Enter SAM and MELVILLE.
Sam. Sir, that is my master.
Sir Per. Weel, sir, what is your urgent business with me?
Mel. To shun disgrace, and punish baseness.
Sir Per. Punish baseness! what does the fellow mean? Wha are you, sir?
Mel. A man, sir—and one, whose fortune once bore as proud a sway as any within this county's limits.
Lord Lum. You seem to be a soldier, sir.
Mel. I was, sir; and have the soldier's certificate to prove my service—rags and scars. In my heart, for ten long years in India's parching clime I bore my country's cause; and in noblest dangers sustained it with my sword: at length ungrateful peace has laid me down where welcome war first took me up,—in poverty, and the dread of cruel creditors.—Paternal affection brought me to my native land, in quest of an only child:—I found her, as I thought, amiable as parental fondness could desire; but lust and foul seduction have snatched her from me, and hither am I come, fraught with a father's anger, and a soldier's honour, to seek the seducer and glut revenge.
Lady Mac. Pray, sir, who is your daughter?
Mel. I blush to own her—but—Constantia.