Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding
Page 300
HARRIET. It were ungenerous in me to doubt you, and when I think what you have done for me, believe me, I must think the balance on your side.
CLERMONT. Generous creature! and dost thou not for me hazard the eternal anger of your father, the reproaches of your family, the censures of the world, who always blame the conduct of the person who sacrifices interest to any consideration?
HARRIET. AS for the censures of the world, I despise them while I do not deserve them: folly is forwarder to censure wisdom, than wisdom folly. I were weak indeed not to embrace real happiness, because the world does not call it so.
CLERMONT. But see, my dearest, your brother is come into the garden.
HARRIET. Is it not safe, think you, to let him into our secret?
CLERMONT. Yon know, by outwardly humouring your father, in railing against the extravagance of young men, I have brought him to look on me as his enemy: it will be first proper to set him right in that point. Besides, in managing the old gentleman, I shall still be obliged to a behaviour which the impatience of his temper may not bear; therefore I think it not advisable to trust him, at least yet he will observe us. Adieu, my heart’s only joy.
HARRIET. Honest creature! what happiness may I propose in a life with such a husband! what is there in grandeur to recompense the loss of him! Parents choose as often ill for us, as we for ourselves. They are too apt to forget how seldom true happiness lives in a palace, or rides in a coach and six.
SCENE V.
FREDERICK, HARRIET.
FREDERICK. Dear Harriet, good-morrow, I am glad to find you alone; for I have an affair to impart to you, that I am ready to burst with.
HARRIET. You know, brother, I am a trusty confidante.
FREDERICK. As ever wore petticoats; but this is an affair of such consequence —
HARRIET. Or it were not worth your telling me.
FREDERICK. Nor your telling again; in short, you never could discover it, I could afford you ten years to guess it in. I am — you will laugh immoderately when you know it — I am — it is impossible to tell you. In a word, I am in love.
HARRIET. In love!
FREDERICK. Violently, to distraction: so much in love, that without more hopes than I at present see any possibility of obtaining, I cannot live three days.
HARRIET. And has this violent distemper, pray, come upon you of a sudden?
FREDERICK. No, I have bred it a long time. It hath been growing these several weeks. I stifled it as long as I could; but it is now come to a crisis, and I must either have the woman, or you will have no brother.
HARRIET. But who is this woman? for you have concealed it so well that I can’t even guess.
FREDERICK. In the first place, she is a most intolerable coquette.
HARRIET. That is a description I shall never find her out by. There are so many of her sisters, you might as well tell me the colour of her complexion.
FREDERICK. Secondly, she is almost eternally at cards.
HARRIET. You must come to particulars. I shall never discover your mistress till you tell me more than that she is a woman, and lives in this town.
FREDERICK. Her fortune is very small.
HARRIET. I find you are enumerating her charms.
FREDERICK. Oh! I have only shown you the reverse; but were you to behold the medal on the right side, you would see beauty, wit, genteelness, politeness — in a word, you would see Mariana.
HARRIET. Mariana! ha, ha, ha! — you have started a wildgoose chase, indeed. But, if you could ever prevail on her, you may depend on it, it is an arrant impossibility to prevail on my father, and you may easily imagine what success a disinherited son may likely expect with a woman of her temper.
FREDERICK. I know ‘tis difficult, but nothing’s impossible to love, at least nothing’s impossible to woman; and therefore, if you and the ingenious Mrs. Lappet will but lay your heads together in my favour, I shall be far from despairing; and in return, sister, for this kindness —
HARRIET. And in return, brother, for this kindness, you may perhaps have it in your power to do me a favour of pretty much the same nature.
LOVEGOLD. [Without.] Rogue! villain!
HARRIET. Soh; what’s the matter now? what can have thrown my father into this passion?
FREDERICK. The loss of an old slipper, I suppose, or something of equal consequence. Let us step aside into the next walk, and talk more of our affairs.
SCENE VI.
LOVEGOLD, RAMILIE.
LOVEGOLD. Answer me not, sirrah; but get you out of my house.
RAMILIE. Sir, I am your son’s servant, and not yours, sir; and I won’t go out of the house, sir, unless I am turned out by my proper master, sir.
LOVEGOLD. Sirrah, I’ll turn your master out after you, like an extravagant rascal as he is; he has no need of a servant while he is in my house; and here he dresses out a fellow at more expense than a prudent man might clothe a large family at; it’s plain enough what use he keeps you for; but I will have no spy upon my affairs, no rascal continually prying into all my actions, devouring all I have, and hunting about in every corner to see what he may steal.
RAMILIE. Steal! a likely thing, indeed, to steal from a man who locks up every thing he has, and stands sentry upon it day and night.
LOVEGOLD. I’m all over in a sweat, lest this fellow should suspect something of my money: [Aside.] Harkye, rascal, come hither, I would advise you not to run about the town, and tell everybody you meet that I have money hid.
RAMILIE. Why, have you any money hid, sir?
