_Augusta._ Dear Sir!

_Philip._ Well--Fashion, ceremony, all that we will lay aside. Have some parts of my behaviour here been such as you cannot approve?--it was by chance only. Nay, there was no one whom I could please, by behaving otherwise.

_Mrs. D._ We will pa.s.s that; though such behaviour takes from the pleasures of society.

_Philip_ [with warmth]. I have high ideas of the pleasures of society.

_Mrs. D._ And yet you do not contribute your share?

_Philip_ [with agitation]. Ah! there, indeed--

_Mrs. D._ You take delight in misanthropical retirement.

_Philip._ Oh, if you knew my feelings! my good will for mankind, as G.o.d knows it--I--it is hard to need a defence in this particular--But, I can calmly and truly say, I love mankind. But, if my compa.s.sion for their unhappy fate has been ridiculed, and if this abuse of my dearest feelings has made me reserved, does it follow that I am a misanthrope?

_Mrs. D._ Mr. Brook!

_Philip._ If my ideas of good company are too refined, too just, too high, to be satisfied in the slandering circles of coquettes, dunces, and gamblers, am I to be called unsociable?

_Augusta_ [quickly]. Oh, no, my good friend.

_Philip._ If, in any profession, for which my talents might qualify me, the best wishes of my heart would be checked by interested connections--my enthusiasm for suffering mankind, opposed by uncharitable selfishness--can you blame me for remaining as I am?

_Augusta._ Certainly not.

_Philip._ And now, my ardent zeal for human happiness being mistaken, the best designs of my heart condemned and overthrown by prejudice and self-conceit; perceiving that the most admired and virtuous outsides were too often only masks for hypocrisy--that impure avarice stalked abroad under the name of philanthrophy--perceiving this, I drew back, and forgot a flattering dream, of successful attention to the welfare of all the unfortunate wanderers upon earth.--Yet soon--in one serious hour, I hope to discharge the debt of a citizen to my native land--in one hour; yes, only one--but the deed will mark it.--Till that hour, I shall proceed in silence; endeavour, if possible, to be calm; and seek my comfort in friendship and a good conscience. The sneers of the superficial, the senseless judgments of a seduced mult.i.tude, shall not rob me of a moment's tranquillity.

_Mrs. D._ Forgive me, Sir! I mistook your character.

_Augusta._ I feel the truth of your remarks. May domestic happiness afford you the reward which you are refused by the world!

_Philip._ Do you wish me that, Augusta?

_Augusta._ Yes, my n.o.ble friend! I esteem you, and have still more reason to wish it heartily.

_Philip_ [joyfully]. You have?--[pause]. My desires lie in a narrow compa.s.s. My fortune allows me to a.s.sist others; I have a friend, with whom I share my joys and my sorrows; and now, all is heightened by the emotions of love.

_Mrs. D._ You love?

_Philip._ Yes.

_Augusta._ And happily?

_Philip._ I know not yet.--My love may increase, but can never diminish--[he approaches Augusta]--Augusta, I love you.

_Augusta._ How?

_Mrs. D._ My daughter?

_Philip._ Make me happy: 'tis in your power.

_Augusta._ Oh! good heaven! 'tis too much!

_Philip_ [hastily, but tenderly taking her hand]. Speak! I am serious, in high emotion--be gentle, Augusta.

_Augusta_ [leaning on her mother; without withdrawing her hand]. Oh!

mother!

_Mrs. D._ What shall I say?

_Augusta_ [forcibly]. I love--your brother!

_Philip_ [deeply moved]. In vain! he--[looking at Augusta] while here--[lets go her hand] Be happy! [going.]

_Mrs. D._ Brook! for G.o.d's sake!

_Augusta._ My n.o.ble suffering friend, why on me----

_Philip._ Let me go!--

_Augusta._ Leave me not without hopes, that all the affection of a brother, of a sister, may content you.

_Philip._ I can no more----

_Augusta._ Do not leave me, till you know how much I value----

_Philip._ Upon you I had placed my hopes. You would have endeared life to me again.--The dream is fled.--Well--I will hide my sufferings in retirement, and wait with patience for the hour which shall end all my afflictions.

[Exeunt omnes.

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

_ACT III._

SCENE I.

At the Chancellor's.

The CHANCELLOR and a CLERK entering on different sides.

_Chancellor._ I was looking for you. What news?

_Clerk._ Every thing goes on very well, Sir.