Dramas (Baillie)/The Alienated Manor/Act 4

by Joanna Baillie

ACT IV.

SCENE I.—A Back Court, belonging to the House; Sancho discovered waiting by the Gate.

SANCHO.

Now, we see—we see. White man great deal of money—read book—know all tat be good. We see—we see. I wait long—O here he come!

Enter Dickenson.

Well, friend, what say your massa to my massa?

DICKENSON.

He has nothing to say to him at all. He is very angry with your massa.

SANCHO.

Very angry! Ay, my massa be poor, and every body be angry wit him.—Your massa not angry, your massa very fond of him when he shake a te dice, and take all te money from him. Te tevil will shake him over te great fire for tat.—You tell him, he be in prison; he be cold; he be hungry?

DICKENSON.

I told him every thing you desired me, but he has nothing to say to you. He is very angry, and wont see you.

SANCHO.

Angry! Wont see me! He shall see me. I watch him; I speak to him; I deal wit him. Angry! White man angry! Black man angry too. (Going.)

DICKENSON.

Stay a little: he sent this for yourself to pay your way back again to London. (Offering him money, which he scornfully casts away.)

SANCHO.

None for myself; me will beg my way back; me will take noting of him but his heart's blood, and tat I will take if I should give him mine own in return.—May his money choke him! May te white tevil tear him! May his moter curse him!—Angry! Sancho be angry too.

[Exit.

DICKENSON.

Poor creature! I pity him: but he'll beg his way back well enough. He has been used to it, no doubt, in his own country.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

An old dismal-looking Chamber.

Enter Mrs. Smoothly and Dolly by a concealed door in the pannelling of the walls, carrying lights, which they place on a table.

DOLLY.

What a dismal ghastly-looking place! It looks as like a chamber where some wicked thing has been done as any I ever see'd.

SMOOTHLY.

But no wicked thing has been done in this chamber, foolish creature! though a wicked man died here.

DOLLY.

Ay, no wonder he comes back again, since he was so wicked. I marvel you thought of taking the haunted chamber for playing your tricks in with that poor 'losopher: I durst as soon think of taking the church or the vestry.—What's that?

SMOOTHLY.

I heard nothing. Poor creature! you are so ignorant, Dolly, and that makes you frightened. Don't you know that ghosts and all them terrible things never appear till midnight?

DOLLY.

And if so be, why did you ax me to keep you company? Housekeeper wants me below to pick raisins.

SMOOTHLY.

O la! I a'n't frightened: but I thought I should weary somehow to wait by myself.

DOLLY.

Ah, Mrs. Smoothly, it don't become me to say so, but I be feared that you and the 'losopher mean to do some'at that a'n't right.

MRS. SMOOTHLY.

Nothing worse than cajoling him out of a little money, which he loves like his own life; and punishing him for being so conceited as to believe that my mistress, forsooth, would make an appointment with such a ragamuffin as him.

DOLLY.

Hark; he's coming now. Good luck to you.

[Exit.

Enter Smitchenstault (hastily and alarmed).

MRS. SMOOTHLY.

My dear Mr. Smitchenstault; dear deceiver!

SMITCHENSTAULT.

No honey words.

SMOOTHLY.

What's the matter?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Some one pursues me: hide me somewhere.

SMOOTHLY.

Mercy on us! (opening the door of a small closet.) Go in there. (Puts him in.) I'll get off altogether. (Runs to the concealed door by which Dolly had gone out.) She has shut it so hard, stupid idiot, that it won't open. What shall I do? O I remember. (Opens an old wardrobe press, and creeps into it.)

Enter Charville, followed by Dickenson.

CHARVILLE (speaking as he enters).

No; I could not be deceived. I'll take my oath it was he. If I had not stumbled in the gallery at that other cursed door, I should have got up to him.

DICKENSON.

Surely, Sir, your eyes have deceived you: it could not be Sir Robert Freemantle that you saw.

CHARVILLE.

