Charl. Oh, my glove! my glove! my glove! you are in a perfect storm! Lord! if you make such a rout with one's hand only, what would you do if you had one's heart? Darn. That's impossible to tell.were asking me of Seyward, madam ? -But you Charl. Oh, ay! that's true. Well, now you are very good again.- -Come, tell me all the affair, and then you shall see-how I will like you. Darn. Oh! that I could thus play with inclination! Charl. Psha! but you don't tell me now. Darn. There is not much to tell-only this: We met the Attorney-General, to whom he has given a very sensible account of himself, and the doctor's proceedings.-But, still more fortunate! there happened to be a gentleman present, who came from the same part of the country with Seyward, and is well acquainted with his family, and even remembers the circumstance of his mother's death; who promises to be speedy and diligent in his enquiries.-We have been to the Commons to search for her will, but none has been entered.-But as it can be proved she died possessed of eight or ten thousand pounds, the Attorney-General seems very clear in his opinion, that as the doctor, at the time of the death of Seyward's mother, was intrusted with her whole affairs, the Court of Equity will oblige him to be accountable. Charl. If Seyward does not recover his fortune, you must absolutely get him a commission, and bring him into acquaintance. Darn. Upon my word I will. Charl. And shew him to all the women of taste; and I'll have you call him my pretty fellow too. Darn. I will, indeed!--but hear meCharl. You cann't conceive how prettily he makes love. Darn. Not so well as you make your defence, Charlotte, Charl. Lord! I had forgot; he is to teach me Greek, too. Darn. Trifling tyrant! how long, Charlotte, do you think you can find new evasions for what I say to you? Charl. Lord, you are horrid silly! but since 'tis love that makes you such a dunce-poor Darnley! I forgive you. Darn. That's kind, however--But, to complete my joy, be kinder yet-and Charl. Oh! I cann't! I cann't!-Lord! did you never ride a horse-match? Darn. Was ever so wild a question! Charl. Because, if you have, it runs in my head you gallopped a mile beyond the winning-post, to make sure on't. Darn. Now, I understand you. But since you will have me touch every thing so very tenderly, Charlotte, how shall I find proper words to ask you the lover's last necessary question. Enter Colonel LAMBERT. Col. Lamb. Name them this moment; for, positively, this is the last time of asking. Churl. Psha! who sent for you? Col. Lumb. I only came to teach you to speak plain English, my dear. Charl. Lord! mind your own business, cann't you? Col. Lamb. So I will; for I will make you do more of yours in two minutes, than you would have done without me in a twelvemonth. Why, how now!-do you think the man's to dangle after your ridiculous airs for ever? Charl. This is mighty pretty! Col. Lamb. You'll say so on Thursday se'nnight, for, let affairs take what turn they will in the family, that's positively your wedding day-Nay, you shan't stir. Charl. Was ever such assurance ! Darn. Upon my life, madam, I am out of countenance! I don't know how to behave myself. Charl. No, no; let him go on only-this is beyond whatever was known, sure! Col. Lamb. Ha! ha! if I was to leave you to yourselves, what a couple of pretty out-of-countenanced figures you would make! humming and hawing upon the vulgar points of jointure and pin-money.- -Come, come, I know what's proper on both sides; you shall leave it to me. Darn. I had rather Charlotte would name her own terms to me. Col. Lamb. Have you a mind to any thing particular, madam? Charl. Why, sure! what, do you think I'm only to be filled out as you please, and sweetened and sipped up like a dish of tea? Col. Lamb. Why, pray, madam, when your tea's ready, what have you to do but to drink it? But you, I suppose, expect a lover's heart, like your lamp, should be always flaming at your elbow; and when it's ready to go out, you indolently supply it with the spirit of contradiction. Charl. And so you suppose that your assurance has made an end of this matter? Col. Lamb. Not till you have given him your hand upon it. Charl. That then would complete it? Charl. Why, then, take it, Darnley.