The Female Gamester: A Tragedy Part 10

Mrs. ANDREWS. [Aside.] How I dread these visits! Besides, of late, He hath been more particular than usual; So that it hath become the general notice.

[To the Servant.] Withdraw awhile. [To MARIA.] I will not be at home.

MARIA. What, not to him?

That gallant, gen'rous n.o.bleman! your friend!

Mrs. ANDREWS. A creditor for more than I can pay.

MARIA. Bless us! where are your boasted gains of late, And where the sum you just receiv'd from Jefferson?

Mrs. ANDREWS. Of late, I have miss'd notes for several sums.

Mar. I doubt she suspects me. [Aside.] Madam, 'tis like, You've lent them to some friends?

Mrs. ANDREWS. Of this again.

Have you yet rais'd the money on my jewels?

MARIA. The broker thinks the pledge is not sufficient.

Mrs. ANDREWS. For three thousand! they cost that sum twice told.

MARIA. He'll not lend more than two.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I must submit.

[Aside.] Shameful return this to the gen'rous donor!

Part was his present on our bridal day, And part the day, he bore the city's honours.

He thought he never could enough adorn me.

MARIA. But we forget--his lords.h.i.+p waits admission.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I cannot see him,--yet, shou'd I refuse it, As my curs'd stars have destin'd me his debtor, He may, perhaps, conceive, it want of honour.

MARIA. He scorns such thoughts; ev'n in his younger days, as in his mien, so in all n.o.ble deeds, Fair rumour tells, he was surpa.s.s'd by none.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Say, is your master in the house?

MARIA. No, madam.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Well then, this once.--How I abhor myself!

[MARIA goes off.]

Enter Lord BELMOUR.

Lord BELMOUR. How does my charming creditor this morning?

Mrs. ANDREWS. Your debtor, I suppose you mean, my lord?

Lord BELMOUR. Thou never was't my debtor. I'm thy slave; And in the pleasing chains would live for ever.

To view that lovely form! those radiant eyes, And listen to the language of those lips!

What sum can be a recompense for these O! that such matchless, such resistless beauty, Shou'd be condemn'd to the cold arms of age Or one of vulgar breed!--'tis--Oh! it is--

Mrs. ANDREWS. I know not what you mean. You talk in mystery.

[He attempts to take her hand, at which she seems very uneasy, withdrawing it.]

My lord, I must beseech you to desist, Or I must hence retire.

Lord BELMOUR. But hear me first.

This is a free discharge of all demands. [Produces a paper]

This other writing binds me, as your debtor, In two thousand. [Produces another paper]

Mrs. ANDREWS. I see his base designs.

He seeks to take advantage of my wants. [Aside]

I need no further proofs of your intentions.

I have already heard too much. [She walks to and fro much disorder'd.]

Lord BELMOUR. Too much!

'Tis strange! what have you heard? that I do love, Admire, adore you, O! beyond all utterance; But why conceive, that I intend you injury?

Were my possessions as the globe extensive, You might command the whole, as you may him, Who lives, or dies, as you shall smile, or frown.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Into what mischiefs do you mean to plunge me?

Or wherefore do you dare insult me thus?

Is it because I'm wedded to a citizen, (Forgetting that I am of your own kindred) That you these liberties presume? Know, sir, That through the world, an honest British trader Esteem and honour meets. But, were I lower Than vanity directs you to conceive me, And you of the first rank; where freedom reigns, You have no right to offer me such insult.

Lord BELMOUR. Talk not of rank to one who loves as I do; The pride of kings beneath those eyes might languish, And prostrate thus, and trembling wait their sentence. [He falls on his knees, seizes her hand, which she forces from him.]

Mrs. ANDREWS. What have you seen in my deportment, sir, To warrant this intrusion? 'tis unworthy.

Lord BELMOUR. Will you not then vouchsafe one glance of pity?

Is there no ray of hope; no room for pardon?

O, inexorable!

Mrs. ANDREWS. Protect me, heav'n! [Aside]

Sir, at your peril, speak to me again.

Lord BELMOUR. Teach, teach me first, how this devoted heart, Shall gain its freedom, or forget its fondness.

That voice conveys such rapture to my soul, That I would hear it, though 'twere sure perdition.

Mrs. ANDREWS. These hackney'd phrases, use to those they suit To me, they are acc.u.mulated insults. [He rises.]

Lord BELMOUR. Forego such thoughts; I, nothing meant but honour.

My wife and I, having resolv'd to sunder, (For without love we met, and so have liv'd,) Hope ev'ry moment our divorce for ever; When both may wed again, as each best likes; A practice now full easily accomplish'd.

Then, that your husband's fate is near its period, 'Tis said, some recent symptoms have p.r.o.nounc'd Wherefore, it soon may be my happy lot, To make thee partner of my rank and fortune, As thou'rt already empress of my heart.

--Accept then, I beseech thee, these small tokens.

[He gives her the papers, which she, in great confusion, insensibly takes.]

And now with that sweet breath, surpa.s.sing far The spicy perfume of the budding rose, p.r.o.nounce the sentence of my life, or death.

Mrs. ANDREWS. To what an abject state am I reduc'd!

The time has been, I'd not have heard a king Discourse me thus. [Aside.]--I charge you, sir, desist.

Lord BELMOUR. I find 'tis vain to press my suit at present, An humour this, to which 'twere better yield.