# A Series of Plays in which it is attempted to delineate The Stronger Passions of the Mind, Volume Two/The Second Marriage Act 2

ACT II.
SCENE I. Before the front of Seabright's house.
Enter Plausible and Prowler.
Plau. Do you wait for me in that farther walk yonder, till I come from visiting my subject.
Pro. Well, God grant he prove a good subject! we are woundily in want of one at present.
Plau. Don't lose courage, man; there is always a certain quantity of good and of bad luck put into every man's lot, and the more of the one that has past over his head, the more he may expect of the other. Seabright has a fortune to speculate with, and some turn, as I have been told, for speculation: he is just launching into a new course of life, and I have a strong presentiment that I shall succeed with him.
Pro. Now away with your presentiments! for we have never yet had any good luck that has not come pop upon our heads like a snow-ball, from the very opposite point to our expectation: but he has got an unexpected legacy lately; and I have observed that a sum coming in this way, to a man of a certain disposition, very often plays the part of a decoy-bird to draw away from him all the rest of his money: there I rest my hopes.
​ Plau. Why you talk as if I were going to ruin him instead of encreasing his fortune by my advice.
Pro. I have seen ruin follow every man that has been favour'd with your advice, as constantly as the hind legs follow the fore legs of a horse, and therefore I cannot help thinking there must be some connexion between them. However, I don't pretend to reason. Plausible: it might only be some part of their bad luck that happen'd just at those times to be passing over their heads; and they have always, in the mean time, supplied you and your humble follower with money for our immediate wants.
Plau. Well, hold your tongue, do! (knocks at the door, which is opened by Robert.) Is your master at home?
Rob. Yes.
Plau. Can he be spoken with?
Rob. No, Sir, he can't see you at present.
Plau. At what hour can I see him?
Rob. I don't know, Sir.
Plau. Is he so much engaged? But you seem sad, my friend: has any thing happened? You had a funeral in the house some months ago?
Rob. Yes, Sir; but it is a wedding we have got in it at this bout.
Plau. I had the honour of calling on Mr. Seabright yesterday morning, but he was not at home.
​ Rob. Yes, Sir; he has been at the borough of Crockdale to be chair'd, and the parish of Upperton to be married; and he returned last night——
Pro. Bridegroom and Member of Parliament!
Rob. Keep your jokes till they are ask'd for.
Pro. They would be stale jokes indeed, then.
Plau. (to Pro.) Hold your tongue, pray. (to Rob.) He is engaged?
Rob. Yes, Sir; he is with the bride and the company, in the garden, at breakfast.
Plau. Well, I shan't disturb him at present.—Here is a crown for you: you will recollect my face again when you see it? I'll call again very soon.
Pro. (aside.) Mercy upon us! the last crown we have in the world given away on such a chance! It shan't go tho'.
Rob. O yes. Sir, I'll recollect you. (Exit Plausible.)
Pro. (lingering behind.) Don't shut the door yet. Hark you, my good Mr. John, for I know your name very well!
Rob. My name is Robert.
Pro. Yes, Robert I said.
Rob. Did you so, truly! have not I ears in my head?
Pro. Assuredly Sir, and ears, let me tell you, that will hear good news soon, if you will be counsell'd by me.
Rob. Anan?
Pro. Have you never a mind to put out a little money to advantage? a guinea or so, now, in such ​a way as to return to you again with fifteen of twenty of his yellow-coated brethren at his back?
Rob. Poo with your nonsense! I have sent two or three guineas out upon such fools errands already.
Pro. And did they come back empty handed to you?
Rob. No, by my faith! for they never came back at all.
Pro. O lud, lud ! there be such cheats in this world, they frighten honest folks from trying their fortune. I have got a crown of my own, just now, and with another crown put to it by any good hearted fellow that would go halves with me in the profit, I have an opportunity of making a good round sum, at present, in a very honest way, that would almost make a man of me at once: but I m sure I don't advise you to do it; for prudence is a great virtue; prudence is a very great virtue.
(Bell rings, and Robert stands hesitating)
Rob. Hang it! a crown is no great matter after all. There it is (giving him the crown whilst the bell rings again.) How that plaguy bell rings! When you get the money for me, you'll know where to call?
