Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

wish you would bring the company after us, I have a particular reason for it.

[Exit Boncour and Young Boncour. Sir Geo. (To Sir Gregory.) Come, Sir Gregory, be pacified, you had best try by gentler methods to bring the young gentleman to reason.

Sir Greg. I'll bring him by a good cudgel, that's my reason, odsbodikins, I have sent him a travelling to a fine purpose, truly, to learn to despise his father!

Young Ken. You have hit it at last, my good old gentleman.

Sir Geo. Come, Sir Gregory, we will, if you please, adjourn for a few minutes; you have not seen the house -here are some pictures worth your seeing.

Sir Greg. Why, I like to see pictures well enough, if they are handsome ones.

Young Ken. They may do well enough for you, but I am convinced they must be sad trash to a man that has seen Italy.

SCENE V. Another Apartment.

YOUNG VALENCE and MISS BONCOUR.

[Exeunt.

Young Val. I will outwit my father, I will plunder him of every thing he has, to keep you in affluence equal to your desire.

Miss Bonc. And do you intend literally to make me your mistress?

Young Val. I intend to make you happy, and myself with you; be assured, if love, if wealth, can make you happy, thou shalt be so.

Miss Bonc. No, there is something in that word mistress, which I don't like.

Young Val. A groundless prejudice-cannot we join

ourselves, without the leave or assistance of a priest? are we more capable of transferring raptures to each other's bosoms by a few cant words which he pronounces? Where is the difference then of our being one another's, with marriage or without it?

Miss Bonc. Yes, as to me, it differs a little.
Young Val. How, my dearest creature?

Miss Bonc. I shall be infamous this way, that's all. Young Val. A false opinion of the world, unworthy your regard; our happiness is precarious, indeed, if it is to be blown up and down by the inconstant changeable breath of mankind.

Miss Bonc. It seems strange to me, however, that a man would make the creature he loves infamous. Could I ever have thought I should have brought infamy on myself by that tender passion for you, which I now frankly own? Can you endeavour to make use of the sincerest, honestest, and tenderest affection, to the ruin of her who bears it to you? I need not tell you how willingly I would have sacrificed my all,-how eagerly I would have done, or suffer'd any thing for you; and would you sacrifice my eternal guilt, my spotless fame, my unguarded innocence, to the satisfaction of an appetite which every common prostitute may serve ?

Young Val. Every moment I see you, every word you utter, adds new fuel to my flame.

Miss Bonc. Think of the injury you do me, and the least drop of humanity will cool the hottest passion.

Young Val. Think of the bliss I am to enjoy.

Miss Bonc. And would you enjoy it to my ruin? O consider those tedious miserable hours which I must suffer for the momentary bliss you will possess ! behold me abandoned by my father, deserted by my relations, denied by my acquaintance, shunn'd, slighted, scorn'd by all the world! see me in the horrors of this state,

!

h

and think 'twas you who brought me to it; 'twas you who plunged me into this scene of misery, that creature who would not, to have gain'd the treasures of the world, have done an act to destroy your quiet; consider this and answer me, could you enjoy any happiness at the price of my eternal ruin?

Young Val. O, can you ask it? let us not think beyond the present moment.

Miss Bonc. Hold-thou lowest, meanest, and most abject villain, think not this trial was made to recover your love: O, no! this morning I saw,-I despised the baseness of your heart, and bore your hated presence those few moments but to expose you. Open the door. Young Val. Ha! damnation!

Enter BONCOUR, VALENCE, and the rest.

Val. O, monstrous! Nothing but my own ears could have made me give credit to it: you will outwit your father, Sir; your father will outwit you of every farthing I can tell you; I'll disinherit you this afternoon, and turn you out like a vagabond as you are.

Young Val. Death and despair! I'm ruin'd for ever. [Exit Young Valence. Val. Not one penny, not one single farthing shall he ever have of mine.

Bonc. My daughter, my dear child! as much now the object of my admiration, as this morning of my love.

Miss Bonc. Thou best of men, it shall be the business of my future days to be your comfort only.

Enter SIR GEORGE, SIR GREGORY, and YOUNG kennel.

Sir Greg. You are a civil man, indeed, neighbour, to have one in your own house-What, do you grudge your wine?

Bonc. You'll pardon me, Sir Gregory, I had a little

business; besides, I am not able to drink, and my brother there is your match.

Sir Greg. As to the business, that's a lie, I believe ; and if you can't drink, what a plague are you good for : but come, is this my god-daughter? Here, sirrah, where are you; this is the lady you are to have: come, let one see you fall to making love: let us see a little of the fruits of your travels.

Young Ken. Sir, I am so surpris'd! nor know I whether to thank you or fortune.

Sir Greg. I know you had rather thank any body than your father, you rascal; but this is the lady whom I found out for you, you dog.

Young Ken. And this is the lady for whom alone I refus'd to be obedient, not knowing who your choice

was.

Val. Ha! what's that, what's that?

Miss Bonc. With your leave, I would be excus'd at present, Sir.

Bonc. No, no, my dear, pray stay, do not disoblige Sir Gregory; you may trust me, that I shall not force your inclinations.

Sir Greg. Come, begin, sirrah, begin.

Enter YOUNG BONCOUR.

Young Bonc. Sir, Mr. Recorder, your lawyer, is in the next room, and waits to execute the deed.

Bonc. My heart, my eyes overflow with tenderness, for so much goodness; sure 'tis a sensation almost worthy to be bought with ruin: but, oh! what happiness must be mine, who, while I hear these instances of my children's goodness, can assure them my fortune wants not so dear a reparation. The story was your uncle's invention; the reason for it I will tell you anon: no, my son, though

perhaps I may not much increase, I shall be at least a faithful steward of my wife's fortune to her children. Val. How, Mr. Boncour! is this possible? Bonc. It is true, indeed, neighbour.

Val. Indeed, neighbour, I am very glad of it; and what was this, only a jest of Sir George's?

Bonc. Even so.

Val. I am extremely happy in hearing it, and will if you please make this a memorable æra in the happiness of our children. I speak not of my son, I will abandon him, and give all I am worth to my daughter, and give that daughter to your son.

Young Bonc. You will pardon me, Mr. Valence; but, had I been reduc'd to the lowest degree of distress, I would not have accepted of your daughter with any fortune she could have brought.

Val. How, Sir!

Young Bonc. She will, if she relate to you faithfully her behaviour to me this day, lessen your surprise at what I say.

Val. I will go home, turn my daughter out of doors, disinherit my son, give my estate to build an hospital, and then hang myself up at the next charitable tree I can find.

Sir Geo. Mr. Valence, Mr. Valence! I have spoke to my brother about that estate that lies so contiguous to your's, and when it is to be sold, you shall certainly have the refusal of it.

Val. What, am I mock'd, scoff'd? Ah! zounds! I shall run mad. [Exit Valence. Young Ken. Madam, I have seen a great deal of the world; but all the women I have seen, are no more com-, parable to you, than the smallest chapel in London is to the church of Notre Dame.

Miss Bonc. Ha, ha, ha!

« AnteriorContinuar »