James Sheridan Knowles

“ Who covets thee may wear thee;—I’m not he!
Julia. And then my title! Soon as I put on
The ring, I’m Lady Clifford. So I take
Precedence of plain mistress, were she e’en
The richest heiress in the land! At town
Or country ball, you’ll see me take the lead,
While wives that carry on their backs the wealth
To dower a princess, shall give place to me;—
Will I not profit, think you, by my right?
Be sure I will! marriage shall prove to me
A never-ending pageant. Every day
Shall show how I am spoused! ”

“ It brings us to a dungeon, then.
Julia. The page,
The thrall of love, more than the dungeon’s thrall,
Is there?
Wal. He is. He lies in fetters.
Julia. Hard!
Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on.
Wal. Some one unrivets them!
Julia. The princess? ’Tis!
Wal. It is another page.
Julia. It is herself!
Wal. Her skin is fair; and his is berry-brown.
His locks are raven black; and hers are gold.
Julia. Love’s cunning of disguises! spite of locks,
Skin, vesture,—it is she, and only she
What will not constant woman do for love
That’s loved with constancy! ”

“ Helen. You are a valiant man, Fathom.
Fath. Am not I? Walks not the earth the man I am afraid of.
Helen. Fear you not Master Walter?
Fath. No.
Helen. You do!
Fath. I don’t!
Helen. I’ll prove it to you. You see him breaking your young mistress’s heart, and have not the manhood to stand by her.
Fath. What could I do for her?
Helen. Let her out of prison. It were the act of a man.
Fath. That man am I!
Helen. Well said, brave Fathom!
Fath. But my place!
Helen. I’ll provide thee with a better one.
Fath. ’Tis a capital place! So little to do, and so much to get for’t. Six pounds in the year ”

“ Julia. Sir Thomas Clifford.
Wal. You’re right.
Julia. His rank and wealth are roots to doubt;
And while they lasted, still the weed would grow,
Howe’er you plucked it. No! That’s o’er—that’s done.
Was never lady wronged so foul as I! [Weeps.]
Wal. Thou’rt to be pitied.
Julia. [Aroused.] Pitied! Not so bad
As that.
Wal. Indeed thou art, to love the man
That spurns thee!
Julia. Love him! Love! If hate could find
A word more harsh than its own name, I’d take it,
To speak the love I bear him! [Weeps.]
Wal. Write thy own name,
And show him how near akin thy hate’s to hate.
Julia. ”

“ I’d talk to thee.
Julia. You’d tire of that!
Clif. I’d read to thee.
Julia. And that!
Clif. I’d talk to thee again.
Julia. And sooner tire
Than first you did, and fall asleep at last.
You’d never do to lead a country life.
Clif. You deal too harshly with me! Matchless maid,
As loved instructor brightens dullest wit,
Fear not to undertake the charge of me!
A willing pupil kneels to thee, and lays
His title and his fortune at your feet.
Julia. His title and his fortune!
[Enter Master Walter and Helen.—Julia, disconcerted, retires with the latter.—Clifford rises.]
Wal. So, Sir Thomas! ”

“ Helen. I’ll ne’er wed man, if not my cousin Modus.
Mod. Nor woman I, save cousin Helen’s she.
Wal. [To Master Heartwell.] A daughter, have you, and a nephew, too,
Without their match in duty! Let them marry.
For you, sir, who to-day have lost an earldom,
Yet would have shared that earldom with my child—
My only one—content yourself with prospect
Of the succession; it must fall to you,
And fit yourself to grace it. Ape not those
Who rank by pride. The man of simplest bearing
Is yet a lord, when he’s a lord indeed!
Tin. The paradox is obsolete. Ne’er heed! ”

“ Helen. And so was I, and know as much the cause.
[Enter Master Walter, with parchments.]
Wal. Joy, my Julia!
Impatient love has foresight! Lo you here
The marriage deeds filled up, except a blank
To write your jointure. What you will, my girl!
Is this a lover? Look! Three thousand pounds
Per annum for your private charges! Ha!
There’s pin-money! Is this a lover? Mark
What acres, forests, tenements, are taxed
For your revenue; and so set apart,
That finger cannot touch them, save thine own.
Is this a lover? What good fortune’s thine!
Thou dost not speak; but, ’tis the way with joy! ”

“ Hark ye! were you a gentleman, Master Thomas,—for then you know you would be a different kind of man,—how many times would you have your coat altered?
Thos. Why, Master Fathom, as many times as it would take to make it fit me.
Fath. Good! But, supposing it fitted thee at the first?
Thos. Then would I have it altered not at all.
Fath. Good! Thou wouldst be a reasonable gentleman. Thou wouldst have a conscience. Now hark to a tale about my lady’s last gown. How many times, think you, took I it back to the sempstress? ”

