SCENE I.
A Saloon inLady Waitfor't'sHouse.
Louisadiscovered reading.
Louisa.Heigho! these poets are wonderfully tiresome—always on the same theme—nothing but love—I'm weary of it. [Lays down the book, and rises.] Ungenerous Neville! how could he use me so cruelly? to attempt to gain my affections, and then address another? Lady Waitfor't has convinced me of the fact,—I can never forgive him: yet, I fear I love him still—well, I'll even go examine my heart, and determine whether I do love him or not.
EnterNeville, as she is going out.
Mr Neville!—I thought, sir, I had desired we might never meet again.
Nev.'Tis true, madam, and I meant to obey your commands, hard as they were, implicitly obey them—but I came hither to welcome my brother, and not to intrude on the happiness of her I am doomed to avoid.
Louisa.If I remember, sir, truth was ever among the foremost of your virtues?
Nev.Yes—and I am confident you have no reason to doubt it—though you have cause to censure my presumption, you have none to suspect my fidelity.
Louisa.Oh no!—I don't suspect your fidelity inthe least, but when people are faithful to more than one, you know, Mr Neville——
Nev.I don't understand you, ma'am.
Louisa.It is no matter, Mr Neville—you may spare yourself any trouble in attempting to justify your conduct—I am perfectly satisfied, sir, I'll assure you.
[Going.
Nev.Oh, do not leave me in this anxious state!—perhaps this is the last time we shall ever meet, and to part thus, would embitter every future moment of my life. Indeed, I have no hopes that concern not your happiness—no wishes that relate not to your esteem.
Louisa.Sir,—I will freely confess to you, had you shown the least perseverance in your affection or sincerity in your behaviour, I could have heard your addresses with pleasure—but to listen to them now, Mr Neville, would be to approve a conduct, my honour prompts me to resent, and my pride to despise.
Nev.Then I am lost indeed!—'Tis to the perfidious Lady Waitfor't I owe all this—my present
EnterLady Waitfor't, behind.
misery—my future pain—are all the product of her jealous rage!—She is so vile a hypocrite, that—
Lady.[Coming forward.] Who is a hypocrite, sir?
Nev.Madam!
Lady.Who is a hypocrite, sir? answer me.
Nev.Ask your own heart, that can best inform you.
Lady.Tell me, Mr Neville, what have I done, that you dare insult me thus?
Nev.What have you done! look on that lady, madam;—there all my hopes and wishes were combined!—There was the very summit of my bliss!—I thought I had attained it; but in the moment of my happiness, you came, crushed every hope, and baffled all my joys.
Lady.Upon my word, sir, very romantic,—but I thank Heaven, I look for approbation in a better opinion than that of Mr Neville's.
Nev.'Tis well you do, madam; for were I your judge, your punishment should be exemplary.—But I'll waste words no more—I only hope [ToLouisa.] you, madam, are satisfied that one of my errors may at least be forgiven, and this last suspicion for ever blotted from your memory.
Lady.Sir,—from that lady's forgiveness you have nothing to expect—if she consents to pardon you, I'll take care my lord never shall.
Nev.No—I do not hope for forgiveness—I have heard her determination; and, cruel as it is, to that I must resign;—she may be assured I never will intrude where I know I offend.
Louisa.Do you then leave us, Mr Neville?
Nev.Yes, madam,—and for ever!—--May you be as blest in the gratification of your hopes as I have been wretched in the disappointment of mine.
[Exit.
Lady.Tyrant! I wish he had stayed to hear reason—I hope he is not serious in leaving us.
Louisa.You hope!—Why does it concern you?
Lady.Oh! no further than from that general love I bear mankind.—You forget my feelings on these occasions, Louisa.
Louisa.Yes, indeed—I have too much reason to attend to my own!—You'll excuse me—I have particular business—I'll return immediately.
[Exit.
Lady.Oh! the cause of her confusion is evident—she loves him still—but they shall never meet again—I have already sent a letter to Willoughby, which imparts a scheme I have long cherished. My lord, in his anger about my stage mania, has forgot Ennui's play; so, that there may be no bars to Willoughby's happiness, I am determined Louisa shall be his this very night.
EnterLord Scratch.
Lord.Here's a spectacle for a peer! Floriville is below, and has returned from his travels a finished coxcomb.—I'll not give him a farthing.
Lady.Nay, my lord, perhaps you may be mistaken.
Lord.Mistaken! no,—he has travelled not to see, but to say he had seen.
EnterMarianne, with a French Watch and Chain.
Mari.Oh, uncle-in-law! look here——I never saw any thing so elegant in all my life.
Lord.Whose present is this?
Mari.Whose!—why the sweet gentleman's just arrived from Italy.—Lord! he's a dear man!—He has promised to do every thing for me—to get me a fortune—to get me a husband—to get me a——
Lord.Hush! you don't know what you are talking about.
Mari.Yes, but I do, though—he has told me every thing—Lord! I have heard such things!—Come here, near—[Lord Scratchgets close to her.] get my aunt out of the room, and I'll tell you stories that shall make your old heart bound again! Hush! do it quietly—I will, upon my honour.—What an old fool it is!
[Aside.
Lady.Marianne, you mustn't listen to Mr Floriville,—for travellers may persuade you into any thing—and many a woman has been ruined in one country, by being told it is the fashion in another.
Lord.Here he comes: I see, as plain as my peerage, I sha'n't keep my temper.
