[Exit Eleanor.
Enter Bluntly
BLUNTLY
Did you call or no, sir?
SIR GEORGE
Yes, sir, I did call now. (In a threateningaccent.) Don't you think you have behaved very well this morning?
BLUNTLY
Yes, sir, I think I have.
SIR GEORGE
I am not joking.
BLUNTLY
Nor am I, sir.
SIR GEORGE
And do not you think I should behave very well, if I was to discharge you my service?
BLUNTLY
As well as can be expected, sir.
SIR GEORGE
Why did you break in upon me just now? Did you think I was going to murder the girl?
BLUNTLY
No, sir, I suspected neither love nor murder.
SIR GEORGE
What then did you suspect?
BLUNTLY
Why, sir, if I may make bold to speak – I was afraid the poor girl might be robbed: and of all she is worth in the world.
SIR GEORGE
Blockhead! I suppose you mean her virtue?
[Smiling with contempt.
BLUNTLY
Why, to say the truth, sir, virtue is a currency that grows scarce in the world now-a-days – and some men are so much in need of it, that they think nothing of stopping a harmless female passenger in her road through life, and plundering her of it without remorse, though its loss, embitters every hour she must afterwards pass in her journey.
Enter Henry
HENRY
Sir George, my father, liberated from prison by your bounty, is come gratefully to offer —
Enter Willford and Eleanor
ELEANOR
[Holding her father by the hand, to prevent hisgoing forward.
Oh, my father! whither are you going? Turn back – turn back.
HENRY
[To his father.
This is your benefactor – the man whose benevolence has put an end to your sufferings.
[Eleanor bursts into tears and retires up the stage.
WILLFORD
How, sir, can I ever repay what I owe to you? – or how describe those emotions, which your goodness at this moment makes me feel?
SIR GEORGE
[In confusion.
Very well – very well – 'tis all very well. (Aside) I wish it was. – (To him) I am glad I have been of service to you.
WILLFORD
You have been like mercy to us all. My daughter's gratitude overflows in tears. – But why, my child, do you keep apart from us? Can you be too timid to confess your obligation?
SIR GEORGE
Let her alone – let her indulge her humour.
WILLFORD
Speak, Eleanor.
SIR GEORGE
No, I had rather she would be silent.
WILLFORD
You offend me by this obstinacy.
ELEANOR
[Going to Willford and taking his hand.
Oh, my father! – Oh! I cannot – I cannot speak.
WILLFORD
Wherefore? – Explain this moment, what agitates you thus.
ELEANOR
You must return to confinement again.
WILLFORD
How?
ELEANOR
The money that has set you free, was given for the basest purposes – and by a man as far beneath you in principle, as you are beneath him in fortune. Disdain the obligation – and come my father, return to prison.
WILLFORD
Yes. – And with more joy than I left it. (To Sir George) Joy, in my daughter's virtuous contempt of thee. (To his children) Leave the house instantly.
[Exit Henry and Eleanor.
WILLFORD
[Addressing himself to Sir George.
Your present is but deposited in a lawyer's hands, whose word gained me my liberty —
he shall immediately return it to you, while I return to imprisonment.
SIR GEORGE
If the money is in a lawyer's hands, my good friend, it may be some time before you get it returned.
[Going.
WILLFORD
Stay, Sir George – (he returns) And look me in the face while you insult me. (Sir George looks on the floor.) You cannot. – I therefore triumph, while you stand before me abashed like a culprit. – Yet be assured, unthinking, dissipated man, that with all your insolence and cruelty towards me and mine, I have still the charity to rejoice, even for your sake, at seeing you thus confounded. This shame is at least one trait in your favour; and while it revenges my wrongs, gives me joy to find, you are not a hardened libertine.
[Exeunt.
END OF THE SECOND ACT
ACT III
SCENE I. The apartment at Sir GeorgeSplendorville's, where the night hasbeen passed at play – Several card-tableswith company playing– Sir George and Lady Caroline at the same table. SirGeorge rises furiously
SIR GEORGE
Never was the whole train of misfortunes so united to undo a man, as this night to ruin me. The most obstinate round of ill luck —
MR. LUCRE
[Waking from a sleep.
