Sir Philip. Where's your worthy father?
Handy, jun. As usual, full of contrivances that are impracticable, and improvements that are retrograde; forming, altogether, a whimsical instance of the confusion of arrangement, the delay of expedition, the incommodiousness of accommodation, and the infernal trouble of endeavouring to save it—he has now a score or two of workmen about him, and intends pulling down some apartments in the east wing of the Castle.
Sir Philip. Ah! ruin!—Within there!—Fly to Sir Abel Handy—Tell him to desist! order his people, on the peril of their lives, to leave the Castle instantly! Away!
Handy, jun. Sir Philip Blandford, your conduct compels me to be serious.
Sir Philip. Oh, forbear! forbear!
Handy, jun. Excuse me, sir,—an alliance, it seems, is intended between our families, founded on ambition and interest. I wish it, sir, to be formed on a nobler basis, ingenuous friendship and mutual confidence. That confidence being withheld, I must here pause; for I should hesitate in calling that man father, who refuses me the name of friend.
Sir Philip. [Aside.] Ah! how shall I act?
Handy, jun. Is my demand unreasonable?
Sir Philip. Strictly just—But oh!—you know not what you ask—Do you not pity me?
Handy, jun. I do.