“ Helen. In Cheapside, then.
And now, then, to Sir Thomas! He is just
The height I like a man.
Julia. Thy feather’s just
The height I like a feather! Mine’s too short!
What shall I give thee in exchange for it?
Helen. What shall I give thee for a minute’s talk
About Sir Thomas?
Julia. Why, thy feather.
Helen. Take it!
Clif. [Aside to Modus.] What, likes she not to speak of me?
Helen. And now
Let’s talk about Sir Thomas—much I’m sure
He loves you.
Julia. Much I’m sure, he has a right! ”

“ Fath. Ten times to a certainty. How many times makes that?
Thos. Eighteen, Master Fathom, by the rule of addition.
Fath. And how many times more will make twenty?
Thee. Twice, by the same rule.
Fath. Thou hast worked with thy pencil and slate, Master Thomas! Well, ten times, as I said, took I back the gown for the trimmings; and was she content after all? I warrant you no, or my ears did not pay for it. She wished, she said, that the slattern sempstress had not touched the gown, for nought had she done but botched it. Now what think you had the sempstress done to the gown? ”

“ Who doubted e’en a wife’s—so that I dropped
The title of thy father, lest thy duty
Should pay the debt thy love could solve alone.
All this and more, that to thy friends and thee
Pertains, at fitting time thou shalt be told.
But now thy nuptials wait—the happy close
Of thy hard trial—wholesome, though severe!
The world won’t cheat thee now—thy heart is proved;—
Thou know’st thy peace by finding out its bane,
And ne’er will act from reckless impulse more! ”

“ But fools would fly from it; for O! ’tis sweet!
It finds the heart out, be there one to find;
And corners in’t where store of pleasures lodge,
We never dreamed were there! It is to dwell
’Mid smiles that are not neighbours to deceit;
Music, whose melody is of the heart;
And gifts, that are not made for interest,—
Abundantly bestowed by Nature’s cheek,
And voice, and hand! It is to live on life,
And husband it! It is to constant scan
The handiwork of Heaven. It is to con
Its mercy, bounty, wisdom, power! It is
To nearer see our God!
Julia. How like he talks
To Master Walter! ”

“ I’ll learn of thee, love, when I’d know a clerk!
Julia. I wonder who he is!
Helen. Wouldst like to know?
Wouldst for a fancy ride to town with him?
I prophesy he comes to take thee thither!
Julia. He ne’er takes me to town! No, Helen, no!
To town who will, a country life for me!
Helen. We’ll see!
[Enter Fathom.]
Fath. You’re wanted, madam.
Julia. [Embarrassed.] Which of us?
Fath. You, madam.
Helen. Julia! what’s the matter? Nay,
Mount not the rose so soon! He must not see it
A month hence. ’Tis loves flower, which once she wears,
The maid is all his own.
Julia. Go to!
Helen. ”

“ I’ll lead thee to the church on Monday week.
Till then, farewell and then, farewell for ever!
O Julia, I have ventured for thy love,
As the bold merchant, who, for only hope
Of some rich gain, all former gains will risk.
Before I asked a portion of thy heart,
I perilled all my own; and now, all’s lost!
[Clifford and Modus go out.]
Julia. Helen!
Helen. What ails you, sweet?
Julia. I cannot breathe—quick, loose my girdle, oh!
[Faints.]
[Master Walter and Master Heartwell come forward.]
Wal. Good Master Heartwell, help to take her in,
Whilst I make after him! and look to her! ”

“ Is there no way to ’scape these nuptials?
Wal. Julia,
A promise made admits not of release,
Save by consent or forfeiture of those
Who hold it—so it should be pondered well
Before we let it go. Ere man should say
I broke the word I had the power to keep,
I’d lose the life I had the power to part with!
Remember, Julia, thou and I to-day
Must, to thy father, of thy training render
A strict account. While honour’s left to us,
We have something—nothing, having all but that.
Now for thy last act of obedience, Julia!
Present thyself before thy bridegroom! [She assents.] Good! ”

“ She would not let thee, were she of my mind!
She’d take compassion on thee. Then for hope;
From hope to confidence; from confidence
To boldness;—then you’d speak; at first entreat;
Then urge; then flout; then argue; then enforce;
Make prisoner of her hand; besiege her waist;
Threaten her lips with storming; keep thy word
And carry her! My sampler ’gainst thy Ovid!
Why cousin, are you frightened, that you stand
As you were stricken dumb? The case is clear,
You are no soldier. You’ll ne’er win a battle.
You care too much for blows! ”

“ Sheridan Knowles’s fame, therefore, was made, like that of his friend Macready, and the friendship between author and actor continued. Sheridan Knowles had a kindly simplicity of character, and the two qualities for which an actor most prizes a dramatist, skill in providing opportunities for acting that will tell, and readiness to make any changes that the actor asks for. The postscript to his first letter to Macready was, “Make any alterations you like in any part of the play, and I shall be obliged to you.” ”