Pro. Never fear! when I get the money for you, I'll find my way back again, I warrant you. (Exeunt. ​
SCENE II. A garden, with a temple seen at some distance, in which are discovered Lady Sarah, Sophia, Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont, and William Beaumont, as if seated after breakfast, whilst Gardener and one or two of the Servants skulk near the front of the stage, behind some hushes, looking at them.
Gar. Bride indeed! she's as unlovely a looking piece of goods as ever I look'd upon. See how she stares at every thing about her, and curls up her nose like a girkin! I'll warrant you she'll be all thro' my kitchen grounds by-and-by, to count over my cabbages.
First Ser. Hold your tonge, man: we're too long here: see, they are all breaking up now, and some of them will be here in a trice. (Exeunt Servants.
(The company come out from the temple, and Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont advance to the front of the stage, talking together earnestly.)
Bea. (continuing to talk.) Nay, my dear, you are prejudiced and severe, it did not strike me that she behaved to you with so much forbidding coldness. She has an ungracious countenance to be sure, but now and then when it relaxes, she looks as if she had some good in her.
Mrs. B. Yes, Charles, you find always some good in every one of God's creatures.
Bea. And there is some good in every one of God's creatures, if you would but look for it.
​ Mrs. B. I'm sure those who can find it out in her have a quicker discernment than I can pretend to. How unlucky it was that we came to the house last night, without enquiring before hand the state of the family! I thought I should have fainted when they told me of the marriage; and when I saw that creature in my sweet sister's place!
Bea. I pitied you, my dear Susan, very much, indeed I did; but it would have look'd pettish and unforgiving in us to have gone away again at that late hour; and I think we must stay with them till to-morrow. For the children's sake we must endeavour to be on good terms with them. But here come William and Sophia.
(Enter William Beaumont and Sophia, talking as they enter.)
Wil. You like the yellow-streak'd carnations best?
Soph. Yes, I think they are the prettiest, tho' we have but very few of them.
Wil. O then I'll make our gardener sow a whole bushel of carnation-seed when I get home,that we may have a good chance, at least, of raising some of the kind you admire. And what else can I do for you, Sophy? Shall I copy some of my friend's verses for you? or send you some landscapes for your drawing-book? or—did not you say you should like to have a rocking-horse for little Tony?
Soph. Indeed you are very good, cousin.
​ Wil. No, no! don't say that: there is no goodness at all in doing any thing for you.
Soph. (going up to Mrs. B. who puts her arm affectionately round her.) My dear aunt!
Wil. Ah, mother! see how tall she has grown since we saw her last, and how dark her hair is now.
Mrs.B. (archly.) You like fair hair best, I believe, William.
Wil. I like fair hair! I can't endure it!
Mrs. B. (smiling.) Well, well, you need not be so vehement in expressing your dislike.
Bea. Here comes Lady Sarah to join us: this at least is civil, you will confess.
Lady S. (coming forward to join them.) You are fond, Ma'am, I perceive, of the shade, from prefering this side of the garden. (formally to Mrs. B. who coldly bows assent.) It is a very pleasant morn for travelling, Mr. Beaumont.
Bea. Yes, Madam, it is a very pleasant morning for travelling.
Lady S. I'm sorry, however, that you will have so much dust on your road to town.
Soph. (to Mrs. B.) Why you don't go to day, aunt? I thought you were to stay longer.
Mrs. B. No, my dear, we go this morning. (looking significantly to Beaumont.)
Lady S. Would not the cool of the evening be more agreeable?
Mrs. B. No, Ma'am, the coolness of this morning has been quite enough to induce us to set out immediately.
Enter Servant.
Ser. (to Lady S.) Some poor people from the village are come to wish your Ladyship health and happiness.
Lady S. (ungraciously.) I am obliged to them.—What do they mean? Ay, ay! tell them I am obliged to them. You need not wait; that is all.
(Exit Ser. whilst Mrs. B. smiles significantly to her husband.)
Soph. I wonder if my old friend, Huskins, be amongst them: I'll run and see. (going to run out.)
Lady S. Perhaps, Miss Seabright, will do me the honour to consult me upon what friendships are proper for her to cultivate.
Mrs. B. (seeing Sophia distressed.) If your Ladyship will permit us, she shall retire with me for a little. (Exeunt Mrs. B. and Sophia.
Wil. (aside to his father, as they are about to follow them.) What an ugly witch it is! must we leave Sophia with her? (Exeunt Beaumont and William B. Lady Sarah looking after them suspiciously.)