What is all that? You have lost a great deal of money, I suppose?
SIR GEORGE
Every guinea I had about me, and fifteen thousand besides, for which I have given my word.
MR. LUCRE
Fifteen thousand guineas! and I have not won one of them. – Oh, confusion upon every thing that has prevented me.
SIR GEORGE
[Taking Lady Caroline aside.
Lady Caroline, you are the sole person who has profited by my loss. – Prove to me that your design was not to ruin me; to sink me into the abyss of misfortune, – prove to me, you love me in return for all my tender love to you. And (taking up the cards) give me my revenge in one single cut.
LADY CAROLINE
If this is the proof you require, I consent.
SIR GEORGE
Thank you. – And it is for double or quit. – Thank you.
[She shuffles and cuts.
SIR GEORGE
Ay, it will be mine – thank you. – I shall be the winner – thank you. (He cuts – then tears thecards and throws them on the floor.) Destraction! – Furies of the blackest kind conspire against me, and all their serpents are in my heart. – Cruel, yet beloved woman! Could you thus abuse and take advantage of the madness of my situation?
LADY CAROLINE
Your misfortunes, my dear Sir George – make you blind.
SIR GEORGE
[Taking her again aside.
No, they have rather opened my eyes, and have shown me what you are. – Still an object I adore; but I now perceive you are one to my ruin devoted. – If any other intention had directed you, would you have thus decoyed me to my folly? – You know my proneness to play, your own likelihood of success, and have palpably allured me to my destruction. Ungrateful woman, you never loved me, but taught me to believe so, in order to partake of my prodigality. – Do not be suspicious, madam; the debt shall be discharged within a week.
LADY CAROLINE
[With the utmost indifference.
That will do, sir – I depend upon your word; and that will do.
[Exit curtsying.
SIR GEORGE
Ungrateful – cruel – she is gone without giving me one hope. – She even insults – despises me.
MR. LUCRE
[Coming forward.
Indeed, my dear friend, I compassionate your ill luck most feelingly; and yet I am nearly as great an object of compassion on this occasion as yourself; for I have not won a single guinea of all your losses: if I had, why I could have borne your misfortune with some sort of patience.
LADY BRIDGET
My dear Sir George, your situation affects me so extremely, I cannot stay a moment longer in your presence. [Goes to the door, and returns.] But you may depend upon my prayers.
[Exit.
LORD HAZARD
Sir George, if I had any consolation to offer, it should be at your service – but you know – you are convinced – I have merely a sufficiency of consolation – that is, of friends and of money to support myself in the rank of life I hold in the world. For without that – without that rank – I sincerely wish you a good morning.
[Exit Lord Hazard.
SIR GEORGE
Good morning.
[The company by degrees all steal out of the room, except Mr. Lucre.
SIR GEORGE
[Looking around.
Where are all my guests? – the greatest part gone without a word in condolence, and the rest torturing me with insulting wishes. Here! behold! here is the sole reliance which I have prepared for the hour of misfortune; and what is it? – words – compliments – desertion – and from those, whose ingratitude makes their neglect still more poignant. [Turns and perceives Mr. Lucre.] Lucre, my dear Lucre, are not you amazed at what you see?
MR. LUCRE
No, not at all – 'tis the way of the world – we caress our acquaintances whilst they are happy and in power, but if they fall into misfortune, we think we do enough if we have the good nature to pity them.
SIR GEORGE
And are you, one of these friends?
MR. LUCRE
I am like the rest of the world. – I was in the number of your flatterers; but at present you have none – for you may already perceive, we are grown sincere.
SIR GEORGE
But have not you a thousand times desired me, in any distress, to prove you?
MR. LUCRE
And you do prove me now, do you not? – Heaven bless you. [Shaking hands with him] I shall always have a regard for you – but for any thing farther – I scorn professions which I do not mean to keep.
[Going.
SIR GEORGE
Nay, but Lucre! consider the anguish in which you leave me! – consider, that to be forsaken by my friends is more affecting than the loss of all my fortune. Though you have nothing else to give me, yet give me your company.
MR. LUCRE
My dear friend I cannot. Reflect that I am under obligations to you – so many indeed that I am ashamed to see you. – I am naturally bashful; and do not be surprised if I should never have the confidence to look you in the face again.
