Y2r

The Town
Before You.

A Comedy.

Y2 Y2v


After flights into different Climates, and, in one instance,
retrograding into a long past Age, the Author’s
Muse returns—to close her dramatic career at
home. Perhaps, after her long course, on a flagging
wing if compared with herself—a test which is severe
in proportion to an Author’s own Merits!—If this be
so, her Muse however will be found invigorated to
Strength again in the Volume of her Poetry.


This Comedy was brought out at Covent Garden in
the year 17951795. The Cant, that preceded and caused
the present disturbed state of Europe, that Vice peculiarly
abounds amongst the higher and richer orders,
and that Virtue is rather the attribute of their inferiors,
was, in the moment in which it flourished, controverted
in this play, in as much detail as a mixed
audience would admit of. The doctrine, as has generally
been the case in real life, is made to proceed
from the lips of a man—who has sunk to be an adventurer.


Though some of the Characters have the elegant
Manners of the Author’s earlier plays, the general object
in this was, to give the mingled Scenes Manners
and Characters of the East and the West of The Town.
The Thoughts of the Adventurer, the weakness of the
dupe, and the phraseology of Commerce, immingle
with the more refined Manners and Language of higher
Life; the frolic but not rude vivacity of Georgina, just
introduced into life, imparting considerable liveliness
throughout.

Y3r

Prologue

Ha! Ha! you’re here! and comfortably tight!

Well squeezed and pressed I see, from left to right,

Waiting the moment when the curtain rises,

Gaping for Plots Adventures and Surprises!

Were I a Poet, a Dramatic Wit,

And by the Stage Tarantula were bit,

My Prologue should, as was the good old way,

A word or two upon the Subject say,

Hint a slight outline of the scheme within,

T’excite your guesses ere the Scenes begin.

In present times, the Prologue and the Play,

Are as near kin as Michaelmas and May,

Confined then not to say a word of that,

I’ll tell some Story—and I have one pat!

A Boniface of late placed o’er his door

Good larder here, of genuine wine rich store

In Gold the gaudy invitation hung,

And to the shifting Zephyrs gently swung.

It chanced a Traveller, with stomach keen,

Leapt from his Rozinante tired and lean,

Talked of his Supper with an eager air,

Resolved for once—that no Expence he’d spare!

Bring your stewed Carp, he cried, and Chicken roast,

And give me of the Burgundy you boast!

Y—e—s Sir! the staring curtesying Damsel said,

And, in a trice, the Table-cloth was laid.

I’m my own Man! he adds, in accents bold,

Nor shall I fear to night my household Scold!

Y3v 326

One hundred miles betwixt me and my Dear,

At least her shrill Alarum can’t reach here!

At length came back the smirking simpering Kate,

And placed—one Egg upon his lonely plate!

Our startled Traveller the Landlord called,

Host! Host! in angry accents fiercely bawled,

Where are your Carp exclaimed, your Chicken, Hare?

Why there you see them—in the Bill of Fare!

The cheated Guest, enraged, the Inn forsook,

And the road, grumbling, to another took.

There, without Promise, all was neat and clean,

Food, not quite tasteless, and the House not mean.

We, not to raise high hopes, we may not meet,

But ay—this night’s plain fare is fresh and sweet,

And, should you like the dressing, we invite ye,

To come as often as the fare delights ye!

Y4r Y4v

Characters.

Men.

Sir Simon Asgill.Mr. Powell.

Asgill.His Nephew.Pope.

Conway. In love with Georgina. Holman.

Sir Robert Floyer.Quick.

Fancourt.Munden.

Brisk.Lewis.

Perkins.Hull.

Humphrey.Fawcett.

SlopSeller.Thompson.

Holdfast.Cross.

Women.

Lady Horatio Horton. Mrs. Pope.

Georgina. Sir Robert’s Daughter. Miss Wallis.

Mrs. Fancourt.Mrs. Mattocks.

Lady Nelville.Miss Chapman.

Jenny.Mrs. Martyr.

Y5r

The Town.

Act the First.

Scene I.

a plain apartment, with a few books. Fancourt sits reading. Mrs. Fancourt
at Work.

Fancourt.


How well those fellows wrote, those
Ancients! How finely they satirize the Rich, and
what Respect they have for virtue in Rags! My
Dear, I translate the passage—off hand now, d’ye
hear, off hand!

Reads


Poliarchus the rich Athenian, wantoning in
Gluttony, looks with Contempt on the poor
Straw, thanks the Gods that he hath Health and
Virtue! and prays that he may be preserved
from the Misfortune of being rich like Poliarchus,
whose floors are stained with the wine
of Drunkenness, and whose luxurious couch is
constantly crowded by Physicians!

Mrs. F.


Are you sure that is a just translation, Mr.
Fancourt
?

Y5v 330

Fancourt.


What, Mrs. Fancourt, do you doubt my
knowledge of Greek!—There are, who can hardly,
at Sight, read English, I can at Sight translate—
thanks to the skill I gained at Oxford; where, by
the bye, they had rather too much respect for Riches
and the Rich!

Mrs. F.


That is better perhaps than having too
little! I am much inclined to suspect the Philosophers
whose sarcasms are confined to the Rich!

Fancourt.


I do maintain, Madam, that the Rich
are the most—

Mrs. F.


Come, come, Mr Fancourt, now that
your extravagance has rendered you poor, you are
always uttering Philippics against people of Fortune,
as though vice and folly were confined to the mansions
of the Great, and Virtue could only live in a Garret!
The Wants of the Poverty that has grown of Idleness
lead us at least as much into a state of Temptation as
the attractions of Luxury.

Fancourt.


Hey-dey! Madam!

Mrs. F.


There is at least as much goodness, where
Prudence has preserved fortune, as amongst those
who through Extravagance are poor. I never could
perceive why living elegantly, in well educated
society, should debase the Heart, or weaken the
Understanding.

Fancourt.

In great anger.You do not perceive!
Why you are the greatest, the most abominable—
upon my soul you are the most provoking fool that
ever—

Mrs. F.


My dear Sir, you have repeated these
opinions so often, that their solidity has certainly
made its due impression on me. But really now,
between ourselves rising and laying down her work.
as Opinion is nothing without example, I will take
the liberty to quote Yourself in support of mine!

Fancourt.


Me!—quote me!

Mrs. F.


Even your great and mighty self!—Mr Y6r 331
Fancourt
, when I married you, you were in better
circumstances, at least, than you are now! and, I
think, at that time you had no particular Vices.
But, as Dissipation has brought on Poverty, I have
observed that, by little and little, your good-will has
distended itself into a mere Theory of Benevolence
to mankind at large, without being practically displayed
to a single individual, not, you know, even
to your Sister! and as is the case with your friend
Mr. Brisk, who, with grief I hear it, is just returned
to London) your shallow virtues have nearly disappeared
until—

Fancourt.


—Until what!

Mrs. F.


Until you are, both of you, capable of
almost any action that will not endanger your Lives.

Fancourt.


Gently, good Madam! my friend Brisk
and I are only two of the Characters about this Town,
who enliven it by raising their Means by their Wits!
And as to your polite hint that our contrivances may
seem to blend into something like swindling—dont
conclude rashly! The mark is not very distinctly
defined, my Dear, in the present day, where the
manners of a man called a dashing fellow about Town
end, and what you are pleased to hint is an approach
towards being a Sharper begins! Shades of Character
are numerous and minute now, and quite beyond
your ken.—At your peril hint at this again!

Mrs. F.


Nay, I no longer fear your threatening
looks. I am so convinced of what I have said, that
my heart is incapable of any sensation but that of
horror!

Fancourt.


I’ll make it, mark me Woman! on some
day when thus provoked, I will make it feel something
else—feel shame!

Mrs. F.


You cannot. All such power over my
heart is over. You can afflict it no more.

Fancourt.


Very well, woman! very well.—Still the
odious noise of that Child there! Going to the Door.

Y6v 332

Mrs. F.


It is not easy, Mr Fancourt, to still the
clamours of Want. Though it is the child of the first
Mrs Fancourt, it pierces my heart to hear it! Gain
bread for it—by substituting active Industry for idle
Theory!

Fancourt.


What would you have me do? I was not
bred to stand behind a Counter, nor to cry—“Chairs
to mend!”
in the streets. You knew that, why did
you marry me?

Mrs. F.


Alas! because I loved you! The sweetness
of your Manners concealed the state of your
Heart; and I, disregarding the dissent of my Family,
in silly romance thought, that poverty could never
be an Evil, where two hearts fondly shared its difficulties.
—Permit me in return to ask why you
married me?

Fancourt.


Because you had a modicum of a Fortune
—a score of Hundreds, and I had not so many
Shillings.

Mrs. F.


That little modicum might have been a
bank, if properly managed, and industry had secured
your morals—by barring off the Temptations of Indigence!.

Fancourt.


Pshaw! Stuff! I hate such Cant.—What
do you want? To a Female Servant who enters.

Serv.


A person left this parcel Sir, and said there
was no answer. Exit.

Fancourt.


Such abominable Cant! Untying the
Parcel.
I am as tired of it as I used to be of my
Grandmother’s spelling out, through her spectacled
nose, Hannah Glass’s Art of Cookery; and I believe
in my Conscience—the D—l!—here is Gold!

Mrs. F.


Gold!

Fancourt.


Off!—you are too good, too pure, to
want such trash! Gold by Jupiter—ha! ha! Shaking the Purse.

Mrs. F.


A Letter has dropped.

Takes it up and reads. Y7r 333

“Accept this Loan Sir, from one who is
sorry to so merit, for a season, in straitened
circumstances, and who was charmed with
your manner of revealing it.”

Fancourt.


Who is it signed by?

Mrs. F.


Robert Floyer.

Fancourt.


Ah! Sir Robert Floyer! A fine old
Welchman who, to become a Knight, first became a
Sheriff. I have made the old block believe me deeply
versed in Welch Antiquities—that Snowden was once
a burning Mountain, and that the Ap Morgans and
the Ap Shoneses were lineally descended from King
Priam
. You see I can turn Wits to account, and make money though I
cant make shoes!

Mrs. F.


You can see only what coincides with
your Theory, or you would immediately have been
struck, Mr Fancourt, with this proof—that those
can feel for others who want nothing in return, and
that there is fellow feeling where there is not Poverty.
But for the beneficence of a rich man, your family to
day might perhaps even have wanted a Dinner!

Fancourt.


Pshaw!—What Merit is there in the
Generosity of a rich man! a fellow who takes
Guineas from his store as you would dip a bucket
into a Well? Give me the virtue of the poor man,
who divides his last Shilling, his last Twopence, with
his friend, who takes his pint of Porter from his
thirsty lips—to share it with his poorer neighbour!

Mrs. F.


Ah! here then is your poor Sister! I will
go and receive her—you can now assist her—

Fancourt.


None of your documents!—Let her
study my Philosopher here, and she will not consider
herself in Distress—until she has pawned her Superfluities!
Going out. Sharing one’s twopences,
and sharing one’s Gold, are different Ideas quite! Exit, tying up the Purse.

Y7v 334

Mrs. F.


What a fate is that woman’s, who, deaf
to the judgment of her Family, consults but her own
inclination (created by the sedulous arts of her Lover)
in her selection of her partner for Life!—Who shall
describe her horror when she finds—too late—that
others were right! that she must associate with depravity
for life, and, her little fortune gone, draw
sustenance perhaps but from the temporary gains of
her husband’s iniquity!

Exit.

Scene II.


An apartment at sir robert floyer’s.
Enter Humphrey.

Hmph.

Searching his pockets. Rot et, here be
three Caerds or noates, or what the dickens they be
called, left now I be come back! Dang et, I have
delivered thirty seven, all the way from Manchester
Square
to Petty France! And then fagged from
there to Bishop’s Gate street, after sweet-meats for
’em, and then, after stopping to see Gog and Magog,
to the fiddling man’s shop about the penny forty—
and then to Blumsburry to Mr Fancourt’s.—Hang
me if I doant make dead men of these! tearing the
Cards.
the dead do tell no tales!—If I be found out,
I can say that the Sarvants were not at hoam any
more than their Masters!—Ha! ha! ha! that was a
moast the first thing I larn’d when I comed to Lunnun
“Not at hoam Sir!”—Dad! the Gentry here have
the cheapest way of keeping one another company!
it do cost nothing more than a dozen or two of Lies
a day to keep acquaintance with the great Quality!

Sir Robert.

Without.Humphrey! Humphrey! Y8r335Enter Sir Robert Floyer.

Humph.

Putting the torn cards into his pocket.
Here I be Sir!

Sir R.


Oh! did you find Mr Fancourt’s house?

Humph.


Yes Sir, in one of the private streets like
near Blumsberry.

Sir R.


Well, I am glad I lent him a few Guineas.
He seems to be a chap of merit; and, when he
opened his distresses to me, he did it in such a delicate,
modest way! He is an excellent Companion,
and, like me, he has quite the modern taste for Antiquities.

Humph.


Aye Sir, he’d like to zee, I do suppose,
the old worm-eaten furniture that you had in at hoam,
that year you was High Sheriff, and which was made
no use of, except to show to Strangers!—All from
the old Castles belonging to your forefeathers, Sir, I
teak it?

Sir R.


Aye, it all came from my Predecessor’s
Castles.—

Sir Robert Floyer.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

H-r-r-m—my Grandfather was the
first of my Forefathers who ever went to bed or got
up his own Master!

Humph.


Two or three rooms of precious rotten
furniture Sir, do prove to people that you be of a
sound Family to be sure!

Sir R.

Aside. I believe the dog has found me
out!

Sir Robert Floyer.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Where have you been, you loitering, westcountry
booby these three hours?

Humph.


Three hours! Why Sir, ’tis my belief you
would have loitered six, if you had seen what I’ve a
seen, and heard what I’ve a heard!

Sir R.


Why, what hast thou seen and heard?

Humph.


Why, Sir, if you will have me tell it— laughing you must know that, in my way from
Bishop’s Gate Street, I saw folks go into a new-made
old-fashion’d place where Gog and Magog do stand Y8v 336
up, they do say, to guard the Mince-pies whilst the
Lord Mayor do dine!

Lord R.


Aye, Gildhall you mean.

Humph.


Yes, gilt hall sure enough! it was bedizened
with Gold and what not—like our Gingerbread
on Fair-day at hoam in my country! So I
followed a Gemman into a fine place, where I zeed
Angels comed down through the clouds on purpose
for nothing else but to hold up the glass candlesticks
whilst the people be speaking like—thus—Standing
on one leg, and putting himself in the position.

Sir R.


What a useful employ! London is a very
extraordinary place for Taste, Humphrey!

Humph.


They told me ’twas a Debate!—O my
Ears! They called one another Mr Dupty; and
one of them, with a fine red double chin, got up and
said—Speaking gruffly. I am sorry to differ from
Mr Dupty; but I contend that these innovations
bode no good to the Constitution—h-r-r-r-r—the
hour for dining since my time was Two; it has been
since three, four, and even six, and I suspect it may
shortly be Eight! I—h-r-r-r—I move therefore that
a Petition be presented to the Lord Mayor—Hurumph!
—On which a little squinting one got up, and
said—Shrill quick voice. I support the worthy
Dupty who spoke last. These late hours are ruinous
to the Corporation! On Lord Mayor’s Day we
dined so late, that when I went to Fishmonger’s Hall
to Supper, not only the Company’s Turbots were
gone, but the second course was demolished, the
sweet-meats were pocketed, and nothing remained
but cheese-parings and pickles!

Sir R.


Away, away with your Jabber! a great
Lady is coming!— Exit Humphrey. Enter Lady Nelville,
followed by a Servant.

What, is your Ladyship going? has not my Daughter
had the honour to see you, Lady Nelville?

Z1r 337

Lady N.


Yes I have seen her, but I have given way
to a person of much greater consequence—she is in
deep consultation with her Milliner. And a Milliner,
Sir Robert, to a Girl of Eighteen not long from her
School, is as important as an Aid-du-camp to a
General. I knew my distance when she came, and
immediately took leave. Pray Sir call my people. Exit Servant.

Sir R.


Forgive me, my Lady, if, before you go, I
just put one plump question. What is your opinion
of Mr. Conway?

Lady N.


Ha! ha! my opinion of Mr Conway?—
why that he has all the agrements of Fashion without
its vices. Some Vanity he certainly has, but more
good sense. His Friends are well chosen, he admires,
he loves, Goodness, and there is a young
Lady—archly. Adieu, Sir Robert! Your anxiety
about Mr Conway I perfectly understand, and I hope
you are satisfied! Exit.

Sir R.

Bowing repeatedly. How ennobling, to
have a Lady of Quality so confidential with one
about one’s Daughter!—Aye, Georgina is to be sure
a sweet Girl, but my heart has had a thousand aches
about her, I am ready sometimes to exclaim with the
old song—

“I wonder any man alive would ever have a Daughter!” Enter Georgina hastily, followed by Jenny.
Well what now, Georgina? what now?

