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The Heiress; a comedy, in five acts
Miss Alton. Madam, this letter will inform you how little pretension I have to the honours you are offering.
Miss Als. [Reads.] Miss Alton, the bearer of this, is the person I recommended as worthy the honour of attending you as a companion. [Eyes her scornfully.] She is born a gentlewoman; I dare say her talents and good qualities will speak more in her favour, than any words I could use – I am, Madam, your most obedient– um – um – . Blandish, was there ever such a mistake?
Mrs. Blandish. Oh! you dear, giddy, absent creature, what could you be thinking of?
Miss Als. Absent indeed. Chignon, give me the fauteuil; [Throws herself into it.] Young woman, where were you educated?
Miss Alton. Chiefly, madam, with my parents.
Miss Als. But finished, I take it for granted, at a country boarding school; for we have, young ladies, you know Blandish, boarded and educated, upon blue boards, in gold letters, in every village; with a strolling player for a dancing master, and a deserter from Dunkirk, to teach the French grammar.
Mrs. Blandish. How that genius of yours does paint! nothing escapes you – I dare say you have anticipated this young lady's story.
Miss Alton. It is very true, madam, my life can afford nothing to interest the curiosity of you two ladies; it has been too insignificant to merit your concern, and attended with no circumstances to excite your pleasantry.
Miss Als. [Yawning.] I hope, child, it will be attended with such for the future as will add to your own – I cannot bear a mope about me. – I am told you have a talent for music – can you touch that harp – It stands here as a piece of furniture, but I have a notion it is kept in tune, by the man who comes to wind up my clocks.
Miss Alton. Madam, I dare not disobey you. But I have been used to perform before a most partial audience; I am afraid strangers will think my talent too humble to be worthy attention.
SONGFor tenderness framed in life's earliest day,A parent's soft sorrows to mine led the way;The lesson of pity was caught from her eye,And ere words were my own, I spoke in a sigh.The nightingale plunder'd, the mate-widow'd dove,The warbled complaint of the suffering grove,To youth as it ripened gave sentiment new,The object still changing, the sympathy true.Soft embers of passion yet rest in the glow —A warmth of more pain may this breast never know!Or if too indulgent the blessing I claim,Let reason awaken, and govern the flame.Miss Als. I declare not amiss, Blandish: only a little too plaintive – but I dare say she can play a country dance, when the enlivening is required – So, Miss Alton, you are welcome to my protection; and indeed I wish you to stay from this hour. My toilet being nearly finished, I shall have a horrid vacation till dinner.
Miss Alton. Madam, you do me great honour, and I very readily obey you.
Mrs. Blandish. I wish you joy, Miss Alton, of the most enviable situation a young person of elegant talents could be raised to. You and I will vie with each other, to prevent our dear countess ever knowing a melancholy hour. She has but one fault to correct – the giving way to the soft effusions of a too tender heart.
Enter ServantServ. Madam, a letter —
Miss Als. It's big enough for a state packet – Oh! mercy, a petition – for Heaven's sake, Miss Alton, look it over. [Miss Alton reads.] I should as soon read one of Lady Newchapel's methodist sermons – What does it contain?
Miss Alton. Madam, an uncommon series of calamities, which prudence could neither see, nor prevent: the reverse of a whole family from affluence and content to misery and imprisonment; and it adds, that the parties have the honour, remotely, to be allied to you.
Miss Als. Remote relations! ay, they always think one's made of money.
Enter another Servant2 Serv. A messenger, madam, from the animal repository, with the only puppy of the Peruvians, and the refusal at twenty guineas.
Miss Als. Twenty guineas! Were he to ask fifty, I must have him.
Mrs. Blandish. [Offering to run out.] I vow I'll give him the first kiss.
Miss Als. [Stopping her.] I'll swear you shan't.
Miss Alton. Madam, I was just finishing the petition.
Miss Als. It's throwing money away – But give him a crown.
[Exit with Mrs. Blandish striving which shall be first.Miss Alton. "The soft effusions of a too tender heart." The proof is excellent. That the covetous should be deaf to the miserable, I can conceive; but I should not have believed, if I had not seen, that a taste for profusion did not find its first indulgence in benevolence.
[Exit.ACT THE THIRD
SCENE I
Miss Alscrip's Dressing-room.
