Ab. Gr. My heart sinks within me—but mark me. You may remember I was not always what now I seem to be. I yesterday received intelligence which, but for this discovery, had shed a gleam of joy over my remaining days. As it is, should your husband prove the villain I suspect him, that intelligence will afford me an opportunity to resume a character in life which shall make this monster lord tremble. The wrongs of Abel Grouse, the poor but upright man, might have been pleaded in vain to him, but as I shall soon appear, it shall go hard but I will make the great man shrink before me, even in his plenitude of pride and power.
Fanny. You terrify me, sir, indeed you do.
Ab. Gr. And so I would. I would prepare you for the worst that may befal us: for should this man, this lord, who calls himself your husband—
Fanny. Dearest father, what can you mean? Who calls himself my husband! He is my husband.
Ab. Gr. If he is your husband, how does he dare to pay his addresses, as he now publicly does, to the daughter of sir Willoughby Worret, our neighbour. I may be mistaken. I’m in the midst here of old acquaintances, though in this guise they know me not. They shall soon see me amongst them. Not a word of this, I charge you. Come girl, this lord shall own you. If he does not, we will seek a remedy in those laws which are at once the best guardians of our rights and the surest avengers of our wrongs. [Exeunt.
[SCENE II.]—A parlour in sir W. Worret’s house. The breakfast prepared, urn, &c. Sir Willoughby reading the newspaper. He rises and rings the bell; then pulls out his watch.
Sir W. Three quarters of an hour since breakfast was first announced to my wife. My patience is exhausted. Oh wedlock, wedlock! why did I ever venture again into thy holy state—of misery! Of all the taxes laid on mankind by respect to society and the influence of example, no one is so burthensome as that which obliges a man to submit to a thousand ills at home, rather than be suspected of being a bad husband abroad. (enter servant) Go to your lady.
Serv. I told her ladyship five times before, sir Willoughby, that breakfast was waiting.
Sir W. Then tell her once more, and that will make six, and say I earnestly request the favour she will hasten to breakfast, as while she stays I starve.
Serv. Yes, sir Willoughby, but she’ll stop the longer for the message. (Aside going out.) [Exit.