LOVEGOLD. No, sirrah, I don’t say I have; but you may raise such a report, nevertheless.
RAMILIE. ‘Tis equal to me whether you have money hid or no, since I cannot find it.
LOVEGOLD. D’ye mutter, sirrah? Get you out of my house, I say, get you out this instant.
RAMILIE. Well, sir, I am going.
LOVEGOLD. Come back; let me desire you to carry nothing away with you.
RAMILIE. What should I carry?
LOVEGOLD. That’s what I would see. These boot-sleeves were certainly intended to be the receivers of stolen goods, and I wish the tailor had been hanged who invented them. Turn your pockets inside out, if you please; but you are too practised a rogue to put any thing there. These damned bags have had many a good thing in them, I warrant you.
RAMILIE. Give me my bag, sir; I am in the most danger of being robbed.
LOVEGOLD. Come, come, be honest, and return what thou hast taken from me.
RAMILIE. Ay, sir, that I could do with all my heart, for I have taken nothing from you but some boxes on the ear.
LOVEGOLD. And hast thou really stolen nothing?
RAMILIE. No really, sir.
LOVEGOLD. Then get out of my house while ‘tis all well, and go to the devil.
RAMILIE. Ay, any where from such an old covetous curmudgeon.
LOVEGOLD. So, there’s one plague gone; now I will go pay a visit to the dear casket.
SCENE VII.
LOVEGOLD, FREDERICK, HARRIET.
LOVEGOLD. In short, I must find some safer place to deposit those three thousand guineas in, which I received yesterday; three thousand guineas are a sum — O Heavens! I have betrayed myself! my passion has transported me to talk aloud, and I have been overheard. How now! What’s the matter?
FREDERICK. The matter, sir?
LOVEGOLD. Yes, the matter, sir; I suppose you can repeat more of my words than these; I suppose you have overheard —
FREDERICK. What, sir?
LOVEGOLD. That —
FREDERICK. Sir!
LOVEGOLD. What I was just now saying.
HARRIET. Pardon me, sir, we really did not.
LOVEGOLD. Well, I see you did overhear something, and so I will tell you the whole: I was saying to myself, in this great scarcity of money, what happiness it would be to have three thousand guineas by one: I tell you this, that you might not misunderstand me, and imagine that I said I had three thousand guineas!
FREDERICK. We enter
not into your affairs, sir.
LOVEGOLD. Ah! would I had those three thousand guineas!
FREDERICK. In my opinion —
LOVEGOLD. It would make my affairs extremely easy.
FREDERICK. Then it is very easily in your power to raise, them, sir, that the whole world knows.
LOVEGOLD. I raise them! I raise three thousand guineas easily! My children are my greatest enemies, and will, by their way of talking, and by the extravagant expenses they run into, be the occasion that, one of these days, some body will cut my throat, imagining me to be made up of nothing but guineas.
FREDERICK. What expense, sir, do I run into?
LOVEGOLD. How! have you the assurance to ask me that, sir? when, if one was but to pick those fine feathers of yours oft’, from head to foot, one might purchase a very comfortable annuity out of them: a fellow, here, with a very good fortune upon his back, wonders that he is called extravagant. In short, sir, you must rob me to appear in this manner.
FREDERICK. How, sir! rob you?
LOVEGOLD. Ay, rob me; or how could you support this extravagance?
FREDERICK. Alas, sir, there are fifty young fellows of my acquaintance that support greater extravagances, and no one knows how: Ah, sir! there are ten thousand pretty ways of living in this town without robbing one’s father.
LOVEGOLD. What necessity is there for all that lace on your coat? and all bought at the first hand too, I warrant you. If you will be fine, is there not such a place as Monmouth Street in this town, where a man may buy a suit for a third part of the sum which his tailor demands? And then, periwigs! what need has a man of periwigs, when he may wear his own hair? I dare swear a good periwig can’t cost less than fifteen or twenty shillings. Heyday! what, are they making signs to one another which shall pick my pocket?
HARRIET. My brother and I, sir, are disputing which shall speak to you first, for we have both an affair of consequence to mention to you.
LOVEGOLD. And I have an affair of consequence to mention to you both. Pray, son, you who are a fine gentleman, and converse much amongst the ladies, what think you of a certain young lady, called Mariana?
FREDERICK. Mariana, sir!
LOVEGOLD. Ay, what do you think of her?
FREDERICK. Think of her, sir!
LOVEGOLD. Why do you repeat my words? Ay, what do you think of her?
FREDERICK. Why, I think her the most charming woman in the world.
LOVEGOLD. Would she not be a desirable match?
FREDERICK. So desirable that, in my opinion, her husband will be the happiest of mankind.
LOVEGOLD. Does she not promise to make a good housewife?
FREDERICK. Oh! the best housewife upon earth.
LOVEGOLD. Might not a husband, think ye, live very easy and happy with her?
FREDERICK. Doubtless, sir.