EnterFloriville.
Flor.Ladies, a thousand pardons, for not waiting onyou before, but this is the first vacant moment I have had since my arrival in Bath.
Mari.Sir, your coming at all is taken as a very great compliment, I'll assure you.
Lady.Leave the room immediately—no reply—I will be obeyed—[ToMarianne, who exits.] Mr Floriville, we are very happy to see you.
Flor.Ma'am, you do me honour—my lord, where's Harry?—I thought to have found him here;—what, he didn't chuse to stay?—so much the better—it shows he's not a man of ceremony—we do the same in Italy. But, hark ye, uncle,—is this the lady I'm to call my aunt?
Lord.My gorge is rising: I shall certainly do him a mischief.
Flor.[Spying at her.] Rather experienced or so—a little antique, eh!—however, the same motive that makes her a good aunt to me, will make her a good wife to you—you understand me?
Lord.Dam'me if I do.
Flor.Well, well, no matter—come, I want to hear every thing—to know what remarkable occurrences have happened since I left England.—Pray, Lady Waitfor't, inform me—do let me know every little circumstance.
Lady.Rather, sir, we should ask of you what happened in your travels?
Flor.Oh, nothing so shocking!—no man can be the herald of his own praise.
Lady.Yes, sir,—but I wish to know how you like the Chapel of Loretto, the Venus de Medicis of Florence, the Vatican at Rome, and all the numberless curiosities peculiar to the countries you have travelled through?
Lord.Look ye—I'll answer for it, he knows nothing of the gentlemen you mention—do you, my sweet pretty?—Oh! you damned puppy!
Flor.Why swear, my lord?
Lord.Swear, my lord! Zounds! it's my prerogative, and, by——tell me how you spent your time, sir?
Flor.Why, in contemplating living angels, not dead antiquities;—in basking in the rays of beauty, not mouldering in the dust of ancestry;—in mirth, festivity, and pleasure; not study, pedantry, and retirement.—Oh, I have lived, sir! lived for myself, not an ungrateful world, who, should I die a martyr to their cause, would only laugh and wonder at my folly.
Lady.You seem to know the world, Mr Floriville.
Flor.No, ma'am, I know little of mankind, and less of myself,—I have no pilot, but my pleasures;—no mistress, but my passions;—and I don't believe, if it was to save my life, I could reason consequentially for a minute together.
Lord.Granted:—you have seen every thing worth seeing, yet know nothing worth knowing;—and now you have just knowledge enough to prove yourself a fool on every subject.
Flor.Vastly well, my lord—upon my word, you improve with your title, but I am perfectly satisfied, believe me—for what I don't know, I take for granted is not worth knowing—therefore we'll call another topic.—I'm in love, my lord.
Lord.In love!—with who, sir?
Flor.Can't you guess?
Lord.No, sir, I cannot.
Flor.With one that will please you very much—at least, ought to please you—you'll be in raptures, dear uncle.
Lord.Raptures! and you shall be in agonies, my dear nephew.
Flor.You have known one another a long while, yet you hav'n't met for years—you have loved one another a long while, yet you quarrelled not an hour ago—you have differed from one another all your lives, yet you are likely to be friends as long as you live—and, above all, the person is now in the house.
Lord.In this house! let me know who it is this moment, or by the blood of the Scratches——
Flor.One who has charms enough to set the world on fire;—one who has fortune enough to set a state at war, sir;—one who has talents, health, and prosperity, and yet not half what the person deserves:—can you tell now, sir?
Lord.No, sir, and if you don't tell this instant——
Flor.Then I'll tell you, [Slaps him on the back.] it's myself, sir! my own charming self!—I have searched the world over, and I don't find any thing I like half so well.
[Walks up the stage.
Lord.I won't disgrace myself,—I won't lower the dignity of peerage, by chastising a commoner;—else, you Prince of Butterflies——come, my lady——look ye, sir—I intend to be handed down to posterity; and, while you are being lampooned in ballads and newspapers, I mean to cut a figure in the History of England:—so, come along, my lady—in the History of England, you coxcomb!
[ExeuntLordandLady.
Flor.If the face is the picture of the mind, that intended aunt of mine is a great hypocrite, and the story I heard of the poet proves it.—But now for a frolic—'gad it's very strange I could never reform, and become a serious thinking being—but what's the use of thinking?
Reason stays till we call, and then not oft is near,But honest instinct comes a volunteer!—
Reason stays till we call, and then not oft is near,But honest instinct comes a volunteer!—
[Exit.
SCENE II.
An Apartment inLady Waitfor't'sHouse.
EnterWilloughbyandServant.
Will.[ToServant.] Tell your mistress I shall be punctual to the appointment. [ExitServant.] So, thanks to fortune, Lady Waitfor't has at length consented to my entreaties, and this night makes Louisa mine for ever!—now to read the letter once more.
[Reads.
Louisa accompanies me to-night to Lady Walton's, which you know is at the extremity of the town—on some pretence or other I'll tell her I have ordered the servant at the back gate which adjoins the paddock,—there I'll leave her—and if you have a chaise waiting near the spot, you may conduct her where you please.—You know my feelings on this occasion, but it is for her good only, I'll assure you—she don't deserve it, Mr Willoughby:—indeed she don't deserve it.A. Waitfor't.