Miss Alton, discovered.
Miss Alton. Thanks to Mrs. Blandish's inexhaustible talent for encomium, I shall be relieved from one part of a companion that my nature revolts at. But who comes here? It's well if I shall not be exposed to impertinences I was not aware of.
Enter ChignonChignon. [Aside.] Ma foi, la voila – I will lose no time to pay my addresse – Now for de humble maniere, and de unperplex assurance of my contrée [Bowing with a French shrug. —Miss Alton turning over Music Books.] Mademoiselle, est-il permis? may I presume to offer you my profound homage [Miss Alton not taking Notice.] Mademoiselle – if you vill put your head into my hands, I vill give a distinction to your beauty, that shall make you and me de conversation of all de town.
Miss Alton. I request, Mr. Chignon, you will devote your ambition to your own part of the compliment.
Mr. Als. [Without.] Where is my daughter?
Miss Alton. Is that Mr. Alscrip's voice, Mr. Chignon? It's awkward for me to meet him before I'm introduced.
Chignon. Keep a little behind, mademoiselle; he vill only pashe de room – He vill not see through me.
Enter AlscripAlscrip. Hah, my daughter gone already, but [Sees Chignon.] there's a new specimen of foreign vermin – A lady's valet de chambre – Taste for ever! – Now if I was to give the charge of my person to a waiting maid, they'd say I was indelicate. [As he crosses the Stage, Chignon keeps sideling to intercept his Sight, and bowing as he looks towards him.] What the devil is mounseer at? I thought all his agility lay in his fingers: what antics is the monkey practising? He twists and doubles himself as if he had a raree-show at his back.
Chignon. [Aside.] Be gar no raree-show for you, monsieur Alscrip, if I can help.
Alscrip. [Spying Miss Alton.] Ah! ah! What have we got there? Monsieur, who is that?
Chignon. Sir, my lady wish to speak to you in her boudoir. She sent me to conduct you, sir.
Alscrip. [Imitating.] Yes, sir, but I will first conduct myself to this lady – Tell me this minute, who she is?
Chignon. Sir, she come to live here, companion to my lady – Mademoiselle study some musique – she must not be disturbed.
Alscrip. Get about your business, monsieur, or I'll disturb every comb in your head – Go tell my daughter to stay till I come to her. I shall give her companion some cautions against saucy Frenchmen, sirrah!
Chignon. [Aside.] Cautions! peste! you are subject a' cautions yourself – I suspecte you to be von old rake, but no ver dangerous rival.
[Exit.Alscrip. [To himself, and looking at her with his Glass.] The devil is never tired of throwing baits in my way. [She comes forward modestly.] By all that's delicious! I must be better acquainted with her. [He bows. She courtesies, the Music Book still in her Hand.] But how to begin – My usual way of attacking my daughter's maids will never do.
Miss Alton. [Aside.] My situation is very embarrassing.
Alscrip. Beauteous stranger, give me leave to add my welcome to my daughter's. Since Alscrip House was established, she never brought any thing into it to please me before.
Miss Alton. [A little confused.] Sir, it is a great additional honour to that Miss Alscrip has done me, to be thought worthy so respectable a protection as yours.
Alscrip. I could furnish you with a better word than respectable. It sounds so distant, and my feelings have so little to do with cold respect – I never had such a desire – to make myself agreeable.
Miss Alton. [Aside.] A very strange old man. [To him, more confused.] Sir, you'll pardon me, I believe Miss Alscrip is waiting.
Alscrip. Don't be afraid, my dear, enchanting diffident (zounds, what a flutter am I in!) don't be afraid – my disposition, to be sure, is too susceptible; but then it is likewise so dove-like, so tender, and so innocent. Come, play me that tune, and enchant my ear, as you have done my eye.
Miss Alton. Sir, I wish to be excused, indeed it does not deserve your attention.
Alscrip. Not deserve it! I had rather hear you, than all the signoritininies together. – These are the strings to which my senses shall dance.
[Sets the Harp.Miss Alton. Sir, it is to avoid the affectation of refusing what is so little worth asking for.
[Takes the Harp and plays a Few Bars of a lively Air.Alscrip kisses her Fingers with rapture.Alscrip. Oh! the sweet little twiddle-diddles!