-Now, I presume, you are in high triumph, sir. Col. Lamb. No, sister; now you are consistent with that good sense I always thought you mistress of. Charl. And now I beg we may separate; for our being seen together, at this critical juncture, may give that devil, the doctor, suspicion of a confederacy, and make him set some engine at work that we are not aware of. Col. Lamb. It's a very proper caution. Come along, Darnley; nay, you must leave her now, whatever violence you do yourself. Charl. Ay, ay, take him with you, brother-or Charl. Oh! there's a thousand points to be ad-stay, Darnley; if you please, you may come along justed before that's answered. with me. [Exeunt. SCENE I-A Parlour in Sir JOHN LAMBERT's house. Enter DARNLEY and CHARLOTTE. Charl. But really, will you stand to the agreement, though, that I have made with the doctor? Darn. Why not? you shall not break your word upon my account, though he might be a villain you gave it to. Chart. Well, I take it as a compliment; not but I have some hopes of getting over it, and justly too: but don't let me tell you now, I love to surprise though you shall know all, if you desire it.. Darn. No, Charlotte; I don't want the secret: I am satisfied in your inclination to trust me. Charl. Well then, I'll keep the secret, only to shew you that you may, upon occasion, trust me with one. Darn. But pray, has the doctor yet given you any proof of his having declined his interest to your father? Charl. Yes; he told me just now he had brought him to pause upon it, and does not question in two days to complete it; but desires, in the mean time, you will be ready and punctual with the premium, Darn. Suppose I should talk with Sir John myself?-'tis true he has slighted me of late, Charl. No matter-Here he comes-This may open another scene of action to that I believe my brother's preparing for, Enter Sir JOHN and Lady LAMBERT. Sir J. Lamb. Mr Darnley, I am glad I have met you here. Darn. I have endeavoured twice to-day, sir, to pay my respects to you. Sir J. Lamb. Sir, I'll be plain with you--I went out to avoid you ; but where the welfare of a child is concerned, you must not take it ill if we don't stand upon ceremony-However, since I have reason now to be more in temper than perhaps I was at that time, I shall be glad to talk with you. Darn. I take it as a favour, sir. Sir J. Lamb. You must allow, Mr Darnley, that conscience is the rule which every honest man ought to walk by. Darn. 'Tis granted, sir. Sir J. Lamb. Then give me leave to tell you, sir, that giving you my daughter would be to act against that conscience I pretend to, while I thought you an ill liver; and consequently the same tie obliges me to bestow her on a better man Charl. And I appeal even to yourself, sirHas not the doctor just now in the garden spoke in favour of Mr Darnley to you? Nay, pray, sir, be plain; because more depends on that than you can easily imagine or believe, Sir J. Lamb. What senseless insinuation have you got into your head now? I Charl. Be so kind, sir, first to answer me, that may be better able to inform you. Sir J. Lamb. Well, I own he has declined his interest in favour of Mr Darnley; but I must tell you, madam, he did it in so modest, so friendly, so good-natured, so conscientious a manner, that I now think myself more than ever bound in honour to espouse him. Charl, But now, sir, (only for argument's sake) suppose I could prove that all this seeming virtue was artificial; that his regard for Mr Darnley was neither founded upon modesty, friendship, good-nature, nor conscience; or, in short, that he has, like a villain, bartered, bargained to give me to Mr Darnley for half the four thousand pounds you valued his consent at; I say, sir, suppose this could be proved, where would be his virtue then? Sir J. Lamb. It is impious to suppose it. Charl. Then, sir, from what principle must you suppose that I accuse him? Sir J. Lamb. From an obstinate prejudice to all that's good and virtuous. Charl. That's too hard, sir. But the worst your opinion can provoke me to, is to marry Mr Darnley without either his consent or yours. Sir J. Lamb. What, do you brave me, madam? Charl. No, sir; but I scorn a lie; and will so far vindicate my integrity, as to insist on your believing me; if not, as a child you abandon, I have a right to throw myself into other arms for protection. Darn. Dear Charlotte, how your spirit charms me! Sir J. Lamb. I am confounded. These tears cannot be counterfeit; nor can this be true. Lady Lamb. Indeed, my dear, I fear it is. Give me leave to ask you one question. In all our mutual course of happiness, have I ever yet deceived you with a falsehood? Sir J. Lamb. Never. Lady Lamb. Would you then believe me should I accuse him even of crimes which virtue blushes but to mention ? Sir J. Lamb. To what extravagance would you drive me? Lady Lamb. I would before have undeceived you, when his late artifice turned the honest duty of your son into his own reproach and ruin: but knowing then your temper was inaccessible, I durst not offer it.