Louisa accompanies me to-night to Lady Walton's, which you know is at the extremity of the town—on some pretence or other I'll tell her I have ordered the servant at the back gate which adjoins the paddock,—there I'll leave her—and if you have a chaise waiting near the spot, you may conduct her where you please.—You know my feelings on this occasion, but it is for her good only, I'll assure you—she don't deserve it, Mr Willoughby:—indeed she don't deserve it.
A. Waitfor't.
So—this is beyond my hopes!—ha! my Lord, and Louisa with him, come to receive Ennui, whom, to my astonishment, I met just now swearing and capering, and boasting of the vices of fashion—but no matter—I must to the rendezvous immediately—now, Louisa, tremble at my vengeance!
[Exit.
EnterLord ScratchandLouisa.
Lord.Yes, yes:—Ennui will be here in an instant—but he's so reserved—and so mild—
Louisa.So I understand, sir—and so very silent, that he won't talk so much in a year, as I intend in an hour.
Lord.I know—that's the reason I bring him into parliament—he'll never speak—only say "Ay" or"No," and be up stairs to beef-steaks in an instant, [Knock.] Here he is!—now encourage him—don't mind his diffidence—
Louisa.No, sir—I'll do all in my power to make him talk.
Lord.That's well—I'll leave you together—I won't interrupt you, [Stamping without.] Odso!—I must get out of the way,—encourage him; Louisa—I beseech you encourage him!
[Exit.
Ennui.[Without.] Stand by! no ceremony, damme!—
Louisa.Heaven!—is this diffidence?
EnterEnnuiandServant.
Ennui.Get down stairs, you dog—get down,—[ExitServant.] Here I am, ma'am:—ease is every thing—I'll seat myself—now for business!—yaw—aw!—
[Yawns aside.
Louisa.Sir!
Ennui.In one word, I'll tell you my character,—I'm a lad of fashion!—I love gaming—I hate thinking—I like racing—I despise reading—I patronize boxing—I detest reasoning—I pay debts of honour,—not honourable debts—in short, I'll kick your servants—cheat your family, and fight your guardian—and so if you like me, take me—heh, damme!—I'm tired already!—yaw—aw.
[Yawns aside.
Louisa.Astonishing!—Mr Ennui—
Ennui.Ma'am? yaw—aw!
[Aside.
Louisa.Mr Ennui, can you be in your senses?
Ennui.In fact—I don't comprehend [Forgetting himself.]—Oh—ay—senses! [Recollecting himself.] a lad of fashion in his senses!—that's a very good joke!—if one of us had any sense, the rest would shut him up in a cabinet of curiosities, or show him as a wonderful animal:—they would, damme!—I can't support it!—yaw—aw!
[Yawns aside.
Louisa.So, you glory in your ignorance?
Ennui.Ma'am—yaw! aw!
[Aside.
Louisa.So, you glory in your ignorance—in your vices?
Ennui.I've an idea—I can't understand—[Forgetting himself.]—vices! Oh:—ay, damme, to be sure; [Recollecting himself.] you must be wicked, or you can't be visited—singularity is every thing,—every man must get a character, and I'll tell you how I first got mine:—I pretended to intrigue with my friend's wife,—paragraph'd myself in the newspapers,—got caricatured in the print-shops—made the story believed,—was abused by every body,—noticed for my gallantry by every body—and at length visited by every body—I was, damme!—I'm curst sleepy,—yaw—aw!
[Yawns aside.
Louisa.Incredible!—but if singularity is your system, perhaps being virtuous would make you as particular as any thing.
Ennui.Vastly well!—'gad, you're like me, a wit, and don't know it. [Taking out his Watch.] How goes the enemy?—more than half the day over!—tol de rol lol! [Humming a tune.] I'm as happy as if I was at a fire, or a general riot.—Come to my arms, thou angel—thou—[As he goes to embrace her,Lord Scratchenters—he embraces him.] Ah,—Scratch!—my friend Scratch!—sit down, my old boy—sit down,—we've settled every thing.
[Forces him into a Chair, and sits by him.]
Lord.Why,—what is all this?
Ennui.She's to intrigue, and you and I are to go halves in the damages—some rich old Nabob—we'll draw him intocrim. con.—bring an action directly, and a ten thousand pound verdict at least—eh, damme!—
Lord.Why he's mad!—that dramatic maniac has bit him.
Ennui.Get a divorce—marry another, and go halves again, damme!
Lord.[Rising.] Why, look ye, you impostor!—you—didn't you come here to pay your addresses to this lady? and wasn't I to bring you into parliament, for your quiet silent disposition?
Ennui.[Pushing him out of his way.] Hold your tongue! out of the way, Scratch!—out of the way, or I'll do you a mischief—I will, damme!—Zounds!—a'nt I at the top of the beau monde? and don't I set the fashions?—if I was to cut off my head, wouldn't half the town do the same?—they would, damme!—I get sleepy again!—yaw—aw!—
[Aside.
Lord.Here now!—here's a mandarin member;—why, he'd have bred a civil war!—made ten long speeches in a day!—cut your head off, indeed!—curse me but I wish you would—you must be silent then—you couldn't talk without a head, could you?
Ennui.Yes, in parliament—as well without a head as with one—do you think a man wants a head for a long speech, damme!—
EnterServant.
Servant.Her ladyship is waiting, ma'am.
Louisa.Oh, I attend her,—Mr Ennui, your most obedient.
Ennui.[Taking her Hand.] With your leave, ma'am.—You see, Scratch—you see.
