him a Companion who was, forsooth,
to teach French and the cittern, and who was no other than Captain
Richard, son to the Esquire of the West country, and who was likewise
inveterately pursued by the Usurper. The brother recognised his
sister--to what joy and contentment on both their parts I need not say;
but ere the false Dancing-Master had played his part many days, he fell
madly in love with Arabella Greenville. To her sorrow and wretchedness,
my poor Grandmother returned his Flame. Not that the Lord Francis stands
convicted of any Base Designs upon her. I am afraid that he had been as
wild and as reckless as most of the young nobles of his day; but for
this young woman at least his love was pure and honourable. He made no
secret of it to his fast friend, Captain Richard (my Grand-uncle), who
would soon have crossed swords with the Spark had any villany been
afloat; and he made no more ado, as was the duty of a Brother jealous of
his sister's fair fame, but to write his father word of what had
chanced. The Esquire was half terrified and half flattered by the honour
done to his family by the Lord Francis. The poor young man was under the
very sternest of proscriptions, and it was openly known that if the
Parliament laid hold on him his death was certain. But, on the other
hand, the Esquire loved his daughter above all things; and one short
half-hour, passed with her alone at Hackney, persuaded him that he must
either let Arabella's love-passion have its vent, or break her heart for
ever. And, take my word for it, you foolish parents who would thwart
your children in this the most sacred moment of their lives,--thwart
them for no reasonable cause, but only to gratify your own pride of
purse, avarice, evil tempers, or love of meddling,--you are but
gathering up bunches of nettles wherewith to scourge your own shoulders,
and strewing your own beds with shards and pebbles. Take the advice of
old John Dangerous, who suffered his daughter to marry the man of her
choice, and is happy in the thought that she enjoys happiness; and I
should much wish to know if there be any Hatred in the world so dreadful
as that curdled love, as that reverence decayed, as that obedience in
ruins, you see in a proud haughty daughter married against her will to
one she holds in loathing, and who points her finger, and says within
herself, "My father and mother made me marry that man, and I am
Miserable."

It was agreed amongst those who had mos