Act 4 — SCENE I.—O’Dedimus’s office—Enter Charles pulling in Ponder by the collar.

Char. This way, sirrah, this way, and now out with your confession, if you expect mercy at my hands.

Pon. I will, sir, I will: but I expect no mercy at your hands, for you’ve already handled me most unmercifully—(Charles shakes him) what would you please to have me confess, sir?

Char. I have seen old Abel Grouse—he has told me the story of his daughter’s marriage with this amiable cousin of mine: now, sirrah, confess the truth—were you present, or were you not? out with it (shakes him).

Pon. Now pray recollect yourself—do, sir—think a little.

Char. Recollect myself?

Pon. Ay, sir, if you will but take time to reflect, you’ll give me time to collect my scattered thoughts, which you have completely shaken out of my pericranium.

Char. No equivocation, answer directly, or though you’re no longer my servant, by heavens I’ll—

Pon. Sir—for heaven’s sake!—you’ll shake nothing more out of me, depend on’t—if you’ll be pleased to pause a moment, I’ll think of an answer.

Charles. It requires no recollection to say whether you were a witness—

Pon. No indeed, sir, ask my master if I was; besides if I had been, my conscience wouldn’t let me disclose it.

Charles. Your conscience! good, and you’re articled to an attorney!

Pon. True, sir, but there’s a deal of conscience in our office; if my master knew I betrayed his secrets even to you, I believe (in conscience,) he’d hang me if he could.

Charles. If my old friend O’Dedimus proves a rogue at last, I shan’t wonder that you have followed his example.

Pon. No, sir, for I always follow my master’s example, even though it should be in the path of roguery; compliment apart sir, I always followed yours.

Charles. Puppy, you trifle with my patience.

Pon. No indeed, sir, I never play with edg’d tools.

Charles. You wont acknowledge it then.

Pon. Yes, sir, I’ll acknowledge the truth, but I scorn a lie.

Charles. ’Tis true I always thought you honest. I have ever trusted you, Ponder, even as a friend: I do not believe you capable of deceiving me.

Pon. Sir, (gulping) I can’t swallow that! it choaks me (falling on his knees); forgive me, dear master that was; your threats I could withstand, your violence I could bear, but your kindness and good opinion there is no resisting; promise you wont betray me.

Charles. So; now it comes. I do.

Pon. Then, sir, the whole truth shall out, they are married, sir, and they are not married, sir.

Charles. Enigma too!

Pon. Yes, sir, they are married, but the priest was ordained by my master, and the license was of his own granting, and so they are not married, and now the enigma’s explained.

Charles. Your master then is a villain!

Pon. I don’t know, sir, that puzzles me: but he’s such an honest follow I can hardly think him a rogue—though I fancy, sir, between ourselves, he’s like the rest of the world, half and half, or like punch, sir, a mixture of opposites.

Charles. So! villany has been thriving in my absence. If you feel the attachment you profess why did you not confide this to me before?

Pon. Sir, truth to speak, I did not tell you, because, knowing the natural gentleness of your disposition, which I have so often admired, I was alarmed, lest the sudden shock should cause one of those irascible fits, which I have so often witnessed, and produce some of those shakes and buffets, which to my unspeakable astonishment, I have so often experienced.

Charles. And which, I can tell you, you have now so narrowly escaped.

Pon. True sir, I have escaped as narrowly as a felon who gets his reprieve five minutes after execution.

Charles. Something must be done. I am involved in a quarrel with Helen too! curse on my irritable temper.

Pon. So I say, sir—try and mend it; pray do.

Charles. I am resolved to have another interview with her;—to throw myself at her feet, and sue for pardon! Though fate should oppose our union, I may still preserve her from the arms of a villain, who is capable of deceiving the innocent he could not seduce: and of planting a dagger in the female heart, where nature has bestowed her softest attributes, and has only left it weak, that man might cherish, shelter, and protect it. [Exit.

Pon. So! now I’m a rogue both ways—If I escape punishment one way, I shall certainly meet it the other. But if my good luck saves me both ways I shall never more credit a fortune-teller: for one once predicted, that I was born to be hanged. [Exit.