PR 3518 
 .P65 
 1809 
 Copy 1 
 
Qass.ZStSM' 
 
 / 
 
iVERY ONE HAS HIS FAULT; 
 
 A COMEDY, 
 
 IN FIVE ACTS; — 4 / 
 
 BY MRS. INCHBALD- 
 
 AS PERyORMED AT TEB 
 
 THEATRE I?,OYAL COVENT GARDEN 
 
 AND AT TBI 
 
 BOSTON THEATRE. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 BLISHBB BT JOHN WEST AMD CO. NO. 75, CORKHflX..' 
 
 1809. 
 
 £. Gi Houfit> Printer^ V9, 5> Cyurt-Strcct. 
 

PROLOGUE. 
 
 BY THE REVEREND MR. NARES. 
 
 OUR Author, who accuses great and small. 
 And says so boldly, there are faults in all ; 
 Sends me with dismal voice, and lengthen'd phiz> 
 Humbly to own one dreadful fault of his : 
 A fault, in modern Authors not uncommon. 
 It is — now don't be angry — He's — a luoman. 
 
 Can you forgive it ? Nay, I'll tell you more, 
 One who has dar'd to venture here before ; 
 Has seen your smiles, your frowns— tremendous sight ! 
 O, be not in a frowning mood to-night ! 
 The Play, perhaps, has many things amiss : 
 Well, let us then reduce the point to this, 
 Let only those that have no failings, hiss. 
 
 The Rights ofivomeni says a female pen. 
 Are, to do every thing as well as Men, 
 To think, to argue, to decide, to write. 
 To talk, undoubtedly — perhaps to fight. 
 (For Females march to war, like brave Commanders, 
 Not in old Authors only — but in Flanders.) 
 
 I grant this matter may be strain'd too far, 
 And Maid 'gainst Man is most tmcivil war : 
 I grant, as all my City Friends will :ray. 
 That Men should rule, and Women should obey : 
 That nothing binds the marriage contract faster. 
 Than our— a " Zounds, Madam, Tm your Lord and 
 
 Master." 
 I grant their nature, an?l their frailty such. 
 Women make too free — and know too much. 
 But since the Sex at length has been inclin'd 
 To cultivate that useful pai:|» — the mind ; — 
 Since they have learnt to read, to write, to spell }— 
 Since spme of them have wit — aqd use it well ;— 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 
 Let us not force them back with brow severe. 
 Within the pale of ignorance and fear, 
 Confin'd entirely to domestic arts, 
 Producing only children, pie?, and tarts. 
 The fav'rite fable of the tuneful Nine, 
 Implies that female genius is di<vine. 
 
 Then, drive not. Critics, with tyrannic rage, 
 A supplicating Fair-one from the Stage ; 
 The Comic Muse perhaps is growing old, 
 Her lovers, you well know, are few and cold. 
 'Tis time then freely to enlarge the plan, 
 Ajid let all those write Comedies — that can, 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONiE 
 
 Covent Garden. 
 
 Lord Norland 
 
 Sir Robert Ramble 
 
 Mr Solus 
 
 Mr Harmonv 
 
 Mr Placid 
 
 Mr Irwin 
 
 Hammond 
 
 Porter 
 
 Edward • 
 
 Mr Barren 
 Mr Lewis 
 Mr Quick 
 Mr Munden 
 Mr Fa-wcett 
 Mr Pope 
 Mr Po-wetl 
 M Thompson 
 Mi s Grist 
 
 Boston. 
 
 Mr Usher 
 Mr Bernard 
 
 Mr Dickenson 
 
 Mr Fox 
 
 Mr Poe 
 
 Mr Cooper 
 
 Mrs Barley 
 
 Lady Eleanor Irwin Mrs Pope Mrs Poivell 
 
 Mrs Placid 
 Miss Spinster 
 Miss WooBUiiN 
 
 Mrs Mattocks Mrs Graupnes 
 Mrs Webb Mrs Barnes 
 Mn Eston Mrs Usher 
 
 Servants, Vfe, 
 ^CENM^fsOnJcn. 
 
EVERY ONE HAS HIS FAULT- 
 
 ACT THE FIRST. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 An Apartment at Mr. PlACId's. 
 
 Enter Mr. Placid and Mr. Solus. 
 
 Plac. YOU are to blame. 
 
 So/. I say the same by you. 
 
 Plac. And yet your singularity pleases me ; for 
 you are the first elderly bachelor I ever knew, who 
 did not hug himself in the reflection, that he was not 
 in the trammels of wedlock. 
 
 Sol. No ; I am only the first elderly bachelor who 
 has truth and courage enough, to confess his dissat* 
 isfaction. 
 
 Plac. And you really wish you were married ? 
 
 Sol. I do. I wish still more, that I had been mar- 
 ried thirty years ago. Oh ! I wish that a wife and 
 half a score children would now start up around 
 me, and bring along with them all that affection, 
 which we should have had for each other by being 
 earlier acquainted. But as it is, in my present state, 
 there is not a person in the world I care a straw for ; 
 — and the world is pretty even with me, for I don't 
 believe there is a creature in it who cares a straw for 
 me. 
 
 A 2 
 
6 EVERY ONE [Inchbald, 
 
 Plac. Pshaw ! You have in your time been a man 
 of gallantry ; and, consequently, must have made 
 many attachments. 
 
 Sol. Yes, sucji as men of galantry usually make. 
 I have been attached to women, who have purloined 
 my fortune, and to men, who have partaken of the 
 theft : I have been in as much fear of my mistress, 
 as you are of your wife. 
 
 Plac, Is that possible I 
 
 Sol. Yes; and without having one of those tender, 
 delicate, ties of a husband, an excuse for my appre? 
 hension. — I have maintained children 
 
 Pla€. Then yi^hy do you complain for the want of 
 a family ? 
 
 Sol. I did not say, I ever had any children ; I said, 
 I had maintained them ; but I never believed they 
 were mine ; for I could have no dependence upon 
 the principles of their mother — and never did I take 
 one of those tender infants in my arms, that the fore- 
 head of my valet, the squint eye of my apothecary, 
 or the double chin of my chaplain, did not stare me 
 in the face, and damp all the fine feelings of the pa? 
 rent, which T had just called up. 
 
 Plac, But those are accidents, which may occur in 
 the marriage state. 
 
 Sol. In that case, a man is pitied — in mine, he is 
 only laughed at. 
 
 Plac. I wish to heaven I could exchange the pity 
 which my friends bestow on me, for the merriment 
 which your ill fate excites. 
 
 Sol. You want but courage to be envied. 
 
 Plac. Does any one doubt my courage ? 
 
 Sol, No; if a prince were to offend you, you 
 would challenge him 
 
 Plac. But if my wife offend me, I am obliged to 
 make an apology. — Was not that her voice ? I hope 
 she has not overheard our conversation. 
 
 Sol. If she have, she'll be in an ill humour. 
 
 Plac, That she will be, whether sh^ have h^eard i^ ^ 
 or not. 
 
ylct /.] HAS HIS FAULT. 7 
 
 So/. Well, good day. I don*t like to be driven 
 from my fixed plan of wedlock ; and, therefore, I 
 >vont be a spectator cf your mutual discontent. 
 
 \ Going, 
 
 Plac. But before you go, Mr. Solus, permit nie 
 to remind you of a certain concern, that; I think, 
 would afford you much more delight, than all you 
 .can> at this time of life propose to yourself in mar- 
 riage. Make happy, by your beneficence, a near re- 
 lation, whom the truest affection has drawn into that 
 state, but who ij denied the blessing of competency, 
 to make the state supportable. 
 
 SoL You mean my nephew, Irwin ? But do not 
 you acknowledge he has a wife and children ? Did 
 not he marry the woman he loved, and has he not, 
 at this moment, a large family, by whom he is be- 
 loved ? And is he not, therefore, with all his poverty, 
 much happier than I am I He has often told me, 
 when I have reproached him with his indiscreet mar? 
 riage, <♦ that in his wife he possessed kingdoms !" Do 
 you suppose I will give any part of my fortune to a 
 man who enjoys such extensive domain ? No : — let 
 himp reserve his territories, and I will keep my little 
 ^state for my ovv^n use. Ei^^it' 
 
 Plac, John ! John ! 
 
 Enter Sep.vant. 
 
 Has your mistress been inquiring for me ? 
 
 John. Yes, sir: — My lady asked, just now, if J 
 knew who was with you ? 
 
 Plac. Did she seem angry ? 
 
 'John. No, sir ; — pretty well. 
 
 Plac. You scoundrel, what do you mean by "pret-p 
 ty well V^ \In A?iger, 
 
 John, Much as usual, sir. 
 
 Plac. And do you call that <* pretty well ?" You 
 
 scoundrel, I have a great mind 
 
 Enter Mrs Placid, Speaking njery loud. 
 
 Mrs. P. What is the matter, mV. Placid ? What 
 is all this noise about ? You know I hate a npise.-rr 
 
S EVERY ONE [Inchbald, 
 
 What is the matter ? 
 
 ■Plac. My dear, I was only finding fault with that 
 blockhead. • 
 
 Mrs. P. Pray, Mr. Placid, do not find fault with 
 any body in this house. But I have something which 
 I must take you very severely to task about, sir. 
 
 Plac. No, my dear, not just now, pray. 
 
 Mrs. P. Why not now ? 
 
 Plac. {Looking at his Watch.) Because dinner will 
 be ready in a very few minutes. I am very hungry, 
 and it will be cruel of you to spoil my appetite. — 
 John, is the dinner on table ? 
 
 Mrs. P. No, John, don't let it be served yet — Mr. 
 Placid, you shall first hear what I have to say. 
 
 {Sitting do'ivn.— Exit Servant. 
 
 Plac* But then I know I shall not be able to eat a 
 morsel. 
 
 Mrs. P. Sit down. (Placid jzVj )— I believe Mr. 
 Placid, you are going to do a very silly thing. I am 
 afraid you are going to lend some money ? 
 
 Plac. Well, my dear, suppose T am ? 
 
 Mrs. P. Then, I don't approve of people lending 
 their money. 
 
 Plac. But, my dear, I have known you approve of 
 borrowing money : and, once in our lives, what 
 should we have done, if every body had refused to 
 lend. 
 
 Mrs. P. Thai is nothing to the purpose. And, now, 
 I-desire you will hear what I say, without speaking a 
 word yourself. 
 
 Plac. Well, my dear. 
 
 Mrs. P. Now, mind you don't speak, till I have 
 done. — Our old acquaintance, Capt. Irwin, and Lady 
 Eleanor, his wife (with whom we lived upon very in- 
 timate terms, to be sure, while we were in America,) 
 are returned to London ; and, I find, you have visited 
 them very frequently. 
 
 Plac. Not above two or three times, upon my 
 word.; far it hurts me to see them in distress, and I 
 forbear to go. 
 
JctL] HAS HIS FAULT. 9 
 
 Mrs. P. There ! you own they are m distress ; I 
 expected as much. Now, own to me that they have 
 asked yoxi to lend them money. 
 
 Plac. I do own it — I do own it. Now, are you 
 satisfied ? 
 
 Mrs. P. No : for I have no doubt but you have 
 promised they shall have it. 
 
 Plac. No, upon my v/ord I have not promised. 
 
 Mrs. P. Then promise me they shall not. 
 
 Plac. Nay, my dear, you have no idea of their 
 unhappy situation. 
 
 Mrs. P. Yes, I have ; and 'tis that which makes 
 me suspicious. 
 
 Plac. Hi: regiment is now broken ; all her jewels, 
 and little bawbles, are disposed of; and he is in 
 such dread of his old creditors, that, in the lodging 
 they have taken, he pas es by the name of Middle- 
 ton — they have three more children, my dear, than 
 when we left them in New York ; and they have, in 
 vain, eni repeated supplications, both to his uncle, 
 and her father, for the .^ir'allest bounty. 
 
 Mrs. P. And is not her father, my Lord Norland, 
 a remarkable wise man, and a good man ? and ought 
 you to do for them, what he has refused .'' 
 
 Plac. They have offended him, but they have nev? 
 er offended me. 
 
 Mrs. P. I 'hink, 'tis an offence, to ask a friend for 
 money, when«thcre is no certainty of returning it. 
 
 P/ac. By no mean^ : for, if there were a certainty, 
 even an enemy might lend. 
 
 Mrs. P. But I insist, Mr. Placid, that they shall 
 not find a friend in you upon this occasion. — What 
 do you say, ir ? 
 
 Plac. \_Afttr a Jtrttggk.] No, my dear, they shalj 
 not. 
 
 Airs. P. Positively shall not ? 
 
 Plac. Positively shall not — since they have found 
 an enemy in you. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 Serv. Dinner is on table. ♦ 
 
10 EVERY ONE {InchbaU. 
 
 Plac. Ah ! I am not hungry now. 
 
 Mrs. P. What do you mean by that, Mr. Placid ,? 
 I insist on your being hungry. 
 
 Plac. Oh, yes ! I have a very excellpnt appetite. 
 I shall eat prodigiously. 
 
 Mrs. P. You had better. {Exeunt 
 
 SCENE 11^ 
 
 An Apartment at Mr. Harmony's. 
 Enter Mr. HarxMOmy, followed by Miss Spinster, 
 
 ilfm S. Cousin, cousin Harmony, I will not for- 
 give you, for thus continually speaking in the behalf 
 of every servant whom you find me offended with. 
 Your philanthropy becomes insupportable ; and, in- 
 stead of being a virtue, degenerates into a vice. 
 
 Har. Dear madam, do not upbraid me for a con- 
 stitutional fault. 
 
 Mks S. Very true; you had it from your infancy. 
 J have heard your mother say, you were always 
 foolishly tender hearted, and never showed one of 
 those discriminating passions of envy, hatred, or re- 
 venge, to which ail her other children were liable. 
 
 Har. No : since I can remember, I have felt the 
 most unbounded affection fot- all my fellow creatures. 
 I even protest to you, dear madam, that ab I walk 
 along the streets of this large metropolis, so warm is 
 my heart towards every person who passes me, that I 
 long to say, " How do you do ?" and, " I am glad 
 to see you, " to them all. Some men, I should like 
 even to stop, and shake hand* with ; — and some wo- 
 men, I should ]ike even to stop, and kiss. 
 
 Miss S. How can you be so ridiculous ! 
 
 Har. Nay, 'tis truth : and I sincerely lament, that 
 human beings should be such strangers to one another 
 as we are ! We live in the same street, without know^ 
 ing one another's necessities ; and oftentimes meet 
 ,and part from each other at church, at coffeehousies^ 
 
Act L] HAS HIS FAULT. 1 r 
 
 playhouses, and all public places, — without ever 
 speaking a single word, or nodding " Good b'ye !'* 
 though His a hundred chances to ten we never see one 
 another again. 
 
 Miss S. Let me tell you, kinsman, all this pretend- 
 ed philanthropy renders you ridiculous. There is 
 not a fraud, a theft, or hardly any vice committed, 
 that you do not take the criminal's part, shake your 
 head, and cry, " Provisions are so scarce !" And 
 no longer ago than last Lord Mayor's Day, when you 
 wTere told that Mr. Alderman Ravenous was ill with 
 an indigestion, you endeavoured to soften the mat- 
 ter, by exclaiming, "Provisions are so scarce !" — But, 
 above all, I condemn that false humanity, which 
 induces you to say many things in conversation, 
 which deserve to stigmatize you with the character 
 of deceit. 
 
 Har. This is a weakness, I confess. But though 
 my honour sometimes reproaches me with it, my 
 conscience never does : for it is by this very failing 
 that I have frequently made the bitterest enemies 
 friends — Just by saying a few harmless sentences, 
 which, though a species of falsehood and deceit, yet, 
 being soothing and acceptable to the person offended, 
 I have immediately inspired him with lenity and for- 
 giveness ; and then, by only repeating the self-same 
 sentences to his opponent, I have known hearts cold 
 and closed to each other, warmed and expanded, as 
 every human creature's ought to be. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv. Mr. Solus. [^^^-/V Servant. 
 
 Miss S. I cannot think, Mr. Harmony, why you 
 keep company with that old bachelor ; he is a man, 
 of all others on earth, I dislike ; and so I am obliged 
 to quit the room, though I have a thousand things 
 more to say. [Exit angrily. 
 
 Enter Solus. 
 
 Har, Mr. Solus, how do you do i 
 
IJS EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 Sol. I am very lonely at home ; will you come and 
 dine with me ? 
 
 Har. Now you are here, you had better stay with 
 me : we have no company j only my couain Miss 
 Spinster and myself. 
 
 Sol. No, I must go home ; do come to my honse. 
 
 Har. Nay, pray stay ; what objection can you 
 have ? 
 
 Sol. Why, to tell you the truth, your relation. 
 Miss Spinster, is no great favourite of mine ; and I 
 don't like to dine with you, because I don't like her 
 company. 
 
 Har. That is, to me, surprising ! 
 
 Sol. Why, old bachelors and old maids never 
 agree : we are too much alike in our habits : we know 
 our own hearts so well, we are apt to discover every 
 foible we would wish to forget, in the symptoms dis- 
 played by the other. Miss Spinster is peevish, fretful, 
 and tiresome, and I am always in a fidget when I am 
 in her company. 
 
 Har. How different are her sentiments of you ! 
 for one of her greatest joys is to be in your compa- 
 ny. [Solus starts and smiles.] Poor woman ! she has 
 to be sure, an uneven temper — 
 
 Sol. No, perhaps I am mistaken. 
 
 Har. But I will assure you, I never see her in half 
 such good humor as when you are here : for I be- 
 lieve you are the greatest favorite she has. 
 
 Sol. I am very much obliged to her, and I certainly 
 am mistaken about her temper — Some people, if they 
 look ever so cross, are good natured in the main ; 
 and I dare say she is so. Besides, she never has had, 
 a husband to sooth and soften her disposition ; and 
 there should be some allowance made for that. 
 
 Har. Will you dine with us ? 
 
 Sol. I don't care if I do. Yes, I think I will. . I 
 must liowever step home first : — but Til be back in 
 a quarter of an hour. — My compliments to Miss 
 Spinster, if you should see her before I return. iExii* 
 
Act L] HAS HIS FAULT. 1 s 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 Ser-v. My lady begs to know, sir, if you have invit- 
 ed Mr. Solus to dine ? because if you have, she shall 
 go out. [Exit Servant.. 
 
 E72fer Miss Spinster. 
 