Enter Seabright.
Lady S. (turning to him with affected sprightliness.) So you have been upon the watch, I suppose, and will not suffer me to stroll thro' these shady walks alone: I am positively to have no time to myself.
Sea. You don't call me an intruder, I hope?
Lady S. Indeed if you become very troublesome, I don't know what I may call you. He, he, he! (laughing foolishly. Seabright putting his hand up to ​the side of her hat, she pushes it away with pretended coyness.) How can you be so childish! he, he, he!
Sea. (gravely.) Won't you let me pick a caterpillar from your ribband?
Lady S. (looking foolish and disappointed.) O! is that it? I am much obliged to you: but you are always so good, so tenderly attentive to me! Indeed this little hand was well bestow'd upon you, Seabright: I wish it had convey'd to you a better gift when it gave away myself. (thrusting out a great brown hand to him.)
Sea. (raising it to his lips with affected tenderness.) What could it possibly convey, my dear Lady Sarah, more—(stopping short as he is about to kiss it.) Is that a family ring upon your finger?
Lady S. Yes, it was my mother's: why so?
Sea. The arms of the Highcastles' are upon it: Lord Highcastle then is your relation?
Lady S. I am nearly related to him.
Sea. (with his countenance brightening.) I did not know this: by my soul I am glad of it! He is in credit with the minister: you are on good terms with him, I hope.
Lady S. Yes, I have always taken pains to be upon terms with him.
Sea. I dare say you have; I dare say you have: you have so much prudence, and so many good qualities, my dear love! (kissing her hand with great alacrity.)
Lady S. O it is all your blind partiality! (putting her hand tenderly upon his shoulder.) Do you know, ​my dear Mr. Seabright, that coat becomes you very much: I wish you would always wear that colour.
Sea. I'll wear any thing you like, my dear. But, by-the-bye, my constituents at Crockdale, have a manufacture of woollen in the town: I must buy two or three hundred yards of their stuff from them, I believe, lest I should have occasion to be elected again.
Lady S. (taking her hand eagerly off his shoulder.) Two or three hundred yards of stuff from them! Why the cheapest kind they make is eightpence-halfpenny a yard: only consider what that will come to.
Sea. No very great sum!
Lady S. I am surprised to hear you say so! Now I should think if you were to send the mayor and aldermen a haunch of venison now and then when it comes in your way, and the earliest information of any great public events that may occur, it would be a more delicate and pleasing attention.
Sea. Well, well, my dear Lady Sarah, don't let us fall out about it.
Lady S. I am perfectly good humoured, I assure you; but you are so——
Sea. Yonder is your maid coming to speak to you, I'll leave you.
Lady S. Indeed she has nothing to say: I won't suffer her to break in upon our tender conversation.
​ Sea. But I must go to give directions about accommodating Lord Allcrest and his friend. They will be here soon.
Lady S. Nay, there you have no occasion to give yourself any trouble: leave every thing of that kind to me: you are too profuse, and too careless, in every thing.
Sea. I may at least go to the stables and give my groom orders to provide oats for their horses.
Lady S. I have a very good receipt in my receipt book for feeding horses upon the refuse of a garden.
Sea. (shaking his head., and breaking away from her.) No, no! that won't do.(Exit.
Enter Pry with a busy face.
Lady S. What brings you here, Pry? Did not you see Mr. Seabright with me?
Pry. I protest, my Lady, I have been looking at so many things this morning, I can't tell what is before my eyes.
Lady S. You have look'd over every thing then as I desired you: and I hope you have done it as if it were to satisfy your own curiosity.
Pry. To be sure, my Lady; and I might say so with truth too, for nothing does my heart so much good as looking thro' all them there places. And O dear, my Lady! the chests, and the wardrobes, and the larders, and the store-rooms, that I have look'd into! but that cunning fellow, Robert, would not let me into the wine-cellar tho'.
​ Lady S. And you are sure you let them understand it was all to please your own curiosity.
Pry. To be sure; and I was glad I could speak the truth too, for I never does tell a lie but when I cannot get a turn served without it. I remember, my Lady, you told me long ago that this was the best rule; and I have always held you up, my Lady, for an ensample. Lord have mercy upon their souls that will tell you over a pack of lies for no other purpose but to make people laugh! And there is all your writers of books too, full of stories from one end to the other, what will become of them, poor sinners?
