Our American Cousin [8]
A beggar, Sir Edward Trenchard a beggar, see my children reduced to labor for their bread, to misery perhaps; but the alternative, Florence detests him, still the match would save her, at least, from ruin. He might take the family name, I might retrench, retire, to the continent for a few years. Florence's health might serve as a pretence. Repugnant as the alternative is, yet it deserves consideration.
Coyle [Who has watched.] Now, Sir Edward, shall I ring for the servants to kick me out?
Sir E Nay Mr. Coyle, you must pardon my outburst, you know I am hasty, and----
Flo [Without.] Papa, dear! [Enters gaily, starts on seeing Coyle.] Papa, pardon my breaking in on business, but our American cousin has come, such an original--and we are only waiting for you to escort us to the field.
Sir E I will come directly, my love. Mr. Coyle, my dear, you did not see him.
Flo [Disdainfully.] Oh! yes, I saw him, papa.
Sir E Nay, Florence, your hand to Mr. Coyle. [Aside.] I insist.
Flo Papa. [Frightened at his look, gives her hand. Coyle attempts to kiss it, she snatches it away and crosses to L.]
Sir E [Crosses to L.] Come, Florence. Mr. Coyle, we will join you in the park. Come, my love, take my arm. [Hurries her off, L. 1 E.]
Coyle Shallow, selfish fool. She warned you of me did she? And you did not heed her; you shall both pay dearly. She, for her suspicions, and you that you did not share them. [Walks up and down.] How lucky the seals were not cut from that mortgage, when the release was given. 'Tis like the silly security of the Trenchard's. This mortgage makes Ravensdale mine, while the release that restores it to its owner lies in the recess of the bureau, whose secret my father revealed to me on his death bed. [Enter Murcott, L. 1 E.] Write to the mortgagee of the Fanhill and Ellenthrope estates, to foreclose before the week is out, and tell Walters and Brass to put in execution to-day. We'll prick this wind-bag of a Baronet. Abel, we have both a bone to pick with him and his daughter. [Murcott starts.] Why, what's the matter?
Mur Nothing, the dizziness I've had lately.
Coyle Brandy in the evening, brandy in the morning, brandy all night. What a fool you are, Murcott.
Mur Who knows that as well as I do?
Coyle If you would but keep the money out of your mouth, there's the making of a man in you yet.
Mur No, no, it's gone too far, it's gone too far, thanks to the man who owns this house, you know all about it. How he found me a thriving, sober lad, flogging the village children through their spelling book. How he took a fancy to me as he called it, and employed me here to teach his son and Miss Florence. [His voice falters.] Then remember how I forgot who and what I was, and was cuffed out of the house like a dog. How I lost my school, my good name, but still hung about the place, they all looked askance at me, you don't know how that kills the heart of a man, then I took to drink and sank down, down, till I came to this.
Coyle You owe Sir Edward revenge, do you not? You shall have a rare revenge on him, that mortgage you found last week puts the remainder of the property in my reach, and I close my hand on it unless he will consent to my terms.
Mur You can drive a hard bargain. I know.
Coyle And a rare price I ask for his forbearance, Abel--his daughter's hand.
Mur Florence?
Coyle Yes, Florence marries Richard Coyle. Richard Coyle steps into Sir Edward's estates. There, you dog, will not that be a rare revenge. So follow me with those papers. [Crosses to L.] And now to lay the mine that will topple over the pride of the Trenchards. [Exit L. 1 E.]
Mur He marry Florence! Florence Trenchard! My Florence. Mine! Florence _his wife_. No, no, better a thousand times she had been mine, low as I am, when I dreampt that dream, but it shan't be, it shan't be. [Tremblingly putting papers in bag.] If I can help her, sot though I am. Yes, I can help her, if the shock don't break me down. Oh! my poor muddled brain, surely there
Coyle [Who has watched.] Now, Sir Edward, shall I ring for the servants to kick me out?
Sir E Nay Mr. Coyle, you must pardon my outburst, you know I am hasty, and----
Flo [Without.] Papa, dear! [Enters gaily, starts on seeing Coyle.] Papa, pardon my breaking in on business, but our American cousin has come, such an original--and we are only waiting for you to escort us to the field.
Sir E I will come directly, my love. Mr. Coyle, my dear, you did not see him.
Flo [Disdainfully.] Oh! yes, I saw him, papa.
Sir E Nay, Florence, your hand to Mr. Coyle. [Aside.] I insist.
Flo Papa. [Frightened at his look, gives her hand. Coyle attempts to kiss it, she snatches it away and crosses to L.]
Sir E [Crosses to L.] Come, Florence. Mr. Coyle, we will join you in the park. Come, my love, take my arm. [Hurries her off, L. 1 E.]
Coyle Shallow, selfish fool. She warned you of me did she? And you did not heed her; you shall both pay dearly. She, for her suspicions, and you that you did not share them. [Walks up and down.] How lucky the seals were not cut from that mortgage, when the release was given. 'Tis like the silly security of the Trenchard's. This mortgage makes Ravensdale mine, while the release that restores it to its owner lies in the recess of the bureau, whose secret my father revealed to me on his death bed. [Enter Murcott, L. 1 E.] Write to the mortgagee of the Fanhill and Ellenthrope estates, to foreclose before the week is out, and tell Walters and Brass to put in execution to-day. We'll prick this wind-bag of a Baronet. Abel, we have both a bone to pick with him and his daughter. [Murcott starts.] Why, what's the matter?
Mur Nothing, the dizziness I've had lately.
Coyle Brandy in the evening, brandy in the morning, brandy all night. What a fool you are, Murcott.
Mur Who knows that as well as I do?
Coyle If you would but keep the money out of your mouth, there's the making of a man in you yet.
Mur No, no, it's gone too far, it's gone too far, thanks to the man who owns this house, you know all about it. How he found me a thriving, sober lad, flogging the village children through their spelling book. How he took a fancy to me as he called it, and employed me here to teach his son and Miss Florence. [His voice falters.] Then remember how I forgot who and what I was, and was cuffed out of the house like a dog. How I lost my school, my good name, but still hung about the place, they all looked askance at me, you don't know how that kills the heart of a man, then I took to drink and sank down, down, till I came to this.
Coyle You owe Sir Edward revenge, do you not? You shall have a rare revenge on him, that mortgage you found last week puts the remainder of the property in my reach, and I close my hand on it unless he will consent to my terms.
Mur You can drive a hard bargain. I know.
Coyle And a rare price I ask for his forbearance, Abel--his daughter's hand.
Mur Florence?
Coyle Yes, Florence marries Richard Coyle. Richard Coyle steps into Sir Edward's estates. There, you dog, will not that be a rare revenge. So follow me with those papers. [Crosses to L.] And now to lay the mine that will topple over the pride of the Trenchards. [Exit L. 1 E.]
Mur He marry Florence! Florence Trenchard! My Florence. Mine! Florence _his wife_. No, no, better a thousand times she had been mine, low as I am, when I dreampt that dream, but it shan't be, it shan't be. [Tremblingly putting papers in bag.] If I can help her, sot though I am. Yes, I can help her, if the shock don't break me down. Oh! my poor muddled brain, surely there