[Exit.
SIR GEORGE
This is the world, such as I have heard it described, but not such as I could ever believe it to be. – But I forgive – I forget all the world except Lady Caroline – her ingratitude fastens to my heart and drives me to despair. She, on whom I have squandered so much – she, whom I loved – and whom I still love, spite of her perfidy!
(Enter Bluntly.)
Well, Bluntly – behold the friendship of the friends I loved! This morning I was in prosperity and had many – this night I am ruined, and I have not one.
BLUNTLY
Ruined, sir?
SIR GEORGE
Totally: and shall be forced to part with every thing I possess to pay the sums I owe. – Of course, I shall part with all my servants – and do you endeavour to find some other place.
BLUNTLY
But first, sir, – permit me to ask a favour of you?
SIR GEORGE
A favour of me? I have no favours now to grant.
BLUNTLY
I beg your pardon, sir – you have one – and I entreat it on my knees.
SIR GEORGE
What would you ask of me?
BLUNTLY
To remain along with you still. – I will never quit you; but serve you for nothing, to the last moment of my life.
SIR GEORGE
I have then one friend left. (Embracing him.) And never will I forget to acknowledge the obligation.
Enter Blackman
BLACKMAN
Pardon me – sir – I beg ten thousand pardons – pray excuse me, (In the most servile manner,) for entering before I sent to know if you were at leisure – but your attendants are all fast asleep on the chairs of your antichamber. – I could not wake a soul – and I imagined you yourself were not yet up.
SIR GEORGE
On the contrary, I have not yet been in bed. And when I do go there, I wish never to rise from it again.
BLACKMAN
Has any thing unexpected happened?
SIR GEORGE
Yes. – That I am ruined – inevitably ruined – Behold (Shewing the cards) the only wreck of my fortune.
BLACKMAN
(Starting.) Lost all your fortune?
SIR GEORGE
All I am worth – and as much more as I am worth.
[Blackman draws a chair, sits down withgreat familiarity, and stares Sir George rudely in the face.
BLACKMAN
Lost all you are worth? He, he, he, he! (Laughs maliciously.) Pretty news, truly! Why then I suppose I have lost great part of what I am worth? all which you are indebted to me? – However there is a way yet to retrieve you. But – please to desire your servant to leave the room.
SIR GEORGE
Bluntly, leave us a moment. (Exit Bluntly.) Well, Mr. Blackman, what is this grand secret?
BLACKMAN
Why, in the state to which you have reduced yourself, there is certainly no one hope for you, but in that portion, that half of your fortune, which the will of your father keeps you out of.
SIR GEORGE
But how am I to obtain it? The lawyer in whose hands it is placed, will not give it up, without being insured from any future demand by some certain proofs.
BLACKMAN
And suppose I should search, and find proofs? Suppose I have them already by me? – But upon this occasion, you must not only rely implicitly on what I say, but it is necessary you should say the same yourself.
SIR GEORGE
If you advance no falsehood, I cannot have any objection.
BLACKMAN
Falsehood! – falsehood! – I apprehend, Sir George, you do not consider, that there is a particular construction put upon words and phrases in the practice of the law, which the rest of the world, out of that study, are not clearly acquainted with. For instance, falsehood with us, is not exactly what it is with other people.
SIR GEORGE
How! Is truth, immutable truth, to be corrupted and confounded by men of the law?
BLACKMAN
I was not speaking of truth – that, we have nothing to do with.
SIR GEORGE
I, must not say so, however, sir. – And in this crisis of my sufferings, it is the only comfort, the only consolatory reflection left me, that truth and I, will never separate.
BLACKMAN
Stick to your truth – but confide in me as usual. – You will go with me, then, to Mr. Manly, your father's lawyer, and corroborate all that I shall say?
SIR GEORGE
Tell me, but what you intend to say?
BLACKMAN
I can't do that. In the practice of the law, we never know what we intend to say – and therefore our blunders, when we make them, are in some measure excusable – and if I should chance to make a blunder or two, I mean any trivial mistake, when we come before this lawyer, you must promise not to interfere, or in any shape contradict me.