Dramas (Baillie)/The Alienated Manor/Act 5

by Joanna Baillie

ACT V.

SCENE I.—A Grove of Trees, with a tangled Thicket in the Back-ground. Charville is discovered pacing to and fro, in a disturbed Manner, Smitchenstault peeping behind him, through the Bushes.

CHARVILLE (after muttering to himself confusedly).

A cloak! a convenience! a provider for disorderly passion!—Noosed for this purpose! Her cunning, her witchery, her wickedness—who could have imagined it? (After a pause.) Gain her affections from me! Are his person, his manners, his intellects superior to mine? It is not so: comparison has not produced it. Any man might have had her who happened to come in her way with baseness enough to attempt it.—What can I do? There is no corroborated proof: the world would laugh me to scorn.—Oh, it is ever thus! Would I had done with this envious, malicious world!—Ha!

SMITCHENSTAULT (coming forward).

Don't start, my dear frent; I know all dat you do tink, and I am your frent

CHARVILLE.

I have disclosed my thoughts to no one.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Your tongue has not; but when you come to my room secretly to ask of me if it was really Sir Robert dat I did see pass trough dat chamber, and when I tell you dat mine own two eyes do see him, your eyes, your visage, your body, your limb, every ting dat you have, speak for de tongue, and tell me dat you love no Sir Robert in de house wid your wife.

CHARVILLE (starting away from him).

I cannot live and bear it.[Exit.

SMITCHENSTAULT (alone).

Not live! Ah if he would be so kind! It would be good ting for me and de dear Mary. He never give consent to our matrimony; if he die, she be free to marry me, and give me de fortune. Very good ting! ay, very good ting.

Re-enter Charville.

CHARVILLE.

Forgive me, Smitchenstault; I am a miserable man, and you have discovered it. But tell no creature the disordered state in which you have found me. You are a stranger, and therefore I am the less distressed that you do know my misery; and you say you are my friend.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Yes, de true frent; all dat I do for you, I do for myself. Speak to me all dat you tink.

CHARVILLE.

That is impossible! I am miserable; I live in torture; I wish I were out of this hateful world. Could it be without crime, I would have done with it at once.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

What you call crime? Have you no more reason dat you mind all dat petty superstitions? Very pretty ting, indeed, to live, if you don't like it: who tank you for dat? I am free—I feel dat I am free. I not come here to be unhappy; when I be so, I go away.

CHARVILLE.

Ay, but where, my friend?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

To de good sound sleep; to de notting.

CHARVILLE.

That were an effectual remedy. I am miserable!

SMITCHENSTAULT.

And what oblige you to be so?

CHARVILLE.

Ha, tempter! Would you have me destroy myself?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

No! I only wish you not to be miserable.

CHARVILLE.

How can I be otherwise?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

I teach you. Do you consider now, and do you tink, and do you say to yourself, "Why be I unhappy? I have de bad wife. O very true; oder men have de bad wife also. Dey call me cocklum." What you call de man wid de (spreading out two of his fingers significantly)—ay, ay, cuckold. "Very well, oder men——"

CHARVILLE (starting from him).

I shall run distracted!

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Ay; all dis not be pleasant, but it be foolish dat you let it make you miserable. But if you cannot help dis, where is de obligation dat you should bear it? Keep a your place, dey say: foh, foh! de place where I am best is my place.

CHARVILLE.

If I could but leave them my misery as a legacy behind me!

SMITCHENSTAULT.

O you will leave dat to Sir Robert; he will get de bad wife to torment him.

CHARVILLE.

Marry! Devil choke them! I would live to the age of Methuselah rather, were I wretched as wretchedness could make me. Marry! (tearing his hair extravagantly.) it makes me mad to think of it. (Striding rapidly to the bottom of the stage).

SMITCHENSTAULT (aside).

Foolish wort! I am all wrong here.

CHARVILLE (returning).

And you think they would marry?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

O no, no! I speak de joke: he be too wise to marry her, and den she will say, Oh, oh! and tink of de good husband she had.

CHARVILLE.

Think of me! Yes, she will then think of me. She must think of me then. If I could but rend her guilty heart with remorse! If I could make her miserable!

SMITCHENSTAULT.

O no doubt of dat; she will be very miserable, and have de bitter misery.

CHARVILLE.

Ay, that were something; that were worth dying for. She will think of me then in the agony of repentance. If I could be sure of this,—be sure. (A pause of thought.) But are you a man, and advise me to such a desperate act?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

I am a philosopher, and advise you to notting. But dere is de good reason, if you will hear it;—de sober, well-considered reasons on bote sides of de question; and I will say dem all over to you in good order. First, dere be——

CHARVILLE (impatiently).

Not now—not now. I am distracted. [Exit.

