have three thousand pounds a-year, while she is content to be poor to make other people so; for she is as vexatious as her father was, the great Norfolk attorney there's no such thing as doing nothing for youWhat case must I put? Mrs Black. Our case, that comes on to-day in the Common Pleas : you know well enough, but you will be stubborn! Pray, captain, mark him. Jer. Hem! hem!-John a Stiles Man. You may talk, young lawyer, and put her Free. Ay, the devil take him! I am four hundred pounds a-year out of pocket by his knavish practices on an old aunt of mine; though, indeed, there was suspicion of a false deed of convey-case, if you think proper; but I shall no more ance; I once had a design of suing the widow mind you than I would your mother, if I was in upon it, and something I will now think of seri- your case, when she bid me do a thing to make a ously-but, hang her! she wont pretend to know fool of myself. me! Man. Go to her, can't you? When she's in town, she lodges in one of the inns of court, where she breeds her son, and is herself his tutoress in law-French: but bid her come up; she is Olivia's relation, and may make me amends for her visit by giving me some account of her. Enter MRS BLACK ACRE and JERRY. Mrs Black. I never had so much trouble with a judge's door-keeper, as with yours: you should consider, captain Manly, this is term time, and folks have something else to do, besides waiting for admittance to people they have business with. Man. Well, well, a truce with your exclamations, and tell me something about your cousin. How does Olivia? Mrs Black. Jerry, give me the subpoena.-It was by mere chance I heard of your being in town, and you are my chief witness: you can't imagine how my cause Man. Damn your cause! when did you see Olivia? Mrs Black. I am no visitor, captain, but a woman of business: or, if ever I visit, 'tis only the Chancery-Lane ladies towards the law; and none of your lazy, good for nothing, fashionable gillflirts. Many a fine estate has been lost in families for want of a notable stirring woman, to rummage among the writings: but come, sir, we have no time to lose; and since you won't listen to me, I desire you may hear my son a little; let him put our case to you; for, if the trial comes on to-day, it will not be amiss to have your memory refreshed, and your judgment informed, lest you should give your evidence improperly.-Jerry! Jer. What's the matter with you now? Mrs Black. Come, child, put our case to captain Manly-Nay, don't hold down your head and look like a fool; for you can do it very well, if you please. Jer. I wish I may be hanged, if I ever knew such a woman as you are in my life! I wonder you are not ashamed to make one an antic before strangers this way! Mrs Black. Jerry, Jerry! don't be perverse, but lay down the bags, and speak out, like a good child, when I bid you.-Lord, sir, it would do you good to hear him sometimes.-Why don't you begin? Jer. Psha! you are always in such a hurry, Jer. Look you there now; I told you so. Mrs Black. Never mind him, Jerry, he only says that to dash you: go on! Bless my soul, I could hear our Jerry put cases all day! Jer. John a Stiles-no-there are first, Fitz, Pere, and Ayle; no, no, Ayle, Pere, and Fitz→→→ Ayle is seized in fee of Blackacre; John a Stiles disseizes the Ayle; Ayle makes claim, and the dissessors die-Then the Ayle-no the FitzMrs Black. No, the Pere, sirrah! Jer. Oh, the Pere-ay, the Pere, sir, and the Fitz-No, the Ayle-No, the Pere and the Fitz→→ Man. Damn Pere, Ayle, and Fitz, sir! Mrs Black. No, you are out, child. Take notice of me, captain-There are Ayle, Pere, and Fitz: Ayle is seized in fee of Blackacre; and being so seized, John a Stiles disseizes the Ayle: Ayle makes claim, and the disseizor dies; then the Pere enters.-The Pere, sirrah, the Pere!And the Fitz enters upon the Pere; and the Ayle brings his writ of disseizen in the post, and the Pere brings his writ of disseizen in the Pere, and Man. 'Sdeath, Freeman, can you listen to this stuff? Mrs Black. Hold, sir! I must serve you [Gives a paper, which he throws away]; you are required, sir, by this, to give your testimony Man. I'll be forsworn, to be revenged of you. [Exit. Mrs Black. Get you gone for an unmannerly fellow! But the service is good in law; so he must attend it at his peril.-Come, Jerry, I had almost forgot, we are to meet at the master's before eleven. Let us mind our business still, child. Jer. Well, and who hinders you? Free. Nay, madam, now I would beg you to hear me a little.