O’Ded. Traitor back again into your teeth, my master! and since you’ve neither pity for the poor innocent, nor compassion for the little blunt gentleman her father, ’tis time to spake out and to tell you that instead of a sham priest and a sham license for your deceitful marriage as you bid me, I have sarved the cause of innocence and my own soul, by procuring a real priest and a real license, and by St. Patrick you are as much one as any two people in England, Ireland, or Scotland!
Fanny. Merciful powers! there is still justice for the unfortunate!
Lord A. (after a conflict of passion.) And is this really so?
O’Ded. You’re man and wife, sure enough. We’ve decent proof of this, too, sir.
Lord A. You no doubt expect this intelligence will exasperate me. ’Tis the reverse. By heaven it lifts a load of guilty wretchedness from my heart.
Fanny. Oh, my lord! my husband!
Falk. Can this be genuine? Sudden reformation is ever doubtful.
Lord A. It is real! my errors have been the fruits of an unbridled education. Ambition dazzled me, and wealth was my idol. I have acted like a villain, and as my conduct has deserved no forgiveness, so will my degradation be seen without compassion; but this weight of guilt removed, I will seek happiness and virtue in the arms of my much-injured Fanny.
Fanny. Silent joy is the most heartfelt. I cannot speak my happiness! My father!
Falk. This is beyond my hopes; but adversity is a salutary monitor.