SMiTCHENSTAULT (looking after him with disappointment).

He wont do it, after all, de chicken-heart, for as well as de English love to hang demselves. If he do, I have de sweet Mary, and all her fortune; but if he do not—O I will say it be all a joke dat I did say to him, and den dere will be no more about it. Chick-hearted fellow! (Starting.) A noise amongst the bushes! What face is dat peeping through de leaves? Dere is surely no devil in daylight. My flesh creep—foolish fear! it was noting. [Exit, and presently Sancho comes from the thicket, creeping on hands and feet.

SANCHO.

Tat talky talky man chace him from tis spot, so convenient for it. But he no escape me. (Looking carefully round.) O still in te wood. Yonder he walk. I be near him again presently.

[Exit again into the thicket.

SCENE II.

A small Glade in the Wood, surrounded with high Fern and Bushes.

Enter Charville.

CHARVILLE (after walking with hasty disturbed steps to the front of the stage, stops short, and continues musing for some time before he speaks).

She will think of all this when it is too late: it will embitter her days; she will then bear her torment in secret. She will know I have loved her; she will know it then. The time runs on; it should be done. O that it were done! But the doing of it is a fearful effort. (Fulls out a pistol, and looks at it ruefully.) Is there no way of getting rid of this hateful world but by this miserable act of self-destruction? O that some friendly hand would rid me of my wretched life! I cannot do it. (Throws away the pistol, which Sancho, bursting from the fern, &c. takes up, and runs fiercely at him, presenting it to his head.)

SANCHO.

Me will do it for you, and tank you too.

CHARVILLE.

Hold, hold! For Heaven's sake spare my life.

SANCHO.

Me spare you! you who ruinated my massa! You kite, you rook; you shall now be food for te rooks! (Snaps the pistol, which misses fire; then Charville wrests it from him, and they both grapple with one another stoutly, when Sancho being about to get the better of Charville, Sir Robert Freemantle enters, and rescues the latter.)

FREEMANTLE. (keeping fast hold of Sancho).

Villain, or desperado! keep still; for I will not quit my hold till thou art in safe custody.

CHARVILLE.

Brave stranger! How shall I thank—Ha! Freemantle. (Turning away his head.)

FREEMANTLE.

Did you not know me? But that look of distress and displeasure! What does it mean at such a moment as this?

CHARVILLE.

Do not inquire. Your own conscience will answer your question. What has been your motive for lingering about my house?

FREEMANTLE.

You have discovered my secret, then, and the sight of me is hateful to you.

CHARVILLE.

What! you own it: the poor covering of secrecy is done away; you look in my face and own it. I am degraded even to this.[Exit distractedly.

FREEMANTLE (still holding Sancho).

Is he mad? I cannot follow him for this fellow. Ho, help there! Holla, there!

Enter Crafton.

CRAFTON.

Ha! is it you, Freemantle? What do you here with that black creature whom you collar so tightly?

FREEMANTLE.

He would have murdered Charville. See, his pistol is on the ground.

CRAFTON.

Would you have murdered him, you rascal?

SANCHO.

Me true man and no rascal. Me rascal if me not kill te base cruel rook dat ruinated my massa.

CRAFTON.

Why, Sancho, my old friend Sancho, is it you?

SANCHO.

Me no your frien. You cruel to my massa.

CRAFTON.

Nay, nay, be pacified, faithful Sancho. I am a better friend to thy master than he is to himself, and I will prove it. He shan't remain long in prison: be pacified.—(To Freemantle.) Let him go: I'll be his warrant that he shall follow us quietly to the house.—Wont you, Sancho?

SANCHO.

Me not promise.

CRAFTON.

But I will trust you without a promise.

FREEMANTLE.

Be it so, then; but he must not have the pistol again. (Lets go his hold, while Crafton takes the pistol from the ground.)

CRAFTON.

But where is Charville? Let us go to him.

FREEMANTLE.

I cannot. He knows my secret, and is so sternly offended, it is impossible for me to speak to him in his present unaccountable frenzy.

CRAFTON.

Never mind that. Come along; here is a letter that will make you stand firmly before him.

FREEMANTLE. (snatching the letter).

The long lost papers are found.

CRAFTON.

Even so; read it as we go.—Come along, Sancho. Thy master will be the better for it too; he will soon be a free man again.

SANCHO.

You say tat,—you sure of tat,—you swear tat?

CRAFTON.

Yes, yes; I'll say it and swear it too, if thou wilt not take my word for it.

SANCHO.

O good Massa Crafton! me tank you, me embrace you, me kneel to you.

CRAFTON (raising him).

Fy, fy, fy! Let no man be on his knees but when he is at his prayers. Come with us and fear nothing; though this was a desperate attempt, a very wicked attempt against the laws of the land.

SANCHO.

