A Lady of England: The Life and Letters of Charlotte Maria Tucker. Agnes Giberne
[Aside.] If he should fire!
O’Shan. [Aside.] If he should fight! My poor Mother; och, if she could see me now, ’twould pit her into high-strikes. Is no one coming to help me?
Charles. [Aside.] If I could but touch his kinder feelings! I have been accustomed to steal hearts, but I fear that I should find his steeled already. I must make one more effort to steal past him. But the sight of his matchlock makes my blood run cold.
O’Shan. Och! he’s coming nearer. O for pity’s sake …
Charles. If mercy ever touched your bosom …
Enter Corporal Catchup.
O’Shan. Catch him! catch him! ’tis he, the Pretender! catch him, Corporal! collar him! never fear!
Corp. Who? the old woman?
O’Shan. Catch him, I say, and never be frightened for him, man. I found him out.
Charles. So—all is lost.
Corp. A man in disguise! it must be he. Bind him, O’Shannon. This is a prize indeed.
O’Shan. Ah, poor gintleman, your troubles will soon be pit an end to. Ah! ye may well sigh, for no man laughs on his way to the gallows.
Charles. The gallows! is it possible that so inhuman a murder can be contemplated?
O’Shan. O ye may be satisfied of it! There’s only one thing that’s doubtful, I’m thinking.
Charles. What’s that?
O’Shan. Whether they’ll stick your head on the Lord Mayor’s mace before or after they’ve hung you!
Charles. O horrible, horrible, most horrible! It cannot, O it cannot be! What a dreadful, what a fearful fate! O that the first step I took from my Father’s home had been into a horse-pond! that I had died e’er I left it!
O’Shan. Ay, there’s the pity! Had ye stayed peaceably at home, this would never have happened to ye.
Charles. The gallows! can it be?
O’Shan. Ah, how all the Ladies will pity ye! such a likely lad, and so young, and …
Charles. Silence! you distract me.
O’Shan. Poor gintleman! when it comes to the pinch, when the rope …
Corp. No more, O’Shannon! You have secured his arms. Bring him speedily along with you. No delay!
Charles. My limbs can scarcely support me! O day of agony, of misery, and despair! [Exeunt.]
SCENE VI.
THE PARLOUR.
Colonel Stumply.
Col. [Rubbing his hands.] Caught! caught! This is indeed a good day’s work.
Enter Sophia, Barbara, and Horatia.
Col. Ah! ha! my pretty Jacobites, this comes of your plotting. The Pretender is in safe hands now. Who would have thought you up to such a conspiracy?
Horatia. Alas, our unhappy Prince!
Sophia. [Aside to Horatia.] Poor Daresby! It makes my heart faint to think of him. I cannot stay to look on.
Horatia. You must stay to keep him silent. ’Tis but for an hour. I am ashamed of you. Remember that you have a part to perform.
Sophy. I cannot say what is not true.
Horatia. Say nothing, then.
Enter Daresby guarded.
Daresby. [To the Col.] Sir, I demand an explanation of this most extraordinary and unjustifiable treatment. Sir, I am a gentleman and … [Horatia makes earnest signs to him to be silent.]
Col. You shall be treated, Sir, with all the respect due to your station, consistent with your safe custody.
Daresby. Of what am I charged? Who is my accuser? what wretch dares? [Horatia repeats the signs.] What is the meaning of all this nonsense? Do you wish to make a fool of me? I’ll not endure this …
Col. Be calm, Sir, and submit to destiny.
Daresby. I’ll not submit to such treatment. My name is …
[Horatia in an agony throws herself at his feet, exclaiming] O noble man! for the sake of all you love. …
Daresby. Horatia, I am in a dream. Sophy, of you I ask, I entreat, an explanation. Why am I thus confined? Why do you stand calmly looking on my disgrace?
Sophy. Calmly! O Da … [Aside.] I cannot restrain my tears.
Daresby. Are you too my enemy?
Sophy. Your enemy! O!
Daresby. [To the Colonel.] Are my political opinions suspected? Am I supposed to be a Ja. …
Horatia. You are known—you are known—to be—to be—to be … [Enter Weasel.]
Horatia. [Springing to Sophia’s side.] O Sophy, for pity’s sake take that creature off, or. …
Sophy. Weasel, Weasel! [Aside.] What can I say?
Weasel. What! Dr. Da. …
Sophia. Weasel, Weasel, will you go directly to the garden and fetch. …
Weasel. What, Miss?
Sophia. Fetch, fetch—some spinach.
Weasel. Spinach don’t grow in November, Miss, as Dr. …
Horatia. Go to the village directly for. …
Weasel. Can’t go to the village no more, Miss, till I’ve laid the cloth for breakfast. The Doc. …
Horatia. We must have wine. Go to the cellar.
Weasel. Haven’t got the keys, Miss. If I might make bold to ask why. …
Horatia. Begone this instant … we shall want poultry. Wring every chicken’s neck in the yard, or I’ll wring yours as sure as I stand here! [Exit Weasel.]
Col. What an extraordinary temper!
Daresby. Sophy, Sophy, if you are still the ingenuous being I ever believed you to be, tell me in what farce I am thus forced to act a part against my will. Tell me the secret of the conspiracy which seems formed against me. Are you an accessory?
Col. Why, the Ladies have been turning every stone in your defence! They never let out the secret! As far as they were concerned you might have remained in your vault until you were old enough to stay there altogether!
Daresby. Every sentence that I hear bewilders me yet more. Ratty Rattleton, Ratty Rattleton, you are at the bottom of the plot.
Enter Mrs. Judith.
Horatia. [Aside.] Aunt Judy! this is distraction!
Mrs. Jud. Young Daresby, my. …
Horatia. Aunt, Aunt. …
Mrs. Jud. What’s the matter?
Horatia. The … [aside] at last I seem come to my wits end! [Aloud.] The. …
Daresby. Mrs. Judith Rattleton, you are my friend, you will bear witness. …
Horatia. The most important. …
Sophia. O dear Aunt. …
Barbara. If you would only hold your tongue!
Mrs. Jud. What a racket! what … why. …
Daresby. Mrs. Judith, I am here charged with. …
Mrs. Jud. You,