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IOLA.

I am thy daughter. Pray you, let me weep.
I'm glad you ’re come! I cannot speak just now;
I am so happy—so very happy !-(Weeps.)

GRIMES.

Weep on, my child—weep on; for sighs and tears
Are sorrow's consolation—therefore, weep on!

IOLA.

Oh! then dam up the outlet to these tears ;
Choke up their floodgates; check their overflow;
That this sad heart might burst, with one wild bound,
And end my desolation.

GRIMES.
Better it break for love, than die from want !

IOLA.
What dost thou say?

GRIMES.
Marry a beggar! That were light indeed
To wedding a rank villain.

IOLA.
I knew thou wouldst say so. Oh, my father!
I shall not wed Sir William Stanton.

GRIMES.

No—the trickster Lester. What villany
Could surpass that foul-faced crime
Of so deceiving thee in woman's garb ?
Sir William Stanton is my oldest friend;
And, as my firm resolve was he should wed
My little girl, I gave him liberty to use his will.

IOLA.

Oh! I faint.--(Faints in Grimes's arms.)

GRIMES.

Go fetch some wine : my daughter's in a swoon.

(Exit Annette.)

F

( As Grimes is placing Iola on the sofa, Annette enters

with wine.) pray you take my place. I will retire awhile.

(Retires to window.)

I

IOLA.

Oh! give me air—where am I?

ANNETTE.

With those who love you.

IOLA.

Where is my father?

GRIMES.

Here, my child !

IOLA (clinging to Annettej. Annette, save me, save me, pray !

ANNETTE.

Dear lady, drink this wine.

IOLA.

Oh, give me poison !
For I had rather fold my arms in death
Than wed Sir William Stanton !

GRIMES (very passionately).
Rash girl! must force be used ? Nay ; look not thus !
Thine eyes of fire, thy wild and haughty looks,
Thy brow, on which rebellion holds its throne,
Must all be tamed! Go, do my bidding !
My will to thee must ever be a law
Till Stanton House shall hold proud Stanton's dame !

(Exit R.)

IOLA.

Then fly, affection ! duty ! homage! All
Which child owes parent do I cast away !
This way, Annette : you --see—I’m merry-now!

(Exit R. U. E.)

ANNETTE.

Poor lady-yet will I try to save thee !

Exit R. U. E.)

Wine on

SCENE IV.-A hall in the Royal Oak. Servants pass and repass.

an occasional table.

Sir William and Grimes come forward through door in

R. flat.

SIR WILLIAM.
I do repent me doing of this deed !

GRIMES (furiously).
Die like a dog a halter for thy neck !
For if thou durst not live with fellow man
An honourable life, and lack'st the courage
To obtain the means which shall uplift thee
High o'er clouds of scorn, thou ’dst better die a beast
And feed the crows !

SIR WILLIAM.
It is so heartless—so unnatural !
My conscience stamps me villain !

GRIMES. 'Tis pity that thy conscience rears its head After the many years it has seemed dead, And in the easiest path of all thy sin ! Remember, then, the young hearts you've destroyedThe noble youth, the portly citizen, The green apprentice, and the blushing dames:Homes—homes made desolate by thy crafty hand, Which sharpers educated, and which sharpers crushed ! And talkest to me of conscience! Go, pay thy honourable debts—from empty purse ! Restore your victims to once happy homes ! Heal up the wounds you've made in parents' hearts ! And then then talk of conscience !

SIR WILLIAM. Most cruel mocker !

(Enter Annette, led on by the Landlady.

She is dressed as lola.)

GRIMES.

Why, this is well. Pray lead her to the door. (Pass.)
But stay ;-I brought a chain of gold from Town,
Sir William, put it round her neck. (Gives chain.)

SIR WILLIAM (lifting the veil, discovers Annette).
Ha !

GRIMES.

What witchcraft's here? What lying baggage is 't
Who thus has tricked us ?

ANNETTE.

She's lost, she's lost again!

GRIMES.

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I have no words to waste upon a fool. (Exit in haste.)

SIR WILLIAM (laying hold on Annette.)
Mistress, stay thou here !
Thy pretty plot has failed.

ANNETTE.
Mock on, mock on thy scoffs are idle air!
What I have done I'd do again to save
That wretched lady from your cruel hands!

(A scream heard.) Ha, they have her !—unhand me, sir !

(Enter Grimes, bearing Iola, fainting in his

He advances to centre, and gives her to Sir William Stanton.

arms.

GRIMES.

Sir William Stanton, she is now your own!

(Sir William supports Iola. Grimes looks

on in triumph. Annette faints, and
is supported by Landlady. Picture
formed. Mournful music.)

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