Sir W. Lady Worret, lady Worret, you are too abrupt, od-rabbit it, madam, I will be heard: this affair concerns the honor of my family, and on this one occasion, I will be my own spokesman.
Lady W. Oh heavens! Your violence affects my brain.
Sir W. Does it? I wish it would affect your tongue, with all my heart: bless my soul, what have I said! Lady Worret! lady Worret! you drive me out of my senses, and then wonder that I act like a madman.
Lady W. Barbarous man, your cruelty will break my heart, and I shall leave you, sir Willoughby, to deplore my loss, in unavailing despair, and everlasting anguish. [Exit.
Sir W. (aside) I am afraid not: such despair and anguish will never be my—happy—lot!—bless me, how quiet the room is—what can be—oh, my wife’s gone! now then we may proceed to business—and so daughter, this young fellow, Charles, has dared to return, in direct disobedience to his father’s commands.
Helen. I had better confess it all at once—he has, he has, my dear papa. I do confess it was very, very wrong; but pray now do forgive—
Sir W. I—forgive him! never; nor his father will never forgive him; sir Rowland writes me here, to take care of you; I have before given him my solemn promise to prevent your meeting, and I am sorry to say, I haven’t the least doubt that you know he is here, and will—
Helen. I do confess, he is here, papa.
Sir W. Yes, you’ll confess it fast enough, now I’ve found it out.
Helen. Indeed I was so afraid you would find it out, that I——