Henry. He approaches! why this agitation? I wish, yet dread, to meet him.
Enter Sir Philip and Miss Blandford, attended.
Miss B. The joy your tenantry display at seeing you again must be truly grateful to you.
Sir Philip. No, my child; for I feel I do not merit it. Alas! I can see no orphans clothed with my beneficence, no anguish assuaged by my care.
Miss B. Then I am sure my dear father wishes to show his kind intentions. So I will begin by placing one under his protection [Goes up the stage, and leads down Henry. Sir Philip, on seeing him, starts, then becomes greatly agitated.]
Sir Philip. Ah! do my eyes deceive me! No, it must be him! Such was the face his father wore.
Henry. Spake you of my father?
Sir Philip. His presence brings back recollections, which drive me to madness!—How came he here?—Who have I to curse for this?
Miss B. [Falling on his neck.] Your daughter.
Henry. Oh sir! tell me—on my knees I ask it! do my parents live! Bless me with my father's name, and my days shall pass in active gratitude—my nights in prayers for you. [Sir Philip views him with severe contempt.] Do not mock my misery! Have you a heart?