Title: The Man of the World (1792)
Author: Macklin, Charles, 1699?-1797
Language: English
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The Augustan Reprint Society


Charles Macklin
THE MAN OF THE WORLD
(1792)

With an Introduction by
Dougald MacMillan


Publication Number 26

Los Angeles
William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
University of California
1951



_GENERAL EDITORS_

H. RICHARD ARCHER, _Clark Memorial Library_
RICHARD C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_
EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_
JOHN LOFTIS, _University of California, Los Angeles_


_ASSISTANT EDITOR_

W. EARL BRITTON, _University of Michigan_


_ADVISORY EDITORS_

EMMETT L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_
BENJAMIN BOYCE, _Duke University_
LOUIS I. BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_
CLEANTH BROOKS, _Yale University_
JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_
ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_
SAMUEL H. MONK, _University of Minnesota_
ERNEST MOSSNER, _University of Texas_
JAMES SUTHERLAND, _Queen Mary College, London_
H.T. SWEDENBERG, JR., _University of California, Los Angeles_



INTRODUCTION


During his extraordinarily long career as an actor, Charles Macklin wrote
several plays. The earliest is _King Henry VII; or, The Popish Imposter_,
a tragedy based on the Perkin Warbeck story, performed at Drury Lane 18
January 1745/6 and published the same year. As the Preface states, it "was
design'd as a Kind of Mirror to the present Rebellion"; and it provided
the author with a part in which he could express, through the character of
Lord Huntley, his own aversion to foreign influences in the land, to
"_French_ and Priest-rid Weakness" and "Romish Tyranny." This and his
succeeding plays were obviously composed to provide parts for himself; so
no others were published until he had retired. They were his stock in
trade, since Macklin seldom maintained a stable connection with one of the
theatres. Instead he appeared now here now there for brief engagements or
on special occasions, rather than as a regular member of the company,
often carrying his plays with him. Thus a number have survived only in
manuscript. The Larpent Collection contains seven,--the tragedy just
mentioned, four farces, and two five-act comedies, one of these in three
states.[1] This is _The Man of the World_ here reproduced for the first
time in over a century and a half, despite the opinion expressed by Isaac
Reed, in 1782, that "This play, ... in respect to originality, force of
mind, and well-adapted satire, may dispute the palm with any dramatic
piece that has appeared within the compass of half a century...."[2]
Originally it had been performed in Dublin in 1764 under the title _The
True-born Scotchman_, but in 1770 the Examiner of Plays in London refused
to license it. It was re-submitted in 1779 and again forbidden, but was
finally allowed and performed at Covent Garden on 10 May 1781, with the
author in the part of Sir Pertinax Macsycophant.

Himself irascible and passionate, Macklin had been the most admired
Shylock of his century. His specialty was the performance of character
parts, often dialect roles, either broadly comic or cruel and ironic. The
central figure of this, his best comedy, is such a part. It combines those
features that the author could portray so effectively, the broad dialect,
the callous selfishness, the hypocrisy, the passionate resistance to all
appeals to sentiment and the imperviousness to affection. One can detect
in the creation strong resemblances to Macklin's interpretation of
Shylock, something of Sir Giles Overreach, who was also known to
eighteenth-century play-goers, and possibly of Tartuffe. In his resolute
defiance of the conventions of comedy of sensibility, Macklin resisted the
pressure to allow Sir Pertinax to soften in the end and terminate the play
on a note of happy reconciliation and family harmony.

In thus preserving the toughness of Sir Pertinax consistently to the end,
Macklin remained true to the tradition of critical, satiric comedy that he
had been bred in but that by this time had almost disappeared. Protesting
against the refusal of a license for his play, in 1779, Macklin composed a
defense of satiric comedy. He insists upon the reformatory function of
comedy and upon the satiric method of performing this task. "The business
of the Stage," he says, "is to correct vice, and laugh at folly ... This
piece is in support of virtue, morality, decency, and the Laws of the
Land: it satirizes both public and private venality, and reprobates
inordinate passions and tyrannical conduct in a parent ... Now, with
regard to my comedy is it not just and salutary that the subtilty [_sic_],
pride, insolence, cunning, and the thorough-paced villany [_sic_] of a
backbiting Scotchman should be ridiculed? What a wretched state the Comic
Muse and the Stage would be reduced to, were the prohibition of laughing
at the corruption and other vices of the age to prevail!"[3] True the
Comic
Muse, long sick, as Garrick said in his prologue to _She Stoops to
Conquer_, had almost died, though farces had done something to sustain
her. Fielding's and Garrick's little satires had largely avoided
sentiment; and the personal, often gross farces of Foote had continued to
use ridicule. But even these lack the forceful pertinacity of Macklin's
denunciation of hypocrisy and vice. It is perhaps too bad that he fell so
far into caricature in the portraits of Lord Lumbercourt and his daughter,
that the main love stories do smack of sensibility, and that he turned his
hero into a mouthpiece for the opposition to the Tory ministries of the
early years of George III. And it is perhaps true that all the characters,
including Sir Pertinax, are more true to the theatre than to the actual
life of the last quarter of the eighteenth century. Still, Sir Pertinax is
vigorous, and the author's position is unmistakable.

The earliest portion of _The Man of the World_ in the Larpent Collection
is a passage in the fourth act of _The School for Husbands_, performed at
Covent Garden as _The Married Libertine_ on 28 January 1761, twenty years
before _The Man of the World_ was finally presented in London. Elsewhere I
have compared the three complete versions submitted to the Examiner and
have shown why the Lord Chamberlain could not permit it to be licensed.[4]

_The Man of the World_ was first published in England, with Macklin's
farce _Love a la Mode_, by subscription, in a handsome quarto. Facing the
title-page is a portrait of the author, "in his 93.^d Year," engraved by
John Condé after Opie, for which the trustees of the fund paid 25 guineas.
Preceding the text of the play are the list of subscribers, which contains
many eminent names, an "Advertisement from the Editor," explaining the
occasion and method of publication and giving an account of the handling
of the fund by the trustees, and a dedication to Lord Camden, dated 10
December 1792, and signed by Macklin, though one rather suspects that
Arthur Murphy had a hand in its composition. These pieces of front matter
have been omitted from the present reproduction as containing nothing
material to the reading or interpretation of the play. The _Dramatis
Personae_ follow, and the text begins with signature B page 1, and runs to
signature K2^{V}. _Love a la Mode_, not reprinted here, then follows,
with separate title-page and pagination.

Dougald MacMillan

The University of North Carolina


    Notes to the Introduction

[Footnote 1: See _Catalogue of the Larpent Plays in the Huntington
Library_ (1939), Nos. 55, 58, 64, 96, 184, 274, 311, 500, 558.]

[Footnote 2: _Biographia Dramatica_ (1812), III, 15.]

[Footnote 3: Quoted by Edward Abbot Parry, _Charles Macklin_ (1891), p.
179.]

[Footnote 4: See _The Huntington Library Bulletin_, No. 10 (October,
1936), pp. 79-101.]



THE MAN OF THE WORLD.


A COMEDY.


BY

MR. CHARLES MACKLIN.


AS PERFORMED AT THE

_THEATRES-ROYAL, DRURY-LANE AND COVENT-GARDEN_.


_LONDON_:


PRINTED BY J. BELL, BOOKSELLER TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE PRINCE OF WALES,
AT THE BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND.


MDCCXCIII.



[Illustration: CHARLES MACKLIN (COMEDIAN) _in his 93d. Year_.

Printed for the Author by John Bell British Library London July 1792]



_Dramatis Personæ_.

COVENT-GARDEN.


Men.

_SIR PERTINAX MACSYCOPHANT_,    MR. WILSON.
_EGERTON_,                      MR. LEWIS.
_LORD LUMBERCOURT_              MR. THOMPSON.
_SIDNEY_,                       MR. AICKIN.
_MELVILLE_,                     MR. HULL.
_COUNSELLOR PLAUSIBLE_          MR. CUBITT.
_SERJEANT EITHERSIDE_,          MR. MACREADY.
_SAM_,                          MR. LEDGER.
_JOHN_,                         MR. ROCK
_TOMLINS_,                      MR. EVATT.


Women

_LADY MACSYCOPHANT_             MISS. PLATT.
_LADY RODOLPHA LUMBERCOURT_,    MRS. POPE.
_CONSTANTIA_,                   MRS. MOUNTAIN.
_BETTY HINT_,                   MRS. ROCK.
_NANNY_,                        MRS. DEVERETT.



THE MAN OF THE WORLD.


_ACT I. SCENE I_.

    _A Library_. _Enter_ BETTY _and_ SAM.


_Betty_. The Postman is at the gate, Sam; pray step and take in the
letters.

_Sam_. John the gardener is gone for them, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. Bid John bring them to me, Sam: tell him I am here in the Library.

_Sam_. I'll send him to your ladyship in a crack, madam. [_Exit_.


    _Enter_ NANNY.

_Nan_. Miss Constantia desires to speak to you, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. How is she now? any better, Nanny?

_Nan_. Something; but very low spirited still. I verily believe it is as
you say.

_Bet_. O! I would take my book oath of it. I can not be deceived in that
point, Nanny.--Ay, ay, her business is done, she is certainly breeding,
depend upon it.

_Nan_. Why so the housekeeper thinks too.

_Bet_. Nay, I know the father--the man that ruined her.

_Nan_. The deuce you do?

_Bet_. As sure as you are alive, Nanny;--or I am greatly deceived,--and
yet--I can't be deceived neither.--Was not that the cook that came
gallopping so hard over the common just now?

_Nan_. The same:--how very hard he gallopped;---he has been but three
quarters of an hour, he says, coming from Hyde Park Corner.

_Bet_. And what time will the family be down?


_Nan._ He has orders to have dinner ready by five; there are to be lawyers
and a great deal of company here--he fancies there is to be a private
wedding to night between our young Master Charles and Lord Lumbercourt's
Daughter, the Scotch lady, who he says is just come post from Bath in
order to be married to him.

_Bet._ Ay, ay--Lady Rodolpha--nay, like enough--for I know it has been
talked of a good while;--well, go tell Miss Constantia that I will be with
her immediately.

_Nan._ I shall, Mrs. Betty. [_Exit._

_Bet._ Soh! I find they all believe the impertinent creature is
breeding--that's pure! it will soon reach my lady's ears, I warrant.