 Har. Yes, madam, I could not help inviting him ; 
 for, poor man, his own house is in such a state for 
 want of proper management, he cannot give a com- 
 fortable dinner himself. 
 
 Miss S. And so he must spoil the comfort of 
 mine. 
 
 Har. Poor man ! poor man I after all the praises 
 he has been lavishing upon you ! 
 
 Miss S. What praises ? 
 
 Ha'» I won't tell you : for you won't believe 
 them. 
 
 Miss S. Yes, I shall. — Oh no— now I recollect, 
 this is some of your invention. 
 
 Har. Nay I told him it was bis invention ; for he 
 declared you looked better last night, than any other 
 lady at the Opera. 
 
 Miss S. Well, this sound* like truth : and, depend 
 upon it, though I never liked the manners of Mr. So- 
 lus much, yet — 
 
 Har. Nay, Solus has his faults. 
 
 Miss S. So we have all. 
 
 Har. And will you leave him and me to dine by 
 ourselves ? 
 
 Miss S. Oh no, I cannot be guilty of such ill man- 
 ners, though I talked of it. Besides, poor Mr. Solus 
 does not come so often, and it would be wrong not to 
 show him all the civility we can. For my part, I 
 have no dislike to the man ; and, if taking a bit of 
 dinner with us now and then can oblige either you or 
 him, I should be to blame to make any objection. — 
 Oome, let us go into the drawing-room to receive 
 him. 
 
 Har. Ay ! this is right : this is as it should be. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 B 
 
14 EVERY ONE {Inehbal/, 
 
 SCENE UI0 
 
 A Room at the Lodg'mgs o/Mr. Irwin# 
 Mr. Irwin and Lady Eleanor Irwin discovered. 
 
 Lady E, My dear husband, my dear Irwin, I can- 
 not bear to see you thus melancholy. Is this the 
 joy of returning to our native country, after a nine 
 years' banishment ? 
 
 Irw. Yes : For I could bear my misfortunes, my 
 wretched poverty, with patience, in a land where our 
 sorrows were shared by those about us ; but here, ia 
 London, where plenty and ease smjle upon every 
 face ; where, by your birth you claim distinction, and 
 and I by services ; — here to be in want,— to be ob- 
 liged to take another name, through shame of our 
 own, — to tremble at the voice of every stranger, for 
 fear he should be a creditor,t—to meet each old ac- 
 quaintance with an averted eye, because we would 
 not feel the pang of being shunned. To have no re* 
 ward for all this, even in a comfortable home ; but in 
 this our habitation, to see our children looking up 
 to me for that support I have not in my power to 
 give — Can I, — can I love them and you, and not be 
 miserable ? 
 
 Lady E, Yet I am not so. Anjl I am sure you will 
 Hot doubt my love to you or them. 
 
 Imv. I met my uncle this morning, and was mean 
 enough to repeat ray request to him :— he burst into 
 a lit of laughter, and told me my distresses were the 
 result of my ambition, in man-ying the daughter of a 
 nobleman, who himself was too ambitious ever to 
 pardon us. 
 
 Lady E, Tell me no more of what he said. 
 
 Irw, This was a day of trials ; — I saw your father 
 too. 
 
 Lady. E, My father ! Lord Norland ! Oh He^^ 
 vens! 
 
 Irw» He passed me in his carriage. 
 
Avt /.] HAS HIS FAULT. 15 
 
 Lady E. I Envy you the blessing of seeing him ! 
 For, oh ! — Excuse my tears — he is ray father still. 
 — How did he look ? 
 
 /rw. As well as he did at the time I used to watch 
 him from his house, to steal to you. — But I am sorry 
 to acquaint you, that, to guard himself against all re- 
 turning love for you, he has, I am informed, adopt-p 
 ed a young lad, on whom he bestows every mark of 
 that paternal affection, of which you lament the 
 loss. 
 
 Lady E. May the young man deserve his tender- 
 ness better than I have done — May he never disobey 
 him — May he be a comfort, and cherish his benefac- 
 tor's declining years — And when his youthful passions 
 teach him to love, may they not, like mine, teach him 
 disobedience ! 
 
 Enter a Servant fwith a letter. 
 
 What is that letter ? 
 
 Sfr-u. It comes from Mr. Placid, the aerv'ant, who 
 brought it, said, and requires no answer. \Exit* 
 
 Irciv, It's stiange how I tremble at every letter | 
 see, as if I dreaded the contents. How poverty has 
 unmanned me! (Aside) I must tell you, my dear, that 
 finding myself left this morning without a guinea, I 
 wrote to Mr. Placid, to borrow a small sum : This is 
 his answer; f Reading the Superscription, J To Mr. 
 MiddL'ton. — That's right : he remembers the caution 
 I gave him. I had forgot whether I had done so, for 
 my memory is not so good as it was. I did not even 
 now recollect this hand, though it is one I am so well 
 acquainted with, and ought to give me joy rather 
 than sorrow. {Opens the letter hastily^, reads, and iett 
 it drop ) Now I have not a friend on earth. 
 
 Lady E. Yes, you have me. You forget me. 
 
 Irtw. (In a transport of grief) I would forget you 
 —you — and all your children. 
 
 Lady E. I would not lose the remembrance of you 
 or of them, for all my father's fortune. 
 
 Irw. What ara | to do ? I must leave you I I iiiu&t 
 
115 EVERY ONE \lnckbald. 
 
 go, I know not whither ! I cannot Ptay to see you 
 perish. {T^kes his kcJ^ iin4 h going. 
 
 Lady E. {holding htm.) Where would you go? 'tis 
 iCvening — 'tis dark — Wliither would you go at this 
 -time ? 
 
 /ray. [Distractedly.] I must consider what's to be 
 .done — and in thi::-room my thoughts ^.eem too confi- 
 ned to reflect. 
 
 Lady E. And are London streets calculated for re- 
 ■ flection ? 
 
 Ir<w No ; for action. To hurry the faint thought 
 to resolution. 
 
 Lady E. You are not well — Your health has been 
 lately '^ impaired. — Your temper has undergone a 
 .change too ; — I tremble lest any accident — 
 
 Irnv. What accident ? [Wildly. 
 
 Lady E. I know your provocations from an un* 
 ^ grateful world : But despise it : as that despises you. 
 
 Ir^v. But for your cake, I could. 
 
 Lady E. Then witness, Heaven, I am happy ! — 
 Though bred in all the delicacy, the luxury of wealth 
 and splendour ; yet I have never murmured at the 
 change of fortune, while that change has made me 
 wife to you, and mother of your children. 
 
 7rw. We will be happy — ifpo<«ible. But give me 
 this evening to consider what plan to fix upon. — 
 There is no time to lo.'e : we are without friends — 
 without money, — without credit. — Farewell for an 
 hour. — I Avill see Mr. Placid, if T can ; and though he 
 have not the money to lend, he may perhaps, give me 
 some advice. 
 
 Lady E. Suppose I call on her ? — Women are some- 
 time more comiderate than men, and — 
 
 /rw. Do you for the best, and so will I. — Heaven^ 
 bless you I [Exeunt separately. 
 
Act //.] HAS HIS FAULT. it 
 
 ACT THE SECOND. 
 
 SCENE 1. 
 
 A Coffee or Club Room at a Tai'etn. 
 
 filter Sir Robert Ramble — Mr. Solus and 
 Mr. Placid <2^ /Z?^ opposite Side, 
 
 Sol. Sir Robert Ramble, how do you do ? 
 
 Sir R. My dear Mr. Solus, I am glad to see you. 
 2 have been dining by myself, and now come into this 
 public room, to meet with some good company. 
 
 Sol. Ay, Sir Robert, you are now reduced to the 
 same necessity which I frequently am — I frequently 
 am obliged to dine at taverns and coffeehouses, for 
 want of company at home. 
 
 Sir R. I protest I am never happier than in a house 
 like this, where a man may meet his friend without 
 the inconvenience of form, either as a host or a visitor. 
 
 Sol. Sir Robert, give me leave to introduce to you 
 Mr. Placid, he has been many years abroad ; but I 
 ijelieve he now means to remain in his own country 
 for the rest of his life. This, Mr. Placid, is Sir Rob- 
 ert Ramble. 
 
 Sir.R. [To Mr.. Placid.] Sir, I shall be happy in 
 your acquaintance, and assure you, if you will do me 
 the honour to meet me now and then at this house, 
 jou will find every thing very pleasant. I venly be- 
 lieve that since I lost my wife, which is now aboui 
 Sve months ago, I verily believe 1 have dined here 
 three days out of the seven. 
 
 Plac. Have you lost your wife, sir ? And so lately ? 
 
 Sir R. fHlth great indifference.) Yes, sir ; about 
 five months ago — Is it not, Mr. Sohjs ? You keep ac- 
 count of such things better than I dq. 
 B2 
 
18 EVERY ONE Inchbald. 
 
 Sol. Oh ! ask me no questions about your wife, Sir 
 Robert ; if she had been mine, I would have had her 
 to this moment. 
 
 P/ac. What, wrested her from the gripe of death ? 
 
 Sir R. No, sir ; only from the gripe of the Scotch 
 lawyers. 
 
 Sol. More shame for you. Shame to wish to be 
 divorced from a virtuous wife. 
 
 P'ac. Was that the case ? Divorced from a virtu- 
 ous wife ! I never heard of such a circumstance before. 
 Pray, Sir Robert fVery ajixiously.) will yon indulge 
 me, by letting me know in what manner you were 
 able to bring about so great an eVent ? 
 
 Sir R. It may appear strange to you, sir ; but my 
 wife and I did not live happy together. 
 
 Plac, Not at all strange, sir ; I can conceive — I can 
 conceive very well. 
 
 Sol. Yes, he can conceive that part to perfection. 
 
 Sir R. And so, I was determined on a divorce. 
 
 Plac But then her character could not be unim- 
 peached. 
 
 Sir R. Yes, it was, sir. You must knov.-, we were 
 married in Scotland ; and by the laws there, a wife 
 can divorce her husband for breach of fidelity ; and 
 so, though my wife's character was unimpeached, 
 mine was not — and she divorced me. 
 
 Plac. Is this the law in Scotland ? 
 
 Sol. It is. Blessed, blessed, country ! that will bind 
 young people together before the years of discretion, 
 and, as soon as they have discretion to repent, will 
 unbind them again ! 
 
 Plac. 1 wish I had been married in Scotland. 
 
 Sol. But, Sir Robert, with all this boasting you 
 must own that your divorce has greatly diminished 
 your fortune. 
 
 Sir R. (Taking Sohn aside. ) Mr. Solus, you have 
 frequently hinted at my fortune being impaired ; but 
 I do not approve of such notions being received 
 abroad. 
 
 Sol. I beg your pardon ; but every body knows that 
 
j^ct II.] HAS HIS FAULT, 19 
 
 you have played very deep lately, and have been a 
 great loser : and every body knoAvs • 
 
 Sir R. No, sir, every body does not know it, for I 
 contradict the report v/hcrever I go. A man of fash^ 
 ion d'oes not like to be reckoned poor, no more than 
 he likes to be reckoned unhappy. We none of us en- 
 deavour to be happy, sir, but merely to be thought 
 KO ; and for my part, I had rather be in a state of mis- 
 ery, and envied for my supposed happiness, than in a 
 state of happiness, and pitiedior my supposed misery. 
 
 5"^?/. But, consider, these misfortunes, v/hich I have 
 just hinted at, are not of any serious nature, only such 
 as a few years economy 
 
 Sir R. But, were my wife and her guardian to be* 
 come acquaintedjtt'ith these little misfortunes, they 
 would triumph in my embarrassments. 
 
 Sol. Lady Ramble triumph ! [They Join MRc Pla,- 
 ciD.] She, who was so firmly attached to you, that I 
 believe nothing but a compliance with your repeated 
 request to be separated, caused her to take the step 
 she did. 
 
 Sir R. Yes, T believe she did it to oblige me, and 
 I am very much obliged to her. 
 
 Sol. As good a woman, Mr. Placid 
 
 Sir R. Very good — but very ugly. 
 
 Sol. She is beautiful. 
 
 Sir R. [To Solus.] I tell you, sir, she is hideous. 
 And then she was grown so insuiferably peevish. 
 
 Sol. I never saw her out of tem.per. 
 
 Sir R. Mr. Solus, it is very uncivil of you to praise 
 Ijer before my face. Lady Ramble, at the time I 
 parted with her, had every possible fault both of 
 mind and person, and so I made love to other wo- 
 men in her presence ; told her bluntly, that I was 
 tired of her ; that I was very soiTy to make her un- 
 easy, but that I could not love her any longer. — 
 And was not that frank and open ? 
 
 Sol. Oh that I had but such a wife as she was ! 
 
 Sir R. I must own I loved her myself when she 
 v;2S vounp;. 
 
20 EVERY ONE [Inchbald, 
 
 Sol. Do you call her old ? 
 
 Sir R. In years I am certainly older than she, but 
 the difference of sex makes her a great deal older than 
 I am. For instance, Mr. Solus, you have often la- 
 mented not being married in your youth ; but if you 
 had, what would you have now done with an old 
 wife, a woman of your own age ? 
 
 Sol. Loved and cherished her. 
 
 Sir R. What, in spite of her loss of beauty ? 
 
 Sol. When she had lost her beauty, most likely I 
 should have lost my eyesight, and have been blind to 
 the wane of her charms. 
 
 Flac. {Anxiously.) But, Sir Robert, you were ex- 
 plaining to me— Mr. Solus, give me leave to speak to 
 ^ir Robert — I feel myself particularly interested on 
 this subject. — And, sir, you were explaining to me — 
 
 Sir R. Very true : Where did I leave off? Oh ! at 
 my ill usage of my Lady Ramble. Yes, 1 did use her 
 very ill, and yet she loved me. Many a time, when 
 she has said to me,—" Sir Robert, I detest your prin- 
 ciples, your manners, and even your person,*' — often 
 at that very instant, I have seen a little sparkle of a wish, 
 peep out of the corner of one eye, that has called out 
 to me, " Oh ! Sir Robert, how I long to make it up 
 with you !" 
 
 Sol. [To Mr. Placid.] Do not you wish that your 
 wife had such a little sparkle at the corner of one of 
 her eyes ? 
 
 Sir R. [To Mr. Placid,] Sir, do you wish to be di- 
 vorsed. 
 
 P/ac. I have no such prospect. Mrs. Placid is 
 faithful, and I was married in England. 
 
 Sir R. But if you have an unconquerable desire to 
 part, a separate maintenance will answer nearly the 
 same end — for if your lady and you will only lay 
 ^own the plan of separation, and agree — 
 
 Plac. But, unfortunately, we never do agree ! 
 
 Sir R. Then speak of parting, as a thing you dread 
 ("Worse than death ; and make it your daily prayer to 
 
Act II] HAS HIS FAULT. 2J 
 
 her, that she will never think of going from vgu— She 
 will determine upon it directly. 
 
 Plac. I thank you ; I am very much obliged to 
 you : I thank you a thousaild times. 
 
 Sir R. Yes T have studied the art of teasing a wife ; 
 and there is nothing vexes her so much as laughing 
 at her. Can you laugh, Mr. Placid ? 
 
 P/ac. I don't know whether I can ; I have not 
 laughed since I married. — But I thank you, sir, for 
 your instructions — I sincerely thank you. 
 
 Sol. And now, Sir Robert, you have had the good- 
 nature to teach this gentleman how to get rid of his 
 <wife, will you have the kindness to teach me how to 
 procure one i 
 
 Erjicr Mr. Irwin. 
 
 Sir R. Hah ! sure I know that gentleman's face ? 
 
 Sol. My nephew ! Let me escape his solicitations. 
 (Aside.) — Here, waiter ! [Exii. 
 
 Plac. Irwin ! {Star ting. )ll^.\'\r)^ sent him a denial, 
 I am ashamed to see him (Aside.) Here Mr. So? 
 1 us ! — Exit following Mr. Solus. 
 
 Irw. ( Aside.) More cool faces ! My necessitiou3 
 visage clears even a club-room. 
 
 Sir R. My dear Captain Irwin, is it you ? Yes, faith 
 it i; — After a nine years' absence, I most sincerely re- 
 joice to 6ee you. 
 
 Ir-iv- Sir Robert, you shake hands with a cordiality 
 I have not experienced these many days, and I thank 
 you. 
 
 Sir R. But what's the matter? You seem to droop 
 — Where have you left your usual spirits ? has ab- 
 sence from your country changed your manners ? 
 
 Irav. No, sir ; but 1 find some of my countrymen 
 •changed. I fancy them less warm, less friendly, thaia 
 they were . and it is that which, perhaps, has this 
 ^effect upon me. 
 
 Sir R. Ami changed ? 
 
 Irw. You appear an exception. 
 
n EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 Sir R. And I ?.ssure you, that instead of being more 
 gloomy, I am even more gay than I was seven years 
 ago ; for then, I was upon the point of matrimony — 
 but now, I am just relieved from its cares. 
 
 Irrjj. 1 have heard so. But I hope you have not 
 taken so great an aversion to the marriage state as ne- 
 ver to marry agam ? 
 
 Sir R. Perhaps not: But -then it must be to some 
 rich heiress. 
 
 Ir-Tv. You are^right to pay respect to fortune. Mo- 
 ney is a necessaiy article in the marriage contract. 
 
 Sir R. Ab to that — that would be no great object 
 z.t pre-ent. No, thank Heaven, my estates -are pretty 
 large ; I have no children ; I have a rich uncle, ex- 
 cellent health, admirable spirits ; — and thus happy, 
 it woyld be very strange if I did not meet my old 
 friends with those smilei which never for a moment 
 quit my countenance. 
 
 Iriv. In the dispensation of the gifts of Providence, 
 how few are blest like you I {Sighing. 
 
 Sir R. And I assure you, my dear Mr. Irwin, it 
 gives me the most serious reflections, and the most 
 sincere concern, that the bulk of mankind are not. 
 
 Irnv* I thank you, sir, most heartily : i thank you 
 for mankind in general, and for myself in particular. 
 For after this generous, unaffected declaration (with 
 iess scruple than I should to any one in the world) 
 I will own to you — that I am at this very time in the 
 utmost waiit of an act of friendship. 
 
 Sir R. {Aside) And so am I- — Now must I confess 
 myself a poor man. ; or pass for an unfeeling one; 
 and I will chuse thelatter. [Boeing ivith great ceremor 
 ny and coldness] Any thing that I can command, is at 
 your service. 
 