Deceived! Do I not know his form, his size, his manner? Fiends seize him! I know them too well: they are before mine eyes all day long.

DICKENSON.

Then, perhaps, they were only before your eyes now in the same manner.

CHARVILLE.

No, no, no! Thou makest me mad. Do I not know one thing from another? Cannot one know one hateful face from another, though one be not absolutely within arms' length of the pest?

DICKENSON.

Nay, if your honour saw the face.

CHARVILLE.

Saw it or saw it not, I'll be sworn it was him. Did you not say yourself that you saw a man run hastily up stairs?

DICKENSON.

Yes, Sir; but it appeared to me to be Mr. Smitchenstault.

CHARVILLE.

Smitchenstault! Think'st thou I should not know a hog from a greyhound? Is Smitchenstault tall?

DICKENSON.

I cannot say he is.

CHARVILLE.

The figure I saw was tall? Is he slender?

DICKENSON.

I cannot say he is.

CHARVILLE.

The figure I saw was slender. Has he, in any respect, the appearance of a gentleman?

DICKENSON.

Not much of that, I confess.

CHARVILLE.

Then, teaze me no more by saying it was Smitchenstault; it was the devil as soon. Where can he have disappeared? There is no door for him to escape by.

DICKENSON.

What if it should be some apparition that has deceived you? This is the haunted chamber which has been shut up so long, and why it is open to-night, and lights burning, I cannot imagine.

CHARVILLE.

Ay, ay! There is always a ghost or a haunted chamber wherever intrigue and treachery are at work. But if it be not a spirit, I will dislodge it.

DICKENSON.

The closet door seems to move.

CHARVILLE (running to the door).

I cannot open it; somebody presses it to in the inside. Go fetch my pistols: I'll send a brace of bullets through it, and prove if the thing within be flesh and blood, or not. Run for my pistols, I say.

SMITCHENSTAULT (bursting from the closet).

Don't fire de pistol! I am blood and flesh.

CHARVILLE.

You here! Where is Freemantle? It was him I followed along the gallery, if there be any truth in vision.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Yes, dere be great trute in vision: it is one of senses. I feel, I see, I taste, I smell, I hear;—one of de laws of nature which do force belief.

CHARVILLE.

Pest take your philosophy! Where is Freemantle? Where is the man I saw before me in the gallery?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Gone out by dat door. (Pointing to the panel.)

CHARVILLE.

Is there a door here? (Searching for it.)

DICKENSON (to Smitchenstault.)

Pray, Sir, how did you see him?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

I peep tro' de chinks of de closet, and see him pass.

DICKENSON.

And what brought you here, Mr. Smitchenstault?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Only to take de little pleasance wid Mrs. Smootly, who is very fond of me.

DICKENSON.

How could that be, when there is no door there?

CHARVILLE (having just discovered).

Faith! but there is though, which confirms every word he has said. (Bursts open the concealed door, and exit, followed by Dickenson.)

SMOOTHLY (bursting from her hiding place in a rage.)

O you lying serpent! Pleasance with Mrs. Smoothly, indeed! Very fond of you! Pretty pleasance, indeed! I could burst with vexation.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Dear, dear: what for all dis?

SMOOTHLY.

And to take my name in your mouth too! Would not Dolly or the dairy-maid have suited as well for your excuse?

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Dear me, pretty moute! too pretty to speak de scold.

SMOOTHLY (pushing him off).

Keep your distance, I say. Pleasance with me, indeed! Such a lie; such an aggravated lie; I detest all lies! Pleasance, indeed.

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Don't be so angry; dere be no pleasance in dat, and dere be no reasons neider: and every body ought to speak wid reasons.

SMOOTHLY.

You provoke me worser and worser with your reasons. Pleasance with such a creature as you! I shan't be able to hold up my head in the family again; no, never. I'll let them all know what kind of a man you are. I'll let Miss Charville know that you only court her for her fortune. I'll——

SMITCHENSTAULT.