    _Enter_ JOHN.

Well, John, ever a letter for me?

_John._ No, Mrs. Betty, but here is one for Miss Constantia.

_Bet._ Give it me.--Hum!--my lady's hand.

_John._ And here is one which the postman says is for my young master--but
it's a strange direction. [_reads._] '_To_ Charles Egerton, _Esq._'

_Bet._ O! yes, yes,--that is for Master Charles, John:--for he has dropped
his father's name of Macsycophant, and has taken up that of Egerton--the
parliament has ordered it.

_John._ The parliament!--pr'ythee, why so, Mrs. Betty?

_Bet._ Why you must know, John, that my lady, his mother, was an Egerton
by her father:--she stole a match with our old master, for which all her
family on both sides have hated Sir Pertinax and the whole crew of the
Macsycophants ever since.

_John._ Except Master Charles, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet._ O! they dote upon him, though he is a Macsycophant--he is the pride
of all my lady's family:--and so, John,--my lady's uncle, Sir Stanley
Egerton dying an old bachelor, and, as I said before, mortally hating our
old master, and all the crew of the Macsycophants, left his whole estate
to Master Charles, who was his godson,--but on condition that he should
drop his father's name of Macsycophant, and take up that of Egerton--and
that is the reason, John, why the parliament has made him change his name.

_John._ I am glad that Master Charles has got the estate, however--for he
is a sweet tempered gentleman.

_Bet._ As ever lived:--but come, John, as I know you love Miss Constantia,
and are fond of being where she is--I will make you happy;--you shall
carry her letter to her.

_John._ Shall I, Mrs. Betty?--I am very much obliged to you.--Where is
she?

_Bet._ In the housekeeper's room settling the dessert.--Give me Mr.
Egerton's letter, and I'll leave it on the table in his dressing room. I
see it's from his brother Sandy.--So,--now go and deliver your letter to
your sweetheart, John.

_John._ That I will;--and I am much beholden to you for the favour of
letting me carry it to her:--for though she should never have me, yet I
shall always love her, and wish to be near her, she is so sweet a
creature.--Your servant, Mrs. Betty. [_Exit._

_Bet._ Your servant, John. Ha, ha, ha! poor fellow! he perfectly dotes on
her--and daily follows her about with nosegays and fruit and the first of
every thing in the season.--Ay, and my young Master Charles too is in as
bad a way as the gardener:--in short--every body loves her,--and that's
one reason why I hate her.--For my part, I wonder what the deuce the men
see in her--a creature that was taken in for charity.--I am sure she's not
so handsome.--I wish she was out of the family once:--if she was, I might
then stand a chance of being my lady's favourite myself;--ay, and perhaps
of getting one of my young masters for a sweetheart,--or at least the
chaplain: but as to him, there would be no such great catch if I should
get him. I will try for him however,--and my first step shall be to tell
the doctor all I have discovered about Constantia's intrigues with her
spark at Hadley.--Yes,--that will do,--for the doctor loves to talk with
me,--loves to hear _me_ talk too,--and I verily believe--he, he, he!--that
he has a sneaking kindness for me,--and this story will make him have a
good opinion of my honesty,--and that, I am sure, will be one step
towards----O! bless me,--here he comes,--and my young master with him.--
I'll watch an opportunity to speak to him as soon as he is alone,--for I
will blow her up I am resolved,--as great a favourite and as cunning as
she is. [_Exit._

    _Enter_ EGERTON _in great warmth and emotion_;
            SIDNEY _following, as in conversation_.

_Sid_. Nay, dear Charles, but why are you so impetuous?--why do you break
from me so abruptly?

_Eger. [With great warmth_.] I have done, sir,--you have refused.--I have
nothing more to say upon the subject.--I am satisfied.

_Sid. [With a glow of tender friendship_.] Come, come--correct this
warmth,--it is the only weak ingredient in your nature, and you ought to
watch it carefully. If I am wrong,--I will submit without reserve;--but
consider the nature of your request--and how it would affect me:--from
your earliest youth, your father has honoured me with the care of your
education, and the general conduct of your mind; and, however singular and
morose his temper may be to others,--to me--he has ever been respectful
and liberal.--I am now under his roof too,--and because I will not abet an
unwarrantable passion by an abuse of my sacred character, in marrying you
beneath your rank,--and in direct opposition to your father's hopes and
happiness,--you blame me--you angrily break from me--and call me unkind.

_Eger. [With tenderness and conviction_.] Dear Sidney,--for my warmth I
stand condemned: but for my marriage with Constantia, I think I can
justify it upon every principle of filial duty,--honour,--and worldly
prudence.

_Sid_. Only make that appear, Charles, and you know you may command me.

_Eger. [With great filial regret_.] I am sensible how unseemly it appears
in a son to descant on the unamiable passions of a parent;--but, as we are
alone, and friends,--I cannot help observing in my own defence,--that when
a father will not allow the use of reason to any of his family--when his
pursuit of greatness makes him a slave abroad--only to be a tyrant at
home,--when a narrow partiality to Scotland, on every trivial occasion,
provokes him to enmity even with his wife and children, only because they
dare give a national preference where they think it most justly due;--and
when, merely to gratify his own ambition, he would marry his son into a
family he detests,--[_great warmth_.] sure, Sidney, a son thus
circumstanced (from the dignity of human reason and the feelings of a
loving heart) has a right--not only to protest against the blindness of a
parent, but to pursue those measures that virtue and happiness point out.

_Sid_. The violent temper of Sir Pertinax, I own, cannot be defended on
many occasions, but still--your intended alliance with Lord Lumbercourt--

_Eger_. [_With great impatience._] O! contemptible!--a trifling, quaint,
haughty, voluptuous, servile tool,--the mere lackey of party and
corruption; who, for the prostitution of near thirty years and the ruin of
a noble fortune, has had the despicable satisfaction, and the infamous
honour--of being kicked up and kicked down--kicked in and kicked out,--
just as the insolence, compassion, or convenience of leaders
predominated:--and now--being forsaken by all parties, his whole political
consequence amounts to the power of franking a letter, and the right
honourable privilege of not paying a tradesman's bill.

_Sid_. Well, but, dear Charles, you are not to wed my lord,--but his
daughter.

_Eger_. Who is as disagreeable to me for a companion, as her father for a
friend, or an ally.

_Sid_. What--her Scotch accent, I suppose, offends you?

_Eger_. No, upon my honour--not in the least,--I think it entertaining in
her;--but were it otherwise--in decency--and indeed in national affection
(being a Scotchman myself), I can have no objection to her on that
account,--besides, she is my near relation.

_Sid_. So I understand. But pray, Charles, how came Lady Rodolpha, who, I
find, was born in England, to be bred in Scotland?

_Eger_. From the dotage of an old, formal, obstinate, stiff, rich, Scotch
grandmother, who, upon a promise of leaving this grandchild all her
fortune, would have the girl sent to her to Scotland, when she was but a
year old, and there has she been ever since, bred up with this old lady in
all the vanity and unlimited indulgence that fondness and admiration could
bestow on a spoiled child--a fancied beauty and a pretended wit.

_Sid_. O! you are too severe upon her.

_Eger_. I do not think so, Sidney; for she seems a being expressly
fashioned by nature to figure in these days of levity and dissipation:--
her spirits are inexhaustible: her parts strong and lively; with a
sagacity that discerns, and a talent not unhappy in painting out the weak
side of whatever comes before her:--but what raises her merit to the
highest pitch in the laughing world is her boundless vanity and spirits in
the exertion of those talents, which often render her much more ridiculous
than the most whimsical of the characters she exposes--[_in a tone of
friendly affection._] and is _this_ a woman fit to make _my_ happiness?--
_this_ the partner that Sidney would recommend to me for life?--to _you_,
who best know me, I appeal.

_Sid_. Why, Charles, it is a delicate point,--unfit for _me_ to
determine--besides, your father has set his heart upon the match.

_Eger_. [_Impatiently._] All that I know:--but still I ask and insist upon
your candid judgment,--is she the kind of woman that you think could
possibly contribute to my happiness? I beg you will give me an explicit
answer.

_Sid_. The subject is disagreeable;--but, since I must speak,--I do not
think she is.

_Eger_. [_a start of friendly rapture._] I know you do not; and I am sure
you never will advise the match.

_Sid_. I never did. I never will.

_Eger_. [_With a start of joy._] You make me happy,--which I assure you I
never could be with your judgment against me in this point.

_Sid_. And yet, Charles, give me leave to observe, that Lady Rodolpha,
with all her ridiculous and laughing vanity, has a goodness of heart, and
a kind of vivacity that not only entertains,--but upon seeing her two or
three times, she improves upon you; and when her torrent of spirits
abates, and she condescends to converse gravely--you really like her.

_Eger_. Why ay! she is sprightly, good humoured, and, though whimsical,
and often too high in her colouring of characters, and in the trifling
business of the idle world,--yet I think she has principles, and a good
heart,--[_with a glow of conjugal tenderness._] but in a partner for life,
Sidney, (you know your own precept, and your own judgment)--affection,
capricious in its nature, must have something even in the external
manners,--nay in the very mode, not only of beauty, but of virtue itself--
which both heart and judgment must approve, or our happiness in that
delicate point cannot be lasting.

_Sid_. I grant it.

_Eger_. And that mode,--that amiable essential I never can meet--but in
Constantia. You sigh.

_Sid_. No. I only wish that Constantia had a fortune equal to yours. But
pray, Charles, suppose I had been so indiscreet as to have agreed to marry
you to Constantia--would _she_ have consented, think you?

_Eger_. That I cannot say positively,--but I suppose so.

_Sid_. Did you never speak to her upon that subject then?

_Eger_. In general terms only;--never directly requested her consent in
form,--[_he starts into a warmth of amorous resolution._] but I will this
very moment--for I have no asylum from my father's arbitrary design, but
my Constantia's arms.--Pray do not stir from hence:--I will return
instantly. I know she will submit to your advice--and I am sure you will
persuade her to my wish, as my life, my peace, my earthly happiness,
depend on my Constantia. [_Exit._

_Sid_. Poor Charles! he little dreams that I love Constantia too,--but
to what degree I knew not myself, till he importuned me to join their
hands.--Yes--I love--but must not be a rival; for he is dear to me as
fraternal affinity:--my benefactor--my friend--and that name is sacred:--
it is our better self; and ever ought to be preferred;--for the man who
gratifies his passions at the expence of his friend's happiness, wants but
a head to contrive--for he has a heart capable of the blackest vice.