 Ir^, [Confounded, and hesitating'] Why, then, Sir 
 Robert — I am almost ashamed to say it — but circum* 
 iJtances have been rather unfavourable* — My wife's 
 father \_Affecting to smile] is not reconciled to us yet 
 — My regiment is Lroke — My uncle will not part 
 ^ith a farthing, — I/?i,dy Eleanor, my wife, \Wipes his 
 
AalL] HAS HIS FAULT. 23 
 
 eyes] has been supported as yet, \<-ith some little de- 
 gree of tenderness, elegance ; and — in short, I owe 
 a small sum, which I am afraid of being troubled for y 
 I want a trifle also for our immediate use, and if you 
 would lend me an hundred pounds — though, upon 
 my honour, 1 am not in a situation to fix the exact 
 time when I can pay it^— 
 
 Sir-R* My dear sir, never trouble yourself about 
 the time of paying it, because it happens not to be in 
 my power to lend it you» 
 
 Iriv. Not in your power ! I beg your pardon ; 
 hut have not you this moment been saying, you are 
 rich ? 
 
 Sir R. And is it not very common to be rich with- 
 out money ? Are not half the town lich ! And yet 
 half the town has no money. I speak for this end of 
 the town, the west end. The Squares, for instance, 
 part of Piccadilly, down St. James's Street, and so 
 home by Pall Mall. We have all, estates, bond^, 
 drafts, and notes of hand without number ; but as 
 for money, we have no such thing belonging to us. 
 
 Irnu. I sincerely beg your pardon. And be assured, 
 sir, nothing should have induced me to have taken 
 the liberty I have done, but the misfortunes of my 
 unhappy family, and having understood by your own 
 words, that you were in affluence. 
 
 Sir R. I am in affluence, I am, I am ; but not in 
 so much, perhaps, as my hasty, inconsiderate account 
 may have given you reason to believe. I forgot to 
 mention several heavy incumbrances, which you will 
 perceive are great drawbacks on my income. — As my 
 wife sued for the divorce, I have her fortune to re- 
 turn ; I have also two sisters to portion otF— a cir- 
 cumstance I totally forgot. But, my good friend, 
 though I am not in circumstances to do what you 
 require, I will do something that shall be better. I'll 
 wait upon your father-in-law, (Lord Norland) and 
 entreat him to forgive, his daughter : and I am sure 
 he will if I ask him. 
 
 Iriv. Impossible. 
 
2^4 EVERY ONE [IncMald, 
 
 Sir R. And so it is, now I recollect : for he is the 
 guardian of my late wife, and a request from me will 
 be receivedworse than from any other person. — How- 
 ever, Mr. Irwin, depend upon it, that whenever I 
 have an oppoitunity of serving you, I will. And 
 whenever you shall do me the favour to call upon me, 
 1 shall be heartily glad to see you. If I am not at 
 home, you can leave your card, which, you know, is 
 all the same ; and depend upon it, I shall be extreme- 
 ly glad to see yon, or that, at any time, [Exit, 
 
 Iriv. Is this my native country ? Is this the hospi- 
 table land which we describe to strangers ? No — We 
 are savages to each other ; nay, w' orse — The savage 
 makes his fellow-savage welcome ; divides with him 
 his homely fare ; gives him the best apartment his 
 hut affords, and tries to hush those griefs that are 
 confided to his bosom — While in this civilized city, 
 among my own countrymen, even among my brother 
 officers in the army, and many of my nearest rela- 
 tions, so very civilized they are, I could not take the 
 liberty to enter under one roof, without a cerem0"« 
 nious invitation, — and that they \v\\\ not give me. I 
 may leave my card at their door, but as for me, or 
 any one of mine, they would not give us a dinner i 
 unless, indeed, it was in such a style, that we might 
 behold with admiration their grandeur, and return 
 still more depressded to our own poverty.— Can I 
 bear this treatment longer ? No, not even for you, 
 my Eleanor. And this {I'aJies out a pistol] shall now 
 be the only friend to whom I will apply — And yet I 
 want the courage to be a villain. 
 
 Enter Mr. Harmony, speaking as he ente s. — Irwin 
 conceals the pistol instantly. 
 
 Har. Let me see half a dozen newspapers — everj? 
 paper of the day. 
 
 Enter Wa.it EVi, 
 Wait. That is about three dozen, sir. 
 
Act II] HAS HIS FAULT. £5 
 
 Har, Get a couple of porters, and bring them all. 
 [He sits do'ivn ; they bring him paper s^and he reads 
 — Irwin .^i»r/j, sits donvut leans his head on 
 one of the table s^, and sho^MS various signs qfun" 
 easiness ; then comes for 'vcard, 
 Irxv. Am I a man, a soldier I — And a coward ? 
 Yes, I run away, I turn my back on life— I forsake 
 the poc,t, which my commander, Providence, has al- 
 lowed me, and fly before a banditti of rude misfor- 
 tune.i. Rally me love, connubial and parental love, 
 rally m.e back to the charge ! No, those very affec- 
 tions oound the retreat. 
 
 [Sits do-'iun (luitb the same emotions of distraction 
 a) before. 
 Har. That gentleman does not seem happy. I wish 
 I had an opportunity of speaking to him. [Aside. 
 Irzu. [Coming forrjsardy and speaking again] But 
 Oh, my wife ! what will be your sufferings, when I 
 am brought home to your wretched abode ! — And 
 by my own hand ! 
 Har. I am afraid, sir, I engross all the news here. 
 [Holding up the papers, 
 Irav. [Still apart] Poor soul, how her heart will be 
 torn ! 
 
 Har. [After looking steadfastly on him] Captain Ir- 
 win, till this moment I had not the pleasure of recol- 
 lecting you ! — It is Mr. Irwin, is it not ? 
 
 Irw. [Mis mind deranged by his misfortunes] YeS, 
 sir : but what have you to say to him, more than to 
 a stranger ? 
 
 Har. Nothing more, sir, than to apologize to you, 
 for having addressed you jusi now in so familiar a 
 manner, before I knew who you were ; and to as- 
 sure you, that although I have no other knowledge of 
 you than from report, and having been once, I be- 
 lieve, in your company at this very house, before 
 you left England ; yet, any services of mine, as far as 
 my abilities can reach, you may freely command. 
 
 Irnv. Pray, sir, do you live at the west end of the 
 town ? 
 
 C 
 
26 EVERY ONE {hichbald, 
 
 Har. I do. 
 
 Ir<w. Then, sir, your services can be of no use to 
 me. 
 
 Har. Here is the place where I live, here is my 
 card. [Gives it to him, 
 
 Ir-w. And here is mine. And now I presume we 
 have exchanged every act of friendship, which the 
 strict forms of etiquette, in this town, will admit of. 
 
 Har. By no means, sir. I assure you my profes- 
 sions never go beyond my intentions ; and if there is 
 any thing that I can serve you in 
 
 Irw. Have you no sisters to portion off ? no lady's 
 fortune to return ? Or, perhaps, you will speak to 
 my wife's father, and entreat him to forgive his 
 child. 
 
 Har. On that subject, you may command me ; for 
 I have the honour to be intimately acquainted with 
 Lord Norland. 
 
 Iriv. But is there no reason you may recollect, 
 " why you would be the most unfit person in the 
 world to apply to him ?" 
 
 Har. None. I have been honoured with marks of 
 his friendship for many years past : and I do not 
 know any one who could, with less hazard of his re- 
 sentment, venture to name his daughter to him. 
 
 Iriu. Well, sir, if you should see him two or three 
 days hence — when I am set out on a journey I am 
 going — if you will then say a kind word to him for 
 my wife and children, I'll thank you. 
 
 Har. I will go to him instantly. [Going. 
 
 Irzv. No, do not see him yet ; stay till I am gone. 
 He will do nothing till I am gone. 
 
 Har. May I ask where you are going ? 
 
 Irav. No very tedious journey ; but it is a country, 
 to those who go without a proper passport, always 
 fatal. 
 
 Har. I'll see Lord Norland to-night ; perhaps I 
 may persuade him to prevent your journey. I'll see 
 him to-night, or early in the morning , depend upon 
 
Mi II] HAS HIS FAULT. 27 
 
 it. — T am a man of my word, sir, though I must own 
 I do live at the west end of the town. [Exit, 
 
 Ir-iv. 'Sdeath ! am I become the ridicule of my 
 fellow-creatures ! or am I not in my senses ? — I know 
 this is London — this house a tavern — I know I 
 have a wife — Oh ! 'twere better to be mad than to 
 remember her ! — She has a father — he is rich and 
 proud-^that I will not forget. But I will pass his 
 house, and send a maledictio-j as T pass it. [Furioui/y] 
 No; breathe out m.y last sigh at his inhospitable door, 
 and that sigh shall breathe — forgiveness. [Exit* 
 
 SCENE li. 
 
 T,bc Lodgings of Mr, Irwin. 
 
 Enter Mrs. ]?LACW,foIIoxved by Lady Eleanor 
 
 Irwin. 
 
 Lady E. I am ashamed of the trouble I have given 
 you, Mrs. Placid. It has been sufficient to have sent 
 me home in your carriage ; to attend me yourself 
 was ceremonious. 
 
 Mrs P. My dear Lady Eleanor, I was resolved to 
 come home with you, as soon as Mr. Placid desired I 
 would not. 
 
 Lady E. Wa.-- that the cause of your politeness i I 
 am sorry it should. 
 
 Mrs P. Why sorry ? It is not proper he should 
 have his way in every thing. 
 
 Lady E. But I am afraid you seldom let him have 
 it at ail. 
 
 Mrs, P. Yes, I do. — But where, my dear, is Mr« 
 Irwin ? 
 
 Lady E. [IFeepifig] I cannot hear the name of Mr. 
 Irwin, without hedding ears : hi- health has &o de* 
 clined of late, and his spirits been so bad —sometimes 
 I even fear for a failure in his mind. [Pfeeps again, 
 
 Mrs P. Is not he at home ? 
 
 Lady E. I hope he is. [Goej to the side of the scenes^ 
 Tell your master, Mrs. Placid is here. 
 
^8 EVERY ONE [Inchbaid. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv. My master is not come in yet, madam. 
 
 Lady E. Not yet ? I am very sorry for it ; — very 
 sorry indeed. 
 
 Mrs P. Bless me, my dear, don't look thu''. pale. 
 Come, sit down, and I'll stay with you till he returns. 
 
 [S'Us do-ivn hen elf. 
 
 Lady E. My dear, you forget, that Mr Placid is in 
 the carnage at the door all this time. 
 
 Mrs P No, I don't. — Come, let us sit, and have 
 half an hour'o conversation. 
 
 Lady E. Nay, I insist upon your going to him, or 
 desiring him to walk in. 
 
 Mrs p. Now I think of it, they may as well drive 
 him home, and come back for me. 
 
 Enter Mr. Placid. 
 
 Why, surely, Mr Placid, you were very impatient! 
 — I think you might have waited a few minutes 
 longer. 
 
 Plac I would have waited, ray dear, but the even*, 
 ing is so damp. 
 
 Lady E. Ah ! 'tis this evening —that makes me 
 alarmed for Mr Irwin. 
 
 Plac Lady Eleanor, you are one of the most ten- 
 der, anxious, and affectionate wives, I ever knev^r. 
 
 Mrs p. There ! Now he wishes he was your hus- 
 band — he admires the conduct of every wife but his 
 own, and envies every married man of his acquaint- 
 ance But i^ is very ungenerous in you. 
 
 Plac. So it is, my dear, and not at all consistent 
 with the law of equity ; for I am sure, there is not 
 one of my acquaintance who envies me. 
 
 Mrs P Mr Placid, your behaviour throughout 
 thi, whole day, has been so totally different fi im^ what 
 it ever was before, that I am half resolved to live no 
 longer with you. 
 
Act //.] HAS HIS FAULT. 29 
 
 Plac. [A/ide] It will do—It will do.' 
 Lady E. Oh, my dear friends, do not talk of part- 
 ing : — how can you, while every blessing smiles on 
 your union ? Even I, who have reason to regret mine, 
 yet, while that load of grief, a -eparation from Mr 
 Jrwin, is but averted, I will think every other afflic- 
 tion supportable. [^A loud rapping at the door] That 
 is he ! 
 
 Mrs P. Why, you seem in raptures at his return,. 
 Lady E. I know no greater rapture. 
 Efiter Ikwih, pa/ey tremblingi and disordered. 
 My dear, you are not well, I see. 
 
 Irw. [Ajide to herin anger] Why do you speak of it ? 
 Plac. How do you do, Irwin ? 
 Irxi>. I am glad to see you. [Bows. 
 
 Mrs P. But I am soiry to see you look so ill. 
 Irw. I have only been taking a glass too much. 
 
 [Lady Eleanor ttw//, 
 Plac. Pshaw ! Don't I know you never drink. 
 Irw. You are mistaken— I do, when my wife is not 
 by. I am afraid of her. 
 Plac. Impossible. 
 
 Irw. What ! to be afraid of one's wife? 
 Plac. No, I think that very possible. 
 Mrs P. But it does not look well when it is so ; it 
 jnakes a man appear contemptible, and a woman a 
 termagant. Come, Mr Placid, I cannot -tay another 
 moment. Good night. Heaven bless you ! [To La- 
 dy Eleanor] — Good night, my dear Mr Irwin ; — 
 and now, pray take my advice, and keep up your 
 spirits. 
 
 Irw. I will, madam. — [Shaking hands with Placid] 
 And do ycu keep up your spirits. [Exeunt Mr. and 
 Mrs Placid — Irwin shuts the door -with care after 
 theniy and looks round the room, as if he feared to be 
 seen or o'verheard] I am glad they are gone. — I spoke 
 unkindly to you just now, did I not ? My temper is 
 i^ltcred lately ; and yet I love you. 
 
 Lady E. I never doubted it, nor ever will, 
 /rtt). If you did, you would wrong me ; for there is 
 C2 
 
30 EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 no danger I would not risk for your sake : there is 
 not an infamy I would not be branded with, to make 
 you happy, nor a punishment I would noL undergo, 
 with joy, for your welfare — But there's a bar to this; 
 we are unfortunately so entwined together, so linked, 
 so rivetted, so cruelly, painfully fettered, to each 
 other, you could not be happy unlesr I ihared the 
 self same happiness with you — But you will learn 
 better — now you are in London, and amongst fash- 
 ionable wive? ; you must learn better. 
 
 [JValks abotit, and smiles, ivith a ghastly counte" 
 nance. 
 
 Lady E Do not talk, do not look thus wildly — In* 
 deed, indeed, you make me very uneasy. 
 
 Irw, What! unea y wheR I come to bring you 
 comfort ; and such comfort a-] you have not cxperi,- 
 enced for many a day ? [He pulls out a pocket-book] 
 Here is a friend in our nece&sity,~a fr'end that brings 
 a thousand friends ; plenty and — no, not always— 
 peace. 
 
 [He takes se'veral papers from the book, and puts 
 them into her hands — She looks at them, then 
 screams. 
 
 Lady E. Ah ! 'tis money ! [Trembling] These are 
 bank notes ! 
 
 Irw, Hu^h ! for Heaven's sake, hush I We shall be 
 discovered. [Trembling and in great perturbation\ 
 What alarms you thus ? 
 
 Lady E^ What alarm:, you ? 
 
 /rt£). Do you say, I am frightened ? 
 
 Lady E. A sight so nev7, has frightened me. 
 
 Irw. Nay, they are your own : by Heaven, they 
 are ! No one on earth has a better, or a fairer right 
 to them than yourself. It was a laudable act, by 
 which I obtained them. — The parent bird had for- 
 sook its young, and I but forced it back, to perform 
 the rites of nature. 
 
 Lady E, You are insane, I fear. No, no, I do not 
 fear — I hope you are. 
 
Act II. HAS HIS FAULT. sl 
 
 [yl loud rapping at the street door — He starts , 
 takes the note i from her, and puts them has" 
 tily into his pocket, 
 
 Irw. Go to the door yourself; and if 'tis any one 
 who asks for me, say, I am not come home yet. 
 
 [She goes out, then returns. 
 
 Lady E. It is the person belonging to the house ; 
 no one to us. 
 
 IrtiJ. My dear Eleanor, are you willing to quit Lon- 
 don with me in about two hours time ? 
 
 Lady E Instantly. 
 
 Irw Nay, not only London, but England. 
 
 Lady E. This world, if you desire it. To go in 
 company with you, will make the journey pleasant ; 
 and all I loved on earth would still be with me. 
 
 /rt£j. You can, then, leave your father without re- 
 gret, never, never, to see him more ? 
 
 Lady E, Why should I ihink on him, who will not 
 think on me ? [yVeeps. 
 
 /rve. But our children 
 
 Lady E. We are not to leave them ? 
 
 Irw. One of them we must ; but do not let that 
 give you uneasiness. You know he has never lived 
 with u.^ since hi- infancy, and cannot pine for the loss 
 of parent^;, whom he has nevei known. 
 
 Lady E. But I have known him. He was my first ; 
 and, sometimes, I think, more closely wound around 
 my heart, than all the rest. The grief I felt on being 
 forced to leave him, when we went abroad, and the 
 constant anxiety I have since experienced, lest he 
 should not be kindly treated, have augmented, I 
 think, my tenderness. 
 
 Ir V. All 'ny endeavours to-day, a; well as every 
 other day, have been in vain, to tindinto what part of 
 the country his nurse has taken him. — Nay, be not 
 thus overcome with tears ; we will (in spite of all my 
 haste to be gone) stay one more miserable day here, 
 in hopes to procure intelligence, so a- to take him 
 with us ; and then — smile with contempt on all we 
 leave behind. [Exewrt, 
 
S^ I^VERY ONE [Inchhald. 
 
 ACT THE THIRD. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 A Library at Lord Norland's. 
 Enter Lord Norland, followed by Mr Har* 
 
 MONY. 
 
 Lord N. [In Anger'] I tell you, Mr. Harmony, that 
 if an indifferent person, one on whom I had never be- 
 stowed a favour in my life, were to offend me, it is in 
 my nature never to forgive. Can I then forgive my 
 own daughter, my only child, on whom I heaped 
 continual marks of the most affectionate fondness f 
 Shall she dare to offend me in the tenderest point, 
 and you dare to suppose I will pardon her ? 
 Har. Your child, consider. 
 