—A little of my business. Mrs Black. I have business of my own, sir, calls me away. Free. My business would prove yours too, ma dam. Mrs Black. What, 'tis no Westminster-hall business! would you have my advice? Free. No, faith; it is a little Westminster abbey business: I would have your consent. Mrs Black. Fye, fye! to me such language, sir! and in the presence of my dear minor here. Jer. Ay, ay, mother, he would be taking livery and seizen of your jointure, by digging the turf; but I'll watch his waters, and so you may tell him. Come along. [Exeunt JERRY and Widow. Enter FIDELIA. his desires behind: he took me with him; and, from that favourable circumstance, I suffered my self to be cheated with a thousand fond imaginations-Here he comes, and I must avoid him. Oh, fortune, fortune! I have been indiscreet; Fide. Dear Mr Freeman, speak to the captain yet surely I may be punished for my indiscretion with too great severity. for me. Free. Where is he? Fide. Within, sir. Free. Sighing and meditating, I suppose, on his darling mistress-He would never trust me to see her; is she handsome? Fide. I am not a proper judge. SCENE II. [Exit. Enter MANLY, in his uniform, followed by not return all day. Man. 'Sdeath! it is past eleven o'clock, and I should have been abroad before nine! But this Fide. A gentlewoman, I believe; but of as comes of being pestered with a pack of impertimean fortune as beauty. You know, sir, the cap-nent visitors. Well, I am going out, and shall tain made early choice of a sea life, to which the particularity of his disposition afterwards attached him. But, some time since, he determined to quit the navy; and, having conceived a violent passion for this lady, was about to marry, and retire with her into the country. Free. And what prevented him? Fide. The offer of a ship to go against the enemies of his country: however, when he came home again, the treaty was to be concluded; and in the mean time, he left his intended wife ten or twelve thousand pounds, lest any thing should happen to him, whilst he was abroad. Free. He has left her in the care of some friend, has he not? Pray, do you know any thing of him? Fide. Nothing further than that his name is Varnish; and he is a man, in whom the captain puts the greatest confidence. Free. What, I suppose you are going to pay your devoirs to some great man now? Man. And why should you suppose that? Free. Nay, faith, only because I think it is what you ought to do, and I know it is what those sort of people expect. Man. Well, but if they expect it from me, they shall be disappointed. I have done nothing to be afraid of, that I need solicit their interest, by way of a screen; and I leave those to dance attendance, who are more supple, and can play the parasite better-If they want, let them come -No, I am going at present, where, I dare swear, I shall be a welcome guest; and where I ought to have gone last night, indeed; but I came to town too late for her regular hours. to me Free, Oh! I guess where you mean; to the lady I have so often heard you talk of. Methinks I would give a good deal to see this phenomenon. She must needs be mistress of very wo-extraordinary charms, to engage a person of your difficult disposition. Free. But if this Olivia be not handsome, what the devil can he see in her? Fide. He imagines her, I suppose, the only man of truth and sincerity in the world. Free. No common beauties, I must confessFide. But methinks he should have had more than common proofs of them, before he trusted the bulk of his fortune in her hands. Free. Why, did he leave the sum you mention actually in her custody? Fide. So I am told. Man. The charms of her person, though in them she excels most of her sex, are her meanest beauties: her tongue, no more than her face, ever knew artifice: she is all sincerity; and hates the creeping, canting, hypocritical tribe, as I do; for which I love her, and I am sure she hates not me; for, as an instance of her inviolable attach Free. You thought she would keep! Man. Yes; for I tell you she is not like the rest of her sex, but can keep her promise, though she has sworn it. Free. Then he shewed love to her indeed-ment, when I was going to sea, and she found it But I'll go plead with him for you, and learn impracticable to accompany me, she insisted upon something more of this wonderful fair one. [Exit.my suffering her to swear, that, in my absence, Fide. Was ever woman in so strange, so cruel she would not listen to the addresses of any other a situation? As long as I have worn this disguise, man; which oath— I cannot look at