    _Enter_ BETTY, _running up to_ Sidney.

_Bet_. I beg pardon for my intrusion, sir. I hope, sir, I do not disturb
your reverence!

_Sid_. Not in the least, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. I humbly beg you will excuse me, sir:--but I wanted to break my
mind to your honour--about a scruple that lies upon my conscience:--and
indeed I should not have presumed to trouble you, sir, but that I know you
are my young master's friend,--and my old master's friend,--and indeed--a
friend to the whole family: [_runs up to him and curtsies very low._] for
to give you your due, sir, you are as good a preacher as ever went into a
pulpit.

_Sid_. Ha, ha, ha! do you think so, Mrs. Betty?

_Bet_. Ay, in truth do I; and as good a gentleman too as ever came into a
family, and one that never gives a servant a bad word, nor that does any
one an ill turn neither behind their back, nor before their face.

_Sid_. Ha, ha, ha! why you are a mighty well spoken woman, Mrs. Betty, and
I am mightily beholden to you for your good character of me.

_Bet_. Indeed, sir, it is no more than you deserve, and what all the world
and all the servants say of you.

_Sid_. I am much obliged to them, Mrs. Betty.--But pray what are your
commands with me?

_Bet_. Why, I'll tell you, sir:--to be sure I am but a servant, as a body
may say--and every tub should stand upon its own bottom;--but--[_she takes
hold of him familiarly, looks first about cautiously, and speaks in a
low familiar tone of great secrecy._] my young master is now in the china
room in close conference with Miss Constantia;--I know what they are
about--but that is no business of mine--and therefore I made bold to
listen a little--because you know, sir, one would be sure--before one took
away any body's reputation.

_Sid_. Very true, Mrs. Betty,--very true indeed.

_Bet_. O! heavens forbid that I should take away any young woman's good
name--unless I had a good reason for it; but, sir, [_with great
solemnity._] if I am in this place alive, as I listened, with my ear close
to the door,--I heard my young master ask Miss Constantia the plain
marriage question--upon which I started--and trembled--nay my very
conscience stirred within me so,--that I could not help peeping through
the key-hole.

_Sid_. Ha, ha, ha! and so your conscience made you peep through the
key-hole, Mrs. Betty?

_Bet_. It did indeed, sir:--and there I saw my young master upon his
knees--lord bless us--and what do you think he was doing?--kissing her
hand as if he would eat it--and protesting--and assuring her--he knew that
you, sir, would consent to the match--and then the tears ran down her
cheeks as fast--

_Sid._ Ay!

_Bet._ They did indeed. I would not tell your reverence a lie for the
world.

_Sid_. I believe it, Mrs. Betty--and what did Constantia say to all this?

_Bet_. O!--O! she is sly enough; she looks as if butter would not melt in
her mouth; but all is not gold that glitters; smooth water, you know, sir,
runs deepest:--I am sorry my young master makes such a fool of himself--
but--um!--take my word for it, he is not the man,--for though she looks as
modest as a maid at a christening--[_hesitating._] yet--ah!--when
sweethearts meet--in the dusk of the evening--and stay together a whole
hour--in the dark grove--and embrace--and kiss--and weep at parting,--why
then you know, sir, it is easy to guess all the rest.

_Sid._ Why did Constantia meet any body in this manner?

_Bet._ [_Starting with surprise_.] O! heavens!--I beg, sir, you will not
misapprehend me; for I assure you I do not believe they did any harm--that
is, not in the grove--at least, not when I was there;--and she may be
honestly married for aught I know.--O! lud! sir,--I would not say an ill
thing of Miss Constantia for the world,--for to be sure she is a good
creature:--'tis true, my lady took her in for charity, and indeed has bred
her up to the music and figures;--ay, and reading all the books about
Homer--and Paradise--and Gods and Devils,--and every thing in the world,--
as if she had been a dutchess: but some people are born with luck in their
mouths, and then--as the saying is--you may throw them into the sea--
[_deports herself most affedtedly._] but--if I had had dancing masters--
and music masters--and French Mounseers to teach me--I believe I might
have read the globes, and the maps,--and have danced,--and have been as
clever as other folks.

_Sid._ Ha, ha, ha! no doubt on it, Mrs. Betty;--but you mentioned
something of a dark walk,--kissing,--a sweetheart and Constantia.

_Bet._ [_Starts into a cautious hypocrisy_.] O! lud! sir--I don't know any
thing of the matter: she may be very honest for aught I know: I only say,
that they did meet in the dark walk,--and all the servants observe that
Miss Constantia wears her stays very loose--looks very pale--is sick in a
morning, and after dinner: and, as sure as my name is Betty Hint,
something has happened that I won't name,--but--nine months hence--a
certain person in this family may ask me to stand godmother, for I think I
know what's what, when I see it as well as another.

_Sid_. No doubt you do, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. [_Cries, turns up her eyes, and acts a most friendly hypocrisy_.] I
do, indeed, sir. I am very sorry for Miss Constantia. I never thought she
would have taken such courses--for in truth I love her as if she was my
own sister; and though all the servants say that she is breeding--yet, for
my part, I don't believe it; but--one must speak according to one's
conscience, you know, sir.

_Sid_. O! I see you do.

_Bet_. [_Going and returning_.] I do indeed, sir: and so your servant,
sir--but--I hope your worship won't mention my name in this business;--or
that you had any _item_ from me.

_Sid_. I shall not, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. For, indeed, sir, I am no busybody, nor do I love fending nor
proving; and, I assure you, sir, I hate all tittling and tattling, and
gossiping and backbiting, and taking away a person's good name.

_Sid_. I observe you do, Mrs. Betty.

_Set_. I do indeed, sir. I am the farthest from it in the world.

_Sid_. I dare say you are.

_Bet_. I am indeed, sir, and so your humble servant.

_Sid_. Your servant, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. [_Aside, in great exultation_.] So! I see he believes every word I
say,--that's charming. I'll do her business for her I am resolved.
[_Exit._

_Sid_. What can this ridiculous creature mean by her dark walk,--her
private spark, her kissing, and all her slanderous insinuations against
Constantia, whose conduct is as unblamable as innocence itself? I see envy
is as malignant in a paltry waiting wench, as in the vainest or most
ambitious lady of the court.--It is always an infallible mark of the
basest nature; and merit in the lowest, as well as in the highest station,
must feel the shaft of envy's constant agents--falsehood and slander.

    _Enter_ SAM.

_Sam_. Sir, Mr. Egerton and Miss Constantia desire to speak with you in
the china room.

_Sid_. Very well, Sam. [_Exit_ Sam.] I will not see them.--What is to be
done? inform his father of his intended marriage,--no--that must not be;--
for the overbearing nature and ambitious policy of Sir Pertinax would
exceed all bounds of moderation; for he is of a sharp, shrewd, unforgiving
nature.--He has banished one son already, only for daring to differ from
his judgment concerning the merits of a Scotch and an English historian.--
But this young man must not marry Constantia.--Would his mother were here!
She, I suppose, knows nothing of his indiscretion:--but she shall, the
moment she comes hither. I know it will offend him; no matter: it is our
duty to offend,--when that offence saves the man we love from a
precipitate action, which the world must condemn, and his own heart,
perhaps, upon reflection, for ever repent: yes,--I must discharge the duty
of my function, and of a friend,--though I am sure to lose the man, whom I
intend to serve.    [_Exit._


END OF THE FIRST ACT.



_ACT II. SCENE I_.


    _Enter_ CONSTANTIA _and_ EGERTON.


_Con_. Mr. Sidney is not here, sir.

_Eger_. I assure you I left him, and begged he would stay till I returned.

_Con_. His prudence, you see, sir, has made him retire; therefore we had
better defer the subject till he is present; in the mean time, sir, I hope
you will permit me to mention an affair that has greatly alarmed and
perplexed me: I suppose you guess what it is.

_Eger_. I do not, upon my word.

_Con_. That is a little strange.--You know, sir, that you and Mr. Sidney
did me the honour of breakfasting with me this morning in my little study.

_Eger_. We had that happiness, madam.

_Con_. Just after you left me, upon opening my book of accompts, which lay
in the drawer of the reading desk, to my great surprise, I there found
this case of jewels, containing a most elegant pair of ear-rings, a
necklace of great value, and two bank bills in this pocket book, the
mystery of which, sir, I presume you can explain.

_Eger_. I can.

_Con_. They were of your conveying then?

_Eger_. They were, madam.

_Con_. I assure you they startled and alarmed me.

_Eger_. I hope it was a kind alarm;--such as blushing virtue feels, when,
with her hand, she gives her heart and last consent.

_Con_. It was not indeed, sir.

_Eger_. Do not say so, Constantia: come--be kind at once;--my peace and
worldly bliss depend upon this moment.

_Con_. What would you have me do?

_Eger_. What love and virtue dictate.

_Con_. O! sir, experience but too severely proves, that such unequal
matches as ours, never produce aught but contempt and anger in parents,
censure from the world, and a long train of sorrow and repentance in the
wretched parties,--which is but too often entailed upon their hapless
issue.

_Eger_. But that, Constantia, can not be our case: my fortune is
independent and ample,--equal to luxury and splendid folly. I have a right
to choose the partner of my heart,

_Con_. But I have not, sir.--I am a dependant on my lady,--a poor,
forsaken, helpless orphan--your benevolent mother found me--took me to her
bosom--and there supplied my parental loss--with every tender care--
indulgent dalliance, and with all the sweet persuasion that maternal
fondness, religious precept, polished manners, and hourly example could
administer--she fostered me: [_weeps._] and shall I now turn viper,--and
with black ingratitude sting the tender heart that thus hath cherished me?
shall I seduce her house's heir, and kill her peace?--No--though I loved
to the mad extreme of female fondness; though every worldly bliss that
woman's vanity or man's ambition could desire, followed the indulgence of
my love--and all the contempt and misery of this life, the denial of that
indulgence--I would discharge my duty to my benefactress--my earthly
guardian, my more than parent.