 Lord N. The weakest argument you can use. As 
 my child, was she not most bound to obey me ? As 
 my child, ought she not to have sacrificed her own 
 happiness to mine ? Instead of which, mine has been 
 yielded up for a whim, a fancy, a fancy to marry a 
 beggar ; and, as such is her choice, let her beg with 
 him. 
 
 Har. She does, by me ; — pleads hard for your for- 
 giveness. 
 
 Lord N. If I thought she dared to send a message 
 to me, though dictated on her knees, she shpuld find, 
 that she had not yet felt the full force of my resent- 
 ment. 
 
 Har. What could you do more ? 
 Lord N. I have done nothing yet. At present I 
 h^ve only abandoned her ; — but I can persecute. 
 Har. I have no doubt of it : and, that I may not 
 
Act III.] HAS HIS FAULT. 83 
 
 be the means of aggravating your displeasure, I as- 
 sure you, that what I have now isaid has been entirely 
 from myself, without any desire ofher=; and, at the 
 same time, I give you my promise, I will never pre- 
 sume to introduce the subject again. 
 
 Lord N. On this condition (but on no other) I for- 
 give you now. 
 
 Har. And now, then, my lord, let us pass from 
 those who have forfeited your love, to tho.-^e who pos- 
 ses-: it. — I heard, sometime ago, but I never felt my- 
 self disposed to mention it to you, that you had adopt- 
 ed a young man as your son. 
 
 Lord iV. *' A young man !" Pshaw ! No ; a boy — 
 a mere child, who fell in my way by accidetit. 
 
 Har. A chance child ! — Ho ! ho ! I understand 
 you. 
 
 LordN. Do not jest with me, sir. Do I look 
 
 Har. Yes, you look as if you would be ashamed to 
 own it, if you had one. 
 
 Lord N. But this boy I am not ashamed of : he is 
 a favourite — rather a favourite. I did not like him 
 so well at first ; — but custom, — and having a poor 
 creature entirely at one's mercy, one begins to love it 
 
 merely from the idea of What would be its fate 
 
 if one did not? 
 
 Har. Is he an orphan, then ? 
 
 Lord N. No. 
 
 Har. You have a friendship for his parents ? 
 
 Lord N. I tell you, no. [Fiolently] — But ask no 
 more questions. Who his parents are, is a secret, 
 which neither he, nor any one (that is now living) 
 know.-:, except myself ; nor ever shall. 
 
 Har-. Well, my lord, since 'ti : your pleasure to 
 consider him as your child, I sincerely wish you may 
 experince more duty from him, than you have done 
 from your daughter. 
 
 Lord N. Thank Heaven, his disposition is not in 
 the lea^t like hers — No : [Fery much impassioned] I 
 have the joy to say, that never child was so unlike its 
 mother. 
 
34 EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 Har. [Starting] How ! his mother ! 
 
 Lord N. Confusion ! — what have I said I — I am 
 ashamed 
 
 Har. No, — be proud. 
 
 Lord N. Of what ? 
 
 Har. That you have a lawful heir to all your rich- 
 es ; proud, that you have a grandson. 
 
 Lord N. I would have concealed it from all the 
 world ; I v^'ished it even unknown to myself. And, 
 let me tell you, sir, (as not by my design, but through 
 my inadvertency, you are become acquainted with 
 this secret) that, if ever you breathe it to a single 
 creature, the boy shall answer for it ; for, were he 
 known to be hers, though he were dearer to me than 
 ever she was, I would turn him from my house, and 
 cast him from my heart, as I have done her. 
 
 Har, I believe you ; — and, in compassion to the 
 child, give you my solemn promise, never to reveal 
 who he is. I have heard that those unfortunate pa- 
 rents left an infant behind when they went abroad, 
 and that they now lament him as lost. Will you sa- 
 tisfy my curiosity, in what manner you sought and 
 found him out ? 
 
 LordN- Do you suppose I searched for him ? 
 No ; — he was forced upon me A woman followed 
 me, about eight years ago, in the fields adjoining to 
 my country seat, with a half- starved boy in her hand, 
 and asked my charity for my grandchild : the im- 
 pression of the word made rrje turn round involun- 
 tarily ; and, casting my eyes upon him, I was rejoi- 
 ced not to find a feature of his mother's in all his 
 face ; and I began to feel something like pity for him. 
 In short, he caught such fast hold by one of my fing- 
 ers, that I asked him carelessly, " if he would go 
 home and live with me ?" On which, he answered 
 me so willingly, " Yes," I took him at his word. 
 
 Har. And did never your regard for him, plead in 
 his mother's behalf ? 
 
 Lord N. Never : — for, by Heaven, I would as soon 
 forgive the robber, who met me last night at my 
 
Act in] HAS HIS FAULT. 35 
 
 own door, and, holding a pistol to my breast, took 
 from mc a sum to a considerable amount, as I would 
 pardon her. 
 
 Har. Did such an accident happen to you I 
 
 Lord N. Have you not heard of it ? 
 
 Har. No. 
 
 Lord N. It is amazing we cannot put a stop to such 
 depredations. 
 
 Har. Provisions are so scarce ! 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv. Miss Wooburn, my lord, if you are not en- 
 gaged, will come and sit an hour v/ith you. 
 
 Lord N. 1 have no company but such as she is per- 
 fectly acquainted with, and I shall be glad of her 
 visit. (Exit Servant. 
 
 Har. You forget I am a stranger, and my presence 
 may not be welcome 
 
 Lord N. A stranger ! What, to ray ward .'' to Lady 
 Ramble ? for that is the name which custom would 
 authorize her to keep ; but such courtesy she dis- 
 dains, in contempt of the unworthy giver of the 
 title. 
 
 Har. I am intimate with Sir Robert, my lord : 
 and, though I acknowledge that both you and his 
 late wife have cause for complaint, — yet Sir Robert 
 has still many virtuts. 
 
 Lord N. Not one. He is the most vile, the most 
 detestable of characters. He not only contradicted 
 my will in the whole of his conduct, but he seldom 
 met me that he did not give me some personal affront. 
 
 Har. It is, however, generally held better to be un- 
 civil in a person's presence, than in his ab-cnce. 
 
 Lord N'. He was uncivil to me in every respect. 
 
 Har. That I will deny ; for I have heard Sir Rob- 
 ert, in your absence, say such things in your favour 1 
 
 Lord N. Indeed ! 
 
 Har. Most assuredly. 
 
 Lord N. I wish he had sometimes done me the ho- 
 nour to have spoken politely to my face. 
 
36 EVERY ONE {Inchbald. 
 
 Har. That is not Sir Robert's way ;— he is no flat- 
 terer. But then no :30oner has your back been turn- 
 ed, than I have heard him lavish in your praise. 
 
 Lord N 1 must own, Mr. Harmony, that I never 
 looked upon Sir Robert as incorrigible- I could al- 
 ways dibcern a ray of understanding, and a beam of 
 virtue, through all his foibles ; nor would I have ur- 
 ged the divorce, but that I found his wife's sensibili- 
 ty could not bear his neglect ; and, even now, not- 
 withstandi ig her endeavour to conceal it, ?he pines 
 in secret, and laments her hard fortune. All my 
 hopes of restoring her health rest on one prospect — 
 that of finding a man worthy my recommendation 
 for her second husband, and, by thus creating a sec- 
 ond passion, expel the first — Mr Harmony, you and 
 I have been long acquainted — I have known your dis- 
 position from your infancy — Now, if such a man as 
 you were to offer 
 
 Har. You flatter me. 
 
 Lord iV I do not — would you venture to become 
 lier husband I 
 
 Har, I cannot say, I have any particular desire ; — 
 but if it will oblige either you or her, — for my part, 
 I think the short time we live in this world, we should 
 do all we can to oblige each other. 
 
 Lord N I should rejoice at such an union myself, 
 and, I think, I can answer for her. — You permit me 
 then, to make overtures to her in your name ? 
 
 Har. {Considering ) This is rather a serious business 
 — However, I never did make a difficulty, when I 
 wished to oblige a friend. — But there is one proviso, 
 my lord ; I must first mention it to Sir Robert. 
 
 Zor^ JV. Why so ? 
 
 Har. Because he and I have always been very inti- 
 mate friends : and to marry his wife without even 
 telling him of it, will appear very uncivil ! 
 
 Lord N. Do you mean, then, to ask his consent f 
 
 Har. Not absolutely his consent ; but I will insin- 
 uate the subject to him, and obtain his approbation 
 in a manner suitable to my own satisfaction* 
 
Act III,] HAS HIS FAULT. 37 
 
 Lord N. You will oblige me, then, if you will see 
 hirn as earlv as possible ; for it is reported he is go- 
 ing abroad. 
 
 Har. I will go to him immediately ; — and, my 
 lord, I will do all in my power to oblige you, Sir Ro- 
 bert, and the lady — [Jside] but as to obliging myself, 
 that was never one of my considerations. [Exit» 
 
 E?iter Miss Wooburn. 
 
 Lord N. I am sorry to see you thus ; you have 
 been weeping ! Will you still lament your separation 
 from a cruel husband, as if you had followed a kind 
 one to the grave ? 
 
 Miss W. By no means, my lord. Tears from our 
 sex are not always the result of grief; they are fre- 
 quently no more than little sympathetic tributes, 
 which we pay to our fellow beings, while the mind 
 and the heart are steeled against the weakness, which 
 our eyes indicate. 
 
 Lord N. Can you say, your mind and heart are s.o 
 steeled ? 
 
 Miss W, I can : my mind is as firmly fixed against 
 Sir Robert Jlamble, as, at our first acquaintance, it 
 was fixed upon him. And I solemnly protest 
 
 Lord N. To a man of my age and observation, 
 protestations are v.- in. — Give me a proof, that you 
 have rooted him from your heart. 
 
 Miss IF. Any proof you require, I will give you 
 without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 Lord N. I take you at your word ; and desire you 
 to accept a gentleman, vi'hom I shall recommend for 
 your second husband. [Miss Wooburn starts] — 
 You said, you would not hesitate a moment. 
 
 Miss /f I thought I should not ; — but this is 
 something so unexpected 
 
 Lord A^ You break your word, then ; and still 
 give cause for this ungrateful man to ridicule your 
 ondness for him. 
 
38 EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 Miss W. No, I will put an end to that humilia- 
 tion ; and whoever the gentleman is whom you mean 
 to propose — Yet, do not name him at present— but 
 give me the satisfaction of keeping the promise I 
 have made to you (at least for a little time) without 
 exactly knowing how far it extendi ; for, in return 
 I have' a promise to ask from you, before I acquaint 
 you with the nature of your engagement. 
 
 Lord N, I give my promise. Now name your re- 
 quest. 
 
 Miss JV. ThQ.nimf\cfr^--[Hesitating, and confused] 
 — the law gave me back, upon my divorce from 
 Sir Robert, the very large fortune which I brought 
 to him.— I am afraid, that, in his present circum- 
 stances, to enforce the strict payment of this debt 
 wouid very much embarrass him. 
 
 LordN. What if it did? 
 
 Miss W. It is my entreaty to you (in whose hands 
 is invested the power to demand this riglit of law ) to 
 lay my claim aside for the present. [Lord Norland 
 offers to speak] I know, my lord, what you are go- 
 ing to say ; I know Sir Robert is not now, but I can 
 never forget that he has been, my husband. 
 
 LordN. To show my gratitude for y^ur compli- 
 ance with the request I have just made you, [Goes to 
 a table in the library] here is the bond by which I am 
 empowered to seize on the greatest part of his estates 
 in right of you : take the bond into your own posses- 
 sion, till your next husband demands it of you ; and, 
 by the time you have called him husband for a few 
 weeks, this tenderness, or delicacy, to Sir Robert, 
 will be worn away. 
 
 Enter Harmony, hastily, 
 
 Har, My lord, I beg pardon ; but I forgot to men- 
 tion 
 
 Miss JV. Oh, Mr. Harmony, I have not seen you 
 before, I know not when : I am particularly happy 
 
Act III] HAS HIS FAULT. 39 
 
 at your calling just now, for I have — [Hesitating] — a 
 little favour to ask of you. 
 
 Har. If it were a great favour, madam, you might 
 command me. 
 
 Misj JV. But — my lord, I beg your pardon— the 
 favour I have to ask of Mr. Harmony must be told 
 to him in private. 
 
 Lord N. Oh ! I am sure I have not the least ob- 
 jection to you and Mr. Harmony having a private 
 conference. I'll leave you together. [Harmony «^- 
 pears embarrassed] You do not derange my business 
 — ril be back in a short time. [Exit» 
 
 Miss W. Mr. Harmony, you are the very man on 
 earth whom I most wanted to see. [Harmon v Z'oti;j] 
 I know the kindness of your heart, the liberality of 
 your sentiments, and I wish to repose a charge to 
 your trust, very near to me indeed — but you must be 
 secret. 
 
 Har, When a lady reposes a trust in me, I shouldn't 
 be a man if I were not. 
 
 Miss W. I must first inform you, that Lord Nor- 
 land has just drawn from me a promise, that I will 
 once more enter into the marriage state *. and with- 
 out kRowing to whom he intends to give me, I will 
 keep my promi'se. But it is in vain to say, that though 
 I mean all duty and fidelity to my second husband, 
 I shall not experience moments when my thoughts — 
 Will wander on my first. 
 
 Har. [Starting] Hem ! — hem ! — [Jo i6fr]— In- 
 deed ! 
 
 Miss tV. I must always rejoice in Sir Robert's suc- 
 cess, and lament over his misfortunes. 
 
 Har. If that is all— 
 
 Miss IV, No, I would go one step further : [Har- 
 mon v itarts again] I would secure him from tho^^e 
 dibtressc:.;, which to hear of, will disturb my peace of 
 mind. I know his fortune has suffered very much, 
 and I cannot, will not, place it in the power of the 
 man, whom my Lord Norland may point out for my 
 next mariiage, to harass him farther — This is the 
 
40 EVERY ONE {Inchbald. 
 
 writing, by which that gentleman may claim the 
 part of my fortune from Sir Robert Ramble, which 
 is in landed property ; carry it, my dear Mr. Har- 
 mony, to Sir Robert instantly ; and tell him— that, 
 in separating from him, I meant only to give him 
 liberty, not make him the debtor, perhaps the prison- 
 er, of my future husband. 
 
 Ear. Madam, I will most undoubtedly take this 
 bond to my friend ; but will you give me leave to 
 suggest to you, — that the person on whom you be- 
 stow your hand may be a little surprised to find, that 
 while he is in possession of you, Sir Robert is in the 
 possession of your fortune. 
 
 Miss JV. Do not imagine, sir, that I shall marry 
 any man, without first declaring what I have done — 
 I only wish at present it should be concealed from 
 Lord Norland— When this paper is given, as I have 
 required, it cannot be recalled : and when that is 
 past, I shall divulge my conduct to whom I please : 
 and first of all, to him, who shall offer me hi« ad- 
 dresses. 
 
 Har And if he is a man of my feelings, hi^ ad- 
 dresses will be doubly importunate for this proof of 
 liberality to your former husband. — But are you sure, 
 that, in the return of this bond, there is no secret af" 
 fection, no latent spark of love ? 
 
 Miss JV. None. I know my heart ; and if there 
 was, I could not ask you, Mr. Harmony (nor any one 
 like you), to be the messenger of an imprudent pas- 
 sion. Sir Robert's vanity, I know, may cause him 
 to judge otherwise ; but undeceive him ; let him 
 know, this is a sacrifice to the golden principles of 
 duty, and not an offering to the tinselled shrine of 
 love. 
 
 Enter Lord Norland. 
 
 Miss W. Put up the bond. 
 
 [Harmony conceals it. 
 Lord N. Well, my dear, have you made your re- 
 quest ? 
 
Act m.] HAS HIS FAULT. 41 
 
 Miss W. Yes, my lord. 
 Lord N. And has he granted it ? 
 Har. Yes, my lord. I am going to grant it 
 Loi'd N. I sincerely wish you boihjoy of this good 
 understanding between you. But, Mr. Harmony, 
 {In a qjubiiperl are not you going to Sir Robert ? 
 Har, Yes, my lord, I am going thi. moment. 
 
 Lord N. Make haste, then, and do not forget your 
 eiTand. 
 
 Har, No, my lord, I shaVt forget my errand : it 
 won't slip my memory — Good morning, my iorH : — 
 good morning, madam. [Sxitr 
 
 Lord N. Now, my dear, as you and Mr. Haimony 
 seem to be on such excellVnt terms, I think I may 
 venture to tell you (if he has not yet told you him- 
 self), that he ii the man, who is to be your husband. 
 
 Mis J IV. He ! Mr. Harmony ! — No, my lord, 
 he has not toid me ; and I am confident he never 
 will. 
 
 Lord N. What makes you think =o ? 
 
 Miss W, Becau'^e — because — he must be sensible 
 he would not be the man I should choose. 
 
 Lord N And where is the woman who marries 
 the man she would choose i* you are revering the or- 
 der of society ; men only have the right of choice in 
 marriage. Were women permitted their.-, we should 
 have handsome beggars allied to our noblest familie.=, 
 and no such object in our whole i,>land as an old 
 maid. 
 
 Miss W. But being denied that choice, why am I 
 forbid to remain as I am .'' 
 
 LordN. What are you now ? Neither a widow, 
 a maid, nor a wife. If I could fix a teru^ to your 
 present state, I should not be thus anxious to place 
 you in another. 
 
 Miss W. I am perfectly acquainted with your 
 friendly motives, and feel the full force of your ad- 
 vice. — I therefore renew my promise — and although 
 Mr. Harmony (in respect to the marriage state) is as 
 D 2 
 
i|2 EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 little to my wishes as any man on earth, I will never- 
 theless endeavour — whatever struggles it may cost 
 me — to be to him, if he prefers his suit, a dutiful, an 
 obedient — but, for a loving wife, that I can never be 
 again. [Exeunt se'verally, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 An Apartment at Sir Robert Ramble's. 
 
 Enter Sir Robert, ««<:/ Mr. Harmony. 
 
 Sir R. I thank you for this visit. I was undeter- 
 mined what to do with myself. Your company has 
 determined me to stay at home 
 
 Har- I was with a gentleman just now. Sir Robert, 
 and you were the subject of our conversation. 
 
 Sir R. Had it been a lady, I should be anxious to 
 know what she said. 
 
 Har. I have been with a lady, likewise : and she 
 made you the subject of her discourse. 
 
 Sir R. But was she handsome ? 
 
 Har. Very handsome. 
 