-But suppose I should be able to let you see his villany; make him repeat his odious love to me in your own hearing; at once throw off the mask, and shew the barefaced traitor? Sir J. Lamb. Is it possible? Lady Lamb. But then, sir, I must prevail on you to descend to the poor shifts we are reduced Lady Lamb. But I'm afraid I interrupt your meditations. Dr Cant. No, madam, no; I was only looking over some pious exhortations here, for the use of a society of chosen brethren. Lady Lamb. Ah, doctor! what have you done to me? the trouble of my mind since our last unfortunate conference, is not to be expressed. You indeed discovered to me, what, perhaps, for my own peace, 'twere better I had never been acquainted with; but I had not sufficient time to lay my heart open to you. Dr Cant. Whither, madam, would you lead me? Lady Lamb. I have been uneasy, too, not knowing how far you might mistake my behaviour on the last accident that happened; but I was really so shocked, so terrified, I knew not what I was doing: only, had I joined in your defence against the colonel, it would have been evident that I was his enemy; and I have uses for his friendship. Silence, therefore, was my only prudent part; and I knew your credit with Sir John needed no support. Dr Cant. Let me presume then to hope, that what I did, you judge was self-defence, and pure necessity. Lady Lamb. Mr Darnley, shall we beg your Lady Lamb. And perhaps, after all, the accileave and you, Charlotte, take the least suspec-dent was lucky; for Sir John, in order to obviate ted way to send the doctor to me directly. Charl. I have a thought will do it, madam. Sir J. Lamb. Oh, Charlotte! Oh, Mr Darnley! Darn. Have but resolution, sir, and fear nothing. [Exeunt DARNLEY and CHARLOTTE. Lady Lamb. Now, sir, you are to consider what a desperate disease I have undertaken to cure: therefore, be sure to keep close and still; and when the proof is full, appear at your discretion. Sir J. Lamb. Fear not; I will conform myself Yet, be not angry, my love, if in a case like this, where I should not believe even him accusing you; be not angry, say, if I have also charity enough to hope you may yet be deceived in what you charge him with, till the evidence of my own senses assure me of the contrary. any ill constructions that may be put upon it, insists now that we should be more together, to let the world see his confidence in us both. This relieves us from restraint, and I now dare tell you-but no—I won't Dr Cant. But why, madam?-Let me beseech you— Lady Lamb. No-besides-what need you ask me Dr Cant. Ah! do not endeavour to decoy my foolish heart, too apt to flatter itself. You cannot, sure, think kindly of me? Lady Lamb. Well, well, I would have you imagine so. Dr Cant. Besides, may I not with reason suspect that this apparent goodness is but artifice, a shadow of compliance, meant only to persuade me from your daughter. Lady Lamb. Methinks this doubt of me seems rather founded on your settled resolution not to resign her.—'Tis she, I find, is your substantial happiness. Dr Cant. Oh, that you could but fear I thought so! Lady Lamb. I am convinced of it. I can assure you, sir, I should have saved you this trouble, had I known how deeply you were engaged to her. Dr Cant. Tears !