A Trip to Scarborough; and, The Critic

by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

SON.
I do.

JUSTICE.
No orphan, nor without a friend art thou—I am thy father; here’s thy mother; there Thy uncle—this thy first cousin, and those are all your near relations!

JUSTICE’S LADY.
O ecstasy of bliss!

SON.
O most unlook’d for happiness!

JUSTICE.
O wonderful event! [They faint alternately in each other’s arms.]

PUFF.
There, you see, relationship, like murder, will out.

JUSTICE.
Now let’s revive—else were this joy too much! But come—and we’ll unfold the rest within; And thou, my boy, must needs want rest and food. Hence may each orphan hope, as chance directs, To find a father—where he least expects! [Exeunt.]

PUFF.
What do you think of that?

DANGLE.
One of the finest discovery-scenes I ever saw!—Why, this under-plot would have made a tragedy itself.

SNEER.
Ay! or a comedy either.