 Sir R. My dear fellow, what is her name ? What 
 did she say, and where may I meet with her i 
 
 Har, Hername is Wooburn. 
 
 Sir R. That is the name of my late wife. 
 
 Har. It is her I mean. 
 
 Sir R. Zounds, you had just put my spirits into a 
 flame, and now you throw cold water all over me. ' 
 
 Har. I am sorry to hear you say so, for 1 came 
 from her this moment ; — and what do you think is 
 the present she has given me to deliver to you ? 
 
 Sir R. Pshaw 1 I want no presents. Some of my 
 old love-letters returned, I suppose, to remind me of 
 my inconstancy. 
 
 Har. Do not undervalue her generosity ; this is 
 her present : — this bond, which has power to take 
 from you three thousand a year, her right. 
 
ct III.] HAS HIS FAULT. 4B 
 
 Sir R. Ah ! this is a present, indeed ! Are you 
 certain you ^peak tUth ? Let me look at it : — Sure 
 my eyes deceive me ! — No, by Heaven it is true! 
 [Reai/s] The very thing I wanted, and will make me 
 perfectly happy. Now I'll be generous again ; my 
 bills shall be paid, my gaming debts cancelled, poor 
 Irwin shall find a friend ; and I'll send Miss Woo- 
 burn as pretty a copy of verses as ever I wrote in my 
 life. 
 
 Har. Take care how you treat with levity a w oman 
 of her elevated mind. She charged me to a sure you, 
 ** that love had no share whatever in this act, which 
 is mere compassion to the embarrassed state of your 
 affairs '* 
 
 Sir R. Sir, I would have you to know, I am no ob- 
 ject of compassion. However, a lady's favour one 
 cannot return ; and so I'll ktep thio thing. 
 
 Puts t/je bond in his pocket. 
 
 Har. Nay, if your circumstances are different from 
 what she imagines, give it me back, and I will restore 
 it to her. 
 
 Sir R. No, poor thing, it would break her heart 
 to send it back — No, I'll keep it— She would never 
 forgive me, were I to send it back. I'll keep it. And 
 she is welcome to ^tribute her concern for me to 
 what she pleases. But surely you can see — you can 
 understand — But Heaven bit ss her for her love ! and 
 I would love her in return — if I could. 
 
 Har. You would not talk thus, if you had seen the 
 firm dignity with which she gave me that paper — 
 " Assure him," said she, " no remaining affection 
 comes along with it, but merely a duty which I owe 
 him, to protect him from the humiliation of being a 
 debtor to the man, whom I am going to marry." 
 
 Sir R. [IVith the utmost emotion^ Why, she is not 
 going to be married again ! 
 
 Har. I believe so. 
 
 Sir R. But are you sure of it, sir ? Are you sure 
 of it? 
 
 Ha . Both she and her guardian told me so. 
 
44 EVERY ONE {Inchbald, 
 
 Sir R. That guardian, my loi^ Norland, is one of 
 the basest, vilest of men. — I. teiFyou what, sir, I'll 
 resent this usage. 
 
 Har. Wherefore ? — As to his being the means of 
 bringing about your separation, in that he obliged 
 you. 
 
 Sir R. Yes, sir, he did, he certainly did ;'-but 
 though I am not in the least oifended with him on 
 that account (for at that I rejoice), yet I will resent 
 his disposing of her a second time. 
 
 Har. And wherefore ? 
 
 Sir R. Because, little regard as I have for her my- 
 self, yet no oth^r man Lhall dare to treat her so ill as 
 I have done. 
 
 Har. Do not fear it — Her next husband will be a 
 man, who, I can safely say, will never insult, or even 
 offend her ; but sooth, indulge, and make her happy* 
 
 Sir R. And do yoii dare to tell me, that her next 
 husband shall make her happy ? Now that is worse 
 than the other— No, sir, no man shall ever have it to 
 say, he has made her either happy or miserable, but 
 myself. 
 
 Har. I know of but one way to prevent it. 
 
 Sir R. And what is that ? 
 
 Har. Pay your addresses to \ttr, and marry her 
 again yourself. 
 
 Sir R. And I would, rather than she should be 
 happy with any body else. 
 
 Har. To show that I am wholly disinterested in 
 this affair, I will carry her a letter from you, if you 
 like, and say all I can in your behalf. 
 
 Sir R. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Now, my dear Harmony, you 
 carry your goodnatured simplicity too far. However, 
 I thank you— I sincerely thank you — But do you 
 imagine T should be such a blockhead, as to make 
 love to the same woman I made love<to seven years 
 ago, and who for the last six years I totally neglected? 
 
 Har. Yes ; for if you have neglected her six years, 
 she will now be a novelty. 
 . Sir R. Egad, and so she will. You are right. 
 
ActllL] HAS HIS FAULT. 45 
 
 Ha^. But being in posession of her fortune, you 
 can be very happy without her. 
 
 Sir R. 1 ake licr fortune back, sir. [Ta/iing the 
 bondf oni bis pocket, and cfftring it /o Harm ON y] I 
 ■would starve, I would perish, die in poverty, and in- 
 famy, rather than owe an obligation to a vile, per- 
 fidious, inconstant woman. 
 
 Har, Consider, Sir Robert, if you insist on my 
 taking this bond back, it may fall into the husband's 
 hands. 
 
 Sir R. Take it back — I insist upon it. {Gi'ves it 
 him, and Harmony /)«^i it up] But, Mr. Harmony, 
 depend on it. Lord Norland -hall hear from me, in 
 the most ocrious manner, for his interference — I re- 
 peat, he is the vilest, the most viilanous of men. 
 
 Har. How can you speak with such rancour of a 
 nobleman, who speaks of you in the highest terms I 
 
 Sir R Doe^ he 'faith ? 
 
 Har. He owns you have some faults. 
 
 Sir R. 1 know I have. 
 
 Har. But he thinks your good qualities are num- 
 berless. 
 
 Sir R. Now, dam'me if ever I thought so ill of him 
 as I have appeared to do ! — But who is the intended 
 hu-band, my dear friend ? Tell me, that I may laugb 
 at him, and make you laugh at him. 
 
 Har. No, I am not inclined to laugh at him. 
 
 Sir R. Is it old Soluo ? 
 
 Har. No 
 
 Sir R, But I will bet you a wager it is somebody 
 equally ridiculous. 
 
 Har. I never bet. 
 
 Sir R Solu is mad for a wife, and has been prais- 
 ing mine up to the heavens, — you need say no more 
 — I know It is he. 
 
 Har. Upon my honour, it is not. However, I can- 
 not di-.clo.-e ':o you at present the person's name ; I 
 must iirst obtain Lord Norland's per.nission. 
 
 iS/> R. 1 shall ask you no more. I'll write to her, 
 she will tell me ; — or I'li pay her a visit, and ask her 
 
4« EVERY ONE {hichbald, 
 
 boldly myself. Do you think [/^Tixiousiy] — do you 
 
 think she would see me ? 
 Har. You can but try. 
 
 Enter a Servant, 
 
 Ser'v. Mr. Solus. 
 
 Sir R, Now I will find out the secret immediately. 
 — I'll charge him with being the intended huisband. 
 Har. I won't stay to hear you. 
 
 Enter Solus. 
 
 Mr, Solus, how do you do ? I am extremely sorry 
 that my engagements take me away as soon as you 
 enter. 
 
 [Exit Harmony, runnings to ai'oid an explanation. 
 
 Sol. Sir Robert, what is the matter ? Has any 
 thing ruffled you ? Why, I never saw you look more 
 out of temper, even while you were married. 
 
 Sir R. Ah ! that I had never married ! never 
 known what marriage was ! for, even at this moment, 
 I feel it5 torments in my heart. 
 
 Sol. I have often heard of the torments of matri- 
 mony ; but I conceive, that at the worst, they are 
 nothing more than a kind of violent tickling, which 
 will force the tears into your eyes, though at the same 
 time you are bursting your sides with laughter. 
 
 Sir R. You have defined marriage too favourably ; 
 there is no laughter in the state ; all is melancholy, 
 all gloom. 
 
 Scl. Now I think marriage is an excellent remedy 
 for the spleen. I have known a gentleman at a feast 
 receive an affront, disguise his rage, step home, vent 
 it all upon his wife, return to his companions, and 
 be as good company as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Sir. R. But even the necessary expen:=es of a wife 
 should alarm you. 
 
 So/. I can then retrench some of my own. Oh ? 
 
 my dear sir, a married man has so many delightful 
 
 privileges to what a bachelor has ; — An old lady will 
 
 ntroduce her daughters to you in a dishabille-^" It 
 
Ad III] HAS HIS FAULT. 41 
 
 does not signify, my dears, it*s a married man" — One 
 lady will suffer you to draw on her glove — " Never 
 mind, it*s a married mati" — Another will permit you 
 to pull on her slipper ; a third will even take you in- 
 to her bedchamber — " Pshaw, it's nothing hut a. mai- 
 ried man." 
 
 Sir R. But the weight of your fetters will over- 
 balance all these joys. 
 
 Sol. And I cannot say, notwithstanding you are re- 
 lieved from those fetters, that I see much joy or con- 
 tent here. 
 
 Sir R. I am not very well at present ; I have the 
 head ache ; and, if ever a wife can be of comfort to 
 her huoband, it must be when he is indisposed A 
 wife, then, binds up your head, mixes your powders, 
 bathes your temples, and hovers about you, in a way 
 that is most endearing. 
 
 Sol. Don't speak of it; Hong to have one hover 
 about me. But I will — I am determined I will, be- 
 fore I am a week older. Don't speak, don't attempt 
 to persuade me not. Your description has renewed 
 my eagerness — I will be married. 
 
 Sir R. And without pretending not to know whom 
 you mean to make your choice, I tell you plainly, it 
 is Miss Wooburn, it is my late wife. — I know you 
 have made overtures to my Lord Norland, and that, 
 he has given his consent. 
 
 Sol. You tell me a great piece of news — I'll go a?k 
 my lord if it be true ; and if he says it is, I shall be 
 very glad to find it so. 
 
 Sir R. That is right, sir ; marry her, marry her ; — 
 I give you joy, — that's all. — Ha! ha! ha! I think I 
 should know her temper. — But if you will venture 
 to marry her, I sincerely wish you happy. 
 
 Sol. And if we aie not, you know we can be di- 
 vorced. 
 
 Sir R. Not always. Take my advice, and live as 
 you are. 
 
 SoL You almost stagger my resolution. — I had 
 painted such bright prospects in marriage : — Good 
 
<rs EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 day to you . [Goings returns] — You think I had bet- 
 ter not marry ? 
 
 Sir R. You are undone if you d^o, 
 
 Sol. ySighing] You ought to know from experi- 
 ence. 
 
 Sir R. From that I speak- 
 
 Sol. \ Going to the door, and returning once or ttuice, 
 as undctermified in his resoiution] But then, what a 
 poor, disconsolate object shall I live, without a wife 
 to hover about me ; to bind up my head, and bathe 
 my temples ! Oh ! I am impatient for all the char- 
 tered rights, privileges, and immunities of a married 
 man. {Exit. 
 
 Sir R. Furies ! racks ! torments ! — I cannot beai- 
 what I feel, and yet 1 am ashamed to own I feel any 
 thing ! 
 
 Enter Mr. Placid. 
 
 Plac. My dear Sir Robert, give me joy ! Mrs. Pla- 
 cid and I are come to the very point you advised : 
 matters are in the fairest way for a separation. 
 
 Sir R. I do give you joy, and most sincerely. — 
 You are right ; you will i^oon be as happy as I am. 
 [Sighing] But, would you suppose it i that deluded 
 woman, my wife, is going to be married again ! I 
 thought she had experienced enough from me. 
 
 PJac. You are hurt, I see, lest the world should 
 say, she has forgot you. 
 
 Sir R. She cannot forget me ; I defy her to forget 
 me. 
 
 Plac. Who is her intended husband ? 
 
 SirR. Solus, Solus. An old man — an ugly man. 
 lie left me this moment, and owned it — owned it ! 
 Go after him, will you, and persuade him not to 
 have her. 
 
 Plac. My advice will have no effect, for you know 
 he is determined upon matrimony. 
 
 Sir R. Then could not you, my dear sir (as you 
 are going to be separated), could not you recom- 
 
Act IF.] HAS His FAULT. i» 
 
 mend him to marry your wife ? — It will be all the 
 same to him, and I shall like him much better. 
 
 PI^c. Ours will not be a divorce, consider, but 
 merely a separate maintenance. But were it other- 
 wise, I wish no man so ill, as to wish him married to 
 Mrs. Placid. 
 
 Sir R. That is my case exactly — I wish no man so 
 ill, as to wish him married to my Lady Ramble ; and 
 poor old Solus in particular, poor old man ! a very 
 good sort of man — I have a great frrendship for So- 
 lus. — I can't stay a moment in the house — I must go 
 fomewhere — IMl go to Solus — No, Til go to Lord 
 Norland— No, Til go to Harmony ; and then I'll 
 call on you, and we'll take a bottle together ; and 
 when you are become free [Takes his band] we'll 
 both join, from that moment we'll join, to laugh at, 
 to contemn, to despise, all those who boast of the 
 joys of conjugal love. [Kxeunt, 
 
 ACT THE FOURTH. 
 
 SCENE 1. 
 
 Jtt Apartment at Mr. Harmony's 
 Enter yi?i Harmony. 
 
 liar. And now for one of the most painful tasks 
 that brotherly love ever draws upon mc ; to tell an- 
 other the suit, of which I gave him hope, has failed. — 
 Yet, if I can but overcome Captain Irwin's delicacy 
 >o far, as to prevail on him to accept one proof more 
 of my good wishes towards him ; — but to a man of 
 his nice sense of obligations, the offer must be made 
 with caution. 
 
 E 
 
50 EVERY ONE [Inchbald^. 
 
 Enter LoRt) Norland. 
 
 Lord N. Mr. Harmony, I beg your pardon : I come 
 in thus abruptly, from the anxiety I feel concerning 
 ■what passed between us this morning in respect to 
 Miss Wooburn. You have not changed your mind, 
 I hope ? 
 
 Har- Indeed, my lord, I am very sorry that it will 
 not be in my power to oblige you. 
 
 Lord N. [In anger'] How, sir i Did not you give 
 me your word ? 
 
 Har. Only conditionally, my lord. 
 
 Lord N. And what were the conditions ? 
 
 Har. Have you forgot them ? Her former hus- 
 band — 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv- Sir Robert Ramble is in his carriage at Ae 
 door, and, if you are at leisure, will come in. 
 
 Har. Desire him to walk up. I have your leave, I 
 suppose, my lord ? [Exit Servant. 
 
 Lord N. Yes ; but let me get out of the house 
 without meeting him. [Going to the opposite door] Can 
 I go this way ? 
 
 Har. Why should you shun him ? 
 
 Lord N. Because he used his wife ill, 
 
 Har. He did. But I believe he is very sorry for it. 
 — And as for you, — he said to me only a few hours 
 ago — but no matter. 
 
 Lord N What did he say ? I insist upon knowing. 
 
 Har. Why, then, he said, that if he had a sacred 
 trust to repose in any one, you should be the man 
 on earth, to whom he would confide it. 
 
 Lord N. Well, I am in no hurry ; I can stay a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Enter Sir Robert Ramble. 
 
 Sir R. Oh ! Harmony ! I am in such a distracted 
 state of roind-^ 
 
Mtir.] HAS HIS FAULT. 51 
 
 [Seeing Lord Norland, be starts, andbotus ivitb 
 the most humble respect. 
 
 Lord N. Sir Robert, how do you do ? 
 
 Sir R. My lord, I am pretty well. — I hope I have 
 the happiness of seeing yourlordship in perfect health. 
 
 Lord N. Very well, sir, I thank you. 
 
 Sir R. Indeed, my lord, I think I never saw you 
 look better. 
 
 Lord N. Mr. Harmony, you and Sir Robert may 
 have some business — I wish you a good morning. 
 
 Har, No, my lord, I fancy Sir Robert has nothing 
 particular. 
 
 Sir R. Nothing, nothing, I assure you, my lord. 
 
 Lord N. However, I have business myself in an- 
 other place, and so you will excuse me. [Going, 
 
 Sir R. [Follonving him] My lord — Lord Norland, 
 — T trust you will excuse my inquiries. — I hope, my 
 lord, all your family are well I 
 
 Lord N. All very well. 
 
 Sir R. Your little eleve,— Master Edward, — the 
 young gentleman you have adopted — I hope he is 
 well— [Hesitating and confused] And — your ward, — 
 Miss Wooburn — I hope, my lord, she is well ? 
 
 Lord N. Yes, sir Robert, Miss Wooburn is tolera- 
 bly well. 
 
 Sir R. Only tolerably, my lord I I am sorry for 
 that. 
 
 Har. I hope, my lord, you will excuse my men- 
 tioning the subject ; but I war, telling Sir Robert just 
 now of your intentions respecting a second marriage 
 for that lady ; but Sir Robert does not appear to 
 approve of the design. 
 
 Lord N. What objection can he have ? 
 
 Sir R. My lord, there are such a number of bad 
 husbands ;~there are such a number of dissipated, 
 unthinking, unprincipled men ! —And — I should be 
 extiemely sorry to see any lady with whom I have 
 had the honour of being so closely allied, united tQ 
 a man, who would undervalue her worth. 
 
52 EVERY ONE [Incbbald. 
 
 Lord N. Pray, Sir Robert, were you not then ex- 
 tremely sorry for her, while she was united to you ? 
 
 Sir R Very sorry for her, indeefd, my lord. But, 
 at that time, my mind was so much taken up with 
 other cares," I own I did not feel the compassion 
 which was her due ; but, now that 1 am single, I 
 shall have leisure to pay her more attention ; and 
 should I find her unhappy, it musi , inevitably, make 
 me so. 
 
 Lord N. Depend upon it, that, on the present oc- 
 casion, I shall take infinite care in the choice of her 
 husband. 
 
 Sir R. If your lordship would permit me to have 
 an interview with Miss Wooburn, I think I should be 
 able at least — 
 
 Lord iV. You would not sure insult her by your 
 presence f 
 
 Sir R. I think I should at least be able to point 
 out an object worthy of her taste — I know that which 
 she will like better than any one in the world. 
 
 Lord N. Her request has been, that I may point 
 her out a husband the reverse of you. 
 
 Sir R. Then, upon my honoui, my lord, she won't 
 like him. 
 