Me care for te laws when te laws care for me.

CRAFTON.

Well, well, come with us. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Library. Enter Charville, in violent Agitation, followed by Mrs. Charville and Mary.

CHARVILLE (speaking as he enters to Mrs. Charville).

No, madam; do not follow me; it is in vain to explain it. The secret is out—the guilty secret is out: he has had the boldness to acknowledge it himself—to acknowledge to my face. I am such a creature now as he need no longer keep measures with. Away, perverted woman! Do you follow me still? Do you look me in the face? (Beating his forehead.) He acknowledged it himself.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

Acknowledged it?

CHARVILLE.

Yes, madam. You disdained explanation, forsooth. Your virtuous pride was offended, and since I employed disguise in the matter, I must find it out myself. I have found it out, madam; he confessed it himself.

MARY.

My dear brother, what was it he did confess?

CHARVILLE.

Art thou a fool? Canst thou not comprehend? That woman there, whom thou callest thy sister,—thy amiable sister,—that woman whom I married,—that woman whom I loved better than myself.

MARY.

Nay, that is a mistake of yours, brother; for if you had loved any thing better than yourself, you would never have been in this condition. Your closeness and self-love have made you always suspicious. I thought, indeed, that a wife of her cheerful temper would have enlarged your heart, and——

CHARVILLE.

Hold thy tongue, simpleton; she has enlarged my head. (Stamping with his feet, and beating his forehead.) The whole world must know it now. Since he brazens it out himself, the shame is public. I shall be known to be——

MRS. CHARVILLE.

Nothing but a fool, and that you must submit to, being a distinction which you have taken so much pains to acquire.

CHARVILLE.

O woman, woman! thy audacity is amazing.

Enter Crafton and Sir Robert Freemantle.

CRAFTON.

Excuse this intrusion, Mr. Charville. I bring a culprit in my hand, who fears he has offended you.

CHARVILLE.

O most courtly phrase! That black villain who would have murdered me, he fears, too, I suppose, that he has offended me.—Sir Robert, you have saved my life, and I cannot turn you out of my house; but you have made that life hateful to me, and I hate it the more for being preserved by you.

GRAFTON.

Be more calm, my good sir. He has, indeed, gained the lady's affections unknown to you, and——

CHARVILLE.

And may take her and her affections also, and the devil give them his benediction.

CRAFTON.

Well, Freemantle, e'en take the lady as she is offered to you, though it be not in the most gracious manner. Fortune is no object now; take her and marry her out of hand.

FREEMANTLE.

I cannot follow more pleasing advice.

CHARVILLE.

Marry her without a divorce! I'll not divorce her. I'll be hanged if I give her up to any man alive.

CRAFTON.

Pray, good Sir, turn your eyes upon the party. I believe this match, which my nephew has so long desired, may be accomplished without a divorce.

CHARVILLE (turning round and seeing Sir Robert with Mary's hand in his).

My sister! you bewilder me.—Where is my wife?

CRAFTON.

Most dutifully employed laughing at you in her sleeve at the other corner of the room.

MRS. CHARVILLE (advancing).

My dear Charles, I told you you would prove a fool at last.

CHARVILLE.

But, Madam, you have not yet proved it.—Sister, let go that man's hand, and answer me a question. How long is it since he first paid his addresses to you?

MARY.

His addresses have been short, but I have reason to believe he has been attached to me since we first met, some months ago, in Shropshire.

CHARVILLE.

And I have reason to believe he has made thee a mere cat's paw of convenience, silly girl!—(Turning to Freemantle.) Let me ask you, Sir, why, in my family, your marked attentions were paid to that lady? (pointing to Mrs. Charville.)

FREEMANTLE.

My dear uncle, you must answer this question.

CRAFTON.

Then, frankly and honestly, I'll tell you the whole truth, which, in its full extent, even Freemantle himself is ignorant of. I counselled him to pay his chief attentions to Mrs. Charville, to conceal from you his design upon your sister, lest you should forbid him your house, and blast all his pretensions in the bud, being then ill entitled to propose himself as a suitor. And besides this——

CHARVILLE.

Why do you hesitate? Proceed. You will make your tale hang together, some way or other, I suppose.

CRAFTON.

Besides, I thought it might engage Mrs. Charville—(pardon me, Madam, you were a stranger to me, and I had heard that you were fond of such attentions,)—engage her to plead with you in his behalf.

CHARVILLE.

And this is your story? A simple plot, truly, for a simple man to listen to.

CRAFTON.

This is all my plot or story as Freemantle is privy to it; but there was another part of it concealed in my own breast, which shall be so no longer. I hoped that by making you jealous of his visits here to incline you to leave my neighbourhood, and restore to me at a reasonable price the possession of my forefathers. This sinister design has failed—deservedly failed—for I do not justify it; and now you have my sincere confession without reserve. I am sorry for the pain and trouble I have occasioned: can you forgive me, Charville?

