صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

Heart. [Hesitating.] Nor-IYoung Cla. But I do; and so you will all presently. Well, my dear uncle, what! are you astonished, petrified, annihilated?

Sir Cha. With your impudence, Jack!-But I'll see it out.

Enter Miss HARRIET.

Miss Har. Bless me, Mr. Heartly! what is all this music for in the next room!

Young Cla. I brought the gentlemen of the string, mademoiselle, to convince you, that I feel, as I ought, the honour you have done me [Showing the letter.] But, for Heaven's sake, be sincere a little with these good folks: They tell me here, that I am nobody, and there is another happier than myself; and, for the soul of me, I don't know how to believe them, ha, ha, ha!

Sir Cha. Let us hear miss speak.

Miss Har. It is a most terrible task: but I am compelled to it; and to hesitate any longer would be injurious to my guardian, his friend, this young gentleman, and my own character.

Young Cla. Most judicious, upon my soul.
Sir Cha. Hold your tongue, Jack.
Young Cla. I am dumb.

Miss Har. You have all been in an error. My bashfulness may have deceived you-My heart never did.

Young Cla. C'est vrai.

Miss Har. Therefore, before I declare my sentiments, it is proper that I disavow any engagement: But at the same time must con

fess

Young Cla. Ho-ho!

Miss Har. With fear and shame confessYoung Cla. Courage, mademoiselle! Miss Har. That another, not you, sir, has gained a power over my heart.

[To YOUNG CLACKIT. Sir Cha. Another, not you; mind that, Jack. Ha, ha!

Miss Har. It is a power, indeed, which he despises. I cannot be deceived in his conduct. -Modesty may tie the tongue of our sex, but silence in him could proceed only from contempt.

Sir Cha. How prettily she reproaches me !But I'll soon make it up with her.

Miss Har. As to that letter, sir, your error there is excusable; and I own myself in that particular a little blameable. But it was not my fault that it was sent to you; and the contents must have told you, that it could not possibly be meant for you. [TO YOUNG CLACKIT. Sir Cha. Proof positive, Jack Say no more. Now is my time to begin. Hem! hem!-Sweet young lady!-hem! whose charms are so mighty, so far transcending every thing that we read of in history or fable, how could you possibly think that my silence proceeded from contempt? Was it natural or prudent, think you, for a man of

1

sixty-five, nay, just entering into his sixty-sixth year

Young Cla. O Misericorde! What, is my uncle my rival! Nay, then, I shall burst, by Jupiter! Ha, ha, ha!

Miss Har. Don't imagine, sir, that, to me your age is any fault.

Sir Cha. [Bowing.] You are very obliging, madam.

Miss Har. Neither is it, sir, a merit of that extraordinary nature, that I should sacrifice to it an inclination which I have conceived for another.

Sir Cha. How is this?

Young Clu. Another! not you-mind that,

uncle.

Lucy. What is the meaning of all this? Young Cla. Proof positive, uncle—and very positive.

Sir Cha. I have been led into a mistake, madam, which I hope you will excuse; and I have made myself very ridiculous, which I hope I shall forget: And so, madam, I am your humble servant.-This young lady has something very extraordinary about her!

Heart. What I now see, and the remembrance of what is past, force me to break silence. Young Cla. Ay, now for it. Hear him, hear him!

Heart. O my Harriet! I, too, must be disgraced in my turn. Can you think, that I have seen and conversed with you unmoved? Indeed I have not. The more I was sensible of your merit, the stronger were my motives to stifle the ambition of my heart. But now I can no longer resist the violence of my passion, which casts me at your feet, the most unworthy, indeed, of all your admirers, but of all the most affectionate.

Young Cla. So, so! the moon has changed, and the grown gentlemen begin to be frisky! Lucy. What, my master in love, too! I'll never trust these tye-wigs again.

[Aside.