 Lord N. Have not you liked women the reverse of 
 her? 
 
 Sir R Yes, my lord, perhaps I have, and perhaps 
 I still do. I do not pretend to love her ; I did not 
 say, I did ; nay, I positively protest I do not ; but 
 this indifference J acknowledge as one of my faults ; 
 and, notwithstanding all my faults, give me leave to 
 acknowledge my gratitude that your lordship has ne- 
 vertheless been pleased to declare — you think my 
 virtues are numberless. 
 
 [Lord Norland j^o«j/ surprise, 
 
 Har, [Jsideto Sir Robert] Hush, hush !-7Don't. 
 talk of your virtues now. 
 
 LordN. Sir Robert, to all your incoherent lan- 
 gfuage, this is my answer, thid is my will : the lady, 
 
Jci ir] HAS HIS FAULT. ^ 
 
 to whom I have had the honour to be guardian, shall 
 never (while she calls me friend) see you more. 
 
 [Sir Robert, at this sentence, stands silent for 
 soiHc timey then, suddenly recollecting hhnself: 
 
 Sir R. Lord Norland, I am to* well acquainted 
 with the truth of your word, and the firmneoS of your 
 temper, to press my suit one sentence farther. 
 
 Lord N. I commend your discernment. 
 
 Sir R. My lord, I feel myself a little embarrassed. 
 — I am afiaid I have made myself a little ridiculous 
 upon thi? occasion — Will your lordship do me the 
 favour to forget it ? 
 
 Lord N. I will forget whatever you please. 
 
 Har. [Following him, avhijj)ers] 1 am sorry to see 
 you going away in de:pair. 
 
 Sir R. I never did despair in my life, sir ; and 
 while a woman is the object of my wishes, I never 
 will. [Exit. 
 
 Lord N. What did he say ? 
 
 Har. That he thought your conduct, that of a just 
 and an upright man. 
 
 Lord N. To say the truth, he has gone away with 
 better manners than I could have imagined, consider- 
 ing his jealou:>y is provoked 
 
 Har. Ah ! I always knew he loved his wife, not- 
 withstanding his behaviour to her ; for, if you re- 
 member — he always spoke well of her behind her 
 back. 
 
 Lord N. No, I do not remember it. 
 
 Har. Yes, he did ; and that is the only criterion 
 of a man's love, or of his friendship. 
 
 JEnter a Servant. 
 
 Serv- A young gentleman is at the door, sir, in- 
 quiring for Lord Norland. 
 Lord N. Who can it be ? 
 
 Har. Your young gentleman from home, I dare 
 say. Desire him to walk in. Bring him here. 
 
 [Exit Servant. 
 £2 
 
54 EVERY ONE [Irichbald. 
 
 Lord N. What business can behave to follow me? 
 Enter Edward. 
 
 Ednv-^ Oh, my lord, I beg your pardon for coming 
 hither, but I come to tell you something you will be 
 glad to hear. 
 
 Har. Good Heaven, how like his mother ! 
 
 Lord N. [Tak'mg him by the hand] I begin to think 
 he is But he VvMS not so when I first took him. No, 
 no, if he had, he would not have been thus near me 
 now ; — but to turn him away because his countenance 
 is a little changed, I think would not be right. 
 
 Edxk). [To Harmony] Pray^ sir, did you know 
 my mother I 
 
 Har. I have seen her. 
 
 Ed-w. Did you ever see her, my lord ? 
 
 Lord N. I thought, you had orders never to in- 
 quire about your parents ? — Have you forgot those 
 orders ? 
 
 Edw. No, my lord ; — but when this gentleman 
 said, I was like my mother — it put me in mind of her, 
 
 Har. You do not remember your mother, do you ? 
 
 Edqv. Sometimes I think I do. I think sometimes 
 I remember her kissing me, when she and my father 
 went on board of a ship ; and so hard she pressed me 
 — I think I feel it now. 
 
 Har. Perhaps she was the only lady that ever- sa- 
 luted you ? 
 
 Edw. No, sir, not by many. 
 
 Lord N. But, pray, young man, (to have done with 
 this subject,) what brought you here ? You seem to 
 have forgot your errand I 
 
 Edqju. And so I had, upon my word. Speaking 
 of my mother, put it quite out of my mind —But, 
 my lord, I came to let you know, the robber, who 
 stopped you last night, is taken. 
 
 Lord N. I am glad to hear it. 
 
 Edw. I knew you would, and therefore I begged 
 to be the first to tell vou. 
 
Act TF] HAS HIS FAULT. Sf 
 
 Har. [To Lord Norland] Should you know the 
 person again ? 
 
 Lord N. I cannot say, I should ; his face seemed 
 80 much distorted. 
 
 Har. Ay, wretched man ! I suppose, with terror. 
 
 Lord N. No ; it appeared a different passion from 
 fear. 
 
 Har. Perhaps, my lord, it was your fear, that 
 made you think so. 
 
 Lord N. No, sir, I was not frightened. 
 
 £driu. Then, why did you give him your money ? 
 
 Lord N. It was surprise, caused me to do that. 
 
 £dav. I wondered what it was ! You said it was 
 not fear, and I was sure it could not be love. 
 
 Har. How has he been taken ? 
 
 £diu. A person came to our steward, and inform- 
 ed agamst him — r-and, Oh ! my lord, his poor wife 
 told the officers, who took him, they had met with 
 mi^jfortunes, which she feared had caused a fever in 
 her husband's head: and, indeed, they found him 
 too ill to be removed ; and so, she hoped, she said, 
 that, as a man not in his perfect mind, you would be 
 merciful to him. 
 
 Lord N. I will be just. 
 
 £div. And that is being merciful, is it not, my 
 lord? 
 
 Lord N. Not always. 
 
 £dw. I thought it had been.— It is not just to be 
 unmerciful, is it ? 
 Lord N. Certainly not. 
 £d^u. Then it must be just, to have mercy. 
 
 Lord N. You draw a false conclusion. Great 
 
 as the virtue of mercy is, justice is greater still. — 
 Jutice holds its place among those cardinal virtues, 
 which include all the lesser.— Come, Mr. Harmony, 
 will you go home with me ? And, before I attend to 
 thij business, let me persuade you to forget there is 
 such a person in the world as Sir R obert Ramble, and 
 suffer me to introduce you to Mi.-; s Woobum, as the 
 man who — — 
 
56 EVERY ONE [Incfjbald' 
 
 Har. I beg to be excused — Besides the consid era- 
 tion of Sir Robert, I have another reason why I can- 
 not go with you. — The melancholy tale, which this 
 young gentleman has been telling, has cast a gloom 
 on my spirits, which renders me unfit for the society 
 of a lady. 
 
 Lord N. Now I should not be surprised , were you 
 to go in search of this culprit and his family, and 
 come to me to intreat me to torego the prosecution j. 
 but, before you ask me, I tell you it is in vain — I will 
 no 
 
 Har Lord Norland, I have lately been so unsuc- 
 cessful in my petitions to you, I shall never presume 
 to interpose between your rigour and a weak sufferer 
 more. 
 
 Ijord N. Plead the cause of the good, and I will 
 li?ten ; but you find none but the wicked for your 
 compassion. 
 
 Har. The good, in all states, even in the very gra=^ 
 of death, are objects of envy ; it is the bad wiio are 
 the only sufferers There, where no internal conso- 
 lation cheers, who can refuse a little external com- 
 fort ? — And, let me tell you, my lord, that, amidst 
 all your authoiity, your state, your grandeur, I often 
 pity you. [^Speaking wii/j unaffected coivpauion, 
 
 t.ord N. Good day, Mr. Harmony ; and when 
 you have apologized for v/hat you have said, we may 
 be friends again. \_Exit, leading o^ Edward. 
 
 Har. Nay, hear my apology now. I cannot — no, 
 it is not in my nature, to live in resentment, nor un- 
 <Jer the resentment of any creature in the world. 
 
 [Exit, folio-wing Lord Norland. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 An Apartment ^/ Lord Norland's. 
 
 Enter Sir Robert Ramble, /o/Zoty^^ ^j' « Ser- 
 vant. 
 Sir R. Do not say who it is — but say, a gentleman, 
 who has some particular bubiness with her. 
 
Act ir.] HAS HIS FAULT. 57 
 
 " Serv. Yes, sir. [Going. 
 
 SirR. Pray, — [Servant return s] You have but 
 lately come into this service, I believe ? 
 
 Ser-v. Only a few days, sir. 
 
 Sir R. You don't knov^ me, then ? 
 
 Ser'v. No, sir. 
 
 Si ■ R. I am very glad of it. So much the better, 
 — — Go to Miss Wonburn, with a stranger's com- 
 pliments, who is waiting, and who begs to speak with 
 her, upon an affair of importance. 
 
 Serv. Yes, sir. [Exit. 
 
 Sir R. I wish I may die, if I don't feel very unac- 
 countably ! How different are our sensations to- 
 wards our wives, and all other women ! This is the 
 very first time she has given me a palpitation since 
 the honeymoon. 
 
 Enter Miss Wooburn, ivbo starts on seeing SiR Ro- 
 bert ; — he bows in great confusion. 
 
 Miss W. Support me. Heaven ! [Aside, 
 
 Sir R. [Bo(ws repeatedly, and does not speak till after 
 many efforts] Was ever man in such confusion before 
 his wife ! [ylside. 
 
 Miss W. Sir Robert, having recovered, in some 
 measure, from the surprise into which this intrusion 
 first threw me, I have only to say, — that, whatever 
 pretence may have induced you to offer me this in- 
 sult, there is not any that can oblige me to bear with 
 it. [Goings 
 
 SirR. Lady R3.mh— [Recalling himself ]Mls5Woo-^ 
 [She turns] Lady Ramble — [Recalling himself again\ 
 Miss Wooburn — Madam — You wror-g me-— There 
 was a time when linsulted ycu, I confer : but it is 
 impossible that time should ever ixturn. 
 
 Miss W. While I stay with you I incur the dan- 
 ger. [Qohig, 
 
 Sir R. [Holding her] Nay, listen to me, as a friend, 
 whom you have so often heard as an enemy. — You. 
 
58 EVERY ONE [InchhaU, 
 
 offered me a favour by the hands of Mr. Harmony — -^ 
 
 Miss W And is this the motive of your visit — this 
 the return — 
 
 Sir R. No, madam, that obligation was not tht 
 motive which drew me hither — The real cause of this 
 seeming intrusion is — you are going to be married 
 once more, and I come to warn you of your danger. 
 
 Miss W. That you did sufficiently in the marriage 
 state. 
 
 Sir R. But now I come to offer you advice, that 
 may be <»f the most material consequence, should you 
 really be determined to yield yourself again into the 
 power of a husband, 
 
 Misi W Which I most asuredly am. 
 
 Sir R. Happy, happy man I How much is he the 
 object of my envy ! None so well as I, know how to 
 envy nim because none so well as I, know how to 
 value you \^be offers to g6\ Nay, by Heaven, you 
 shall not go, till you have heard all that I came to 
 say ! 
 
 Miss W Speak it then, instantly. 
 
 Sir R. No, it would take whole ages to speak ; 
 and should we live together, as long as we have lived 
 together, still I should not find time to tell you — 
 how much I love you 
 
 [/i loud rapping at the street door* 
 
 Miss IV. That, I hope, is Lord Norland. 
 
 Sir R. And what has Lord Norland to do with 
 souls free as ours r Let us go to Scotland again : and 
 again bid defiance to his stern commands. 
 
 Miss W, Be assured, that through him only, will 
 I ever listen to a syllable you have to utter. 
 
 iS/'r R. One syllable only, and I am gone that in- 
 stant. 
 ' Miss W. Well, sir ? 
 
 \He hesitates, trembles. Seems to Struggle fwith 
 himself; then approaching her slowly, timid'- 
 ly, and, a. if ashamed of his humiliation, 
 kneels to her — She turrts a^vay. 
 
^ttir.] HAS HIS FAULT. 5d 
 
 SirR [Kneeling] Maria, Maria, look at me! — 
 Look at me in this humble state — Could you have 
 suspected this, Maria ? 
 
 Miss W No : nor can I conceive what this 
 mockery means. 
 
 S;r R. It means, that, now you are no longer my 
 wife, you are my goddess ; and thus I offer you my 
 supplication, that, (if you are resolved not to live 
 single) amongst the numerous train who present their 
 suit, — you will once more select me. 
 
 Miss W. You ! — You, who have treated me with 
 cruelty ; who made no secret of your love for others ; 
 but gloried, boasted of your gallantries. 
 
 S/r R. I did, I did — But here I swear, only trust 
 me again — do but once more trust me, and I swear 
 by all I hold most sacred, that I will, for the future, 
 carefully conceal all my gallantries from your know- 
 ledge — though they were ten times more frequent 
 than they were before. 
 
 Enter EdwarD* 
 
 Ediv. Oh, my dear Miss Wooburn^-What I Sir 
 Robert here too ! {Goes to Sir Robert, and shakes 
 bandii] How do you do, Sir Robert ? Who wouid 
 have thought of seeing you here ? I aryi glad to see 
 you, though, with all my heart ; and so, I dare say, 
 U Miss Wooburn, though she may not like to say so. 
 
 Miss W. You are impertinent, sir. 
 
 Ednu. What, for coming in I I will go away then. 
 
 Sir. R. Do, do — there's a good boy — do. 
 
 JJi/ru. \_Goingi returns'] I cannot help laughing, 
 though to see you two together ! — for you know you 
 were never together when you lived in the same 
 house. 
 
 Sir R. Leave the room instantly, sir, or I shall 
 call Lord Norland. 
 
 Edw. Oh, don't take that trouble ; I will call him 
 nvyself. \'Ktms to the door] My lord ! my lord ! pray 
 
jfiO EVERY ONE [Inchbald, 
 
 come hither this moment — As I am alive, here is Sir 
 Robert Ramble along with Lady Ramble i 
 
 Enter Lord Norland. 
 
 [Sir Robert looks confounded — Lord Nor- 
 hAHiD points to Edward to lea-ve the room. 
 [Exit Edward. 
 
 Lord N. Sir Robert, on what pretence do you 
 come hither ? 
 
 Sir R. On the same pretence as when I was, for 
 the first time, admitted into your house 5 to solicit 
 this lady's hand : and, after having had it once, no 
 force shall compel me to take a refusal. 
 
 Lord N. I will try, however — Madam, quit th^ 
 room instantly. 
 
 Sir Ji. She shall not quit it. 
 
 Lord N. I command her to go. 
 
 Sir i?. And I command her to stay. 
 
 LordN. Which of us will you obey ^ 
 
 Mi?s W. My inclination, my lord, disposes me to 
 obey you ; — but I have so lately been accustomed to 
 obey him ; that custom inclines me to obey him 
 still. 
 
 Sir R. There ! there ! there, my lord ! Now 4 
 hope you will understand better for the future, and 
 not attempt to interfere between a man and his wife .'' 
 
 LordN. [To Miss Wooburn] Be explicit in 
 
 your answer to this questioh — Will you con-jent 
 
 to be his wife ? 
 
 Miss W. No, never. 
 
 Sir R. Zounds, my lord ! now you are hurrying 
 matters. — You should do it by gentle means ; — let 
 me ask her gently — [JVith a most soft "joice] Maria, 
 Maria, will you be my wife once again ? 
 
 Miss IV. Never. 
 
 5/V R. So you said seven years ago, when I asked 
 you, and yet you consented. 
 
 LordN. And now, Sir Robert, you have fead your 
 
Act jr.] HAS HIS FAULT. 61- 
 
 answer ; leave my house. [Going up to klm. 
 
 Sir R- Yes, sir ; but not without my other half. 
 
 Lord N. Your other half ? 
 
 Sir R Yes ; the wife of my bosom -the wife, 
 whom I swore at the altar <' to love and :o cherish, 
 and, forsaking all others, cleave only to iier, as !oiig 
 as we both should Tn'e." 
 
 Lord N. You broke your oath, and made the 
 contract void. 
 
 Sir R. But I am ready to take another oath, nnd 
 another after that, and another after that — And, Oh ! 
 my dear Maria, be propitiou;^ to my vow?, and .jive 
 me hopes you will again be mine. 
 
 [He goes to her^ and kneels in the most Suppli' 
 eating attitude. 
 
 Enter Edward, showing in Mr. Solus aiid Mr. 
 Placid ; Ed^ ^k-d points to Sir Robert (who has 
 his back to them) and goes off. 
 
 Sir R. [Still on his knees, and not perceiving • heir £■;:- 
 trance"] I cannot live without you. — Receive your 
 penitent husband, thus humbly acknowledging his 
 faults, and imploring you to accept him once again. 
 
 Sol. [Going icp fc? Sir Robert] Now, is it wonder- 
 ful that I should want a wife ? 
 
 Plac. And is it to be wondered at, if I should hesi-. 
 tate about parting with mine ? 
 
 Sir R. [Starts up in great confusion] Mr. Solus, 
 Mr. Placid, I am highly ditplea^ed that my private 
 actions should be thus inspected. 
 
 Sol. No one shall persuade me now, to live a day 
 without a wife. 
 
 Plac. And no one shall persuade me now, not to 
 be content with my owrn. 
 
 Sol. I will procure a special licence, and marry 
 the first woman I meet. 
 
 Sir R. Mr. Solus, you are, I believe, interested in a 
 peculiar manner, about the marriage of this lady. 
 
 Sol. And, poor man, you are sick, and want some- 
 F 
 
66 EVERY ONE [Inchbald* 
 
 body to bathe your temples, and to hover about you . 
 
 Miss W. You come in most opportunely, my dear 
 Mr. Solus, to be a witness 
 
 Sir R. My dear Mr. Solus ! 
 
 Sol. To be a witness, madam, that a man is misera- 
 ble without a wife. I have been a fatal instance of 
 that, for some time. 
 
 Miss IV. Come to me, then, and receive a lesson. 
 
 Sit R. No, madam, he shall not come to you ; nor 
 shall he receive a lesson. No one shall receive a les- 
 son from you, but myself. 
 
 'Lord iV. Sir Robert, one would suppose, by this 
 extraordinary behaviour, you were jealous. 
 
 Sir R. And so I am, my lord ; I have cause to be so. 
 
 Lord N. No cause to be jealous of Mr. Solus — he 
 is not Miss Wooburn's lover, 1 assure you. 
 
 Sit R. Then, my lord, I verily believe it is your- 
 self. Yes, I can see it is ; I can see it in her eyes, 
 and by every feature in your face. 
 