Lord.Why, Louisa!—
Ennui.Keep your distance, Scratch—contemplate your superiors,—look at me with the same awful respect a city beau looks at a prince,—this way, most angelic—Scratch, cut your head off—this way, most angelic.
[Exit withLouisa.
Lord.Here's treatment!—was ever poor peer so tormented?—what am I to do?—I'll go to Lady Waitfor't, for from her alone I meet relief,—find a silent member, indeed!—by my privilege one might as soon find a pin in the ocean,—charity in a bench of bishops,—or wit in Westminster hall!
[Exit.
SCENE I.
The Paddock nearLady Walton'sHouse—A View of the House at a distance, and partly moonlight.
Willoughbyalone.
Willoughby.'Tis past the hour Lady Waitfor't appointed—why does she delay? I cannot have mistaken the place—yonder's Lady Walton's house—Oh! 'would all were past, and Louisa safely mine! I hear a noise—by Heaven 'tis she! and with her all my happiness—I'll withdraw a while, and observe them.
[Retires.
EnterLady Waitfor'tandLouisa Courtney.
Louisa.My dear Lady Waitfor't, why do you loiter here? you cannot find your servants in this place—let us return to Lady Walton's.
Lady.No, no, they must be here,—I ordered them to wait in this very spot, to avoid confusion. What can have become of Willoughby?
[Aside.
Louisa.If you have the least sense of fear for yourself, or regard for me, I beg we may return to Lady Walton's.
Lady.No, no, I tell you I ordered William at the back gate, that he might conduct us through the paddock to our carriage; you know we might have been whole hours getting through the crowd the other way—do be a little patient, hav'n't I as much reason to be alarmed as yourself?
Louisa.Yes, but you have not the apprehension I have; I don't know why, but I am terrified beyond description.
Lady.Well, well, never fear; [Looking out.] Oh, yonder's Willoughby! now for the grand design! [Aside.] Louisa, if you'll wait here a moment I'llstep to the next gate, and see if they are there;—they cannot escape us then.
Louisa.No, no, don't leave me;—I wouldn't stay by myself for the world.
Lady.Ridiculous! can't you protect yourself for an instant? must you be all your life watch'd like a baby in leading-strings? Oh! I am ashamed of you—only wait a moment, lest they pass by in my absence, and I'll return to you immediately.
Louisa.Well: don't stay.
Lady.Stay! what have you to be frightened at? I shall not be out of call;—besides, if there's any fear of a personal attack, may not I be as terrified as yourself? It isn't the first time, I'll assure you, but that's no matter;—show yourself a woman of spirit, and, at least, emulate one of my virtues.—Now, Willoughby, the rest is thine!
[Exit.
Willoughbycomes forward.
Willoughby.Be not alarmed, Miss Courtney.
Louisa.Mr Willoughby!
Willoughby.Yes, madam; the man you most avoid.
Louisa.Tell me, sir, immediately, how, and by whose appointment, you came here?
Willoughby.By love, madam; the same passion that has prompted me to pursue you for years, now happily conducts me hither;—I come to lessen your fears, not to increase them.
Louisa.Then, leave me, sir, I can protect myself.
Willoughby.No, not till you have heard and pitied me; I have been long your suitor, and long scorned by you; you have treated me with indifference, and preferred my inferiors; how I have deserved all this, yourself can best explain, but, to prove all former cruelties are forgotten, I here offer you my hand, and, with it, my heart.
Louisa.Sir,—this is no time for hearing you on this subject; if you wish to oblige me, leave me.
Willoughby.No, not till I am answered;—years may elapse ere I shall have another opportunity like the present, therefore no time can be so well as now.
Louisa.Then I command you to leave me,—I will not be threatened into a compliance.
Willoughby.Look ye, Miss Courtney—I would avoid taking advantage of your situation—nay, start not—but if you persist in your contempt of me, I know not to what extremities passion may hurry me; I have every motive for redress, and, if you do not instantly give me your word, to prefer me to that beggar Neville, I may do that, my cooler sense would scorn.
Louisa.Beggar, sir!
Willoughby.Yes; and, were he not beneath my resentment, I'd tell you more;—but he is too poor—too—
Louisa.Hold, sir; did you resemble him, I might esteem, nay, adore you; but as you are, I loath, I despise, I defy you;—you take advantage of my situation!—Hear me, sir,—though not a friend is near,—though night opposes me, and Heaven deserts me, yet can I smile upon your menaces, and make you tremble, villain as you are.
Willoughby.Have a care, madam! another declaration like that, and I'll delay no longer;—I'll force you to my purpose.
Louisa.You dare not, on your life you dare not.
Willoughby.Nay, then—I am not to be terrified by threats,—[Lays hold of her.] all struggling is in vain; this moment gratifies my revenge,—away!
Louisa.Off,—let me go! Oh, help! help!
[As he is forcing her out, enterFloriville, half drunk.]
Flor."Donne, donne, donne, dow." [Singing part of an Italian air.] Oh, this burgundy's a glorious liquor! hey-day! who have we here?
Louisa.Oh, sir! if you have any pity for an injured, helpless woman, assist one who never knew distress till now!
Flor.Go on, ma'am, go on—both damn'd drunk I perceive.
Louisa.Do not be deaf to my entreaties—do not desert me—
Flor.Go on, ma'am, go on—I love oratory in a woman.