Georgina.


Oh, Papa! look at this Hat, did you
ever see any thing so bewitching?

Sir R.


Pho! you little Fool!

Georgina.


Look at this scarlet feather! Here,
Jenny, put it away with great care!

Vol. II. Z Z1v 338

Jenny.

Aside. Care indeed!—’tis pity my talents
have no objects of care but feathers and band boxes! Exit.

Georgina.


Good bye! I am going to Lady Horatia
Horton’s
. I do love to go there.—And oh! what
do you think I long to be now? I long to be a
Sculptor!

Sir R.


A what!

Georgina.


Lady Horatia looks so charming whilst
at her sculpturing! Her sweet white hands appear
like Alabaster gliding over the marble she is at work
upon.

Sir R.


What’s that?—not so fast! she at work—
upon marble?

Georgina.


Bless me! why yes, I find she is a
Sculptor! I wish she would teach me her art! I am
going there immediately, to stand as a Model for
Andromache—a Lady who died some thousand years
ago!—But pray Papa, when am I to be presented!
I am not in Town till I am presented!

Sir R.


Not in Town!

Georgina.


Nay indeed ’tis true! Lady Nelville,
just now, told me so. I cant go any where in Public,
nor be spoken to be a single creature, till I have
been presented!—I am not come out till then.

Sir R.

Not come out! Bless me, Saint James’s has
its slang then I find, as well as Saint Giles’s!

Georgina.


To be sure! And we must make haste
and catch the slang, or they will find us out to be
mere bumpkins.—When will I be presented?

Sir R.


Have patience! The truth is I am come
to Town about a little business of that sort myself!
We may be presented together by and by.

Georgina.


How—ha! ha! ha! presented together!
Was ever such a thing heard of? Miss and her Papa
presented together! What then have you never
come out till now Papa!

Sir R.


Pshaw! mine is quite a different business. Z2r339
If I am put into a great Office, I must be presented
of course.

Georgina.


Office! Why what are you going to be!

Sir R.


Why, that I cannot tell yet!

Georgina.


If they give you your choice, pray be a
Duke!—Oh, how I should doat on your being a
Duke!

Sir R.


Why?

Georgina.


Then I should be a Lady!—Lady
Georgina, delightful! Lady Georgina’s name would
fly about Town as though it had wings.

Sir R.


Nonsense!—A pretty figure you’d make as
a Duke’s Daughter!

Georgina.


Figure!—where’s the difficulty? I can
do it exactly—you shall see now!—When I was last
at Lady Horation Horton’s a Countess came in from
the Opera thus—striding across and sitting down
abruptly
—Bless me Lady Horatia, how could you
stay at home to night? I gallopped sixty miles to
day, have killed one coach-horse, and spoiled another,
merely to hear the Banti—oh, the Banti!—
Oh, her upper tones! and oh, her under tones!—
Whilst she was flying from B to F, hanging upon G,
running in Cantabile from E, and sinking down,
by just gradations, to D, the whole House was
magnetized. I saw a General faint, a Minister of
State take out his smelling bottle, and a Prince of
the Blood apply his handkerchief to—his Nose!

Sir R.


Very harmoniously no doubt!—My dear
Georgina, the warmth of thy Imagination would
disturb my peace, did not thy extreme giddiness
prevent its fastening on any one object for more than
one minute together. Still, beware of all the dangers
of Dissipation! that constant destroyer of the peace
of the Wife, the repose of the Husband, and the
welfare of whole Families, in this great Town! Take
care, my Girl! thou constantly tread’st near fatal Z2 Z2v 340
nets. Thy paths ’tis true are covered with flowers—
but they may conceal Thorns perhaps!

Georgina.


Thorns! why, Papa, nobody seems to
feel them! I dare say I shall dance ovr them as
safely as my neighbours!

Exeunt.

Scene III.


Asgill’s lodgings.
Enter Conway, preceded by Asgill’s Servant.

Con.


Why, this Apartment is as solitary as an Old
Maid’s morning room, or the Antichamber of a discarded
Minister!

Serv.


Mr Asgill is out Sir, but I am sure he will be
here in an instant, the time for his return is expired. Exit.

Con.


Perhaps I am mistaken in the hour Looking
at his Watch
—no later! A restless Lover has a
rare faculty of drawing out minutes into Hours! With
Health and Youth I ought to be all freedom and
hilarity, and yet here am I—a Slave! and feel my
happiness as dependent on the Smiles of a capricious
woman, as my existence on the air I breathe. What
a ridiculous History is Man’s! first Childhood, then
Folly, quickly enough followed by the last stage—
Apathy!—Would I were there at once! If I were a
Pythagorean, and believed that I must visit earth
again in some other Form, I would rather vegetate as
a quiescent Mushroom at once, than spring up either
a Hero or a Lover! Z3r 341 Fancourt runs in.

Fancourt.


Oh Mr Conway this is fortunate! I
called a minute since at your Lodgings to have the
honour of renewing former acquaintance. Your man
told me you was come hither. Knowing that you
were quite at home here—I have ventured to look
in upon you.

Con.

Cooly. Upon my word, I had some difficulty
in recollecting you, Mr Fancourt!

Fancourt.


Aye, you have still the Pride of Youth
about you. I am a little age-worn since we met last,
eh? The rubs of the World wear the Features!
Vexation hath graven a Line or two extra in mine
within this half hour.

Con.


Some young Beauty Sir, perchance, has been
inexorable to your Vows!

Fancourt.


Why I have not been perhaps turning
my thoughts much to my Vows of late. But, you
are thus far right, that a Woman, as usual, was the
soul of the mischief! But, as for Youth and Beauty
—Time o’er her cheek hath registered his reign, and
her Steps the Graces refuse any longer to assist.

Con.


Ha! ha! Can such a Lady as this cause you
pain Sir!

Fancourt.


Yes! for she is my dear and ever
honoured Wife!

Con.


Married!—You may be congratulated then,
Sir, on the turn you have taken to domestic life.

Fancourt.


Why, I have just this instant taken a
turn, from it and its Lectures, to see what I can of
life elsewhere.—A propos! I want to be introduced
also to Mr Asgill, and dropped in for the double
purpose.

Con.


Perhaps Sir, Mr Asgill may not cnhance to
have displayed any particular wish to receive you.

Fancourt.


Why, I dont know that he has. But, he Z3v342
keeps good company, and is Nephew to some rich
old Sir Simon in the City, who between loans and
lumber makes oney faster than he tells lies! There
are, however, an odd sort of three corner’d mortals
one can never close with. They present a point at
every turn. You may as easily come in contact with
a Porcupine. But, as I flatter myself I know every
body except himself, I looked in on purpose to ask
you to make us intimate.

Con.


That may not, under circumstances,
be very possible.—Pray Fancourt, how is it that you
get acquainted with every body, for—let me say it in
a Whisper—not whispering—report hath reached
me that your reputation of late is not of the very first
water!

Fancourt.


Pho! Pray, is the number of men great
—who are Diamonds in reputation!—French paste
does as well, and then one is not so afraid of damaging
it! If I were such a fellow as you, with a Character
of the true Water, I should be in eternal Anxiety,
should never dare to deviate an inch to Right or
Left—for fear of a speck here, or a flaw there. As
it is, I brush on through the World. My french
paste is showy, and if I lose it—I lose a thing of no
very great value!

Con.


Amazing!

Fancourt.


Hang me if I would be troubled with a
first-rate Character, any more than with a first-rate
Beauty, it would create but envy and malice.

Con.


Oh!—that talents should be thus enlisted in
the service of Vice!

Fancourt.


That I swear you learnt from our old
one-eyed proctor of Brazen Nose. I remember the
very words. I have heard them fifty times, whilst I
stood on his blind side!—That a man should thus
live on the scraps of others all his life, and never
dare coin a Principle for himself!—So, you wont Z4r 343
introduce me to Asgill? Conway shakes his head.
Very well, very well, I’ll introduce myself to an
Archbishop before I am a week older, and get a Prebend
in revenge! Conway bows him out. Enter Asgill, on the opposite side.

Con.


Asgill, I am come to disengage myself from
your hunting jaunt, I cannot leave Town.

Asg.


Very well. I shall not enquire your reasons;
nor shall I pretend to guess that you will be
in the train of a little Welch Diana, though not in
the hunt. You have not caught a glimpse of her I
dare swear.

Con.


Be not so daring—I have seen her, but I
have only seen her. She is as wild as one of the
Kids on her Father’s mountains!

Asg.


With whom did you see her?

Con.


Lady Horation Horton, she is so volatile that
it would be as easy to catch quick-silver.

Asg.


Lady Horatia!—I cannot say that she struck
me so. ’Tis true she does not want Life—but ’tis
the sweet Pensiveness of her Character tht charmed
me.—A thousand graces hang about pensiveness
which mere animal spirits destroy.

Con.


Why then I have not seen her in this humour.

Asg.


And then her Fine Taste!

Con.


Her Taste is as fine as other people’s I dare
swear; but I must admit that her intrinsic brilliance
will yet bear a little additional polish.

Asg.


Polish! ha! ha! ha! Where will you find
such a Mind, such an Understanding?

Con.


I doubt not its native excellence, and hope
to have the pleasure of drawing forth all its perfections.

Asg.


You!—How’s this! what mean you Sir? Of
whom are you speaking?

Z4v 344

Con.


Of whom do you speak?

Asg.


Of Lady Horation Horton!—Did you not
name her?

Con.


Ha! ha! ha! Confidence by chance! Dear
Asgill, I have blundered on your Secret very undesignedly
—I continued to speak of the daughter of
Sir Robert Floyer!

Asg.


You named Lady Horatia! and when her
idea presents itself to me, every other is absorbed in
it. Oh! Conway, to think of her is bliss, the sound
of her voice is rapture!

Con.


Hey-dey!

Asg.


You have the Secret by Chance! I am prepared
for all your jests on my passion for a woman
who is devoted to Sculpture!

Con.


Really I perceive no room for them. It must
be charming to see a fine woman bring from a mass
of marble—a form as graceful as her own; every
feature glowing with animation beneath her eye, and
every touch of the mallet awakening the cold mass
into Mind and Expression!

Asg.

Catching his hand. I thank you! But your
eulogy is not complete; the delicacy of my Horatia
rules the art that she loves, she seeks for models only in
the Graces of her own sex, the matrons of Greece,
and the daughters of Britain.

Con.


Well—but you are a Son of Britain. Does
then Lady Horatia disregard—

Asg.

Eagerly. Yes, no, I cannot tell.—She
treats me with rigour, yet I think her Heart is not
insensible. Though this appears, like the Sun in
chill November, unwillingly and by starts.

Con.


Why do you not lead then to an Explanation?

Asg.


I cannot; for she is rich, and I am, as you
know, but dependent on the will of an Uncle.

Con.


He has the reputation of being a Crœsus!

Z5r 345

Asg.


True. But a fortune, whose basis is Commerce,
may be doubled or dissolved in a month.

Con.


Well. Pray for me, my dear Asgill, that I
may catch my little Welch Fawn!—I have no prayers
to make for you; for I perceive your’s is one of
those sober passions that, end as it may, your mind
will keep its equilibrium. How delightful it must
be to love with so much good sense! Exit laughing.

Asg.


How he mistakes! The gay and the volatile
can scarcely sustain a passion like mine. It is when
Love has reached a serious and reflective mind, that
he rages with all his fury!— Enter Perkins.
Perkins, how now? your looks alarm me! What news
from the City?

Per.


Alas Sir!

Asg.


My good friend, speak. Something goes
wrong!

Per.


Would I were permitted to say your fears are
unfounded.—Your Uncle—

Asg.


Speak at once! I can bear any thing rather
than Suspense!

Per.


Summon all your Fortitude! Your Uncle,
the good Sir Simon, has sent me to say to you that
he is—undone!

Asg.


Ah! Pressing his forehead with his hand.
Undone!

Per.


The ruin that has shaken the trade of Europe
he could not be insured against. He, whose
rank on Change was as a two hundred thousand
pound man, may possibly at some future day, when
his Creditors are satisfied, not be able to command
a single thousand.

Z5v 346

Asg.

After a pause. Your news o’ercomes me.
Leave me Sir, I would ruminate alone. Exit Perkins. Throws himself into a chair.
My worthy, my unhappy Uncle! the tide of affliction
must roll heavily o’er him! Rises. It is determined!
I see Lady Horatia no more.—Never shall her delicacy
be insulted by seeing a beggar presume to hope for
her. Walks backward and forward. But, what can I
do? Bred to no Profession but the Navy, from Junior
rank in which, in reliance on my Uncle, I retired;
ignorant of every art by which independence may be
obtained, I am thrown out a Vagabond into the
wilderness of the world.—Each Prospect is clouded
—I yield me to Despair!

Goes off in agitation.
Z6r (347)

Act the Second.

Scene I.


Saint James’s street.

The palace, fruit shop,
&c.
Fancourt
in the Fruit Shop, talking to the
Mistress and eating Fruit.

Fancourt.

Looking out from the door. The Sun
always brings out Butterflies—a fine show of Women
to-day!— Enter Brisk,
walking across.

Brisk! Brisk!—hey!

Brisk.


Who is so familiar with my Name? Looking
round.
Ah—Fancourt! I have not seen you
this year or more? Fancourt comes from the Shop.
Well, my Boy, how goes the world?

Fancourt.


Round I suppose—for its Inhabitants
seem all giddy! Where have you been since we
parted at Bath?

Brisk.


Bath? Oh I have been in half a hundred
places since that time. The last was Italy!

Fancourt.


Italy! how got you thither? Was you
Bear-leader, holding the strings of some young Cub
dancing The Tour!

Z6v 348

Brisk.


How I chanced to be there you may hear
hereafter. But whilst there, man, I have acquired
the regular slang of the Connoiseur, and talk, with
equal ease, of Statues and Intaglios, of Pictures
Busts and Medallions! Wherever I go, I find fault
now—my Judgment is asked—my Satire is feared,
and, in regular form, I am courted and hated. ’Tis
to become of great importance, let me tell you, to
become a Critic in any thing!

Fancourt.


Why you dont pretend to me, a Friend,
that you are become a real Connoiseur—and know
any thing of the matter!

Brisk.


Why, I dont know what to say to that! but
I know how to judge by Rule! and to pretend to
any thing, now my affairs are got a little out of Order,
that will get me into a Dining Parlour or a
Wine cellar. My fame for Judgment I acquired by
a resolution to be inexorable, to repress, and not to
cherish, to look for faults instead of beauties, to
throw aside the Corn , and select the Chaff. I alike
pronounce upon Paintings, Statuary, and Old-Hock;
—know exactly the grapes from which the one was
pressed, and the age in which the other was chisell’d
or the taste in which it is executed.—Pshaw! man,
’tis easily got by Rote! I bought a book at Florence,
for a groat, that taught me all the Terms, and the
mode of applying them—two readings would make
you prattle and judge, as ell as any Connoiseur of
twenty years standing.

Fancourt.


Well, but how do you live?—Plainly,
how, in general, do you contrive to get any thing to
eat now?

Brisk.


Why, let me tell you, my Taste turns sometimes
to good Account! Some of my Rules procure
me that cheap, which other of my Rules enable me
to sell dear. Besides all this, lately I have eked out
a livelihood by the strong likeness I bear to Lord
Beechgrove
.

Z7r 349

Fancourt.


The Resemblance is certainly astonishing!
His has always been your nick-name—they call
you his Polygraph! But how have you raised any
thing by this resemblance—had he patronized you,
out of respect for the Likeness!

Brisk.


He has provided for me, without intending
it; for instance I went to a Rout Room in Portland
Place
last night, dashed into the Hall—complaining
of the croud of carriages that prevented
my Chariot from coming up! The Porter thought he
knew me, and announced Lord Beechgrove, but, in
the multiplicity of Titles that resounded up the
stairs, it was lost. The Lady of the house received
me, of course without being very inquisitive as to
whether she knew me. I gained introduction at a
Card Table, and brought off Two Hundred!

Fancourt.


I advise you to get his Lordship taken
up as the Impostor! and to enjoy his Estate!

Brisk.


I have taken a fancy to an Estate in another
County—a better Scheme my Boy! Slapping
him upon the shoulder.
A plan that forced me, the
other morning, into a strange Disguise! like Hercules,
to exchange my Cane for a Distaff, and—but
mum!

Fancourt.


Come, come, tell me—No, no, defer!
here comes a lovely Welch Girl, whose Father I
sometimes do the honour to look in upon. Enter Georgina, from Pall-Mall.
Followed by Humphrey

Georgina.


O dear Mr Fancourt! how do you do?
Nay, do not stop me. I hate to stand in the street—
they stare so!

Fancourt.


