c^^c vc: :S> A*xr ^ 5« <:<3r ^ ccc %sKSSS^^^'^^^ ^x:lt Timothy. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 23 {Enter Julia.) My dear girl, welcome back ! — Well all quiet there ? {Pointing to Julia's heart.') Eh! were you not dazzled with the splendid emanation of his Lordship's diplomatic fame ? " Julia, His politeness was extreme. " Mrs. Fer. Oh 1 that's all. " Julia. The compliments he paid me were de- licate ; but so cold — - '' Mrs. Fer. As to convince you that his heart " and understanding were at tHat moment em- " ployed on some foreign embassy. — Well, my " love, and is the happy day fixed ?" Julia. {Bursting into tears) O madam ! Mrs. Fer. My sweet girl 1 pardon me ; I am shocked at my levity- — But, tell me, does this pro- jected aUiance render you miserable ? Julia. Oh ! truly so. Mrs. Ftr. I have not the honour of his Lord- ship's acquaintance, but am convinced he never will press the fulfilment of an ergagment which would entai' misery on one so lovely and amiable. Julia, [With vivacity,) Do you think so ? — Ah ! but then my father is determined. 3Irs. Fer. And are you determined to obey? • Julia. You know, madam, I must obey my fa- ther, as much as if he were my husband. Mrs. Fer. Umph I Why, as much as that per- haps you may ; but there are instances, my love, where even husbands are not always obey'd. Enter Timothy. Tim. My master, madam, insists on it you come- to him. Mrs. Fer, I cannot come — Pm engaged — say so. (Exit Timothy.) Ha ! ha ! rather aa ant illus- tration. — S4 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. juUa. Govern a husband I Mrs, Fer. Yes. Julia, But how is it done ? Mrs* Fer, What a question 1 — of course hy the tongue. yulid. Ha! ha! I have heard, indeed, that its voluble exertion will achieve — Mrs. Fer. Nothing, positively nothing ; — on the contrary, I maintain that its flexibility is the grand course of female subjugation. — Words, my love, give animation to the contest ; there's blow for blow, and, the weapon not being fatal, victory is seldom obtained — -but, to sulen inveterate silence what can Be opposed? — My motto is — • Be dumb, and conquer. Julia. I wonder, then, silence is not more prac- tised. Mrs. Fer. Oh ! my dear child, 'tis very difficult — even, I, anxious, of course, for the honour of my system, can hardly keep my tongue quiet — I do so long to prattle that, upon my honour, I am forced sometimes to give it a bite. Julia. Ha! ha! Mrs. Fer, My dear young friend ! I don't mean to make a rebel of you ; but if you honour us with your company a few days, I think you will be con- vinced that a woman may sometimes govern with propriety. — \Tim. (Speaks in the house.) Yes, Sir — she's in the garden.] — Ah! here he comes! Fly, my love, fly — for it would be cruel in me to allow you to anticipate the joys of matrimony. — Now for a duet, which I fear will be distinguished rather bv its spirit than Its harmony, and will probably end in a solo by my dear crazy husband. — Pursue this walk, and 1 11 come to you presently — look here — this way. \ExeunU THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 2^ Fei\ (Without. J You are sure she's here.-— Timothy, (Without, J Yes, Sir. FERMENT enters from the House — Papers in his Hand— others sticking out of his Pocket — Timo- TiiY follows. Per. So, madam, I must come to you*— must I ? — ^ Why did you say my wife was here ? Tim. Why, Sir, I sure she was — if you'll allow me, Sir, only to — Per, Don't be tedious. Tim, Sir, I only — Per, Blockhead ! don't you know you address a man of penetration and talents ? Tim, I'm sure I ought to know, for you have told me so a hundred times — There's a man in the hall waiting for you — 'tis — Per, I know who it is — 'tis the churchwarden. Tim, No, Sir, it is not ; 'tis — > Per, I know it is Mr. Visto, the author of the picturesque and beautiful — Tim, No, Sir, it is not the picturesque and beautiful gentleman — ^'tis Dr. Oxygen, the man that cures folks by giving them airs to drink — » Per. True, Timothy ; and I mean to be his pa- tient. — Tim, Don't, Sir. — Lord, Fm sure you can give yourself airs plenty. — Per. Silence 1 — Give the doctor this certificate of cures. Tim, Yes, Sir — (Reading and going,) — Mor- tality bill for the year — Per, You stupid rascal 1 you have got the wrong paper. Tim, Yes, Sir — I ax pardon for your giving it me — (Mrs. Perment appears again, J — Sir, here IS'— 26 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Fer. I know — 'tis my wife. ( Timothy S7naaks his hands together.) What did you mean by that ? Ti7n. I'll be shot if for once you have not guess- ed right. — Fer. For once guessed right ! — begone ! — (Exit Timothy.]. — What a misfortune to possess talents, penetration, foreknowledge, and be surrounded by a parcel of ignorant — Mrs, Fer. hem !— Fer. I think, madam, you might have attended my summons a little sooner. — fShe shakes her head.) — Aye, that means no 1 CShe nods, J Ah, that means yes ! — but why not say so ? — damn it, there can't be much trouble in saying — yes — {She smiles) — Ah, my dear wife 1 never shall I for- get what you said last July was a twelvemonth. — You said, and 1 thought it the music of the spheres, that nothing was so delicious as a congenial inter- change of sentiment. Mrs. Fer, I think so still. Fer. She speaks — now for a charming prattle-*- yciu think so still ? 3Irs, Fer. Yes, my dear ; and provided you talk reasonabi) — Fer. Certainly. Mrs. Fer. And don't contradict — Fer. I never do — there I must contradict you— - Now tell me, when did I ever contradict my dear wife ? — This is delightful, ' the feast of reason ' and the flow of soul.' Well, how go on the im- provements ? — Now here, for instance — (Look* ing towards the audience J — -the hohouse — charm- ing, is it not? — rhe choicest gems of nature nur- tured by the refined hand of art, lovely to behold, but difficult to collect them — the beauties seem rather crowded though — THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 2r 3Irs. Fei\ I should be very sorry to part with one of them. Ftr. I don't wonder at it. — That approach to the left is infernal — we must plant laurels by thou- sand?. — . Mrs, Fer, Why, indeed, the planting of laurels becomes rather a necessary duty, when so many of our gallant countrymen are determined to gaiher them. — Fer. Oh ! prett}% pretty ! Mrs* Fer, But instead of laurel-trees, bay-trees, or pedigree-trees, I could mention a tree that I fear, husband, you will never cultivate — and yet it is the parent stock from which these scions proudly flourish. Fer. Indeed I Mrs. Fer. It is called, my dear, the tree of in- dustry ; — its soil is liberty — its root is integrity — its stem is independence — its branches are benevo- lence — its blossoms are honours — and its fruit — a plum. Fer. How she talks ! But you like this plan of pulling down the house — putting a hundred acres under water ? — Mrs. Fer. No. Fer. Why, my love ? explain in full — be ample, my darling. Mrs. Fer. Because we cannot afford the ex- pence — indeed, my dear George, if you would turn your attention to the means of increasing our fortune instead of diminishing it — rconsider our children. >Fcr. Oh bless you, my very thoughts — that's sympathy — what I call nuptials of the soul.— Sit down, my darling Fanny ? I've such a plan I You know, my love, that my relative Miss Tar- ragan is about to be married to Lord Avondale. 58 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. (She 7iods\J Nay, hang it, don't do that I — Clml^ fating, J — as the man says in the play, ' If thou canst nod, speak too.' Mrs, Fer, Very well. Fer, Then I shall be introduced.— Mm, Fer, Very well. — Ft r. You know I'm a devilish clever fellow, — - 3Irs, Fer, No, I don't. Fer, Yes, you do — and Lord Avondale is a first rate — a monstrous great gun. — Now his inter- est, backed by a few thousands, for which we could mortgage our estate — {She shews symp^ ioms of discontent) — would obtain me a seat in a certain assembly, which, with my talents, would lead to (^pause.) — Eh ! — now what do you say ? it would lead to — (^pause.) — Dumb again 1 — (She turns her chair from him, and looks at an ornament suspended at her breast,) — That's my hair in the locket, is not it ? (Joud) — Don't you hear ? (pause, greatly irritated,) Allow me, madam, to ask you one question, which is, — What the devil's the use, when I can't get an answer ? — You are a scandal to your sex, do you hear that ? I'll be divorced- — 'tis a new case. — I'll be divorced, I tell you. Now what have you to say to that ! eh ? (pause) Block- head 1 to explain my grand designs to such a nin- ny — I've done with you. Fnter Timothy, zvlio whispers Mrs, Yeruest* Mrs, Fer, Very well — V \ come — Fer, Eh ? — very — what did you say, my dear ^ — What do you want. Sir? Tim, Mr mistress will inform you, Sir. [Exit, Fer. W ill she ? Well, if she will I shall be much obliged — (Exit Mrs, Ferment into th*^ house.) -—Gone • Oh I sha)l go mad 1 — I wish I could hate her. — Now must I abandon aU my delicious IHE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 29 plans, or I shall never get another word from her "-^(Jistens) — She's coming back : oh ho I she re- lents — now I must manage this in my best manner —I won't condescend to look at her.— - (Enter GeneralT ARR^GAyi.y So, you've thought proper to return-pretty time to quarrel indeed, as if I should not have plague enough vvidi that old absurd General I Sit down— - I must let you into his character ; you don't know him — I do — (General seats himself.) — He talks devilishly about fighting, but I have my doubts— a word in your ear — (Turning roundy sees Gene" ral Tarragan.) Gen. And a word in yours — joxx may satisfy your doubts directly. Fer. (Stammerings and affecting to laugh.) Dev. ilish comical, was not it ? — I thought it was my wife ; and it is very hard that a man can't say what he pleases to his own wife — Ha ! ha ! — you. don't dislike a joke, my dear General? Gen, Not if it's a good one — ^but I can't say much for yours. Fer, Indeed I — then say no more about it. (Apart,) Well parried. — Did you meet my wife ^ Gen. Yes — a very fine woman — ptrhaps you don't think so ? Ferk Oh yes, I do—.! adore her ; but — — . Ge?i. But — ah ! there's aiwavs a but. Fer, Did she speak a little to you I Ge7i, Certainly. Fer, Happy fellow 1 Gen, Oh 1 what she's apt to speak too much to you ? Fer, No ; damn it ! she won't speak at all — > My dear cousin, considering how very it\Y silent c 2 30 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. wives there are, 'tis devilish hard that I should be cursed with a dummy. — Gen, Why, I own your case is singular ; but I'll give you a bit of advice, I have often received advice from vou — Fer. You have been so fortunate. Gen, And bad enough it was. Fer. Nay, don't say that. * Gen. Well, I won't j but it was very bad. — Fer, That is not fair. Gen, I own it is not — but damned bad it was^ to be sure. Fer, Nay. Gen. Well, tell me — does she ever talk I Fer, Oh, yes, sometimes ! Gen, Then mark— when she's inclined, don't let her. Fer, Not let her 1 'tis my delight — ^the solace of Gen, Never mind ; when she begins do you thunder, gabble away, never stop «— -How are your lungs? Fer, Pretty well. Gen, Don't give it up — Suppose you go and re- hearse — the water mill's going — very pretty dou- ble for a lady's prattle. Fer. But, my dear General, when am I to be introduced to the Peer?