LOVEGOLD. There is one thing I’m a little afraid of, that is, that she has not quite as much fortune as one might fairly expect.
FREDERICK. Oh, sir, consider her merit, and you may easily make an abatement in her fortune: for Heaven’s sake, sir, don’t let that prevent your design. Fortune is nothing in comparison with her beauty and merit.
LOVEGOLD. Pardon me there; however there may be some matters found, perhaps, to make up some little deficiency; and if you would, to oblige your father, retrench your extravagances on this occasion, perhaps the difference, in some time, might be made up.
FREDERICK. My dearest father, I’ll bid adieu to all extravagance for ever.
LOVEGOLD. Thou art a dutiful good boy: and since I find you have the same sentiments with me, provided she can but make out a pretty tolerable fortune, I am even resolved to marry her.
FREDERICK. Ha! you resolved to marry Mariana?
LOVEGOLD. Ay, to marry Mariana.
HARRIET. Who, you, — you, — you?
LOVEGOLD. Yes, I, I, I.
FREDERICK. I beg you will pardon me, sir; a sudden dizziness has seized me, and I must beg leave to retire.
SCENE VIII.
LOVEGOLD, HARRIET.
LOVEGOLD. This, daughter, is what I have resolved for myself; as for your brother, I have a certain widow in my eye for him; and you, my dear, shall marry our good neighbour, Mr. Spindle.
HARRIET. I marry Mr. Spindle!
LOVEGOLD. Yes; he is a prudent, wise man, not much above fifty, and has a great fortune in the funds.
HARRIET. I thank you, my dear papa, but I had rather not marry, if you please. [Curtsying.
LOVEGOLD [mimicking her curtsy]. I thank you, my good daughter, but I had rather you should marry him, if you please.
HARRIET. Pardon me, dear sir.
LOVEGOLD. Pardon me, dear madam.
HARRIET. Not all the fathers on earth shall force me to it.
LOVEGOLD. Did ever mortal hear a girl talk in this manner to her father?
HARRIET. Did ever father attempt to marry his daughter after such a manner? In short, sir, I have ever been obedient to you; but as this affair concerns my happiness only, and not yours, I hope you will give me leave to consult my own inclination.
LOVEGOLD. I would not have you provoke me; I am resolved upon the match.
SCENE IX.
LOVEGOLD, CLERMONT, HARRIET.
CLERMONT. Some people, sir, upon justice-business, desire to speak with your worship.
LOVEGOLD. I can attend to no business, this girl has so perplexed me. Hussy, you shall marry as I would have you, or —
CLERMONT. Forgive my interposing; dear sir, what’s the matter? Madam, let me intreat you not to put your father into a passion.
LOVEGOLD. Clermont, you are a prudent young fellow. Here’s a baggage of a daughter, who refuses the most advantageous match that ever was offered, both to her and to me. A man of a vast estate offers to take her without a portion.
CLERMONT. Without a portion! Consider, dear madam, can you refuse a gentleman who offers to take you without a portion?
LOVEGOLD. Ay, consider what that saves your father.
HARRIET. Yes, but I consider what I am to suffer.
CLERMONT. That’s true, indeed; you will think on that, sir. Though money be the first thing to be considered in all affairs of life, yet some little regard should be had in this case to inclination.
LOVEGOLD. Without a portion.
CLERMONT. You are in the right, sir; that decides the thing at once: and yet, I know there are people, who, on this occasion, object against a disparity of age and temper, which too often make the married state utterly miserable.
LOVEGOLD. Without a portion.
CLERMONT. Ah! there is no answering that. Who can oppose such a reason as that? And yet there are several parents, who study the inclinations of their children more than any other thing, that would by no means sacrifice them to interest; and who esteem, as the very first article of marriage, that happy union of affections, which is the foundation of every blessing attending on a married state — and who —
LOVEGOLD. Without a portion.
CLERMONT. Very true; that stops your mouth at once — Without a portion! Where is the person who can find an argument against that?
LOVEGOLD. Ha! is not that the barking of a dog? Some villains are in search of my money. Don’t stir from hence, I’ll return in an instant.
CLERMONT. My dearest Harriet, how shall I express the agony I am in on your account?
HARRIET. Be not too much alarmed, since you may depend on my resolution. It may be in the power of fortune to delay our happiness, but no power shall force me to destroy your hopes by any other match.
CLERMONT. Thou kindest, lovely creature.
LOVEGOLD. Thank Heaven, it was nothing but my fear.
CLERMONT. Yes, a daughter must obey her father; she is not to consider the shape, or the air, or the age of a husband; but when a man offers to take her without a portion, she is to have him, let him be what he will.
LOVEGOLD. Admirably well said, indeed.
CLERMONT. Madam, I ask your pardon if my love for yourself and
your family carries me a little too far. Be under no concern, I dare swear I shall bring her to it.
[To Lovegold.
LOVEGOLD. DO, do; I’ll go in and see what these people want with me. Give her a little more now, while she’s warm; you will be time enough to draw the warrant.