Louisa.Gracious Heaven! how have I deserved all this? I see, sir, you avoid me. I see you are indifferent to my fate.
Flor.No, ma'am, you wrong me—but in Italy—observe—we always take these things coolly—now, sir, will you explain?
Willoughby.No, sir, I will not.
Flor.You will not?
Willoughby.No, sir, and I warn you not to listen to the wild ravings of a senseless woman—it may be better for you, sir.
Flor.Why so, Prince Prettiman?
Willoughby.No matter, sir, I will not be amused from my purpose.
Flor.You won't, old Pluto, won't you? then, ma'am, observe! you shall behold my mode of fighting—I'll kill him like a gentleman, and he shall die without a groan;—you'll be delighted, ma'am—I learnt it all in Italy.—Come, Belzebub, are you ready?
Willoughby.'Sdeath! what can I do? he is drunk, perhaps I may disarm him.
Flor.Now, thou original sin, thou prince of darkness! come out; never let her see thy black infernal visage more, or by my life I'll pulverize you—you see, ma'am, no bad orator either—learnt it all in Italy.
Willoughby.Come on, sir.
Flor.Ay, now old Sysiphus, push home—but fight like a gentleman, if you can, for remember, there is alady in company—observe, ma'am, observe; you won't see it again.
[They fight.—FlorivilledisarmsWilloughby.]
Flor.What, vanquished, Tarquin? hah! hah! [Parrying up and down the stage by himself.]—You see, ma'am, you see!—Oh! Italy's your only country!—Now, ma'am, would you have me kill him here, "in Allegro," or postpone it, that you may have the pleasure of pinking him yourself, "in Penseroso?"
Louisa.[Coming nearFloriville, and discovering him.] Floriville, my deliverer!—generous man!—No, sir, whatever are his crimes, do not kill him; his greatest punishment will be to live.
Flor.There, then, caitiff, take your sword, and, d'ye hear? retire;—that black front of thine offends the lady;—if you want another flourish, you will soon find Floriville—abscond.
Willoughby.Sir, you shall hear from me—distraction!
[Exit.
Flor.And now, my dear little angel, how can I assist you? I'm very sorry that I can't help it—I'm cursed drunk, and not proper company for a lady of your dignity,—but I won't affront you,—I mean to make myself agreeable, and if I do not—it is the fault of that place, [Pointing to his head.] and not of this, [Pointing to his heart.]
Louisa.Sir, your conduct has endeared you to me for ever, and while I live, your generosity and valour shall be engraven on my heart.
Flor.Gently, gently, have a care, make no declarations; if you are in love with me, as I suppose you are, keep it secret,—for at this moment you might raise a flame that would consume us both;—poor creature! how fond she is of me! any other time I would indulge her, but not now—[Looks at her sometime, then runs, and kisses her hand.]—Oh, you paragon!—"Angels must paint to look as fair as you."—[Goesfrom her again.]—I'll leave you, or, by Heaven, it will be all over with us.
Louisa.No, no, don't desert me! alas! I have no way left but to commit myself to your care—if I could bring him to recollect me, all would be safe. Mr Floriville, don't you know me?
Flor.No, 'would to Heaven I did.
Louisa.What, not Miss Courtney?
Flor.What, Louisa? my brother's idol?
Louisa.Alas! the very same.
Flor.Then may I die, if I don't get out of your debt before I leave you—where—where shall I conduct you?
Louisa.I know not—return to lady Waitfor't's again, I will not—I had rather be a wanderer all my life—to lady Walton's there is no excuse for returning, and I know no friend in Bath I dare intrude upon.—I have so high an opinion, Mr Floriville, of your honour, that, notwithstanding your present situation, there is no man on earth I would sooner confide in;—can you then think of any place where I may rest in safety for a few hours, and then I will set out for my uncle's in the country.
Flor.Indeed I cannot, I am a wanderer myself;—I have no home but what this gentleman is to purchase me [Taking out his purse.]—you cannot partake of that.
Louisa.Oh! what will become of me?
Flor.Let me see—I have it—I'll take her to my brother's;—she'll be safe there, and not a soul shall come near her.—Well, Miss Courtney,—I have recollected a place where I know you'll be safe—a friend's house, that will be as secure—nay, don't droop—in Italy we're never melancholy.
Louisa.Oh, Mr Floriville, to what a hazard has lady Waitfor't exposed me!—to her perfidy I owe it all—but yonder's that wretch again—pray let us begone.
Flor.Belzebub again,—no, no, we mustn't stir;—what! an angel fly from a devil? damme, I'll stay and crush him.
Louisa.Nay, sir, reflect,—'twere madness to remain.
Flor.'Faith that's true; I believe it's braver to retire,—therefore, Tarquin, adieu; come, my best angel! I'll fight your battles, and if I don't sink all your enemies, may I never see Italy again as long as I live!
[Exeunt.
EnterWilloughby.
Willoughby.Ha! gone,—I am sorry for it—I would have seen them—lady Waitfor't has just left me, and treated me like her slave,—insulted and derided me; but I'll have done with her for ever,—I'll be her dupe no more;—she is now gone to Neville's lodgings, under pretence of pursuing Louisa, but, in fact, to see him, and prevent his leaving Bath;—this I will write to my lord, and then let him follow, and be witness of her infamy;—thus, I hope, I shall make some reparation for the wrongs I have committed, and prove at last I have some sense of virtue.
[Exit.
SCENE II.