For that reason you do not hate to stand
in the street. What is Beauty—if it is not looked at?

Brisk.

Aside.—Oh, oh! I see where we are! I Z7v 350
know more of this young Lady and her Father,
though she knows me not, than you guess at mon
ami
!

Humphrey.


While these Gentlemen be a talking
to Miss, I’ll just step in here for a hap’eth of
Apples! Goes into the Fruit Shop.

Fancourt.


How came you here without your Carriage!

Georgina.


It is so charming a morning, that I directed
it should follow from Pall Mall, where I have
been shopping. Nay, I beg you let me pass! Why
—where is my servant? Looking round. I am
going to Lady Horation Horton’s, on the most Particular
business in the world! Humphrey bursts out of the shop.

Humphrey.


Oh! such extortioning! such cheatery!
—I never heard the like!—I wonder they are not afraid to
stand in their shoes!

Georgina.


What is the matter Humphrey?

Humphrey.


Miss! as I hope to be——I did but
just pop into my mouth a little bit of a Peach—’twere
no bigger than a walnut—it went down at a gulp
like a pill—and they have made me pay a Shilling
for it!

Georgina.


Why, how could you think of going
into such a Shop?

Humphrey.


Such a Shop! why not? A shop’s a
shop, if honest people did but keep it, and as free
for one as another!

Georgina.


Follow me Sir! I am ashamed of your
Noise.—He is quite a Character Mr Fancourt—we
have him for his Whim! Exit.

Humphrey.


A Shilling! Upon my say-so, if—aye
—I’ll mark you, never fear! Exit, holding up his fist.

Brisk.


She is a lovely Girl! An Heiress you say?
Aside.—I’ll pretend Ignorance for the present!

Z8r 351

Fancourt.


She is. We’ll speak of that hereafter.
—Her Father is coming towards us from the Park,
and we may as well first turn our thoughts upon him
for a Loan or so. He is a rich old fool, and we are
two Wits. Folly has been the natural food of Wit,
since the sun first threw his stimulating glance on
man.

Brisk.


I understand you! Ways and Means are to
be raised upon him. but, no assistance—unless we
halve the Loan! Remember that—fair half or nothing.

Fancourt.


Why to be sure.

Brisk.


Are you upon Honour!

Fancourt.


To the last breath. The old Fool, in
ten words, for here he comes, was of use in the late
Election, and the Parliament-man advised him to
come up to Town—to receive acknowledgments
from the Minister! He was afraid to leave his Daughter
behind, so wisely brought her up too—— Enter Sir Robert Floyer. Running towards him. My dear Sir, how I rejoice
to see you! I called at your hosue to return thanks
for the——

Sir R.


Oh!—not a Word, not a Word, Mr Fancourt!
—Silence will oblige me!

Fancourt.


It shall soon be repaid Sir.—Permit me,
Sir Robert, to make you known to my Lord Beechgrove!

Sir R.


Lord Beechgrove!—Whispering.—Is he
not related to the Duke of——

Fancourt.


First Cousin, and his most particular
Adviser!

Sir R.


My Lord, I am your Lordship’s very obedient
and humble servant!

Brisk.


Sir Robert I am rejoiced to see you!—we
have long looked for you in Town! I have heard you Z8v 352
much spoken of at a certain table. We know our
Friends, Sir Robert!—Pray, Mr Fancourt, bring Sir
Robert
to dine with me! I am sorry to leave you,
but it is a Cabinet morning—and the concerns of the
Country ought to be attended to, you know! Exit.

Fancourt.


Oh! your Lordship never neglects Business!
—They are not all like this peerless Peer, Sir
Robert
!

Sir R.


Aye, there he goes into the Palace I see!
Mr. Fancourt, I am prodigiously obliged to you for
making me known to his Lordship.—Of large Fortune
of course!

Fancourt.


Oh yes!—but, slack in the ready at
present, that’s in fashion with the Peerage
you know—every walk of life has its Customs!
It is amazing what vast sums he has expended for
the Public!—He was just asking me if I knew any honest man who
could lend him a thousand. His
mere name would procure ten times as much from
the Jews, but, he has never any Jew dealings—no
habits of that sort!

Sir R.


Perfectly right and proper!

Fancourt.


He only wants it for a Month—just till
the Quarter’s rents come in.—Sir Robert! this is an
Opportunity! you arrive in Town with a Good
Omen! He has indescribable Interest! A single
sentence, whilst they are drinking their Burgundy,
would effect your Business!

Sir R.


Indeed! what—dispose of places of trust
over their Bottle!

Fancourt.


I’ll show you now. This is my Glass holding up his Glove, formed like a Glass.—You
shall be the Great Man; we’ll suppose his name to
be Snapper, and I am Lord Beechgrove.—Come
Snapper! here’s to the Girl we love Sips—I
say, Snapper, we must do something for that Welch
Knight you know, he who was Sheriff there t’other
day—

AA1r 353

Sir R.

InterruptingHigh
Sheriff for the County!

Fancourt.


Pardon me!—High
Sheriff for the
County! Sips.“He is the saddest old rascal.— Sir Robert stares. He is the greatest Sips the
greatest Enemy we have in the Principality.”

Sir R.

In a Passion. Why Sir, what do you
mean? They never had a Friend! I spent more
money to favour the cause than I care to own. I
was for ever on horseback; there was not a Cottager
who could influence the sixteenth cousin of a Voter
whom I did not canvass and entertain; and the fact
is, it was solely owing to me—

Fancourt.


What! Do you take Lord Beechgrove
for such a ninny as to plead your Services!—You
are a mere Chicken in politics! Listen.—“I say,
Snapper, he is a powerful Opponent, we must have
him in future on our side! Sips The old scoundrel
killed his set of Coach greys, and fifteen Welch
ponies, in riding about the country to oppose us. Sips He has been a dreadful nemy, but, he is related
to all the Ap Morgans and the Ap Shoneses
in three Counties. In short! we must have him!
So—here goes—The Girl we love!”
—Thus the one
swallows the Girl, the other the Hint, and the business
is done!—Will you lend the Thousand?

Sir R.


I will!—What, I suppose, that is what you
call—sliding a man up the back stairs!

Fancourt.


—Only for a Month!

Sir R.


Nay, if it is for six weeks—I shall not
stand upon a Fortnight.

Fancourt.


Thus it is to deal with a man of a liberal
and enlightened Spirit!

Sir R.


Call upon me after Dinner, I am hurried
just now. Our Member lives in the next street, and
I am going to him. But Mum about this, for I expect
him to do something too! I’ll write a Draft on
my Banker for the Thousand in readiness for your
call—I think it right to oblige a Lord! Exit.

Vol. II. AA AA1v 354

Fancourt.


To him who is rich in Expedients—
what mischief is it to be pennyless?—Let Plodders
boast their digging and their labouring—it is our’s
to gather the fruit!

Exit.

Scene II.


Lady Horatia’s drawing room.
Enter Humphrey, with a white robe on his arm.
A Servant meets him.

Humph.


Here! I have a brought this odd Garment
for Miss away from the Carriage—What is she
going to do with it?

Maid.


Why she is going to be made one of my
Lady’s Images—all over White!

Humph.


Could a body zee that fine place they do
talk about, where Madam do cut folks out of Marble!

Maid.


Perhaps you may get a Peep presently, by
carrying in the Dress. It is called The School.

Humph.


Zooks! I be glad to hear Great Folks do
go to a School! for then they do want to larn better
some of them mayhap as well as I!

Exeunt.
AA2r 355

Scene III.


A spacious apartment.

With a few Pictures, several Female Statues
Urns Vases &c.
Lady Nelville walks down from the top.
Viewing them.

Lady N.


This is indeed a School! Here are
Models of all that is valuable in the art she loves.
Ah!—the lovely Artist herself! Enter Lady Horatia.

Lady Hor.


Dear Nelville I rejoice to see you!
They did not tell me you were here.

Lady N.


Oh I have been delighting myself with
your charming works. But, what excessive Labour
your amusement must require!

Lady Hor.


I do not find it so!

Lady N.


How delightful is the ease of fashionable
life compared to it.

Lady Hor.


Oh, you mistake quite—the labour of
a fashionable life would kill me! I should sink under
it. Chipping Marble is playing with feathers compared
to it.

Lady N.


How so?

Lady Hor.


The discipline of a life of Fashion
is by no means of the midlest sort! Consider
the necessary vigilance and abstinence of the
Gamestress.—She works hard, and lives sparingly;
for, if she does not keep her Spirits perfectly cool, AA2 AA2v 356
instead of cheating her friend, her friend may cheat
her! My labours are lighter and more innocent than
her’s.

Lady N.


I perceive you will be able to defend
yourself!

Lady Hor.


Reflect on the Toils of a determined
Beauty!—Whether she wakes or sleeps, whatever
she does, wherever she goes, it is all with relation to
the one great object that engrosses her meditations.
After hours of labour in the hard work of the Toilette,
away she must spring!—Her wheels thunder through
the streets—she darts from Concert to Ball, from
Ball to Rout.—Does the Music of the Concert
fascinate her?—No. Does polished Conversation
interest her?—No.—Some other Beauty has been the Belle of the Evening—her Heart has been torn with
Envy!—She returns home, drags off her ornaments
in Disgust, and throws herself in anguish on a couch
which no soothing sleep visits!—Are my labours
more severe, more painful than her’s?

Lady N.


You are too strong for me in argument;
so I drop your Statues to talk of Yourself. Something
I see is wrong! What is it?—Tenderly Come
be explicit!—You will not speak! In plain language,
when did you see Mr. Asgill!

Lady Hor.


Not this week, not for the whole
week!—I will conceal nothing from you. I find now
that my Tenderness more than equals his, I have no
joy left, the Chisel drops from my hand, the Marble
is no more moulded into flesh, my taste has no more
employment, my Heart is breaking!

Lady N.


How do you account for his Absence?

Lady Hor.


Tired of my distant coldness, he has
forsaken me, he has found some object more amiable
and more tender—I die with self-reproach! I knew
he loved me, I gloried in my conquest—

AA3r 357 “Yet still I tried each fickle art, Importunate, and vain, And whilst his passion touched my Heart, I triumphed in his pain!”


Asgill! thou art revenged!

Lady N.


What Hearts we possess! Always too
cold, or too feeling! My dear Horatia, as you give
spirit to Marble, transfuse some portion of marble
into your Heart, and make it firmer!—Here is your
little Welch friend! Enter Georgina

Georgina.


Oh Lady Horatia! I’m so rejoiced—
bless me you are weeping—what has happened?

Lady N.


A favorite Goldfinch has happened to
die away my dear, that’s all!

Georgina.


And, last night, I lost my Canary Bird.
I am sure I cried for half an hour!—Give me your
Goldfinch, and we’ll bury them together!—Oh! or
you shall copy them in Marble—that will be such a
sweet task for you!—But, you remember what I have
hurried here for?

Lady Hor.


No.

Georgina.


Why, have you forgotten your appointment
with me for this morning—to proceed with
giving my form to the Statue of Andromache? I
assure you that I have been pouting all day, that my
face may represent her grief for the loss of her husband
—Oh! there she is!—Pointing to a block of
Marble slightly chipped
You see, Lady Nelville,
she has not changed her first dress yet.

Lady Hor.


My Love, your spirits are too high,
and mine are too low, for us to proceed to day—
excuse me!

Georgina.


Oh, but I wont though!—Your favorite AA3v 358
work will revive you.—I have brought the Dress you
described for the purpose.—Humphrey! why dont
you bring it in? Enter Humphrey with the Dress.
Walks round in awkward wonder before he goes
out.

I shall be sadly mortified, if you send me away!

Lady N.


Come, take your Chisel Lady Horatia,
it will amuse you.

Georgina.


Yes do!—’Twas very fortunate that I
lost little Canary now. It will make me look just
sad enough for Hector’s Widow!

Lady Hor.


Pho! you little Chit!—Well, get on
the Pedestal. Georgina runs up the steps behind
it.
There—lean on the broken Column, with proper
pensiveness and grace.

Georgina.


O my poor Canary Bird!

Lady Hor.


Ha! ha! ha! Come, let us place your
Drapery in Statue-like order. They place it in stiff
folds.
Now, keep steady, and think of poor Dick! Enter Servant.

Serv.


Mr Conway.

Lady Hor.


Who!

Serv.


Mr Conway.

Georgina.

Starting from her Attitude. Dear!—
Mr Conway? Springs down.

Serv.


Some Gentlemen are with him. They request
permission to see the School.

Lady Hor.


Dear Lady Nelville, receive them then.
I cannot—I cannot indeed! Exit.

Georgina.


Now I think of it, I have a great mind
to run up again. I will, I declare, and see what Mr
Conway says of me as a Statue!

Lady N.


A Statue! Why surely you do not expect
to impose upon him?

AA4r 359

Georgina.


Oh yes, I do. I’m sure he wont find
me out! Runs up. Now, just place the Drapery
right, and I’ll put down my veil a little on this side.
Oh! make haste! make haste! I hear them coming!

Lady N.


I must gratify you! What a giddy thing you are! Enter Conway Followed by Brisk and some Gentlemen.

Brisk.


Oh, what this is the place! Dont mind
me, Madam, dont mind me!—As the Lady artist is
not here, I am free to make observations perhaps as
cutting as her chisel—I run about Town to display
a little acuteness!—’Tis a pleasant Town to be in,
that is certain, one always finds subjects to ridicule.
—Well, what wonderful productions am I to see?

Lady N.


Glance around Sir. Look first at the
few Pictures there are. What think you of that
Family by Raphael?

Brisk.

Raphael!—Ah! the tramontâne! how can
you give that divine Artist a name so barbarous.— RafaelloTitiano. Raphael
and Titian
suit only
the mouths of Dutch Burgomasters and London
Aldermen.

Lady N.


I stand corrected Sir!—What think you
of that Landscape and Figures by a Modern?

Brisk.


One may plainly see this Artist was in a
hurry—they call it Freedom.—In general however I
rather like his Stile. But—a—I dont know! The
principal persons here are not well grouped, nor
sufficiently in Relief. The Episode has Merit; but
the rules of Perspective have been entirely overlooked
—the Figures in the back-ground seem sticking
to the Clouds!

Lady N.


Oh mercy, let us turn from the Pictures!
All I see will fall your prey!—’Tis lucky for Posterity
Sir, that you were not born in the days of Corregio
and RaphaelRafaello, I beg pardon! you would AA4v 360
have made the first throw away his Pencils, and the
last light his fire with his Cartoons!—Come Sir, perhaps
you prefer our Statuary—look at the works of
our Hostess.

Brisk.


I, warm from the Schools of Florence! I,
who have trod the Roman Way, have seen the Baths
of Trajan, and the Dog Kennels of Nero! I look at
the works of any English Block-chipper! Ha! ha!
ha!—Now for my Glass—I know not how it happens,
but Connoiseurs are apt to be short sighted! Walking
amidst the Statues, and observing them through his
Glass.

Conway.


Heavens! it is—but let me get on the other
side of the Veil—it is she!—Ah! how exactly you
are now Yourself!—you are evr yourself but Marble.
Yes, your petrified Heart is evr cold and insensate.
Yet, I could stand and gaze, and gaze, like Pygmalion,
had I, like him, the power to inspire my Statue
with Love. Will you not bless me with one glance?
Ah! as an unbending Statue—you are quite in
character.

Brisk.


Here’s an Arm! faith it would make a very
good Leg! And this Grecian Dame—has been
modelled from a Kentish Hop-picker!

Con.


Critic! approach a little this way! Here is
a new Subject—has not this beauteous creature the
tpure Grecian character?

Brisk.


Here move this way, move this way all of
you; for an exact view—always draw off to a Distance!
—What is that?—is that Lady Horatia’s chisel? Looking through his Glass.

Con.


No——it is by a greater Artist!

Brisk.


Call you it Grecian?

Con.


Is it ill proportioned?

Brisk.


Pshaw! nonsense! talk of Proportions to
Rule makers and Carpenters; the thought is mechanical.
—This is a mere wax Doll!—What Anatomy!
the natural form is not capable of one of AA5r 361
these Inflections! A human figure formed on this
principle, I pledge myself, could never move! Approaches her.

Georgina.

Shrieks But I can though! Springs
down
—and I can dance too!— Dances round him. Brisk seats himself, in confusion, on the
Pedestal.

Con.


Ha! ha! ha!—Why Sir, the Figure moves—
and moves a Grace!—The breathing form of Beauty
a Wax Doll! the work of a Block chipper! ha! ha!
ha!

Brisk.

Aside.—The very girl against whom I have
a Scheme to put in practice! The Story too will be
on wing immediately! Oh! had I but a Glance
first on the other side of the Drapery of the Head!

Lady N.


Accept my smelling bottle sir—you seem ready to sink!

Con.


Dont fear it!—’Tis a recumbent Statue on
its Pedestal you see, a mere Block—incapable of
Motion!

