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• The Works of Voltaire: the Dramatic Works of Voltaire Vol. Ix— Part I
• Alzire
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Orestes
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• SÉmiramis
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Catiline
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Pandora
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• The Dramatic Works of Voltaire Vol. Ix—part Ii
• The Scotch Woman
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Nanine
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• The Prude
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• The Tatler
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

fabrice, wasp.

[At a table in the coffee-room.

freeport

[Smoking a pipe.

fabrice.

I must be so free as to tell you, Mr. Wasp, if I may believe all that is said of you, you would do me a favor by never coming to my house again.

freeport.

All that is said is generally false: what fly has stung you, Mr. Fabrice?

fabrice.

You come, and write your papers here, Mr. Wasp; and my coffee-house will be looked on as a poison shop.

freeport.

[To Fabrice.

This fellow seems to deserve what you say.

fabrice.

[To Wasp.

They say you speak ill of all mankind.

freeport.

Of all mankind! that’s too much indeed.

fabrice.

They begin even to say you are an informer, and a scoundrel, but I am loth to believe them.

freeport.

[To Wasp.

Do you hear, sir? this is past raillery.

wasp.

I am an illustrious writer, sir, a man of taste.

fabrice.

Taste or no taste, sir, I say you have done me an injury.

wasp.

So far from it, sir, that I have helped off your coffee, made it fashionable to come to your house, ’tis my reputation that has brought you custom.

fabrice.

A fine reputation indeed! that of a spy, a bad author, and a worse man!

wasp.

Stop, Mr. Fabrice, if you please. You may attack my morals, but my works—I will never suffer that.

fabrice.

Your writings, sir, are not worth my consideration; but you are suspected of a design against the amiable Miss Lindon.

freeport.

If I thought so, I would drown the dog with my own hands.

fabrice.

’Tis said, you accused her of being Scotch, and the honest gentleman too who lives above stairs.

wasp.

Well, and suppose I had, what harm is there in being of any particular country?

fabrice.

’Tis moreover reported that you have had several conferences with the agents of a certain choleric lady who comes here, and with the servants of a noble lord, who used to frequent this house: that you tell tales, and blow up quarrels.

freeport.

[To Wasp.

Are you really such a rogue? then shall I detest you.

fabrice.

O thank God! here comes my lord, if I am not mistaken.

freeport.

A lord, is it? then your humble servant, I hate a lord, as much as I do a bad writer.

fabrice.

He’s not like other lords, I assure you.

freeport.

Like other lords or not, ’tis no matter. I never love to be disturbed, so fare you well. I don’t know how it is, my friend, but I am always thinking of this young Scotchwoman—I’ll come back presently—immediately. I want to talk seriously to her—your servant. This Scotchwoman is handsome, and a good creature.—Adieu—[returning] tell her, I intend to serve her greatly.

SCENE II.

lord murray.

[Pensive and in great agitation.

wasp.

[Bowing to him, of which he takes no notice.

fabrice.

[At a distance from him.

lord murray.

[To Fabrice.

I’m glad to see you, friend: how is that charming girl you have the pleasure to boast of as your lodger here?

fabrice.

She has been very ill, sir, since she saw you: but I’m sure she will be better now.

lord murray.

Great God, thou protector of innocence, I implore thee for her; O deign to make me an instrument in doing justice to virtue, and sheltering the unfortunate from oppression! Thanks to thy goodness, and my own endeavors, I have hopes of success. Hark’ee, friend, I would talk a little with that man.

[Pointing to Wasp.

wasp.

[To Fabrice.

You see, sir, you were mistaken, and I have some credit still at court.

fabrice.

[Going out.

That’s not quite so clear.

lord murray.

[To Wasp.

Well, my friend—

wasp.

[Bowing.

Permit me, my lord, to dedicate a volume to your lordship—

lord murray.

No, sir, we are not talking about dedications: you are the person that informed my servants of the arrival of the old gentleman just come from Scotland; you described him, and made the same report to the minister of state.

wasp.

My lord, I only did my duty.

lord murray.

[Giving him a purse.

You have done me a service without knowing it: but I don’t consider the intention. Some folks say you meant to hurt, and have done good: there’s something for your service. But if ever from this time forward you so much as pronounce the name of that gentleman, or of Miss Lindon, I’ll throw you out at window,—away, be gone, sir.

wasp.

My lord, I return you thanks; everybody abuses me, and gives me money; I am certainly a cleverer fellow than I thought I was.

SCENE III.

lord murray.

[Alone.

An old gentleman just arrived from Scotland; Miss Lindon born in the same country! alas! if it were possible to repair the cruel injuries my father did—if heaven would graciously permit—but I’ll go in. [To Polly, who comes out of Miss Lindon’s apartment.] Polly, were not you surprised at not seeing me for so long a time? two whole days! I should not have forgiven myself had I not been engaged in my dear Miss Lindon’s service: the ministers of state were at Windsor, and I was obliged to follow them there. Heaven surely inspired thee, when thou toldst me, Polly, the secret of her birth.

polly.

