Cit. Well, is that all? Fr. No, indeed; my man writes me word, that in two or three days after Sir Richard had been there, he heard that my wife was gone away from Sir Richard's, and that she was gone away in a disgust. It seems the nurse had a mind to go and see her mistress, and she takes the two children with her, not doubting but her mistress would be glad to see the children; and away she goes with them to Sir Richard's; when she came to the house, Sir Richard seeing her, began thus: Sir R. Well, nurse, what are you come for? What, are you turned out of doors as well as your mistress? Nurse. No, and please your worship, I am not turned out of doors, nor my mistress was not turned out of doors neither. I hope nobody has told your worship such a story. Sir R. No, no, I do but jest; but this I'll tell you in earnest, if she was not turned out of doors, she very well deserved it, nurse. Nurse. God bless your worship, I hope it will be all over and well again; my master is gone to London, and if my mistress would be pleased to come home now, my master is so good humoured a gentleman, I am sure before he comes again it would be all forgot. Sir R. Your master, nurse! Aye, he is too good for her; it is a pity she has not a worse husband, and he a better wife, then both would have their due. Nurse. God bless your worship, persuade my mistress to come home; here are two pretty innocent babies, what will become of them? It breaks my heart to think of them, and please your worship. Lord bless us! how can my mistress forget her own children so? Sir R. I persuade your mistress, nurse! your mistress is a brute, she is a devil incarnate; I'll have nothing to do with her. Nurse. Oh, dear, and please your worship do not say so ; she is your worship's own sister. Sir R. Aye, aye, nurse, I know it, and she is never the better for that neither. [Here he fetched a deep sigh, and said, aside, we are a cursed hellish brood.] Nurse. But I have brought the two children, and please your worship; it may be, when my mistress sees them again, she will be persuaded. Sir R. Her children! She values her children no more than if they were a couple of calves from one of her milch cows. She is without natural affection, woman, do not you see it? If she had had any love for her own children, could she have left them as she has done. Nurse. And please your worship, I hope she loves them though, for all that; what have the poor babes done? The eldest is not two years old; to be sure my mistress loves them dearly, and please your worship. Sir R. Yes, to be sure; pray, has she sent any body to see how they did since she came away? Nurse. Why, indeed, no, and please your worship, and we all wonder. Bless us all! and please your worship, it is a sad thing. Sir R. I tell you, she neither regards God or the devil; she neither has natural religion or natural affection; she does not value both her children so much as 1 do that hound. Nurse. Oh, and please your worship, do not say so; I'll go and see my mistress, an' your worship pleases to give me leave. [Nurse offers to go into the house.] Sir R. Why, you old fool, where are you going? your mistress is not here. Nurse. Not here, Sir! for the Lord's sake, an' please your worship, not here! my mistress not here! an' please your worship, where is my mistress? She was here; I hope your worship is but in jest. Sir R. No, indeed, nurse, I am not in jest, she is gone; 1 have ridded my house of her, and never desire to see her within my doors again, till she has changed her life. Nurse. Where is she gone, an' please your worship? [Nurse falls a crying, and Sir Richard's lady hearing of her, sends a servant to fetch her and the children in.] Sir R. I know nothing of her. This dialogue between Sir Richard and old nurse has much more in it, to be sure, than 1 know of yet. Cit. No doubt but it has. Fr. But my man writes me too, that the next day my wife came home; at which they were all surprised; that she went up into the nursery to the children, and went into her own chamber, but could not get into her closet, or into several other rooms which I had locked up. It is true, 1 had left the keys with the servant that writes; but as she did not ask him for them, and 1 had not ordered him to tell her of it, so she knew nothing of it. Cit. Well, and did she not stay? Fr. No, it seems the nurse cried, and begged of her to stay: the poor old woman fell down on her knees, and begged her to take pity on her two little children, and to stay; and told her, she was sure her master would rejoice to hear of her being come again, and would come home as soon as ever he should know it. But it would not do; she answered coldly, asked when their master would be at home; and they told her, in about a fortnight; so she went away; but, to quiet the nurse, told her, she would come again in two or three days, and stay for good and all. Cit. It is a very odd story; and pray what do what do you intend to do in it? Fr. Do! I must go home as fast as I can, though I leave my business undone, and come again; for I have no patience to think of my wife being left to wander I know not where, now she has quarrelled with her brother. Cit. Why, what will you do? Will you submit to her? Fr. Aye, I'll do any thing to bring her home; I'll go te her wherever she is; and if all the entreaties in the world will move her, I'll never leave her till I get her home. Cit. You are only the best husband in England. Fr. And she will be the best wife in England, if it pleases God to restore her from this unhappy condition; if she continues thus, she is ruined soul and body, and I cannot bear to let her perish, and not use all possible endeavours to reclaim her. I cannot believe but her passion is cooled and abated before this; perhaps Sir Richard has been too hot with her, and put her into a fret; I will take the contrary course it is my duty to bear with her passions and mistakes, her brother is not under the same obligation; my affections lead me to all the tender methods I can take, he is not under the same influence; my concern is for her soul, and for her children, he is not touched that way yet: in a word, he is her brother, but I am her husband; he is a relation to her, but I am part of her; he is of her family, but I am herself. And though I do not reflect on him for want of success, for I dare say he wishes well to us both; yet I cannot doubt of success myself. Therefore I am resolved to go and find her out, and never leave her till I have made her my own again; she shall have a heart of stone if she refuses me. [They part, and his friend took horse the next day, and went home; what followed will be told in the next dialogue.] THE THIRD DIALOGUE. When Sir Richard and his brother-in-law parted, neither of them had entertained any notion of what might be, much less of what wás, the consequence of the discourse which the knight afterwards had with his sister; the gentleman went away for London, as is expressed in the former part; Sir Richard having first made him promise not to send to, or take any notice of his wife before he went, but to leave that matter entirely to him. In the mean time, his sister having sent Sir Richard's lady's maid to her house for clothes and linen, was very busy in inquiring of her who she had seen? how her two children did? and every now and then a little inquiry would come in, what, did you not see Mr.? meaning her husband. The servant said nothing at first, but made as if she had been busy about the things she had brought her, and did not hear; so she began again. Mist. Well, Susan, and did you not see Mr.- was not at home. ? [The maid, seeing no remedy but she must answer, says,] Maid. Yes, Madam, I believe he was at home. Mist. Why, did you see him? Maid. Yes, Madam. Mist. Did he say nothing to you? Maid. Yes, Madam, he said something; but I did not mind it, except what was about our business. Mist. But what did he say, Susan? Maid. He asked what we came about? And you know, Madam, we could not have had the things without asking him, so we told him what we wanted. . Mist. Well, and what said he then? Maid. He said yes, yes, by all means, take whatever she has sent for. Mist. What, did he not ask how I did? Maid. Nothing like it, Madam. Mist. Nor where I was? Maid. No, Madam; I suppose he guessed where you was by our coming. Mist. And was that all he said then? Maid. No, Madam, he bid us take all we could find, for that he was going a journey to London, and should not be |