Brisk.


Whu! I am done as a Connoiseur!— Starts up, and runs out.

Lady N.


Mr Brisk! Critic Brisk! Exit, followed by all but Conway and Georgina.

Con.


Ha! ha! ha! done indeed!—They pursue
him like small birds after a Hawk.

Georgina.


Why you are the person whom I wanted
to make a fool of—pray follow him!

Con.


’Tis impossible!—I find you have turned me
into a Statue that can’t move!

Georgina.


I declare Mr Conway I will not hear
you, I have told you so twenty times. And, as to
your begging and praying and sighing, one finds such
things in Novels; but no man, who really loves,
thinks of such fooleries.

Con.


How do you know that?

Georgina.


I am sure of it! There was a young
man that came down to Glamorganshire from College, AA5v 362
and almost broke his Heart about me, and he never
begged and prayed, or sighed—at least no so as
that I could hear him, once.

Con.


Then how—how—I say, were you sure he
loved you!

Georgina.


How!—Oh, I was sure enough of it.

Con.


Was he always telling you so—throwing
himself forever in your way?

Georgina.


He never told me so once— and it was
because he always ran away from me that I knew it.
—At last however he had a Fever, and, in his ravings,
he talked of no one but me.

Con.


How pray did you know it!

Georgina.


Why, his Sister told me so.

Con.


And—and did you pity him!

Georgina.


Why yes I pitied him—as I could not
love him! If I had loved him—I should not have
pitied him at all!

Con.

Aside. That saves my Life!

Conway.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—And where
is he now?

Georgina.


I dont know. But I have heard he is
recovered, and makes a great figure somewhere—
they always get over it!

Con.


If you should not love me—I however should
absolutely die!

Georgina.


Love! I wouldn’t be in love for all the
World!—Miss Gwatkin, our Neighbour, was in love
once—and she grew as pale as horse-radish. Foolish
creature, if she had kept her colour—perhaps the
Gentleman would have liked her!

Con.


Oh! let me teach you to love. I see you
are as ignorant of it as—

Georgina.


As that Mr Brisk was of Sculpture!—
Ha! ha! teach me to love! What, teach me to be
wretched to weep, to be sleepless—to lose my bloom
like Miss Gwatkin?—If I ever thought I could love
you, I should hate you beyond all bearing—fly from
you, and never see you more! Runs off hastily.

AA6r 363

Con.


She flies—a happy Omen! Let her but dread
me, and I have advanced one step. If she fears to
love, the conquest is half atchieved!

Exit.

Scene IV.


A counting house.
Enter Sir Simon and Perkins.

Sir Simon.


Has not my Nephew been here yet?

Per.


He was here last night Sir. I took care that
he should see no one but me. He went away in such
distress, that my heart ached for him.

Sir Simon.


Dear Lad!

Per.


Here he comes—here he comes!

Sir Simon.


How shall I speak to him? I have given
myself a Commission that I can hardly execute— Enter Asgill.
My dear Boy!

Asg.


Oh Sir, what shall I say to you—words cannot
utter—

Sir Simon.


Come come, hope the best!—perhaps
Proceeds may not turn out so badly!

Asg.


Yes, I will hope and pray for you. But—in
the mean time—presenting a Parchment—Sir—I
am ashamed—I blush at such an offering. But, it is
my all—

Sir Simon.


What—what is it you mean?

Asg.


You know I have, by Inheritance, a little
Land—two hundred only a year—that it were thousands!
—In this parchment Sir, it is made over to you.
And now. Sir Simon takes it, is much moved, and
turns from him..
Oh! my more than Father! Hurries out.

AA6v 364

Sir Simon.


Stop stop—my dear Sidney stop!—I
can no longer conceal the deception we have practised!

Per.


Let him go Sir! let him go! Such a moment
as this renovates every proper feeling in the
heart of man. He will be the better for this affliction
as long as he lives!

Sir Simon.


Does he not deserve all my love, all my
anxiety, all my care!

Per.


He does—he does!

Sir Simon.


This Lady Horatia must be an angel if
she merits him.—Now for the Effect the news of his
Poverty will have upon her! I must wait on her
myself to learn the Needful, and see how she takes
the news. But for a distrust, which I cant help, of
these west-end-of-the-Town Ladies he would not
have been put to this pain, even for the short time
he will have to endure it. But, I can’t rid myself
of my distrust—my plain City notions have a native
enmity to them.

Per.


Then you persist in your intention of going
Sir.

Sir Simon.


Yes. But, if I find her worthy of my
Sidney—but she cannot be! Birth, Beauty, and
Riches, are all fine subjects for Consideration. But,
when put into a scale against innate Goodness, an upright
mind, rectitude of Character—it is weighing
dross against Jewels!

Exeunt.
AA7r (365)

Act the Third

Scene I.


Fancourt’s.
Enter Mr and Mrs Fancourt.

Mrs. F.


Affected pleasantry, Mr Fancourt, is the
poor refuge of an uneasy Heart! The conversation
that has passed in the next room with Brisk I have
in part heard. I fear you have a deed in contemplation
which will hereafter load you with Remorse!

Fancourt.


Remorse!—ha! ha!

Mrs. F.


Pray do not think that every just complaint
is to be carried off by a Laugh.

Fancourt.


Not carried off by a Laugh! Let me
tell you, my Dear, that as long as a man can contrive
to raise a Laugh he may carry off any thing he pleases.
With the World, make wickedness pleasant—you
are soon forgiven!

Mrs. F.


But sir, remorse of Heart cannot be so
allayed!

Fancourt.


Why that I have never been troubled
with, except when I have got no fruit from any of
the little odd eccentricities which you, in vulgar
dialect, call Crimes, and could not get the laugh on
my side.

Mrs. F.


What—does the World then laugh even
at Crime!

AA7v 366

Fancourt.


Oh yes a sly laugh—when they dont
suffer by it! A man will be mad tha is choused
out of a thousand pounds, but, if his Neighbour is
nicked out of it, he laughs, and says—“Ah! that is,
I am afraid a sad wicked fellow, but clever —the
Dog’s clever!”

Mrs. F.


Disgusting!

Fancourt.


So, if a Woman falls, the injured Husband
rages—but his Friend simpers—

Mrs. F.


Is it so Sir! and pray how then is it
when a scheme is laid—for the ruin of a Daughter!

Fancourt.


A Daughter! oh! oh! I catch the keynote!
—What you heard enough for that just now
did ye—heard what Brisk said about Sir Robert’s
Daughter?

Mrs. F.


I did!

Fancourt.


Woman! no scheme is agreed on between
us—Brisk will not impart his intended mode
of procedure. In all events, my Dear, do you keep
Silence! or, if you do not, I’ll slit that nimble tongue
of your’s, and make it chatter double like a Starling’s! Exit.

Mrs. F.


I cannot restrain myself! A plot laid
for the ruin of a Child—for the bitter anguish of a
Father! Pauses. I will! I may in Disguise atchieve
what, lest he should hear of me, I dare not encounter
the risk of attempting in my own character. Fancourt returns.

Fancourt.


Hark ye Woman! lest you should mistake
the lively humour I have shown, I tell you that
if you dare to utter, to whisper with the slightest
breath, what your impertinent Curiosity has put you
in possession of, every Misery that I can inflict awaits
you! I have a Dagger She Starts —not to take
your life! but to wound your Mind. A Secret that
will inflict torture here indeed!

AA8r 367

Mrs. F.


I tremble at all you can threat—yet I
bid you remember—that the young creature whose
welfare and peace you design to ruin, is the daughter
of the man who, touched by your Distresses, sent
you, but yesterday, noble relief!

Fancourt.


Yesterday is past, and a thousand tomorrows
are to come. I must provide for them! my
opportunities are few—my Wants are pressing!

Mrs. F.


Mr. Fancourt!—is thus then Poverty
the nurse of Virtue?—May it not thus at times be
the source of depravity, and its wretchednes,
brought on by idleness, debase the Heart at least
as much as Affluence and Splendor?

Fancourt.


Woman! I cannot argue—Remember! Exit.

Mrs. F.

After a Pause.—How selfish necessity
doth chill the Heart!—on Prudence how
many other Virtues depend! Poverty thou hast
a thousand Evils besides mere Want—thou art the
precursor of almost every ill!—But, this young creature
shall not be victim to its necessities. I must
devote myself to save her. I feel it a Duty! and
will not be deterred!

Exit.

Scene II.


Lady Horatia’s. The statuary room.
Enter Sir Simon Asgill, followed by a Servant.

Sir Simon.


Yes, tell your Lady—Sir Simon Asgill
from the City.—Walking up and examining the Statues
Why, what an odd place is this?—Your Servant,
Madam bowing to the Figure of a Woman
Why, you look as melancholy as the wife of a lame
duck just waddled home from the Alley.—Why
here’s another The Shield of Minerva. with what?
—serpents on her Head instead of Hair! the fashion AA8v 368
in some barbarous wild-country I suppose.—What
Wonder next?—oh! here comes the Lady herself! Enter Georgina
Lady Horation Horton, I am your most obedient
Servant!

Georgina.


Sir I am—making a low curtesy—your
very—

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside

I, Lady Horatia!—ha! ha! ha! I
wonder who he is!

Sir Simon.


My Lady! I wait on you on a melancholy
occasion.

Georgina.

Aside.—I’ll keep it up!

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Then Sir I
wish you had staid away. I hate melancholy—and
this is my Birth-Day! I am this day delightful Eighteen
—and I will not be made melancholy for any
thing!

Sir Simon.


Eighteen—my Nephew is ten years
older. A happy Age young Lady, the union of
youth and Judgment. Where I a Lady, I would
never take a Boy to guide me through life. Eightand-twenty
is the Age, and that is the age of my
Nephew.

Georgina.


Ha! ha! ha! And pray Sir—ha! ha!
ha! and pray—who is your Nephew!

Sir Simon.

Aside.—How flippant she is!

Sir Simon Asgill.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—My
Nephew Madam—

Sir Simon Asgill.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—I dont much like her!—


Sir Simon Asgill.[Speaker label not present in original source]

My Nephew is that unfortunate young man who has
been so long in love with you—Sidney Asgill.

Georgina.

Aside.—So! I shall have Lady Horatia’s
Secret now!—how I will plague her about Sidney
Asgill
!

Sir Simon.


I understand he has possessed your good
opinion.

Georgina.


Oh!—I cant say how much I admire
him!

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.—Ha! ha! I never saw him in my life!

Sir Simon.


It must give you, my Lady, considerable BB1r 369
pain to know that he is undone!—I am the
Uncle on whom he depends, but, the misfortunes of
Commerce—in short, Madam, if you will be so generous
as to marry him, you will marry a Beggar—
but consider his Merit!

Georgina.


I marry a Beggar on account of his
Merit!—Why Sir—ha! ha! ha!

Sir Simon.


Consider—how he loves you.

Georgina.


What signifies his love? A Beggar—I
am sure if my Papa should—

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—I forget, I am
Lady Horatia!

Sir Simon.


—Your father! why he was never mentioned
to me.

Georgina.


No Sir!—why if he should—

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Pho! I
blunder again!

Sir Simon.


Well, that’s not to the point. You say
you will not marry my Nephew because he is a beggar
—I am glad to hear you say it. You will not
marry poor Sidney Asgill, though he is dying for
you!

Georgina.


Certainly I will not!—

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—I am
safe in saying that, for to be sure Lady Horatia
wont marry a Beggar!

Georgina.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—I desire I may hear no more
of your Nephew Sir; a frighhtful ugly disagreeable
odd-temper’d Mortal! I can’t abide him!

Sir Simon.


Then, Madam, my Visit has answered
its purpose! But, as it would not be civil to correct
you, I have a great mind to lay my stick about your
Investment of Mummery here! In great Anger.
You say you will not marry my Nephew?

Georgina.


I do say I will not Sir!—I never will!
—the Winter shall scorch first, and the Summer
freeze.

Sir Simon.


Then, by my Credit on Change you
shall not—gazette me if you do!—I’ll look amongst
the girls in the City! We have, with more money, as
much beauty, and as much Goodness, east of Temple
Bar
, as can be found in all the Squares west of it. Vol. II. BB BB1v 370
So Madam I leave you—I leave you to your pale objects
of affection here—pointing to the Statuary.
Refuse my Nephew! I am glad of it!—I am glad of it!
He shall have a City Girl!—I have one in my eye—
ten times as handsome as you are—old Simon says
so! Exit.

Georgina.


Then, let him have a City Girl—Old
Simon! Ha! ha! ha! why what a Fury he went off
in! Enter Lady Horatia
—Oh! Lady Horatia I have been so diverted—ha!
ha! ha!

Lady Hor.


What has so amused you, my Dear?

Georgina.


Yes! yes! I know all about Sidney Asgill!
—Oh! how sly you were!

Lady Hor.


You amaze me!—Where is Sir Simon? Looking round.

Georgina.


Oh! here has been the queerest old Cit
here—storming and raving because I would not
marry his Nephew!

Lady Hor.


What can this mean?

Georgina.


But then—he took me for you! and
came to tell you that his Nephew is a Beggar, and
that he is dying, and I know not what stuff!

Lady Hor.


Mr. Asgill dying! Greatly alarmed.

Georgina.


Dont look so frightened—for love of
you, that’s all. But he’ll get over it—they always
do!

Lady Hor.


What does he say?—Sidney a Beggar!

Georgina.


Oh yes, he repeated that—as though it
was a Recommendation! You cant think what a
passion he went off in, because I vowed nothing on
earth should make me marry a Beggar—neither
would you, for you are more prudent than I. Going
and returning.
Oh! I had forgot!—the best of it is, BB2r 371
he swears his Nephew shall marry a City Beauty,
with a great large clumsy City fortune!

Lady Hor.


—Marry!

Georgina.


I should like to see the Bride. He declares
she is twenty times as handsome as I am—I
mean as you are!

Lady Hor.


Oh! you know not what you have
done!—Cruel Georgina! I shall appear to Sidney
mean, sordid, detestable!—For that he is in Poverty, he will think
that I renounce him! you have undone
me!—I am lost! Exit.

Georgina.


I certainly must have done something
wrong! But, to be sure she will not marry a Beggar;
and yet I dont know—perhaps she may! One hears
for ever of the Whims of Fine Ladies, sitting and
contriving what odd thing they shall do—to surprise
the Town with next!

Exit.

Scene III.


A drawing room at Sir Robert’s.

A noise without of Scolding.
Enter Jenny, followed by Humphrey

Jenny.


Such an impudent insolent Clown as you
are, you pretend for to talk, you! one who never
learnt his horn book!

Humph.


Better never larn a horn-book, than such
novel-books as you have learnt to read, you Trumpery!
I tell you I doant like your goings on, and I’ll
tell Master! You are always a filling Miss’s head
with stuff; and I doant like many things as I do
zee.

Jenny.


You see! you dont know what you see.

Humph.


Doant I? yes I do, and what I hear too!
I’ve a heard fine tales of you since I crossed over BB2BB2v372
Bristol Channel to live in Wales. Yes, yes, it is not
for Nothing that you are drawn forth in smart caps
of washed gauze and dyed ribbons, and ruffletytufflety;
and going half naked—as though you were
a Lady of Fashion! D’ye remember the Coptain
who used to come, on pretence of admiring the old
tattered velvet furniture that came out of Somebody’s
great-great-grandfeather’s Castle two hundred years
ago?— Enter Sir Robert and Fancourt

Sir Robert.


Hey-dey! Humphrey and Jenny run
off.
Quarrelling about my velvet tattered furniture!
I set a high value on it. The Rags of a man’s ancestry
ought to make him proud!—I would give
fifty acres for the rags of the old Doublet of that
Ancestor of mine who came over, you know, with
the Ambassador of King Priam.

Fancourt.


I am sorry you interrupted them. I like
those children of Nature! I am fond of natural Characters
unvitiated by Riches! No disguise—all open
Honesty.—What their Hearts prompt their tongues
utter!

Sir Rob.


True Sir, true! I am glad you like
plainness, and therefore venture bluntly to tell you,
Mr Fancourt, that the Draft I promised you for
your Friend, my Lord Beechgrove, I have altered
my mind about.

Fancourt.


Sir!

Sir Rob.


All that affair about Mr Snapper was
pleasant to be sure; but, I have met with treatment
that has stagger’d me a good deal.

Fancourt.

Aside.—Ruin!

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—Stagger’d Sir!

Sir Rob.


Yes Sir! I do not understand a man’s
wanting favours, and yet treating ill those who would
do him Service!

Fancourt.

Aside.—My Heart shrivels like scorched BB3r 373
parchment!

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—Treat you ill Sir! who has dared to
accuse me of treating you ill Sir Robert? I defy the
man, I defy the human being!—

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—I wish I
was well out of the house!

Sir. Rob.