Miss Alton. For shame, sir, what do you mean?
[Alscrip gets hold of both her Hands and continues kissing her Fingers.Miss Alton. [Struggling.] Help!
Enter Miss AlscripMiss Als. I wonder what my papa is doing all this time?
[A short Pause —Miss Alscrip surprised. —Miss Alton confused. —Alscrip puts his Hand to his Eye.Alscrip. Oh, child! I have got something in my eye, that makes me almost mad. – A little midge – believe. – 'Gad, I caught hold of this young lady's hand in one of my twitches, and her nerves were as much in a flutter as if I had bit her.
Miss Als. [Significantly.] Yes, my dear papa, I perceive you have something in your eye, and I'll do my best to take it out immediately – Miss Alton, will you do me the favour to walk into the drawing room?
Miss Alton. I hope, madam, you will permit me, at a proper opportunity, to give my explanation of what has passed?
[Retires.Miss Als. There's no occasion – Let it rest among the catalogue of wonders, like the Glastonbury thorn, that blooms at Christmas. – To be serious, papa, though I carried off your behaviour as well as I could, I am really shocked at it – A man of your years, and of a profession where the opinion of the world is of such consequence —
Alscrip. My dear Molly, have not I quitted the practice of attorney, and turned fine gentleman, to laugh at the world's opinion; or, had I not, do you suppose the kiss of a pretty wench would hurt a lawyer? My dear Molly, if the fraternity had no other reflections to be afraid of!
Miss Als. Oh! hideous, Molly indeed! you ought to have forgot I had a christened name long ago; am not I going to be a countess? If you did not stint my fortune, by squand'ring yours away upon dirty trulls, I might be called your grace.
Alscrip. Spare your lectures, and you shall be called your highness, if you please.
Enter ServantServ. Madam, Lady Emily Gayville is in her carriage in the street, will your ladyship be at home?
Miss Als. Yes, show her into the drawing room. [Exit Servant.] I entreat, sir, you will keep a little more guard upon your passions; consider the dignity of your house, and if you must be cooing, buy a French figurante.
[Exit.Alscrip. Well said, my lady countess! well said, quality morals! What am I the better for burying a jealous wife? To be chicken pecked is a new persecution, more provoking than the old one – Oh Molly! Molly! —
[Exit.SCENE II
The Drawing Room.
Miss Alton, alone.
Miss Alton. What perplexing scenes I already meet with in this house? I ought, however, to be contented in the security it affords against the attempts of Heartly. I am contented – But, O Clifford! It was hard to be left alone to the choice of distresses.
Enter Chignon, introducing Lady EmilyChignon. My Lady Emily Gayville – Madame no here! Mademoiselle, announce, if you please, my lady.
Lady E. [Aside.] Did my ears deceive me? surely I heard the name of Clifford – and it escaped in an accent! – Pray, sir, who is that?
[To Chignon.Chignon. Mademoiselle Alton, confidante of my lady, and next after me in her suite.
[Examines her Head Dress impertinently. Miss Alton with great modesty rises and puts her Work together.Lady E. There seems to be considerable difference in the decorum of her attendants. You need not stay, sir.
Chignon. [As he goes out.] Ma foi, sa tête est passable – her head may pass.
Lady E. [Aside.] How my heart beats with curiosity! [Miss Alton having disposed her things in her Work Bag, is retiring with a Courtesy.] Miss Alton, I am in no haste. On the contrary, I think the occasion fortunate that allows me to begin an acquaintance with a person of so amiable an appearance. I don't know whether that pert foreigner has led me into an error – but without being too inquisitive, may I ask if you make any part of this family?
Miss Alton. Madam, I am under Miss Alscrip's protection: I imagine I am represented as her dependent: I am not ashamed of humble circumstances, that are not the consequences of indiscretion.
Lady E. That with such claims to respect you should be in any circumstances of humiliation, is a disgrace to the age we live in.
Miss Alton. Madam, my humiliation (if such it be) is just. Perhaps I have been too proud, and my heart required this self-correction. A life of retired industry might have been more pleasing to me; but an orphan – a stranger – ignorant and diffident, I preferred my present situation, as one less exposed to misrepresentation. [Bell rings.] I can no longer detain Miss Alscrip from the honour of receiving your ladyship.