 Miss W. Oh i my good friend, Mr. Placid, only 
 listen to him. 
 
 Sir R, And why, my good friend,Mr. Placid ? — 
 [To Placid] By Heavens, sir, I believe that you only 
 wished to get rid of your own wife, in order to mar- 
 ry mine. 
 
 Plac. I do not wish to part with my own wife. Sir 
 Robert, since what I have just seen- 
 
 Sir R. [Going up to Solus a?id Lord Norland] 
 Then, pray, gentlemen, be so good as to tell me, 
 which of you two is the happy man, that I may know 
 how to conduct myself towards him ? 
 
 Miss W. Ha 1 ha ! ha ! 
 
 Sir R. Do you insult me, Maria ? — Oh ! have pity 
 on my sufferings. 
 
 Sol. If you have a mind to kneel down again, we 
 will go out of the room. 
 
 Plac. Just as I was comforting myself with the 
 prospect of a divorce, I find my instructor and di* 
 rector pleading on his knees to be remarried. 
 
4ci IF.] HAS HIS FAULT. 69 
 
 Enter Mrs Placid, cmdo steals upon Mr. Placid 
 unfercei'ved, 
 
 Mrs. P. What were you saying about a divorce ? 
 
 Sir a. Now, clown on your knees, and beg pardon. 
 
 Miss IV. My dear Mrs. Placid, if tiiis visit is to 
 me, I take it very kind. 
 
 Mrs. p. Not absolutely to you, my dear. I saw 
 Mr. Placid's carriage at the door, and so I stepped 
 in to desire him to go home directly. 
 
 Plac. Presently, my dear ; I will go presently. 
 
 Mrs. P Presently won't do : I say, directly. There 
 is a lady at my house in the greatest possible distress 
 —[IVhhpfrs /&/w]— Lady Eleanor— I never saw a crea- 
 ture in eiich distraction ; [Raising her voice} there- 
 fore go home this moment ; you shan't stay an 
 instant lonj^er. 
 
 Sol, Egaa ,1 don't know whether I will marry or 
 no. 
 
 Mrs. P W hy don't you go, Mr. Placid, when I 
 bid you ? 
 
 Sol No ',—1 think I won't marry. 
 
 Piac, Bui, my dear, will not you go home with 
 me ? 
 
 Mrs, P. Did not I tell you to go by yourself ? 
 
 [Placid bo-ius., and goes off, 
 
 Sol, No ; — I am sure I won't marry 
 
 Lord N. And now, Mr Solus and Sir Robert, 
 these ladiei may have some private convertiation Do 
 me the favour to leave them alone. 
 
 Miss W. My lord, with your leave, we will retire. 
 Turns -xhen she gets to the door] Sir Robert, I have 
 remained in your company, and compelled myself to 
 the painful ta.k of hearing all you have had to say, 
 merely for the satisfaction of expo.-ing your love ; and 
 ^hen enjoying the .riumph, of bidding you farewell 
 for ever [Exit .-with Mrs. Placid. 
 
 Sol. [Looking ?tedfastly at Sir Robert He turns 
 pale at the thougnts of losing her. Yes, I think V\\ 
 marry. 
 
«^ EVERY ONE [hichbald. 
 
 Come, Sir Robert, it is vain to loiter-; 
 yo. ■- ^xed. 
 
 ' i>. , //iclancholy musing tone] Shall I then 
 
 neve", i -^ ' •> r^ow what it is to have a heart like hers,_ 
 to rep, .ny *roiible^ on ? 
 
 Sc// Yci, I iin pretty sure I'll marry. 
 
 Sir R — A- Tiiend la all my anxieties, a companion 
 in ail my pleasures, a physician in all my sicknesses — 
 
 Sol Ye3, I will marry 
 
 Lord N. Come, come, Sir Robert, do not let 
 you and I have any dispute. 
 
 [Leadh:g him toivards the door. 
 
 Sir R. Senseless man, not to value those blessings 
 —Not to know how to e'^timate them, till they were 
 lost. [Lord Norland leads him off, 
 
 Soi [Fol/oiving] Yes, — I am determined ; — nothing 
 shall prevent me — I will be married. [Exii, 
 
 ACT THE FIFTH. 
 
 Ait Aj^artment ^jfLoRD Norland's. 
 Enter Hammond, follovoed by Lady Eleanor. 
 
 Ham. My lord is busily engaged, madam ; I do 
 not suppose he would vsee any one, much Ifess a 
 stranger. 
 
 Lady E. I am no stranger. 
 
 Ham. Your name then, madam ? 
 
 Lady E Thai I cannot send \\\ But tell him, sir, 
 I am the afflicted wife of a man, who, for some weeks 
 
Act F.] HAS HIS FAULT. 6^ 
 
 past, has given many fatal proofs of a disordered 
 mind. In one of those fits of phrensy, he held an in- 
 strument of death, meant for his own destruction, to 
 the breast of your lord (who by accident that moment 
 passed,) and took from him, what he vainly hoped 
 might preserve his own life, and relieve the want- of 
 his family. But, his paroxysm over, he shrunk from 
 what he had done, and gave the whole he had thus 
 unwarrantably taken, into a servant's hands, to be re- 
 turned to its lawful owner. The man, admitted to 
 this confidence, betrayed his trust, and instead of 
 giving up what was sacredly delivered to him, secret- 
 ed it ; an . to obtain the promised reward, came to 
 this house, but to inform against the wretched offend- 
 er ; who now, only resting on your lord's clemency, 
 can escape the direful fale he has incurred. 
 
 Ham. Madam, the account you give, makes me in- 
 terested in your behalf, and you may depend, I will 
 repeat it all with the greatest exactness. 
 
 [Lxit Hammonp- 
 
 Laiiy E. [Looking rqwid] This is my father't-hou^e! 
 It is only through two room^ and one thoit passage, 
 and there he is sitting in his study. Oh ! in that 
 study, where I (even in the midst of all his business) 
 have been so often welcome ; where I have urged 
 the suit of many an unhappy per-on. nor ever urged 
 in vain, Now I am not permitted to speak for my- 
 self, nor have one friendly voice to do that office for 
 me, which I have so often undertaken for others. 
 
 Enter Hammond, E d w a r d foUoaving. 
 
 Ham. My lord says, that any petition concerning 
 the person you come about, is of no use. His re- 
 spect for th e laws of his country demands an exam- 
 ple such as he means to make 
 
 Lady E. Am 1, am I to de-pair then ? [To Ham- 
 mond] Dear sir, would you go once more to him, 
 and humbi y represent 
 
 Ham. I should be happy to oblige you, but I dare 
 f 2 
 
$6 EVERY ONE [Inchbald.* 
 
 not take any more messages to my lord ; he has 
 given me my answer. — If you will give me leave, 
 madam, I'll see you to the door. 
 
 [Crosses to the other sidej and goes off» 
 
 Lady E. Misery — Distraction ! — Oh, Mr. Placid ! 
 Oh, Mr. Harmony ! Are these the hopes you gave 
 me, could I have the boldness to enter this house l 
 But you would neither of you undertake to bring me 
 here ! — neither of you undertake to speak for me ! 
 
 [She is following the Servant; Edward vtalks 
 softly after her^ till she gets near the door ; he 
 then takes hold of her go^MU, and gently pulls it ; 
 she turns and looks at him, 
 
 Edcw- Shall I speak for you, madam ? 
 
 Lady E- Who are you, pray, young gentleman ? — 
 Isit you, whom Lord Norland has adopted for his son ? 
 . Ed-w, I believe he has, madam ; but he has never 
 told me so yet. 
 
 Lady E. I am obliged to you fcgr your offer ; but 
 my suit is of too much consequence for you to un- 
 dertake. 
 
 Ed-ji\ I know what your suit is, madam, because I 
 was with my lord when Hammond brought in your 
 message ; and I was so sorry for you, I came out on 
 purpose to see you— and, without speaking to my 
 lord, I could do you a great kindness— if I durst. 
 
 l.ady E. What kindness ? 
 
 Edw. But I durst not — No, do not ask me. 
 
 Lady E I do not. But you have increased my 
 anxiety, and in a mind so distracted as mine, it is 
 cruel to excite one additional pain. 
 
 £d<w. I am sure I would not add to your grief for 
 the world. — But then, pray do not speak of what I 
 am going to say. — I heard my lord's lawyer tell him 
 just now, " that, as he said he should not know the 
 pei-son again, who committed the otfence about which 
 you came, and as the man who informed against him 
 is gone off, there could be no evidence that he did 
 the action, but from a book, a particular pocketbook, 
 
Mt r.] HAS HIS FAULT. 67 
 
 of my lord's, v/hich he forgot to deliver to his ser. 
 vant with the notes and money he returned, and 
 which was found upon him at your house : and this 
 Lord Norland will affirm to be his." — Now, if I did 
 not think 1 was doing wrong, this is the very book— 
 [Takes a pockctbook from hh pocket] I took it from my 
 lord's table ; — but it would be doing wrong, or X am 
 sure I wish you had it. [Looking wishfully at her. 
 
 Lady E. It will save my life> my husband's, and 
 my children's. 
 
 'Edr,u. [Trembling] But what is to become of me ? 
 
 Lady E. That Providence who never punishes the 
 deed, unless the will be an accomplice, shall protect 
 you, for saving one, who has only erred in a moment 
 of distraction. 
 
 Edrju. I never did any thing to offend my lord in 
 my life ; — and I am in such f<jai of him, I did not 
 think I ever should. — ^^Yet I cannot refuse you ; — 
 take it.— [C/T'^j her the book] But pity me, when my 
 lord shall know of it. 
 
 hady E. Oh ! should he discard you for what 
 you have done, it will embitter every moment of my 
 remaining life. 
 
 Edxs). Do not frighten yourself about that.-— I 
 think he loves me too well to discard me quite. 
 
 L.ady E. Does he indeed i* 
 
 Edw. I think he does ! — for often, when we art: 
 alone, he presses me to his bosom so fondly, you 
 would not suppose — And, when my poor nurse died, 
 she called me to her bedside, and told me (but pray 
 keep it a secret) — she told me I was — his grandchild. 
 
 Lady E. You are — you are his grandchild — I see, 
 — I feel you are ; — for I feel that I am your mother. 
 [Embraces him] Oh ! take this evidence back. [J^c- 
 turning the book] — I cannot receive it from thee, my 
 child ; — no, let us all perish, rather than my boy, my 
 only boy, should do an act to stain his conscience, 
 or to lose his grandfather's love. 
 
 Edw> What do you mean i 
 
6$ EVERY ONE \lnchhald, 
 
 \jady E. The name of the person with whom yoi| 
 lived in your infancy, was Heyland ? 
 
 Ediu. It was. 
 
 Ijudy £, I am your mother ; Lord Norland's only 
 child, [Edward Aneeh] who, for one act of disobe- 
 dience, have been driven to another part of the globe 
 in poverty, and forced to leave you, my life, behind, 
 [iS"^^ embraces and raises him\ Your father, in his 
 struggles to support us all, has fallen a victim ; — 
 but Heaven, which has preserved my son, will save 
 my husband, restore his senses, and once more 
 
 Ediu [Starting] I hear my lord's step, — he is 
 poming this way :— rBegone, mother, or we are all 
 undone. 
 
 Lady E. No, let him come — for though his frown 
 should kill me, yet must I thank him for his care of 
 thee. \She. advances towards the door, to meet him. 
 
 Enter LORD NoRLANE!. 
 
 [Lady E. falls on her knees'] You love me, — 'tis in 
 vain to say you do not. You love my child ; and 
 with whatever hardship you have dealt, or still mean 
 to deal by me, I will never cease to think you love 
 me, nor ever cease my gratitude for your goodness. 
 
 Ijord N. Where ^re my servants ? Who let this 
 woman in ? 
 
 [She rises, and retreats from him, alarmed and 
 confused. 
 
 Edw. Oh, my lord, pity her. — Do not let me see 
 her hardly treated — Indeed I cannot bear it. 
 
 ^«/^r Hammond, 
 
 "Lord N. [To Lady Eleanor] What was your er- 
 rand here ? If to see your child, take him away with 
 you. 
 
 Lady E. I came to see my father ; — I have a |jou:e 
 too full of such as he already. 
 
Act r.]' HAS lilS FAULT. «V 
 
 Lord iV. IIow did she gain admittance ? 
 
 Ham, With a petition, which I repeated to your 
 lordship. [Exit Hammokd. 
 
 Lord N. Her husband, then, it was, who — [To LA' 
 Dt Eleanor] But let him know, for this boy's sake, 
 I will no longer pursue him. 
 
 Lady E. For that boy's sake you will not pursue 
 his father ; but for whose sake are you so tender of 
 that boy i 'Tis for mine, for my sake ; and by that I 
 conjure you— [Ofers to kneel. 
 
 Lord iV. Your prayers are vain — \To Edward] 
 Go, take leave cf your mother for ever, and instantly 
 follow me ; — or shake hands with me for tlie la«(t 
 time, and instantly begone with her. 
 
 Ediu, '< Stands bet'iveen them in doubt for some little 
 time ; looks alternately at each ivith emotions of affec' 
 tion ; at last goes to his grandfather, and takes hold 
 of his hand} Farewell, my lord, — it almost breaks 
 my heart to part from you ; — but if I have my 
 choice, r must go with my mother. 
 
 [Exit LoKB Norland instantly. — Lady Eleanor 
 atid her son go off the opposite side. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Another Apartment at Lord Norland's. 
 Enter Miss Wooburn and Mrs. Placid. 
 
 Mrs. P. Well, my dear, farewell. — I have stayed 
 a great while longer than 1 intended — I certainly 
 forgot to tell Mr. Placid to come back after he had 
 spoken with Lady Eleanor, or he would not have 
 taken the liberty not to have come. 
 
 Miss JV. How often have I lamented the fate of 
 Lord Norland's daughter ! But, luckily, I have no 
 personal acquaintance with her, or I sliould proba- 
 bly feel a great deal more on her account than I do 
 
Ta EVERY ONI^ [Inchbald. 
 
 at present.— She had quitted her father's house be- 
 fore I came to it. 
 
 Enter Mr. Harmony. 
 Har* My whole life is passed in endeavouring to 
 make people happy, and yet they won't let me do 
 it. — I flattered myself, that after I had resigned all 
 pretensions to you. Miss Wooburn, in order to ac- 
 commodate Sir Robert — that, after I had told both 
 my lord and him, in what high estimation they stood 
 in each other*s opinion, they would of course have 
 been friends ; or, at least not have come to any des- 
 perate quarrel : — instead of which, what have they 
 done, but, within this hour, had a duel ! — and poor 
 Sir Robert- 
 Miss W. For Heaven's sake, tell me of Sir Rof>ert — 
 
 Har. You were the only person he mentioned af- 
 .ter he received his wound ; and such encomiums as 
 ie uttered 
 
 Miss W, Good Heaven ? If he is in danger, it will 
 
 be vain to endeavour to conceal what I shall suffer. 
 
 [Retires a fenv paces, to hide her emotions, 
 
 MrS' P' Was my husband there I 
 
 Har. He was one of the seconds. 
 
 Mrs. p. Then he shall not stir out of his house 
 his month, for it. 
 
 Har. He is not likely ; for he is hurt too. 
 
 Mrs. /*. A great deal hurt ? 
 
 Har Don't alarm yourself. 
 
 Mrs. P. I don't. 
 
 jjar Nay, if you had heard what he said ! 
 
 Mrs. P. What did he say ? 
 
 Har How tenderly he spoke of you to all his 
 friends 
 
 Mrs P. But what did he say ? 
 
 Har. He said, you had imperfections. 
 
 Mrs. P, Then he told a falsehood. 
 
 Har. But he acknowledged they were such as only 
 evinced a superior understanding to the rest of your 
 sex ; -and that your heart 
 
 Mrs. P, [Bursting inte tears.] I am sure I am very 
 
jict r.] HAS HIS FAULT. ^1 
 
 sorry that any misfortune has happened to him, poor 
 silly man ! But I don't suppose [Drying up her tear^ 
 at once.] he'll die. 
 
 Har. If you will behave kindly to him, I should 
 suppose not. 
 
 Mrs. P. Mr. Harmony, if Mr. Placid is either dy* 
 ing or dead, I shall behave with very great tenderness ; 
 but if I find him alive, and likely to live, I will lead 
 him such a life as he has not led a long time. 
 
 Har. Then you mean to be kind ?— But, my dear 
 Miss Wooburn, [Going to her.] why this seeming 
 grief ? Sir Robert is still living ; and should he die 
 of his wounds, you may at least console yourself, that 
 it was not your cruelty which killed him. 
 
 Miss W, Rather than have such a weight on my 
 conscience, I would comply with the most extrava- 
 gant of his desires, and suffer his cruelty to be the 
 death of me. 
 
 Har. If those are your sentiments, it is my advice 
 that you pay him a visit in his affliction* 
 
 Miss W, Oh no, Mr. Harmony, I would not for the 
 universe. Mrs. Placid, do you think it would be 
 proper ? 
 
 Mrs. P, No, I think it would not — consider, my 
 dear, you are no longer a wife, but a single woman, 
 and would you run into the clutches of a man \ 
 
 Har. He has no clutches, madam ; he is ill in bed, 
 and totally helpless. — But, upon recollection, it 
 would, perhaps, be needless to go; for he may be 
 too ill to admit you. 
 
 Mi^s W. If that is the case, all respect to my situa- 
 tion, my character, sinks before the strong desire of 
 seeing him once more. Oh ! were I married to an- 
 other, I feel, that, in spite of all my private declara- 
 tions, or public vows, I should fly from him, to pay 
 my duty where it was first plighted. 
 
 Har. My coach is at the door ; shall I take you 
 to his house I Come, Mrs. Placid, wave all ceremo- 
 nious motives, on the present melancholy occasion, 
 and go along with Miss Wooburn and mc. 
 
^ EVERY ONE [InchbaU. 
 
 Miss W- But Mrs. Placid, perhaps poor Mr. Pla- 
 cid is in want of your attendance at home. 
 
 Har. No, they were both carried in the same cap*, 
 riage to Sir Robert's. 
 
 Miss IV. {As Harmony leads her to the door.] Oh ! 
 how I long to see my dear husband, that I may con- 
 sole him ! 
 
 Mrs. p. Oh ! how I long to see my dear husband, 
 that I may quan-el with him ! [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 The Hall at SiK Robe-rt Ramble's. 
 Ty&f Porter discovered asleep. 
 