— -I pant forlhe interview ■^ — ^the public ought and shall benefit by my pow- ers. I mean to get into Parliament Qn a hud xvhif>per). Gen. Why, you'll have no want of conversation there. — • Fer, True ; and married men make the best members — ^hey bear contradiction w^ith a good grace— never in a hurry to call for the question. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 5f and get home — so — But you must own that my advice never did you any harm. Ge?u Wei!, I own it never did ; for, to say the truth, friend Ferm.ent, damme if I ever took it. [Exeunt^ SCENE III. — An Apartment in Avondak Castle. Enter Lord Avondale ; he pauses^ then proceeds to the opposite Door and opens it. Enter from it Tyke. Lord Avon. Come hither — How is this, Rob' ert ? When I left England you were a youth, ■whose example was pointed out as an object ot imitation — your morals were pure, your industry ' exemplary— -how is it then that I now see you an abandoned outcast ? Tyke. Ah, Sur, it was all along w^e* you. Lord Avon. Me 1 was not my bounty ample ? did I not give you independence ? Tijke. Ah, that was it — when you sent me that little child to take care on — Lord Avon, Hush ! Tyke. Well, well ; — and that big lump of mo- ney ! you see, as I had not worked for it, it made made me quite fidgetty ; I always had my hand in my pocket, scrummelling it about hke — so, as all Yorkshire lads like galloping horses, I bought one, and took't to races, up at our country side— - and, ecod ! I pulled stuff into my hat as clean as nine-pence. Oh, ho 1 says I, VYi make short work o'this ; I'll go to Newmarket, where the Lords do bi ing their cattle, and settle matters in a hurry. So I went, and mighty pleased I was ; for the Jockey Lords called me Squire, you see — 32 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM and clapping me en the back in this manner, says, Squire, your horse will beat every thing I Lord Avon, Indeed I Tyke, Yes, yes — that was pleasant enough ; but, unluckily, the Jockey Lords told me a damn- ed hei;p o'lies ; for ma horse always cam in lag- last. — Then told ma to .hedge ; but it was not the hedging I had been used to and somehow I got intid ditch like. — So what with that and play- ing cards at Lambs skinn'ings (for, bless you, I could not catch them at Snitchums) I was — Lord Avon, Ruined. Tyke, Yes ; as Jockey Lords said — complete- ly cleaned out. Lcrd Avon.J^'id you not return to honest labour ? Tijke, Oh, no, I could not — my hands had got soft and smooth, and I had a ring girt about my finger : no, I could not tak to work.-— Lord Avon, Go on». Tyke, Why, as I could stay there no longer, I thought it would not be a bad plan to go away — so I went intid stable, and, would you believe it t the horse that beat mine sometimes coax*d, and contrived to get me on his back like — and, ecod I galloppedoffwi'mea matter of a hundred miles. — I thought no more about it myself — Lord Avon. But they did. Tyke, Yes, dom them, and were very cross indeed ; for they put me intid castle, and tried me at sizes. Lord Avon. What could you say to avert your fate ? Tz/y^e. Why, I told the Judge — says I, M> Lord, I hope you'll excuse my not being used to this kind of tackle — exchange is no robbery — mistakes of this kind will happen — but, I assure you I've kept the best company we' Jockey Lords, and THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 33 Such like as yourself. — So they all smiled, as much as to say, he's one of us like — .and I thought all was right enough ; — but the Judge puts him on a black cap, and, without saying with your leave, or any thing, orders me to be hanged 1 — Lord Avon, Poor wretch I Tyke, Don't you be frightened ; they did not hang ma' mum — dont'e believe that ; no, bless you they sent ma' to Botany Bay for fourteen years. Lord Avon, Where, I hope, you remained, re- signed to your fate. Tyke. Oh ! quite resigned — for I could not get away : — I dare say I tried a hundred times. Lord Avon. Why did not I know this l — Had you sent to my house — Tyke, I did send to your house. Lord Avon, Well ! Tyke, Why, they wrote word, I think, that you had been called up to t'other house — but then I did not know where that was — -and that you was sent abroad by government : — I was sorry to hear that, because I knew what that was by m} self like < — not that it suprised me, because I heard of your always being at Cockpit^ and I guessed what that would end in. Lord Avon. Pshaw 1 — Come hither ; tell me^ — I dread to ask it- — that child- — where — hush I we are interrupted — retire into that room. Tyke, Certairly ; oh, you'll find me quite an agreeable companion like. — There seems some varry pratty ciothes of yours in that room. — I should not wonder at all if one of them coats would fit mc — for we're a good deal alike as to person and manner, I think.— Lord Avon, Well, well — go in, go in. [Eo(it Tyke, 34 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. {Enter Frederick.) Frederick, welcome 1 — you must execute a com- mission for me. Look here, this is my portrait, painted many years since ; present it to my lovely bride — Why do you start I Fred, My Lord, I am ill suited to the task. Lord Avon, By no means, T his marriage, Fre^ derick, is of the highest import to my happiness and honour. — The claims made on the purse of him who boasts the people's favour, few fortunes can uphold— -mine has sunk beneath them ; and, but for this wealthy ahiance, obloquy might foully spot the proud name of Avondale ; — therefore, good Frederick you must be my advocate. Fred, What 1 — I plead another's passion !(<7/?ar^) Indeed, my Lord, I shall disgrace your cause. Lord Avon, Is it then much to praise a friend, who perhaps has merited your praise I Fred, Oh no ! (taking the ticturp) ; on that theme doubt not my zeal. — I flv to know my duty. {Goings retiirnii.J I had forgot — General Tarra- gan begs a lew minutes conversation. It seems, as well as I can recoUect fron?. his discourse, that he has conducted to England a Mr? . St. Clair, iu whose cause he wishes to interest vour Lordship. L'^rd Avon, She may command my services : how are ihey to be directed f Fred, She wishes, as I understand, to institute an enquiry respecting the child of a deceased friend, a Mrs. Radnor. Lord Avon, (Storting,) Radnor I Fred, It is your Lordship's family name. Lord Avon, (Enbarassed.) Yes ; that occa- sioned my surprise — Where did the General meet thisjady ? THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 35 Fred. On the confines of Spain ; — She resided many years in the convent where Mrs. Radnor died. Lord Avon, Died I C Seems in thought.) Fred, Shall he attend you here ? Lord Avon. Yes; no. — Fred. He means to publish the particulars, and offer a large reward. — Lord Avjn. (With energy, J Not for the world ! • — ( recovering. J— xh^it is, I would not advise it. Bring me to him hold — is he alone ? Fred, He is attended by Mr. Ferment, your neighbour. Lord Avon. Ferment I I know him not ; I must see him alone — tell him so, good Frederick. Fred, He will be rejoiced to hear how much your Lordship is interested in the cause of his fair friend. Lord Avon. I am interested — fExit Frederick. J —oh, deeply interested. — Should it be so, what follows .^— ruin, shame, dishonour — Oh, guilt ! guilt! [Exit, Terwe^t peeps through the Door, looks about, then enters. While his lordship is engaged with the General, no harm in taking a peep — Charming rooms '. — • fit for expanded genius, like mine : — here I shall meander through these enchanting labyrinths, till I reach the closet — the sanctum sanctorum — the —eh 1 somebodv in that room : it would be cursed mal-a-propos to stumble on the Peer before I'm introduced — But he's safe wich the General, so never mind. (Enter Tyke, in a different Coat,) Sir, your most devoted servant* 36 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Tyke. Same to you, Sir ; same to you. Fer, Odd figure ! — Oh, I see at once who he is — great county man, in the commission— yet well with him — may be useful. Sorry, Sir, the robbery was not brought home to that rascal. Tyke. Arc you ? Now there we differ. Fer, Indeed ! — You who are used to the ses- sions must know these things better than I. Your friend Lord Avon dale is a great character, ex- tremely popular : did you hear his last speech ? Tyke, No ; I don't myself much fancy last speeches. Fer, In the country, perhaps ? Tyke. No, I was out of the country. Fer. Abroad I Tyke, Yes. Fer. What, run out a little, eh —rather out at the elbows ? Tyke. A good deal. Fer, You'll excuse m e ; but I see things in a moment. — What — cards, hazard — ah, my dear Sir, you should have got some friend to have tied you up. Tyke, You think so ? Why I could have got that done fast enough. Fer. But I suppose you were determined to take your swing. Tyke. Not exactly ; but I did not go abroad en that account. Fer, Oh, I know it in a moment — ill health ? Tyke. Why, I certainly should have died if I had stayed. Fer, Indeed ! — Oh, my dear Sir, in this world we must all have our trials, and you have had yours. Tyke. I have. Fer, Suffer much confinement ? THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 3f Tyke, A good deal. Fer. You of course were properly attended ; you had good judges of your case ? Tyke* They were reckoned so j I did not much fancy them myself. — Fer, And they said a voyage would save you ? Tyke. To a certainty. Fer. You must have been transported at the news ? 