Lady S. Never trouble your head about them: what have you seen?
Pry. O dear me! the sheets and the table linen, and the pickles, and the sweetmeats, and the hams, and the bacon that I have seen?
Lady S. Indeed, Pry!
Pry. But do you know, my Lady, there is a curious place in the house.
Lady S. What is it, pray?
Pry. A closet where they keep cordials for poor people.
Lady S. (sourly.) Humph.
Pry. It was kept for that purpose by the late Mrs. Seabright, and this young lady, I am told, is as fond of it as her mother was.
Lady S. Humph—every body has some maggot or other.
​ Pry. Certainly, my Lady, but this is a very strange one tho'. For you must know, my Lady, I thought no harm just to taste one of the bottles myself, thinking it might be some pennyroyal-water or blackberiy-wine, or such things as charitable ladies give away; but I protest it is as good liquor as any gentlewoman would chuse to keep for her own use.
Lady S. I believe it has run in your head, Pry?
Pry. No, no, my Lady; whatever I may do by myself when I have a pain in my stomach, or such like, for nobody can help afflictions when it pleases heaven to send them, I never takes more than is creditable before people.—And, O my Lady! the pans of milk, and the butter, that I have seen in the dairy! And I assure you, my Lady, the servants make good use of it: they make spare of nothing: the very kitchen maids have cream to their tea.
Lady S. Well, well; we shall see how long this rioting will last.
Pry. And I have been in the garden and the orchard too—But stop! I hear a noise in the bushes.
Lady S. (looking round alarmed.) Why did you talk so loud, you gossiping fool? Come with me into the house. (Exeunt Lady Sarah and Pry, looking round alarmed.)
Enter Gardener, creeping from amongst the bushes, and shaking his fist and making faces after them.
Gar. I have been in the garden and the orchard too! hang'd jade! we shall see who comes off winner at last.(Exit.
SCENE III. Enter Seabright followed by Robert.
Sea. (speaking as he enters.) And he'll call again, you say? his name is Plausible.
Rob. Yes, Sir; he is a very grave sensible looking man.
Sea. And has nobody else call'd?
Rob. No, Sir.
Sea. No letters for me?
Rob. No, Sir.
Sea. Nobody applying for franks?
Rob. No, Sir.
Sea. (aside.) Stupid dolts! (aloud.) So much the better. Be in the way when I call for you. (Exit Robert.) Well, this is strange enough: no body soliciting; no body coming to pay their court to me; no body asking me even for a frank: it is very strange! (after musing some time.) Hah! but there is a bad spirit in men, which makes them always unwilling at first to acknowledge the superiority of him who has been more nearly on a level with themselves. It is only when they see him firmly establish'd, and advancing in the path of honours, that they are forced to respect him. (after walking across ​the stage proudly.) And they shall see me advance. I am not a man to stop short at such beginnings as these, after the high connexions I have made: I feel that I am born for advancing. The embarrassment of public affairs at present, offers my activity a fair field for exertion. (A great noise and clamour heard without.) What is that? Who waits there?
Enter Robert.
What a cursed clamour and noise is this I hear?
Rob. Only my Lady, Sir, who has been all over the house with Mrs. Pry, and laying down some prudent regulations for the family.
Sea. And what have the servants to say to that?
Rob. A pretty deal, Sir: they are no wise mealy mouthed about the matter; and they're all coming to your honour with it in a body. (The noise without still coming nearer.)
Sea. Don't let the angry fools come to me; I'll have nothing to do with it. Go tell them so.
Rob. Very well, Sir; I'll be sure to tell them, he, he, he!
Sea. What, sirrah! is it a joke for you?
Rob. I didn't laugh, Sir.
Sea. (very angry.) But you did, you damn'd fool!
(Voices without.) I'll tell his honour of it, that I will. His honour is a good master, and has always kept his house like a gentleman.
Sea. Did not I tell you not to let those angry ideots come to me. (Exit by the opposite side from the noise, in great haste, whilst Robert pushes ​back the crowd of servants, who are seen pressing in at the door.)
Rob. Get along all of you! his honour won't be disturb'd. (Exeunt; a great clamour heard as they retire.)
