The Heiress; a comedy, in five acts. Burgoyne John

Sagely. Who are you, sir? What are you looking for?

      Prompt. Madam, I was looking – I was looking – for you.

      Mrs. Sagely. Well, sir, and what do you want.

      Prompt. [Still prying about.] Madam, I want – I want – I want —

      Mrs. Sagely. To rob the house, perhaps.

      Prompt. Just the contrary, Madam – to see that all is safe within it. – You have a treasure in your possession that I would not have lost for the world – A young lady.

      Mrs. Sagely. Indeed! – begone about your business, friend – there are no young ladies to be spoke with here.

      Prompt. Lord, madam, I don't desire to speak with her – My attentions go to ladies of the elder sort – I come to make proposals to you alone.

      Mrs. Sagely. You make proposals to me? Did you know my late husband, sir?

      Prompt. Husband! My good Mrs. Sagely – be at ease – I have no more views upon you, that way, than upon my grandmother – My proposals are of a quite different nature.

       Mrs. Sagely. Of a different nature? Why you audacious varlet! Here, call a constable —

      Prompt. Dear madam, how you continue to misunderstand me – I have a respect for you, that will set at nought all the personal temptations about you, depend upon it, powerful as they are – And as for the young lady, my purpose is only that you shall guard her safe. – I would offer you a pretty snug house in a pleasant quarter of the town, where you two would be much more commodiously lodged – the furniture new, and in the prettiest taste – A neat little sideboard of plate – a black boy, with a turban to wait upon you —

      Mrs. Sagely. And for what purpose am I to be bribed? I am above it, sirrah. I have but a pittance, 'tis true, and heavy outgoings – My husband's decayed bookkeeper to maintain, and poor old Smiler, that so many years together drew our whole family in a chaise – Heavy charges – but by cutting off my luxuries, and stopping up a few windows, I can jog on, and scorn to be beholden to you, or him that sent you. [Prompt tries at the Door, and peeps through the Key-hole.] What would the impertinent fellow be at now? Keep the door bolted, and don't stand in sight.

      Prompt. [Aside.] Oh! oh! – She is here I find, and that's enough. – My good Mrs. Sagely – your humble servant – I would fain be better acquainted with you – in a modest way – but must wait, I see, a more happy hour. [Aside, going out.] When honesty and poverty do happen to meet, they grow so fond of each other's company, it is labour lost to try to separate them.

[Exit.

      Mrs. Sagely. Shut the street door after him, and never let him in again.

Enter Miss Alton, from the inner Room

      Miss Alton. For mercy, madam, let me begone immediately. I am very uneasy – I am certain Mr. Heartly is at the bottom of this.

      Mrs. Sagely. I believe it, my dear, and now see the necessity of your removal. I'll write your letter – and Heaven protect you. Remember my warning, suspect yourself.

[Exit.

      Miss Alton. In truth I will. I'll forget the forbearance of this profligate, and remember only his intentions. And is gratitude then suspicious? Painful lesson! A woman must not think herself secure because she has no bad impulse to fear: she must be upon her guard, lest her very best should betray her.

      ACT THE SECOND

      SCENE I

      An Apartment in Sir Clement Flint's House.

      Lady Emily Gayville and Clifford at Chess.

      Sir Clement sitting at a Distance, pretending to read a Parchment, but slily observing them.

      Lady E. Check – If you do not take care, you are gone the next move.

      Cliff. I confess, Lady Emily, you are on the point of complete victory.

       Lady E. Pooh, I would not give a farthing for victory without a more spirited defence.

      Cliff. Then you must engage with those (if those there are) that do not find you irresistible.

      Lady E. I could find a thousand such; but I'll engage with none whose triumph I could not submit to with pleasure.

      Sir C. [Apart.] Pretty significant on both sides. I wonder how much farther it will go.

      Lady E. Uncle, did you speak?

      Sir C. [Reading to himself.] "And the parties to this indenture do farther covenant and agree, that all and every the said lands, tenements, and hereditaments – um – um." – How useful sometimes is ambiguity.

[Loud enough to be heard.

      Cliff. A very natural observation of Sir Clement's upon that long parchment.

[Pauses again upon the Chess-board.

[Lady Emily looking pensively at his Face.

      Cliff. To what a dilemma have you reduced me, Lady Emily! If I advance, I perish by my temerity; and it is out of my power to retreat.

      Sir C. [Apart.] Better and better! To talk in cipher is a curious faculty.

      Cliff. Sir?

      Sir C. [Still reading.] "In witness whereof the said parties have hereunto interchangeably set their hands and seals, this – um – um – day of – um – um – ."

      Lady E. [Resuming an Air of Vivacity.] Come, I trifle with you too long – There's your coup de grace – Uncle, I have conquered.

[Both rising from the Table.

      Sir C. Niece, I do not doubt it – and in the style of the great proficients, without looking upon the board. Clifford, was not your mother's name Charlton?

[Folding up the Parchment, and rising.

      Cliff. It was, sir.

       Sir C. In looking over the writings Alscrip has sent me, preparatory to his daughter's settlement, I find mention of a conveyance from a Sir William Charlton, of Devonshire. Was he a relation?

      Cliff. My grandfather, sir: The plunder of his fortune was one of the first materials for raising that of Mr. Alscrip, who was steward to Sir William's estate, then manager of his difficulties, and lastly his sole creditor.

      Sir C. And no better monopoly than that of a needy man's distresses. Alscrip has had twenty such, or I should not have singled out his daughter to be Lord Gayville's wife.

      Cliff. It is a compensation for my family losses, that in the event they will conduce to the interest of the man I most love.

      Sir C. Heyday, Clifford! – take care – don't trench upon the Blandish – Your cue, you know, is sincerity.

      Cliff. You seem to think, sir, there is no such quality. I doubt whether you believe there is an honest man in the world.

      Sir C. You do me great injustice – several – several – and upon the old principle that – "honesty is the best policy." – Self-interest is the great end of life, says human nature – Honesty is a better agent than craft, says proverb.

      Cliff. But as for ingenuous, or purely disinterested motives —

      Sir C. Clifford, do you mean to laugh at me?

      Cliff. What is your opinion, Lady Emily?

      Lady E. [Endeavouring again at Vivacity.] That there may be such: but it's odds they are troublesome or insipid. Pure ingenuousness, I take it, is a rugged sort of thing, which scarcely will bear the polish of common civility; and for disinterestedness – young people sometimes set out with it; but it is like travelling upon a broken spring – one is glad to get it mended at the next stage.

       Sir C. Emily, I protest