[A respectful Courtesy, and exit.Lady E. There is something strangely mysterious and affecting in all this – what delicacy of sentiment – what softness of manners! and how well do these qualities accord with that sigh for Clifford! she has been proud – proud of what? – of Clifford's love. It is too plain. But then to account for her present condition? – He has betrayed and abandoned her – too plain again, I fear. – She talked too of a self-corrected heart – take example, Emily, and recall thine from an object, which it ought more than ever to renounce. But here come the Alscrip and her friend: lud! lud! lud! how shall I recover my spirits! I must attempt it, and if I lose my present thoughts in a trial of extravagance, be it of theirs or my own, it will be a happy expedient.
Enter Miss Alscrip and Mrs. Blandish[Miss Alscrip runs up to Lady Emily and kisses her Forehead.Lady E. I ask your pardon, madam, for being so awkward, but I confess I did not expect so elevated a salute.
Miss Als. Dear Lady Emily, I had no notion of its not being universal. In France, the touch of the lips, just between the eyebrows, has been adopted for years.
Lady E. I perfectly acknowledge the propriety of the custom. It is almost the only spot of the face where the touch would not risk a confusion of complexions.
Miss Als. He! he! he! what a pretty thought!
Mrs. Blandish. How I have longed for this day! – Come, let me put an end to ceremony, and join the hands of the sweetest pair that ever nature and fortune marked for connexion.
[Joins their Hands.Miss Als. Thank you, my good Blandish, though I was determined to break the ice, Lady Emily, in the first place I met you. But you were not at Lady Dovecourt's last night.
Lady E. [Affectedly.] No, I went home directly from the Opera: projected the revival of a cap: read a page in the trials of Temper; went to bed and dreamed I was Belinda in the Rape of the Lock.
Mrs. Blandish. Elegant creature!
Miss Als. [Aside.] I must have that air, if I die for it. [Imitating.] I too came home early; supped with my old gentleman; made him explain my marriage articles, dower, and heirs entail; read a page in a trial of divorce, and dreamed of a rose-colour equipage, with emblems, of Cupids issuing out of coronets.
Mrs. Blandish. Oh, you sweet twins of perfection – what equality in every thing! I have thought of a name for you – The Inseparable Inimitables.
Miss Als. I declare I shall like it exceedingly – one sees so few uncopied originals – the thing I cannot bear —
Lady E. Is vulgar imitation – I must catch the words from your mouth, to show you how we agree.
Miss Als. Exactly. Not that one wishes to be without affectation.
Lady E. Oh! mercy forbid!
Miss Als. But to catch a manner, and weave it, as I may say, into one's own originality.
Mrs. Blandish. Pretty! pretty!
Lady E. That's the art – Lord, if one lived entirely upon one's own whims, who would not be run out in a twelvemonth?
Miss Als. Dear Lady Emily, don't you dote upon folly?
Lady E. To ecstacy. I only despair of seeing it well kept up.
Miss Als. I flatter myself there is no great danger of that.
Lady E. You are mistaken. We have, 'tis true, some examples of the extravaganza in high life, that no other country can match; but withal, many a false sister, that starts as one would think, in the very heyday of the fantastic, yet comes to a stand-still in the midst of the course.
Mrs. Blandish. Poor, spiritless creatures!
Lady E. Do you know there is more than one duchess who has been seen in the same carriage with her husband – like two doves in a basket, in the print of Conjugal Felicity; and another has been detected – I almost blush to name it —
Mrs. Blandish. Bless us! where? and how? and how?
Lady E. In nursing her own child!
Miss Als. Oh! barbarism! – For heaven's sake let us change the subject. You were mentioning a revived cap, Lady Emily; any thing of the Henry Quatre?
Lady E. Quite different. An English mob under the chin, and artless ringlets, in natural colour, that shall restore an admiration for Prior's Nut-brown Maid.
Miss Als. Horrid! shocking!
Lady E. Absolutely necessary. To be different from the rest of the world, we must now revert to nature: Make haste, or you have so much to undo, you will be left behind.
Miss Als. I dare say so. But who can vulgarize all at once? What will the French say?
Lady E. Oh, we shall have a new treaty for the interchange of fashions and follies, and then say, they will complain, as they do of other treaties, that we out manufactured them.