SCENE IV. Lady Sarah's dressing-room. Enter Lady Sarah, followed by Sophia, carrying a work-basket in her hand, which she sets upon a work-table and sits down to work.
Lady S. (sitting down by her.) Now I hope, Miss Seabright, I may flatter myself with having more of your company this morning than you generally favour me with. If Lord Allcrest does not come at an early hour, we shall have time for a good deal of work. When a young lady is industrious, and is not always reading nonsensical books, or running up and down after children, or watering two or three foolish flower-pots on her window, she can do a great many things for herself, that enable her to appear better dress'd than girls who are more expensive. (pausing.) You don't answer me.
Soph. Indeed, Ma'am, I had better not, for I don't know what to say.
Lady S. You are a very prudent young lady, indeed, to make that a reason for holding your tongue.
Soph. It is a reason, indeed, which elder ladies do not always attend to.
​ Lady S. What gown is that you have put on today? It makes you look like a child from the nursery.—Mr. Supplecoat is to accompany Lord Allcrest, who is a very promising young man, of good expectations, and I could have wish'd you had dress'd to more advantage. There is a young friend of mine, scarcely a year older than yourself, who is just going to be married to one of the best matches in the country; and it is of great importance to have a daughter of a large family well and early settled in life.
Soph. (looking very much surprized.) O how different! My poor mother used to say, that young women ought not to be married too early, but wait till they had sense to conduct themselves at the head of a family.
Lady S. Some of them would wait till they were pretty well wrinkled then.
Soph. It must be confessed that some, who do wait till they are pretty well wrinkled, are fain at last to marry without it. (Voices heard without.)
Lady S. (rising quickly.) It is my brother's voice: he is come early.
Enter Seabright, Lord Allcrest, and Sir Crafty Supplecoat.
Lord A. I am happy to see you look so well, sister.
​ Sir C. Lady Sarah looks as a bride ought to look, fair and chearful.
Lady S. And Mr. Supplecoat talks as a courtier ought to talk, I need not say how.
Lord A. I beg pardon! let me have the pleasure of introducing Sir Crafty Supplecoat to your Ladyship.
Lady S. Every new honour that Sir Crafty acquires must give me pleasure. And permit me tointroduce to your Lordship, Mr. Seabright's—I mean my daughter, who has many good qualities to make her worthy of your esteem. (presenting Sophia to Lord All. and then to Sir Crafty, who afterwards modestly shrinks back, behind Lady S.)
Sea. (aside to Lady S. pulling her by the sleeve.) What, is he made a baronet?
Lady S. (aside.) Yes.
Sea. (aside.) A baronet, not a knight?
Lady S. (aside) No, no! a baronet, certainly.
Sea. (aloud) Permit me again to say how happy I am to see your Lordship in this house: I hope you and Sir Crafty will not run away from us so soon as your letter gave us reason to fear.
Lord A. You are very obliging, my good Sir; but my time, as you may suppose, is of some little importance at present, and not altogether at my own command.
Sir C. His Lordship's time has been so long devoted to the public, that he begins to believe it has a right to it.
​Lord A. (affecting humility.) Why, I have been placed, without any merit of my own, in a situation which gives my country some claims upon me: ever since the time of Gilbert, third Earl of Allcrest, the chiefs of my family have pursued one uniform line of public conduct.
Sir C. For which they have been rewarded with one uniform stream of ministerial approbation.—Changes of men and of measures have never been able to interrupt the happy and mutual uniformity.
Lord A. I believe, indeed, without the imputation of vanity, I may boast of it. The imputation of pride I am not so anxious to avoid; it more naturally attaches itself to that dignified stability; that high integri—I mean that public virt——I should say—(mumbling indistinctly to himself) which my family has been conspicuous for.
Sir C. Pride is a fault that great men blush not to own—it is the enobled offspring of self-love; tho', it must be confess'd, grave and pompous vanity, like a fat plebeian in a robe of office, does very often assume its name.
Lord A. Ha, ha, Sir Crafty! you have a pleasant imagination: one can see that you sometimes read books.
Sir C. I would rather follow your example, my Lord, in the more agreeable study of men. No; I very seldom take a book in my hand, unless it be patronised by some great name, or have the honour, as has been the case with one of our best works lately, to be dedicated to your Lordship.
​ Lord A. I am obliged to you, Supplecoat; I am sure I am very happy if a name of so little importance as mine can be of any use to the learned world. We all owe learning a great deal.