“ I read on and on, and was soon absorbed in the interest of the story and the passion of its scenes, till at its close I found myself in such a state of excitement that for a time I was undecided what step to take. Impulse was in the ascendant, and snatching up my pen I hurriedly wrote, as my agitated feelings prompted, a letter to the author, to me then a perfect stranger. ”

“ Clif. Misfortune liketh company; it seldom
Visits its friends alone. Ha! Master Walter,
And ruffled too. I’m in no mood for him.
[Enter Master Walter.]
Wal. So, Sir—Sir Thomas Clifford! what with speed
And choler—I do gasp for want of breath.
Clif. Well, Master Walter?
Wal. You’re a rash young man, sir;
Strong-headed and wrong-headed, and I fear, sir,
Not over delicate in that fine sense
Which men of honour pride themselves upon!
Clif. Well, Master Walter?
Wal. A young woman’s heart, sir,
Is not a stone to carve a posy on! ”

“ Leave that to commoners! ’Tis vulgar—she’s
Betrothed, you tell me, to Sir Thomas Clifford?
Roch. Yes.
Tin. That a commoner should thwart a lord!
Yet not a commoner. A baronet
Is fish and flesh. Nine parts plebeian, and
Patrician in the tenth. Sir Thomas Clifford!
A man, they say, of brains! I abhor brains
As I do tools: they’re things mechanical. ”

“ The sleeves a fit—the tucker a fit—the trimmings her fancy to a T—ha! ha! ha! and she praised the sempstress—ha! ha! ha! and she smiles at me, and I smile—ha! ha! ha! and the sempstress smiles—ha! ha! ha! Now, why did the sempstress smile?
Thos. That she had succeeded so well in her art.
Fath. Thou hast hit it again! The jade must have been born a sempstress! If ever I marry, she shall work for my wife. The gown was the same gown, and there was my mistress’s twentieth mood!
Thos. What think you will Master Walter say when he comes back? I fear he’ll hardly know his country maid again. ”

“ You, Helen, to my Julia look—a change
Of dresses will suffice. She must have new ones,
Matches for her new state! Haste, friends. My Julia!
Why stand you poring there upon the ground?
Time flies. Your rise astounds you? Never heed—
You’ll play my lady countess like a queen!
[They go out.]
ACT IV. SCENE I.—A Room in the Earl of Rochdale’s
[Eater Helen.]
Helen. I’m weary wandering from room to room;
A castle after all is but a house—
The dullest one when lacking company.
Were I at home, I could be company
Unto myself. I see not Master Walter,
He’s ever with his ward. I see not her. ”

“ Will ne’er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn.
[They go out.]
SCENE III.—An Apartment in the House.
[Enter Julia, followed by Clifford.]
Julia. No more! I pray you, sir, no more!
Clif. I love you!
Julia. You mock me, sir!
Clif. Then is there no such thing
On earth as reverence; honour filial, the fear
Of kings, the awe of supreme heaven itself,
Are only shows and sounds that stand for nothing.
I love you!
Julia. You have known me scarce a minute!
Clif. Say but a moment, still I say I love you!
Love’s not a flower that grows on the dull earth ”

“ A hard creditor he proves,
Who keeps strict reckoning—will have interest.
As well as principal. A ruined man
Is now Sir Thomas Clifford!
Helen. I’m glad on’t.
Mod. And so am I,
A scurvy trick it was
He served you, madam. Use a lady so!
I merely bore with him. I never liked him.
Helen. No more did I. No, never could I think
He looked his title.
Mod. No, nor acted it.
If rightly they report, he ne’er disbursed
To entertain his friends, ’tis broadly said,
A hundred pounds in the year! He was most poor
In the appointments of a man of rank,
Possessing wealth like his. His horses, hacks! ”

“ It is as palatable poison as you will purchase within a mile round Ludgate! Drink, gentlemen; make free. You know I am a man of expectations; and hold my money as light as the purse in which I carry it.
Gay. We drink, Master Wilford. Not a man of us has been chased as yet.
Wilf. But you fill not fairly, sirs! Look at my measure! Wherefore a large glass, if not for a large draught? Fill, I pray you, else let us drink out of thimbles! This will never do for the friends of the nearest of kin to the wealthiest peer in Britain. ”

“ Gay. With all my heart, since ’tis your lordship’s will.
Wilf. That’s right! Put up! Come, friends!
[Wilford and Friends go out.]
Wal. I’ll follow him!
Why do you hold me? ’Tis not courteous of you!
Think’st thou I fear them? Fear! I rate them but
As dust! dross! offals! Let me at them!—Nay,
Call you this kind? then kindness know I not;
Nor do I thank you for’t! Let go, I say!
Clif. Nay, Master Walter, they’re not worth your wrath.
Wal. How know you me for Master Walter? By
My hunchback, eh!—my stilts of legs and arms,
The fashion more of ape’s than man’s? Aha! ”