Miss Als. Fashions and follies! O what a charming contention!
Lady E. Yes, and one, thank Heaven, so perfectly well understood on both sides, that no counter declaration will be wanted to explain it.
Miss Als. [With an affected drop of her Lip in her Laugh.] He! he! he! he! he! he!
Lady E. My dear Miss Alscrip, what are you doing? I must correct you as I love you. Sure you must have observed the drop of the under lip is exploded since Lady Simpermode broke a tooth – [Sets her Mouth affectedly.] – I am preparing the cast of the lips for the ensuing winter – thus – It is to be called the Paphian mimp.
Miss Als. [Imitating.] I swear I think it pretty – I must try to get it.
Lady E. Nothing so easy. It is done by one cabalistical word, like a metamorphosis in the fairy tales. You have only, when before your glass, to keep pronouncing to yourself nimini-pimini – the lips cannot fail taking their plie.
Miss Als. Nimini – pimini – imini, mimini – oh, it's delightfully infantine – and so innocent, to be kissing one's own lips.
Lady E. You have it to a charm – does it not become her infinitely, Mrs. Blandish?
Mrs. Blandish. Our friend's features must succeed in every grace! but never so much as in a quick change of extremes.
Enter ServantServ. Madam, Lord Gayville desires to know if you are at home?
Miss Als. A strange formality!
Lady E. [Aside.] No brother ever came more opportunely to a sister's relief, "I have fooled it to the top of my bent."
Miss Als. Desire Miss Alton to come to me. [Exit Servant.] Lady Emily, you must not blame me; I am supporting the cause of our sex, and must punish a lover for some late inattentions – I shall not see him.
Lady E. Oh cruel!
[Sees Miss Alton.Enter Miss AltonMiss Alscrip, you have certainly the most elegant companion in the world.
Miss Als. Dear, do you think so? an ungain, dull sort of a body, in my mind; but we'll try her in the present business. Miss Alton, you must do me a favour. – I want to plague my husband that is to be – you must take my part – you must double me like a second actress at Paris, when the first has the vapours.
Miss Alton. Really, madam, the task you would impose upon me —
Miss Als. Will be a great improvement to you, and quite right for me. – Don't be grave, Lady Emily – [Whose attention is fixed on Miss Alton.] Your brother's penance shall be short, and I'll take the reconciliation scene upon myself.
Lady E. [Endeavouring to recover herself.] I cannot but pity him; especially as I am sure, that do what you will, he will always regard you with the same eyes. And so, my sweet sister, I leave him to your mercy, and to that of your representative, whose disposition, if I have any judgment, is ill suited to a task of severity.
Mrs. Blandish. Dear Lady Emily, carry me away with you. When a lover is coming, it shall never be said I am in the way.
Lady E. [Looking at Miss Alton. – Aside.] What a painful suspense am I to suffer? another instant, and I shall betray myself – adieu, Miss Alscrip.
Miss Als. Call Lady Emily's servants.
Lady E. You sha'n't stir – remember nimini primini. I am at your orders.
[Exit.Mrs. Blandish. I follow you, my sweet volatile. [Coming back, and squeezing Miss Alscrip's Hand, in a half whisper.] She'd give her eyes, to be like you.
[Exit.Miss Als. Now for it, Miss Alton – Only remember that you are doubling me, the woman he adores.
Miss Alton. Indeed, madam, I am quite incapable of executing your orders to your satisfaction. The utmost I can undertake is a short message.
Miss Als. Never fear. [Knock at the Door.] There he comes – Step aside, and I'll give you your very words.
[Exeunt.Enter Lord Gayville, conducted by a ServantLord G. So, now to get thorough this piece of drudgery. There's a meanness in my proceeding, and my compunction is just. Oh, the dear, lost possessor of my heart; lost, irrecoverably lost!
Enter Miss Alton, from the Bottom of the SceneMiss Alton. A pretty employment I am sent upon!
Lord G. [To himself.] Could she but know the sacrifice I am ready to make!
Miss Alton. [To herself.] The very picture of a lover, if absence of mind marks one. It is unpleasant for me to interrupt a man I never saw, but I shall deliver my message very concisely. – My lord —
Lord G. [Turning.] Madam. [Both start and stand in surprise.] Astonishment! Miss Alton! my charming fugitive?