I’m frightened yet, my mistress so often forbade me: were I to give her the least uneasiness I should die with grief. Alas! sir, your absence this very day threw her into a fainting fit, and I believe I should have fainted too, if I had not exerted all my strength to assist her.

lord murray.

There, Polly, there’s something for the fainting fit you had like to have fallen into.

[Gives her money.

polly.

My lord, I thank you; I am not so high spirited as my mistress, who refuses to accept of anything; and pretends to be quite at her ease, when she is absolutely starving.

lord murray.

Good heaven! the daughter of Montross reduced to poverty! how guilty am I! but I will repair everything, her condition shall soon be changed: why would she so long conceal it from me?

polly.

’Tis the only thing in which she deceived you, or I believe ever will.

lord murray.

But let us go in, I long to throw myself at her feet.

polly.

O my lord, not yet; she is now with an old gentleman, a very old gentleman, who is her countryman, and they are saying such tender things.

lord murray.

Who is this old gentleman? methinks I am already interested in his favor.

polly.

I know nothing of him.

lord murray.

Would to God he were the person I wish him to be! and what did they say to each other?

polly.

They began to grow very serious, the gentleman seemed to wish me out of the room, and so I came away.

SCENE IV.

lady alton, lord murray, polly.

lady alton.

So, sir, at last I’ve caught you: thou base perfidious man, now sir, I am convinced of your inconstancy, and my own disgrace.

lord murray.

True, madam, you are so. [Aside.] what an unseasonable intrusion!

lady alton.

Perfidious monster!

lord murray.

A monster I may appear in your eyes, and I am glad of it; but perfidious I never was; ’tis not my character: before I loved another, I frankly told you I had no longer any regard for you.

lady alton.

After a promise of marriage, wretch, after so many protestations of love!

lord murray.

When I made those protestations I loved you, and when I promised to marry you, I meant to do so.

lady alton.

And why then did not you keep your word? what prevented you?

lord murray.

Your character, your fiery temper and disposition: marriage was intended to make us happy, and I saw too plainly we were not made for each other.

lady alton.

And so you have quitted me for a wandering lady errant, a poor fortune-hunter.

lord murray.

No, madam, I leave you for softness and good-nature, for every grace, and every virtue.

lady alton.

But you are not yet possessed of her: know, traitor, I will be revenged, and speedily too.

lord murray.

I know your vindictive temper, know you have more envy than jealousy, more rage than tenderness, but you will be forced to honor and respect the woman I love.

lady alton.

I know the object of your affection, sir, better than you do; know I who she is; I know too who that stranger is, who came hither yesterday: yes sir, I am acquainted with it all, and so are they who have more power and authority than Lord Murray: that unworthy rival, for whom I am despised, shall soon be seized and taken from you.

lord murray.

What says she, Polly? I’m terrified at the thought.

polly.

And so am I. We are undone, sir.

lord murray.

Stay, madam, explain yourself—hear me.

lady alton.

I’ll hear nothing, answer nothing, explain nothing: you are an inconstant, false-hearted, perfidious villain.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

lord murray, polly.

lord murray.

What does this fury mean? her jealousy is terrible: heaven grant I never may be jealous! she talks of having my dear girl seized, and pretends to know this stranger. What would she be at?

polly.

To tell you the truth, my mistress has been taken up by order of the government, and I too, I believe; and if it had not been for an honest fat man, who is goodness itself, and who gave in bail for us, we had both been in prison at this very time. They had made me swear not to tell you anything of it: but how can I conceal it from you?

lord murray.

What do I hear? misfortune on misfortune! your mistress’s very name I find is suspected. Alas! my family was born to be the destruction of hers: heaven, fortune, justice, and love would repair all, but guilt opposes me. It shall not, must not triumph; do not alarm my dear girl. I’ll go myself to the ministry! Try everything, do everything to save her. I’ll deny myself the happiness of seeing her till I can assure her of success. I fly, Polly, to serve her, and will return immediately. Tell her I have left only because I adore her.

[Going out.

polly.

This is a strange adventure. I see this world is nothing but a perpetual contest between the virtuous and the wicked, and we poor girls are always the sufferers.

SCENE VI.

montross, miss lindon.

[Nods to Polly, who goes out.

montross.

Every word you utter pierces my soul: born in Lochaber! persecuted, oppressed, and deserted! a woman with such noble sentiments!

miss lindon.

Those sentiments, sir, perhaps are owing to my misfortunes: had I been brought up in ease and luxury, my soul, which is fortified by adversity, had been weak and vain.

montross.

O thou art worthy of a nobler fate. You acknowledge to me you are sprung from one of the proscribed families, whose blood was shed on a scaffold in our civil wars. But still you conceal from me your name and birth.

miss lindon.