Hush, hush, hush! de poor pretty, angry, goody girl: here is de money for you.

SMOOTHLY.

I'll have none of your money. (Going off disdainfully.)

SMITCHENSTAULT (following her).

O but you will to': it is gold money, my dear, pretty, honey moute.[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Library.

Enter Crafton and Sir Level Clump, by opposite sides.

SIR LEVEL.

Good morning, Sir; you have followed my intimation pretty rapidly.

CRAFTON.

Sooner than you expected? too soon?

SIR LEVEL.

By no means; I am heartily glad of it; for it argues that you still bear the same partiality for this delightful place, and now is your favourable opportunity.

CRAFTON.

Has Charville at length resolved to sell it?

SIR LEVEL.

Resolved! I should not say resolved.

CRAFTON.

Then say what you please, and I'll listen.

SIR LEVEL.

Mr. Charville, I don't know how, for I am but just come from a little expedition in the way of my profession, has taken a disgust to it.—I don't mean such as will incline him to sell it for an old song neither; but, in short, I give you notice as a friend, that you may have it now if you please.

CRAFTON.

And you do so with Charville's permission.

SIR LEVEL.

Yes—no—ay, in some measure I may say—I don't know that I can say so altogether.

CRAFTON.

Nay, my good Sir Level, you have taken so much pains in matters of taste to make every thing plain, and smooth, and orderly, be so obliging as to infuse a little of this same improving simplicity into matters of business. It does not signify to me two straws whether Mr. Charville sends me this notice directly or indirectly. The same reasonable offer which I made him for the property two years ago I am willing to make him again, and more than this I cannot and will not give.

SIR LEVEL.

Property! what a bargain-making name you give to it now! the place of your nativity, the beauty of which you so much and so justly admired. Can any thing of sylvan scenery be more charming?

CRAFTON.

And your tone is somewhat altered also, my good Sir Level: this same sylvan scenery was only practicable ground when you last spoke of it to me. I must e'en repeat to you again, that I will make the same offer for it which I made to him two years ago.

SIR LEVEL.

But consider, my dear sir, how much it has been improved since then. My plans have been already executed, and this, though it may not become me to say so, should weigh with you greatly.

CRAFTON.

I am sure it weighs heavily.

SIR LEVEL.

And look here at this sketch (unrolling a large plan upon the table)—look what groves, what lawns, what sweeping declivities and acclivities, what harmonious undulations! you shall have this plan—the benefit of all this tasteful design into the bargain,

CRAFTON.

No, Sir Level; I am not such a Jew as to crib that in, along with the rest. I'll first, if you please, purchase the estate in my own plain way, and then you may ask as much as you like for your plan afterwards. This is, in my simple conceit, the best way of proceeding. (Sir Level turns peevishly away.) You think differently, I see. But here comes Mr. Charville himself.

Enter Charville.

SIR LEVEL (aside to Charville as he enters).

He's a cunning hunks,—can make nothing of him. Will only give the old price. Deal warily with him.

CRAFTON.

I am greatly obliged to you, Mr. Charville, for communicating to me, through Sir Level, your intention respecting this house and lands.

CHARVILLE.

You have a right to be first informed of it.

CRAFTON (bowing).

I shall be most happy to become the purchaser at what has been considered by competent judges as a reasonable price.

CHARVILLE.

This estate is a more desirable purchase to you, Mr. Crafton, than to any other man.

CRAFTON.

I have, it is true, sentiments of affection for it, the old home of my forefathers, but I am not rich enough to indulge them to the injury of a moderate fortune.

CHARVILLE.

Sir, I ask no more, if we can agree upon what really is a reasonable price. I should not wish to exact exorbitantly from the amiable and tender feelings of your nature.

SIR LEVEL (aside to Charville).

Pshaw! you may make him pay for all those amply enough, and take but little out of his pocket.

Enter Mrs. Charville.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

Good day, Mr. Crafton.

GRAFTON.

And to you, Madam, this and many good days.

