abandoning her! never shall I again be at peace with myself! Lady Anne. [Without.] Where is your master? Mor Hark! My wife? She tortures me with her silent sufferings and her stifled sighs. Passion, bitter reproach, and violent menace, would be infinitely more supportable. In short, I have not deserved her kindness, and cannot endure it. [Exit. Enter LADY ANNE. Lady A. Mr Mordent! Thus does he continually shun me! Why then do I haunt him? Why intrude myself upon him?-Must this have no end? Fond, foolish heart, these aches and pains are fruitless! Sleep in forgetfulness, cease to feel, and be at peace! Mrs Sarsnet. [Without.] I tell you, I can't stay! Lady A. The stories, too, with which this kind but officious creature torments me Enter MRS SARSNET, hastily. Mrs S. I've got it, my lady! I've got it! Mrs S. Why, I'll tell your ladyship. A queer quandary kind of person brought my master a letter, which I knew was suspicious. So my master's coat was all powder; over here [Significantly.] How he came by it, I don't know. Lady A. Pshaw ! Pray don't tease me. Mrs S. So, my lady, he took it off, and ordered one of the fellows to give it a brush. So, making a pretence, I was close at his heels. Lady A. At whose heels? Mrs S. The footman's, my lady. So, while he was brushing, he had a wranglation with the cook; and turned about to gabble footman's gibberish with she, so I, having a hawk's eye, twirled my hand behind him, so, and felt in the pocket; and there I found this written letter, which I slily slipped under my apron; so Lady A. Take a letter out of your master's pocket? Mrs S. Yes, my lady; because being broke open, I read the contents, and found that it was from one Mrs Enfield, to appoint an assassination between my master and a young girl. Lady A. Give it me Mrs S. Yes, my lady; I was sure you could not but wish to see it. Lady A. Mistress Sarsnet, I have frequently cautioned you against practices like these, which are mean, dishonest, and pilfering. Mrs S. My lady! Lady A. To have robbed your master of his money, would have been less culpable than to steal from him the knowledge of transactions which, because of their impropriety, he has not the courage to avow. Mrs S. Whimpering, and with Tokens of great Affection.] It's very hard, because I can't bear your lady -ladyship's ili usage, and, and, and always feel as if my very stays were a-bursting, to see your, your treatment, time after time--that I should get myself ill, ill, ill will, because I love you from the very bottom of my heart. Lady A. I have winked at these liberties too often: I'll suffer them no longer. Mrs S. Very very well-Since your ladyship is so angry, you may turn, turn me away, if you please, and quite break, break, break my heart! Lady A. No; the fault is more than half my own: but, from this time, I seriously warn you against such improper, such base actions. Mrs S. Very very well, my lady! I'll be deaf, and dumb, and bind! and, when I see you treated worser than a savage, I'll burst twenty laces a-day, before I'll speak a word! Lady A. [With great kindness.] What you have done has been affectionately meant. I am sorry to have given you pain, and to have excited your tears. But I must earnestly desire you will commit no more such mistakes. They are wrong in themselves, and every way fatal to my peace. Mrs S. [Catching and kissing her Hand.] You are the tenderest and best of ladies! and I know who is an unfeeling brute ! [Exit LADY Anne. Enter LENNOX and CHEVEril. Len. Pray, Mistress Sarsnet, is Mr Mordent within? Mrs S. Indeed, sir, I don't know! [Muttering.] Mr Mordent is a good-for-nothing chap! [Exit. Len. I'll bet you a thousand, Cheveril, your charmer does not equal the girl I have this moment left. Chev. Done, for ten thousand! Len. You would lose. Chev. You never beheld so peerless a beauty! Len. How did you become acquainted with her? Chev. We are not yet acquainted; [Sighs.] and I begin to fear we never shall be. Len. Oh, oh! Chev. I met her three times in the Green Park. The first moment I gazed at her with admiration—as soon as she was gone by! Len. Gone by! Chev. Good manners, you know, would not let me stare her in the face. Such a shape! Such elegance! The next time I determined to speak to her, and approached as resolutely as Hercules to the Hydra. Len. A good simile for a beauty! Chev. I had studied a speech; but, somehow, there was such a sweet severity in her looks—I—I had not the power to utter a word! Len. Courageous lover! Chev. The third time, however, it being a little darker, for it was always in the evening, I was more undaunted; so, fully determined to throw myself at her feet, and declare my passion, up I marched! But, as the devil would have it, she turned and looked me full in the face; and her beauty, and-and virtue— and-and modesty, were so awful-that my heart sunk within me! Len. Ha ha! ha! Chev. It is now a fortnight since; and, though I have walked the Green Park, morning, noon, and night, every day, I could never once again set eyes on her! Intolerable booby that I was, to lose three such precious opportunities! Len. Of making love to a lady's-maid? Chev. Oh for one momentary glance, that I might give vent to the passion that devours me! Len. Ha! ha! ha! Chev. What! You think I dare not? Len. Ha ha! ha! Look you, Cheveril, I know you; a lighted match and the mouth of a cannon could not cow you like the approach of a petticoat. Chev. I-Afraid of women! Damme, I don't understand having my character attacked and traduced! Make a Master Jackey of me? I am a wicked one! Len. Ha ha ha! Wicked? You are as conscientious as a drunken methodist, or as a dying miser! You are not only afraid of the woman, but of the sin! Chev. Why, if-No, damme, 'tis not true! I have no more conscience than yourself. Len. Me! I have a deal of conscience. Pleasure, I own, can tempt me; but I make no pretensions, like you, to sin for the sake of reputation. Chev. Sir, I make no such pretensions! I am, in ́deed, resolved to be a fellow of enterprise, pith, and soul, but not by vile rascally methods. I'll love all the women, and perhaps trick some of the men; but not seduce wives, ruin daughters, and murder husbands and fathers. No! If I cannot be wicked with out being criminal, damme if I do not live and die an honest dull dog! Enter MORDENT, searching his Pockets. [Exit. Mor. Curse the letter-It's gone-Careless booby! Len. What's the matter? Mor. A thousand to one but it has fallen into the hands of Lady Anne! Len. What have you lost? Mor. [Still searching.] A damned epistle, from— Len. Hem! Enter LADY ANNE. Lady A. Mr Mordent, I am glad to meet with you! Mor. Glad! Is the thing so difficult? Lady A. I did not say so: I meant nothing unkind. Mor. Ha ha! ha! Lady A. Indeed I did not-I wish to speak to you. Mor. [To LENNOX retiring.] Stay where you are, Lennox. What, man, you are in no fear of soothing insult! You are not married. Len. I'll return in five minutes. [Exit, MORDENT following. Lady A. Pray, Mr Mordent Mor. Pshaw! I know I am a bear at the stake; don't shorten my tether. Lady A. I have a paper [Showing the Letter. Mor. [Returning.] Ay, ay! I know it. Come, begin! I am prepared. Lady A. It fell into my hands by the reprehensible but unauthorised curiosity of my woman. Mor. Ha ha! ha! Lady A. Indeed, I have never opened it. Mor. Nor she either? Lady A. Yes; but that is not my fault. Mor. Yours indeed? Impossible! |