Duty binds me to silence. My father himself was proscribed: they are even now in search of him, and were I to name perhaps I might destroy him. You inspire me, I own, with uncommon tenderness and respect, but I know you not, and I have everything to fear. You see I am myself suspected, and am a prisoner here. One word might ruin me.

montross.

One word perhaps might give me the greatest comfort: but tell me only what age you were of when you parted from your father, who was afterwards so unhappy?

miss lindon.

I was then but five years old.

montross.

Great God, have mercy on me! everything she says contributes to throw new light on my dark paths! O providence, do not withdraw thy goodness from me!

miss lindon.

You weep, sir, alas! nor can I help joining my tears with yours.

montross.

[Wiping his eyes.

Go on, I conjure you: after your father had quitted his family to see it no more, how long did you remain with your mother?

miss lindon.

I was ten years old when she died in my arms, oppressed with grief and misery, and after she had heard that my brother was killed in battle.

montross.

O, I faint; what a dreadful moment! O thou dear, unhappy wife, and thou more fortunate son, to die without seeing so much misery! do you remember this picture?

[Takes a picture out of his pocket.

miss lindon.

What do I see? is this a dream? surely ’tis my mother’s picture.

montross.

It is, it is your mother; and I am that unhappy father who is condemned to death, whose trembling arms now embrace thee.

miss lindon.

Do I live? where am I? O, sir, behold me at your knees: this is the first happy moment of my life: O, my father! alas! how darest you venture hither? I tremble for you, even whilst I am thus happy in your sight.

montross.

My dearest child, you know the misfortunes of our family; you know that the house of Murray, still jealous of ours, plunged us into these calamities. I have lost all: one friend alone remained, who by his interest and power might have restored me, and had promised it; but on my arrival here, I find that friend is dead, that I am searched after in Scotland, and a price put on my head. ’Tis, no doubt, the son of my old enemy who still persecutes me: I will die by his hand, or be revenged on him.

miss lindon.

And come you then with a resolution to kill Lord Murray?

montross.

Yes: I will avenge you and my family, or die. I only hazard a life already devoted to the scaffold.

miss lindon.

O fortune, in what new horrors dost thou involve me! what must I do? O my father!

montross.

My dearest daughter! how cruel is thy fate to be born of such a wretched father!

miss lindon.

O sir, I am much more unhappy than you think me: are you resolved on this fatal enterprise?

montross.

Ay, to death.

miss lindon.

O, my dear father, let me conjure you by that life which you gave me, by your misfortunes, by my own, which are, perhaps, still greater, do not expose me to the dread of losing you; have pity on me, spare your own life, and preserve mine.

montross.

Your voice reaches to my inmost soul: methinks I hear in thee, thy much-loved mother; speak, what would you?

miss lindon.

Do not expose your precious life, but quit this dangerous place, dangerous for us both: yes, I am resolved I will renounce all for my dear father’s sake. I am ready to follow you, I will accompany you, sir, to some far distant island, and there these hands shall labor to support you. It is my duty, and I will perform it: ’tis done, away.

montross.

I must not then avenge you?

miss lindon.

No, sir, that vengeance would destroy me: come, let us be gone.

montross.

Well, I submit. The father’s love prevails over all: since you have the courage to accompany me, I will go: I will prepare everything for our departure from London within this hour: be ready: one more embrace, and farewell.

SCENE VII.

miss lindon, polly.

miss lindon.

’Tis all over, Polly: I shall never see Lord Murray again.

polly.

Indeed, madam, but you will; he’ll be here in a few minutes: he is but just gone from hence.

miss lindon.

Gone from hence! and not see me; this is worse than all. O my unhappy father! why did we not go before?

polly.

If he had not been interrupted by that detestable Lady Alton.

miss lindon.

What! did he meet her here after all to insult me! after leaving me for three days without so much as writing! to affront me so grossly. O if my life were not necessary to my dear father, this moment would I part from it.

polly.

But hear me, madam, I swear to you my lord.—

miss lindon.

Perfidious wretch! but all men are so. O my poor father! hereafter I will think on none but thee.

polly.

On my soul, madam, you are wrong; my lord is not false or perfidious, but one of the best of men: he loves you from his soul, and has given me convincing proofs of it.

miss lindon.

Nature should be superior to love. I know not whither I am going, or what will become of me; but certainly I can never be more miserable than I am at present.

polly.

My dear mistress, you will hear nothing; recover your spirits a little: I tell you, you are beloved.

miss lindon.

O Polly, will you follow me?

polly.

To the end of the world, madam: but hear me; you are beloved, indeed you are.

miss lindon.

Let me alone; talk no more to me of my lord: alas! if he did love me, I must leave him—that gentleman you saw with me—

polly.

Well—

miss lindon.

Come in, and I’ll tell you all: tears and sighs will not let me speak: follow me, and get everything ready for our departure.

End of the Fourth Act.