Dorn. Very well, Mr. Sulky! Friendship, generosity, a sense of justice! Oh, it's all a farce! Sulky. Humph. [Walks about. Dorn. [Rings.] Very well, sir! Very well! Enter SERVANT, L. [Exit, L. Is the carriage ready? Serv. It's at the door, sir. Dorn. [Going L. turns back.] So, Mr. Sulky, you would see him married to this widow, to whom you have so often as well as now given the worst of characters, rather than incur a little more risk for your friend? Sulky. Marry! Dorn. Yes, marry! Sulky. Whom? Dorn. The Widow Warren, I tell you. Sulky. Harry Dornton ! Dorn. Yes, Harry Dornton! Sulky. When? Where? Dorn. Immediately! With unexampled affection, to save me who am old and worthless, he would devote his youth, his great qualities, and his noble heart, to all the torments which such a marriage and such a woman can inflict! Sulky. Take the money! Dorn. Are you serious, Mr. Sulky? Sulky. Take the money! Away! Begone! I would indeed starve, inchmeal, rather than he should marry her! Dorn. Mr. Sulky, you are a worthy man, a true friend! Sulky. Curse compliments! Make haste! [Exeunt, L. END OF ACT IV. ACT V. SCENE I.-The Widow Warren's. Enter SOPHIA, L. JENNY, R. Jenny. (R. c.) So, miss! Here's your mamma just coming down. Sophia. (L. c. Much agitated.) Is she dressed? Jenny. Oh yes!—I have decorated her out like any king's coach-horse! Sophia. It's very well. Jenny. With her ribands and ringlets stuck about and dangle-ating down her back; and all her Sophia. It's very well. It's all very well. But it will be no wedding. Jenny. [Aside.] I hope not. Sophia. He told her to her face that he loved me, and offered to give her the money back. He'll never have her. And, if he does, I don't care. I know I shall die broken-hearted, but I don't care. I'll tell all to my dear grandma', for I'll not stay in this wicked city. No! He shan't see me pine away. I know my ghost will haunt him; but I can't help it. I never wished him any harm, and had he but been true-hearted and have waited for me, I would-But it's no matter.He shan't see a tear that I shed, nor hear the least sigh that I heave. Enter the WIDOW WARREN, R. Jenny. [Admiring her.] Well, ma'am-I declare you're a pictur Widow. (c.) Do you think I look tolerably, Jenny? [Walking and surveying herself.] Shall I do execution? What is the matter, child? Sophia. Mark my words, he'll never have you. Widow. Poor thing. Sophia. He never will. [Knocking at the street-door, L. Widow. Run, Jenny, see who it is. [Exit JENNY,. L.] Go up to your chamber, child. Sophia. [Much agitated.] No, I will stay here. Widow. Begone to your chamber, I say, miss. Sophia. Beat me, if you please, kill me, but I will not. Re-enter JENNY, L. Jenny. Here's an elderly gentleman, ma'am, asks to speak to you. Widow. Will you begone, miss? Sophia. Since it is not he, I don't want to stay. I only want to look him in the face once more. [Exit, R. Widow. How is he dressed? Jenny. In grey, ma'am. Widow. In grey? Jenny. Yes, ma'am. Widow. In dark grey? Jenny. Yes, ma'am. Widow. [Eagerly.] Does he look like a parson, Jenny ? Jenny. Why, ma'am, he is a soberly, snug, jobation-looking man enough. Widow. Let him be shown in. [Exit JENNY, L.] I dare say it is the divine. Enter JENNY, L. introducing Mr. DORNTON. Dorn. (L.) Your humble servant, madam! Widow. Sir, your very most humble servant. [With great respect. Dorn. (L. c.) I presume you are unacquainted with me? Widow. [R. C. With a simpering air.] I believe I can penetrate, sir Dorn. Can you, madam? Widow. [Holding her fun before her face.] YouYou come on the part of-young Mr. Dornton ? Dorn. [Surprised.] I do. Widow. [Aside.] It is the parson?