_Eger_. My dear Constantia, your prudence, your gratitude, and the cruel
virtue of your self-denial, do but increase my love, my admiration, and my
misery.

_Con_. Sir, I must beg you will give me leave to return these bills and
jewels.

_Eger_. Pray do not mention them:--sure my kindness and esteem may be
indulged so far without suspicion or reproach.--I beg you will accept of
them,--nay--I insist.

_Con_. I have done, sir: my station here is to obey.--I know, sir, they
are gifts of a virtuous mind--and mine shall convert them to the
tenderest, and most grateful use.

_Eger_. Hark! I hear a coach:--it is my father.--Dear girl, retire and
compose yourself.--I will send Sidney and my lady to you, and by their
judgment we will be directed: will that satisfy you?

_Con_. I can have no will but my lady's.--With your leave I will retire; I
would not see her in this confusion.

_Eger_. Dear girl, adieu! and think of love, of happiness, and the man who
never can be blest without you.    [_Exit_ Constantia.

    _Enter_ SAM.

_Sam_. Sir Pertinax and my lady are come, sir,--and my lady desires to
speak with you in her own room:--oh! here she is, sir.    [_Exit._

    _Enter Lady_ MACSYCOPHANT.

_Lady Mac_. [_In great confusion and distress._] Dear child, I am glad to
see you: why did you not come to town yesterday to attend the levee? your
father is incensed to the uttermost at your not being there.

_Eger_. [_With great warmth._] Madam, it is with extreme regret I tell
you, that I can no longer be a slave to his temper, his politics, and his
scheme of marrying me to this woman,--therefore you had better consent at
once to my going out of the kingdom, and my taking Constantia with me, for
without her I never can be happy.

_Lady Mac_. As you regard my peace, or your own character, I beg you will
not be guilty of so rash a step.--You promised me you never would marry
her without my consent.--I will open it to your father.--Pray, dear
Charles, be ruled:--let me prevail.

    _Sir_ PERTINAX. [_Without, in great anger._]

_Sir Per_. Sir, wull ye do as ye are bid--and haud your gab, you rascal.--
You are so full of gab, you scoundrel.--Take the chesnut gelding, I say,
and return to town directly, and see what is become of my Lord
Lumbercourt.

_Lady Mac_. Here he comes.--I will get out of his way.--But I beg,
Charles, while he is in this ill humour that you will not oppose him, let
him say what he will--when his passion is a little cool, I will return,
and try to bring him to reason: but do not thwart him.

_Eger_. Madam, I will not.    [_Exit_ Lady Mac.

_Sir Per_. [_Witbout._] Here, you Tomlins, where is my son Egerton?

_Tom_. [_Without._] In the library, sir.

_Sir Per_. [_Without._] As soon as the lawyers come, be sure bring me
word, [_Enters with great haughtiness, and in anger_. EGERTON _bows two or
three times most submissively low._] Weel, sir!--vary weel!--vary weel!--
are nat ye a fine spark? are nat ye a fine spark, I say?--ah! you are a--
so you wou'd not come up till the levee?

_Eger_. Sir, I beg your pardon--but--I was not very well; besides I
did not think my presence there was necessary.

_Sir Per_. [_Snapping him up._] Sir, it was necessary--I tauld you it was
necessary--and, sir, I must now tell you, that the whole tenor of your
conduct is most offensive.

_Eger_. I am sorry you think so, sir; I am sure I do not intend to offend
you.

_Sir Per_. I care not what you intend.--Sir, I tell you, you do offend.
What is the meaning of this conduct, sir? neglect the levee!--'sdeath,
sir, you--what is your reason, I say, for thus neglecting the levee, and
disobeying my commands?

_Eger_. [_With a stifled, filial resentment._] Sir, I am not used to
levees: nor do I know how to dispose of myself,--nor what to say, or do,
in such a situation.

_Sir Per_. [_With a proud, angry resentment._] Zounds! sir, do you nat see
what others do? gentle and simple,--temporal and spiritual,--lords,
members, judges, generals, and bishops,--aw crowding, bustling, and
pushing foremost intill the middle of the circle, and there waiting,
watching, and striving to catch a look or a smile fra the great mon,--
which they meet--wi' an amicable reesibility of aspect--a modest cadence
of body, and a conciliating co-operation of the whole mon,--which
expresses an officious promptitude for his service--and indicates, that
they luock upon themselves as the suppliant appendages of his power, and
the enlisted Swiss of his poleetical fortune;--this, sir, is what you
ought to do,--and this, sir, is what I never once omitted for these five
and thraty years,--let who would be minister.

_Eger_. [_Aside._] Contemptible!

_Sir Per_. What is that you mutter, sir?

_Eger_. Only a slight reflection, sir, not relative to you.

_Sir Per_. Sir, your absenting yourself fra the levee at this juncture is
suspeecious; it is looked upon as a kind of disaffection,--and aw your
countrymen are highly offended at your conduct,----for, sir, they do not
look upon you as a friend or a well-wisher either to Scotland or
Scotchmen.

_Eger_. [_With a quick warmth._] Then, sir, they wrong me, I assure you,--
but pray, sir, in what particular can I be charged--either with coldness
or offence to my country?

_Sir Per_. Why, sir, ever since your mother's uncle, Sir Stanly Egerton,
left you this three thousand pounds a year, and that you have, in
compliance with his will, taken up the name of Egerton, they think you are
grown proud;--that you have estranged yourself fra the Macsycophants--have
associated with your mother's family--with the opposeetion, and with those
who do not wish well till Scotland;----besides, sir, the other day, in a
conversation at dinner at your cousin Campbel M'Kenzie's, before a whole
table-full of your ain relations, did not you publicly wish a total
extinguishment of aw party, and of aw national distinctions whatever,
relative to the three kingdoms?--[_With great anger._] And you blockhead--
was that a prudent wish before so many of your ain countrymen?--or was it
a filial language to hold before me?

_Eger_. Sir, with your pardon, I cannot think it unfilial or imprudent.
[_With a most patriotic warmth._] I own I do wish--most ardently wish for
a total extinction of all party: particularly--that those of English,
Irish, and Scotch might never more be brought into contest or competition,
unless, like loving brothers, in generous emulation, for one common cause.

_Sir Per_. How, sir! do you persist? what!--would you banish aw party, and
aw distinction between English, Irish, and your ain countrymen?

_Eger_. [_With great dignity of spirit._] I would, sir.

_Sir Per_. Then damn you, sir,--you are nai true Scot.--Ay, sir, you may
look as angry as you will,--but again I say--you are nai true Scot.

_Eger_. Your pardon, sir, I think he is the true Scot, and the true
citizen, who wishes equal justice to the merit and demerit of every
subject of Great Britain; amongst whom I know but of two distinctions.

_Sir Per_. Weel sir, and what are those? what are those?

_Eger_. The knave and the honest man.

_Sir Per_. Pshaw! rideeculous.

_Eger_. And he, who makes any other--let him be of the North, or of the
South--of the East, or of the West--in place, or out of place--is an enemy
to the whole, and to the virtues of humanity.

_Sir Per_. Ay, sir, this is your brother's impudent doctrine--for the
which, I have banished him for ever fra my presence, my heart, and my
fortune.--Sir, I will have no son of mine, because truly he has been
educated in an English seminary, presume, under the mask of candour, to
speak against his native land, or against my principles.

_Eger_. I never did--nor do I intend it.

_Sir Per_. Sir, I do not believe you--I do not believe you.--But, sir, I
know your connections and associates, and I know too, you have a saucy,
lurking prejudice against your ain country:--you hate it;--yes, your
mother, her family, and your brother, sir, have aw the same, dark,
disaffected rankling; and, by that and their politics together, they will
be the ruin of you--themselves--and of aw who connect with them.--However,
nai mair of that now;--I will talk at large to you about that anon.--In
the mean while, sir--notwithstanding your contempt of my advice, and your
disobedience till my commands, I will convince you of my paternal
attention till _your_ welfare, by my management of this voluptuary--this
Lord Lumbercourt,--whose daughter you are to marry. You ken, sir, that the
fellow has been my patron above these five and thraty years.,

_Eger_. True, sir.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel.--And now, sir, you see, by his prodigality, he is
become my dependent; and accordingly I have made my bargain with him:--the
devil a baubee he has in the world but what comes thro' these clutches--
for his whole estate, which has three implicit boroughs upon it,--mark--is
now in my custody at nurse;--the which estate, on my paying off his debts,
and allowing him a life rent of five thousand pounds per annum, is to be
made over till me for my life, and at my death is to descend till ye and
your issue.--The peerage of Lumbercourt, you ken, will follow of course.--
So, sir, you see there are three impleecit boroughs, the whole patrimony
of Lumbercourt, and a peerage at one slap.--Why it is a stroke--a hit--a
hit.----Zounds! sir, a mon may live a century and not make sic an a hit
again.

_Eger_. It is a very advantageous bargain indeed, sir:--but what will my
lord's family say to it?

_Sir Per_. Why, mon, he cares not if his family were aw at the devil so
his luxury is but gratified:--only let him have his race-horse to feed his
vanity--his harridan to drink drams with him, scrat his face, and burn his
periwig, when she is in her maudlin hysterics,--and three or four
discontented patriotic dependents to abuse the ministry, and settle the
affairs of the nation, when they are aw intoxicated; and then, sir,:--the
fellow has aw his wishes, and aw his wants--in this world--and the next.

    _Enter_ TOMLINS.

_Tom_. Lady Rodolpha is come, sir.

_Sir Per_. And my lord?

_Tom_. Not yet, sir,--he is about a mile behind, the servants say.

_Sir Per_. Let me know the instant he arrives.

_Tom_. I shall, sir.    [_Exit._

_Sir Per_. Step you out, Charles, and receive Lady Rodolpha;--and, I
desire you will treat her with as much respect and gallantry as possible;
for my lord has hinted that you have been very remiss as a lover.--So go,
go and receive her.

