The Heiress (Burgoyne, 1786)/Act 5, Scene 2

Not here! I am sure I marked the hour as well as the place, precisely in my note. (walks about.) Had I been told three days ago, that I should have been the appellant in a premeditated duel, I should have thought it an insult upon my princi­ples—That Clifford should be the cause of my transgressing the legal and sacred duties, we have ever both maintained—oh, it would have seemed a visionary impossibility—But he comes, to cut re­flection short———

Lord Gayville.I waited for you, Sir.

Lord Gayville.That ceremonial would grace an encounter of punctilio, but applies ill to the terms upon which I have call'd you here.

Clifford.What terms are those, my Lord.

Lord Gayville.Vengeance! Ample, final ven­geance! Draw, Sir.

Clifford.No, my Lord, my sword is reserved for more becoming purposes: It is not the instru­ment of passion; and has yet been untried in a dispute with my friend.

​Lord Gayville.But why is it not ready for a dif­ferent trial, the vindication of perfidy, the blackest species of perfidy, that ever the malignant enemy of mankind infused into the human breast—per­fidy to the friend who loved and trusted you, and in the nearest interests of his heart.

Clifford.Take care, my Lord; should my blood boil like your's, and it is rising fast, you know not the punishment that awaits you. I came tempe­rate, your gross provocation and thirst of blood make temperance appear disgrace—I am tempted to take a revenge—

Lord Gayville. (Draws.)The means are ready. Come, Sir, you are to give an example of qualities generally held incompatible—bravery and dis­honour.

Clifford.Another such word, and by heaven!—How have I deserv'd this opinion?

Lord Gayville.Ask your conscience—Under the mask of friendship you have held a secret inter­course with the woman I adore; you have sup­planted me in her affections, you have robb'd me of the very charm of my life—can you deny it?

Clifford.I avow it all.

Lord Gayville.Unparalleled insolence of guilt.

Clifford.Are you sure there is nothing within the scope of possibility, that wou'd excuse or atone———

Lord Gayville.Death—Death only—no abject submission—no compromise for infamy—chuse instantly—and save yourself from the only stretch of baseness left—the invention of a falsehood to palliate—

Clifford. (In the utmost agitation, and drawing his sword.)Falsehood!—You shall have no other ex​­planation. (After a struggle within himself, Clifford drops the point and exposes his breast.)

Lord Gavyville.Stand upon your defence, Sir— What do you mean?

Clifford.You said nothing but my life wou'd satisfy you, take it, and remember me.

Lord Gayville.I say so still—but upon an equal pledge—I am no assassin.

Clifford. (with great emotion)If to strike at the heart of your friend, more deeply than that poor instrument in your hand could do, makes an assassin, you have been one already.

Lord Gayville.That look, that tone, how like to innocence? Had he not avow'd such abominable practices—

Clifford.I avow them again: I have rival'd you in the love of the woman you adore—her affections are rivetted to me. I have removed her from your sight; secured her from your recovery———

Lord Gayville.Damnation!

Clifford.I have done it to save unguarded beauty; to save unprotected innocence; to save a sister.

Lord Gayville.A sister!

Clifford. (With exultation.)Vengeance! Ample, final vengeance! (a pause) It is accomplish'd—over him—and over myself—my victory is com­pleat.

Lord Gayville.Where shall I hide my shame!

Lord Gayville.Why did you keep the secret from me?

Clifford.I knew it not myself, till the strange concurrence of circumstances, to which you were in part witness a few hours since, brought it to light. I meant to impart to you the discovery, ​when my temper took fire—Let us bury our mu­tual errors in the thought, that we now for life are friends.

Lord Gayville.Brothers, Clifford—Let us inter­change that title and doubly, doubly ratify it. Unite me to your charming sister; accept the hand of Lady Emily in return—her heart I have discover'd to be yours—We'll leave the world to the sordid and the tasteless; let an Alscrip, or, a Sir Clement Flint, wander after the fantom of happiness, we shall find her real retreat, and hold her by the bonds she covets, virtue, love and friendship.

Clifford.Not a word more, my lord; the bars against your proposal are insuperable.

Lord Gayville.What bars?

Clifford.Honour! propriety—and pride.

Lord Gayville.Pride, Clifford?

Clifford.Yes, my Lord; Harriet Clifford, shall not steal the hand of a prince; nor will I—tho' doating on Lady Emily, with a passion like your own, bear the idea of a clandestine union in a family, to whom I am bound by obligation and trust. Indeed, my lord, without Sir Clement's consent, you must think no more of my sister.

Lord Gayville.Stern Stoic, but I will, and not clandestinely; I'll instantly to Sir Clement.

Clifford.Do not be rash—Fortune or some bet­ter agent, is working in wonders—Meet me pre­sently at your Uncle's; in the mean while promise not to stir in this business.

Lord Gayville.What hope from delay.

Clifford.Promise———

Lord Gayville.I am in a state to catch at sha­dows—I'll try to obey you.