'Fyke, I was Fer, Has it cured you ? (Offering a pinch of snuff,) Tyke. I don't know, I think I feel some of my old symptoms — (Takes the box.) — this is a varry pratty box — I've lost mine. Fer, Do me the honour to use that — -till — (A- part) If he would but keep it I — (Tyke puts it in his pocket) — ^^he has — My dear Sir, you have doubtless considerable interest with Lord Avon- dale. Tyke, Why, I believe he would not much like to offend me. , Fer. Lucky fellow ! — (apart,) — My name, Sir, is 'Ferment ; by and by I shall be introduced to the peer. — You know business — a word thrown in by you would prevent my being in the wrong- box — eh? (Tyke winks and nods,) — I apprehend you. Tyke, You apprehend me, do you ? (Alarmed,) Fer, That is, I conceive — I understand — ah, Sir, you don't know me. Tyke. No, I don't ; and you don't know ifie. Fer, Yes I do ; you are a generous disinterest- ed gentleman — I can see what others cdn't. Tyke, Yes, you can. G8 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Enter io/'J Avondale unobserved by Ferment. Lord Avon. Ah 1 whom have we here ? {AparU^ Fer. As for the peer, you'ii see how I'll ma- nage him. I'll worm into his secrets. — I say, v^ hich is the weak side — where is he ticklish I Tyke. Ticklish ! — I'm sure I never tried. Fer. Never mind ; I know, — Between our- selves— see the whole man as plain as if he stood before me. ( Lord Avondale has placed himself close to FermeJit^s chair. J Tyke, Why, lor that matter, so do I. Fer, I'll soon find the right place to tickle him. (Turns rounds sees Lord Avondale at his elbow^ ■xvho eyes him with sever Jy — Ferinent attempts to speak^ but cannot — Lord Avondale advance^^ — Fer- tnent escapes at the door where he entered,) Lord Avon, Worm into my secrets! — What does he mean ? Who is he ? Tyke, He calls himself Ferment. Lord Avon* I shall remember him. Tyke. He gave me this box, to speak a good word for him like — he seems but a silly bad sort of chap, I think. Lord Avon, At present he is not worth a thought — for I have received information that alarms — distracts me. — Come near — that boy — (what a question §oy a parent!) — does he survive ? Tyke, I don't know. LordA.von, Not know ? Tyke. No. Lord Avon, V/here did you leave him? Tyke, Where did I leave him ? Wh} — Come, -come, talk of somthing else. fSee?ns disiurbed,J\ Lord Avon, Impossible ! — Have you to human being ever tol4 from whom you received that child-? THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 31 Tijke. No. Lord Ai'on, Then my secret's safe* • Tijke. IVe said so. Lord Avon. Why that frown? What? not even to your father ? Tijke. Who! (Smarts.) L-jrd Avon, V/hat agitattis you? — You had a father. Tijke. Had a father ! be quiet, be quiet. (IVcdhs about greathj agitated. J L^ord Avon. By ihe name of him who indig- nantly looks down on us, tell me — Tyke, (Striking his forehead. J Say no more about that, and you shall hear ail. — Yes, I had a father ; and when he heard of my disgrace, ths old man walked, we' heavy heart I warrant, all the way tld* jail to see me ; and he prayed to hea- ven for me — (Pointings but not daring to look up J -—just the same as if 1 had still been the pride of his heart like. (Speaks with difjicultij.^ and sighs heavily, J Lord Avon, Proceed. Tyke, Presendy. Lord Avon, Did you entrust the child to hi^ care ? Tyke, I did. Lord Avon. Do not pause — -you rack me. Tyke, Rack you! — well, you shall hear the end out. — C meant to tell father all about the child ; but, when parting came, old man could not speak, and 1 could not speak: — well, they put me oa board a ship, and 1 saw father kneeling on the shore with the child in his arms. — - Lord Avon, Goon. Tyke, 'Tis soon said- — (Collecting his forti" tudej — When the signal gun for sailing vv^as fired, I saw my old father drop down dead— -and some* 40 THE SCHOOL OF KEFORM. body took up the child and carried it away. I felt a kind of dizziness ; my eyes flashed fire, the felood gushed out of my mouth — I saw no more. --^f Sinks exhausted into a chair. J Lord Avon, Horrible ■ — What.'' record a father's death without a tear ? Tyke. Tear 1 Do you think a villain who has a father's death to answer for can cry? — No, no, I feel a pack of dogs worrying my heart, and my eyes on fire — ^but i can't cry. — (^A vacant stare of horror,) Lord Avon, And is this desolation my work ?- Oh repent, repent I Tijke, (Starting vp.) For what? is not fa- ther dead? — a'n'c I a thief — cursed — hated — hunted ? — Why should I be afraid of the devil ? doii't I feel him here ? My mouth's parched— Lord Avon, Within is wine. Tijke, Brandy, brandy I Lord JjLVon, Compose yourself — ^follow me— you want sleep. Tyke, Sleep, ha, ha! under the sod I may. C Points down and groans heavily,) [Exitjfoliowi?2g Lord AvondaJe, THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 41 ACT III. SCENE I. — A Garden behnt^incr to Mr* Fer- IVIENT. Enter 3Irs. 1"er m e rt cmd Juli a . Mrs, Ferment* LOOK, my dear? the '^rindows of Mrs. St, Clair's apartment are open, probably we may see her. " Pray, where did you first meet this inter- '-^ estlng woman t " yidia. In the confines of Portugal : she had *' been for many years the inhabitant of a convent ; **• but, by the fate of war, its institution was dis- '* solved, and its members cast upon the charity " of the world : we found her in obscurity and in- ^^ digence, yet possessing jewels and other articles " of value, which no aggravation of distress could " induce her to part from. She said they were evi* *' dences by which she hoped to punish perfidy, *•" and assert the innocence of a departed friend. *•" Mm, Fer. A departed friend 1 — ah ! her griefs " cling so closely to her aching breast, they surely " must be her own. " Jidia, My father afforded her his protection ; *' and I trust, madam, and under your hospitable *^ roof she will again, recover her health and tran- '^ quiillly.*' Jidia* Kere comes her attendant— an Irish §irh D 2 42 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. (^Enter Shelah.) Well, good Shelah, how is my friend? Shelah, Oh I mighty weak, madam, Mrs, Fer, I fear her iiKlisposition increases. Shelah, 1 hen Heaven keep her as she is, poor lady! for fear she grows worse She wishes to take a walk out, so I am going to carry a coach to her. Mrs, Fer, Vi\ take care of that. — Did you re- side in the same convent with your lady I Shelah, I did, Madam, till the soldiers came with their bayonets and turned us all out into the wide wicked world, as merry as grigs Madam. — (Curtseys,^ Mrs, Fer. You doubtless are acquainted with Mrs. St. Clair's story ? Shelah, I am, Madnm. 3Irs, Fer, Then pray tell me — Shelah. I won't, Madam. — {Curtseying,') Mrs, Fer, My faithful girl, believe me, my question would not hsive tended to abuse the con- fidence placed in you. Shelah, I hope not Madam ; for my fidelity is all in this world I can call my own, and that's my Lady's. Mrs, Fer, Accept this as a reward for that fi- delity — (Offering 7noney,} Shelah. Ah, Madam, and would you be after paying me for what is natrouble at all, and what I can't help ? — Had I indeed betrayed my dear Lady, that would have been a mighty trouble to me, and I should have deserved every thing you could offer me. Excuse my boldness in refusing -^ — my mistress wants me. (Curtseys^ and exit,) Julia, Here comes my friend. Enter Mrs, St. Clair, leaning on Shtlah, Mrs. Fer » Dear Madam'.— THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 43 juUa, My charming friend ! Mrs» St. Clair. Pardon me, but when the mind is care-worn, kindness oppresses, and, but that the grateful heart can return the tribute of a tear, benevolence would oft destroy what it so nobly aims to cherish. Mrs. Fer. 1 hope to tempt you abroad ; the surrounding scenery is esteemed beautify]. Mrs, St. Clair. Too well I know its charms — i (apart.)— *-SwYt\y the hand of Providence has guided me to the place where first I saw a loved, but cruel, husband.-Oh Heaven I should he yet live and thy unerring finger point to his devoted head — first grant me thy justice — .hen let the dispen- sations of thy mercy pardon his offences ! " Julia. Come, come, you must talk to me — " The day is inviting— -the air invigorates the " spirits, gives wings to the fancy— the jocund " spring is chaunting her matin song, while she " gaily waves a chapiet for her mother nature ; " and rosy health, encircled by her band of wan- " ton zephyrs, beckons you to the upland lawn, *' anxious to join you in her happy train> — Dare " 3^ou refuse, when 'tis heaven's breath invites?*— " Come, come.'' Enter Fkederick. 'Julia. Good morning. Sir! — Mrs. St. Clair-—* ( Presenting him. ) Fred. Lord Avondale, ?vladam, warmly soli- citous that his services may contribute to your happiness, asks when he may be permitted the honour of attending you ? Mrs. St. Clair. Express my humble gratitude to his Lordship. — All times must equally suit her who has in this world but one business — one €are. — I 44 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM Fred. I shall say so ; and if the efforts of him V'h^ addresses you, can serve you Lady, point- but the road ; inquiry must pursue, and zeal and dilligence will do their best to supply the absence of influence or talent. Mrs, St. Clair. Oh, Sir ! — Dear girl, speak my gratitude. Julia. He is already thanked; for the kind heart, while prompting the tongue to speak its dictates, receives in return the graieful whispers of apprfiving virtue. Fred. What fascinating sweetness ! — ^but, stern duty 1 I obey thee — TVly noble friend begs to lay at the feet of his fair bride this offering of his de- votion — of his love. — (He trembling presents a portrait — she receives it — both remain silent. J Mrs, Fer. Upon my honour, this offering seems a talisman — it has absolutely chained both your tongues. — Why Sir, if an antiquary present to his society an old saucer, he makes a bit of a speech about it. — Let me see. Why, my love 1 is Lord AvondJile so young, and so handsome ? — Jtdia. I don't know. — (Pettishly.) Mrs. Fer. Well, well; I asked a civil question —ha! hal Fred. It was painted many years since. 3Irs. St. Clair. The portrait of the noblcmaa who ha^ so kindly interested himself in my behalf? Mrs. Fer. Yes ; really a charming man, is he not ? (Presenting the picture to Mrs. St. Clair. J Mrs. St, Clair. Heaven ! Oh, support me I (Faints. J Mrs. Fer. She recovers. Mrs. St. Clair. A sudden oppression— Where is that youth? (Grasps Frederick's hand and speaks ivith difftutltijj Are-^you-^his-^son ?. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 45 Fred. Alas 1 Madam, a poor orphan — the d'ea- ture of his bounty. 