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_Capt. Eth._ As yours has mine. Now I trust they will cherish their inmates with delight. Farewell, my dearest Lucy; I hasten to my father, and I've an idea in my brain which may procure the completion of our wishes.
[_They embrace. Exit Captain Etheridge._
_Lucy._ G.o.d give me strength, and make me sufficiently grateful! This was so unexpected. O Edward! Edward! you have opened such a vista of delight through the dark clouds that surrounded me, that I tremble as I gaze. How dreadful will be this suspense! Now am I arrived at the crisis of my fate. Either I am blessed beyond all hope, and all desert--or else--I die. [_Exit._
_Scene IV._
_A room in the Hall. Enter William, showing in Peter Bargrove._
_Will._ Step in this room, Mr Peter, and I'll let my lady know that you are here. I say, Mr Peter, what can you want with my lady?
_Peter_ (_consequentially_). That cannot concern you, sir, I should think.
_Will._ What's the matter now? Why, you used to be civil and genteel. I say, I suppose you have found a mare's nest.
_Peter._ Don't be saucy, sir; go and deliver your message to my lady.
_Will._ And if it warn't for my own sake, I wouldn't now. [_Exit William._
_Peter._ We shall see some difference, I flatter myself, in their behaviour when they know who's who. How shall I address her? I never before dare speak to her, she is so haughty and proud. But she won't be so when she knows that I am her son. Pooh! I don't care for her now.
_Re-enter William._
_Will._ My lady desires you to wait in the servants' hall till she sends for you. This way.
_Peter._ Indeed, I will not--I'll wait here.
_Will._ O, very well--just as you please; but you'll take the consequences. Recollect, I have delivered my lady's message.
_Peter._ You have--and you may go.
_Will._ Well, I suspect you be got a cloth in the wind, Mr Peter. [_Exit William._
_Peter._ Means I'm drunk! Insolent fellow! I'll give him warning. I daresay my lady will be very angry till she knows the circ.u.mstances.
Then the sooner I let it out the better (_walks about_). What care I.
I'll be as brave as bra.s.s.
_Lady Eth._ (_without_). I'll be back directly.
_Peter_ (_fanning himself with his hat_). O lud! here she comes.
(_Recovering himself_). Who cares! Let her come.
_Enter Lady Etheridge._
_Lady Eth._ You here, sir! I desired you to wait in the servants' hall.
_Peter._ Yes, my lady, you did--but--but--that is not a fit place for me.
_Lady Eth._ I am sure this room is not. Well, sir--what do you want?
_Peter._ Lady Etheridge, I have most important intelligence to communicate.
_Lady Eth._ Well, sir, let me hear it.
_Peter._ Lady Etheridge, prepare yourself for most unthought-of news.
_Lady Eth._ Will you speak out, fool?
_Peter_ (_aside_). Fool! very maternal indeed. (_Aloud._) If I am a fool, Lady Etheridge, why, all the worse for you.
_Lady Eth._ How, sir?
_Peter._ Yes, my lady, I think you'll treat me with more respect very soon.
_Lady Eth._ I shall order the servants to show you the door very soon.
_Peter._ If you do, my lady, I sha'n't go out of it.
_Lady Eth._ Insolent fellow, leave the room directly.
_Peter._ No, can't, upon my honour. (_Aside._) How she'll beg my pardon for all this by-and-bye! It's really very pleasant. (_Aloud._) I come, my lady, to communicate most important intelligence, but I want to break it to you carefully, lest you should be too much overcome with joy.
Prepare yourself, my lady, for astounding news. You have a son!
_Lady Eth._ (_Aside._) The fellow's mad. (_Aloud._) Well, sir, what's that to you?
_Peter._ A great deal, my lady; you don't know him.
_Lady Eth._ What does the fool mean?
_Peter._ No, my lady, you don't know him. Him whom you suppose to be your son--is--not your son.
_Lady Eth._ (_Startled._) Indeed!
_Peter._ Yes, my lady, but your son is not far off.
_Lady Eth._ Are you deranged?
_Peter._ No; quite sensible--hear me out. Dame Bargrove nursed that son.
_Lady Eth._ Well, sir!
_Peter._ And, Lady Etheridge, we have proof positive, that the wicked woman changed him.
_Lady Eth._ (_screaming._) Changed him!
_Peter._ Yes, changed him for her own. Edward Etheridge is Edward Bargrove, and Peter Bargrove Peter Etheridge. My dear, dear mother!
(_Runs into her arms and kisses her repeatedly, notwithstanding her endeavours to prevent him._)