_Eger_. I shall, sir.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel,--vary weel;--a guid lad: go--go and receive her as a
lover should. [_Exit_ Egerton.] Hah! I must keep a devilish tight hand
upon this fallow, I see,--or he will be touched with the patriotic frenzy
of the times, and run counter till aw my designs.--I find he has a strong
inclination to have a judgment of his ain, independent of mine, in aw
political matters;--but as soon as I have finally settled the marriage
writings with my lord, I will have a thorough expostulation with my
gentleman, I am resolved,--and fix him unalterably in his political
conduct.--Ah!--I am frighted out of my wits, lest his mother's family
should seduce him to desert to their party, which would totally ruin my
whole scheme, and break my heart.--A fine time of day for a blockhead to
turn patriot;--when the character is exploded--marked--proscribed;--why
the common people--the vary vulgar--have found out the jest, and laugh at
a patriot now-a-days,---just as they do at a conjurer,--a magician,--or
any other impostor in society.--

    _Enter_ TOMLINS, _and Lord_ LUMBERCOURT.

_Tom_. Lord Lumbercourt.

_Lord Lum_. Sir Pertinax, I kiss your hand.

_Sir Per_. Your lordship's most devoted.

_Lord Lum_. Why, you stole a march upon me this morning;--gave me the
slip, Mac;--tho' I never wanted your assistance more in my life.--I
thought you would have called on me.

_Sir Per_. My dear lord, I beg ten millions of pardons for leaving town
before you; but you ken that your lordship at dinner yesterday settled it
that we should meet this morning at the levee.

_Lord Lum_. That I acknowledge, Mac.--I did promise to be there, I own.

_Sir Per_. You did, indeed.--And accordingly I was at the levee and waited
there till every soul was gone, and, seeing you did not come, I concluded
that your lordship was gone before.

_Lord Lum_. Why, to confess the truth, my dear Mac, those old sinners,
Lord Freakish, General Jolly, Sir Antony Soaker, and two or three more of
that set, laid hold of me last night at the opera,--and, as the General
says, 'from the intelligence of my head this morning,' I believe we drank
pretty deep ere we departed; ha, ha, ha!

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! nay, if you were with that party, my lord, I do not
wonder at not seeing your lordship at the levee,

_Lord Lum_. The truth is, Sir Pertinax, my fellow let me sleep too long
for the levee.--But I wish I had seen you before you left town--I wanted
you dreadfully.

_Sir Per_. I am heartily sorry that I was not in the way:--but on what
account did you want me?

_Lord Lum_. Ha, ha, ha! a cursed awkward affair.--And, ha, ha, ha! yet I
cann't help laughing at it neither--tho' it vext me confoundedly.

_Sir Per_. Vext you, my lord! Zounds, I wish I had been with you:--but,
for heaven's sake, my lord,--what was it, that could possibly vex your
lordship?

_Lord Lum_. Why, that impudent, teasing, dunning rascal, Mahogany, my
upholsterer.--You know the fellow?

_Sir Per_. Perfectly, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. The impudent scoundrel has sued me up to some damned kind of
a--something or other in the law, that I think they call an execution.

_Sir Per_. The rascal!

_Lord Lum_. Upon which, sir, the fellow, by way of asking pardon--ha, ha,
ha! had the modesty to wait on me two or three days ago, to inform my
honour--ha, ha, ha! as he was pleased to dignify me,--that the execution
was now ready to be put in force against my honour;--but that out of
respect to my honour--as he had taken a great deal of my honour's money--
he would not suffer his lawyer to serve it, till he had first informed my
honour, because he was not willing to affront my honour; ha, ha, ha! a son
of a whore!

_SirPer_. I never heard of so impudent a dog.

_Lord Lum_. Now, my dear Mac,--ha, ha, ha! as the scoundrel's apology was
so very satisfactory, and his information so very agreeable--I told him
that, in honour, I thought that my honour cou'd not do less than to order
his honour to be paid immediately.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel--vary weel,--you were as complaisant as the scoundrel
till the full, I think, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. You shall hear,--you shall hear, Mac:--so, sir, with great
composure, seeing a smart oaken cudgel that stood very handily in a corner
of my dressing room, I ordered two of my fellows to hold the rascal, and
another to take the cudgel and return the scoundrel's civility with a good
drubbing as long as the stick lasted.

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha!--admirable!--as guid a stroke of humour as ever I
heard of.--And did they drub him, my lord?

_Lord Lum_. Most liberally--most liberally, sir.--And there I thought
the affair would have rested, till I should think proper to pay the
soundrel,--but this morning, just as I was stepping into my chaise, my
servants all about me, a fellow, called a tipstaff, slept up and begged
the favour of my footman, who threshed the upholsterer, and of the two
that held him, to go along with him upon a little business to my Lord
Chief Justice.

_Sir Per_. The devil!

_Lord Lum_. And at the same instant, I, in my turn, was accosted by two
other very civil scoundrels, who, with a most insolent politeness, begged
my pardon, and informed me that I must not go into my own chaise.

_Sir Per_. How, my lord?--not into your ain carriage?

_Lord Lum_. No, sir: for that they, by order of the sheriff, must seize
it, at the suit of a gentleman--one Mr. Mahogany, an upholsterer.

_Sir Per_. An impudent villain!

_Lord Lum_. It is all true, I assure you; so you see, my dear Mac, what a
damned country this is to live in, where noblemen are obliged to pay their
debts, just like merchants, coblers, peasants, or mechanics--is not that a
scandal, dear Mac. to the nation?

_Sir Per_. My lord, it is not only a scandal, but a national grievance.

_Lord Lum_. Sir, there is not another nation in the world has such a
grievance to complain of. Now in other countries were a mechanic to dun,
and tease, and behave as this Mahogany has done,--a nobleman might
extinguish the reptile in an instant; and that only at the expence of a
few sequins, florins, or louis d'ors, according to the country where the
affair happened.

_Sir Per_. Vary true, my lord, vary true--and it is monstrous that a mon
of your lordship's condition is not entitled to run one of these mechanics
through the body, when he is impertinent about his money; but our laws
shamefully, on these occasions, make no distinction of persons amongst us.

_Lord Lum_. A vile policy indeed, Sir Pertinax.--But, sir, the scoundrel
has seized upon the house too, that I furnished for the girl I took from
the opera.

_Sir Per_. I never heard of sic an a scoundrel.

_Lord Lum_. Ay, but what concerns me most,--I am afraid, my dear Mac, that
the villain will send down to Newmarket, and seize my string of horses.

_Sir Per_. Your string of horses? zounds! we must prevent that at all
events:--that would be sic an a disgrace. I will dispatch an express to
town directly to put a stop till the rascal's proceedings.

_LordLum._ Pr'ythee do, my dear Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per._ O! it shall be done, my lord.

_Lord Lum._ Thou art an honest fellow, Sir Pertinax, upon honour.

_Sir Per._ O! my lord, it is my duty to oblige your lordship to the utmost
stretch of my abeelity.

    _Enter_ TOMLINS.

_Tom._ Colonel Toper presents his compliments to you, sir, and having no
family down with him in the country, he and Captain Hardbottle, if not
inconvenient, will do themselves the honour of taking a family dinner with
you.

_Sir Per._ They are two of our militia officers--does your lordship know
them?

_LordLum._ By sight only.

_Sir Per._ I am afraid, my lord, they will interrupt our business.

_Lord Lum._ Not at all: I should be glad to be acquainted with Toper; they
say he's a damned jolly fellow.

_Sir Per._ O! devilish jolly--devilish jolly: he and the captain are the
two hardest drinkers in the county.

_Lord Lum._ So I have heard; let us have them by all means, Mac: they will
enliven the scene. How far are they from you?

_Sir Per._ Just across the meadows--not half a mile, my lord: a step, a
step.

_LordLum._ O! let us have the jolly dogs, by all means.

_Sir Per._ My compliments--I shall be proud of their company.
[_Exit_ Tom.] Guif ye please, my lord, we will gang and chat a bit with
the women: I have not seen Lady Rodolpha since she returned fra the Bath.
I long to have a little news from her about the company there.

_Lord Lum._ O! she'll give you an account of them, I warrant you.
                                       [_A very loud laugh without_.

_Lady Rodolpha._ [_Without._] Ha, ha, ha! weel I vow, cousin Egerton, you
have a vast deal of shrewd humour.--But Lady Macsycophant, which way is
Sir Pertinax?

_Lady Mac._ [Without._] Strait forward, madam.

_Lord Lum_. Here the hairbrain comes: it must be her, by the noise,

_Lady Rod_. [_Without._] Allons--gude folks--follow me--sans cérémonie.

    _Enter Lady_ RODOLPHA, _Lady_ MACSYCOPHANT, EGERTON, _and_ SIDNEY.

_Lady Rod_. [_Running up to Sir_ Per.] Sir Pertinax, your most devoted,
most obsequious, and most obedient vassal. [_Curtsies very low_.

_Sir Per_. [_Bowing ridiculously low._] Lady Rodolpha, down till the
ground, my congratulations and duty attend you, and I should rejoice to
kiss your ladyship's footsteps.

_Lady Rod_. [_Curtsying very low._] O! Sir Pertinax, your humeelity is
most sublimely complaisant:--at present, unanswerable;--but I shall
intensely study to return it--fyfty fald.

_Sir Per_. Your ladyship does me singular honour:--weel, madam--ha! you
look gaily;--weel, and how--how is your ladyship, after your jaunt till
the Bath?

_Lady Rod_. Never better, Sir Pertinax:--as weel as youth, health, riotous
spirits, and a careless happy heart can make me.

_Sir Per_. I am mighty glad till hear it, my lady.

_Lord Lum_. Ay, ay--Rodolpha is always in spirits, Sir Pertinax.--Vive la
Bagatelle is the philosophy of our family,--ha? Rodolpha--ha?

_Lady Rod_. Traith it is, my lord; and upon honour I am determined it
shall never be changed with my consent. Weel I vow--ha, ha, ha! Vive la
Bagatelle would be a most brilliant motto for the chariot of a belle of
fashion. What say you till my fancy, Lady Macsycophant.

_Lady Mac_. It would have novelty at least to recommend it, madam.

_Lady Rod_. Which of aw charms is the most delightful that can accompany
wit, taste, love, or friendship;--for novelty I take to be the true _Je ne
scais quoi_ of all worldly bliss. Cousin Egerton, shou'd not you like to
have a wife with Vive la Bagatelle upon her wedding chariot?

_Eger_. O! certainly, madam.

_Lady Rod_. Yes, I think it would be quite out of the common, and
singularly ailegant.

_Eger_. Indisputably, madam:--for as a motto is a word to the wise, or
rather a broad hint to the whole world of a person's taste and
principles,--Vive la Bagatelle would be most expressive at first sight of
your ladyship's characteristic.