Oh, Mr Fancourt, I have not the least
fear that you would use me ill. I believe it to be
impossible! No Sir, it is my Lord Beechgrove of
whom I complain. Why Sir, do you know I met
him in the Park just now—and he would not speak
to me—nay didn’t return my bow! though an hour
before he invited me to visit him, as you know——
Bless me! what’s the matter, Mr Fancourt!

Fancourt.

Smothering a laugh. Oh, Sir Robert,
I am seized with a Vertigo! it is sometimes very
troublesome—if I had a Glass of Water—

Sir Rob.


Here Thomas! Humphrey! I’ll go myself!
Exit.

Fancourt.


Ha! ha! ha! he has seen the real Lord
Beechgrove!
—Alas! but the Thousand is gone like
last month’s moonshine if I cant— Enter Brisk.
you double-face fellow, out of the house!—Away!

Brisk.


What has happened?

Fancourt.


What has happened! why Old Taffy has seen—out of the
house—stay not to ask Questions!
he has seen your Polygraph—that’s all.—Out
—out—here he comes! Brisk darts out. Enter Sir Robert, followed by a Servant
with a Glass.

Oh Sir Robert, you are very good! Drinks Every
Spring and Fall—I am better now! You were pleased
to say something Sir about my friend Lord Beechgrove.
Oh! I remember now—he met you and did
not know you!

BB3v 374

Sir Robert.


That was very odd though!—Says I
“My Lord! the thousand pounds which Mr Fancourt
spoke to me about”

Fancourt.


Did you? did you! Smothers Laughter
Well, Sir Robert, and what said my Lord?

Sir Rob.


Not a Word!—Stared as though I’d been
a new caught Monster! and yet, I had not changed
my Dress, though he had changed his. The differ
ence of Dress made me almost think once that I
might be mistaken—but, on looking again I thought
I was sure!

Fancourt.


Pray, what was his Dress Sir?

Sir Rob.


Regimentals.

Fancourt.


Regimentals?—

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

A hint for
Brisk’s Toilette!

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—Oh, he had his Regimentals
on—aye—he has one of the Regiments of Guards.
They change frequently—they dont stick to their Colours much—except in War!—Rather odd too,
not speaking, I confess, but a man whose head is
full of the military manœvres of all Europe must be
forgiven, if an acquaintance of no long standing slips
out of it for a moment.

Sir Rob.


Why I can make allowances Mr Fancourt.
I remember myself, when I was High Sheriff
for the County, I did happen to pass an acquaintance
or so, but then I made an Apology—after I
was out of Office! I shall expect an Apology from
my Lord at once, in office or not, for not returning
my bow, before I advance the thousand pounds.—A
thousand pounds is money Mr Fancourt.

Fancourt.


It is, it is money Sir—and it is quite
regular to be obsequious and bow for it! I will go
Sir and bring his Lordship. He dines to day at the
Duchesses in his own Square; but, I’ll engage to
bring him away in spite of Wit Beauty and Champaigne.

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

I’ll be a match for thee yet—old
Taffy!

Exit.

Sir Rob.


I wish my Lord would introduce me to BB4r375
dine at the Duchess’s. I never did dine at a Duchess’s
—it must be very delightful! I’d follow the modern
fashion, write down her smart sayings after my return
home, go back to Glamorganshire—and astonish my
neighbours!

Exit. Georgina enters laughing, followed by Jenny

Jenny.


Well Miss, I declare I dont see any thing
in the Alabaster Statutes, that you have been running
after, all of one Colour like a Duck’s egg. Give
me a fine large picture, with rich yellow windowcurtains
and Robes of Red and Blue!

Georgina.


Your Taste is excellent Jenny!

Jenny.


If you want to see Statuary all like life, go
to Mrs Silvertip’s.

Georgina.


Who is she?

Jenny.


Why a Lady who makes the finest Statutes
in the World, all of nice coloured wax.—There are
Generals and Sailors and Princésses—and Dukes and
old Women, all beautiful and more natural than life!

Jenny.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—If I can raise her Curiosity to go there—
Mr Brisk’s Fortune is made!

Georgina.


Dear Jenny! how can I see all this?

Jenny.


How? why by only going to her Exhibition
on Fish-Street Hill, that’s all.

Georgina.


Fish-Street Hill! Where is that?

Jenny.

Aside.—Hang me if I know!

Jenny.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—Oh Miss
every body knows where that is. ’Tis just by Grosvenor
Square
.

Georgina.


Would she teach me her art do you
think?—I might then surpass Lady Horatia!

Jenny.


Oh, to be sure!—They teach Ladies all
sorts of Arts you know now Miss.

Georgina.


The first use I would make of it would
be—to imitate the features of Mr Conway! I should
then be able to look at him without blushing, and
talk to him without his knowing it.

BB4v 376

Jenny.

Petulantly.

Mr Conway indeed!

Georgina.


Oh yes—I will—I will learn the Art!
—I know his countenance so well I could soon imitate
it. And yet tenderly there is sometimes a
look of Goodness that no Art can imitate!

Jenny.

Aside.—Mischief’s in the look I say!

Jenny.[Speaker label not present in original source]


Well Miss I’ll carry you there to morrow. But, Sir
Robert
must not know it!

Georgina.


Oh, not for the world!—I’ll go!—I’ll
go!—I’ll go! Runs off.

Jenny.


Yes, so you shall! But Mr Conway shall
gain nothing by it.—You have a large Fortune my
Dear, and are handsmoe; Mr Brisk is handsome,
and has no Fortune; but will pay out of your’s a
full consideration for effecting so proper a match!

Exit.

Scene IV.


Asgill’s lodgings.
Enter Asgill and Conway

Asg.


’Tis in vain! Never, Conway, will I sue for
Compassion to a proud Beauty, who treated me with
Haughtiness—even when she believed me Heir to
large Possessions!

Con.


Loveliness and Pride should in some degree
be associated. Sanction not the vulgar railing against
the Haughtiness of conscious beauty.—She who over values herself will never sink low. And the
Lady of whom we speak perhaps loves you.

Asg.


For that very reason I will not again appear
before her. I will not raise a conflict in her bosom
between her pride and her tenderness, and owe at
length perhaps to her Compassion, the acceptance
—to which Love would never have brought her.

Con.


You are very nice! If my Heart were not BB5r377
pre-occupied, and so fine a woman would condescend
to make me master of herself and her fortune, I
would not quarrel with her about the Motive, but
thank the pretty creature, and cherish for her all the
Love I could.

Asg.


But you are a man of Fortune—your motive
would not be suspected to be mean! By this time I
suppose people begin to talk of my distressed state.

Con.


I have heard it mentioned. A Lady observed
that it was pity a man so handsome—(what
think you of that!) should sink thus. Her Husband
said, he was sorry too—for that he thought you
were a good kind of young man.

Asg.


Good kind of young man!—I dont much
like that sort of approbation. Conway seems s
prised.
Do not imagine that I wish for the reputation
of a bad heart!—But the terms “Good kind of
young man”
are sometimes applied with so little
discrimination, that I desire not to be honoured
with them. For instance—An idle fellow who hangs
loose on society without avocation or merit, or one
who perhaps even corrupts the sister of his friend,
or runs away with his daughter, is, in excuse, still
said to be, after all, though a little irregular—“a
good kind of young man enough!”
—I disclaim the
title. Enter Servant

Serv.


Sir, here is the person you ordered from
Tower-hill. Slopseller, I think he calls himself. Exit.

Con.


Slopseller!—How do you translate that?—
—Apothecary I suppose.

Asg.


Ha! ha!—No, I assure you. A Tower-hill
Slopseller does not deal in emulsions and syrups, he
—but you must excuse me telling you what he deals in.—My
dear Conway! I am becoming somewhat BB5v 378
grave and dull—so Adieu!—Often think of me, and
speak of me as I may deserve, but the trouble of
sighing forth that I am—a good sort of young man
—you may spare yourself!

Con.


Asgill, though there is some pleasantry in
your manner, there is also a seriousness that shocks
me!—What are you going to do?

Asg.


What I ought to do! Do you imagine I intend
to stay at home, to parade Bond Street and
pace the promenade of Saint James’s Street and Pall
Mall
? No, no, my fever’d brain cannot be cooled
by such expedients!—’tis only the powerful voice of
my Country can regulate its distraction. My arrangements
are made, my resolution is fixed.—Farewell!

Con.


Is then the fervour, sprung of the agitation
of this moment, nobly directed to the service of
your Country!

Asg.


I was placed you know in the Navy. On
my Father’s death, my Uncle declared me his Heir.
I had but advanced to the Rank of Lieutenant when
he took me from the Service. Now, when I have
no riches to assist in supporting those who fight for
my Country, again will I serve iher in my own person!

Con.


Do your private woes find relief but in that
powerful principle—this is indeed patriotic love!
Not to oppose so noble a resolve is, though difficult,
a Duty! Farewell then, my Asgill, until a change
of fortune. In the mean time, you know how truly,
if you can prevail upon yourself to condescend, you
may command mine! Exit.

Asg.


He goes in tears. The dew that manly
Friendship forces to the eye, is a voucher for
the Heart that speeds it thither!— BB6r 379 Enter Slopseller, with a bundle.
Have you brought the Uniform?

Slopseller.


Yes, Sir.—Every thing else is sent on
board. Lays down the bundle.

Asg.


This sight revives a warm glow in my bosom!
In the Sailor’s habit what Heroes have bled!
—what gallant acts have been atchieved! Those
who have worn it have given Britain the extension
of her Empire—high-water mark over the whole
globe!

Man.


Aye Sir, they say in our shop it was your Raleighs, your Drakes, and your Boscawens,
who
did all that!

Asg.


Whilst, in grateful retrospection, we twine
Laurels around the tombs of the Heroes that are departed,
our Country must not forget what is due to
those of our own day! It is this that will cause other
Raleighs Drakes and Boscawens to start forth like
Meteors, and glide Britain’s naval empire—blazing in glory! Exit, pressing the Dress to his breast.

Man.


Aye—these are the fellows!

Exit.
BB6v BB7r (381)

Act the Fourth

Scene I.


Lady Horatia’s drawing-room.
She enters rapidly.

Lady Hor.


Yes—order the horses instantly! and
yet—no—I shall not want them!—Go to his Uncle
in the City! How strange that will be!—but, can I
hesitate on decorums when Existence is at stake?
Can I suffer Sidney Asgill to believe that Georgina’s
fooleries are my Sentiments? Can I suffer another,
whilst I appear despicable, to have the Privilege of
raising him from Poverty!——Ah! Mr Conway! Enter Conway

Con.


I darted hither the moment I received your
commands.

Lady Hor.


My Commands! Sir, I only sent to
ask—it was only with an intention to—Much confused.

Con.


Speak, Lady Horatia!—A Pause.—Do me
the honour to repose confidence in me!

Lady Hor.


Perhaps I may—I believe I ought—
but—in one moment what will you think of me? Walks a little way in extreme agitation, then returns.
Yet, I must speak—for the conflict is too great for
me to endure. You are the Friend of Asgill—the BB7v 382
friend of his youth—the chosen of his heart—He
bows
—permit me then to ask, did you ever hear
him name any other Lady as one — with whom he
wished to unite his fate?

Con.


Oh, never! You, I full well know, have been
the first and only object of his affection.

Lady Hor.


Then find him out—pursue him! —
What have I said? my soul shrinks at the sound of
the words I have uttered!

Con.


Would my Asgill’s ear could have caught
them!—Go on Lady Horatia.

Lady Hor.


Go on! Alas! need I add another
sentence!—You see that—humble me not too far
—for I am proud! Had Asgill continued the Heir
of splendid possessions, perhaps my Pride would never
have abated; but, he is poor—he is undone!

Con.


Transcendent Woman!

Lady Hor.


My fortune is his—my Heart!

Con.


for him I thank you—you, so worthy of the
love of Asgill!

Lady Hor.


I feel your kindness in endeavouring
to relieve my Confusion. The step I have taken I should yesterday have
thought less easy than to die!
Permit me to leave you—nor dare to think with
resumed dignity
—that because my affection is strong,
my Conduct shall be weak! Exit.

Con.


What is the situation to which dignity of
Soul cannot lend a Grace? The very conduct which
in a vulgar mind would disgust, where there is such
elegance and virtue becomes fascinating.—Now
Asgill, I will dare to seek thee! to give such transport
to thy heart, as shall make thee feel the hour of
thy poverty the most precious of thy life!

Exit.
BB8r 383

Scene II.


Sir Robert Floyer’s library.
He enters in a bustle, followed by a Servant.

Sir Rob.


Show up his Lordship and Mr Fancourt
directly!—fly down. Sits Remember—never keep a Lord
in waiting! Exit Servant.
—No, I wont receive his Lordship sitting, that will
look like want of Respect! Rises.—I will be standing.
No—that will not be the thing either, for then
I shall have no opportunity of showing my Veneration
for him in my own house, by rising at his entrance.
No, I must sit, and—yes I’ve hit it—I’ll be
reading, deeply employed in reading! Then, when
the great man enters, I’ll start up and dash away
the Book!—Let me see, it shall be a large important
looking bok. I’ll get up and reach one down. Mounts the Library steps and takes one.Chambers’s
Dictionary
—that will do! Takes another
under the other arm
The fall of the Roman—
Bless me—here’s my Lord! Lord Beechgrove announced, Sir Robert
in his flurry tumbles with the Books, Fancourt
enters with Brisk dressed in Regimentals.
They help him up.

Sir Rob.


Oh—I am quite confounded! My Lord,
I beg your Lordships’ pardon a million of times!—
Mr Fancourt—my knee!—Rubs it.

Brisk.

Aside.—Well, here I am, in a new character,
under the roof with the old Fellow’s daughter
—however she knows me not!

Brisk.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Sir Robert, I am
much grieved

BB8v 384

Sir Rob.


Dont mind me!—reach his Lordship a
Chair! a most untoward accident—but pray accept
it as an Omen. You found me stretched at your
feet—I am the most humble of your servants!

Brisk.


Sir Robert, I have often heard of the Politeness
of the Welch Gentlemen, and you really confirm
all that can be said of them. The year in which
you was Sheriff, Sir Robert, was such a year of
splendor and magnificence as Glamorganshire will
long remember. We heard a vast deal of it at St.
James’s
! it amused the Royal Circle for a month!

Sir Rob.


Why, my Lord, I did my best on that
occasion. When I was High Sheriff for the County,
I neither spared myself nor my pruse. A hanging
in the morning, and an Assembly at night, dining
with the Judges to day, and to-morrow in consultation
with them and Jack Ketch about a new Gallows!—
such a variety of business, my Lord, demands a man’s
whole attention!

Brisk.


Certainly, certainly!—A little thing happened
this morning Sir Robert, which I assure you
has given me considerable pain—your address in the
Park! But, if a man is tossing in his mind thee compact
between Russia and Poland, and thinking of
going to St. Petersburgh Ambassador perhaps himself,
to revise one or two points that might be amended
—to be interrupted just at the moment in which he
fancies himself delivering the credentials of his office
to the Empress, and receving one of those delicious
Smiles which—

Fancourt.

Twitching him. You will go too far!

Brisk.


I say, Sir Robert, just at such a moment to
be addressed!

Sir Rob.


Oh, my Lord, no wonder that you overlooked
me! I am ashamed to have complained of
such a Trifle.

Fancourt.


Pray, my Lord, examine Sir Robert’s
shelves. You will find them well stocked.

CC1r 385

Sir Rob.


All dead stock, my Lord, heavy dead
stock.

Brisk.


Pardon me Sir—pardon me! such stock is
never dead. You have, in Calf’s skin, the very Souls
of the authors—well selected for the Binding I dare
say!

Sir Rob.


Why, my Lord, as to selection, I left that
to my Broker, and he buys by the Reviews. He
furnished the whole house, from the kitchen to the
Garret upon an elegant scale—the Pots and the Poets
—the Frying-pans and the Philosophers were alike of
his choice.

Fancourt.

Apart. Now, Sir Robert! if you wish
to do the thing genteelly, write the draft without his
observing it. Better make it payable to both, and
then I shall have the honour of being your Debtor
also. I’ll take care to present it to him after we have
left the house. Great men must not have Services
rendered to them coarsely!

Sir Rob.


I understand you; there is a nice way of
doing things.—Pray, my Lord, amuse yourself with
a Folio or two.

Sir Robert Floyer.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Apart.

—A certain delicate!—it
shall be so.

Goes to the table and writes.

Brisk.

Taking up a Book.The Debates of
Leadenhall-Street
—light pretty reading in a heavy
morning!

Fancourt.

Apart Leadenhall-Street!—a thought
strikes me!

Brisk.


May it be a useful hit!

Fancourt.


I say, my Lord, as Sir Robert has a
liberal mind, and may be entrusted with Patronage
amongst the Glamorganshire Voters, suppose you
get for him, by way of outset, a seat at the Board of
Controul! Sir Robert writes, and listens, by turns.