Neville'sLodgings—A Closet in back Scene.—Two Chairs, and a Table, with Wine on it.—A knocking at the Door.
EnterPeter, reading a Card.
Peter.Vapid presents his compliments to his friend Neville; has thought of nothing but writing the epilogue for his friend's play since they parted; he has made great progress, and will wait on him to take his judgment on it in a few minutes.If the gentlemanshould come soon, I fear my master won't be at home to receive him.
[Knocks.—Peteropens the Door, and lets inVapid.
Vapid.Well, here it is;—where's Neville?
Peter.Not within, sir.
Vapid.Yes, yes, here it is:—I must see him.
Peter.Sir, he's gone out.
Vapid.Gone out? impossible!
Peter.Impossible! it's very true, sir.
Vapid.Gone out! why, I've brought him the epilogue—the new epilogue to Mr What's-his-name's comedy; the very best thing I ever wrote in my life; I knew it would delight him.
Peter.Sir, he has been gone out above these two hours.
Vapid.Then he'll never forgive himself as long as he lives; why, it's all correct—all chaste! only one half line wanting at the end to make it complete.
Peter.Indeed, sir, it's very unfortunate.
Vapid.Unfortunate! I wanted to have heard him read it too; when another person reads it, one often hits on a thought that might otherwise have escaped; then, perhaps, he would have hit on that cursed half line, I have so long been working at.
Peter.Sir, if it is not impertinent, and you'd permit me to read it—
Vapid.You read it!
Peter.Yes, sir, if you'd allow me that honour.
Vapid.'Faith, I should have no objection,—but wouldn't it lower one's dignity? No, no, Moliere used to read his plays to his servants, so I believe all's regular.—Come, sir, begin.
[Peterreading Epilogue.
In ancient times, when agonizing wars,And bleeding nations, fill'd the world with jars;When murder, battle, sudden death, prevail'd,When——
In ancient times, when agonizing wars,And bleeding nations, fill'd the world with jars;When murder, battle, sudden death, prevail'd,When——
Vapid.Stop—stop—I have it: not a word foryour life; I feel it—it's coming on—the last line directly—quick! quick!
[Peterreads.
The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,Die all, die nobly!——
The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,Die all, die nobly!——
Peter.Here's something wanting, sir.
Vapid.I know it, say nothing—I have it—
[Walks backwards and forwards.
The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,Die all, die nobly!——
The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,Die all, die nobly!——
Oh, damn it! damn it! damn it!—that cursed half line!—I shall never accomplish it—all so chaste—all so correct,—and to have it marr'd for want of one half line,—one curst half line! I could almost weep for disappointment.
Peter.Never mind, sir, don't perplex yourself,—put in any thing.
Vapid.Put in any thing! why, 'tis the last line, and the epilogue must end with something striking, or it will be no trap for applause—no trap for applause, after all this fine writing!—Put in any thing!—what do you mean, sirrah?
Peter.Methinks this is a strange epilogue to a comedy—[Knock at the door.]—Perhaps this is my master—[Looks out.]—no, as I live, 'tis Mr Floriville and Miss Courtney! she mustn't on any account be seen by this gentleman.
Vapid.Well, who is it?—"The tyrant totters"—
Peter.Sir, it's a friend of my master's who has brought a lady with him—I'm sure you've too much gallantry to interrupt an amour; and, therefore, you'll be kind enough to get out of the way directly.
Vapid.Get out of the way! what the devil, in the middle of my composition?—"Die all, die nobly"—
Peter.Nay, sir, only step for a moment into this closet, and you shall be released,—now, pray, sir,—pray be prevailed on.
Vapid.Well, let me see—in this closet! why, here's china, zounds! would you put a live author in a china closet?
Peter.What can I do, sir? there is no way out but that door—get in here for an instant, and I'll show them into the library—now do, sir.
Vapid.Well, be brief then,—"Die all! die nobly!"—oh! oh! oh!
[Enters Closet, andFlorivilleandLouisaenter.
Flor.Hey-day!—my old acquaintance, Peter! where's my brother?
Peter.Sir, he has been out the whole evening.
Louisa.In the same house with Neville!—oh, Heavens!
Flor.Well, Miss Courtney, I hope now you are convinced of your safety.
Louisa.Yes, sir, but I would it were in any other place; lady Waitfor't, ere this, is in pursuit of me, and if she discovers me here, you know too well how much I have to dread.
[Knock at the Door.—ExitPeter.
Flor.Don't be alarm'd, there's nothing shall molest you.
Louisa.Oh, sir, you don't know the endless malice of lady Waitfor't—she will triumph in my misery, and till my lord is convinced of her duplicity, I see no hope of your brother's happiness, or my own.
EnterPeter.
Peter.Lady Waitfor't is below, inquiring for that lady, or my master.
Flor.For my brother?
Peter.Yes, sir, and my lord has sent to know if Mr Vapid, or her ladyship, have been here;—he was in bed, but on receiving a letter, got up, and will be here in an instant.
Louisa.For Heaven's sake, Mr Floriville, let me retire,—I cannot support the conflict.
Flor.Promise to recall your spirits, and you shall.
Louisa.What I can do I will.
Flor.Then know no apprehension, for, on my life, you shall not be disturbed.
[Leads her to the Door of the Library, and talks in dumb show.
Vapid.[From Closet.] Peter! Peter! can't you release me?