-Would you be so indulgent as to be seated, sir. Dorn. Excuse me, madam. Widow. Would you be pleased to take any refreshment, sir? Dorn. Madam! Widow. A morsel of seed-cake, a French biscuit, a bit of orange-loaf, a glass of Constantia, or a jelly? I know these little cordial comforts are agreeable consolations to gentlemen of your cloth. Dorn. [Surveying himself.] Cloth! Widow. No offence, I hope I participate in them myself. Dorn. Hem! No doubt. Widow. You are acquainted with Mr. Dornton ? Dorn. Why-Yes-I am, I believe, one of his oldest acquaintance. Widow. Then I dare say you have a great regard for him? Dorn. Hem!-Yes-I-had a-sort of a friendship for him even before he was born. Widow. Sir!-Oh-you are intimate with the family? Dorn. Yes yes, madam! Widow. And know his father? Dorn. Hem-[Shrugs.] Why-Though I have kept him company from the day of his birth to this very hour, they tell me I don't know him yet! Widow. Ay, indeed! Is he so odd? Dorn. Sometimes-To my great regret, I have sometimes found him a very absurd old gentleman! Widow. I am sorry for it!-Because as I am soon to become-hymeneally-his intimate-relation-I—I! [With affected coyness. Dorn. You would wish for a sensible indulgentPapa.[Smiling. [Simpering. Widow. It's natural, sir. Dorn. Ha! I dare not say too much in his fa vour. Widow. Nay, though I have a vast-hum-ha-regard for young Mr. Dornton-I own I have no great predilection of opinion for the father! Dorn. [Acrimoniously.] Nor he for you, madam! Widow. Do you think so? Dorn. I am sure so! Widow. I warrant, sir, he is, as you say, a very precise acrimonious old gentleman! Dorn. I said no such thing, madam! Widow. Ah! A little caution, sir, to be sure, becomes gentlemen of your cloth. Dorn. Cloth again!-I don't know what you mean by my cloth! but Mr. Dornton, madam, is little older than yourself; nor does he think himself half so repugnant. Widow. Sir! Dorn. [Recollecting himself.] Madam!—I beg pardon!-I [Bowing. Widow. [Knocking, L.] Oh! Here I dare say comes the bridegroom! [Enraptured crosses to L. Dorn. [Aside] My curst vivacity! I can never tell her after this who I am. [Relires up the stage. Enter HARRY DORNTON, in haste, L. Widow. [Eagerly meeting him.] Oh you rover! [Crosses to R. Harry. Well, my kind Widow! [Mr Dornton gradually approaches.] My loving, compassionate Widow! (c.) I am come post haste to cast myself once more on your bounty. Widow. (c.) Hush! Harry. To entreat instant commiseration, and aid! Widow. Hem! Hem! Harry. I have not a minute to spare! [Aloud. Widow. (Whispers.) He's here! He's come! A wasptetchy!-Hem!--[Aloud.] Your friend has been here some time, Mr. Dornton ! ish, Harry. My friend! What friend? Widow. Your friend the clergyman. [Pointing to Mr. DORNTON. Harry. Clergyman! [Turns and sees his Father close at his elbow.]-My father! Widow. His father! [A pause. Dorn. (L. c.) Well, Harry, why do you look so blank? I am glad you are here. Your coming, and the mutual sincerity with which this lady and I have just spoken our sentiments, will save all circumlocution.At present we understand each other. Widow. Sir-I Dorn. Oh, madam, never retract. Let us continue the like plain honest dealing Widow. But-sir-Mr. Dornton's affection- Dorn. Harry, I know your motives. Will never forget them. But the cause of them has ceased. Harry. Sir, beware! No false compassion! Remember not the vile reprobate that was your son. I spurn at the existence that is coupled with your misery. Dorn. Harry, our danger is over. |