Scene V.
Marwood, Mellefont, Sara.
MELLEFONT.
Dearest Sara, I have the honour of introducing Lady Solmes to you; she is one of the members of my family to whom I feel myself most indebted.
MARWOOD.
I must beg your pardon, Madam, for taking the liberty of convincing myself with my own eyes of the happiness of a cousin, for whom I should wish the most perfect of women if the first moment had not at once convinced me, that he has found her already in you.
SARA.
Your ladyship does me too much honour! Such a compliment would have made me blush at any time, but now I would almost take it as concealed reproach, if I did not think that Lady Solmes is much too generous to let her superiority in virtue and wisdom be felt by an unhappy girl.
MARWOOD (coldly).
I should be inconsolable if you attributed to me any but the most friendly feelings towards you. (Aside.) She is good-looking.
MELLEFONT.
Would it be possible Madam, to remain indifferent to such beauty, such modesty? People say, it is true, that one charming woman rarely does another one justice, but this is to be taken only of those who are over-vain of their superiority, and on the other hand of those who are not conscious of possessing any superiority. How far are you both removed from this. (To Marwood, who stands in deep thought.) Is it not true, Madam, that my love has been anything but partial? Is it not true, that though I have said much to you in praise of my Sara, I have not said nearly so much as you yourself see? But why so thoughtful. (Aside to her.) You forget whom you represent.
MARWOOD.
May I say it? The admiration of your dear young lady led me to the contemplation of her fate. It touched me, that she should not enjoy the fruits of her love in her native land. I recollected that she had to leave a father, and a very affectionate father as I have been told, in order to become yours; and I could not but wish for her reconciliation with him.
SARA.
Ah, Madam! how much am I indebted to you for this wish. It encourages me to tell you the whole of my happiness. You cannot yet know, Mellefont, that this wish was granted before Lady Solmes had the kindness to wish it.
MELLEFONT.
How do you mean, Sara?
MARWOOD (aside).
How am I to interpret that?
SARA.
I have just received a letter from my father. Waitwell brought it to me. Ah, Mellefont, such a letter!
MELLEFONT.
Quick, relieve me from my uncertainty. What have I to fear? What have I to hope? Is he still the father from whom we fled? And if he is, will Sara be the daughter who loves me so tenderly as to fly again? Alas, had I but done as you wished, dearest Sara, we should now be united by a bond which no caprice could dissolve. I feel now all the misfortune which the discovery of our abode may bring upon me.--He will come and tear you out of my arms. How I hate the contemptible being who has betrayed us to him (with an angry glance at Marwood).
SARA.
Dearest Mellefont, how flattering to me is this uneasiness I And how happy are we both in that it is unnecessary. Read his letter! (To Marwood, whilst Mellefont reads the letter.) He will be astonished at the love of my father. Of my father? Ah, he is his now too.
MARWOOD (perplexed).
Is it possible?
SARA.
Yes, Madam, you have good cause to be surprised at this change. He forgives us everything; we shall now love each other before his eyes; he allows it, he commands it. How has this kindness gone to my very soul! Well, Mellefont? (who returns the letter to her). You are silent? Oh no, this tear which steals from your eye says far more than your lips could say.
MARWOOD (aside).
How I have injured my own cause. Imprudent woman that I was!
SARA.
Oh, let me kiss this tear from your cheek.
MELLEFONT.
Ah, Sara, why was it our fate to grieve such a godlike man? Yes, a godlike man, for what is more godlike than to forgive? Could we only have imagined such a happy issue possible, we should not now owe it to such violent means, we should owe it to our entreaties alone. What happiness is in store for me! But how painful also will be the conviction, that I am so unworthy of this happiness!
MARWOOD (aside).
And I must be present to hear this.
SARA.
How perfectly you justify my love by such thoughts.
MARWOOD (aside.)
What restraint must I put on myself!
SARA.
You too, Madam, must read my father's letter. You seem to take too great an interest in our fate to be indifferent to its contents.
MARWOOD.
Indifferent? (takes the letter).
SARA.
But, Madam, you still seem very thoughtful, very sad----
MARWOOD.
Thoughtful, but not sad!
MELLEFONT (aside).
Heavens! If she should betray herself!
SARA.
And why then thoughtful?
MARWOOD.
I tremble for you both. Could not this unforeseen kindness of your father be a dissimulation? An artifice?
SARA.
Assuredly not, Madam, assuredly not. Only read and you will admit it yourself. Dissimulation is always cold, it is not capable of such tender words. (Marwood reads.) Do not grow suspicious, Mellefont, I beg. I pledge myself that my father cannot condescend to an artifice. He says nothing which he does not think, falseness is a vice unknown to him.
MELLEFONT.
Oh, of that I am thoroughly convinced, dearest Sara! You must pardon Lady Solmes for this suspicion, since she does not know the man whom it concerns.
SARA (whilst Marwood returns the letter to her).
What do I see, my lady? You are pale! You tremble! What is the matter with you?
MELLEFONT (aside).
What anxiety I suffer? Why did I bring her here?
MARWOOD.
It is nothing but a slight dizziness, which will pass over. The night air on my journey must have disagreed with me.
MELLEFONT.
You frighten me! Would you not like to go into the air? You will recover sooner than in a close room.
MARWOOD.
If you think so, give me your arm!
SARA.
I will accompany your ladyship!
MARWOOD.
I beg you will not trouble to do so! My faintness will pass over immediately.
SARA.
I hope then, to see you again soon.
MARWOOD.
If you permit me (Mellefont conducts her out).
SARA (alone).
Poor thing! She does not seem exactly the most friendly of people; but yet she does not appear to be either proud or ill-tempered. I am alone again. Can I employ the few moments, while I remain so, better than by finishing my answer? (Is about to sit down to write.)
Scene VI.
Betty, Sara.
BETTY.
That was indeed a very short visit.
SARA.
Yes, Betty! It was Lady Solmes, a relation of my Mellefont. She was suddenly taken faint. Where is she now?
BETTY.
Mellefont has accompanied her to the door.
SARA.
She is gone again, then?
BETTY.
I suppose so. But the more I look at you--you must forgive my freedom, Miss--the more you seem to me to be altered. There is something calm, something contented in your looks. Either Lady Solmes must have been a very pleasant visitor, or the old man a very pleasant messenger.
SARA.
The latter, Betty, the latter! He came from my father. What a tender letter I have for you to read! Your kind heart has often wept with me, now it shall rejoice with me, too. I shall be happy again, and be able to reward you for your good services.
BETTY.
What services could I render you in nine short weeks?
SARA.
You could not have done more for me in all the rest of my life, than in these nine weeks. They are over! But come now with me, Betty. As Mellefont is probably alone again, I must speak to him. It just occurs to me that it would be well if he wrote at the same time to my father, to whom an expression of gratitude from him could hardly come unexpectedly. Come! (Exeunt.)