Mis Har. I have refused my hand to Sir Charles and this young gentleman: The one accuses me of caprice, the other of singularity, Should I refuse my hand a third time [Smiling.] I might draw upon myself a more severe reproach; and therefore I accept your favour, sir, and will endeavour to deserve it.

Heart. And thus I seal my acknowledgments, and from henceforth devote my every thought, and all my services, to the author of my happiness. [Kisses her hand.

Sir Cha. Well, my dear discreet nephew, are you satisfied with the fool's part you have given me, and played yourself, in the farce?

Young Cla. What would you have me say, sir? I am too much a philosopher to fret myself, because the wind, which was east this morning, is now west. The poor girl, in pique, has killed herself, to be revenged on me; but, hark ye, sir, I believe Heartly will be cursed mad to have me live in his neighbourhood.A word to the wise

Sir Cha. Thou hast a most incorrigible vanity, Jack, and nothing can cure thee. Mr. Heartly, I have sense enough, and friendship enough, not to be uneasy at your happiness.

Heart. I hope, Sir Charles, that we shall still continue to live as neighbours and friends. For you, my Harriet, words cannot express my wonder or my joy; my future conduct must tell you

what a sense I have of my happiness, and how much I shall endeavour to deserve it.

For every charm that ever yet blessed youth, Accept compliance, tenderness, and truth; My friendly care shall change to grateful love, And the fond husband still the GUARDIAN prove.

BO

[blocks in formation]

Slip. The same, i'faith!

Mar. 'Tis he, as I live!

Slip. My friend, happily met !

Mar. My dear, I embrace you ?-Not see

there had been some fresh misunderstanding between you and the law.

Slip. Faith! my dear, I have had a narrow escape, since I saw you, I had like to have been preferred in some of our settlements abroad, but I found there was no doing the business by deputy, so

Mar. I AM sick as a dog of being a valeting you among the beau-monde, I was afraid running after other people's business, and neglecting my own--this low life is the devil! -I've had a taste for the gentleman, and shall never lose it, 'Tis thy own fault, my little Martin! Thou would'st always play small games; when, had you but had the face to put yourself forward a little, some well jointured widow had taken you into her post-chariot, and made your fortune at once. A fellow of my wit and spirit should have broke twice, and set up again by this time.

Enter SLIP.

Slip. Hey! is not that, that rascal, Martin, yonder?

Mar. Can that be my modest friend, Slip?
[Aside.

Mar. Did not accept of the place, ha!why what little mischief had'st thou been at?

-(I

Slip. Why, I don't know-meeting one night with a certain Portuguese Jew-merchant, in one of the back streets here by the exchangewas a little in liquor I believe-piping hot from a turtle-feast) it came into my giddy head to stop him, out of mere curiosity, to ask what news from Germany-nothing more, and the fellow, not understanding good English, would needs

have it, that I asked him for something elseHe bawi'd out, up came the watch, down was I laid in the kennel, and then carried before a magistrate-He clapped me on a stone doublet, that I could not get off my back for two months. Mar. Two months, say you?

Slip. And there I might have rotted, if I had not had great friends; a certain lady of quality's woman's cousin, that was kept by Mr. Quirk, of Thavies-Inn, you must know, was in love with me, and she

Mar. Brought you in not guilty, I warrant. Oh! great friends is a great matter.

Slip. This affair really gave me some serious reflexions.

Mar. No doubt, it spoiled you for a newsmonger: no more intelligence from foreign countries, hey!

Slip. Well but, Martin! what's thy history since I saw thee!

Mar. Um! a novel only, sir: why, I am ashamed to say it: I am but an honorary rascal, as well as yourself.-I did try my luck, indeed, at Epsom, and Newmarket; but the knowing ones were taken in, and I was obliged to return to service again. But a master without money, implies a servant without wages; I am not in love with my condition, I promise you.

a

Mar. Ay, he's dying for the-twenty thousand-that's all- -but since your master

[Going. Slip. Oh! there you're safe enough; my master will never marry Miss Stockwell: there happens to be a small rub in the way. Mar. What rub?

