Cliff. We'll share it, and forget it here.
[Embraces.
Lord G. Why did you keep the secret from me?
Cliff. I knew it not myself, till the strange concurrence of circumstances, to which you were in part witness a few hours since, brought it to light. I meant to impart to you the discovery, when my temper took fire—Let us bury our mutual errors in the thought, that we now for life are friends.
Lord G. Brothers, Clifford—Let us interchange that title, and doubly, doubly ratify it. Unite me to your charming sister; accept the hand of Lady Emily in return—her heart I have discovered to be yours——We'll leave the world to the sordid and the tasteless; let an Alscrip, or a Sir Clement Flint, wander after the phantom of happiness, we shall find her real retreat, and hold her by the bonds she covets, virtue, love, and friendship.
Cliff. Not a word more, my lord, the bars against your proposal are insuperable.
Lord G. What bars?
Cliff. Honour! Propriety—and pride.
Lord G. Pride, Clifford!
Cliff. Yes, my lord; Harriet Clifford shall not steal the hand of a prince; nor will I—though doting on Lady Emily with a passion like your own, bear the idea of a clandestine union in a family, to whom I am bound by obligation and trust. Indeed, my lord, without Sir Clement's consent, you must think no more of my sister.