Lion. 'Tis I, and only I, am to blame: the father's security had its effect upon me, and drew me on to indulge the tender ingenuousness of the daughter; my own imagination went astray, while I ought to have exerted myself to restrain yours. But here, madam, I give you back your declarations: keep them for some happier man, who may receive them without wounding his honour, or his peace. Clar. Is it come to this? Lion. Why do you weep? Jen. [Entering-Aside.] I can wait no longer, but must run to my master, and tell him the words of this honourable young man. Clar. Do not speak to me. [Exit. Lion. Oh! my Clarissa, my heart is broken; but while I am hateful to myself for having yielded to my growing passion, let me pray for your health and prosperity. Clar. Can you forsake me?-Have I then given my affections to a man who rejects and disregards them? Let me throw myself at my father's feet: he is generous and compassionate-He knows your worth Lion. Mention it not; were you stript of fortune, reduced to the meanest station, and I monarch of the globe, I should glory in raising you to universal empire; but as it is Clar. Yet hear me Lion. Farewel, farewel! AIR. O dry those tears! like melted ore, On a wild sea of passion tost, Friendship and love at once are lost, [Exit. Enter JENNY. Jen. O madam! I have betrayed you. I have gone and said something I should not have said, to my uncle Jenkins; and, as sure as day, he has gone and told it all to Sir John. Clar. My father! Enter Sir JoHN FLOWERDALE, and JENKINS. Sir John. Go, Jenkins, and desire that young gentleman to come back [Exit J.]-Stay, where you are But what have I done to my child? How have I deserved that you should treat me like an enemy? Has there been any undesigned rigour in my conduct, or terror in my looks? Enter JENKINS and LIONEL, Clar. Oh, Sir! Jenk. Here is Mr. Lionel. Sir John. Come in-When I tell you that I am instructed in all your proceedings, you will, perhaps, imagine what my thoughts are of you, and the measures which justice prescribes me to follow. Lion. Sir, I will say nothing in my own defence; but submit without a murmur to your judgment. Sir John. As for you, Clarissa, since your earliest infancy, you have known no parent but me; I have been to you, at once, both father and mother; and that I might the better fulfil those united duties, though left a widower in the prime of my days, I would never enter into a second marriage-I loved you for your likeness to your dear mother; but that mother repaid my affection by an open confidence and there the likeness fails-Clarissa, you should have trusted me. Jen. O, my dear sweet lady!- Sir John, As for you, Mr. Lionel, what terms can I find strong enough to paint the excess of my friendship! I loved, I esteemed, I honoured your father: he was a brave, a generous, and a sincere man; I thought you inherited his good qualities-you were left an orphan, I adopted you, put you upon the footing of my own son; educated you like a gentleman, and designed you for a profession, to which, I thought, your virtues would have been an ornament. L Jen. Dear me, dear me! Jenk. Hold your tongue. Sir John. What return you have made me, you must be acquainted with yourself: and, therefore, I shall not repeat it-Yet, remember, in addition to the rest, that the last mark of my bounty was conferred upon you in the very time when you were looking to my daughter whom I was bestowing elsewhere. Now, Sir, I have but one thing more to say to you-Take that daughter: were she worth a million, she is at your service. Lion. To me, Sir !--your daughter!-do you give her to me?-Without fortune-without friends!-withoutSir John. You have them all in your own heart; he whom virtue raises, fortune cannot abase. Clar. O, Sir, let me on my knees kiss that dear hand -acknowledge my error, and entreat forgiveness and blessing. Sir John. If you have erred at all, my dear daughter, it can be only in not having laid open your heart to your father. If there be any thing for me to forgive, I forgive it. In your turn forgive the little trial I have been making of you both; for I am happier in the son-in-law given me, than if you had married a prince you have Lion. My patron-my friend-my father--I would fain say something; but, as your goodness exceeds the bounds Sir John. I think I hear a coach drive into the courtit is Colonel Oldboy's family; I will go and receive them. Do not make yourself uneasy at this; we must endeavour to pacify them as well as we can. My dear Lionel, if I have made you happy, you have made me so. Heaven bless you, my children, and make you deserving of one another. [Exeunt Sir John and Jenkins. Jen. O, dear madam, upon my knees I humbly beg your forgiveness-Dear Mr. Lionel, forgive me- I did not design to discover it, indeed-and you won't turn me off, madam, will you? I'll serve you for nothing. Clar. Get up my good Jenny; I freely forgive you, if there is any thing to be forgiven. I know you love me; and, I am sure, here is one who will join with me in rewarding your services. AIR: DUET. Lion. O bliss unexpected! my joys overpower me! Lion. Forsaken, abandon'd, Both. Pain oft is inflicted by Heaven, out of kindness, To heighten the joys that we find to succeed. Our day was o'ercast; But brighter the scene is, The sky more serene is, And softer the calm for the hurricane past. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Another Apartment in Sir John Flowerdale's House. Enter Lady MARY OLDBOY, leaning on a Servant, JESSAMY leading her. Lady M. 'Tis all in vain, my dear-set me down any where; I can't go a step further.—I knew, when Mr. Oldboy insisted upon my coming, that I should be seized with a meagrim by the way; and it's well I did not die in the coach. Jes. But, pr'ythee, why will you let yourself be affected with such trifles-Nothing more common than for young women of fashion to go off with low fellows. Lady M. Only feel, my dear, how I tremble! Not a nerve but what is in agitation; and my blood runs cold, cold! Jes. Well, but, Lady Mary, don't let us expose ou selves to those people; I see there is not one of the rasca about us, that has not a grin upon his countenance. Lady M. Expose ourselves! my dear? Your fathe will be as ridiculous as Hudibras, or Don Quixotte. Jes. Yes, he will be very ridiculous indeed. Enter Sir JoHN FLOWERDALE and Colonel OLDBOY. Sir John. I give you my word, my good friend an neighbour, the joy I feel on this occasion is greatly allaye by the disappointment of an alliance with your family but I have explained to you how things have happenedYou see my situation; and, as you are kind enough t consider it yourself, I hope you will excuse it to your son Lady M. Sir John Flowerdale, how do you do? Yo see we have obeyed your summons; and I have the plea sure to assure you, that my son yielded to my entreatie with very little disagreement: in short, if I may speak metaphorically, he is content to stand candidate againnotwithstanding his late repulse, when he hopes for a unanimous election. Col. Well, but my Lady, you may save your rhetoric for the borough is disposed of to a worthier member. Jes. What do you say, Sir? Enter LIONEL and CLARISSA. Sir John. Here are my son and daughter. Sir John. Believe me, madam, it is not for the want of a just sense of Mr. Jessamy's merit, that this affair has gone off on my side; but the heart is a delicate thing; and after it has once felt, if the object is meritorious, the impression is not easily effaced-It would, therefore, have been an injury to him, to have given him in appearance, what another in reality possessed. Jes. Sir John, I am not in the least offended at this contre-temps.-Pray, Lady Mary, say no more about it. Col. Tol, lol, lol, lol. Sir John. But, my dear Colonel, I am afraid, after all, this affair is taken amiss by you; yes, I see you are |