Peter.No, sir, don't move, you'll ruin every thing.
Vapid.Then give me that candle—I have pen and ink—I think I could finish my epilogue.
Peter.Here, sir.
[Giving Candle.
Vapid.That curst half line—"Die all"—
[Petershuts him in.
Flor.So, now, the storm begins, and if I don't have some sport with the enemy—[Sits at Table, and begins drinking.]—here she comes.
EnterLady Waitfor't.
Flor.Chairs, Peter, chairs,—Sit down, ma'am—sit down—you honour me exceedingly.
Lady.Where is your brother, sir? I insist on seeing him.
EnterLord Scratch.
Lord.There she is!—in a man's lodgings at midnight—here's treatment!
Lady.My lord, I came here in search of Louisa, who has been betrayed from my power.
Lord.Look ye, my lady—read that letter, that's all; read that letter, and then say, if we sha'n't both cut a figure in the print shops.
Lady.[Taking Letter.] Ha! Willoughby's hand! [Reads.]Lady Waitfor't, (I have only time to tell you) is gone to Neville's lodgings, to meet one she has long had a passion for—follow her, and be convinced of her duplicity.Oh, the villain! well, my lord, and pray who is the man I come to meet?
Lord.Why, who should it be but the stage ruffian? if there was a sofa in the room, my life on't, he'd pop from behind it.—Zounds! that fellow will lay straw before my door every nine months!
Lady.This is fortunate.—[Aside.]—Well, sir, if I discover Louisa, I hope you'll be convinced I came here to redeem her, and not disgrace myself. Tell me, sir, immediately, where she is concealed.
[ToFloriville.
Flor.Sit down, ma'am—sit down: drink, drink, then we'll talk over the whole affair—there is no doing business without wine; come, here's "The glory of gallantry"—I'm sure you'll both drink that.
Lady.No trifling, sir; tell me where she is concealed;—nay, then I'll examine the apartment myself—[Goes to Door of Library.]—the door lock'd! give me the key, sir.
Flor.[Drinking.] "The glory of gallantry, ma'am."
Lord.Hear me, sir, if the lady's in that apartment, I shall be convinced that you and your brother are the sole authors of all this treachery; if she is there, by the honour of my ancestors, she shall be Willoughby's wife to-morrow morning.
Flor.[Rising.] Shall she, my lord? Pray, were you ever in Italy?
Lord.Why, coxcomb?
Flor.Because, I'm afraid you've been bitten by a tarantula—you'll excuse me, but the symptoms are wonderfully alarming—There is a blazing fury in your eye—a wild emotion in your countenance, and a green spot—
Lord.Damn the green spot! open that door, and let me see immediately: I'm a peer, and have a right to look at any thing.
Flor.[Standing before the Door.] No, sir; this door must not be open'd.
Lord.Then I'll forget my peerage, and draw my sword.
Flor.[ToLady Waitfor't, who is going to interfere.] Don't be alarm'd, ma'am, I'll only indulge him for my own amusement—mere trout fishing, ma'am—
EnterLouisa, from the Apartment.
Louisa.Hold! I charge you, hold!—let not my unhappy fate be the source of more calamities.
Lord.'Tis she herself:—My lady did not come to meet the madman.
Flor.By the lord, ma'am, you have ruined all.
Louisa.I know, sir, the consequences of this discovery, and I abide by them.—But what I have done, I can justify, and 'would to Heaven all here could do the same!
Flor.Indeed, I can't tell—I wish I was in Italy.
Lord.Mark me, madam,—nay, tears are in vain—to-morrow shall make you the wife of Willoughby; and he shall answer for your follies.—No reply, sir, [ToFloriville, who is going to speak.] I wou'dn't hear the chancellor.
Lady.Now, who is to blame? Oh, virtue is ever sure to meet its reward!—Come to meet a mad poet, indeed!—My lord, I forgive you only on condition of your signing a contract to marry me to-morrow, and Louisa to Willoughby, at the same time.
Lord.I will, thou best of women!—draw it up immediately—and Neville shall starve for his treachery.
[Lady Waitfor'tgoes to the Table, and writes.
Louisa.[Falling at the feet ofLord Scratch.] Hear me, sir, not for myself, but for a wrong'd friend, I speak:—Mr Neville knows not of my concealment; on my honour, he is innocent:—if that lady's wrongs must be avenged, confine the punishment to me—I'll bear it, with patience bear it.
Lord.Let go!—let go, I say!—Lady Waitfor't, make haste with the contract.
Lady.It only waits the signature.—Now, my lord.
Flor.Look ye, uncle—she's the cause of all this mischief, and if you are not lost——
Lord.Out of my way!—O'd—noise and nonsense!—don't fancy yourselves in the House of Commons! we're not speaking twenty at a time. Here! give me the pen—I'll sign directly; and now—
[As he is going to sign,Vapidbreaks the China in the Closet, and rushes out, with the Epilogue in his Hand.
Vapid."Die all! die nobly! die like demi-gods!"—Huzza, huzza! 'tis done! 'tis past! 'tis perfect.
Flor.Huzza!—the poet at last; "Stop him who can!"
Lady.Confusion!—tell me, sir, immediately, what do you mean by this new insult?
Vapid."Die all! die nobly! die like demi-gods!"—oh, it's glorious!—Ah, old Scratch, are you there?—Joy, joy! give me joy!—I've done your business! the work's past!—the labour's o'er, my boy!—"think of that, Master Brook—think of that!"
