Chapter VI: Act V: SCENE I. The Prison

Haswell _and the female Prisoner discovered_.

_Haswell._ Rather remain in this loathsome prison!--refuse the blessing offered you!--the blessing your pleased fancy formed so precious you durst not even trust its reality!

_Pris._ No--while my pleased _fancy_ only saw the prospect, I own it was delightful; but now reason beholds it within my reach, the view is changed--and what, in the gay dream of fond delirium, seemed a blessing, in my waking hours of sad reflection would prove the most severe of punishments.

_Has._ Explain--what is the cause that makes you think thus?

_Pris._ A cause that has alone for fourteen years made me resigned to a fate like this.--When you first mentioned my release from this drear place, my wild ideas included, with the light, all that had ever made the light a blessing--'twas not the _sun_ I saw in my mad transport, but a lost husband filled my roving fancy--'twas his idea that gave the colours of the world their beauty, and made me fondly hope to grasp its sweets.

_Has._ A husband!

_Pris._ But the world that I was wont to enjoy with him--to see again without him--every well-known object would wound my mind with dear remembrances for ever lost, and make my freedom torture.

_Has._ But yet----

_Pris._ Oh! on my knees a thousand times I have thanked Heaven that _he_ partook not of this dire abode--that he shared not with me my hard usage!--a greater blessing I possess'd from that, than all his loved society cou'd have given--but in a happy world, where smiling nature pours her boundless gifts!--oh! there his loss wou'd be unsufferable.

_Has._ Do you lament him dead?

_Pris._ Yes--or, like me, a prisoner--else he wou'd have sought me out--have sought his Arabella!--[Haswell _starts_.]--Why do you start?

_Has._ Are you a Christian?--an European?

_Ara._ I am.

_Has._ The name made me suppose it.--I am shocked that----the Christian's sufferings--[_Trying to conceal his surprise._]--but were you made a prisoner in the _present_ Sultan's reign?

_Ara._ Yes, or I had been set free on his ascent to the throne; for he gave pardon to all the enemies of the slain monarch: but I was taken in a vessel, where I was hurried in the heat of the battle with a party of the late Emperor's friends--and all the prisoners were by the officers of the present Sultan sent to slavery, or confined, as I have been, in hopes of ransom from their friends.

_Has._ And did never intelligence or inquiry reach you from your husband?

_Ara._ Never.

_Has._ Never?

_Ara._ I once was informed of a large reward for the discovery of a female Christian, and, with boundless hopes, asked an interview with the messenger; but found, on inquiry, _I_ could not answer his description, as he _secretly_ informed me it was the Sultan who made the search for one _he himself_ had known and dearly loved.

_Has._ Good Heaven!--[_Aside._]--You then conclude your husband dead?

_Ara._ I do;--or, like me, by some mischance, taken with the other party, and having no friend to plead his cause before the Emperor, whom he served----

_Has._ _I_'ll plead it--should I ever chance to find him--but, ere we can hope for other kindness, you must appear before the Sultan--thank him for the favour which you now decline, and tell the cause why you cannot accept it.

_Ara._ Alas! almost worn out with sorrow--an object of affliction as I am--in pity, excuse me--present my thanks--my humble gratitude--but pardon my attendance.

_Has._ Nay, you must go--it is necessary--I will accompany you to him.--Retire a moment; but when I send, be ready.

_Ara._ I shall obey. [_She bows obediently, and exit._

[_As_ Haswell _comes down_, Elvirus _places himself in
his path_--Haswell _stops, looks at him with an austere
earnestness, which_ Elvirus _observing, turns away his face_.

_Elv._ Nay, reproach me--I can bear your anger, but do not let me meet your eye--Oh! it is more awful, now I know who you are, than if you had kingdoms to disperse, or could deal instant death.--[Haswell _looks on him with a manly firmness, then walks on_, Elvirus _following him_.]--I do not plead for my father now.--Since what has passed, I only ask forgiveness.

_Has._ Do you forgive yourself?

_Elv._ I never will.

_Enter_ Keeper.

_Keep._ One of our prisoners, who, in his cell, makes the most pitious moans, has sent to entreat that Mr. Haswell will not leave this place till he has heard his complaints and supplications.

_Has._ Bring me to him. [_Going._

_Elv._ Nay, leave me not thus--perhaps never to see you more!----

_Has._ You shall see me again--in the mean time, reflect on what you merit. [_Exit with_ Keeper.