CHARVILLE.

I will try to do it. I 'm glad you have not got the manor though.—(To Mrs. Charville.) And can you forgive me?

MRS. CHARVILLE.

I'll trv to do it; and if you are very good, and very penitent, and less suspicious, and less teasing, and more docile, and more obliging, I make no doubt but I shall succeed.

CHARVILLE.

So I find I have a great many changes to make.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

Yes, Mr. Charville; and in return I'll make some too. I'll be grave, orderly, and demure before all men, smiling only on mine own wedded lord, when he encourages me to do so; three times in a week, perhaps, or oftener, as it may chance. I'll not whisper in the ear of my first cousin, unless he be blear-eyed, or have a hump on his back; and I'll neither go to grove, arbour, nor closet, till I have sent you before me to see that there be nobody there.

CHARVILLE.

Harriet, Harriet! I thought this would have moved you differently. You triumph, no doubt; but less exultation, and more candour, would surely have been as becoming. If I am more suspicious than other men—I am not aware that I am so—you must at least acknowledge that it was an extraordinary circumstance to have an honourable suitor to a young lady concealed in a family, and making his way through private doors, and by private stairs, to apartments which she did not occupy. This is no chimera of my brain, Madam; Mr. Smitchenstault saw it.

MARY.

I believe, brother, all that you really know of the matter is that Smitchenstault said so.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

But here he comes; and if he says so again, when confronted with Smoothly, we shall yield that point to you entirely.

Enter Smitchenstault.

Mr. Smitchenstault, do you seriously aver that you saw Sir Robert Freemantle pass through the haunted chamber while you were in hiding there?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Madam, I have eyes in my head; I see what I do see, and I know what I do see.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

We don't doubt that in the least; but did you actually see a man pass? and was it this identical man? (pointing to Freemantle.)

CHARVILLE.

Answer me, Sir, did you see this man pass through the chamber?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

In de imaginations I see one man very like dat man.

CHARVILLE.

In the imaginations! Then you have not really seen it, and you have told me an untruth.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

What you call false? What you call true? De imaginations is all dat we do know: de veritable real true is a foolish notion—is a notting. In mine imaginations I see Sir Robert, and if in imaginations he was not dere, what can I help dat?

CHARVILLE.

Sir, go out of my house, and never enter it again, as long as you live.

CRAFTON.

Unless it be in imaginations, Mr. Smitchenstault.

SMITCHENSTAULT (to Charville).

My good Sir, you are in de passion: dere be no good reason in dat. Be not in de passion: de sweet Mary will plead for me.

MARY.

Not I, Mr. Smitchenstault.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

What! you wish me to leave dis house? Ha! you only deceive; you be ashamed to own de tender toughts of your heart. You not wish me gone. It was your sweet looks dat keep me here so long.

MARY.

With the help of your imaginations.

CHARVILLE.

Out of my house, wriggling deceiver!

MRS. CHARVILLE.

Don't press him to go so immediately; for Mrs. Smoothly has some matters to settle with him before he leave the house.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

O devil! I not wait for dat.[Exit hastily.

CRAFTON.

Now, Mr. Charville, this point being settled, let me crave your pardon for a poor criminal in custody below: he is a faithful servant to an unfortunate master.

CHARVILLE.

Speak no more of it: my heart has often smote me on that subject. I have renounced the gaming-table for ever, and I restore to poor Henry all I have won from him, though it was, by every rule of honourable play, fairly won.

CRAFTON.

I believe so, entirely. But I wish the rules of honour came a little nearer to the good Bible precept, "Think not of your own matters, but think also everv one of his neighbour's." You risked a small part of your ample fortune against the whole of poor Henry's, and you took it from him. However, in restoring it, you do what has seldom been done by men of honour; and, on the part of my thoughtless relation, I gratefully receive your generosity.

MARY (after a pause).

Charles, you look melancholy; what are you thinking of?

CHARVILLE.

What I never suspected before—that I have been a very selfish fellow.—Mr. Crafton, I know that this estate was purchased by my family at an unfair price. I return it to you for the sum which was given for it.

CRAFTON.

No, Sir; after the indirect means I have used to wrest it from you, I feel that I do not deserve it. I too have been a selfish fellow.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

Nay, if you come to confessions, I must speak also; I have been a careless, thoughtless, vain and giddy wife.

CHARVILLE.

I forgive thee, Harriet; and though I cannot own entirely that character of suspicion which you would all so decidedly fasten upon me, yet I will freely confess——

CRAFTON.

Have done with confessions. We shall all be wiser, and, I hope, better, for what has just passed, and therefore have no cause to regret it.