Douglas. Love that fool! I do not believe it. You are too sensible a girl, Mary. No, no. When you are my wife, this idle folly will be but a dream.
Mary. Yes, when I am your wife! And if I keep my promise, my brother—
Douglas. Shall not be molested. More, I will befriend him, and place him in a good position.
Mary. Indeed! So I am to save my brother at the cost of my love! Henry Douglas, the trick is worthy of you; but it shall not move me. I love my brother, Heaven knows; but not even to save him from prison would I marry one who has suffered at his hands, by consenting to become your wife.
Douglas. I have done. Justice must take its course. Nay, I will not be conquered by so mean a foe. Your father, your father, Mary, he shall decide whom he will accept as his daughter’s husband,—I, rich, accomplished, of good family, or that low, gawky clown.
Mary. Silence! He is a brave, noble, true man, who would scorn to stoop to the petty tricks of the rich and accomplished Henry Douglas. Let my father decide. I care not. Every threat you utter but strengthens my resolution. Do your worst. From your arms I would fly to his, though I knew poverty and toil should be our portion.
Douglas. As you please. But I shall not release you, Mary Nutter. My wife you shall, you must be. You’ve a stubborn father and a stubborn lover to fight. Arm yourself, Mary; you will need all your strength, and then—I shall win. Good night. (Exit, C.)
Mary. Ah, while there is life there is hope, even in a bad cause. (Turns, and sees Ned looking at her.) Why, Ned, you awake?
Ned. Yes, Mary. I have heard all.
Mary. What! No, no, Ned, not all!