_Elv._ And what is that?--Confusion!--and yet, he says, I am to see him again--speak with him.--Oh! there's a blessing to the most abandoned, a divine propensity (they know not why) to commune with the virtuous! [_Exit._

SCENE II. _The first Prison Scene._

_Enter second_ Keeper, Haswell _following_.

_Has._ Where is the poor unfortunate?

_2d Keep._ Here, Sir.

_Has._ Am I to behold greater misery still?--a still greater object of compassion?

[_Second_ Keeper _opens a door, and_ Twineall _enters a
prisoner, in one of the prison dresses_.

_Has._ What have we here?

_Twi._ Don't you know me, Mr. Haswell?

_Has._ I beg your pardon, Sir--I beg your pardon--but is it?--is it?----

_Twi._ Why, Mr. Haswell--if you don't know me, or won't know me, I shall certainly lose my senses.

_Has._ O, I know you--know you very well.

_Twi._ What, notwithstanding the alteration in my dress?--there was a hard thing!

_Has._ O, I'll procure you that again--and, for all things else, I'm sure you will have patience.

_Twi._ O, no, I can't--upon my soul I can't.--I want a little lavender water--My hair is in such a trim too!--No powder--no brushes----

_Has._ I will provide you with them all.

_Twi._ But who will you provide to look at me, when I am dress'd?

_Has._ I'll bring all your acquaintance.

_Twi._ I had rather you wou'd take me to see them.

_Has._ Pardon me.

_Twi._ Dear Mr. Haswell!--Dear Sir!--Dear friend!--What shall I call you?--Only say what title you like best, and I'll call you by it directly--I always did love to please every body--and I am sure at this time I stand more in need of a friend than ever I did in my life.

_Has._ What has brought you here?

_Twi._ Trying to get a place.

_Has._ A place?

_Twi._ Yes; and you see I have got one--and a poor place it is!--in short, Sir, my crime is said to be an offence against the state; and they tell me no friend on earth but you can get that remitted.

_Has._ Upon my word, the pardons I have obtained are for so few persons--and those already promised----

_Twi._ O, I know I am no favourite of yours--you think me an impertinent, silly, troublesome fellow, and that my conduct in life will be neither of use to my country nor of benefit to society.

_Has._ You mistake me, Sir--I think such glaring imperfections as yours will not be of so much disadvantage to society as those of a less-faulty man.--In beholding your conduct, thousands shall turn from the paths of folly, to which fashion, custom, nature, (or call it what you will) impels them;--therefore, Mr. Twineall, if not pity for your faults, yet a concern for the good effect they may have upon the world (shou'd you be admitted there again) will urge me to solicit your return to it.

_Twi._ Sir, you have such powers of oratory--what a prodigious capital quality!--and I doubt not but you are admired by the world equally for that----

_Enter_ Messenger _to_ Haswell.

_Mess._ Sir, the Sultan is arrived in the council chamber, and has sent me. [_Whispers._

_Has._ I come.--Mr. Twineall, farewell for the present. [_Exit with_ Messenger.

_Twi._ Now, what was that whisper about?--Oh, heavens! perhaps my death in agitation.--I have brought myself into a fine situation!--done it by wheedling too!

_2d Keep._ Come, your business with Mr. Haswell being ended, return to your cell. [_Roughly._

_Twi._ Certainly, Sir--certainly!--O, yes!--How happy is this prison in having such a keeper as you!--so mild, so gentle--there is something about you,--I said, and I thought the moment I had the _happiness_ of meeting you here,--Dear me!--what wou'd one give for such a gentleman as him in England!--You wou'd be of infinite service to some of our young bucks, Sir.

_2d Keep._ Go to your cell--go to your cell. [_Roughly._

_Twi._ This world wou'd be nothing without elegant manners, and elegant people in all stations of life.--[_Enter_ Messenger, _who whispers second_ Keeper.]--Another whisper! [_Terrified._

_2d Keep._ No; come this way.--The judge is now sitting in the hall, and you must come before him.

_Twi._ Before the judge, Sir--O, dear Sir!--what, in this deshabille?--in this coat?--Dear me!--but to be sure one must conform to customs--to the custom of the country where one is.--[_He goes to the door, and then stops._]--I beg your pardon, Sir--wou'd not you chuse to go first?