Brisk.


The thought was too obvious to be missed
—the place suits his discernment and spirit.—Alternately
whispering and speaking loud
The Nabobs! whispers The Begums! whispers Muslins, Alaballas,Vol. II. CC CC1v 386
Mul-Muls, Nansooks! whispers Nankeen
China whispers. Patna Rice whispers.

Sir Rob.

Runs up O my Lord! my Lord!—
Slides the Draft into Fancourt’s hand.—Not a word.
—Mum!—His finger to his lip.)

Brisk.


I perceive Fancourt holds up the Draft to
catch Brisk’s eye
—I had better go directly—no time
to be lost. Let us finish the business at once! Looking at Fancourt significantlySir Robert!
your Servant!

Fancourt.


Sir Robert! your Servant! Both hurry off.

Sir Robert.

Stares.Sir Robert your Servant!
—mighty short!—Well, but their hurry is in order
to serve me! a little rudeness may be pardoned, when
it proceeds from kindness!

Enter Georgina, hastily, followed by Jenny

Georgina.


O dear Papa! there is a woman in the
Street with some odd music. I am going to the
Balcony to hear her. Exit. Jenny following.

Sir Rob.


Get along—Madcap!—Going. Begums!
Nabobs!—Sir Robert your Servant!—mighty short
too!

Exit.

Scene III.

CC2r 387
the street before Sir Robert’s house.
Enter Mrs. Fancourt, dressed as a Savoyard,
And winding a Hurdy Gurdy.
Attended by two Children, One with a Tambour,
The other with a Cymbal.

Mrs. F.


This is the house. Here will I place myself;—fortunately I may
attract the intended
Victim!

Sings, and plays.

I be von poor Savoyard,

Get but lit, yet labour hard!

Wet and Cold me oft endure,

Patience be my only cure!

Georgina appears at the
Balcony, Jenny behind her.

Ah, Ah, charmante Lady, cast down your bright eye,

Compassionate look, or perhaps I be die!

I see von sweet Smile stealing over your face,

It give you new Beauty, it give you new Grace!

I be von poor Savoyard,

Get but lit, yet labour hard!

Wet and Cold me oft endure,

Patience be my only cure!

CC2 CC2v 388

Make von curtesy to de Lady, you lit impudent
ting!

Georgina.


Dont chide her! Where did you come
from?

Mrs. F.


From von great way off. I live among
de Mountains, and I be come to please de prit lady
of dis country.—Georgina throws down Silver
Take up l’argent ma petite, and put it in votre poche.
Bless your Charitè. Lady I can tell de fortune by
looking at de vite hand.

Georgina.


Can you?—Jenny! let us have her up.

Jenny.


Laws, Miss, dont let such creatures come
in; they may steal something! There’s a thievish
look in her eyes; I understand Eyes, as well as she
does hands!

Mrs. F.


Dat prit young vomans, by your side,
Lady, be born to von great luck—she vill have de
great offaer.

Jenny.


Well, Miss, if you will have her in—I
suppose I may as well open the door! They leave the Balcony.

Mrs. F.


Thus far I am successful. Dreadful!
that such youth and goodness should become the
prey of villains!—ah! the door opens.

Jenny.

Opening the door. Come, come, make
haste!

They Enter.
CC3r 389

Scene IV.


The drawing room.
Georgina enters, followed by Mrs. Fancourt and
Jenny

Mrs. F.


Come, let me look at your prit vite hand! Takes Georgina’s hand, and pretends to examine the
lines.
Ah, I see—I see!—But, I have not de power to
tell de fortune before any von.—Dat gentle—sweet
temper young vomans must go.

Georgina.


Jenny, d’ye hear? Leave the room.—
Go directly!

Jenny.

Going reluctantly.—Aside. I should not
have thought of that foreign woman’s impudence!—
have me sent out of the room!—I dont like the look
of her, I’ll listen I am determined!

Exit.

Mrs. F.


Now Miss, me vill tell you—you be born
to be ver happys, if you be ver good!

Georgina.


Why, do you think I am not good?

Mrs. F.

Bau! bau! dere be von—two vicked
mens, who have ver bad design agaginst you. Il faut
you must not see any Gentleman but in the presence
of yoru Papa! Your Papa be your bon friend.

Georgina.


I never heard any thing so ridiculous.
Never see a Gentleman but in my Papa’s presence!
—You’re a fine Fortune-teller.—Good-day! Going.

Mrs. F.

Agitated, follows and seizes her. Madam,
if you would not be lost beyond Redemption, observe
what I have said!—Two Villains have laid some
train—

Georgina.


Amazing!—you now speak good English!

Mrs. F.


Ah! I had forgot!—But, when the Heart CC3v 390
feels it is hard to dissemble! You have detected
me.—Charming young Woman, slight not the Cautions
which I wear this disguise to give! Surely
they must have force with you, when I tell you—that
it is perhaps at the hazard of my Life that I appear
before you.

Georgina.


You make me shudder!

Mrs. F.


Treat not lightly then the advice of one—
who runs such risk to urge it on you. I know not
exactly what is designed. They seem not yet in full
confidence with each other; but, some scheme or
other will be carried on against you, by one or both.
Be it what it may, I have awakened your Circumspection
—my Duty is performed.

Jenny.

Running in. Get out of the house you
Impostor! you deceiving Jezabel!—If you do not go
this minute, I will order the house-maid to sweep
you out.

Mrs. F.


Young Lady, think seriously on my words! Exit.

Jenny.


Think upon her words a Vagabond! Did
you ever see such assurance Miss? I have a great
mind to follow her, and beat her Hurdy-Gurdy about
her ears!

Georgina.


Be silent! What I have heard has
reached my Heart—I will be circumspect! Walking slowly off.

Jenny.


Here’s a pretty kettle of fish! Who can
that plaguy woman be? her Disguise will prevent
me from ever discovering! Mr Brisk has let somebody
into our Secret, who has betrayed us. She’ll
not trust herself with me to the supposed Wax-work
now. What labour it will cost me to throw her off
her guard!—but I’ll try. Takes a Letter from her
pocket and looks it over.
Yes, yes, this Letter will
bring him.—Hang me if I dont believe I have spelt “disguised” wrong. Well—no matter—the meaning is
undisguised enough.—Wafers the Letter—Here CC4r 391
Humphrey!—Smiling, and speaking very gently.
Humphrey! Enter Humphrey

Humph.


Come—none of your flummery!

Jenny


Nay, dont be cross! you know we have
made it up.—Here take this Letter, and carry it to
Mr Brisk. Come now coaxing you know I am
working you the Corners of a new neck-handkerchief,
twenty times as pretty as this. Touching that which he wears.

Humph.


Shall I have it by Friday, to go to Bob’s
wedding?

Jenny.


You shall! Bell rings.

Humph.


Well, give it me—Snatching the Letter.
—the old place I suppose?

Jenny.


Yes, yes, the old place—Bell again. I
wish the Bell was pulled down! Go directly. Exit.

Humph.


The wafer’s wet—ha! ha!—Now she
thinks I cant read wroiting—help her sappy head!
Ha! ha! I can wroite and read too, but that’s a
secret between me and my own sel.—Looking at it
all round.
I would not break a Seal for the world—
for that I do know would be a most unhonorable
thing; but, as to a Chambermaid’s wet Wafer
There! it opens like a boiled oyster!——’Tis a
dainty Scrawl! the lines do run as strait as the Zig-
Zag of a corkscrew. Reads. “Generous Sir!”
well that’s grateful—“Come here tomorrow, disguized
as before in the —Spelling ‘f-e-m’,—fem.— Looking earnestly. ‘f-e-fe,—m’ by itself ‘m’—fem-alee.
——Yes!—no!—oh! female dress, or you wont
get
into the house. Call yourself, as before, Miss Sally
Martin.”
——So! so! so! then that strapping Wench
that I did let in the other morning is, all the while,
what I more than half mistrusted mysel at the time
—a lubberly lout of a Man!—Scratches his head and CC4v 392
reads again—
“‘Though you came in vain before, and
I could not get you to see Miss, perhaps I can now.
We must hurry up the Match if we can. Be sure
you come!

Your Dutiful Sarvant
Jane
To John Brisk Squire.’”

So—John and Jane are a pretty pair! Now what
can they be upon? Why, that’s nothing to I. But,
howsomever, I think I wont carry it!—Yes—looking
at the corners of his handkerchief
yes I think I
will—I will carry it.—I will see John in Petticoats
once more!

Exit.

Scene V.


St. James’s Park.
Brisk walking backward and forward
With an air of great Uneasiness.
Enter Fancourt

Brisk.

Running up to him.—Oh! you are come!
I have been waiting here this hour. I began to fear
that you were slippery—that you were upon your
tricks.

Fancourt.


What, with each other? Oh fie! never.
I drove to the Bankers and back, as fast as the horses
of a wretched hack could carry me. And, in my
way, met a fellow in his Chariot, who two years since
borrowed money of me for Shoes.

Brisk.


I never meet such a fellow, for I never lend
—make a point of that! Come give me my money,
my ways and means at the Gaming Table—my
moiety of the Thousand.

Fancourt.

Unwilling. Directly—directly—Ha!
how do you do?—Bowing to those supposed to be at
a distance.
—Here is the—Puts his hand slowly into CC5r 393
his pocket.
—Ah! I saw you last night To others
a full Concert!——Oh! I had forgot! I must be at
the Tennis Court immediately! Running off towards the top.

Brisk.

Following. Rot the Tennis-Court! give
me the Notes.

Fancourt.


The Notes!—Well, there are the Notes. Brisk looks, with astonishment, at them
and at Fancourt, by turns.

Brisk.


Well!—What are these?

Fancourt.


What are they! why the Notes:—your
share of the Loan for a Thousand, procured by me
this morning.

Brisk.


Here are four Notes—five and twenty
pounds each!

Fancourt.


Well, cant you reckon? Four notes,
five and twenty pounds each, make one cool Hundred,
principal money. And, you are welcome! I confess
I had some thoughts of the fair thing being but Fifty,
but, recollecting our ancient Friendship, when I
bought into the Four per Cents with the rest, I kept
back a snug Hundred for you.—Good day, Brisk!

Brisk.

Seizing him. Stay Sir—stay you shall, and
account at once! I must away to the Pharo Table.

Fancourt.


I too have my engagement there. But,
my good fellow, do not make an uproar in the Park!
because, you know, if you do Brisk, I shall be under
the necessity of relating some little Anecdotes of
you, which may—you understand me!

Brisk.

Fiercely. So, you have bought nine hundred
Pounds worth of Stock!

Fancourt.


I have.

Brisk.


And you are determined that I shall touch
but one cool hundred?

Fancourt.


Only one—and quite enough for having
the pleasure of being treated as a Lord on a contrivance
of mine! Besides, Master Brisk—you dont
play open in your scheme on the old fellow’s
Daughter.

CC5v 394

Brisk.

Smothering rage. Very well—very well!

Brisk.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

You’ve done it for yourself as to any share of
gain there, my Boy!

Fancourt.


What would a man have?—An hundred
pounds for only just walking into an old sprawling
fellow’s Library and——Ruin! he’s here—I’m off! Exit.

Brisk.


Is he? he is.—I’ll not run!—He’s coming
towards me—I’ll not flinch! You shall see, Mr
Fancourt
, what it is to use a brother Schemer ill. Is
not the world easily enough gulled by trickery of any
sort, but we must cheat one another?—I’ll sacrifice
Myself rather than not be revenged! Takes out his Pocket-Book and
Pencil, seeming very intent.
Enter Sir Robert

Sir Rob.


Ah! there’s his Lordship. He seems
very busy again—perhaps I had better pass on! No
—I wont. Surely after such a favour—ah! my Lord
your most obedient! Brisk gazes at him, then continues
to write.
Well now, I declare Looks amazed.
My Lord! I say, your most obedient!

Brisk.


Pray Sir, who are you?

Sir Rob.


I am astonished!

Brisk.


Who, I say, are you—looking fiercely at
him
who thus twice to-day have taken the freedom
to address me in public?

Sir Rob.


Who am I? What! does not your Lordship
know me now?—Oh! perhaps the Polish Treaty,
or the delicious Smiles of the Empress, monopolize
your Lordship’s thoughts again.

Brisk.

Affecting passion. Perhaps neither!—I
am engrossed by your Impertinence. Who are you
Sir!

Sir Rob.


Who am I? why the man who, two hours
since, lent you one thousand pounds principal money,
to keep you from the Extortion of the Jews.

CC6r 395

Brisk.


A thousand pounds. Eh, eh!—Looking
very grave.
Lent me a thousand pounds!—Seizing
his hand
I am full of concern for you! I am firmly
persuaded you have been imposed on Sir. There is
a fellow about this Town who resembles me so much,
that we may play the two Dromios—we are as like as
two brown russetings growing on the same twig. He
resembles my person, he imitates my very Dress—
Sir, depend on it, he has also assumed my Name,
to borrow your one thousand pounds principal money
—I wish you may ever get them again!

Sir Rob.


Why, my Lord, I am thunderstruck!—
Then what you said to me this morning—I mean
what he said—concerning the Begums and the
Nansooks

Brisk.


Was something to cozen you, depend on it!
You were cheated clearly!—Sorry for you—cant
stay, clearly cheated Sir—you may depend on it! Going.

Sir Rob.

Agitated. My Lord—my Lord—grant
me a moment—permit me then to ask one question—
do you know Mr Fancourt?

Brisk.


Do I know Mr Fancourt? Sir! there are a
sort of people one may be said to know, because one
meets them every where; but, as to Mr Fancourt,
Sir I would not keep a groom who was absolutely acquainted with such a
person.

Sir Rob.


Oh!

Brisk.


If you want to learn his character, you may
hear of it, for aught I know, some day or other in
the King’s Bench Prison.—Do I know Mr Fancourt
indeed! Exit.

Sir Rob.


Is it Ground I stand upon? I am amazed
—never were two men so alike upon earth. The
Look, the Voice, the Dress.—But, can Fancourt be
a Villain? no, it is not possible; to me he cannot be
a Villain. Yet—I know not what to conjecture! CC6v 396 Enter Fancourt behind. Smiles, and claps him on
the Shoulder.

No—Turns and gazes on him. No—his looks are
innocent. It is not possible he can be guilty.

Fancourt.


How do you do Knight? How d’you do?

Sir Rob.


Yet, I’ll try him!—Looks sternly. Sir,
I have seen a man who tells me you are a Villain!

Fancourt.


’Tis well he does not let me see him.
But, who is the man—who is he Sir?

Sir Rob.


Lord Beechgrove—the real Lord Beechgrove
Sir.

Fancourt.

Aside—Ruin, without escape! Explain
Sir, explain! I really cannot possibly comprehend
you!

Sir Rob.


He tells me Sir, that the man you brought
to me to day, is an Impostor! and that, in concert
with him, you have cheated me out of the thousand
pounds!

Fancourt.


How Sir, an impostor! In a rage.
But, I’ll be cool—I’ll be cool—where was you told of
this Sir—where Sir?

Sir Rob.


On this very spot Sir—this instant.

Fancourt.

Aside.—Ah! I begin to smoke! What,
Lord Beechgrove has just left you then?

Sir Rob.


This moment—I found him here.

Fancourt.

Aside.—So, this is Brisk’s revenge!
Ha! ha! ha!—Oh, what—ha! ha! ha! what a droll
dog! Why Sir, did you never hear that my noble
friend is the greatest Humorist in England!—Ha!
ha! ha! I suppose he might tell you there is a man
about town who resembles him!

Sir Rob.


He did—he did sure enough! he told me
they are as like as two Drums.

Fancourt.


Aye, aye, he amuses himself with the
trick continually—he is inexhaustible as a Joker!—

Aside.—Oh the Rascal! CC7r 397

Sir Rob.


A Joker? that’s odd in a Privy Counsellor!

Fancourt.


It is by way of unbending.—These great
men must be Triflers at times!—

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—The Villain!

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

I could tell you such Tales of him! Ah!
here his Lordship comes—

Enter Brisk
Runs up to him—Apart

You shall have the other
four hundred!

Brisk.


Ha! ha! Sir Robert what I frightened you
did I?—Apart to Fancourt.—I shan’t trust you!

Fancourt.

Giving Notes apart—Take! take!
here they are!—

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

The Dog has been up to me
this time!

Fancourt.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—Really, my Lord, it is not right to play
thus on Sir Robert’s Credulity! He could not know
that you were not in earnest. But, I must particularly
insist on one thing my Lord, that you do
not again speak of my Character in such terms,
though in one of your jests. The jest that laughs
away a man’s reputation is deadly poison concealed
in honey.

Brisk.