_Lady Rod_. [_Curtsies._] O! Maister Egerton, you touch my vary heart with
your approbation--ha, ha, ha! that is the vary spirit of my intention, the
instant I commence bride.--Weel! I am immensely proud that my fancy has
the approbation of so sound an understanding, and so polished a taste as
that of the all-accomplished [_Curtsies very low._] Mr. Egerton.

_Sir Per_. Weel,--but Lady Rodolpha--I wanted to ask your ladyship some
questions about the company at the Bath;--they say you had aw the world
there.

_Lady Rod_. O, yes!--there was a vary great mob there indeed;--but vary
little company.--Aw Canaille,--except our ain party.--The place was
crowded with your little purse-proud mechanics;--an odd kind of queer
looking animals that have started intill fortune fra lottery tickets, rich
prizes at sea, gambling in Change-Alley, and sic like caprices of
fortune;--and away they aw crowd to the Bath to learn genteelity, and the
names, titles, intrigues, and bon-mots of us people of fashion; ha, ha,
ha!

_Lord Lum_. Ha, ha, ha! I know them;--I know the things you mean, my dear,
extremely well.--I have observed them a thousand times, and wondered where
the devil they all came from; ha, ha, ha!

_Lady Mac_. Pray, Lady Rodolpha, what were your diversions at Bath?

_Lady Rod_. Guid traith, my lady, the company were my diversion,--and
better na human follies ever afforded; ha, ha, ha! sic an a mixture--and
sic oddities, ha, ha, ha!--a perfect Gallimaufry.--Lady Kunegunda M'Kenzie
and I used to gang about till every part of this human chaos, on purpose
to reconnoitre the monsters and pick up their frivolities; ha, ha, ha!

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! why that must have been a high entertainment till
your ladyship.

_Lady Rod_. Superlative and inexhaustible, Sir Pertinax; ha, ha, ha!--
Madam, we had in one group--a peer and a sharper,--a dutchess and a
pinmaker's wife,--a boarding school miss and her grandmother,--a fat
parson, a lean general, and a yellow admiral,--ha, ha, ha!--aw speaking
together--and bawling and wrangling in fierce contention, as if the fame
and fortune of aw the parties were to be the issue of the conflict.

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! pray, madam, what was the object of their
contention?

_Lady Rod_. O! a vary important one, I assure you;--of no less
consequence, madam, than how an odd trick at whist was lost, or might have
been saved.

_Omnes_. Ha, ha, ha!

_Lady Mac_. Ridiculous!

_Lord Lum_. Ha, ha, ha! my dear Rodolpha, I have seen that very conflict a
thousand times.

_Sir Per_. And so have I, upon honour, my lord.

_Lady Rod_. In another party, Sir Pertinax--ha, ha, ha! we had what
was called the cabinet council, which was composed of a duke and a
haberdasher,--a red hot patriot and a sneering courtier,--a discarded
statesman and his scribbling chaplain,--with a busy, bawling,
muckle-headed, prerogative lawyer;--all of whom were every minute ready to
gang together by the lugs, about the in and the out meenistry--ha, ha, ha!

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! weel, that is a droll motley cabinet, I vow.--Vary
whimsical upon honour.--But they are aw great politicians at Bath, and
settle a meenistry there with as much ease as they do the tune of a
country dance.

_Lady Rod_. Then, Sir Pertinax, in a retired part of the room--in a bye
corner--snug--we had a Jew and a bishop--

_Sir Per_. A Jew and a bishop!--ha--ha--a devilish guid connection that;--
and pray, my lady, what were they about?

_Lady Rod_. Why, sir, the bishop--was striving to convert the Jew,--while
the Jew--by intervals--was slily picking up intelligence fra the bishop
about the change in the meenistry, in hopes of making a stroke in the
stock.

_Omnes_. Ha, ha, ha!

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! admirable! admirable! I honour the smouse:--hah! it
was develish clever of him, my lord,--develish clever.

_Lord Lum_. Yes, yes--the fellow kept a sharp look-out.--I think it was a
fair trial of skill on both sides, Mr. Egerton.

_Eger_. True, my lord;--but the Jew seems to have been in the fairer way
to succeed.

_Lord Lum_. O! all to nothing, sir; ha, ha, ha!--Well, child, I like your
Jew and your bishop much.--It's develish clever.--Let us have the rest of
the history, pray, my dear.

_Lady Rod_. Guid traith, my lord, the sum total is--that there we aw
danced, and wrangled, and flattered, and slandered, and gambled, and
cheated, and mingled, and jumbled, and wolloped together--clean and
unclean--even like the animal assembly in Noah's ark.

_Omnes_. Ha, ha, ha!

_Lord Lum_. Ha, ha, ha!--Well, you are a droll girl, Rodolpha,--and, upon
my honour, ha, ha, ha!--you have given us as whimsical a sketch as ever
was hit off.

_Sir Per_. Ah! yas, my lord, especially the animal assembly in Noah's
ark.--It is an excellent picture of the oddities that one meets with at
the Bath.

_Lord Lum_. Why yes, there is some fancy in it, I think, Egerton?

_Eger_. Very characteristic indeed, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. What say you, Mr. Sidney?

_Sid_. Upon my word, my lord, the lady has made me see the whole assembly
in distinct colours.

_Lady Rod_. O! Maister Sidney, your approbation makes me as vain as a
reigning toast before her looking-glass.--"But, Lady Macsycophant, I
cannot help observing, that you have one uncka, unsalutary fashion here in
the South, at your routs, your assemblies, and aw your dancing bouts;--the
which I am astonished you do not relegate fra amongst ye.

"_Lady Mac_. Pray, madam, what may that be?

"_Lady Rod_. Why, your orgeats, capillaires, lemonades, and aw your slips
and slops, with which you drench your weimbs, when you are dancing.--Upon
honour, they always make a swish-swash in my bowels, and give me the
wooly-wambles.

"_Omnes_. Ha, ha, ha!

"_Lord Lum_. Ho, ho, ho!--you indelicate creature,--why, my dear
Rodolpha--ha, ha, ha! what are you talking about?

"_Lady Rod_. Weel, weel, my lord,--guin ye laugh till ye brust;--the fact
is still true.--Now in Edinburgh--in Edinburgh, my lady--we have nai sic
pinch-gut doings--for there, guid traith, we always have a guid
comfortable dish of cutlets or collops, or a nice, warm, savory haggiss,
with a guid swig of whiskey punch to recruit our spirits--after our
dancing and sweating.

"_Omnes_. Ha, ha, ha!

"_Sir Per_. Ay, and that is much wholesomer, Lady Rodolpha, than aw their
slips and their slops here in the south.

"_Lord Lum_. Ha, ha, ha! Well, my dear Rodolpha, you are a droll girl,
upon honour,--and very entertaining, I vow; [_He whispers_.]--but,
my dear child,--a little too much upon the dancing, and sweating, and the
wolly-wambles.

"_Omnes_. Ha, ha, ha!"


    _Enter_ TOMLINS.

_Tom_. Colonel Toper and Captain Hardbottle are come, sir.

_Sir Per_. O! vary weel.--Dinner directly.

_Tom_. It is ready, sir.    [_Exit._

_Sir Per_. My lord, we attend your lordship.

_Lord Lum_. Lady Mac, your ladyship's hand, if you please.
                                           [_Exit with Lady_ Macsycophant.

_Sir Per_. And here, Lady Rodolpha, is an Arcadian swain that has a
hand at your ladyship's devotion.

_Lady Rod_. [_Giving her hand to_ Egerton.] And I, sir, have one at his.--
There, sir:--as to hearts, ye ken, cousin, they are not brought into the
account of human dealings now-a-days.

_Eger_. O! madam, they are mere temporary baubles, especially in
courtship; and no more to be depended upon than the weather, or a lottery
ticket.

_Lady Rod_, Ha, ha, ha! twa excellent similes, I vow, Mr. Egerton.--
Excellent! for they illustrate the vagaries and inconstancy of my
dissipated heart as exactly as if you had meant to describe it.
    [_Exit with_ Eger.

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! what a vast fund of spirits and guid humour she
has, Maister Sidney.

_Sid_. A great fund indeed, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. Come, let us till dinner.--Hah! by this time to-morrow, Maister
Sidney, I hope we shall have every thing ready for you to put the last
hand till the happiness of your friend and pupil;--and then, sir--my cares
will be over for this life:--for as to my other son, I expect nai guid of
him, nor shou'd I grieve, were I to see him in his coffin.--But this
match,--O! it will make me the happiest of aw human beings.    [_Exeunt._


END OF THE SECOND ACT.



_ACT III. SCENE I._

    _Enter Sir_ PERTINAX _and_ EGERTON.


_Sir Per_. [_In warm resentment._] Zoons! sir, I wull not hear a word
about it:--I insist upon it you are wrong:--you shou'd have paid your
court till my lord, and not have scrupled swallowing a bumper or twa, or
twenty, till oblige him.

_Eger_. Sir, I did drink his toast in a bumper.

_Sir Per_. Yes--you did;--but how? how?--just as a bairn takes physic--
with aversions and wry faces, which my lord observed: then, to mend the
matter, the moment that he and the colonel got intill a drunken dispute
about religion, you slily slunged away.

_Eger_. I thought, sir, it was time to go, when my lord insisted upon half
pint bumpers.

_Sir Per_. Sir, that was not levelled at you, but at the colonel, in order
to try his bottom; but they aw agreed that you and I should drink out of
smaw glasses.

_Eger_. But, sir, I beg pardon:--I did not choose to drink any more.

_Sir Per_. But zoons! sir, I tell you there was a necessity for your
drinking more.

_Eger_. A necessity! in what respect, pray, sir?

_Sir Per_. Why, sir, I have a certain point to carry, independent of the
lawyers, with my lord, in this agreement of your marriage--about which I
am afraid we shall have a warm squabble--and therefore I wanted your
assistance in it.

_Eger_. But how, sir, could my drinking contribute to assist you in your
squabble?

_Sir Per_. Yes, sir, it would have contributed--and greatly have
contributed to assist me.

_Eger_. How so, sir?