_2d Keep._ No.

_Twi._ O! [_Exeunt._

SCENE III. _The Council Chamber._

_Enter_ Sultan, Haswell, _and_ Guards.

_Has._ Sultan, I have out-run your bounty in my promises; and one poor, unhappy female----

_Sul._ No--you named yourself the number to release, and it is fixed--I'll not increase it.

_Has._ A poor, miserable female----

_Sul._ Am I less miserable than she is?--And who shall release me from my sorrows?

_Has._ Then let me tell you, Sultan, she is above your power to oblige, or to punish.--Ten years, nay more, confinement in a drear cell has been no greater punishment to her, than had she lived in a pleasant world without the man she loved.

_Sul._ Hah!

_Has._ And freedom offered she rejects with scorn, because he is not included in the blessing.

_Sul._ You talk of prodigies!--[_He makes a sign for the Guards to retire, and they exit._]--and yet I once knew a heart equal to this description.

_Has._ Nay, will you see her?--Witness yourself the fact?

_Sul._ Why do I tremble?--My busy fancy presents an image----

_Has._ Yes, tremble, indeed! [_Threatening._

_Sul._ Hah! have a care--what tortures are you preparing for me?--My mind shrinks at the idea.

_Has._ Your wife you will behold--whom you have kept in want, in wretchedness, in a damp dungeon, for these fourteen years, because you wou'd not listen to the voice of pity.----Dread her look--her frown--not for herself alone, but for hundreds of her fellow sufferers--and while your selfish fancy was searching, with wild anxiety, for her _you_ loved, unpitying, you forgot others might love like you.

_Sul._ O! do not bring me to a trial which I have not courage to support.

_Has._ She attends without--I sent for her to thank you for the favour she declines.--Nay, be composed--she knows _you_ not--cannot, thus disguised as the Sultan. [_Exit_ Haswell.

_Sul._ Oh! my Arabella! could I have thought that your approach wou'd ever impress my mind with horror!--or that, instead of flying to your arms with all the love I bear you, terror and dread shou'd fix me a statue of remorse.

_Enter_ Haswell, _leading_ Arabella.

_Has._ Here kneel, and return your thanks.

_Sul._ My Arabella! worn with grief and anguish! [_Aside._

_Ara._ [_Kneeling to the_ Sultan.] Sultan, the favour you wou'd bestow, I own, and humbly thank you for.

_Sul._ Gracious Heaven! [_In much agitation._

_Ara._ But as I am now accustomed to confinement, and the idea of all the world can give, cannot inspire a wish that warms my heart to the enjoyment--I supplicate permission to transfer the blessing you have offered, to one of those who may have friends to welcome their return from bondage, and so make freedom precious.--I have none to rejoice at _my_ release--none to lament my destiny while a prisoner.--And were I free, in this vast world (forlorn and friendless) 'tis but a prison still.

_Sul._ What have I done?--[_Throwing himself on a sopha with the greatest emotion._

_Has._ Speak to him again.--He repents of the severity with which he has caused his fellow creatures to be used.--Tell him _you_ forgive him.

_Ara._ [_Going to him._] Believe me, Emperor, I forgive all who have ever wronged me--all who have ever caused my sufferings.--Pardon _you_!--Alas! I have pardoned even those who tore me from my husband!--Oh, Sultan! all the tortures you have made me suffer, compared to such a pang as that--did I say I had forgiven it?--Oh! I am afraid--afraid I have not yet.

_Sul._ Forgive it now, then, for he is restored.--[_Taking off his turban._]--Behold him in the Sultan, and once more seal his pardon.--[_She faints on_ Haswell.]--Nay, pronounce it quickly, or my remorse for what you have undergone, will make my present tortures greater than any my cruelties have ever yet inflicted.

_Ara._ [_Recovering._] Is this the light you promised?--[_To_ Haswell.]--Dear precious light!--Is this my freedom? to which I bind myself a slave for ever.--[_Embracing the_ Sultan.]--Was I _your_ captive?--Sweet captivity!--more precious than an age of liberty!

_Sul._ Oh, my Arabella! through the amazing changes of my fate, (which I will soon disclose) think not but I have searched for _thee_ with unceasing care; but the blessing to behold you once again was left for my kind monitor alone to bestow.----Oh, Haswell! had I, like you, made others' miseries my concern, like you sought out the wretched, how many days of sorrow had I spared myself as well as others--for I long since had found my Arabella.