Slip. Only married already.
Mar. How?

Slip. Why, his father would marry him here in town, it seems, and he-chose to be married in the country-that's all. The truth is, our young gentleman managed matters with the young lady so ill, or so well, that, upon his father's return, there was hot consulting among the relations; and the lady being of a good family, and having a smart fighting fellow of a brother in the army-why, my master, who hates quarrelling, spoke to the old gentleman, and the affair's hushed up by a marriage, that's all.

Mar. Um! an entire new face of affairs! Slip. My master's wedding-cloaths, and mine, are all ordered for the country, and I am to follow them, as soon as I have seen the family here, and redeemed my old master's promise, that lies in pawn.

Mar. Old master's promise!-let me thinkSlip. 'Twas what brought me to town, or I had not shook my honest friend by the fist. Martin, good morrow!-what in the dumps ?—we shall

Mar. Let me alone, I have a thought-bark you, my dear? is thy master known to old Stockwell?

Slip. Never saw him in his life.

Slip. I am with mine, I assure you: I am retired from the great world-that's my taste now -and live in the country, with one Mr. Har-meet again, man. 'Tis lowe-piping hot from his travels. charming young fellow! Drinking, hunting, and wenching, my boy!-a man of universal knowledge. Then I am his privy counsellor, and we always play the devil together. That amuses one, you know, and keeps one out of mischief. Mar. Yes, pretty lambs! But what makes you in London now? whither are you bound? Slip. To yonder great house. Mar. What, Mr. Stockwell's? Slip. The same. You must know his daughter is engaged to my master.

Mar. That's brave, my boy!-[Hits him a slap on the back.]-Art thou still a cock of the game, Slip? and shall we?—No; I doubt-I doubt that damned Jew-merchant sticks in thy stomach, and you are turned dunghill, you dog!

Slip. Try me. A good sailor won't die a dry death at land for one hurricane. Speak out!— you would pass your master upon the family for mine, and marry him to the lady? is not that the trick?

Mar. Miss Stockwell to your master? Slip. Tis not above six weeks ago, that my master's father, sir Harry Harlowe, was here Mar. That! I have a trick worth two on't; I upon a visit to his old friend, and then the mat-know Miss Nancy is a girl of taste, and I have a prettier fellow in my eye for her. Slip. Ay, who's he?

ter was settled between them-quite à la mode, I assure you.

Mar. How do you mean?

Slip. The old folk struck the bargain, without the consent of the young ones, or even their seeing one another.

Mar. Tip top, I assure you; and every thing's agreed?

Slip. Signed and sealed by the two fathers; the lady and her fortune both ready to be delivered. Twenty thousand, you rogue !-ready rhino down! and only wait for young master to write a receipt.

Mar. Whew! Then my young master may e'en make a leg to his fortune, and set up his staff somewhere else. Slip. Thy master.

Mar. Myself, you puppy!
Slip. That's brave, my boy!

[Slaps him on the back. Mar. I'm in love with her toSlip. To the value of twenty thousand pounds? I approve your flame.

Mar. I will take the name and shape of your master. Slip. Very well!

Mar. Marry Miss Stockwell.
Slip. Agreed.

Mar. Touch the twenty thousand.
Slip. Um !-Well, well!

Mar. And disappear before matters come to an eclaircissement.

Slip, Um! That article wants a little expla- | into my heart, and if I consent to marry this nation, my honest friend.

Mar. How so?

Slip. You talk of disappearing with the lady's fortune, and never mention Slip in the treaty. Mar. Oh! we shall disappear together, to be sure. I have more honour than to go without you.

Slip. Well, on that condition, I am content to play your back hand. But bold, hold! how will you pass yourself for my master, in a family where you are so much known?

Mar. Hold your fool's tongue-this is my first visit to them. I returned but yesterday to my master. You must know, I asked his leave to be absent a week, and I made free with a month: 'twas a party of pleasure, so I made bold. During my absence, he saw this lady, liked her person, adored her fortune, and now, by my help, hopes to be in possession of both in a few days.