Sir C. I am sure the patronage of your Lordship's name is a full recompense to learning for all the obligations you owe her.
Lord A. (bowing graciously, and then turning to Seabright, as if modestly to interrupt the stream of his own praise.) Mr. Seabright, I must have a conversation with you in your library, when you can bestow as much leisure upon me. Most of our elections are already decided, and the ensuing parliament bids fair to be as united and as meritorious as its predecessor. In those places where I have the honour to possess some little influence, the constitution, the government, or ministry—that is to say the same thing, you know, will find hearty and zealous supporters: I think I may depend at least on the member for Crockdale.(bowing.)
Sea. I hope I shall always be found to merit the friendship and alliance I have the honour of bearing to your Lordship,
Lord A. (drawing back coldly.) Friendship is always the strongest tye, Mr. Seabright: indeed the only one that is now held in any consideration, or indeed ever mention'd.
Sea. (mortified and drawing back also.) I am ready to attend you, my Lord, whenever you please: I shall have the honour of shewing you the way to my library.
​ Lord A. I am infinitely obliged to you. Will you go with us too, Sir Crafty? You have a list of the voters for Underwall in your pocket. The ladies will excuse us. (Exeunt Lord All. Sir Crafty, and Sea. who goes out with them and re-enters almost immediately.)
Sea. (to Lady S.) His Lordship sent me back to borrow your spectacles.
Lady S. Spectacles! I use no such thing.
Sea. He says you do.
Lady S. O yes, there is a particular kind which I sometimes look thro' to examine any thing very minutely.
(After receiving the spectacles and going to the door, he suddenly stops and turns back.)
Sea. But is it your brother's interest that has made Supplecoat a baronet?
Lady S. I dare say it is.
Sea. Yes, yes! I make no doubt of it. (Exit, hurrying away.)
Lady S. (to Soph, angrily.) What made you, child, skulk behind backs so, like a simpleton?—You can be fluent enough when there is no occasion for it, and when you ought to speak you have not a word to say for yourself. This is true nursery breeding.
Soph. Indeed, Madam, you may thank yourself for it; for after what you said to me, before they arrived, about Sir Crafty Supplecoat and marrying, I could not bear to look at him; and every time he look'd at me, I felt strange and mortified, just ​as if I had been set there to be look'd at. He is the most disagreeable man I ever saw in my life.
Lady S. Don't be uneasy; you have little chance, I'm afraid, of being molested by him. But I forget, I must write to my friend, Mrs. Cudimore; her husband is in credit now, and I have been too negligent a correspondent.(Exit.
Soph. (sighing deeply.) O dear! O dear! O dear me! she sleeps quietly under the green sod that I would right gladly lie down beside. (Exit sorrowfully.
SCENE V. A small room with Sophia's books and music, and flower-pots, set in order. Enter Sophia very sorrowful, leaning upon nurse.
Soph. O my dear nurse! you are our best friend, and so she is going to send you away from us.—What will become of the poor children now! What will become of us all by-and-bye! And my father too: even my father. Oh how it grieved me to see him courting that proud Lord, who seems ashamed to consider him as his brother-in-law! To see even my father look'd down upon—it goes to my heart.
Nurse. Let him take what he gets, an' a murrain to him! he had no business to bring her here to torment us all, after the dear lady we have lost.—But dry up your tears: we'll be revenged upon her: there is not a creature in the house that has not swore it; we'll be revenged upon her.
​ Soph. What do you mean, nurse?
Nurse. I must not tell you, my dear young lady; it is not proper that you should know any thing of it: but all the servants are joined in a plot, and they'll damp her courage, I warrant ye; they'll scare her finely.
Soph. (skipping and clapping her hands.) O I shall be so glad to have her well scared! And I wish they would steal that nasty dog of her's, for she is kind to no living creature but it.
Nurse. Nay, to give the devil his due, I believe she is growing fond of little Tony?
Soph. Little Tony?
Nurse. Yes indeed. It is strange enough, but the other day as she pass'd thro' the hall, we were all looking sourly enough upon her no doubt, when, what possess'd the child I don't know, but he held out his arms to her and smiled.
Soph. Nasty little toad! to hold out his arms to her!
Nurse. And, would you believe it, she took him in her arms, kiss'd him very kindly, and has taken to him wonderfully ever since.