CHARVILLE (to Mrs. Charville).

We meet upon business (turning to Crafton). Let your agent and mine, Mr. Crafton, meet together, and——

MRS. CHARVILLE (drawing her husband aside).

Are you wrong in the head to part with this house so suddenly, so unadvisedly?

CHARVILLE (aside sarcastically).

Ay, you advise me to keep it, I suppose; you have your tender feelings too, and partiality for the dear place (turning indignantly from her to Crafton). The place is yours, Sir, if our men of business can agree upon the terms, and I make no doubt they will.

SIR LEVEL (pulling him aside).

Rash, very rash to say so: he'll cozen your poor attorney, depend upon it.

CHARVILLE (turning again to Crafton).

That is to say, Mr. Crafton, if after examining their report, I myself approve.

MRS. CHARVILLE (pulling him again aside).

Do not be angry with me for interfering; but where will you find such a pleasant residence?

CHARVILLE (as before).

Ay, Madam, and such pleasant—very pleasant neighbours.

MRS. CHARVILLE.

What do you mean?

CHARVILLE.

O you cannot possibly divine. (Turning to Crafton.) Sir, let the business be settled as soon as you please. You shall have it at the price which you formerly offered.

SIR LEVEL (pulling him aside as before).

He laughs in his sleeve at your rashness. I see too well by the smile on his face that he thinks he has jockied you.

CHARVILLE (turning to Crafton).

I mean with reasonable expedition; I am by no means in any particular haste.

MRS. CHARVILLE (going up coaxingly to Crafton as he is about to reply to Charville).

Nay nay, my dear Sir; you must not tempt him: come to my dressing room, and let Mary and I have a few words with you. You must positively say nothing more to Mr. Charville on this business to-day. It is too bright, too pleasant a day for such ungracious dealings. Come with me, my dear Sir. You must not—you can't refuse me.
[Exit leading off Crafton.

CHARVILLE (looking after them).

Yes, she will lead him as she pleases. How coaxingly, how bewitchingly she speaks to him! Ah, how it once bewitched me! she is speaking so close to his face, to the old, withered, hateful visage of Crafton—is she thus with every man? is she altogether shameless? Oh, oh, oh! this is not to be endured.

SIR LEVEL (returning from the other end of the room).

It is provoking enough; I'm sure.

CHARVILLE.

Ha! you are here: I thought you were——Yes, I have been really provoked; for he seems indifferent, and I don't know how, in this business.

SIR LEVEL.

He wants to buy the estate as a profitable speculation: he despises our improvements; he even laughs at my plan, and holds taste itself in derision.—Look here; I spread it out before him——

CHARVILLE.

Well, well; another time if you please: not now, I pray (putting it away with his hand).

SIR LEVEL.

But do me the favour only to observe—stone-headed fellow! He would let the savage brushwood remain in the forest, and I'll be hanged if he would not plant all my smooth shaven slopes with potatoes.

CHARVILLE.

Let him plant them with nettles and wormwood, an he will.

SIR LEVEL.

Your servant, Sir: I beg pardon; I intrude, I find.—(Aside, as he retires.) There are nettles and wormwood planted somewhere, that I was not aware of.[Exit.

CHARVILLE (alone, pacing up and down in a perturbed manner).

Ay, ay, it is very plain, it is too plain, it is shamefully plain. (Stopping short.) Mighty fond of this residence of a sudden. To be sure, where will she find another house so convenient, with back stairs, and panelled doors, and haunted chambers, and so many cursed conveniences? (After pacing up and down as before.) Because I did not find him, I did not see what was before my face as plainly as my hand, and, forsooth, it was Smitchenstault. O woman, woman! thy mysteries of cunning and contrivance! thou would'st deceive man as the evil one deceives thee. But it shall not be.—What can I do? This torment of my mind; this disgrace on my state I can disclose to no one. This cursed world is no place for a man like me to live in: would I were out of it!—O woman, woman!

Enter Isaac.

What do you want?