Lady.My lord, I am vilely treated.—I desire you'll insist on an explanation.
Flor.He can't speak, madam.
[All this time, myLordis slowly walking away.
Lady.How! are you going to leave me, my lord?
Vapid.[Taking out his Common-place Book.] 'Faith this musn't be lost!—here's something worth observing.
[ExitLord Scratch.
Lady.Oh, I shall burst with rage!—Mr Vapid, I desire you'll explain how you came in that closet.—Why don't you answer me, sir?
Vapid.Your pardon, ma'am, I was taking a note of the affair—and yet I'm afraid——
Lady.What are you afraid of, sir?
Vapid.That it has been dramatized before;—it is certainly not a new case.
Lady.Insupportable!—But I take my leave of you all!—I abandon you for ever!—I!—oh, I shall go wild!
[Exit in a rage.
Flor.Ay, ay, follow his lordship—virtue is ever sure to meet its reward. Now, Mr Vapid, tell us how you came in that closet?
Vapid.'Faith, I can't.—I believe the servant hurried me there on your approach.
Flor.Then you didn't come to meet lady Waitfor't?
Vapid.Meet lady Waitfor't!—no, I came to read my epilogue to Neville; and a wonderful production it is—"The tyrant totters, and the senate nods."
[Walking about.
Louisa.To what a strange fatality of circumstances has her character been exposed!—but vice often finds its punishment for a crime it never committed, when it escapes for thousands it daily practises.
Flor.Well, Miss Courtney, I hope now your apprehensions are at an end?
Louisa.Yes, sir, I shall remain for the short time necessary to prepare for my journey, and beg I may detain you no longer. I'm afraid I have already been a great intruder.
Flor.No, you have been the occasion of more happiness than ever I experienced. But you won't leave Bath, till you've seen my brother?
Louisa.Oh, I have been cruelly deceived, Mr Floriville! I have injured your brother so much, that, though I wish, I almost dread to see him.
Flor.Then I'll go in search of him,—and if I don't reconcile you——Come, Mr Vapid, will you walk?
Vapid.With all my heart.
Flor.[Taking him by the hand.] By Heaven, you are an honest fellow.
Vapid.Madam, good night!—if I can be of any service to you in the dramatic, or any other way, you may command me.
Flor.Ay, I'll answer for him,—he would die to serve you.
Vapid.Die to serve her! ay, "Die all!—die nobly!—die like demi-gods!"
[Exeunt.
SCENE I.
Lady Waitfor't'sApartment.
Lady Waitfor'tdiscovered at her Toilette.Lettywaiting.
Lady.Mr Vapid not come yet, Letty?
Letty.No, ma'am,—but the servant, who found him at the tavern, said he would be here immediately.
Lady.I protest, I am almost weary of them all.—[Noise without.] See who's there.
[Lettylistens, and returns.
Letty.Mr Vapid at last:—now, pray your ladyship, insist on his explaining every thing to my lord.
Lady.Yes; but vilely as he has treated me, I must still be calm.
Vapid, putting his head in.
Walk in, sir, walk in.
Vapid.No, ma'am, I'd rather stay here.
Lady.I beg you'll be seated, Mr Vapid—I have something of consequence to impart to you.
EnterVapid, gently.
Vapid.I'd never have ventured but in hopes of seeing my dear Marianne.
Lady.Indeed I will not detain you a moment.
Vapid.Very well, ma'am, if that's the case——[Slowly seating himself.] It's very alarming.
[Aside.
Lady.Letty, leave the room, and fasten the door.
[ExitLetty.
Vapid.No, no!—don't do that, I beseech you!
Lady.You're very much frightened, Mr Vapid;—I hope you don't suppose I have any design against you?
Vapid.I don't know, really, ma'am—such things are perfectly dramatic.
Lady.Well, but, to release you from your fears, I'll tell you why I have given you this trouble—My business, Mr Vapid, was to converse with you on the farcical affair that happened at Neville's.
Vapid.Farcical!
Lady.Yes, sir, the farcical affair that happened at Mr Neville's.
Vapid.Farcical?—what, my epilogue, ma'am?—I hope you don't mean to reflect on that?
Lady.No, sir, far from it—I have no doubt but it is a very elegant composition.
Vapid.Doubt!—here it is, read it!—the very first production of the age! A regular climax of poetic beauty!—the last line thene plus ultraof genius.
Lady.But, to be serious, Mr Vapid——
Vapid.Why, I am serious:—and I'll tell you, lady Waitfor't, 'tis the last line of an epilogue, and the last scene of a comedy, that always distracts me—'tis the reconciliation of lovers—there's the difficulty!—You find it so in real life, I dare say?
Lady.Yes.—But Mr Vapid, this affair concerns me excessively, and I wish to know what is to be done.
Vapid.I'll tell you,—write a play,—and, bad as it may possibly be, say it's a translation from the French, and interweave a few compliments on the English, and, my life on't, it does wonders.—Do it, and say you had the thought from me.
Lady.Sir, do you mean to deride me?
Vapid.No.—But only be cautious in your style—women are in general apt to indulge that pruriency and warm luxuriancy of fancy they possess,—but do be careful—be decent—if you are not, I have done with you.
Lady.Sir, I desire you'll be more respectful.—I don't understand it at all.
[Rising.
EnterMarianne.
Vapid.Then here comes one that will explain every thing.