myself without astonishment; but when I consider, that I have run such lengths for a man, who knows not that I love him, and, if he did know it, would certainly reject my passion-I am startled indeed. At the time I formed the bold resolution of going with him to sea, Man. You doubt it, then! Well, I shall be at I was sensible his affections were engaged to ano-her house in an hour; come to me there; ther: Why, then, did I embark in so rash an ad- lunteer will shew you the way; and we'll try how venture? because I loved; and love is apt to buoy long your infidelity will be able to resist convicitself up with false hopes; he left the object of | tion. Free. Ha, ha, ha! the vo [Exeunt. SCENE I-A dressing room. ACT II. Enter OLIVIA, ELIZA, and LETTICE. Oliv. On! horrid, abominable! Peace, cousin Eliza, or your discourse will be my aversion-But you cannot be in earnest, sure, when you say you like the filthy world! Eliz. You cannot be in earnest, sure, when you say you dislike it? Come, come, cousin Olivia, I will never believe, that a place, which has such a variety of charms for other women, should have none for you! Pray, what do you think of dressing and fine clothes? Enter FOOTBOY. Boy. Madam, here's the gentleman to wait on you. Oliv. On me, you little blockhead! Do you know what you say? Boy. Yes, ma'am, 'tis the gentleman, that comes every day to you. Oliv. Hold your tongue, you little heedless animal, and get out of the room. This country boy, cousin, takes my music-master, mercer, and spruce milliner, for visitors. [NOVEL speaks within. Lett. No, madam, 'tis Mr Novel, I am sure, by Oliv. You know nothing, you stupid creature! You would make my cousin believe I receive visits-However, if it be your Mr. Oliv. Dressing! it is, of all things, my aver-his talking so loud; I know his voice, too, madam. sion: I hate dressing: and I declare solcinnlyMercy on us! Come hither, you dowdy- -Heavens! what a figure you have made of my head to-day!-Oh, hideous! I can't bear it! Did you ever see any thing so frightful? Eliz. Well enough, cousin, if dressing be your aversion. Oliv, It is so; and for variety of rich clothes, they are more my aversion. Lett. That's because you wear them too long, Madam. Oliv. Insatiable creature! I take my death I have not wore this gown above three times; and I have made up six or seven more within these two months. Eliz. Then your aversion to them is not altogether so great. Oliv. Alas! cousin, it is for my woman I wear them. Eliz. But what do you think of visits-balls? Oliv. I abominate them-Filthy, obscene, hideous things! Eliz. What say you to the opera in winter, and to Ranelagh and Vauxhall in summer? or, if these want attractions to engage you, what say you to the court? Olic. The court, cousin! the court! my aversion! my aversion of all, aversions! Eliz. Well, but prithee Oliv. Nay, don't attempt to defend the court; for, if you do, you will make me rail against it. Eliz. To come nearer to the point, thenpray, what think you of a rich young husband? Oliv. Oh, rueful! marriage! What a pleasure you have found out! I nauseate the very thoughts of it. Lett. Mayhap, ma'am, my lady would rather like a generous, handsome, young lover! Oliv. What do mean, Mrs Impertinence, by talking such stuff in my hearing? A handsome young lover! A lover, indeed! I hate men of all things; and I declare solemnly I would not let one into my doors. Lett, Mr Novel, madain Oliv. Peace, will you! I'll hear no more of. him-But if it be your Mr.I cannot think of his name again—I supposed he followed my cousin hither, Eliz. No, cousin, I will not rob you of the honour of the visit; it is to you, cousin, for I know him not. Oliv. Nor I neither, upon my honour, cousin! Besides, have not I told you that visits, and the business of visits, flattery and detraction, are my aversion? Do you then think I would admit such a coxcomb as he; the scandal-carrier of the whole town! more impudently scurrilous than a party libeller, who abuses every person and every thing, and piques himself upon his talents for ridicule ! Eliz. I find you know him, cousin; at least have heard of him. Oliv. Yes, now I remember, Ihave heard of him. Eliz. Well, but if he is such a dangerous coxcomb, for heaven's sake let him not come up! tell him, Mrs Lettice, your lady is not at home. Oliv. No, Lettice, tell him my cousin is here, and that he may come up: for, notwithstanding I detest the sight of him, you may like his conversation; and I will not be rude to you in my own house. Since he has followed you hither, let him come up, I say. Eliz. Very fine! Let him go and be hanged, I say, for me! I know him not, nor desire it.