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Sir John. Go, Jenkins, and desire that young gentleman to come back—stay where you are—But what have I done to you, my child? How have I deserv'd that you should treat me like an enemy? Has there been any undesigned rigour in my conduct, or terror in my looks?
Clar. Oh, Sir!
Jenh. Here is Mr. Lionel. 550 Sir John. Come in—When I tell you that I am instructed in all your proceedings, and that I have been ear-witness to your conversation in this place; you will, perhaps, imagine what my thoughts are of you, and the measures which justice prescribes me to follow.
Lion. Sir, I have nothing to say in my own defence; I stand before you, self-convicted, self-condemn'd, and shall submit without murmuring to the sentence of my judge. 560
Sir John. As for you, Clarissa, since your earliest infancy, you have known no parent but me; I have been to you, at once, both father and mother; and, that I might the better fulfill those united duties, tho* left a widower in the prime of my days, I would never enter into a second marriage—I loved you for your likeness to your dear mother; but that mother never deceiv'd me—and there the likeness fails—you have repaid my affection with dissimulation—Clarissa, you should have trusted me. 570
Jen. O iny dear, sweet Lady.
Sir Join. As for you, Mr. Lionel, what terms can I find strong enough to paint the excess of my friendship!—I loved, I esteemed, I honoured your father: he was a brave, a generous, and' a sincere man';' I thought you inherited his good qualities—you were left an orphan, I adopted you, put you upon the footing of my own son; educated you like a gentleman; and designed you for a profession, to w hich I thought your virtues would have been an ornament. Jen. Dear me, dear me. 581 Jenh. Hold your tongue.'''' ■'• . '' '. Sir John. What return you have made me, you seem to be acquainted with yourself; and; therefore, I shall not repeat it—Yet, remember, as an aggravation of your guilt, that the last mark of my bounty was conferr'd upon you rn the very instant, when you were undermining my designs. Now, Sir, I have but one thing more to say to you—Take my daughter'!-Was she worth.a million; she is at your service. "•Lion. To me, Sir!—your daughter—do you give hef to me?—Without fortune—without friends!— without—A5 •' 'i• *'•* 1 ■• '*
Sir John. You have them all in your heart; him whom virtue. raises, fortune cannot abase.''""
Ciar. O, Sir, let me on my ItneeS kiss that dear "hand—acknowledge thy error; and entreat forgiveness .and blessing.
you have distinguish'd." " It is 1 should ask pardon, for I
this little trial of you; for I am happier in the son-inlaw you have given me, than if you had married a prince 603
Lion. My patron—my friend—my father—I would fain say something; but, as your goodness exceeds all bounds
Sir John. I think I hear a coach drive into the court; it is Colonel Oldboy's family; I will go and receive them. Don't make yourself uneasy at this; we must endeavour to pacify them as well as we can. My dear Lionel, if I have made you happy, you have made me so, Heaven bless you, my children, and make you deserving of one another.
Clarissa, Lionel, Jenny. . . Jen. O dear, Madam, upon my knees, I humbly beg your forgiveness—Dear Mr. Lionel, forgive me
—I did not design to discover it, indeed and you
won't turn me ofF, Madam, will you? I'll serve you for nothing.
Clar. Get up, my good Jenny; I freely forgive you if there is any thing to be forgiven. I know you love me ; and, I am sure here is one who will join with me in rewarding your services. 622
Jen. Well, if I did not know, as sure as could be, that some good would happen, by my left eye itching this morning.
Lion. O bliss unexpeBed! my joys overpow'r me!
My love, my Clarissa, what words shall Ifind!
Clar. He bless'd us! O rapture! Lihe one I recover
Whom death haiappal'd, without hope, without aid; 630 A moment depriv'd me of father and lover; A moment restorrs, and my pangs are repaid. Lion. Forsahen, abandoned,
Clar. -Whatfolly! what blindness I
Lion. We fortune accus'd;
Our day was o'ercast: 640
Lady Mary Oldboy, leaning on a Servant, Mr. J Ess Amy leading her; Jenny, and afterwards Sir John Flowerdale, with Colonel Oldboy.
Lady M. 'Tis all in vain, my dear ;—set me down any where; I can't go a step further—I knew, when Mr. Oldboy insisted upon my coming, that I should be seized with a meagrim by the way; and it's well I did not die in the coach.
Mr. Jes. But, pr'ythee, why will you let yourself be affected with such trifles—Nothing more common than for young women of fashion to go off with low fellows.
Lady M. Only feel, my dear, how I tremble! Not a nerve but what is in agitation; and my blood runs cold, cold 1
Mr.. Jes. Well, but, Lady Mary, don't let us expose ourselves to those people; I see there is not one of the rascals about us, that has not a grin upon his countenance.
Lady Af. Expose ourselves, my dear! Your father will be as ridiculous as Hudibras, or Don Quixote.
Mr. Jes. Yes, he will be very ridiculous indeed.
Sir John. I give you my word, my good friend, and neighbour, the joy I feel upon this occasion, is greatly allayed by the disappointment of an alliance with your family; but I have explained to you how things have