-then I must believe youbut indeed you wrong me. To prove my innocence, it is not an hour since I pressed Sir John to give Charlotte to young Darnley. Lady Lamb. Mere artifice. You knew that modest resignation would make Sir John warmer in your interest. Dr Cant. No, indeed, indeed. I had other motives, which you may hereafter be made acquainted with, and will convince you— Lady Lamb. Well, sir, now I'll give you reason to guess the reason why, at our last meeting, I pressed you so warmly to resign Charlotte. Dr Cant. Ah dear! "ah dear! Lady Lamb. You cannot blame me for having opposed your happiness, when my own, perhaps, depended upon it. Dr Cant. Spare me, spare me: you kill me with this kindness. Lady Lamb. But, now that I have discovered my weakness, be secret; for the least imprudence Dr Cant. It is a vain fear. Lady Lamb. Call it not vain: my reputation is dearer to me than life. Dr Cant. Where can it find so sure a guard? the grave austerities of my life will dumb-found suspicion, and yours may defy detraction. Lady Lamb. Well, doctor, 'tis you must answer for my folly. Dr Cant. I take it all upon myself. Heaven, 'tis true, forbids certain gratifications; but there are ways of reconcilement, and laying the fears of a too scrupulous conscience. Lady Lamb. Every way, I perceive, you are determined to get the better of me; but there's one thing still to be afraid of. Dr Cant. Nothing, nothing. Lady Lamb. My husband, Sir John. Dr Cant. Alas, poor man, I will answer for him. Between ourselves, madam, your husband is weak; I can lead him by the nose any where. Enter Sir JOHN LAMBERT. Sir J. Lamb. No, caitiff, I'm to be led no farther. Dr Cant. Ah! woman. Sir J. Lamb. Is this your sanctity, this your doctrine, these your meditations? Dr Cant. Is then my brother in a conspiracy against me? Sir J. Lamb. Your brother! I have been your friend, indeed, to my shame; your dupe; but your spell has lost its hold: no more canting; it will not serve your turn any longer. Lady Lamb. Now Heaven be praised! Dr Cant. It seems you wanted an excuse to part with me. Sir J, Lamb. Ungrateful wretch!--but why do I reproach you? Had I not been the weakest of mankind, you never could have proved so great a villain. Get out of my sight; leave my house : of all my follies, which is it tells you, that if you stay much longer, I shall not be tempted to wrest you out of the hands of the law, and punish you as you deserve? Dr Cant. Well, but first let me ask you, sir, who it is you menace? Consider your own condition, and where you are. Sir J. Lamb. What would the villain drive at?-leave me-I forgive you-but once more I tell you, seek some other place out of my house! This instant be gone, and see my shameful face no more. Dr Cant. Nay, then, 'tis my duty to exert myself, and let you know that I am master here. Turn you out, sir; this house is mine: and now, sir, at your peril, dare to insult me. Sir J. Lamb. Oh, Heavens! 'tis true; whither shall I fly, to hide me from the world? Lady Lamb. Whither are you going, sir? Sir J. Lamb. I know not-but here, it seems, I am a trespasser-the master of the house has warned me hence-and, since the right is now in him, 'tis just I should resign it. Lady Lamb. You shall not stir. He dares not act with such abandoned insolence. No, sir, possession still is yours. If he pretend a right, let him by open course of law maintain it. Dr Cant. Ha! Here! Seyward! [Exit. Enter Old Lady LAMBERT and MAW-WORM. Sir J. Lamb. Who is this fellow? what do you want, man? Maw. My lady, come up. Old Lady Lamb. How now! Maw. He wants to know who I be. Old Lady Lamb. The gentleman is a friend of mine, son. I was carrying him in a coach to attend a controversy that's to be held this evening. at the Reverend Mr Scruple's, about an affair of simony, and called to take up the doctor. But what strange tales are these I hear below? Sir J. Lamb. The doctor is a villain, madam. I have detected him; detected him in the horri ble design of seducing my wife, Maw, It's unpossible. Sir J. Lamb. What do you say, man? Maw. I say it's unpossible. He has been locked up with my wife for hours together, morning, noon, and night, and I never found her the worse for him. Old Lady Lamb. Ah, son! son! Sir J. Lamb. What is your ladyship going to say now? Old Lady Lamb. The doctor is not in fault. Old Lady Lamb. Oh, he swears! he swears! years in growing good, we become profligate in a moment. If you swear again, I won't stay in the house. Maw. Nor I neither: aren't you ashamed of yourself? have you no commenseration on your soul?-Ah! poor wicked sinner! I pity you. Sir J. Lamb. 