— Send him away, Mrs Lettice. [Exit LETTICE. Oliv. Upon my word, she shall not; I must disobey your commands, to comply with your desires. Mr Novel! Mr Novel! Enter NOVEL. Nov. I beg ten thousand pardons, madam! perhaps you are busy; I did not know you had company. Eliz. Yet he comes to me, cousin. Nov. I should have waited on you yesterday evening, according to appointment; but I dined at a place, where there is always such a profusion of good cheer, and so hearty a welcome, that one can never get away, while one has either appetite or patience left-You know that surfeiting piece of hospitality, lady Autumn? Ha, ha, ha! the nauseous old fury at the upper end of her table Olio. Revives the ancient Grecian custom of serving up a death's head with their banquets! Oh, God! I detest her hollow cherry cheeks! She looks like an old coach new painted, affecting an unseemly smugness, while she is ready to drop in pieces. Nov. Excellent and admirable simile upon my soul! But do, madam, give me leave to paint her out to you a little, because I am intimately acquainted with the family. You must know she is horridly angry, if I don't dine at her house three times a-week. Oliv. Nay, for that matter, any one is welcome to partake of her victuals, who will be content to listen to her stories of herself, when she was a young woman, and used to go with her fat Flanders mares, in her father's great gilt chariot, to take the air in Hyde Park. Oh, cousin! I must tell you Nov. What, Madam! I thought I was going to tell the lady; but, perhaps, you think nobody has wit enough to draw characters but yourself; in which case, I have done. Oliv. Nay, I swear, you shall tell us who you had there at dinner. Nov. With all my heart, condescend to listen to me. madam, if you will Oliv. Most patiently, sir: pray speak. Nov. In the first place, then, we had her daughter, whom, I suppose, you have seen. Oliv. Seen! oh, I see her now! the very disgrace to good clothes, which she always wears to heighten her deformity, not mend it; for she is still most splendidly, gallantly ugly! and looks like an ill piece of daubing in a rich frame. Nov. Very well, madam! Have you done with Nov. In my opinion, she is like- Oliv. I draw from the life, cousin; paint every one in their proper colours. Eliz. Oh! cousin, I perceive you hate detrac tion! Oliv. But, Mr Novel, who had you besides as dinner? Nov. Ladies, I wish you a good morning! Oliv. 'Psha! how can you be so provoking? Nay, I take my death you shall not go, till you tell us the rest of the company! [Stopping NOVEL] who rises.] Come, sit down again: I long to hear who your men were; for I am sure I am acquainted with some of them. Nov. We had no men there at all, madam. Oliv. What! was not sir Marmaduke Gimcrack with you? I'll lay fifty pounds on it! for I know he is courting one of her ladyship's crooked nieces. Nov. Pray, ma'am, let me go. Oliv. Nay, I know another of your company, I hold you a wager of it. Come, my lord Plausible dined with you, too, who is, cousin Eliz. You need not tell me what he is, cousin; for I know him to be a civil, good-natured gentleman, who talks well of all the world, and is never out of humour. Oliv. Hold, cousin! I hate detraction: but I must tell you he is a tiresome, insipid coxcomb, without either sense to see faults, or wit to expose them; in fine, he is of all things my aversion, and I never admit his visits beyond my hall. Nov. No! he visit you! damn him! he's never admitted to any one but worn-out dowagers, and superannuated maidens, who want to be flattered into conceit with themselves; he has often strove to scrape acquaintance with me, but I always took care Enter LORD PLAUSIBLE. Ha! my dear, my dear lord! let me embrace you. Eliz. Well, this is pleasant! L. Plau. Your most faithful, humble servant, generous Mr Novel; and, madam, I am your eternal slave, and kiss your fair hands, which I had done sooner, according to your orders Oliv. No excuses, my lord, I know you must divide yourself; your company is too general a city bride; the greater fortune, but not the great-good to be engrossed by any particular friend. er beauty, for her dress. Nov. Yet have you done, madam? Oliv. Pray, sir, proceed. Nov. Then, she Oliv. I was just going to say so-she Eliz. I find, cousin, one may have a collection of all one's acquaintance's pictures at your house, as well as at sir Joshua Reynolds's, with this difference only, that his are handsome