_Ara._ Oh, Heaven! that weighest our sufferings with our joys, and as our lives decline seest in the balance thy blessings far more ponderous than thy judgements--be witness, I complain no more of what I have endured, but find an ample recompence this moment.

_Has._ I told you, Sir, how you might be happy.

_Sul._ ----Take your reward--(to a heart like yours, more valuable than treasure from my coffers)--this signet, with power to redress the _wrongs_ of all who suffer.

_Has._ Valuable indeed!----

_Ara._ [_To_ Haswell.] Oh, virtuous man!--to reward _thee_ are we made happy--to give thy pitying bosom the joy to see us so, has Heaven remitted its intended punishment of continued separation.

_Sul._ Come, my beloved wife!--come to my palace--there, equally, my dearest blessing, as when the cottage gave its fewer joys--and in him [_To_ Haswell.] we not only find our present happiness, but dwell securely on our future hopes--for here, I vow, before he leaves our shores, I will adopt every measure he shall point out--and that period of my life whereon he shall lay his censure, that will I fix apart for penitence.--[_Exit_ Sultan _and_ Arabella.--Haswell _bows to Heaven with thanks_.

_Enter_ Keeper.

_Keep._ An English prisoner, just now condemned to lose his head, one Henry Twineall, humbly begs permission to speak a few short sentences, his last dying words, to Mr. Haswell.

_Has._ Condemned to lose his head?--Lead me to him.

_Keep._ O, Sir, you need not hurry yourself--it is off by this time, I dare say.

_Has._ Off?

_Keep._ Yes, Sir--we don't stand long about these things in this country--I dare say it is off.

_Has._ [_Impatiently._] Lead me to him instantly.

_Guard._ O! 'tis of consequence, is it, Sir?--if that is the case---- [_Exit_ Keeper, _followed by_ Haswell.

SCENE IV. _An arch-way at the top of the stage, through which several Guards enter_--Twineall _in the middle, dressed for execution, with a large book in his hand_.

_Twi._ One more verse, gentlemen, if you please.

_Off._ The time is expired.

_Twi._ One more, gentlemen, if you please.

_Off._ The time is expired.

_Enter_ Haswell.

_Twi._ Oh! my dear Mr. Haswell! [_Bursting into tears._

_Has._ What, in tears at parting with me?--This is a compliment indeed!

_Twi._ I hope you take it as such--I am sure I mean it as such.--It kills me to leave _you_--it breaks my heart;--and I once flattered myself such a charitable, good, feeling, humane heart as you possess----

_Has._ Hold! Hold!--This, Mr. Twineall, is the vice which has driven you to the fatal precipice whereon you are--and in death will you not relinquish it?

_Twi._ What vice, Sir, do you mean?

_Has._ Flattery!--a vice that renders you not only despicable, but odious.

_Twi._ But how has flattery been the cause?

_Has._ Your English friend, before he left the island, told me what information you had asked from him, and that he had given you the direct _opposite_ of every person's character, as a just punishment for your mean premeditation and designs.

_Twi._ I never imagined that amiable friend had sense enough to impose upon any body!

_Has._ Yet I presume, he could not suppose fate wou'd have carried their resentment to a length like this.

_Twi._ Oh! cou'd fate be arrested in its course!

_Has._ You wou'd reform your conduct?

_Twi._ I wou'd--I wou'd never say another civil thing to any body--never--never make myself agreeable again.

_Has._ Release him--here is the Sultan's signet. [_They release him._

_Twi._ Oh! my dear Mr. Haswell! never was compassion!--never benevolence!--never such a heart as yours!----

_Has._ Sieze him--he has broken his contract already.

_Twi._ No, Sir--No, Sir--I protest you are an illnatured, surly, crabbed fellow. I always thought so, upon my word, whatever I have said.

_Has._ And, I'll forgive _that_ meaning, sooner than the other--utter any thing but flattery--Oh! never let the honest, plain, _blunt_ English name, become a proverb for so base a vice.--

_Lady Tre._ [_Without._] Where is the poor creature?

_Enter Lady_ Tremor.