3Irs, St, Clair, Has he no son ? Fred, None, Madam; his Lordship was never married. Mrs, St. Clair, I'm sick at heart ; lead me in ; — forgive me for ungratefully repelling your kind- ness — I mast be alone. Fred, May 1 convey to Lord Avondale the pa- pers ? — (She waves her hand refu^ingly.J — Shall his I^ordship attend f Mrs, St, Clair, Never! (To ShelahJ 'Tis he ! Shelah, Ah ! Mrs, Si, Clair, Hush ! [ Exeunt Mrs, St, Clair and SheLh* Fred, How changed — how mysterioys — ^how to develope ; — ^I:>ut is that my duty ? No, no. jfuHa, Dear, dear I I wish I could divert her from her solitude ; — I wish— I'll tell you — I wish I could purchase for her a pretty low phaeton and two little quiet ponies, that I could drive. Sir, here is a purse ; and when I considtr that its con- tents might have lightened the heart of misery, I blush that it has so long remained here a use- less burthen. — Will you execute this commission for me ? Fred. With my best skill. Julia, 1 am Kure your sympathising heart will convert this trouble to a pic asure. Fred, Ah, Lady ! of the cup of flattery we all wish to taste; but when it is presented by the hand of a Hebe, what fortitude can resist the sweet intoxication ? — -(Apart J Ah, perfidious wretch ! is this pleading my nobie patron's cause ? — ^I hum- bly take my leave. (Boivs and exit, jfulia look& after him. J Mrs. Fer* So, so ! — my love, that's a gate. 48 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Julia. Yes, I know 'tis a gate ; but, at that mo- ment, my thoughts were — Mrs. Fer, On the other side of it — Here comes your father, and with him my dear wise husbands Enter General Tarragan t7«^ Ferment. Mrs, Fer, My dear General, I have something very important to tell you, I don't like your daughter's intended husband ; and she don't like him — and you ought to consult her happiness. Gen, Why, don't I consult it ? Zounds, Ma* dam, won't her house be besieged by all the fashion of London ? Won't she be hated by all her female friends? Will she have a moment's peace or comfort? What the devil would a wo- man have ? Julia, You don't love your daughter. Gen. Better than any thing in the world, ex- cept my regiment. Mrs, Fer, Then don't transfer her duty, w^her^ she can't serve with pleasure — unless the heart be- a volunteer, mutiny and desertion will follow — consider a woman like a soldier. Gen, I hope, Maciurn, you won't compare a wo- man to — Mrs. Fer, Yes, Sir; to the best grenadier iq your van : fvr, like him, she is pretty sure to con- quer. Gen, Indeed ! Now, I think a woman is more like a soldier left in the rear. 3Irs, Fer. Ay ; why t Gen, Because he generally has a devilish deal of the baggage about him. Let them take that. (^Tb Ferment. J Fer. I say — she seems in a rare humour: sup- pose you speak to her now about her silence to mei Gen, I will. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 47 Fer, You promised, you know, to put an end to it for ever. Gen. I'il do it in a minute for you, and make her own she's wrong. Fe7\ Do, my dear cousin ; now's the time. Gen. To be sure — Madam, I am g. Fer, Then, in other words, General, you are going to procure me a gratification. Gen. (To Ferment, J You hear. — Pdadam, we have aU our little foibles. 3Irs, Fer, If you allude to mine, pray call them faults. — Come ! what are the)' ? and how may I correct them? Gen, (To Ferment^') I told you how easy it was I Fer, Thank you 1 — chank you 1 — Now for it I Gen. Why, then, Madam, my cousin complains of a certain reserve — you understand — a gium kind of a silence ; and when I consider that man is — a man, wh}', 1 own, 1 am at a loss for your rea- sons, and wait to hear them. — Now mind her an- swer. (To Ferment. J — And, as I said belore, wait to hear them. — (Faiiat — he confused, J — You know we can argue the matter pleasartiv .— (Pause — he more confounded. j — Because want of temper, in such a case, is — Eh \-—( Fau.se — he be- comes irritated.) — Upon my soul, Madam, I must say— (^'/je holds up her hands to stop hini) — well. Madam — very well — I've done ; and now let's hear — [She takes Julia's hand and curtocys.'-—> They exeunt.) Fer. Well, you've settled it I Gen. Eh? {ctbashed.^ Fer, You've done it I Gen. Yes, yes ; you sec she had not a word ia say for herself. 48 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Fer. No, but you forgot to make her own she was wrong. Gen, But silence gives consent, you know. Fer. (Sighing?) 'Tis very pleasant ! — Is not it ? Gen, Oh, 'tis the devil 1 — Curse it! 'tis as bad as fightiPig without a drum. Fer. I'll fijrget her. Gen, That's right ! — And now we'll go to Lord Avondale's and I'll introduce you. Fer. And forget her ! — But, my dear cousin, every thing dtpends on the manner. — Now will you do it my way ! — I have a plan. — I'll instruct you as we go along — and never think of her. Gen, No, never. — Fer, I tell you what — poor creature I — I pity her about you I Gen, Yes, atcl what's more, I pity you. Ftr. No, no ? Gen. Yes, I do pity you, upon my soul ! For, No, no ! Gen, But I do, though. [Exeunt, SCENE IL — An Apartment in Avarulale Castle^ « Enters Mrs, Nicely, folloived by an old Man, Mrs. Nicely, Walk in, walk in, — Are you ill ? Old M(in, Feeble 1 — very feeble i Mrs, Nicely, And Unhappy^ 67cOf«;?. Ah, Madam 1 Mrs, Nicely, Come, come ; tell me who you are, and all about it. Old Man, i was a tensnt of Lord Avondale's father. " 3Irs, Nicely, I don't remember you ; but that's '' no wonder — my memory is bad. " Old Man. Alas I mine, too, is cruelly treacher- THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 49 " ous ; for sometimes. Madam, I foolishly stand " knocking at my door, forgetting that I have nei- *' ther wife nor child to open it. And then, at " meals, I often help them ; and when I find they " are not there, you may suppose I cannot eat. ClVeeps.J " Mrs, Nicely, Your wife, then, is dead? " Old Man. Many years since ; but she left me '' a son 1" Mrs. Nicely, Well, that w^as a comfort ! Old Mail, Ah, no ! a profligate son, who put thorns into my pillow, and wore furrows irf my cheeks ! I neither expected nor hoped to survive his shame, but Heaven willed it otherwise. I em- plo3'ed a gentleman of the law, who always falsely flattered me he would obtain a remission of the sentence my boy was condemned to suffer. The expences I have, for years, vainly endeavoured to pay, and now a prison opens to receive these aged limbs. — But it matters not much where they lie ! Mrs. Nicely. But it does matter a great deal, though. — To shelter age and infirmity is a sacred duty, and woe be to them who neglect it ! Old 3Ian. Having heard that Lord Avondale -has returned to this countiy, I have walked here, in the hope he will pity an old man's sorrows.—- Here is a paper, which will explain. 3Irs* Nicely. He shall have it. — Go into my room, and take some thing to refresh you, and come again to-morrow. Old Man, I'm very troublesome. Mrs. Nicely. Nonsense ! — troublesome, indeed ! • — come very often, I shall always be very glad to see you, when it is not dirty. — Troublesome, in- deed ! [Exeunt Old Man and Mrs, Nicely, E 50 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM, Enter Lord Avondale. Lord Avon, Within, there I {Enter Peter.) Find Frederick, and send him to me. Peter* Yes, my Lord. — General Tarragan waits. Lord Avon, Introduce him. Peter. And Mr. Ferment. Lord Avon, Who? Peter, The General is accompanied by Mr. Ferment, your Lordship's neighbour. Lord Avon, Ferment I — ah, I recollect that gentleman's honourable intentions, and shall, of course, reward them. — Well, show them in here. [Exit, Enter General Ta^rragan and Ferment. Peter, Gentlemen, his Lordship will wait on you immediately. Fer, You mentioned my name. Peter, Mr. Ferment. Fer, That's right ; you're a fine fellow ! fExit i^eter,) Now, my dear General, are you perfect ? Gen, Yes, yes 1 Fer^ But, consider, 'tis the most important e- Vent ! — an epoch 1 — a crisis ! — 'the very acme — Gen, Well, I'll introduce you in your own words. Fer, But do say them again — ' My Lord, give me leave'— -now do indulge me — I'm his Lord- ship — now begin — ^* My Lord, give — * Gen, Well, wellj be quiet. — ' My Lord, give ipe leave to present you this — ' Fer, Bravo ! Gen. Bravo ! — I thought it was gentleman i Fer* To be sure I THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 51 Gen, Then don't put me out — ' this gentl<"man, whose wishes, hopes, and ambition, centre in a zeal for your Lordship's service.' Fcr. Vastly well I — Now — ' I doubt not. Gene- ral, but his talents and virtues will command my esteem.' — That he'il say of course. Gen, You think so. Fei: I'hlnk -so ! — don't I know ? — -Yixi only mind what you liave to say yourself. — ^ Command my esteem.'- — Now — Gen. Be quiet ! — ^ To accomplish that darling object wilLbe the sole aim of his life.' Fer. Very well 1 — '' Then I receive him as my '* friend. " Gen, In doing that, my Lord, you will con- ^* fer on me an everlasting obligation." Fer. Oh, thank you, my dear cousin ! — fern' bracing J — Then I pour forth such a torent of elo- quence — the awful moment's at hand ! — he comes ! I'm all agitation ! hope — f Enter Lord Avo-sDA-L-E.y ^ (Prompting General) My Lord, give me leave — Gen. Damn it, be quiet 1 — -My: Lord, give vcm leave to present this-— Fer, Beautiful ! GeJi. Beautiful gentleman ! — no->-this gentle- man-"don't put me out — whose wishes, hopes, and ambition, centre only in a zeal for your Lord- ship's service.— (^ 7/16" General only attending to what he is to say next, J — Lord Avon, I already know the object of his zeal ; it is to insinuate himself into my confidence, most honourably to worm into my secrets. Gen, To accomplish that darling object will be the sole aim of his life. Lord Avon, Indeed! Then, General, with your 52 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. permission, 1 shall order a servant to show him the door. ^ Gen. In dcing that, my Lord, j'ou will confer ©n me an everlasting obligation. [Exit Lord Avondale. {FeiinenCln agonies.') Perfect to a letter I — there, I've done for you ! Fer, Yf s, you've done for me I Geii, Well, I seldom praise myself ; but if that was not what it ought to be — What 1 is his Lord-* ship gone ? Fer. Gone ! — Zounds ! did not you hear what he said ? Gen. No, not I ; you told me not to mind.