Thornton. Here?
Charity. Ay, here! You threw me from the scent with your story of his utter degradation. I never dreamed the silly fly was ensnared in the gilded web. Give him back to the friends who mourn for him, and, spite my wrongs, all shall be forgotten.
Thornton. You ask too much: you see he is not here. You have been misinformed: for once the shrewd angel of mercy has been deceived.
Charity. Indeed! Perhaps another may be more successful—Jessie! (Enter from r., hurriedly, Jessie.)
Jessie. Have you found him? Speak! in mercy, speak!
Charity (putting her arm about Jessie). Be calm, my child: there is the man who holds him in his power,—Robert Thornton.
Jessie. Mr. Thornton? No, no, it cannot be! (Falls on her knees to him.) If you know where he is, if you can give him back to his father, to me, I will bless you.
Thornton. You are mistaken, Jessie; I cannot give him back. You know how much I loved him. Think you, if it were in my power, I would refuse the request of the only woman I truly loved?
Jessie. Oh, this is mockery! (Rises, and goes to Charity, who folds her in her arms.)