Kitabı oku: «The Heiress; a comedy, in five acts», sayfa 5

SCENE III

Alscrip's Room of Business.

Alscrip and Rightly.

Rightly. Upon all these matters, Mr. Alscrip, I am authorized by my client, Sir Clement Flint, to agree. There remains nothing but your favouring me with the inspection of the Charlton title-deeds, and your daughter's settlements may be engrossed.

Alscrip. I cannot conceive, my friend Rightly, any such inspection to be requisite. Have not I been in constant quiet possession?

Rightly. Sir Clement insists upon it.

Alscrip. A client insist! and you, an old practitioner, suffer such a demur to your infallibility! – Ah! in my practice I had the sure means of disappointing such dabblers and divers into their own cases.

Rightly. How, pray?

Alscrip. I read his writings to him myself. – I was the best reader in Chancery-lane for setting the understanding at defiance – Drew breath but once in a quarter of an hour, always in the wrong place, and made a single sentence of six skins of parchment – Shall I give you a specimen?

Rightly. [Smiling.] I have no doubt of your talent.

Alscrip. Then return to Sir Clement, and follow my example.

Rightly. No, Mr. Alscrip, though I acknowledge your skill, I do not subscribe to your doctrine. The English law is the finest system of ethics, as well as government, that ever the world produced, and it cannot be too generally understood.

Alscrip. Law understood! Zounds! would you destroy the profession!

Rightly. No, I would raise it. Had every man of sense the knowledge of the theory, to which he is competent; the practice would revert to the purity of its institution, maintain the rights, and not promote the knavery, of mankind.

Alscrip. [Aside.] Plaguy odd maxims. – Sure he means to try me – [To him.] Brother Rightly, we know the world and are alone – I have locked the door.

[In a half whisper.

Rightly. A very useless precaution. I have not a principle nor a proceeding that I would not proclaim at Charing Cross.

Alscrip. [Aside.] No! then I'll pronounce you the most silly, or the most impudent fellow of the fraternity.

Rightly. But where are these writings? You can have no difficulty in laying your hand upon them, for I perceive you keep things in a distinguished regularity.

Alscrip. Yes, I have distinct repositories for all papers, and especially title deeds – Some in drawers – Some in closets – [Aside.] and a few under ground.

Miss Als. [Rattling at the Door.] What makes you lock the door, sir? I must speak to you this instant.

Alscrip. One moment, child, and I'll be ready for you.

[Turning again to Rightly, as to dissuade him.

Rightly. [Coolly.] If the thoughts of the wedding-day make any part of the young lady's impatience, you take a bad way, Mr. Alscrip, to satisfy it; for I tell you plainly our business cannot be completed till I see these writings.

Alscrip. [Aside.] Confound the old hound – how he sticks to his scent!

[Miss Alscrip still at the Door.

Alscrip. I am coming, I tell you. [Opens a Bureau in a confused hurry, shuffles Papers about, puts one into Rightly's Hand.] There, if this whim must be indulged, step into the next room – You, who know the material parts of a parchment lie in a nutshell, will look it over in ten minutes.

[Puts him into another Room.

Miss Als. I won't wait another instant, whatever you are about – Let me in —

Alscrip. [Opening the Door.] Sex and vehemence! What is the matter now?

Enter Miss Alscrip in the most violent emotion

Miss Als. So, sir; yes, sir; you have done finely by me indeed, you are a pattern for fathers – a precious match you had provided!

[Walking about.

Alscrip. What the devil's the matter?

Miss Als. [Running on.] I, that with 50,000 independent pounds, left myself in a father's hands – a thing unheard of, and waited for a husband with unparalleled patience till I was of age —

Alscrip. What the devil's the matter?

Miss Als. [Following him about.] I, that at fourteen might have married a French Marquis, my governess told me he was – for all he was her brother —

Alscrip. 'Gad a mercy, governess —

Miss Als. And as for commoners, had not I the choice of the market? And the handsome Irish Colonel at Bath, that had carried off six heiresses before, for himself and friends, and would have found his way to Gretna-green blindfold!

Alscrip. [Aside.] 'Gad I wish you were there now, with all my heart – What the devil is at the bottom of all this?

Miss Als. Why, Lord Gayville is at the bottom – And your hussy, that you was so sweet upon this rooming, is at the bottom; a treacherous minx! – I sent her only for a little innocent diversion, as my double —

Alscrip. Your what?

Miss Als. Why, my double, to vex him.