'Sdeath! and the devil! Maw. If you swear any more, I'll inform against you. Sir J. Lamb. Why would you bring this idiot, madam? Max. Ah, do despise me, I'm the prouder for it; I likes to be despised. Enter CHARLotte. Charl. Oh, dear papa, I shall faint away; there's murder doing. Sir J. Lamb. Who? where? what is it? Enter CANTWELL, DARNLEY, SEYWARD, and Servants. Darn. Here, bring in this ruffian; this is villany beyond example. Sir J. Lamb. What means this outrage? Seyw. Don't be alarmed, madam- -there is no mischief done: what was intended, the doctor here can best inform you. Sir J. Lamb. Mr Darnley, I am ashamed to see you Maw. So you ought; but this good man is ashamed of nothing. Dr Cant. Alas! my enemies prevail. Sey. In short, gentlemen, the affair is circumstantially this:-The doctor called me out into the pavilion in the garden; appeared in great disorder; told me here was a sudden storm raised, which he was not sufficiently prepared to weather. He said, his dependance was upon me; and, at all events, I must be ready to swear, when he called upon me, I had seen him pay Sir John several large sums of money. He talked confusedly about giving value for an estate; but I boldly refused to perjure myself; and told him, on the contrary, I was satisfied he had fleeced Sir John of several large sums, under pretence of charitable uses, which he secretly converted to his own. This stung him-and he fastened at my throat. Then, indeed, all temper left me; and, disengaging myself from his hold, with a home-blow struck him down. At this, grown desperate, he ran with fury to some pistols that hung above the chimney; but in the instant he reached one, I seized upon his wrist; and as we grappled, the pistol firing to the ceiling, alarmed the family. Old Lady Lamb. This is a lie, young man; I see the devil standing at your elbow. Maw. So do I, with a great big pitchfork pushing him on. Dr Cant. Well, what have you more against me? Darn. More, sir, I hope is needless-but, if Sir John is yet unsatisfied Sir J. Lamb. Oh! I have seen too much. Enter Colonel LAMBERT, Tipstaff, and Attendants. Col. Lamb. Hold, sir! not so fast; you cann't pass. Dr Cant. Who, sir, shall dare to stop me? Tipstuff. Is your name Cantwell, sir? Tipstaff. Then, sir, I have my Lord Chief Justice's warrant against you. Dr Cant. Against me? Tipstaff. Yes, sir, for a cheat and impostor. Sir J. Lamb. Dear son, what is this? Col. Lamb. Only some action of the doctor's, sir, which I have affidavits in my hand here to prove, from more than one creditable witness, and I think it my duty to make the public acquainted with; if he can acquit himself of them, so; if not, he must take the consequence. Dr Cant. Well, but stay; let the accusations against me be what they will, by virtue of this Conveyance I am still master here; and, if I am forced to leave the house myself, I will shut up the doors-nobody shall remain behind. Sir J. Lamb. There! there! indeed be stings me to the heart! for that rash act, reproach and endless shame will haunt me! Charl. No, sir!-be comforted.-Even there, too, his wicked hopes must leave him; for know, the fatal deed, which you intended to sign, is here, even yet unsealed and innocent! Sir J. Lamb. What mean you? Charl. I mean, sir, that this deed by accident falling into this gentleman's hands, his generous concern for our family discovered it to me; and that, in concert, we procured that other to be drawn exactly like it; which, in your impatience to execute, passed unsuspected for the original. Their only difference is, that wherever here you read the doctor's name, there you'll find my brother's. Dr Cant. Come, sir, lead me where you please. Old Lady Lamb. I don't know what to make of all this. Maw. They'll all go to the devil for what they are doing. Come away, my lady, and let us see after the good dear doctor. Ay, do laugh, you'll go to the devil for all that.-Come, my lady, you go first. [Exeunt MAW-WORM, and Old Lady LAMB. Charl. Now, Darnley, I hope I have made atonement for your jealousy. Darn. You've banished it for ever! this was beyond yourself surprising. Col. Lamb. Sister Charl. Come, no set speeches; if I deserve your thanks, return them in friendship to your first preserver. Col Lamb. The business of my life shall be to merit it. Seyw. And mine, to speak my sense of obligations. Sir J. Lamb. Oh, my child! for my deliverance, I can only reward you here. For you, my son, whose filial virtue I have injured, this honest deed shall in every article be ratified.And, for the sake of that hypocritical villain, I declare, that from henceforward I renounce all pious folks; I will have an utter abhorrence for every thing that bears the appearance Churl. Nay, now, my dear sir, I must take the |