_Lady._ Oh! if his head is off, pray let me _look_ at it?----

_Twi._ No, Madam, it is on--and I am very happy to be able to tell you so.----

_Lady._ Dear Heaven!--I expected to have seen it off!--but no matter--as it is on--I am come that it may be kept on--and have brought my Lord Flint, and Sir Luke, as witnesses.

_Enter_ Lord, Aurelia, _and_ Sir Luke.

_Has._ Well, Madam, and what have they to say?

_Sir Luke._ Who are we to tell our story to?--There does not seem to be any one fitting in judgement.--

_Has._ Tell it to me, Sir--I will report it.

_Sir Luke._ Why then, Mr. Haswell, as Ghosts sometimes walk--and as one's conscience is sometimes troublesome--I think Mr. Twineall has done nothing to merit death, and the charge which his Lordship sent in against him, we begin to think too severe--but, if there was any false statement----

_Lord._ It was the fault of my not charging my memory--any error I have been guilty of, must be laid to the fault of my total want of memory.

_Has._ And what do you hope from this confession?

_Sir Luke._ To remit the prisoner's punishment of death to something less, if the Sultan will please to annul the sentence.

_Lord._ Yes--and grant ten or twelve years imprisonment--or the Gallies for fourteen years--or----

_Sir Luke._ Ay, ay, something in that way.

_Has._ For shame--for shame--Gentlemen!--the extreme rigour you shew in punishing a dissension from your opinion, or a satire upon your folly, proves to conviction, what reward you had bestowed upon the _skilful_ flatterer.

_Twi._ Gentlemen and Ladies, pray why wou'd you wish me requited with such extreme severity, merely for my humble endeavours to make myself agreeable?--Lady Tremor, upon my honour I was credibly informed, your ancestors were Kings of Scotland.

_Lady._ Impossible!--you might as well say that you heard Sir Luke had distinguished himself at the battle of----

_Twi._ And, I _did_ hear so.

_Lady._ And he _did_ distinguish himself; for he was the only one that ran away.

_Twi._ Cou'd it happen?

_Lady._ Yes, Sir, it did happen.

_Sir Luke._ And go _you_, Mr. Twineall, into a field of battle, and I think it is very likely to happen again.

_Lord._ If Mr. Haswell has obtained your pardon, Sir, it is all very well--but let me advise you to keep your sentiments on politics to yourself, for the future--as you value that pretty head of yours.

_Twi._ I thank you, Sir--I do value it.

_Enter_ Elvirus.

_Has._ [_Going to him._] Aurelia, in this letter to me, has explained your story with so much compassion, that, for her sake, I must pity it too.--With freedom to your father, and yourself, the Sultan restores his forfeited lands--and might I plead, Sir Luke, for your interest with Aurelia's friends, this young man's filial love, shou'd be repaid by conjugal affection.

_Sir Luke._ As for that, Mr. Haswell, you have so much interest at court, that your taking the young man under your protection----besides, as Aurelia was sent hither merely to get a husband--I don't see----

_Aur._ True, Sir Luke--and I am afraid my father and mother will begin to be uneasy that I have not got one yet--and I shou'd be very sorry to disoblige them.

_Elv._ No--say rather, sorry to make me wretched.--[_Taking her hand._

_Enter_ Zedan.

_Has._ My Indian friend, have you received your freedom?

_Zed._ Yes--and come to bid you farewell--which I wou'd _never_ do, had I not a family in wretchedness till my return--for you shou'd be my master, and I _wou'd_ be your slave.----

_Has._ I thank you--may you meet at home every comfort!

_Zed._ May you--may you--what shall I say?--May you once in your life be a prisoner--then released--to feel such joy, as I feel now!----

_Has._ I thank you for a wish, that tells me most emphatically, how much you think I have served you.

_Twi._ And, my dear Lord, I sincerely wish you may once in your life, have your head chopped off--just to know what I shou'd have felt, in that situation.----

_Zed._ [_Pointing to_ Haswell.] Are all his country-men as good as he?

_Sir Luke._ No-no-no-no--not _all_--but the worst of them are good enough to admire him.

_Twi._ Pray Mr. Haswell, will you suffer all these encomiums?

_Elv._ He _must_ suffer them--there are virtues, which praise cannot taint--such are Mr. Haswell's--for they are the offspring of a mind, superior even to the love of fame--neither can they, through malice, suffer by applause, since they are too sacred to incite envy, and must conciliate the respect, the love, and the admiration of all.

FINIS.