Alscrip. Double! this is the most useless attendant you have had yet. – 'Gad I'll start you single handed in the art of vexation against any ten women in England!

Miss Als. I caught them, just as I did you, with your —

Alscrip. Is that all? 'Gad I don't see much in that.

Miss Als. Not much? what, a woman of my fortune and accomplishments turned off – rejected – renounced —

Alscrip. How! renounced? – has he broke the contract? – Will you prove he has broke the contract?

Miss Als. Ay. Now, my dear papa, you take a tone that becomes you; now the blood of the Alscrips rises; – rises as it ought; you mean to fight him directly, don't you?

Alscrip. O yes, I'm his man – I'll show you a lawyer's challenge, sticks and staves, guns, swords, daggers, poinards, knives, scissors and bodkins. I'll put more weapons into a bit of paper, six inches square, than would stock the armory of the Tower.

Miss Als. Pistols! – Don't talk to me of any thing but pistols, – my dear papa, who shall be your second?

Alscrip. I'll have two – John Doe, and Richard Roe – as pretty fellows as any in England to see fair play, and as used to the differences of good company. – They shall greet him with their fieri facias – so don't be cast down, Molly, I'll answer for damages, to indemnify our loss of temper and reputation – he shall have a fi-fa before to-morrow night.

Miss Als. Fiery faces and damages – What does your Westminster-hall gibberish mean? – Are a woman's feelings to be satisfied with a fie-fa – you old insensible – you have no sense of family honour – no tender affections.

Alscrip. 'Gad you have enough for us both, when you want your father to be shot through the head – but stand out of the way, here's a species of family honour more necessary to be taken care of – If we were to go to law, this would be a precious set off against us. [Takes up the Deed, as if to lock it up.] This – why what the devil – I hope I don't see clear – Curse and confusion, I have given the wrong one – Here's fine work – Here's a blunder – Here's the effect of a woman's impetuosity.

Miss Als. Lord, what a fuss you are in: what is in the old trumpery scroll?

Alscrip. Plague and parchment, old Rightly will find what's in it, if I don't interrupt him – Mr. Rightly – Mr. Rightly – Mr. Rightly —

[Going to the Door Rightly went out at.

Enter Servant

Serv. Sir, Mr. Rightly is gone.

Alscrip. Gone! whither?

Serv. Home, I believe, sir – He came out at the door into the hall, and he bade me tell your honour you might depend upon his reading over the deed with particular care.

Alscrip. Fire and fury, my hat and cane – [Exit Servant.] Here, my hat and cane.

[Stamps about.

Miss Als. Sir, I expect before you come home —

Alscrip. Death and devils, expect to be ruined – this comes of listening to you – The sex hold the power of mischief by prescription – Zounds! – Mischief – Mischief – is the common law of womankind.

[Exit in a rage.

Miss Als. Mercy on us – I never saw him more provoked, even when my mother was alive!

[Exit.

ACT THE FOURTH

SCENE I

Alscrip's Room.

Chignon alone.

Chignon. Que diable veut dire tout ça – vat devil, all dis mean? – Monsieur Alscrip enragé – Mademoiselle Alscrip fly about like de dancing fury at de Opera – My littel musicienne, shut up, and in de absence of madame, I keep de key of de littel bastille – By gad, I vou'd rader have de custody of my pretty prisoniere than the whole college of cardinals – but vat have we here?

Enter Sir Clement and Clifford

Sir C. [Speaking to a Servant.] Mr. Alscrip not at home, no matter we'll wait his return – The French valet de chambre [To Clifford.] – It may be of use to make acquaintance with him – Monsieur, how do you like this country?

Chignon. Ver good contrée, sire, by and bye – when you grow a little more poor.

Sir C. Is that a Parisian rule for improvement?

Chignon. Yes, sir, and we help you to follow our example – In good times you hang, and you drown – In bad time you will be like us. – Alway poor – alway gay – forget your politics – laugh at your grievances – take your snuff, vive la dissipation, – ver good country.

Sir C. Thanks for your kind advice, monsieur, you Frenchmen are so obliging, and so communicative to strangers – I hear there is a young lady come into this family – we don't exactly know in what capacity – could not you contrive that she should pass through this room – or —

Chignon. [Aside.] By gar here be one more old rake after de littel musicienne.

Sir C. Only for curiosity, – we never saw her, and have particular reasons —

[Gives Money.