— ^ What, v/rcng again ? eh, Ferment I Fer, Blockhead ! to trust to such an old — -it you know as little aboiit war — -(IValks about irri- tated. J Gen, What's that you say ? (Follorving him. J, Fer» Sir, I'll say what I please. — I'm roused, and would advise vou to be careful. Gen. Ob, I can take a hint I Fer. What ! do you talk to me of hints ? — any tVmg to sav to «ie-"Speak out like a mian. Geh. Will you fight? Fer, No, S'r, I Vy-on't ! — Damn it, Fil show a proper spirit here. • ' ' Ge?2. Do you sec this tafie ? Fer. That for^ yourcrlneV ' '(Snapping his fng- f /•.?.) Don't think you have one of those to deal v/ith who, because they have not manly fortitude enough to bear a fev/ knocks, run into Hyde Park —load piitols — fire in the air — shake hands. — Pretty courage !— No, no ! Gen. (Jndignantlu.) Sir, I ask your pardon. Fer. Sir, I'm satisfied. (Grasping his hand.) Gen. But, zounds 1 — THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 53 Fe'i\ Sir, I won^t hear another word 1 — You have asked my pardon — pity nobodv hears — you have asked my pardon, and there's an end.— Do you suppose I want you to go on your knees 1 Enter Peter, -who vohiapers General* Gen, Immediately 1 — Oh, very well ? Ftr» Duelling, indeed i — Pohaw. Gen. Why, true ; — ^''cis but poor, shabby work *— -a mere snack : but in glorious war — damme ! there's cut and come again ! — Good bye, Ferment. — I say, ^ My Lord, give me leave' — Oh, you're a beautiful gentleman 1 — Ha ! ha ! \_Exit G-n, Fer. Oh, I could cry ! — (situ down') — Pretty figure I shall make when 1 go home ! (^Peter bows) What's the matter with you ? What are you bobbing your head at me for — Eh ? Peter, I wait your commands, Sir. Fer, I've no commands for you, my honest fel- low 1 Peter. Yes, Sir, you certainly have. (^Bozvsy and points to the door.) Fer, Have I ? — (j'ises) — Your name's Thomas \ Peter. No, Sir, Peter. Fer, Ah, Peter 1 you never come to see ray Timothy, Peter ! Peter. No, Sir, I never intrude. {Pointing to the door. J Fer, Don't you, Peter ! Peter. A pleasant walk to youl {Pjinting.) Fer. Thank you, Peter. — Lived long here ? Peter, Yes, Sir, and hope to live here much onger. Fer, I don't wonder at it, Peter. Peter, A good morning, Sir. Fer, A last look! — Oh?—. {Exeunt. fi 2 54 IHE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Enter Lord Avondale anel General Tarragan-. Lord Avon. Not see me ? Gen, No,' my Lord. Lord Avon, Not trust the papers and evidences in my possession ? Gen, No. — I don't understand it. Lord Aeon. What do they contain ? Gen, Why, as she tells me, certificates of mar- riage and baptism, letters, jewels — in short, as complete a chain of evidence as justice could de- sire. Lord Avon, I rejoice to hear it. — Distraction ! — Where are these papers ? Gen, I can't say. — I suppose in Ferment's cus- tody. Lord Aivon, Ah! — Wi-hin, there ! {Enter Pe- ter,^ Run, directly, and leli tnat gentleman to return. [^Ecvhv, she must wait till I come home. Lord Avon. Come sir. (Offering his hand,) Fer. Oh, my Lord I — Peter, you see how it is, \Exeunt% 56 THE SCHOOL .OF REFORM, SCENE IIL--Inside of a Coitagc^Tcihle, and Candle burninp; on it, — Old Man seated^ Inn Handkerchief to his Eyes — Txuo Bailiffs stand- ing near him. Bail, Come, come, Sir, we shall be late. Old Man. C Rising.) I am ready. But your employer might have given me a little more time. I had presented a petition to a nubleman, and perhaps, in a day or two — Well, well, now to a prison. — 'Tis hard ! Bail, Why, master, our business, at best, is not a very pleasant one ; but if we had to answer for those we deal v/ith, none but a devil would be a bailiff. Old 3Ian, Reach rue my hat, and let me take something to comfort me. (Opens adraxver^ and takes out a book, J Bail, Aye, v/e'll take a drop of that with you — What 1 a book ? Old Man, Yes, of devotion ! And had your em- ployer tasted of its spirit, he would have turned the cup of bitterness from the lips of the afflicted. Bail, Why, that may be ; but rem.ember, old gentleman, that for one unfeeling creditor, we get hold of a hundred hard-hearted debtors, who, to have twenty dishes on their own table, will pre- vent twenty honest men from having one upon theirs. Old Mm, Aye, that's true I — that's very true 1 — It grows late — -I cannot walk very fast. Bail, Then the sooner we set out the better. Old Man, 1*11 do my best. Bail, Come, we'll help you. Fred, (Without,) Hollo! Bail, Come in. > THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 57 {Enter Frederick.) Fred. Good people, I have mistaken my waj'. Pra)' inform me v/hich road leads to the castle ? Bail. Why, if you mean York castle, we can show you, for v/e are going there. Fred. To a prison 1-— Are you, Sir, in the cus- tody of these men ? Old Man. Alas 1 Fred. Good Heaven ! Bail, Why, is it so very singular that an old man, past work, should be behindhand in the world ? Fred. No, but I hope 'tis singular that he should "^uffer for it. — -To prison, but not to-night. (BailiJ j^ hakes his head. J Defer his fate but till the morn- ing — on my word, I'll return. Bail. Young gentleman, we must do our duty, and words won't do. — If you choose to pay fifty pounds, indeed — Fred. Alas ! I have not — ah, this purse ! — for vrhat was it intended ?--to allow a lady to breathe the air more commodiously — if applied here it may prevent age and infirmity from perishing in a dungeon's noxious vapour : — 'tis Rot mine ; but will not Julia thank nie ? and will not my industry soon supply it ?- — •How have you incurred thij* debt ? Old Man. In endeavouring to restore a lost son to his fond father's arms. Fred. Ah, in the sacred cause of paternal love ! — ^here, take the money ! and v/ith it take the thanks of him whose cheek v/as ne'er bedew'd by a father's precious tear. — fWecpsJ — Come, your demand ? Bail. Nay, your honour ! we do but obey or- ders J but if the gentleman can pay, why, Lawy<;v 58 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Claw desired us to be quite civil ;— ind so as there's plenty of money— 'vhy, another time — ► ('Frederick gives rnoneuj — Thank you, Sir.— - ——Good night, old gentleman ; and I hope, for your sake, that we may nev^cr meet again. [^Exit Bal/J^s. Old Man, Surely this was sent by an an angel ! Fred, It was indeed 1 — An angel who will smile on her minister, when, to her pitying ear, he tells the story. Tyke, CWithoiU.J Aye, a comely kind of lad. Bail, (IVithout.J Why, there's such a one in that cottage. Enter Tyke, running. Tyke. Aye, there he is, sure enough I— -I say, young fellow, run off *tid castle as fast as you can, '—His Lordship's quite in a taking— all the ser- vants after you. Fred, Which road ? Tyke, To the right. — Come, be sharp!— be sharp ! Fred. Farewel ! ("taking old matins hand J ; and doubt not but Heaven lias in store a blessing to re- ward thy virtues ! — Come, come, be of good cheer. •—I'll see you soon again. \_Exit, Old Man, Pray, Sir, who is that generous youth ? Tyke. -Why, he's a kind of foreman like, to Lord Avondale — my friend. Old 3Ian, Are you a friend of that worthy no- bleman ? Tyke, Yes — between ourselves — I have him under my thumb ;---but I say that our confidence you understand.— That's a smartish purse you've got there ; but, I tell you what, I don't think it is very safe, just now. Old 3Ian, Indeed, Sir 1 — You alarm me ! THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 59 Ttfke, I tell you what— I'll take care of this for you. (Takes the purse.) Old Man, Well, Sir, you are very kind.- -You live at the castle ? Ty.ke, Yes, yes ! Old Man, Then, perhaps, you could aid a peti- tion I have presented to his lordship — my name Tyke* - V/ell, well, let's hear your name. Old Man. Robert Tyke ! Ti/ke, Eh ! — what ! — speak !— no, don't ! Old Man, Robert Tyke I Tyke, (Treijibling violently ^ rushes to the table ^ brings down the candle^ looks at the old mant dashes (fandle and purse on the ground^ and tears his hair in agony.) Oh villain I villain ! Old Man, What's the matter ? Tyke. Don't you know mc ? Old Man, No, Sir. Tyke. I'm glad on't ! — I'm glad on't ! — Ruin my own father ! Old Man, Ah ! did I hear rightly ?— Father ! — What] — Oh ! let me see — let me see ! {Tyke^ -with a countenance strongly impressed xvith shame and horror^ turns round,) Ah ! it is my son !— - my long lost, dear, profligate, boy ! Heaven be thanked 1 Heaven be thanked ! Tyke, (Groaningy strikes his breast,) Oh ! burst, burst, and ease me i Eh! — but he's i-live — fa- ther's alive ! — Ha, ha ! (^laughs hysterically,) Old Man, You terrify me, Robert, Robert, hear me ! — Tak;.- my forgiveness—take my blessing 1 Tyke, Whai ! — forgive — ble ss-^such a rogue as- — :^bursts into a^ood of tears,) Old Man. Be composed. Tyke, Let me cry ; it tloes me good, father — ft does me good. 60 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Old Man. Ob ! if there be holy water, it surely is the sinnt^r's tears. Tijke, Bat he's alive ! [rushes into his artnsS) Old Mail, Aye ! alive to comfort and pardon thee, my poor prodigal — and Heaven will pardon thee ! Tykr. No don't say that, father, because it can't. Old I\Ia7i. It is aii merciful. Tyke. Yes, I know it is, I know it Would if it could — ^}3Ut not me ! — No, no I ^ Old Man. Kneel down and asl its mercy. Tyke. 1 dare — father — I dare not ! — Oh, if I durst but just thank it for thy life ! Old Man, Angels v/ill sing for joy. Tyke, What, may I, think you ? — ^may I — may I ? {By degrees he tremblingly falls on his knees^ clasps his hands in energetic devotion. — The cut^^ tainfalls.^ THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 61 i ACT IV. SCENE I. — Enter FER:^iEST^fo Hewed by Timo- thy. Ferment, WHAT does your mistress say ? Tim, Why 1 suppose she'll obey your com- -mands, Sir. Fer. Yes, I know — she said she would come directly. Tim, No, not quite, Sir. Fer, AVhat did she say ? Tim, Why she said plump she would not. Fer. Confusion ! Tim, f Apart. J Yes ; there's plenty of that in this house. Fer, But, yet, I'll condescend to introduce her to Avondale Castle. Yes, yes, I'll take her under my wing, poor woman !