_Sir Per_. Nay, sir, it might have prevented the squabble entirely; for as
my lord is proud of you for a son-in-law, and is fond of your little
French songs, your stories, and your bon-mots, when you are in the
humour,--and guin you had but staid--and been a little jolly--and drank
half a score bumpers with him, till he got a little tipsy--I am sure, when
we had him in that mood, we might have settled the point as I could wish
it, among ourselves, before the lawyers came: but now, sir, I do not ken
what will be the consequence.

_Eger_. But when a man is intoxicated, would that have been a seasonable
time to settle business, sir?

_Sir Per_. The most seasonable, sir:--for, sir, when my lord is in his
cups--his suspicion is asleep--and his heart is aw jollity, fun, and guid
fellowship; and sir, can there be a happier moment than that for a
bargain, or to settle a dispute with a friend? What is it you shrug up
your shoulders at, sir?

_Eger_. At my own ignorance, sir;--for I understand neither the philosophy
nor the morality of your doctrine.

_Sir Per_. I know you do not, sir,--and, what is worse--you never wull,
understand it, as you proceed: in one word, Charles, I have often told
you, and now again I tell you, once for aw, that the manoeuvres of
pliability are as necessary to rise in the world, as wrangling and logical
subtlety are to rise at the bar: why you see, sir, I have acquired a noble
fortune, a princely fortune--and how do you think I raised it?

_Eger_. Doubtless, sir, by your abilities.

_Sir Per_. Doubtless, sir, you are a blockhead:--nai, sir, I'll tell you
how I raised it. Sir, I raised it--by bowing; [_Bows ridiculously low._]
by bowing: sir, I never could stand straight in the presence of a great
man, but always bowed, and bowed, and bowed--as it were by instinct.

_Eger_. How do you mean by instinct, sir?

_Sir Per_. How do I mean by instinct? why, sir, I mean by--by--by the
instinct of interest, sir, which is the universal instinct of mankind.
Sir, it is wonderful to think, what a cordial, what an amicable, nay, what
an infallible influence, bowing has upon the pride and vanity of human
nature. Charles, answer me sincerely, have you a mind to be convinced of
the force of my doctrine, by example and demonstration?

_Eger_. Certainly, sir.

_Sir Per_. Then, sir, as the greatest favour I can confer upon you, I'll
give you a short sketch of the stages of my bowing,--as an excitement, and
a landmark for you to bow be--and as an infallible nostrum to rise in the
world.

_Eger_. Sir, I shall be proud to profit by your experience.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel, sir: sit ye down then, sit you down here: _[They sit
down_.]--and now, sir, you must recall to your thoughts, that your
grandfather was a man, whose penurious income of half pay was the sum
total of his fortune;--and, sir, aw my provision fra him was a modicum of
Latin, an expertness in arithmetic, and a short system of worldly counsel;
the principal ingredients of which were, a persevering industry, a rigid
economy, a smooth tongue, a pliability of temper, and a constant attention
to make every man well pleased with himself.

_Eger_. Very prudent advice, sir.

_Sir Per_. Therefore, sir, I lay it before you.--Now, sir, with these
materials I set out a raw-boned stripling fra the north, to try my fortune
with them here in the south; and my first step intill the world was, a
beggarly clerkship in Sawney Gordon's counting house, here in the city of
London, which you'll say afforded but a barren sort of a prospect.

_Eger_. It was not a very fertile one indeed, sir.

_Sir Per_. The reverse, the reverse: weel, sir, seeing myself in this
unprofitable situation, I reflected deeply; I cast about my thoughts
morning, noon, and night, and markt every man and every mode of
prosperity,--at last I concluded that a matrimonial adventure, prudently
conducted, would be the readiest gait I could gang for the bettering of my
condition, and accordingly I set about it: now, sir, in this pursuit,
beauty! beauty!--ah! beauty often struck mine een, and played about my
heart! and fluttered, and beat, and knocked, and knocked, but the devil an
entrance I ever let it get;--for I observed, sir, that beauty--is
generally--a proud, vain, saucy, expensive, impertinent sort of a
commodity.

_Eger_. Very justly observed, sir.

_Sir Per_. And therefore, sir, I left it to prodigals and coxcombs, that
could afford to pay for it; and in its stead, sir, mark! I looked out for
an ancient, weel-jointured, superannuated dowager:--a consumptive,
toothless, ptisicky, wealthy widow,--or a shrivelled, cadaverous piece of
deformity in the shape of an izzard, or a appersi-and,--or, in short, ainy
thing, ainy thing that had the siller, the siller,--for that, sir, was the
north star of my affections. Do you take me, sir; was nai that right?

_Eger_. O! doubtless--doubtless, sir.

_Sir Per_. Now, sir, where do you think I ganged to look for this woman
with the siller?--nai till court, nai till playhouses or assemblies--nai,
sir. I ganged till the kirk, till the anabaptist, independent, bradlonian,
and muggletonian meetings; till the morning and evening service of
churches and chapels of ease, and till the midnight, melting, conciliating
love-feasts of the methodists; and there, sir, at last, I fell upon an
old, slighted, antiquated, musty maiden, that looked--ha, ha, ha! she
looked just like a skeleton in a surgeon's glass case. Now, sir, this
miserable object was religiously angry with herself and aw the world; had
nai comfort but in metaphysical visions, and supernatural deliriums; ha,
ha, ha! Sir, she was as mad--as mad as a Bedlamite.

_Eger_. Not improbable, sir, there are numbers of poor creatures in the
same condition.

_Sir Per_. O! numbers--numbers. Now, sir, this cracked creature used to
pray, and sing, and sigh, and groan, and weep, and wail, and gnash her
teeth constantly, morning and evening, at the Tabernacle in Moorfields:
and as soon as I found she had the siller, aha! guid traith, I plumpt me
down upon my knees, close by her--cheek by jowl--and prayed, and sighed,
and sung, and groaned, and gnashed my teeth as vehemently as she could do
for the life of her; ay, and turned up the whites of mine een, till the
strings awmost crackt again:--I watcht her motions, handed her till her
chair, waited on her home, got most religiously intimate with her in a
week,--married her in a fortnight, buried her in a month;--touched the
siller, and with a deep suit of mourning, a melancholy port, a sorrowful
visage, and a joyful heart, I began the world again;--and this, sir, was
the first bow, that is, the first effectual bow, I ever made till the
vanity of human nature:--now, sir, do you understand this doctrine?

_Eger_. Perfectly well, sir.

_Sir Per_. Ay, but was it not right? was it not ingenious, and weel hit
off?

_Eger_. Certainly, sir: extremely well.

_Sir Per_. My next bow, sir, was till your ain mother, whom I ran away
with fra the boarding school; by the interest of whose family I got a guid
smart place in the Treasury:--and, sir, my vary next step was intill
Parliament; the which I entered with as ardent and as determined an
ambition as ever agitated the heart of Cæsar himself. Sir, I bowed, and
watched, and hearkened, and ran about, backwards and forwards; and
attended, and dangled upon the then great man, till I got intill the vary
bowels of his confidence,--and then, sir, I wriggled, and wrought, and
wriggled, till I wriggled myself among the very thick of them: hah! I got
my snack of the clothing, the foraging, the contracts, the lottery
tickets--and aw the political bonusses;--till at length, sir, I became a
much wealthier man than one half of the golden calves I had been so long a
bowing to: [_He rises, and_ Eger. _rises too._]--and was nai that bowing
to some purpose?

_Eger_. It was indeed, sir.

_Sir Per_. But are you convinced of the guid effects, and of the utility
of bowing?

_Eger_. Thoroughly, sir.

_Sir Per_. Sir, it is infallible:--but, Charles, ah! while I was thus
bowing, and wriggling, and raising this princely fortune,--ah! I met with
many heart-sores and disappointments fra the want of literature,
eloquence, and other popular abeleties. Sir, guin I could but have spoken
in the house, I should have done the deed in half the time; but the
instant I opened my mouth there, they aw fell a laughing at me;--aw which
deficiencies, sir, I determined, at any expence, to have supplied by the
polished education of a son, who, I hoped, would one day raise the house
of Macsycophant till the highest pitch of ministerial ambition. This, sir,
is my plan: I have done my part of it; Nature has done hers: you are
popular, you are eloquent; aw parties like and respect you; and now, sir,
it only remains for you to be directed--completion follows.

_Eger_. Your liberality, sir, in my education, and the judicious choice
you made of the worthy gentleman, to whose virtue and abilities you
entrusted me, are obligations I shall ever remember with the deepest
filial gratitude.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel, sir: but, Charles, have you had any conversation yet
with Lady Rodolpha, about the day of your marriage--your liveries--your
equipage--or your domestic establishment?

_Eger_. Not yet, sir.

_Sir Per_. Poh! why there again now you are wrong--vary wrong.

_Eger_. Sir, we have not had an opportunity.

_Sir Per_. Why, Charles, you are vary tardy in this business.

_Lord Lum_. [_Sings without, flusht with wine_.]
'What have we with day to do?'

_Sir Per_. O! here comes my lord.

_Lord Lum_. 'Sons of care, 'twas made for you,'
    [_Enters, drinking a dish of coffee_: TOMLINS _waiting with a salver
in his hand_.]
--'Sons of care, 'twas made for you.' Very, good coffee indeed, Mr.
Tomlins. 'Sons of care, 'twas made for you.' Here, Mr. Tomlins.

_Tom_. Will your lordship please to have another dish?

_Lord Lum_. No more, Mr. Tomlins. [_Exit_ Tomlins.]
Ha, ha, ha! my host of the Scotch pints, we have had warm work.

_Sir Per_. Yes; you pushed the bottle about, my lord, with the joy and
vigour of a Bacchanal.

_Lord Lum_. That I did, my dear Mac; no loss of time with me: I have but
three motions, old boy,--charge--toast--fire--and off we go: ha, ha, ha!
that's my exercise.

_Sir Per_. And fine warm exercise it is, my lord,--especially with the
half-pint glasses.

_Lord Lum_. Zounds! it does execution point blanc:--ay, ay, none of your
pimping acorn glasses for me, but your manly, old English half-pint
bumpers, my dear: they try a fellow's stamina at once:--but, where's
Egerton?

_Sir Per_. Just at hand, my lord; there he stands--looking at your
lordship's picture.

_Lord Lum_. My dear Egerton.

_Eger_. Your lordship's most obedient.