 'Enter a Footman. 
 
 Foot. Porter, porter, how can you sleep at this time 
 of the day ? — ^^It is only eight o'clock. 
 
 Por. What did you want, Mr. William ? 
 
 Foot. To tell you my master must not be disturb- 
 ed and so you must not let in a single creature* 
 
 Por. Mr. William, this is no less than the third 
 time I have received those orders within this half 
 hour ; — First from the butler, then from the valet, 
 and now from the footman. — Do you all suppose I 
 am stupid ? 
 
 Foot. 1 was bid to tell you. 1 have only done 
 what I was desired ; and mind you do the same. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Por. ril do my duty, I warant you- I'll do my 
 duty. [A lond rapping at the door ] And there's a sum* 
 mons, to put my duty to the trial. [Opens the door. 
 
 'Enter HaRMONy, Miss Wooburn, and Mrs. 
 Placid. 
 Hat 4 These ladies come on a visit to Sir Robert, 
 
Act r.] HAS HIS FAULT. 73 
 
 • 
 Desire one of the servants to conduct them to him 
 instantly. 
 
 Porter. Indeed, sir, that is impossible — My master 
 is not 
 
 Har. We know he is at home, and therefore we 
 can take no denial. 
 
 Porter. I own he is at home, sir ; but, indeed, he 
 is not in a situation 
 
 Miss W. We know his situation. 
 
 Porter. Then, madam, you must suppose he is not 
 to be disturbed. I have strict orders not to let in a 
 single soul. 
 
 Har, This lady, you must be certain, is an excep- 
 tion. 
 
 Porter, No lady can be an exception in my mas- 
 ter's present state ; for I believe, sir, but — perhaps, 
 I should not speak of it— I believe my master is 
 nearly gone. 
 
 Miss W. Oh ! support me, Heaven ! 
 
 Mrs, P. But has he his senses I 
 
 Porter. Not very clearly, I believe. 
 
 Miss JV. Oh, Mr. Harmony, let me see him, before 
 they are quite lost. 
 
 Porter. It is as much as my place is worth, to let 
 a creature farther than this hall ; for my master is 
 but in the next room. 
 
 Mrs. P. That is a dining room. Is not he in bed ^ 
 
 Har. [Aside to the ladies.'] In case of wounds, the. 
 patient is often propped up in his chair. 
 
 Miss W. Does he talk at all ? 
 
 Porter, Yes, madam, I heard him just now very 
 loud. 
 
 Miss W. [Listening.] I think I heard him rave. 
 
 Har. No, that murmuring is the voice of other 
 persons. 
 
 Mrs. P. The physicians in consulation, I apprft 
 hend. Has he taken any thing ? 
 
 Porter. A great deal, I believe, madam^ 
 
 Mrs» P. No amputation, I hope ; 
 G 
 
74 EVERY ONE {Incbhald. 
 
 Porter. What, madam ? 
 
 Har. He does not understand you. [To Mtss 
 WooBURN.] — Come, will you go back? 
 
 Porter. Do, my lady, and call in the morning. 
 
 Mis^ JV. By that time he may be totally insensible, 
 and die without knowing how much I am attached 
 to him 
 
 Mrs. P. And my husband may die without know- 
 itig how angry I am with him !— Mr. Harmony, nev- 
 er mind this foolish man, but force your way into 
 the next room. 
 
 Porter. Indeed, sir, you must not. Pray, Mr. Har- 
 mony, pray, ladies, go away. 
 
 Miss W. Yes, I must go from my husband's house 
 fqr ever, never to see that, or him again ! 
 
 [Fahitson Mr. Harmony. 
 
 Mrs. p. She is fainting — open the windows 
 
 give her air. 
 
 Porter- Pray go away : — There is plenty of air In 
 the streets, ma'am. 
 
 Har Scoundrel ! Your impertinence is insupport- 
 able. Open these doors ; I insist upon their being 
 opened. 
 
 [He thrusts at a Door in the Centre of the Stage; 
 it opens and discovers SiR Robee,t and Mr . 
 Placid at a table, surrounded by a Company 
 of Gentlemen. 
 
 SirR. A song — a song— another song [Miss 
 
 "Woo^VK^, all astonishment, is supported by Mr. Har- 
 mony and Mrs. Placid — The I^oktkr runs off.^ 
 Ah, what do I see! — Women ! — Ladies ! — Celes- 
 tial beings we were talking of. — Can this be real I 
 [Sir Robert and Mr. Placid come for^ivardSiK 
 "Robert, perceiving it is Miss Wooburn, turns him- 
 self to the Company.'] Gentlemen, gentlemen, married 
 men and single men, hear me thus publicly renounce 
 every woman on earth but this : and swear hencefor- 
 ward to be devoted to none but my own wife. 
 
 [Goes to her in Raptwes* 
 
Act v.] HAS HIS FAULT. T5 
 
 Plac. [L,ooki7igat Mrs. Placid, then turning to the 
 Company.] Gentlemen, gentlemen, married men and 
 single men, hear me thus publicly declare, I will 
 henceforth be master ; and from this time forward, 
 will be obeyed by my wife. 
 
 [Sir Robert ^aves his Hand, and the Door ii 
 closed on the Company of Gentlemen. 
 
 Mrs. P. Mr. Placid— Mr. Placid, are you not 
 afraid ? 
 
 Plac. No, madam, I have consulted my friends,^! 
 have drank two bottles of wine, and I never intend 
 to be afraid again. 
 
 Miss W [To Sir Robert ] Can it be, that I see 
 you without a wound ? 
 
 Sir R. No, my life, that you do not; For I have 
 a wound through my heart, which none but you can 
 cure. But, in despair of your aid, I have flown to 
 wine, to give me a temporary relief by the loss of re- 
 flection. 
 
 , Mrs. P. Mr. Placid, you will be sober in the mor- 
 ning. 
 
 Plac. Yes, my dear ; and I will take care that you 
 shall be dutiful in the morning. 
 
 Har. For shame ! how can you treat Mrs. Placid 
 thus ; you would not, if you knew what kind things 
 she has been saying of you : and how anxious she 
 was, when I told her you were wounded in a duel. 
 
 Mrs. P. Was not I, Mr. Harmony ? 
 
 [Bur-^ ting into Tears. 
 
 Plac. [Aside to Harmony and Sir Robert.] I 
 did not know she could cry ; — I never saw it before, 
 and it has made me sober in an instant. 
 
 Miss JV. Mr. Placid, I rely on you to conduct me 
 immediately from this house. 
 
 Sir R. That I protest against : and will use even 
 violent measures to prevent him. 
 
 Enter a Servant, 
 Serv. Lord Norland; 
 
76 EVERY ONE [Inchbald. 
 
 Enter Lord Norland. 
 
 Miss W. He will protect me. 
 
 Sir R. Who shall protect you in my house but I ? 
 My lord, she is under my protection ; and if you 
 offer to take her from me, I'll exert the authority of 
 a husband, and lock her up. 
 
 "LordN. [7b Miss Wooburn.] Have you been 
 deluded hither, and wish to leave the place with me? 
 Tell me instantly, that*I may know how to act. 
 
 Miss W, My lord, I am ready to go with you, 
 bnt 
 
 Har. But you find she is inclined to stay ; — and 
 do have some compassion upon two people, that 
 are so fond of you. 
 Enter Mr. Solus, dressed in a Suit of<white Clothes* 
 
 Sol. I am married! — I am married! — Wish me 
 joy ! I am married I 
 
 S/r R. I cannot give you joy, for envy. 
 
 Sol. Nay, I do not know whether you will envy 
 me much when you see my spouse — I cannot say she 
 was exactly my choice. However, she is my wife 
 row ; and that is a name so endearing, that I think I 
 love her better since the ceremony has been perform- 
 ed. 
 
 Mts. P. And pray when did it take place ? 
 
 Sol. This moment. We are now returning from 
 a friend's house, where we have been joined by a spe« 
 cial licence ; and I felt myself so happy, I could not 
 pass Sir Robert's door without calling to tell him of 
 my good fortune. And, as I see your lady here. Sir 
 Robert, I guess you are just married too ; and so I'll 
 hand my wife out of the carriage, and introduce the 
 two brides to each other. [Exit Solus. 
 
 Sir R. You see, my lord, what construction Mr. 
 Solus has put on Miss Wooburn's visit to me j and 
 by Heaven, if you take her away, it will be said; 
 that she came and offered herself to me, and that I 
 rejected her ! 
 
 Miss W. Such a report would kill me. 
 
Act r.] HAS HIS FAULT. V7 
 
 Enter SoLvs, leading on Miss Spinster. 
 
 Sol Mistress Solus. [Introducing her, 
 
 Har. [Starting.] My relation ! Dear madam, by 
 what strange turn of fortune do I see you become a 
 wife ? 
 
 Mrs. S. Mr. Harmony, it is a weakness, I acknow- 
 ledge : but you can never want an excu^e for me, 
 when you call to mind the scarcity of provisions. 
 
 Sol. Mr. Harmony, I have loved her ever since you 
 told me she spoke so well of me behind my back. 
 En ter Servant, and ^vhispers Mr. Harmony, qvho 
 follo^vs him off. 
 
 Lord N. i agree with you, Mr. Solus, that this is 
 a most excellent proof of a person's disposition ; and 
 in consideration, Sir Robert, that throughout all our 
 many disagreements, you have still preserved a re- 
 spect for my character in my absence, I do at last 
 say to that lady, she has my consent to trust you 
 again. 
 
 Sir R, And she luill trust me : I see it in her 
 smiles. Oh ! unexpected ecstacy ! 
 Enter Mr. Harmony. 
 
 Har, [Holding a 'Letter in his Hand ] Amidst the 
 bright prospects of joy, which this company are 
 contemplating, I come to announce an event that 
 ought to cloud the splendour of the horizon — A 
 worthy, but an ill-fated, man, whom you are all ac- 
 quainted with, has just breathed his last. 
 
 Lord N. Do you mean the husband of my daugh*- 
 ter ? 
 
 So/. Do you mean my nephew ? 
 
 Plac. Is it my friend i 
 
 Sir R. And my old acquaintance I 
 
 Har. Did Mr. Irwin possess all those titles you 
 have given him, gentlemen ? Was he your son ? [To 
 Lord Norland] Your nephew ? [To Solus.] 
 Your friend I [To Mr. Placid,] And your old ac- 
 quaintance ? [To Sir Robert.] How strange, he did 
 not know it ! 
 
 G2 
 
78 EVERY ONE {Inchbald. 
 
 Plac. He did know it. 
 
 Har. Still more strange, that he should die for 
 want, and not apply to any of you ? 
 
 SqL What ! Die for want in London ! Starve in 
 the midst of plenty ! 
 
 Har. No ; but he seized that plenty, where law, 
 where honour, where every social and religious tie 
 forbade the trespass ; and, in punishment of the 
 guilt, has become his own executioner. 
 
 Lord N. Then my daughter is wretched, and her 
 boy involved in his father's infamy. 
 
 SoU The fear of his ghost haunting me, will dis- 
 turb the joys of my married life. 
 
 Plac, Mrs. Placid, Mrs. Placid, my complying 
 with your injunctions, in respect of Mr. Irwin, will 
 make me miserable for ever. 
 
 Miss W. I wish he had applied to me. 
 
 Sir R. And, as I refused him his request, I would 
 give half my estate, that he had not applied to me. 
 
 Har. And a man who always spoke so well of 
 you all behind your backs I — I dare say that, in his 
 dying moments, there was not one of you whom he 
 did not praise for some virtue. 
 
 So/. No, no — when he was dying, he would be 
 more careful of what he said. 
 
 Lord N. Sir Robert good day. Settle your mar- 
 riage as you and your lady shall approve ; you 
 have my good wishes. But my spirits have received 
 too great a shock, to be capable of any other impres- 
 sion at present. 
 
 Miss W. [Holding him.] Nay, stay, my lord. 
 
 Sol. And, Mrs. Solus, let me hand you into your 
 carriage, to your company ; but excuse my going 
 home with you. My spirits have received to great 
 a shock, to be capable of any other impression at 
 present. 
 
 Har. [S/o/'/'zw^ Solus.] Now, so loth am I to see 
 any of you, only for a moment, in grief, while I have 
 the power to relieve you, that I cannot help — Yes, 
 my philanthropy will get thebetterof my justice. 
 
Act F.] HAS HIS FAULT. 79 
 
 [Goes to the Boor, and leads in Lady 
 Eleanor, Irwin, aud Edward. 
 
 Lord N. [Huns to Irwin, and embraces bhn,] My 
 son ! [Irwin /^//j on hh Knees.} I take a share in all 
 your offences — The wor^^t of accomplices, while I 
 impelled you to them. 
 
 /ray. [On his knees.] I come to offer my returning 
 reason : to offer my vows, that while that reason 
 continues, so long will I be penitent for the phrensy 
 which put your life in dan^rer. 
 
 Lady E. [Moiling timid ly to her Father, leading 
 Edward 4;' A^^ H<rtW.] T come to offer you this 
 child, this affectionate child ; who, in the midst of 
 our caresses, droops his head, and pines for your for- 
 giveness. 
 
 Lord N. Ah ! there is a corner of my heart left to 
 receive him. [Embraces him. 
 
 Edw. Then, pray my lord, suffer the corner to be 
 large enough to hold my mother too. 
 
 Lord N My heart i^ softened, and receives you 
 all. [Embraces Lady Eli: an or, ^<.vho falls on her 
 Knees ; he then turns to Harmony.] Mr. Harmony, 
 I thank you, I most sincerely thank you, for this, the 
 most joyful moment of my life. I not only experi- 
 ence release from mirery, but return to happiness. 
 
 Har- [Goes tastily to Solus, and leads him to Ir- 
 win : then turns toMK.and Mrs. Placid.] And 
 now, that I see all you reconciled, I can say — there 
 are not two enemies, in the whole circle of my ac- 
 quaintance, that I have not, within these three days, 
 made friends. 
 
 Sir R. Very true, Harmony : for we should never 
 have known half how well we all love one another, 
 if you had not told us. 
 
 Har. And yet, my good friends, notwithstanding 
 the merit you may attribute to me, I have one most 
 tremendous fault ; and it weighs so heavy on my 
 conscience, f would confess what it i--, but that you 
 might her eafter call my veracity in que-tion. 
 
80 EVERY ONE HAS HIS FAULT. {Inchbald. 
 
 Sir R. My dear Harmony, without a fault, you 
 would not be a proper companion for any of us. 
 
 Lord N. And whilst a man like you, may have 
 (among so many virtues) some faults ; let us hope 
 there may be found in each of us (among all our 
 faults) some virtues. 
 
 Har, Yes, my lord, — and; notwithstanding our nu- 
 merous faults, it is my sincere wish, that the world 
 may speak well of us aJl — behind our backs. 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 BY M. P. ANDREWS, ESQ, 
 
 « EACH has his fault," we readily allow, 
 To this Decree, our dearest friends must bow ; 
 One is too careless, one is to correct, 
 All, save our own sweet self, has some defect ; 
 And characters to ev'ry virtue dear. 
 Sink from a hint, or suffer by a sneer. 
 
 « Sir Harry Blink ! Oh, he's a worthy man, 
 ** Anxious to do the upmost good he can ; 
 ** To aid distress, Vv'ou'd share his last poor guinea, 
 " Delights in kindness — but then, what a ninny !'* 
 
 Lady Doll Primrose says to Lady Sly, 
 ** You know Miss Tidlikins i Yes — looks awry — 
 ** She's gone to be married — that won't mend it ; — 
 " They say she'll have a fortune — and she'll spend it. 
 " I hope your La'aship visits Lady Hearty, 
 " We meet to-night— a most delightful party. 
 " I don't like Dowagers, who would be young, 
 " And 'twixt ourselves they say — She has a tongue." 
 
 If such the general blame that all await. 
 Say, can our Author 'scape the general fate ? 
 Some will dislike the saucy truths she ter,ches. 
 Fond Bachelors, and wives who wear the breeches. 
 
 *< Let me be wedded to a handsome youth," 
 Crie& old Miss Mumblelove, without a tooth. 
 " These worn-out Beaux, becau&e they've heavy 
 
 purses, 
 ** Expect us, spinsters, to become their nurses. 
 " To love, and be beloved 's the happy wife, 
 " A mutual passion is the charm of life." 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 " Marriage is Heaven's best gift we must believe it, 
 <* Yet some with weak ideas can't conceive it. — 
 «< Poor Lady Sobwells grief, the town wou'd stun ; 
 ** Go, Tiffany ! Your mistress is undone. 
 " Dear Ma'am — I hope my Lord is well — don't cry— 
 « Hav'n't I cause ? — The monster will not die — 
 ** The reason why I married him, is clear, 
 " I fondly thought he cou'd not live a year : 
 « But now his dropsy's better, and his cough — 
 ** Not the least chance for that to take him off. 
 « I, that could have young husbands now in plenty, 
 ** I can't be a widow till I'm one and twenty — 
 " No lovely weeds — No sweet dishevelled hair — 
 <* Oh ! I cou'd cry my eyes out in despaHr." 
 
 Sobbing and crying. 
 
 Sir Tirstram Testy, worn with age and gout ; 
 Within, all spleen, and flannel all without ; 
 Roars from his elbow chair, " Reach me my crutches, 
 " Oh 1 if Death had my wife within his clutches, 
 ** With what delight her funeral meats I'd gobble, 
 <* And tho', not dance upon her grave, I'd hobble ; 
 « No longer then, my peace she could unhinge, 
 ** I should cut capers soor^^{tries to jump, and stumbles) 
 Zounds ! What a twinge !" 
 
 These playful pictures of discordant life, 
 We bring to combat discontent and strife. 
 And, by the force of contrast, sweetly prove 
 The charm that waits on fond and faithful love ; 
 When suited years, and pliant tempers join, 
 And the heart glows with energy divine. 
 As the lov'd offspring of the happy pair 
 Oft climb the knee, the envied kiss to share. 
 
X BPILOGUE. 
 
 Such joy, this happy country long has known. 
 Reared in the Cot, reflected from the Throne ; 
 Oh ! may the glorious zeal, the loyal stand 
 Which nobly animate this envied land, 
 Secure to every breast, with glad increase. 
 The heartfelt blessings of domestic peace ! 
 
 FINIS. 
 
lRB ^ 1b 
 
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 Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
 Treatment Date; March 2009 
 
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