— Timothy, go and pre- pare the sociable. ^ T/m, The sociable ! — for whom. Sir ? ? Ftr, For my wife and myself. Tim, What I together in a sociable ! What that's so comiortable ! Ecod 1 it shall be ready in a minute. [Exit, 1 Fer, But 'tis devilish hard to come home in tri- umph, overflowing with exultation, and no one to partake in my jo)' — not a word of congratula- tion — fe THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. {Enter Shelah.) How do you do ? how do you do ? Shelah. Oh 1 thank you, Sir— ~I hope your hon- our is well, Fer, Now, she'll talk to me ! — What, you've been pulling a poesy— Shelah. For my dear mistress, Sir. But, oh ! she's unhappy ; and in that case, as I have read in an Irish poetry book., — the perfume ot flowers will not please the eye-— the peaceful silence of even- ing does not charm the ear — ^iior heavenly dreams refresh the mind, which cannot take repose. Fer» Pray, my dear, did you meet my wife ? Shelah, No, Sir. — Oh, what a happy man you are ! — Fer. Am I ? Shelah* To have a wife so handsome, and such ^ sweet spoken lady. Fer, Is she l Shelah, Oh .' to hear her talk is delightful ! — Fer, Delightful, is it ? — Indeed I — Now would not this drive a man mad ? C Throws himself into e.J — Why don't you hold your tongue .'' (Pause.) — Not but what I v/ould con- descend to hear what ycu complain of — justice demands that — ^but don't be tedious. ( Pause. J--^ Damme but sne's dumb again ! — Dry your tears, my darling Fanny, and I'll convince you that my love is still — 3Irs. Ftr. Ha, ha, ha ! Fer. What do you laugh at. Madam ? 1';! give ycu a hundred pounds to tell me what you laugh Jit. i'il— I've done with you : and if tver I open these lips to you again, may all the Mrs, Fer. George 1 Fer. Oh 1 that voice—how it soothes I my love ! 3irs. Fer. Go ! Fer. Go ! go where ? what do you mean by go? (^Panse.) — Yes, I will go to the world's end. (Go- ing-, returns,)- — No, I v/on't go. (S/ts down.) — And now I should like to hear what vou can sav. (She retires.) — What, then, you'll gc^ ? — very well, Madam 1 — good bye to you! — won't yon THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 65 say good bye ? (Exit Mrs. Ferment,) — Won't you say — you wou't say good bye ? (Bawling after her, J — Furies ! Devib ! Let discord reiga for ever i Oh ! — Enter Timothy. Tim. The sociable's ready, Sir. Fer, Stand out of my way, you rascal ! or ril— i lExi't^ driving oJfTmothij, SCENE II The Pavilion. Enter SnELAH zvith caution : she looks' about. Shelah, Madam, you may approach j there is no one here. Enter Mrs. St. Clair. Mrs, St Clair. Ah, do I again behold the place which gave me birih ; where I fondly gamboled round my parents' knees ? — Oh I could their kind hearts have known the sorrows their child was doomed to suffer 1 — Alas I how changed I For the lowly cottage, I see the gaudy palace 1 'Stead of the modest woodbine, tangling its ligaments in the humble thatch, and giving sweeaiess to the breath of nature — behold the proud exotic, in sul- len majesty shedding its feverish perfume I — just emblem of its imperious master 1 Shelah. Imperious ! Give him his true tide — a. villain. Mrs. St. Cl'iir. No, no. Shelah. What ! is he not going to be married again ? Mrs, St. Clair, Nay, — ^}'ou know he thinks me I 2 66 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. dead. — Ah! what do I see? — that cabinet l^ — it ^vas mine — ';t contained— -Are we observed f Shelah. No, dear lady. Mr^i. St. Clair. If I am r^ght, the secret spring will unfold — Qouchinv it. the doors open^ and dh' covers a portrait of Mrs, St. Clair in a Spanish ha- bit^ her right hand pointing to the ring on her ^eft.^ Shelah, Sure, ^nd 'tis your own sweet self ! — and in the dress you have v/ith such care preserved ! Mrs. St. Clair, Yes ; the belter to conceal our tnarriage, I assumed the dress of the country.— Oh, memory 1 thou torturer of the wretched ! why dost thou whisper to this aching heart - — :hat I was then a happy mother and a ^ wife ? Now — yet some consolation steals into my breast — ^perhaps he has raised this to my memor} — perhaps he sometimes sits here alone, and to my wrongs pays the tribute of a repenting tear : — but then my lit- tle cherub — my darling boy — torn from my breast -— ibandf ned — lost 1 — can a mother pardon that \ — no, never, ntver. — Yet I'll save him from a fur- ther crime ! — but how ? — Ah,thatdresb ! — !tsh;\ll be so !- — Yes : at an awful moment he shall again bf hold an injured wife — shall hear a mother's nioe^iu-, — dien see me leave him, and the world, for evtr. Shelah. Oh, then, dear lady, take me with you ! Mrs, St. Clair. Ah ! we're surprised! — X hear footstep!^ Siielah. (Runs and closes the cabinet. J Don't be alarmed. I'his wa}' — this way. Exeunt* Enter Lord Avoi^'DA'LE.folloived by Ms, Nicely, learinz a small box. Lord Avon. Set it down. I hope the weight has not fatigued you I THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 67 Mrs, N-cehf. No, no, 'tis not heavy ; and when the heart's light the body's nimhle, be it t ver so old — ha, ha ! Lord Avon I am glad to see you so merry. Mrs, Nicslij. Ah ! a clean house and a clean con- science will make any one merry, jL^/t/ Avon, Heigh ho ! — I have not forgot the petition. Mrs. Nitely, Oh, my Lord, 'tis all settled,-—. Mr. Frederick, Heaven hie s him ! saved the old mar — he has gained the love of every hody. Lord Avon,' I rejoice to hear it.— Mrs. NIC' ill. Indeed !• — hut I fancv vou won't be glad to hear that he has gained the love of one who — Lord Avon. What mean you? Mrs. Nice hj. Why, if I know what eyes say, Miss Julia and he — < Lord Avon, Ah! Mr^ Nkdij, They just look as you and poor Emily used to do.—— Lord Avon. Oh, spare me ! spare me ! fa knock' hig at the door. J — See who is there. fMrs. Nice' ly goes out and returns.) Mrs, Nicely. 'Tis the young man who comes here by your appointment. \_Exit, I^ord Avon. Shew hirn in. — Tis plain 1 am sus- pected ! — And shall the name of Avondale be- come the sport of foes — the jest of fools ? — No, no ! — It is determined ! — These evidences of my shame must, shall be mine! — Mow to my purpose ! (He unlocks the box and takes out a cloak^ a mask^ and pistol- On hearing some one approach^ he covers the pistol with the cloak. J— -This fellow will be a lit instrument to effect \u 68 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. (Enter Tyke.) {Beckons Tyke to approach — turning round is sur- prised at his appearance^ -which is changed into a plain but very neat dress,] — Astonishing ! can this be the man l Tyke. No, It is not ; — I be quite another man to da) — ha ! ha ! Lord Avon, Why do you laugh ? Tyke. Why I laugh, my Lord, because I've been crying. Ha! ha ! I say, Fve found old man — father's alive — he I he 1 and, do you know, he says positive sure Heaven will forgive me ; and I de- clare, I somehov/ feel so warm and comfortable, that, between you and me, i should not at ail won- der, if it had already. Lord Avon. You thougiityour father dead ? 7\jke, Yes, and he thought so himself, poor man 1 liUt it was really what you gentry call a fine — a fmenomenun — You understand, that the ironmon- ger who made tackle for our Itgs picked father up, got life Into him again, and took him up to Lun- non, and just advertised in News the antedcte a«' bout his case ; and, would you believe it! next morning fine ladies intheir own coaches camctid' old man, we' tears in their pratty eyes, and bank- notes in tluir pratty hands to a matter of forty pound — Now I've just one commentation to mak on this matter : — I've seen your player show folks, and su(.h-like wiggtiing and waggeling, and chat- tering about London pride, and London profliga- tion, and what not — Now I think, if one of them wasj.ist to set about talking a little of London kindheartedness ard London charity, it would be rather more truerer, and quite as becoming. Lord Avon, Tell me, knows he aught of that boy ? THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 60 Tyke, What ! your son ? — no, never could hear a word about him — Ah ! could we but make him out now, then mayhap your Lordship would try your hand at a bit ot a laugh : — let me once see him — Fil find him out directly. Lord yJvon, Ah ! Tyke, That is, if I know 'tis him — you imder- stand. Lord Avon, Pshaw ! Tyke. Because I put a mark upon him. Lord Avon. Indeed ! Tyke, Oh yes, I managed it right enough. L'yrd Avon, Explain, Tyke, Why, you know, before you were a Lord, your name was Mr, Philip ; so I got some gun- powder and marked F on his neck, because F stands for Philip — yes yes — it struck me as proper. Lord Avon, Come hither, Robert, — I sent for you to — (Jocks at the cloak) — to tell you — .that- thai you possess my regard— Tyke, Thank you, my Lord. Lord Avon, And may command my patronage and protection. Tyke, And 3^ou mine — .quite mutual, I assure vou. Lcrd Avon. You can confer on me happiness. Ti'ke. Why no, sure. Lord Avon, By putting mc in possesion of cer- tain evidences, you can save me from ruin. Tyke, What ! can I tho' ? — IM go through wa- ter or fire, or any diing — Come, let's begin — -How •—where ? Lord Avon, Look under that cloak-— it will ex- plain the means. Tyke, I will — he 1 he ! — I declare I'm as hap- py as — (lifis up the cloak., sees a pistol and mask^ then trembling drops the cloak,) 70 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Lord Avon. Cca'xhing his hand, J You know the use of those ? Tyke, I do. Lrjrd Avon, You must employ them^ Ti/ke. Hash I f still trembling. J Lord Avon, What alai-ms y ou ? Ti/ke. Hush ! Lord Avon, No one hears ? Tyke, Yes, there does. - Lord Avon, Impossible ! Tyke, There does, I tell you — there does. Lord Avon, Ah I how ! where ? — (Tyke., shud' dering^ points up to heaven J — .Damnation I — ^baf- fled — trod on by this wretch !— -and must I stoop, to dissemble ? — Robert, I am satisfied. Tyke, I wish I was. Lord Avon, *Twas but to try your virtue. Tyke, Was not it, tho' ?— ^well, I hope that^ true ; but it flustered me sadl> — I declare, I'm ^U of a dother now. Lord Avon. But, swear to me—* Tyke. No, I'll never swear no more. Lord Avon, True, *tis unnecessary — Here, take this purse, good fellow. Tyke, Eh I no, no. Lord Avon, For the friendship I bear you. Tyke* Yes, I understand ; only, you see — you'U excuse me. Lord Avon, Do you scorn my bounty ? Tyke, By no means, only it wont dc — no more purses. Lord Avon. For your father's sake— - Tyke, Yts, yes, I'm sensible about all that-— but as to father, you see, I happen to have a couple of hands at his service — I'm much obliged — only I've grown a little cute and knowing lately. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM n Lord Avon, And would I again plunge his soul in guilt ! — Oh ! villain, villain ! Tyke* Did you speak to me ?— Oh— taking of yourself — yes, yes— -Why, I'll tell you a bit of se- cret, my Lord : I've found out that the honestest are the cunningest chap?— Why, there is father now- — he's a deep one — do you know, he can lay his head on his pillow, and think of dying we' a smile — I say he mum have kept a pratty sharp look out as to Vv^hat's right like — must not he ? Lord Avon, Leave me. Tyke, I will — I say, my Lord, he I he I I is go- ing tid' plough this aiternoon, to earn a supper for old man— -ha, ha ! — {snapping his finger s^j — Do your Lordship's heart good to come and see I work — rubbing hia hands exuUingly,^ Lord Avon, Leave me, I say l Tyke, We' pleasure — Ah 1 I see how it is->- Excuse the liberty I take we' your poor soul — but if you would but be persuaded to fall a ciying, and be comfortable — L.ord Avon. Instantly begone 1 Tyke. I will. — Shall I send old man to you ?