Slip. And you'll do the lady the honour to help her to a better match?

Mar. She'll think so, I believe.

Slip. Well said, conceit !-But what sort of people are your father and mother-in-law?

Mar. I am told he is a mere citizen, who, thinking himself very wise, is often outwitted; and his lady has as much vanity in her way; will never be old, though turned of sixty; and as irresolute and capricious as a girl of fifteen. And Miss, I suppose, is like all other misses, wants to be her own mistress, and her husband's; and, in the mean time, is governed by her chambermaid, who will be too hard for us both, if we don't look about us.

Slip. But harkye! what shall we do with the old gentleman's letter that I'm to deliver? This will knock us all up!

Mar. Write another.

Slip. That's easier said than done-but I'll do my best, as you can't write.

Mar. Do you see after my wedding-cloaths, that they do not set out for the country. We have no time to lose.

Slip. My master's will fit you to a hair.
Mar. But stay, stay! I must see my master
first. If he should appear and surprise us, we're
in a fine pickle. I must make him keep house
for a few days I'll think of a lie as I go-Egad
I have it already-I'll to him, and meet you af-
terwards at the tavern! there take a glass, cast
this coarse skin, whip on the gentleman, and
shame the first men of fashion in the kingdom.
Erit.
Slip. If impudence will do our business, 'tis
done,

And the twenty thousand are our own.
[Exit.

SCENE II-An Apartment in MR. STOCK

WELL'S house.

Enter Miss NANCY and JENNY.

man, 'twill be the death of me. Advise me then, and don't be so teazing.

Jen. Lud! What advice can I give you? I have but two in the world; one is, to forget your lover, and t'other, to disobey your father. You have too much love to take the one, and I too much conscience to give t'other; so we are just where we were, madam.

Nan. Don't torment me, Jenny.

Jen. Why, I fancy we might find a way to reconcile your love and my conscience. Nan. How, how, my dear girl! Jen. Supose we were to open the affair to your mamma?

Nan. Nay, now your jesting is cruel. Jen. I never was more in earnest, madam. She loves flattery dearly; and she loves her daughter dearly. I'll warrant, with a sigh, and a tear, and a handkerchief, she makes her husband break his word with young Harlowe in a quarter of an hour after his arrival.

Nan. Not unlikely; but if

Jen. What, at your ifs, no doubts, I beg, where I am concerned.

Nan. But you know my poor mother is so unsettled a creature.

Jen. Why, that's true enough; the last speaker is her oracle, so let us lose no time to bring her over to-Hark! Here she comes-do you retire, till I have prepared her for you.

[Exit NANCY.

Enter MRS. STOCKWELL. Well, of all the women in London, sure there never was such a temper as my lady's.

Mrs. Stock. What can have set this girl against me?

[Aside.

Jen. Such good humour, and good sense to gether, seldom meet-then such a perpetual smile upon her features! Well, her's is a sort of a face that can never grow old; what would I give for such a lasting face as she has !

Mrs. Stock Hussy, hussy! you're a flatterer! [Taps her on the shoulder. Jen. Ah!--Madam, is it you? I vow you made me start. Miss Nancy and I had just been talking of you, and we agreed you were one of the best of women, the most reasonable friend, the tenderest mother, and the-thethe

Mrs. Stock. Nay, that's too much. I have my failings, and my virtues too, Jenny-in one thing, indeed, I am very unlike other women; I always hearken to reason.

Jen. That's what I said, madam.

Mrs. Stock. I am neither headstrong nor fantastical; neither

Jen. No, sweet lady, the smallest twine may lead you. Miss, says I, hear reason, like your mamma; will so good a mother, do you think, force her daughter to marry against her inclination?

Mrs. Stock. I force my child's inclinations! Nan. You know, Jenny, that Belford has got No, I make the case my own. But tell me,

« السابقةمتابعة »