Chignon. Ma foi, your reasons be ver expressive – [Aside.] – but vat devil shall I do – open the cage of my little Rosignol – my pretty nightingale – no. Chignon – no – [Looking out.] ah, hah; La Tiffany – Now for de politique – be-gar I undertake your business – and make you de dupe of de performance.

[Exit with a sign to Sir Clement.

Sir C. So – Clifford – There goes as disinterested a fellow now as any in Europe. But hark you – Can you yet guess the purpose for which I brought you here?

Cliff. I profess, sir, I am in the dark. If it concerns Lord Gayville's secret.

Sir C. Namely, that this dulcinea has started up in the shape of Miss Alscrip's musical companion – Her name is Alton. [Leering.] I tell it you, because I am sure you are not acquainted with it.

Cliff. Sir, you will not know me. —

Sir C. Tut, tut, don't do me such injustice – Come, all delicacy being over, by my having made the discovery, will you talk to this girl?

Cliff. For what end, sir?

Sir C. If you state yourself as Lord Gayville's friend, she will converse with you more readily, than she would with me – Try her – find out what she is really at. If she has no hold upon him but her person, I shall be easy.

Cliff. Sir, let my compliance convince you how much I wish to oblige you. If I can get a sight of this wonder, I promise to give you my faithful opinion of my friend's danger.

Enter Chignon, and makes a sign to Sir Clement, that the Person he inquired after is coming

Sir C. Leave her with this gentleman – Come, monsieur, you shall show me the new room.

[Exit.

Chignon. [Aside.] Vid dis gentleman – Vid all my heart – La Tiffany vill answer his purpose, and mine too.

[Exit.

[Clifford is looking at the Furniture of the Room.

Enter Tiffany

Tiff. What does the Frenchman mean by gentlemen wanting me, and his gibberish of making soft eyes – I hope I know the exercise of my eyes without his instruction – hah! I vow, a clever looking man.

Cliff. 'Faith, a pretty attracting countenance – but for that apprehensive and timid look – that awe impressing modesty, my friend so forcibly described. [Tiffany adjusts herself, and pulls up.] – [Aside.] Her silence marks diffidence; deuce take me if I know how to begin, for fear of offending her reserve.

Tiff. [Aside.] I have been told pertness became me – I'll try, I'm resolved. [To him.] I hear, sir, you had something to say to a young person in this house – that – that – [Looking down at the same time archly.] I could not but take the description to myself – I am ready to hear any thing a gentleman has to say.

Cliff. [Aside.] Thank my stars, my scruples are relieved!

Tiff. Am I mistaken, sir? Pray, whom was you inquiring after?

Cliff. Oh! certainly you, my pretty stranger. A friend of mine has been robbed of his heart, and I see the felony in your looks. Will you confess, or must I arrest you?

Tiff. Innocent, sir, in fact, but not quite so in inclination – I hope your own is safe?

Cliff. And were it not, my smart unconscionable, would you run away with that also?

Tiff. Oh, yes, and a hundred more; and melt them all down together, as the Jews do stolen goods, to prevent their being reclaimed.

Cliff. [Aside.] Astonishing! Have I hit upon the moment when her fancy outruns her art! But are you really the young lady, that's admitted into this family, as companion to Miss Alscrip?

Tiff. Sir, if you mean the young lady, who, however undeservingly, is flatteringly called the flower of this family – who sometimes extracts notice from these windows; and to be sure has been followed home by gentlemen against her inclinations – sir, you are not mistaken.

Cliff. [Aside.] Sure it has been Gayville's madness or amusement then to describe her by contraries.

Tiff. I hope, sir, you are not offended? I would not be impertinent, though I am not so tasteless as to be shy.

Cliff. Offended, my dear? I am quite charmed, I assure you. And so without further shyness on either part, let us be free upon the subject I had to talk over with you. You surely are not looking to lasting connexions?

Tiff. [With airs.] Sir, I don't understand you – I am not what you suppose, I assure you – Connexions indeed – I should never have thought of that – my character – my behaviour; connexions, I don't know what the word signifies.

Sir C. [Without.] Clifford – are you ready?

Cliff. I am at your orders, sir.

Tiff. [Aside.] Deuce take this interruption!

Sir Clement. [Without.] I shall not wait for Mr. Alscrip any longer.

Tiff. [Aside.] Lud, lud, he, gives me no time to come round again. [Runs up to him confusedly.] It's very true, sir, I would not do such a thing for the world, but you are a man of honour, and I am sure would not give bad advice to a poor girl who is but a novice – and so, sir, [Hears Sir Clement entering.] put your proposal in writing, and you may depend on having an answer.