-*- Oh, he's a capital hand at your deplorable case.— a- \_Exit, Tyke, (without,') Yes, yes : you'll find his Lord- ship in that room. Enter Frederick. L.ord Avon. Ah, Frederick, speak ease this agonized breast ! this tortured brain ! — what hast thou heard ? Fred. All access to the lady, or the evidence she posseF:ses, is impossible. Lord Avon- Be it so. Frederick — I love—I eiivy — I fear thee. Fr^^d. My dear Lord ! — fear him who would sa- crifice his life ? 72 TJIE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Lord Avo?2. Thy life ! — would'st thou ? Fred. Put ray firmness to the proof. Lord Avon. 1 shall do so. — ivlark me— In early life — blest years of innocence I — 1 iovtd a sweet and virtuous girl, but lowly born — come and be- hold her — (opens the cabinet. J — lli-fated Emily ! oh, could I recall that guilty hour — Fred. V/ith what melancholy sweetness she points to the pledge of virtuous love. Lord Avon. Yes, to avoid a parent's anger, we were privately married. — I went abroad, in the suit of an ambassador ; and she imprudently fol- lowed me. She lived in profound retirement — -I could seldom see her ; but her regret at my ab- sence was softened by the endearments of our in- fant son. Fred, flave vou a son ? Lord Avon. I had — oh, do not torture, but hear me I Shortly after the ambassador died, and was thought worthy of the splendid appointment. From that moment ambition took full possession of my soul, and my bouyant fancy twined round my brow the proudest honours a subject can enjoy ; but this secret — this degrading marriage — crushed each aspiring thought. Fred. But surely, the affection of a virtuous wo- man w>-uM compensate — Lord Avon, i hat was prevented : for my wife was secretly, but falsel}', accused of practices against the peiigion of the country. Fred^ How I envy you the proud joy of assert- ing her innocence, and aftbrding her the protect- ing arm of the husband she loved I Lord Avon. Irtie : but — Fred. I) id you not so ? Lord Avon. No ; — it might have injured my fortunes at home. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. rs Fred, What! — a virtuous wife injure the for- tunes of a British statesman ? — You know, my Lord, it is not so ; you know you libel your august patron. — Did you discover the secret villain Avho accused her? L'ird Avon, Villain ! Fred, Was he not a damned one ? Lord Avon. He was. — Oh, Frederick 1 avert that face, lest the indignant lightning of thy eye blast me I — I. was that villain 1 Fred, You freeze my blood 1 — The man that I have v/orshipped — that my very soul is bound to — Lord Avon, My innocent wife was secretly im- mured in a convent, and the news shortlv reached me — that she was no more. Fred, It cannot be I Oh, tell me so I — My no- ble patron is the nurse of merit, the scourge of baseness ; the good man's hope, the villain's fear ; the great man's envy, and the poor man's friend- Lord Avon. Thou tortur'st me, for such I might have been : — ^but nov/ view me, in all mv horrors — ^behold the selfish patriot, the abject hypocrite, the savage father, and the murdering husband. Fred, Oh, ambition I Lord Avon. Aye, it was my god : for that I ■suffered this lovely flower to wither in a cloister's gloom ; for damned ambition I tore my infant from it's mother's panting breast, and he is lost — lost for ever 1 But mark : — Heaven, who is as watchful to lay bare the villain's breast as it is to shelter that of innocence, has, as from the grave, raised up evidence of my shame ; I know where they are concealed — they must instantly be mine, Fred, But how ? Lord Avon, By theft. Fred, Forbid it, Heaven ! G 74 THE SCPIOOL OF REFORM. Lord Avon. Think'st thou I would live to hear my name coupled widi dishonour, or behold my- self (as inquisitors treat their victims) drest out in hellish shapes, and thus exposed to public mockery and scorn ?— no, no — (seizes the pistol end mask.) Fred* Ah ! Lord Avon. Frederick, didst thou not say thou would^st sacrifice thy life I Fred. Aye, my life, but not my honour : — ^to save you, pluck out this heart — but its last pulse shall throb with virtue. Lord Avon. Thou dost refuse ? Fred, It is impossible-^no wretch can be found — Lord Avon. Yes, there is one I am sure of. Fred. Ah, who ? Lord Avon. Avondale ! — ^Tell me, is he not a villain fitted to my purpose ? (snatches up the cloak, J Farewel 1 should we meet no more — -and if myaim fail, will be so — thou wilt find that in my death I have not forgot thee. -(Is strongly of- ected.j — Pardon, good, dear youth, the trial to which I put thy virtue : — on my soul, I am glad that it sustained it. (IVeeps.) Fred. Ah, tears 1 obey their sacred impulse. Plunge not your soul in horrors. Thus I'll cling to you — thus save you from a damning deed. (Kneels. J Lord Avon. Frederick, beware ! (Presents the pistol to him.) — Thou art the only soul on earth I love : but thee, even thee, would I roll at my feet a corpse didst thou check my purpose. — Do net pull more murders on my head. — 'Tis in vain— - farewell ! (Breaks from him and rushes out,) Fred. Father of mercies, pity and pardon! -— (Follows him, J THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 7li ACT V. SCENE I. — An enclosed Apartment xvith two Doors^ and a Flight of Steps as leading to a tiif' ret, Frederick desce?ids, Frederick, NOT returned I— -I've watched from the turret, >vhich commands the road, till my strained eye- balls refuse their office. — This agony of doubt is dreadful-— but must soon be changed to more aw- ful certainty : — should he succeed, each hour of life will accumulate sorrows on his head — should he fail, then my loved, my kind benefactor, is dead. — Hark 1 sure, I heard a confased noise- again ! — {a pistol is Jircd?) — O Heaven ! he is no more — {A noise is made ctt the door^ it opens^ Lord Avondale rushes in, and takes off' his mask?) Fred, Ah, he lives ! Lord AvoJi, Behold — ^they're mine — (shexving caset and papers.') Fred. I heard the report of a pistol. Lord Avon. It was levelled at one who pursued me. Let me but plunge these in eternal night- then fate I defy — (Ferment xvithout) Follow, fol- low — this way ! Lord Avon. Ah 1 I'm pursued. Fer, Hush ■ here we may avoid — ah ! this door beset ? Lord Avon, Then escape is impossible—and, bereft of the means of death I O Frederick! if 76 HIE SCHOOL OF REFORM. thou 1 west me, take this faithless weapon, nerve thy young arri), and in mercy dash out this mad- dening br^in. General Tarragan without.) We have him, sure enough. Lord Avon. Dost thou hear? Wilt thou behold me dragged forth a criminal ? FrecL Distracting thought 1 — how — where ? Oh that my life could save you l-^— My life — Ah I- — It shall be so. — Lord Avon. What dost thou mean. JFred. G-ive me this weapon — this mask. Lord Avon, Frederick, what would'st thou ?-— Fred, (^/^us.'ihip- into his orms.) Save my bene- factor. — 1 cannot sin, but i can stifFer for you. Gen. {xviihoui.') Force the door. Lord J.von, Ihink me not so damned — Fred, There is no time for words — ^fly to the turret. — I being found, all search will cease. Lord Avon, Thou shalt not suffer, by Heaven ! Fred. No, no ; fear not, I will escape— a mo- ment moie and all is lost: they force the door — away, away ! — {Lord Ave vacate retreats to the turret "—Frederick puts on cloak and mask — the door is forced — General Tarragan, Ferment, and a number of Servants rush in.) Gen» Ahj there he stands'. — ^'anmask the vil- lain. Fer. Vil do that. (Going up to Frederick he fihexvs the pistol—Ferment retrcatc — Frederick then takes off the mask,) AH. Frederick ! Gen. What! — no I — it can't be I — let me see him, only let me see him l — -zviphig his eyes') — Villain, viper, hypocrite I — S'death 1 what am I about? — I that have lighted the mine that was to blow up hundreds of innocent souls — and now to THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 7r snivel at a -but they are red-hot drops of fury, damme ! I shall be choaked instead of him— ~ seize him ! Where '& his Lordship? Fer, V\\ find him directly. — 1 know I shall suc- ceed to the situation he has dishonoured — that^s all the comfort I can aftbrd ; and if he wants more, let him look for it in his own breast. [Exit. Fred. (^Afiart.) I will look there. Gen, You have disgraced the chanty that fos- tered you — ^}*our example may palsy the warm hand of benevolence, and many an innocent may suffer for \'our crime. Fred, Oh! Julia, {luithoiU,') What do I hear ! Fil not be- lieve it. Fred. Julia's voice ! — Oh, save me from this — ^.ead me to my prison. Gen. Hold ! — • Enter Julia. juIia, O Frederick ! then it is so — father, sup- port me 1 Gen, Look at this girl — the daughter of Gene- ral Tarragan — more — -the heiress to a princely fortune- — nay, more— .-the darling child of an honest man. — I don't cry you rascal ! now, do I ? — tihe, yes, she confessed she loved you. Fred, Oh, brain! brain! brain! Ge7i, Recover, and hear more. — I, like a fond father — no, like a damned old rascal — was about to ask Lord Avondalc's consent to your union. Now, away with him ! Fred, Hold off one moment — (^he breaks from them and falls at Julia's feet^ — Angel of pity, through v.' hose cherub lips the breath of hatred never yet found way — oh, do not curse me ! Julia, Sav, then, you are innocent. g2 78 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM* Fred, I am. yulia. Innocent? Fred Oh, niost unfortunate. Gen. Away with him, I ^ay ! Fred. Stand offl — Julia mine — that heaven within my reach. Instant conduct me t<* — Julia. Where? — speak, speak, Frederick—' where ? Fred. To — (after a struggle xvhlch overpoxvers him J — to my ^^ri^o.i— ( he fcdls ixiiausled iiuhe at" iendants'' lum^^ they bear him oij») Gen, Zounds I l*m as hot as — I'm a portable furnace : — but where is his lordship ; you shall be his instantly : I vvon't eat — I won't sleep — till you are Lady Avcndale. Julia. My haopiness is gone forever. Gen. No, it is not — you shall be happy — you shall beah?ppv briclt. — Fly, rascals', find Lord Avondale (Exeunt Servant^.J Come along, you shall be this duy a happy, happy bride. [Exeunt, SCENE III A Room in the Castie, Enter Lord Avondale follozved by Tyke. Lord A% 071. My good fellow — Tyke, B*e&s me, my Lord, what can be the matter I Lord Avon. I am distracted. Tyke. Oh, now I understand — ^he's going to be married, roor man ; and, of course, in a taking about ir — v. hy, that's all natural enough. Lord AvoL, Hear me — Frederick has been de- tectf r — " Tyke. Detected'. Lord Avon, In the commission of a robbery. