What should hinder?
'Twould but detain you for an hour or two.

OLNEY.
My pupils stand between. Yet Isabelle
Might hear the recitations; she does this
Often, when I am ill. A dear, good child:
She thinks her learning of no more account,
Save as the means to help me in my tasks,
Than though she only could her sampler sew
Yet she reads Latin like a master, and
In Greek bids fair to be a Lizzy Carter.
If she but knew I was detained--

BELCOUR.
A note
Would tell her this. Write one, and I will send it.
Here's paper, pencil--
[_Taking them from his pocket, OLNEY writes._

OLNEY.
I shall trouble you.

BELCOUR.
No trouble in the least. Now, hurry on.
The court-room will be filled. I'll send the note--
_[Exit OLNEY._

Or bear it, rather. She shall see me, too
Before she has the letter from my hand.
A proud, ungrateful girl:--reject my love!
[_Turns to go out_.

_Enter_ CAPTAIN PAWLETT

PAWLETT
How, Belcour--what's the matter? You go wrong.
'Tis to the court-house all the world is going.

BELCOUR (_impetuously_).
Let the world go its way, and me go mine
We've parted company, the world and I.
When Fortune frowns, the wretch is left alone

PAWLETT.
Ah! true--I've heard of some embarrassments--

BELCOUR.
Embarrassments!--A puling, milliner phrase!
One of those tender terms we coin to throw
A sentimental interest round the bankrupt;--
As though he may recover if he choose.
Why, Pawlett, man, I'm ruined, if the plan
I've formed to-day should fail. It shall not fail.
I will succeed. And Isabelle once mine,
With cash to bear us to a foreign land,
I care not for the rest, though death and hell
Should stand at the goal to seize me.
[_Exit violently_.

PAWLETT (_looking after him_).
The fool!
He's in a furious mood--and let him rave--
He'll never win his way with Isabelle.
My chances there are better, but not good.
Young Bolton's in my way. He loves her well;
And she, I fear, loves him. But then his father
Is proud