plays [47]
is myself I pity. I offer you not love - I am not worthy. I
ask, I beseech of you: suffer me to wait upon you like a
servant, to serve you with my rank, my name, the whole devotion
of my life. I am a gentleman - ay, in spite of my fault - an
upright gentleman; and I swear to you that you shall order your
life and mine at your free will. Dorothy, at your feet, in
remorse, in respect, in love - O such love as I have never felt,
such love as I derided - I implore, I conjure you to be mine!
DOROTHY. Too late! too late.
AUSTIN. No, no, not too late: not too late for penitence, not
too late for love.
DOROTHY. Which do you propose? that I should abuse your
compassion, or reward your treachery? George Austin, I have been
your mistress, and I will never be your wife.
AUSTIN. Child, dear child, I have not told you all: there is
worse still: your brother knows; the boy as good as told me.
Dorothy, this is scandal at the door - O let that move you: for
that, if not for my sake, for that, if not for love, trust me,
trust me again.
DOROTHY. I am so much the more your victim: that is all, and
shall that change my heart? The sin must have its wages. This,
too, was done long ago: when you stooped to lie to me. The
shame is still mine, the fault still yours.
AUSTIN. Child, child, you kill me: you will not understand.
Can you not see? the lad will force me to a duel.
DOROTHY. And you will kill him? Shame after shame, threat upon
threat. Marry me, or you are dishonoured; marry me, or your
brother dies: and this is man's honour! But my honour and my
pride are different. I will encounter all misfortune sooner than
degrade myself by an unfaithful marriage. How should I kneel
before the altar, and vow to reverence as my husband you, you who
deceived me as my lover?
AUSTIN. Dorothy, you misjudge me cruelly; I have deserved it.
You will not take me for your husband; why should I wonder? You
are right. I have indeed filled your life with calamity: the
wages, ay, the wages, of my sin are heavy upon you. But I have
one more thing to ask of your pity; and O remember, child, who it
is that asks it: a man guilty in your sight, void of excuse, but
old, and very proud, and most unused to supplication. Dorothy
Musgrave, will you forgive George Austin?
DOROTHY. O, George!
AUSTIN. It is the old name: that is all I ask, and more than I
deserve. I shall remember, often remember, how and where it was
bestowed upon me for the last time. I thank you, Dorothy, from
my heart; a heart, child, that has been too long silent, but is
not too old, I thank God! not yet too old, to learn a lesson and
to accept a reproof. I will not keep you longer: I will go - I
am so bankrupt in credit that I dare not ask you to believe in
how much sorrow. But, Dorothy, my acts will speak for me with
more persuasion. If it be in my power, you shall suffer no more
through me: I will avoid your brother; I will leave this place,
I will leave England, to-morrow; you shall be no longer tortured
with the neighbourhood of your ungenerous lover. Dorothy,
farewell!
SCENE VIII
DOROTHY; TO WHOM, ANTHONY, L.
DOROTHY (ON HER KNEES, AND REACHING WITH HER HANDS.) George,
George! (ENTER ANTHONY.)
ANTHONY. Ha! what are you crying for?
DOROTHY. Nothing, dear! (RISING.)
ANTHONY. Is Austin going to marry you?
DOROTHY. I shall never marry.
ANTHONY. I thought as much. You should have come to me.
DOROTHY. I know, dear, I know; but there was nothing to come
about.
ANTHONY. It's a lie. You have disgraced the family. You went
to John Fenwick: see what he has made of it! But I will have
you righted: it shall be atoned in the man's blood.
DOROTHY. Anthony! And if I had refused him?
ANTHONY. You? refuse George Austin? You never had the chance.
DOROTHY. I have refused him.
ANTHONY. Dorothy, you lie. You would shield your lover; but
this concerns not you only: it strikes my honour and my father's
honour.
DOROTHY.
ask, I beseech of you: suffer me to wait upon you like a
servant, to serve you with my rank, my name, the whole devotion
of my life. I am a gentleman - ay, in spite of my fault - an
upright gentleman; and I swear to you that you shall order your
life and mine at your free will. Dorothy, at your feet, in
remorse, in respect, in love - O such love as I have never felt,
such love as I derided - I implore, I conjure you to be mine!
DOROTHY. Too late! too late.
AUSTIN. No, no, not too late: not too late for penitence, not
too late for love.
DOROTHY. Which do you propose? that I should abuse your
compassion, or reward your treachery? George Austin, I have been
your mistress, and I will never be your wife.
AUSTIN. Child, dear child, I have not told you all: there is
worse still: your brother knows; the boy as good as told me.
Dorothy, this is scandal at the door - O let that move you: for
that, if not for my sake, for that, if not for love, trust me,
trust me again.
DOROTHY. I am so much the more your victim: that is all, and
shall that change my heart? The sin must have its wages. This,
too, was done long ago: when you stooped to lie to me. The
shame is still mine, the fault still yours.
AUSTIN. Child, child, you kill me: you will not understand.
Can you not see? the lad will force me to a duel.
DOROTHY. And you will kill him? Shame after shame, threat upon
threat. Marry me, or you are dishonoured; marry me, or your
brother dies: and this is man's honour! But my honour and my
pride are different. I will encounter all misfortune sooner than
degrade myself by an unfaithful marriage. How should I kneel
before the altar, and vow to reverence as my husband you, you who
deceived me as my lover?
AUSTIN. Dorothy, you misjudge me cruelly; I have deserved it.
You will not take me for your husband; why should I wonder? You
are right. I have indeed filled your life with calamity: the
wages, ay, the wages, of my sin are heavy upon you. But I have
one more thing to ask of your pity; and O remember, child, who it
is that asks it: a man guilty in your sight, void of excuse, but
old, and very proud, and most unused to supplication. Dorothy
Musgrave, will you forgive George Austin?
DOROTHY. O, George!
AUSTIN. It is the old name: that is all I ask, and more than I
deserve. I shall remember, often remember, how and where it was
bestowed upon me for the last time. I thank you, Dorothy, from
my heart; a heart, child, that has been too long silent, but is
not too old, I thank God! not yet too old, to learn a lesson and
to accept a reproof. I will not keep you longer: I will go - I
am so bankrupt in credit that I dare not ask you to believe in
how much sorrow. But, Dorothy, my acts will speak for me with
more persuasion. If it be in my power, you shall suffer no more
through me: I will avoid your brother; I will leave this place,
I will leave England, to-morrow; you shall be no longer tortured
with the neighbourhood of your ungenerous lover. Dorothy,
farewell!
SCENE VIII
DOROTHY; TO WHOM, ANTHONY, L.
DOROTHY (ON HER KNEES, AND REACHING WITH HER HANDS.) George,
George! (ENTER ANTHONY.)
ANTHONY. Ha! what are you crying for?
DOROTHY. Nothing, dear! (RISING.)
ANTHONY. Is Austin going to marry you?
DOROTHY. I shall never marry.
ANTHONY. I thought as much. You should have come to me.
DOROTHY. I know, dear, I know; but there was nothing to come
about.
ANTHONY. It's a lie. You have disgraced the family. You went
to John Fenwick: see what he has made of it! But I will have
you righted: it shall be atoned in the man's blood.
DOROTHY. Anthony! And if I had refused him?
ANTHONY. You? refuse George Austin? You never had the chance.
DOROTHY. I have refused him.
ANTHONY. Dorothy, you lie. You would shield your lover; but
this concerns not you only: it strikes my honour and my father's
honour.
DOROTHY.