likenesses; to say the truth, you are the first of the profession of portrait-painters I ever knew without flattery. VOL. II. Eliz. You hate flattery, cousin! L. Plau. Oh lord, madam! my company! your most obliged, faithful, humble servant! But I might have brought you good company, indeed; for I parted just now at your door with two of the most sensible, worthy men— Olio. Who are they, my lord? Nov. Who do you call the most sensible, worthy men? L. Plau. Oh, sir, two of the brightest characters of the present age; men of such honour and T virtue. Perhaps, you may know them-Count Levant, and sir Richard Court-Title. Nov. Court-Title! ha! ha! ha! Oliv. And count Levant! How can you keep such a wretch company, my lord? L. Plau. Oh seriously, madam, you are too severe he is highly carest by every body. Oliv. Carest, my lord! why he was never three times in company in his life, without being twice kicked out of it. Nov. And for sir Richard! L. Plau. He is nice in his connections, and loves to chuse those he converses with. Oliv. He loves a lord, indeed Nov. Or any thing with a title MANLY and footboy speak within. Man. Not at home! Not see me! I tell you she is at home, and she will see me— -let her know my name is Manly. Boy. Well, but your honour, my lady's sick, I dare not go to her. Man. Well, then, I'll go to her. Boy. Help, Mrs Lettice! help! here's the sea gentleman! Oliv. What noise is that? Enter MANLY. Man. My Olivia! 'Sdeath, what do I see! In close conversation with these! Oliv. Though he borrows his money, and never pays him again. Nay, he carries his passioned: however, I am prepared for him. for quality so far, that they say the creature has an intrigue among them; and half starves his poor wife and family, by keeping a correspondence with that overgrown piece of right honourable filthiness, lady Bab Clumsey. Oliv. Ha, Manly! this is somewhat unexpect L. Plau. Oh, madam, he frequents her house because it is the tabernacle-gallant, the meeting-house for all the fine ladies and people of fashion about town. Nov. Mighty fine ladies! There is first- a Nov. Then there's Miss what dye call herOliv. As sluttish and slatternly as an Irish woman bred in France. L. Plau. She has a prodigious fund of wit; and the handsomest heel, elbow, and tip of an ear, you ever saw. [Aside L. Plau. Most noble and heroic captain, your Oliv. Sir! Man. It seems, madam, as if I was an unwelcome guest here: your footboy would hardly allow me admittance; at first he told me you were not at home. Indeed, I did not expect to find you in such good company. Oliv. I suppose, sir, my servant had orders for what he did. L. Plau. Perhaps, madam, Mr Novel and I incommode you; the captain and you may have something to say, so we'll retire. Oliv. Upon my honour, my lord, you shan't stir; the captain and I have nothing to say to one another, assure yourself, nor ever shall: 'tis only one of his mad freaks, for which you will make allowances; salt-water lovers, you know, Nov. Heel and elbow! Ha, ha, ha! Eliz. I find you see all faults with lover's eyes, will be boisterous now and then. my lord! L. Plau. Oh, Madam, your most obliged, faithful, very humble servant, to command! Nov. Pray, my lord, are you acquainted with lady Sarah Dawdle? L. Plau. Yes, sure, sir, very well, and extremely proud I am of the great honour; for she is a person whose wit, beauty, and conduct, nobody can call in question. Oliv. No! Nov. No! pray, inadam, let me speak. L. Plau. Her eyes languish a little, I own, Oliv. Languish ! Eliz. Well, this is to be borne no longer: cousin, I have some visits to make this morning, and will take my leave. Oliv. You will not, sure! nay, you shall not venture my reputation, by leaving me with two men here. You'll disoblige me for everEliz. If I stay! your servant. Man. Confusion! Nov. We shall have a quarrel here presently: Oliv. Even what you please, good captain. Man. And is this the reception I meet with af ter an absence Oliv. And is this behaving like a gentleman, to force into a lady's apartment contrary to her inclinations? I suppose it is Wapping breeding: however, you are fitted for your ill manners. Man. I am fitted for believing you could not be fickle, though you were young; could not dissemble love, though it was for your interest; nor be vain, though you were handsome; nor break your promise, though to a parting lover. But I take not your contempt of me worse than your keeping company with and encouraging these things here. Nov. Things! L. Plau. Let the captain rally a little. [Exit. thing? |