Land. To be sure it is, Sir, but what shall we say against it; for if miser's come back to the world again to look after their gold, why may not a mother come back to it again to look after her children, oppress'd by a hard hearted step-mother?
Bea. Indeed, it would be difficult in this case to gainsay it. But let us have coffee in the next room, I pray you, as soon as you can.
Land. Immediately, Sir. (Exit Landlady.
Bea. This is a strange untoward account that our good landlady gives us of the family. One can find out, however, that domestic comfort is no more the lot of poor Seabright—but we shall see when we go to him what state he is in.
Mor. You will see yourself then, for I shan't go to him at all.
Bea. No! don't say so, my good friend: he was an affectionate husband to your niece, and an indulgent father to her children: (Mor. shakes his head.) When his wife died, his old habits were broken up; he is of an aspiring disposition; a high alliance and a borough presented themselves to him, and he fell into the snare. (Mor. still shakes his head) He has married a woman who is narrow minded naturally; but that disposition has been strengthened by circumstances: she has long been left, as a single woman, to support high rank upon a very small income, and has lived much with those to whom begging and solicitations are no disgrace: differently circumstanced she might have been