Looking over the Notes Aside. Well, well,
nothing ought to be said about your Character, I
agree.—What do you think I told him Friend Fancourt?
I told him you might perhaps be heard of,
some day or other, in the King’s Bench—ha! ha! ha!

Fancourt.


No!—did you?

Sir Rob.


He did indeed!

All.


Ha! ha! ha!

Brisk.


Well, the first open day I have, you must
dine with me! We’ll be three jolly fellows, full of
good humour and lovers of sport. Only a dozen
things on table—no Epicures—eh Fancourt?—
Champaigne and a Song shall cheer our minds, and
set us above the cares of the World!

Sir Rob.


With all my Heart!

Sir Robert Floyer.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—Rattle CC7v 398
Glasses with a Lord! it will be as good as dining
with a Duchess!

Fancourt.


Come along, my little fellow! They
take Sir Robert between them
—here then we go—
jest laugh and pleasure inspire us!

Exeunt.
CC8r (399)

Act the Fifth

Scene I.


Sir Simon Asgill’s counting house.
He is seated, with an air of melancholy. Enter Perkins, and looks earnestly at him.

Per.


Sir, Sir!—I pray you, Sir, speak!

Sir Simon.


I have carried it too far! my boy can
no where be found! Why did I enter into such a
Speculation? I ought to have known that the Sensibility
of his heart, and the nobleness of his soul,
could neither endure to view my distress, or to live
a useless member of society.

Perkins.


Sir, be comforted, it is not yet Noon;
perhaps the Evening may bring us the Needful. Enter a Servant

Serv.


A Lady, Sir, desires to see you.

Sir Simon.

Petulantly. I can see no one.

Serv.


She is particularly earnest, and requests to
see you alone.

Sir Simon.


Who is she?

Serv.


I do not know Sir. She gave no Name.
Shall I conduct her to the Drawing-room Sir?

Sir Simon.


No—if I must see her, bring her in CC8v 400
here. The Counting house of a British merchant is
respectable enough for the reception of a Prince— Exit Servant. I should not be ashamed to receive
my King in it.—Well Perkins, you find the Lady will
break her mind to me alone—if I wre in spirits to
joke now, I could make myself merry at the fancy.

Perkins.


I hope Sir your spirits and your jokes will
soon be on the return! Exit.Enter Lady Horatia

Sir Simon.


Your humble servant, Madam. She
curtseys in confusion.
Pray sit down.

Lady Hor.


I thank you. He stands by her chair—she fans herself.

Sir Simon.


You seem faint Madam.

Lady Hor.


No Sir—no. In a moment I shall be
better.

Sir Simon.


Not used perhaps to the Bustle of
driving through the City?

Lady Hor.


Not often!—

Lady Horatio Horton.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Aside.

—Oh! how shall
I begin! my heart bursts with feelings that my tongue
cannot give utterance to!

Sir Simon.


Pray may I ask, upon what concern
we have the favour of your remembrance of us
Madam?

Lady Hor.


Sir—I came—on a business—I know
not how to introduce——You Sir—have a Nephew— Looking on her fan.

Sir Simon.


At least I hope so Madam !

Lady Hor.


You have heard—of Lady Horatia
Horton?

Sir Simon.


Heard of her! yes I have heard of her!

Lady Hor.


Possibly—Sir—you are aware—that Mr
Asgill has some degree of regard for her—

Sir Simon.


I hope not! my Nephew I trust knows
better than to have any serious regard for such a
Gill-flirt and her follies!

DD1r 401

Lady Hor.


Do you speak thus of Lady Horatia
Horton
Sir!

Sir Simon.


Yes! the merest specimen of Caprice
that ever came under our consideration—her love
lasts but till bad news comes!

Lady Hor.

Aside— He means Georgina who saw
him yesterday; I know not how to explain!

Sir Simon


My Nephew in love with a Stone-
Cutter? I wont believe it! Her Study is a workshop
—her Drawing-room a Mason’s saw-yard!—A
hewer of Marble! Pshaw! Madam—he might as
well take up his residence at once in a Quarry!

Lady Hor.

Rising. Nay—this is insupportable!
can this be the Uncle of Sidney Asgill!

Sir Simon.


Why I saw there, with my own eyes, a
woman’s face with a wild-fashion wig of Serpents for
drop curls;—he shall never be married to fancies so
preposterous!

Lady Hor.


I can bear no more! Sir, this more
than gothic ignorance is a disgrace ot the Age in
which we live! The head of the expressive Medusa
is amongst the Wonders of the Art!—Oh! the more
than mortal skill—that could make Beauty horrible!

Sir Simon.

Aside. Hey-dey!—the dumb Lady in
crazy talk?

Lady Hor.


—At the same place, you saw the
touching Niobe—mourning over her children; the
light Atalanta—flying from her Lover.—Did nothing
strike you! could neither the skill of Phidias,
nor the vigour of Michael Angelo awaken adoration
in you for the Sublimity of Sculpture—whose long
enduring beauties bid Defiance to Age!

Sir Simon.

Aside.—Age!— Aye, a clear hit at
me!
Well Madam, there is no Admiration lost between
us.

Lady Hor.


Your coarseness Sir is insufferable!—
How different from your’s is the Mind of your
Nephew!—he can sit whole hours admiring these Vol.II. DD DD1v 402
Wonders of the Art, and patiently watching the chisel
that presumes at imitation.

Sir Simon.


Employ his time thus! it is the first
instance of his Folly I ever heard of.

Lady Hor.


You employ your talents Sir, I suppose,
to the more exalted purposes of importing verdigrease
and blubber, or in monopolizing what was here.

Sir Simon.

Have you any Commission for me
Madam?

Lady Hor.


Commission—Sir—I came—it was my
design—no Sir I have none!

Sir Simon.


When you have, Madam, I shall expect
you to look in upon us, or hand directions for our
government, but I really have not had time to read
my Letters, which I must beg to do directly.—Order
the Lady’s Carriage!

Lady Hor.


Sir—I feel myself so insulted that—
perhaps—your feelings are right—but no matter—
I am distracted!Exit—agitated.

Sir Simon.


Why what can this mean after all!
—and who is she? I never was so stunned in all my
Life!— Enter Conway and Perkins.
Ah! Mr Conway—what News—what news? Running towards him.

Con.


Alas! none Sir! I have followed our poor
Sidney by every possible clue that I could obtain;
but he has passes away like a dart—not a trace of
him remains!

Sir Simon.

Fie!—fie! shaking his head—this foolish brain of mine must be scheming!

Con.


I suppose Lady Horatia’s visit here was to
make Enquiries Sir?

Sir Simon.


Who!

Con.


Lady Horation Horton. She stept into her
Carriage as I came up to the Gate. But seemed to
be weeping—so I did not intrude.

DD2r 403

Per.

To Sir Simon.—Bless me Sir—there must
have been some Mistake!

Sir Simon.


I dont know.—I am all in a Wood!
Why, was that lady—Lady Horation Horton?

Con.


Assuredly.

Sir Simon.


’Twas quite a different person from her
I saw, yesterday, at her house!

Con.

Smiling. Oh yes—ha! ha! I have heard of
your Adventure. The Lady you saw was quite a
different person indeed Sir.

Sir Simon.


And I hope I shall never have the mishap
to see her again Sir.

Con.


Why, Sir?

Sir Simon.


I can’t endure her

Con.

Angrily.What Sir!—Why she is the most
charming of her sex. That Lady, Sir, has more
sweetness of disposition, more playful innocence of
heart, and more Beauty than you ever saw before, or
ever will see again!

Sir Simon.


I hope I may form a different opinion,
Mr Conway.

Con.


No Sir—no man shall form a different opinion!
—or if he does, he must take care to conceal it in
my presence.

Sir Simon.


I shall take no care, Sir. I will use the
freedom of an Englishman, to speak all I think of
you, and of every man, and of every woman too. How
dared she assume a Character she was not?—how
dared she say such things of my Nephew to my face?

Per.


Oh! Gentlemen, let me intreat you!—you
will both be sorry—you have both been too warm!

Con.


Persuade Sir Simon that he has been so! Exit.

Sir Simon.

Staring Why, what’s in the wind today
Perkins! I affront every one who comes near
me—without designing it I am sure!

Per.


Your breast has been a little ruffled Sir; you
are disturbed about Mr. Asgill.

DD2 DD2v 404

Sir Simon.


Disturbed indeed! and my Head will
be out of order soon if I dont hear of him. But,
this Lady Horatia—’tis very odd! what could bring
her here?—Bless me! perhaps she came to tell me
some News about him, which I have lost by my testiness
—I’ll go to her!

Per.


It would really be most advisable Sir!

Sir Simon.


I will—after Change. But, I shall give
her up if I see her marble agian.—What a Taste.

Per.


Dear Sir, any Taste is better than no Taste.
A lady who employs her thoughts thus on works
of Art, is at least not idle—and therefore not in the
way of Evil! Exeunt

Scene II.

Sir Robert’s drawing room. Enter Humphrey and Brisk,
The latter cloathed in a woman’s broad-cloth Mantle,
And wearing a Hat with a Veil.

Humph.

Aside. Why what a noddy have I been,
to take this Strapper for a Girl!

Brisk.

Feigned voice. What is the oaf grinning
at? Do as I bid you—tell Mrs Jenny her friend
Miss Sally Martin is here. Exit Humphrey, making wry faces. Brisk
throws open the Mantle, and pulls off the hat.

Enter Jenny.

Jenny.


Well, I was obliged to tell you to come in
the same disguise—there was no other way of getting
you into such a watched house as this! But I am
afraid, though you are here, all hopes of prevailing
upon young Madam are vain!

DD3r 405

Brisk.


Oh, I suppose she is like other young Ladies
just from Boarding School. If I can but get over
a blunder of mine in a Statuary room, and I think
the dying Lover (for you may depend upon it I mean
to be almost dead!) and, above all, the Romance of
the adventure will cause such a twitter in her heart,
that will take it into her head that she also must
die, if we are not married.

Jenny.


Ah! all this wont do now. I fear her heart
is brim full of love al ready for one Conway. However,
I am determined you shall succeed. My scheme
is this—let us but get her to your lodgings—and to
avoid suspicions Marriage must follow.

Brisk.


By what magic can I convey her thither.
Besides I mean to try the effect of one interview here
first at any rate—and you must procure it immediately.

Jenny.


Pshaw, nonsense! I have prevailed on her
to go with me alone to the Waxwork. She knows
not where it is, and—Ah! we’re ruined! here she
comes!—fold over your Mantle!

Brisk.


Well, and here goes my Hat on then! The
Connoiseur will be as little detected in Petticoats by
her, as she was by the Connoiseur!

Enter Georgina Brisk checks himself in a bow.

Georgina.


Pray, Jenny, who is this?

Jenny.


A Stranger Ma’am, a Lady that—Did you
not say Ma’am that you ran into the Hall to avoid
people who were rude/—And then, Miss, that
blundering fellow Humphrey brought him up—I
mean brought up the Lady!

Brisk

In a soft voice Yes, Ma’am, he brought
me up. Really a woman can hardly walk out, people
are so impertinent. A Gentleman, Madam, seized DD3v 406
my hand—Confound you Sir said I—I mean I
said—bless me Sir—dont prevent my passing!

Georgina.


A very odd Lady, Jenny!

Brisk.

Nay, I can no longer carry on Disguise—
where my Heart compels me to be in earnest! Throws open the Mantle, takes off the hat, and kneels.
Lovely young creature! notwithstanding present appearances
do not believe I can ever really be a deceiver.
I scorn to impose on you— I have a soul
above it! Your charms I have been enamoured of,
from the first moment of your arrival in Town—

Georgina.

What, on the Pedestal too, Mr Brisk! —Why Jenny, what can all this mean?

Brisk.

With your visit to the Statuary room I had
contrived to make myself acquainted—my pretended
criticism on your charming form was but to give me
the fuller opportunity of viewing Symmetry so exquisite!
—and now, I have transformed, like Achilles,
my Surtout to a Cloak, but to conceal me
from the watchful eyes of your Father and his Servants.
—Believe me, sweetest creature, that ’tis your
Beauty Jenny shrieks—that could alone—Destruction!
Puts on the hat, and conceals himself in the mantle.

Enter Sir Robert, and Fancourt.

Sir Rob.


A Lady at my Daughter’s feet!—Brisk
starts up.
Some great Charity surely she is asking!
To Jenny What did you shriek for?

Jenny.


Shriek Sir—oh! Sir the poor Lady was
speaking of the dreadful cruelties of her Husband—
and was deploring Miss to speak to you to procure
Justice for her!—Apart. Ma’am it would be a great
Pity to betray him!

Georgina.

Aside.The Savoyard—I must show
no favour here!

Sir Rob.


Pray Ma’am, dont wheel about in this DD4r407
manner.—There’s nothing shameful in having a bad
Husband; if there were—then indeed there might
be, here and there, a married woman that would
not care to show her face.

Brisk

Shrill voice. I must not indeed Sir—it
would cover me with confusion!Still turning from Sir Robert.

Sir Rob.

Pray, Madam, is the fault all your Husband’s?

Brisk.


Entirely Sir!—my behaviour is angelic!

Sir Rob.


I dare say your face is angelic, if one
could but see it!Still wheeling to get a peep .

Brisk

Apart to Georgina, in his own voice.Pity
my distress, charming creature!

Georgina


Pray, good Madam, turn and show
yourself to my Papa! and make him the same interesting
relation you began to me!

Jenny.

Apart. Nay, pray Ma’am do not betray
him! how can you have the heart! he would rather
die than do you an ill turn.

Georgina.


Sweet Lady, speak! a design so pure,
and eloquence so irresistible, will have its due effect
on my Papa!

Fancourt

Aside.Though Brisk has played shy with me, I suppose I shall snack at last—and there
seems some crossing of his game here!
—Sweet
Lady, round with ye! Sir Robert, you look that
way, and I’ll look this.

Sir Rob.


Nay, Madam,’tis in vain. I will see
your bright eyes! Brisk attempts to trip up Sir Robert
and to run off.

Fancourt.


A Thalestris—by Jupiter! Seizing
Brisk
Nay, I will have a peep—spite of dexterity
Miss! Come—to the right about!—Whu! why this
must be a Man!—Sir Robert—a rat Brisk turns
to him
Apart.—What Brisk! I’m a Marplot here!
—this comes of not entrusting a friend fairly!

Sir Rob.


Yes, yes this must be a man! I thought DD4v408
it was the most robust Damsel I had ever met
with!

Fancourt.


Get out of the house Sir! Pushing
him.
Aye, you do well to hide your face! Drives
him out.

Sir Rob.


Who is he?

Fancourt.


Oh, but a fellow who lives by his wits;
one whose stock in trade is all in the pia mater. Touching his Forehead.

Sir Rob.

To Georgina. What brought him here
in disguise? Where had you seen him?—I insist on
knowing the Truth! Aside.—She’s puzzled what to say—
the Girl has been taught that ’tis a sin to tell Lies!

Sir Rob.


Why dont you speak, Georgina?—Come,
be bold! your prompter I see is at your elbow.

Georgina


Yes I will speak—and unprompted but
by Truth!—I assure you Sir, I never saw that person
but once before—and that was at Lady Horatia’s.
But, a circumstance, which I believe must
relate to him, is deeply infixed in my mind—and
makes me shudder!

Sir Rob.


What is it Child?

Georgina


Sir, by way of whim, I yesterday had
my Fortune told.

Sir Rob.


Pho!

Georgina


Nay, but mine was no common Fortune-teller!
She was certainly some well-bred woman
in Disguise.

Sir Rob.


And pray, what mighty wonders did she
tell you?

Georgina


That two unprincipled villains had laid
some plot for my destruction! Fancourt starts.
Her disguise was that of a Savoyard with Music.

Fancourt

Aside. Ruin!

Sir Rob.


I remember you ran through the Library
to listen to her.

Fancourt

Pray Madam, what sort of person was
this Savoyard?

DD5r 409

Georgina.


An agreeable little woman, with eyes
full of intelligence, and manners full of good sense.

Fancourt

Aside.It was my mischief-maker!

Georgina.


This seeming Lady is probable one of
the two men I had notice of; and introduced himself
here with a design which I tremble at the
thought of.

Sir Rob.


I believe you do, my dear! I never saw
you so grave, nor heard you talk so discreetly before.
A little fright has done you good. Never cease to
tremble at the thought of the hazards of this hour!

Georgina.


You, Jenny, have always cherished my
Follies—and pleased for that man even now! I can
entrust myself with you no more! Away to the
House-keeper, receive your Wages, and leave my
Father’s house.

Jenny.

Aside.Why, she can never mean this in
earnes—it must be all Fudge before her Father!

Sir Rob.


Your discharge of her is right.—But still
—who waits there? Let her be detained below! Exit Jenny.
I never met with such an atrocious jade, since I was
High Sheriff for the County!—May every misguided
daughter, Georgina, take shelter, like you, at once
in the arms of a Father! Embracing her.— My
dear Girl, I wish thou hadst either a Mother or a
Husband!