Soph. And do you think she really loves him?
Nurse. Upon my honest word I do.
Soph. O then, don't let them do any harm to her! don't let them take any revenge upon her! if she love Tony, I would not have her hurt.
Nurse. O but she loves none of the rest; she is as hard as a millstone to the other two. O la! here comes that fine Sir Crafty, as they call him: I ​wonder what can bring him here: can he be coming after you, Miss Sophy? (with a significant smile.)
Soph. Now don't say so, nurse, for you know I can't bear it.
(Enter Sir Crafty advancing to Sophia with a very courteous smiling face, whilst she shrinks back and keeps close to nurse.)
Soph. (aside.) O don't go, nurse!
Sir C. Lady Sarah has had the goodness, Miss Seabright, to send to you a very willing messenger, who is happy to find any pretence in the world to present himself before you.
Nurse. (aside to Sofia.) It is just as I said. (aloud to Sir C.) Meaning yourself, Sir?
Sir C. Yes; well guess'd, nurse! you are cunning enough I see: you have the true sagacity about you that becomes your occupation; and I doubt not that your young lady has profited by your very instructive society. Now that you have found out the messenger, perhaps she may guess what his errand is. (with an affected leer.)
Nurse. (aside to Sophia, who shrinks back still more.) Ay, it is very like courting I assure you.
Sir C. (advancing as she recedes.) Will not Miss Seabright do me the honour to bestow one thought upon it? I cannot doubt of her ability to guess my errand, if she will have the condescension.
Nurse. (aside to Soph.) Yes, yes! it is the very thing; I have heard many a courtship begin after this fashion.
​ Soph. (to Sir C. very much embarrassed and frightened.) I—I—I'm sure I don't know.
Sir C. (still advancing towards her as she recedes, with a more intolerable leer on his face.) Nay, do have the goodness to give me this proof of the skill you have acquired in this refined academy of improvement, and tell me on what errand I am come.
Soph. (becoming angry.) I'm sure I don't know, unless it be to make a fool of me, and I don't think I need to stay any longer for that purpose. (runs out.)
Nurse. (running after her.) Don't run, Miss Sophy! he is a good looking gentleman, and very civil spoken too. (Exit.
Sir C. (looking after them.) Ha, ha, ha!
(Enter Sharp at the side by which they have gone out.)
Sharp. You are merry, Sir: I believe I can guess what amuses you.
Sir C. I dare say thou canst, Sharp; it is easy enough to see what they have got into their foolish heads. Ha, ha, ha! does the political Lady Sarah think to put off her troublesome nursery girl upon Crafty Supplecoat. But let me encourage the mistake for a little, it will strengthen my interest with Lord Allcrest, which at present is necessary to me. Thou understand'st me, Sharp.
Sharp. Yes, yes, Sir; and you will have little trouble in keeping it up, for the servants, thanks to Mrs. Pry's gossiping, who is in her lady's secrets, have got it so strongly into their heads, that if you but pick up the young lady's glove when she ​drops it, they think you are putting a ring on her finger.
Sir C. I thank thee Sharp; and if thou cans't at any time pick up, in thine own way, any information that may be useful to me, thou shalt not go without thy reward. And how does the young lady like her step-mother's scheme? hast thou heard them talk about that?
Sharp. Nay, they say she dislikes it very much, and is deucedly shy about it.
Sir C. (smiling conceitedly.) Poo, poo, poo! She must be allowed to have her little management as well as older people; deceit is inherent in the human mind. I came here at Lady Sarah's desire to request that she would bring her music book into the drawing room, and play to us; and she took it into her head——but what brought you here to seek me? Is the horse-dealer come to look at my ponies?
Sharp. Yes, Sir.
(Enter Robert in a great rage.)
Rob. Ay! what damn'd tricks are you thinking of? I have overheard, at the door here, all that you and your vile master have been saying. My young lady to be made fool of for his conveniency, indeed! She's a match for a better man than him any day in the year; there is not a lord of the land too ​good for her. But I'll be revenged upon him, vile serpent that he is! I'll be revenged upon him!
Sharp. Well, don't be so loud, my good Robert, and you will perhaps be satisfied. He has twice promised to get me a place or to raise my wages for me, and if he break his word with me a third time,—I know what. Come man, let us go and have a glass together. (Exeunt.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.