.</p> +<p><i>Mod</i>. Nor woman I, save cousin Helen’s she.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [To <span class="smcap">Master +Heartwell</span>.] A daughter, have you, and a nephew, too,<br /> +Without their match in duty! Let them marry.<br /> +For you, sir, who to-day have lost an earldom,<br /> +Yet would have shared that earldom with my child—<br /> +My only one—content yourself with prospect<br /> +Of the succession; it must fall to you,<br /> +And fit yourself to grace it. Ape not those<br /> +Who rank by pride. The man of simplest bearing<br /> +Is yet a lord, when he’s a lord indeed!</p> +<p><i>Tin</i>. The paradox is obsolete. Ne’er heed!<br /> +Learn from his book, and practise out of mine!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Sir Thomas Clifford, take my daughter’s hand!<br +/> +If now you know the master of her heart!<br /> +Give it, my Julia! You suspect, I see,<br /> +And rightly, there has been some masking here.<br /> +Content thee, daughter, thou shalt know anon,<br /> +How jealousy of my mis-shapen back<br /> +Made me mistrustful of a child’s affections—<br /> +Who doubted e’en a wife’s—so that I dropped<br /> +The title of thy father, lest thy duty<br /> +Should pay the debt thy love could solve alone.<br /> +All this and more, that to thy friends and thee<br /> +Pertains, at fitting time thou shalt be told.<br /> +But now thy nuptials wait—the happy close<br /> +Of thy hard trial—wholesome, though severe!<br /> +The world won’t cheat thee now—thy heart is proved;—<br +/> +Thou know’st thy peace by finding out its bane,<br /> +And ne’er will act from reckless impulse more!</p> +<h2>Footnotes:</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1" +class="footnote">[1]</a> The other play, The Love-Chase, is released +in a separated eText with Project Gutenberg and not included +here.—DP.</p> +<p><a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2" +class="footnote">[2]</a> In representation, the passages following +this are curtailed and the scene runs as follows:—</p> +<p>Master Walter continues—<br /> +The first side shows their passion in the dawn—<br /> +In the next side ’tis shining open day—<br /> +In the third there’s clouding—I but touch on these<br /> +To make a long tale brief, and bring thee to<br /> +The last side.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. What shows that?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The fate of love<br /> +That will not be advised.—The scene’s a dungeon,<br /> +Its tenant is the page—he lies in fetters.</p> +<p><i>Julia</i>. Hard!<br /> +Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on! &c.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNCHBACK***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 3480-h.htm or 3480-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/4/8/3480 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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