ISAAC.

Please your honour, you are wanted in the justice chamber.

CHARVILLE.

What's the matter?

ISAAC.

Goody Bullock is come to swear the peace against her husband: he has beaten her all black and blue.

CHARVILLE.

And he has served her right. Let him beat her black and yellow next time.

ISAAC.

Why, please your honour, she is a good peaceable woman.

CHARVILLE.

Out, fool! she is a hypocrite, and a liar, and a jade. Let him beat her all the colours of the rainbow, an he will.[Exit.

ISAAC (looking after him in a bewildered astonishment).

He's surely bereft of his wits altogether. To call poor old Goody Bullock all them bad names, goes to church every Sunday, with her stuff cloak over her arm, and knits hose for the vicar!

SCENE IV.

A Summer Parlour, with a Door opening to the Garden.

Enter Mary and Sir Robert Freemantle from the garden.

MARY (speaking as they enter).

And your uncle is bent upon purchasing this place.

FREEMANTLE.

He was born in this house.

MARY.

It is natural that he should wish to possess it; yet I am sorry for it. I have an affection for it too, and so had my brother; but he has taken some capricious dislike to it, I don't know how.—(a pause). And you leave us so soon?

FREEMANTLE.

I feel, my dear Miss Charville, that it is right I should.

MARY.

How can that be?

FREEMANTLE.

Have you not perceived your brother's growing dislike to me?

MARY.

He is of late more ungracious to us all; but I must confess I have perceived something of what you say.

FREEMANTLE.

I perceive it whenever I come near him, in every gesture of his body, in every glance of his eye. I perceive too well that he has discovered my secret, and disapproves, more strongly than I had apprehended, my attachment to you.

MARY.

His mind is sometimes warped; he does not always judge fairly.

FREEMANTLE.

My precaution in paying my chief attentions to your sister-in-law, which, by my uncle's advice, I have practised, that I might not provoke him to discard me till a favourable turn in my affairs, then daily looked for, should entitle me to declare myself, and, I will also own, to engage Mrs. Charville more heartily in my interest,—all this precaution has been in vain; and I find that my own undirected, incautious conduct would have been the more successful of the two: at least, I am sure it could not have been less so.

MARY.

Then pursue it, now, and retrieve your error.

FREEMANTLE.

That you permit me to do so, makes me a proud and a happy man. But you forget, my dear Mary, what I told you half an hour ago.

MARY.

What was it? I ought not to be so forgetful.

FREEMANTLE.

That the papers wanting to establish my right to the Shropshire estate, which my attorney has been searching for amongst our old family records, cannot be found. The letter I received from him this morning informs me, that he now despairs of finding them; and this being the case, I must despair of ever obtaining your brother's consent to our union.

MARY.

Despair is a strong expression.

FREEMANTLE.

But is it not a just one? I have not now the face, poor as I am, and poor as I shall probably remain, to propose myself as a match for you.

MARY.

Well then, Sir Robert, what makes you timid makes me bold. Have the constancy to wait till I am twenty-five: three years will bring this to pass; and then, if you still think me worth the having, and do not consider me as altogether antiquated, I am yours. My fortune will then be in my own power, independently of my brother's consent.

FREEMANTLE.

Is it possible that I am so happy? How frank, how noble! But should I take advantage of a sudden impulse of thy generous nature?—Alas! I should be more virtuous than I feel I am. My uncle has offered to settle his very moderate fortune upon me: but in this case, my sister would be scantily provided for, and our poor cousin, who has ruined himself at the gaming-table, would be entirely destitute. I have therefore refused it.

MARY.

You have done right, and this refusal gives you a value in my estimation beyond any acquisition of fortune. (Noise without.) We shall be interrupted here.

FREEMANTLE.

Let us return to the garden. My formidable rival, Mr. Smitchenstault, must, by this time, have left it.

MARY.

And I don't think he observed us as we fled from him. He was only passing on to his favourite haunt.[Exeunt into the garden.