Fancourt.

—A most edifying scene!

Sir Rob.


Mr Fancourt, you know then who this
fellow is.

Fancourt.


Not absolutely know him. I have seen
him—and will see him again you may depend upon
it!—And I’ll find your little Savoyard too, Madam,
your pretty Fortune-teller.—It shall go hard but I’ll
meet with her!Exit.

Georgina.


I wish he may discover her! for I shall
cherish lively gratitude to her to the last hour of my
existence!—I feel, Sir, like one of our little Welch DD5v 410
Kids, trembling still, though saved from the brink
of a precipice—and guided back by its fond parent
to crop the flowery herbage in safety!

Her father leads her out.

Scene III.

Lady Horatia’s drawing room. She enters, meeting Sir Simon

Sir Simon.


My Lady, your most obedient! I did
not know that you were Lady Horation Horton this
morning; I am come to apologize, and all that.

Lady Hor.

Coldly.—An unnecessary trouble Sir.

Sir Simon.


Not at all, not at all. If I offend, I
am always ready to make amends. A little Gipsy
yesterday took your name, and railed at Sidney
—I could not bear it!

Lady Hor.


And was it therefore Sir, that you insulted

Sir Simon.


Let us come to the point, and settle
accounts! I am told that you have a regard for my
Nephew, and I love and admire you for it.

Lady Hor.


The person who told me so yourself! Would
any Lady drive into the City to talk to a cross old
fellow about his Nephew, if she had not set her
heart upon him? Pho! pho! as we men of business
say—there’s a Common Sense in every thing!

Lady Hor.


Your torture me extremely Sir!—I dislike
your Nephew now!

Sir Simon.


Aye, aye, it comes to the same result
then I see as yesterday. When you looked forward to
fine Equipage, splendor, and expense, you could acknowledge
his Merits, but, now that you find he is DD6r 411
poor, you dispise him! ’Twas to discover how all
this was, that I came here first!

Lady Hor.


Sir! it is unjust! you injure me in
every part of your opinion. When he was rich, he
never kenew that he had caused a tender thought—
his distress alone caused my attachment to throw off
disguise.

Sir Simon.


Oh, oh!—What then you do love him?

Lady Hor.


What have I said!

Sir Simon.


What I hope you never will recall!
Speak on;—now you talk like a sensible woman!

Lady Hor.


Well then, recive my full confession.
The sense of the power of assisting him has endeared
him to me. Go Sir, bring him from his retreat,
and tell him that Horatia Horton knows now
no value in wealth—but in the pleasure of dividing
with him!

Sir Simon.


Huzza!—Madam he is not poor! I’ll
put down thousand for thousand, and when I die—
I’ll leave him a plumb!

Lady Hor.


Sir!

Sir Simon.


It is all a trick, to try whether you
kept to your fist samples in love, and whether he
possessed real worth of soul. Sentiments truly sterling
he often uttered; but those often utter noble
Sentiments who do not possess one feeling that,
brought to the test, would do credit to humanity.

Lady Hor.


Asgill not poor!—Pausing.—A
flimsy contrivance—to force me to reveal a secret
which I wished to bury in the bottom of my heart!
Haughtily. Sir, know that your nephew rich,
and your nephew poor, are distinct persons. I detest
Art—I recall all I have said! Exit.

Sir Simon.


Why, what’s in the wind now! Upon
my Credit, I would rather cast up the most intricate
compound-interest account, than attempt to calculate
how to suit a Woman’s mind.—Refuse a man
because he is rich!

DD6v 412 Enter Perkins.

Per.


Oh Sir! my tidings are so good, that I have
followed you hither!—Mr Asgill is found!

Sir Simon.


I saw it in thy eyes without a Word!
Thou art an honest fellow Perkins.—Squeezing his
hand.
—In what Street or Alley was he found?

Per.


Street Sir! it was in a Castle—floating out
of Portsmouth Harbour for the defence of his Country!
My Brother Will thought that he had probably
returned to his former profession, without notice to
you, lest you should prevent him, and there he
found him.

Sir Simon.


Is he come back?

Per.


My Brother traced him, told him how accounts
really stood—got him into a chaise and four, and
brought him back to his Lodgings.

Sir Simon.


Come along—come along! It shall be
the best day Will ever saw!

Scene IV.

Fancourts’s. Enter Fancourt, followed by Mrs. Fancourt.

Mrs. F.


I hope you, and your friend Mr Brisk, have
been well amused since yesterday, Mr Fancourt.

Fancourt.


As much so—as ruin at the Gaming
table would admit of Mrs Fancourt.

Mrs. F


You should let me know when you dont
mean to return. It is rather unpleasant to sit up all
night watching.

Fancourt.


You can always find amusement yourself,
my Dear, you know!

Mrs.F.


How?

Fancourt.


Oh, you can conjure up some sort or
other—Fortune-telling for instance!

DD7r 413

Mrs. F.

Starting I die with fear!—I am betrayed
—Oh, he will have no mercy on me!

Fancourt.

Seizing her hand. Fortune-telling was
a pretty thought my dear—but did it occur to you
to predict your own?—did your prophetic spirit pronounce
your own fate on Discovery!

Mrs. F.


I know too well I must expect all that
malice and revenge can inspire; but, if I have saved
an innocent from destruction, and glanced off the
arrow aim’d at the hear of her benevolent father, I
am resigned!

Enter Holdfast, and another man.

Fancourt.


Who are you who enter my Apartments
with so little ceremony!

Hold.


What, Mr Fancourt, cant you guess? Mayhap
you’ll understand this! Showing a Writ.

2d Man.


A Coach waits below.—Come, the sooner
we get into the regular Parliament trot the better.

Fancourt.


Sudden surprise has overpowered me!
—On whose account do I see you?

Hold.


You’ll know that in proper time. I never
likes to answer Trogatories.

Fancourt.


Where am I going?

Hold.


You’ll see when we arrive!

Fancourt.


Wherever it is, I’ll not stir without this
Woman. She shall accompany me wherever I go.

Hold.


You have a very fond Husband, Madam,
I see!

Mrs. F.


Not so; but he is my husband—I therefore
follow without a murmur.

Fancourt.


Go first! I will not leave you in the
room. Exit Mrs Fancourt. Come Gentlemen,
let us follow the Lady! Bear Witness—I am a polite
Husband to the last! You, too, are tolerably polite
in you way!—only civil process Gentlemen I perceive!

Exeunt.
DD7v 414

Scene V.

Sir Robert’s drawing room. He enters.

Sir Rob.

Shaking his head. A sad—sad slut!—
Why, what a Place this Town is! A Stranger like
me should go about in leading strings! Plotters,
Deceivers, in every corner of it!—Whether the people
one associates with are ever really what they appear
to be, or whether it all one universal Masquerade
there is no guessing— Enter Brisk.
My Lord! I am your Lordship’s most obedient!
You have made great haste in unrobing my Lord!

Brisk.


Eh!

Sir Rob


I did not exactly know, at first, how to
direct, to summon your Lordship hither, but your
Sister in crime—the Lady Jenny below stairs helped
me out—Mr. Brisk! helped me to the history of Mr
Fancourt
too, and of my departed Thousand.

Brisk.


The Traitress

Sir Rob.


Pray when you publish Sir? your adventures
must be rather amusing! Put me down a
Subscriber.

Brisk

Aside.—Nay, since all is out, I’ll take my
chance another way, brazen it out, and alarm him!

Brisk.[Speaker label not present in original source]

—I’ll put you down for something else, Sir, when I
publish.

Sir Rob.


What!

Brisk.


Be assured the public shall not lose the
story of Taffy the Welch Knight, who came up from DD8r415
Glamorganshire, gaping after Begums, Nansooks,
and a place at Court!

Sir Rob.


I feel that I deserve this, I submit to it
patiently. Here comes more company—some of
your friends, my Lord!

Enter Fancourt, Mrs. Fancourt, and the Officers. Sir Robert nods to the Officers, they retire.

Fancourt.


So Brisk—all is up!

Brisk.


Faith, I think, all is down with us. Your
Blundering has brought about a discovery of all.

Fancourt.


What blundering! was it my fault?
You would not trust me to assist in the scheme—that
you might pocket without fair sharing!

Brisk.


You wanted not to share—our Friend the
Knight’s thousand fairly.

Fancourt.

Thoughtful. Aye, I know not whence
the interference is! but, when men conspire to do
wrong—, sooner or later they are untrue to each
other!

Brisk.


What! moralizing?—Chear up! We aim’d
high, resolved if we did fall to fall from an eminence.
Come, come, Sir Knight—to cajole a friend out of a
Loan is all fair as the World goes.

Sir Rob.


And my Daughter!

Brisk.


Aye, and to cajole a girl into Marriage—
nothing deemed fairer now!—Come, we want a little
cheering, we were watched, played fair, and lost all
last night, come—you’ll draw a Bottle of Champaigne
at parting—and let us be merry once again! You
thought it celestial happiness to get tipsy with a Lord,
and hear him roar out a Catch. Do you remember,
Fancourt, how he oped his mouth, and how his eyes
watered with Joy?—ha! ha! ha!

Sir Rob.


I must bear all. I have been so ridiculous,
that I deserve more even than your malice can
suggest!

DD8v 416

Fancourt.

“I say, Snapper, we must have the
Welch Knight, he who was High Sheriff”
—ha!
ha! ha!—The old scoundrel killed his Coachgreys
in riding about against us. Sips.He is a
great fool, related to all the Ap Morgans, and Ap
Shoneses
in the County!—Ha! ha! ha! never was
a Gudgeon hook’d with such facility before!

Georgina runs in.

Georgina.


It is, it is herself! My charming Savoyard
I rejoice to see you!

Fancourt.

Going up to Mrs Fancourt You Madam,
to whose officiousness my friend and I owe our
ruin, you have incurred the punishment with which
I threatened you! Listen seizing her hand whilst
I impart the Secret that will convey merited torture
into your heart—You are not my Wife! Flinging away her hand.

Mrs. F.


Not your Wife?

Fancourt.


You was married in stile you know—
special Licence out of Church!—it happened however
to be by a man who was never Priest until that
moment!

Mrs. F.


Can it be possible!—Do I hear right?
—Yet the horror which I feel, at the baseness with
which I have been deceived, has some degree of
Alleviation in the idea—that I am released from
Obedience to a man who makes me shudder! It
no longer my Duty to associate with Vice! It is no
longer my Fate to eat the bread of Wickedness!—
I give then melancholy welcome to my disgrace, to
my poverty, and my want!

Georgina


Never! Your fate is united to mine.
You are my Mother, Sister, Friend!—I must quit
you a few moments, for Lady Horatia has set Mr
Conway for me—my Father’s roof is your future
protection!

EE1r 417

Fancourt.


This is indeed a blow!— Is she to be
happy?

Sir Rob.


Yes Sir, if my Daughter’s care, and my
Sanction can make her so.

Mrs. F.


Unhappy man farewell! The ruin of my
peace and fortune I can forgive! Whilst innocence
and friendship invite me to seek repose in retirement,
may you find it in Repentance!

Georgina leads her out.

Sir Rob


And now Officers They enter you may
relieve us from the presence of these Gentlemen,
and take due care to deliver them safe into the custody
—of the High Sheriff of the County!

Holdfast.


Never fear Sir! No one ever got out of
his clutches yet, if once Holdfast touched him on
the shoulder!

Sir Rob.


And when the law permits you to escape
from custody for the little debt you owe me, and
you turn out on the wide world Gentlemen, be so
good as to remember, that special care has been
taken to send on your characters—to derange
future manœuvres!

Brisk.


Oh, an act of Grace (or whatever they
call it) to the King’s subjects will relieve us soon
enough. We will turn out on the wide World—
and let the World beware! You’ll not wholly exclude
us from the very mixed society of this great
Town, old one, yet! The world is not alive to
a sense of right and wrong as it was—a mixed character
succeeds best in it.

Fancourt.


That’s right, we’ll be of good heart my
Boy!—and prepare, in retirement, for a new campaign.
Our wits are our means of preying on Vanity
and Folly—the field before us is indeed a wide
one!Exeunt with the Officers.

Sir Rob.


But the history I have published will bar
future pillage my lads! These Gentlemen have
given me some pastime, with some experience, at EEEE1v418
an expence of a thousand pounds; nothing very
costly—as the price of experience in the ways of
The Town goes! Exit

Scene VI.

Lady Horatia’s drawing room. Enter Lady Horatia, and Lady Nelville.

Lady Hor.


Adieu to low spirits for ever! My
heart is as light as the feather in your hair. Con
way has told me everything. My Asgill was in no
plot against me, no, he has proved himself, in the
hour of trial, as noble, as delicate, as brave, as my
fancy had always painted him!

Lady N.

Upon my word happiness is very becoming!
it gives expression to every feature. —See,
her comes Georgina, playing the little tyrant with
the enamoured Conway.

Enter Conway leading Georgina.

Georgina


I protest I will not hear you, Mr Conway.
Snatches her hand away. Why will you teaze
me thus? Lady Horatia, I beg you chide him; he
has been talking nonsense to me all the way in your
Carriage.

Lady Hor.


It will give more pleasure if you
chide him. Nay, I will be more malicious still,
spite of your frowns! I absolutely will tell him Georgina puts her hand before Lady Horatia’s mouth
you—you do not hate him.

Con.


That sound is bliss to me.

Georgina


Ah, but I am sure I do not love him.

Con.


How do you know, Angel?

Georgina.


Why, I never keep wakeful about you,
and I dont grow pale like Miss Gwatkin, and I eat EE2r419
my breakfast very well; and I do not see you for
a whole day together I only think—well to-morrow
perhaps he’ll come

Con.


Enough! enough!—more than I hoped! On
these terms I am content to bind my fate to your’s.
This artless candour renders you enchanting!

Georgina.


Well then, but dont speak to my Papa
about it—for a whole week. Bless me—here’s old
Simon.Runs to the top, followed by Conway. Enter Sir Simon, with Asgill in his Uniform.

Sir Simon.


Here, my Lady, I have brought you
your Sailor; and if you do not receive him with
kindenss, and welcome him back with your whole
soul, you are no woman for me!

Asgill.


Sweet Mistress of my Heart, am I really
welcome?

Lady Hor.


Welcome! Asgill, there are characters
so high, so noble, that to suppress the real feelings
they have excited were to have no taste for excellence
—my Heart bounds from the chilly rules
that would stay the expression of them. I, who
have hitherto treated you with coolness almost bordering
on disdain, now declare that I am proud to
make you Master of my Fate; and that I feel exalted
in having it in my Power to confer happiness
on you.

Asgill.


Blest was the hour in which you believed
me poor and undone!

Lady Nelville.


Lady Horatia, you are all Smiles!
I declare I should not so easily have forgiven a man
who could fly from me to the boisterous ocean, and
show such insensibility to Love.

Asgill.


Misjudge me not! my soul, in full glow,
confesses all its force. Yet the enthusiasm which
seized me when I reached the deck of the Victory
can never be chilled!—In the glorious tars around 420
me, Valour, Intrepidity, Heroism, shone forth in all
their fervour and flash’d through my Heart. And I
swear, should the danger of the times require my
assistance, I will agian sail in her service, wherever
she bids her cannon roar, or her proud pendants
fly!

Through five long acts, in easy careless whirl,

I’ve been a giddy, tender, harmless girl,

Light as a feather in blithe frolic May,

Borne on the perfumed air of cheerful day.

Nor have I yet thrown by my artless part,

Georgina still I am, in garb and Heart,

Georgina humbly stands again before ye,

Of Gratitude so full—she half adores ye!

My Fancy ruminates, when Conway’s wife,

On what sweet plan to form my married life?

Whether ’tis Happiness to make a flash,

Pre-eminent and bold, like Lady Dash,

Reflection ne’er intruding as a damper,

Ascend my Curricle, on Horse-back scamper,

Keep Pharo Banks, the long odds take at Races,

And know the knowing ones in all their paces,

Lounge at Newmarket in the betting-rooms,

And prate to Lady Harriet—and my grooms?

But, should I thus blaze on, in Folly’s road,

And, profligate, forsake my blest abode,

Where were my Husband’s hope? his Credit where?

Who shall his lonely hours console and share?

Ah!—the dark prospect scares my trembling heart,

And swift from Ruin’s precipice I start.

Hail Wedded Happiness! my soul is thine

My Pride shall be in thy mild paths to shine!

My Conway’s tempered will I’ll make my own

And his felicity my hopes shall crown.

With him through Fashion’s paths I’ll sometimes roam,

But still, my first enjoyment shall be Home!

The Household Gods too precious graces wear,

To be abandoned but for out-door glare.

Yet, never will your Household Deities frown,

If you play truant, just to see—The Town!