[Runs out.

Enter Sir Clement

Sir C. Well, Clifford, what do you think of her?

Cliff. Make yourself perfectly easy, sir: This girl, when known, can make no impression on Lord Gayville's mind; and I doubt not but a silk-gown and a lottery-ticket, had they been offered as an ultimatum, would have purchased her person.

Sir C. [With a dry sneer.] Don't you sometimes Clifford, form erroneous opinions of people's pretensions? Interest and foolish passion inspire strange notions – as one or the other prevails, we are brought to look so low, or so high —

Cliff. [With emotion.] That we are compelled to call reason and honour to our aid —

Sir C. And then —

Cliff. We lose the intemperance of our inclinations in the sense of what is right.

Sir C. [Aside.] Sententious impostor! – [To him.] But to the point.

Cliff. Sir, I would please you if I could – I am thinking of a scheme to restore Lord Gayville to his senses, without violence or injury to any one of the parties.

Sir C. Let me hear it.

Cliff. Why, the wench being cut short of marketing by word of mouth, desired me to write proposals. I am inclined to do so. We will show the answer to Lord Gayville, and, depend upon it, there will be character enough displayed to cure him of the sentimental part of his attachment.

Sir. C. I like your idea – Sit down, and put it into execution immediately – [Clifford writes.] – [To himself.] He is quick at invention – has a pretty turn at profession – A proud and peremptory show of honour would overpower prejudices. Thank Heaven, my opinions of knavery are convictions!

Cliff. [Writing.] I am sorry to detain you, sir.

Sir C. [Looking at the Furniture.] Oh! I am amusing myself better than you think – Indulging an edifying contemplation among the tombs of departed estates – [Looking round the Furniture, viz. Closets, that show old Writings, tied up; Shelves with Boxes, labelled Mortgages, Lease and Release, &c.] What mouldered skins, that will never see day-light again, and that, with a good herald, would vie with Westminster Abbey in holiday entertainment. For instance, now, what have we here? – Hah! The last remains of Fatland Priory – Once of great monastic importance: A proverb of pride, sloth, and hypocrisy. After the Reformation, the seat of old English hospitality and benevolence – In the present century, altered, adorned, pulled down, and the materials sold by auction.

Cliff. Edifying, indeed, sir; your comments are not lost.

Sir C. Here lie, undisturbed, in dust, the relics of Court Baron Castle, granted, at the Conquest, to the family of Loftimount. The last of this ancient race, having won twenty-seven king's plates, and represented the county in six parliaments, after many struggles, died of the pistol fever. A disconsolate annuitant inscribed this box to his memory. – Well, Clifford, have you done?

Cliff. Yes, sir.

[Reads, as if to himself.

You have captivated a young man of rank and fortune, but you are discovered, and his ruin and yours would be the consequence of pursuing any designs, that could impede his proposed marriage with Miss Alscrip. – Throw yourself upon the generosity of his family, and your fortune's made. – Send your answer (and let it be immediate) to me, at Sir Clement Flint's house.

Yours, &c. &c.

Henry Clifford.

[Clifford folds the Letter.

Sir C. Our French friend is the man to deliver it, and to bring the answer. I am going home; you'll overtake me.

[Exit.

Enter Chignon

Cliff. [Sealing the Letter.] You come apropos, monsieur. [Gives the Letter with an Air of Mystery.] Have the goodness to put this letter into Miss Alton's own hands.

Chignon. [To himself.] Mademoiselle Alton! Peste! My trick has not passed.

Cliff. To Miss Alton by herself – I am in all the secret.

Chignon. [To himself.] Devil take Tiffany, for making you so wise.

Cliff. And you serve your lady, when you serve me with Miss Alton – Monsieur, an answer as quick as possible – You will find me at Sir Clement Flint's – it is only in the next street – and – you understand me – [Shaking his Purse.] – Alerte, monsieur.

[Exit.

Chignon. Understand you! – Oui da! you talk de language universal. [Imitating his shaking the Purse.] J'entre vois, I begin to see something – By gad, I vill give de letter, ami try de inclination of Mademoiselle la Musicienne – if dis be de duette she vill play, it take her out of the vay of Alscrip, of Gayville, and of myself also – Voila le malheur – there – de misfortune – eh bien – when love and interest come across – alway prefer de interest for to-day, and take de chance of de love to-morrow – dat is de humour of France.

[Exit.