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 79 Tyke. What ! that mask — that pistol — (shak- ing his head. J L:rd Avoiu Hush ! Dost thou not pity him ? Tyke. I do, indeed 1 — poor lad I — 1 say, you know he is not h Jf so bad as either ot us. Lord Avon, iiobcrt, I was once diy iandlord— • 1 trust not a severe one Tyke. Severe 1— nay, that's cutting ; — that's as much as to say that i\'e for^^ot your kindness to ,me. — Did you not put me to school ? and though I settled all ruy matters there in a month, that was no fault of yours : yoii gave me money- - if I mistised it, you were not to blame : only tell me how I can show my love, honesth', we' sub- mission like — Lord A^jon. Procure Frtderick''s escape, 'fyke. I'll do my best. Lord Avon. See this purse, 'tis richly stored ; and, properly disposed of, it may do much : — pro- mise any thing — half my estates ; and remember, Robert, that in saving him you will preserve my life. Tyke. What ! your life ? — that's enough.-— {Takes the purse and runs off'^ Lord Avon. Never, Frederick, shall judgment be pronounced against thee. — Here I swear, that if the hour of trial come, Avondaie will stand forth arrayed in all his guilt, and save that inno- cent, that noble youth. Enter Peter. Peter, General Tarragan requests your imme- diate attendance — He entreats the marriage cere- mony may instantly take place — (^Lord Avondaie starts.y^ThQ preparations have already began* sa THE SCHOOL OF REFORM, Lord Avon* I'll come to him. (^E^it Peter. ^i Marriagt— why does the thought terrify r My heart ceases to beat— my numbed limbs seem to fasten on the earth, and the faded form of Emih' fiits before my dazzled sight.— Let me shake off this horrid lethargy— let me collect my thoughts. (^Stnks into a chair.) Enter Mr. and Mrs, Ferment at the back Scene, Fer. There he is — he seems unhappy ; but as soon as he perceives me, you'll see the difference, I suppose the evidence of your ov/n eyes and ears will convince you ? now mark the attention, the — the joy. — How do you do, my Lord, — ^liow do you do ? {Lord Avondale looks — then turns from him — Fermenty disappointed^ carries his chair round to the other side, ' — *I see how it is, rnv lord ; the villainy of that young viper, which you foster- ed in your bosom — but I flatter mvself, that, in your humble servant, you will find more talent, and a zeal warm as- — Lord Avon* Did you speak ? Ftr. Yes, a little. Lord Avon. Oh! (relapsing into inattention.) Fer, But for me the monster would have escap- ed. Lord Avon* (Starting up and turning to him. J Ah ! indeed I Fer* (Apart.) Oh I now we come on a little — Did not your lordship know that I detected him ? — Lord Avon* No — (restraitihig his rage.) ^ Fer* Oh! all owing to me — -caught a g'impse of the villain in my house — followed him up close — he thought to frighten me, Pugh — fired at me, received his shot like a castle — it passed through my hat — not this hat — but I take no merit. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. ai I/^rd. Avon, Yet take — Fer. Oh> my sweet lord I — any thing that you propose — Lord Avon, Yes — take my everlasting curses, \_Exit. Fer. Oh, lord ! oh, dear ! I'm very ill. — Fanny, wife — one word — only one — let me hear some voice besidemy own in this damned infernal house, as poor Juliet says, or I shall faint. . Mrs, Fer. Do you confess you are wrong ? Fer. I do. Mrs, Fer, Will you abandon your schemes ? Fer. I will. Mrs, Fer, Will you sometimes follow my ad- vice ? Fer. Always — ^you shall be my magnet. Mrs, Fer. The first that ever attracted lead, I believe — ha ! ha ! Fer, Say what you will, only talk — and if ever I go a lord-hunting again, may I lose this worth- less head ! Mrs. i^^r.Then, if ever I think of ruling again, may I lose your estimable heart ! Fer. What ! don't make me cry — then,' that for you, old sour-crout (snapping his fingers. J — 1 have a plan I Mrs, Fer. A plan ! (alarmed.) Mrs.^Ftr, A plan for imitating your silence, my dear Fanny. Mrs, Fer, Then my plan shall be to imitate your prattling — You know, after so long a silence — • Fer, You must have a great number of worcls by you. Mrs, Fer, I shall talk till I tire you. Fer, No, vou won't. Mrs, Fer, Yes, I shall. Fer, Nc — Oh, delicious 1 charming ! [^Exeunt^ embracing. (C «2 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. SCENE IV. — Inside of a prison, — Fredejiick discovered ; hisjigure and dress bespeak the deso- lation of his mind, Frederick, When the contemplative mhid approaches death, how Uttle seems the mighty war of passions which agitate this atom, man ! " But how tedious are ' the hours — and, if to the breast of innocence a prison brings its terrors, what must his suffer- " ings be, whose sole companions are those " thoughts which haunt his guiUy breast ?^— O Julia J«»»-to know thy love only to meet thy hate ! Perhaps even now he leads her to the altar — Ah 1 that thought is madness — but no, it cannot be-— . this is no hour for joy — my fate must banish plea- sure from their hearts — ^no — no — ^'tis impossible. I wrong my friend — I wrong thee, lovely Julia ! CA chime of bells at a distance,) Ah I those soonds — it is the marriage peel — and with it, my dying knell ! — Julia, hear me — I am innocent!— Avondale, hold — inhuman, guilty man I (^77/e door is unlocked,'-^Enter Tyke and Jador — Tyke 7not:cr.s yaUor to retire — Jailor exit.) Tyke. There he is, poor fellow I-^ — yet I think he looks innocent — :xt least I am pratty sure, when I used to look intid' glass, I never saw any thing like that — I say — I is come to comfort thee like — ^ — I hope thou repents of what thou hast done ? Fred, No. Tyke. Oh dear ! he's not fit to die ' — I mun get him away — I say. Lord Avondale sent me to — Fred, Oh ! — ^leave me ! Tyke, But I won't though— thou mun try to escape. THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 83 Fred, I will not escape — Be gone, rascal ! Tyke. Rascal ! — well, 1 was one, and I mun bear it — but — Fred, Dare not approach me. Tijke, Pugh 1 Pugh ! (advancing,) Fred, Must I, then, force you from my pre- sence I C strikes him, J Tyke, A blow 1 — (seizes Frederick by the collar ; the action forces open the neck of his shirty sees the F marked on bis neck ; he tremblinghj lets go^ and points to the mark.) Fred. What do you point at ? Tyke, At — at — I hardly dare look again ! — Eh ! ^Tis he — 'tis he ! (-with great animation,) Fred, This mark ! Tyke, I made it — I'll take my oath on't. I've found him ! — IVe found him ! Fred, Speak ! Tyke. Come to thy father's— Come to Lord Avondale ! Fred, Ah ! — have 1 then suffered in a father's cause ! Oh, do not deceive me ! Tyke. Why, do I look like such a savage beast, tlien ? — See here ! (placing his hands on his moist eyes and shewing them,) Believe my eyes, if you won't my tongue. I've often danced thee on my knee !— feive me thy hand ! Enter Jailor, Jailor . What's the matter here ? l^red. My happiness — ^the happiness of Lord Avondale — is in ijour power. The property in question was my own, the legacy of an unfortunate mother. Pinion me, hand and foot, only bring me to^my father ! Tyke. Do — I'll stay here for him.— No, I can't do that— ^I must be in the thick on't. 84 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. Fred, Be merciful — I will not iiy ! Jailor, Why, I believe 1 may veutiire to take you to the castle. Tijke, You may. I'll hold him fast round the neck — and then his father \vi;l hold him fast round the neck. Fred. Oh ! each moment is an age ? Jailor, Well — let me find the key. Tyke, Oh, never mind key — (rushes against the door — it opens,) There — come — come, \_Exeunt. SCENE the last. — A Gothic Chapel illuminated ; the entrance of the choir in the back scene^ with steps to ascend — -folding-doors conceal the in- terior of the chapel — Music behind the scenes — a Marriage Procession enters — then Lord Avon- dale, Julia, and General Tarragan. Gen, Well, my Lord, the joyful hour has at length arrived. 1 fancy it would be difficult to find three happier people. {^Lord Avondale bows,) Nov/, farewel to Julia Tarragan ! — a name my tongue has dwelt on with rapture, and demands a parting tear. Kiss me, my girl ! — but, I shall see thee grace a nobler name. Well, now to the alter — my Lord, we wait — Lord Avon, f Starting) For mel f Recovering) My lovely bride, your hand — (Theij move to- wards the chapel — the folding-doors are opened^ which discovers Mrs, S , Clair in the dress ofrthc picture^ her right hand pointing to the zuedding ring — Lord Avon dale., advancing vp the steps., be- holds her — falls back into the arms of the atten- dantSi exclaiming) Angels of mercy 1 — Emily !' fFaints,) #• THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. 85 Emily. Yes 1 — ^behold thy innocent— thy much- wronged wife I — CAll express astonishment ^^she comes forward. J Inhuman man ! — hear me I— < Where is my child t — ^where is my darling boy t Tyke. CWithout.J Stand out of the way 1 — here lie comes l^ — here he comes 1— — Enter Frederick gw^Ttke- Fred. Julia ! — married ! — Julia, (Looking down,) No, Frederick! Fred, (Seeing Lord Avondale,) Ah I what means this ? — Father, father 1 hear me ! — It is your son that call* I — Will not that charmed name restore you? Emily. Ah, son 1^— (Leans on Julia, J Fred. (Turning round.) What do I see ?— that form ! — ^that dress ! — Oh, tell me ! — docs my heart deceive me ? — Mother ! — (She rushes into his arms,) I know thy wrongs — my father has be- wailed them with tears of anguish. Oh, forgive him — ^he has been my benefactor — ^he has loved me — he has been a father to me — ^take his hand — there — the warm contact will animate each torpid pulse ; will wake his heart to penitence — to love —-ah, he revives — T.ord ^71'^n, f Recovering — looks round.) Emily ! ^Vhat am I to think ? ^' there— (/>/5' 86 THE SCHOOL OF REFORM. • . Avondale — Julia takes the other hand of Etnily^^ General Tarragan rests on his sticky with his hand- kerchief to his ieyes — Tijke^ with joyful satisfactiom points to the group, J END OF THE PLAY. -j.. -g-mtf- . ^■■>. . -~. ,111 itrrtntf'' ^^' i-^^^^-- ^ - ■#-" .i- .- -..gB'^. . -^^r^^ ^ ■m5>u>= :>K> ,y3 Jy99 Dtm ■D-y^^ 3>»£23fc>:^- 2. 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