_Lord Lum_. I beg pardon: I did not see you: I am sorry you left us so
soon after dinner: had you staid, you would have been highly entertained.
I have made such examples of the commissioner, the captain, and the
colonel.

_Eger_. So I understand, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. But, Egerton, I have slipt from the company for a few moments,
on purpose to have a little chat with you. Rodolpha tells me she fancies
there is a kind of demur on your side, about your marriage with her.

_Sir Per_. A demur! how so, my lord?

_Lord Lum_. Why, as I was drinking my coffee with the women just now, I
desired they would fix the wedding night, and the etiquette of the
ceremony; upon which the girl burst into a loud laugh, telling me she
supposed I was joking, for that Mr. Egerton had never yet given her a
single glance or hint upon the subject.

_Sir Per_. My lord, I have been just now talking to him about his shyness
to the lady.

    _Enter_ TOMLINS..

_Tom_. Counsellor Plausible is come, sir, and serjeant Eitherside.

_Sir Per_. Why then we can settle the business this very evening, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. As well as in seven years: and, to make the way as short as
possible, pray, Mr. Tomlins, present your master's compliments and mine to
Lady Rodolpha, and let her ladyship know we wish to speak with her
directly: [_Exit_ Tomlins.]--He shall attack her this instant, Sir
Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. Ay! this is doing business effectually, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. O! I will pit them in a moment, Sir Pertinax,--that will bring
them into the heat of the action at once, and save a great deal of
awkwardness on both sides. O! here your dulcinea comes, sir.

    _Enter Lady_ RODOLPHA, _singing, a music paper in her hand._

_Lady Rod_. I have been learning this air of Constantia: I protest, her
touch on the harpsichord is quite brilliant, and really her voice not
amiss. Weel, Sir Pertinax, I attend your commands, and yours, my paternal
lord. [_Lady_ Rod. _curtsies very low; my lord bows very low, and answers
in the same tone and manner._]

_Lord Lum_. Why, then, my filial lady, we are to inform you that the
commission for your ladyship and this enamoured cavalier, commanding you
to serve your country, jointly and inseparably, in the honourable and
forlorn hope of matrimony, is to be signed this very evening.

_Lady Rod_. This evening, my lord!

_Lord Lum_. This evening, my lady. Come, Sir Pertinax, let us leave them
to settle their liveries, wedding-suits, carriages, and all their amorous
equipage, for the nuptial campaign.

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha! excellent! excellent! weel, I vow, my lord, you are
a great officer:--this is as guid a manoeuvre to bring on a rapid
engagement as the ablest general of them aw could have started.

_Lord Lum_. Ay, ay! leave them together; they'll soon come to a right
understanding, I warrant you, or the needle and loadstone have lost their
sympathy.    [_Exit Lord_ Lum. _and Sir_ Per.

[_Lady_ Rodolpha _stands at that side of the Stage, where they went off,
in amazement:_ Egerton _is at the opposite side, who, after some anxious
emotion, settles into a deep reflection:--this part of the scene must be
managed by a nice whispering tone of self-conversation mutually observed
by the Lovers._]

_Lady Rod_. [_Aside._] Why, this is downright tyranny! it has quite dampt
my spirits; and my betrothed, yonder, seems planet-struck too, I think.

_Eger_. [_Aside._] A whimsical situation, mine!

_Lady Rod_. [_Aside._] Ha, ha, ha! methinks we look like a couple of
cautious generals, that are obliged to take the field, but neither of us
seems willing to come till action.

_Eger_. [_Aside._] I protest, I know not how to address her.

_Lady Rod_. [_Aside._] He will nai advance, I see: what am I to do in this
affair? guid traith, I will even do, as I suppose many brave heroes have
done before me,--clap a guid face upon the matter, and so conceal an
aching heart under a swaggering countenance.
[_As she advances, she points at him, and smothers a laugh; but when she
speaks to him, the tone must be_ loud, _and rude on the word_ Sir.]
_Sir_, as we have,--by the commands of our guid fathers, a business of
some little consequence to transact,--I hope you will excuse my taking the
liberty of recommending a chair till you, for the repose of your body--in
the embarrassed deliberation of your perturbed spirits.

_Eger_. [_Greatly embarrassed._] Madam, I beg your pardon. [_Hands her a
chair, then one for himself._] Please to sit, madam. [_They sit down with
great ceremony: she sits down first. He sits at a distance from her. They
are silent for some time. He coughs, hems, and adjusts himself. She
mimicks him._]

_Lady Rod_. [_Aside._] Aha! he's resolved not to come too near till me, I
think.

_Eger_. [_Aside._] A pleasant interview, this--hem, hem!

_Lady Rod_. [_Aside, mimicks him to herself._] Hem! he will not open the
congress, I see.--Then I will.--[_very loud._] _Come, sir_, when will you
begin?

_Eger_. [_Greatly surprised._] Begin! what, madam?

_Lady Rod_. To make love till me.

_Eger_. Love, madam!

_Lady Rod_. Ay, love, sir.--Why, you have never said a word till me on
the subject,--nor cast a single glance at me,--nor heaved one tender
sigh,--nor even secretly squeezed my loof:--now, sir, thof our fathers are
so tyrannical as to dispose of us without the consent of our hearts;--yet
you, sir, I hope, have more humanity than to think of marrying me without
administering some of the preliminaries, usual on those occasions:--if not
till my understanding and sentiments, yet till the vanity of my sex, at
least, I hope you will pay some little tribute of ceremony and adulation:
that, I think, I have a right to expect.

_Eger_. Madam, I own your reproach is just:--I shall therefore no longer
disguise my sentiments, but fairly let you know my heart.

_Lady Rod_. [_Starts up, and runs to him._] That's right,--that is right,
cousin;--honourably and affectionately right;--that is what I like of aw
things in my swain.--Ay, ay, cousin--open your mind frankly till me, as a
true lover shou'd.--But sit you down--sit you down again: I shall return
your frankness and your passion, cousin, with a melting tenderness, equal
till the amorous enthusiasm of an ancient heroine.

_Eger_. Madam, if you will hear me----

_Lady Rod_. But, remember, you must begin with fervency,--and a most
rapturous vehemency:--for you are to consider, cousin, that our match is
nai to arise fra the union of hearts, and a long decorum of ceremonious
courtship;--but is instantly to start at once--out of necessity, or mere
accident;--ha, ha, ha! like a match in an ancient romance,--where you ken,
cousin,--the knight and the damsel are mutually smitten and dying for each
other at first sight,--or by an amorous sympathy before they exchange a
single glance.

_Eger_. Dear madam, you entirely mistake----

_Lady Rod_. And our fathers,--ha, ha, ha! our fathers are to be the dark
magicians that are to fascinate our hearts and conjure us together,
whether we will or not.

_Eger_. Ridiculous!

_Lady Rod_. So now, cousin, with the true romantic enthusiasm,--you are to
suppose me the lady of the enchanted castle, and you--ha, ha, ha! you are
to be the knight of the sorrowful countenance--ha, ha, ha! and, upon
honour--you look the character admirably;--ha, ha, ha!

_Eger_. Rude trifling creature!

_Lady Rod_. Come, sir,--why do you nai begin to ravish me with your
valour, your vows, your knight errantry, and your amorous phrenzy.--Nay,
nay, nay! guin you do nai begin at once, the lady of the enchanted castle
will vanish in a twinkling.

_Eger_. Lady Rodolpha, I know your talent for raillery well;--but at
present, in my case, there is a kind of cruelty in it.

_Lady Rod_. Raillery! upon honour, cousin, you mistake me quite and
clean.--I am serious--very serious;--ay, and I have cause to be serious;--
nay, I will submit my case even till yourself. [_Whines_.] Can any poor
lassy be in a more lamentable condition, than to be sent four hundred
miles, by the command of a positive grandmother, to marry a man, who I
find has no more affection for me,--than if I had been his wife these
seven years.

_Eger_. Madam, I am extremely sorry----

_Lady Rod_. [_Cries and sobs_.] But it is vary weel, cousin.--I see your
unkindness and aversion plain enough,--and, sir, I must tell you fairly,
you are the ainly man that ever slighted my person,--or that drew tears
fra these een.--But--it is vary weel--it's vary weel--I will return till
Scotland to-morrow morning, and let my grandmother know how I have been
affronted by your slights, your contempts, and your aversions.

_Eger_. If you are serious, madam, your distress gives me a deep
concern;--but affection is not in our power; and when you know that my
heart is irrecoverably given to another woman, I think, your understanding
and good nature will not only pardon my past coldness and neglect of
you,--but forgive me when I tell you, I never can have that honour which
is intended me,--by a connection with your ladyship.

_Lady Rod_. [_Starting up_.] How, sir!--are you serious?

_Eger_. [_Rises_.] Madam, I am too deeply interested, both as a man of
honour and a lover, to act otherwise with you on so tender a subject.

_Lady Rod_. And so you persist in slighting me?

_Eger_. I beg your pardon, madam; but I must be explicit, and at once
declare--that I never can give my hand where I cannot give my heart.

_Lady Rod_. [_In great anger_.] Why then, sir, I must tell you, that your
declaration is sic an affront as nai woman of spirit can, or ought to
bear:--and here I make a solemn vow, never to pardon it, but on one
condition.

_Eger_. If that condition be in my power, madam----

_Lady Rod_. [_Snaps him up_.] Sir, it is in your power.

_Eger_. Then, madam, you may command me.

_Lady Rod_. [_With a firm peremptory command_]. Why then, sir, the
condition is this;--you must here give me your honour,--that nai
importunity,--command,--or menace of your father,--in fine, that nai
consideration whatever,--shall induce you to take me, Rodolpha
Lumbercourt, to be your wedded wife.

_Eger_. Madam, I most solemnly promise, I never will.

_Lady Rod_. And I, sir, most solemnly, and sincerely [_Curtsies._] thank
you--for [_Curtsies._] your resolution, and your agreeable aversion--ha,
ha, ha! for you have made me as happy as a poor wretch, reprieved in the
vary instant of intended execution.

_Eger_. Pray, madam, how am I to understand all this?

_Lady Rod._[_With frankness, and, a reverse of manners_.] Why, sir, your
frankness and sincerity demand the same behaviour on my side;--therefore,
without farther disguise or ambiguity, know, sir, that I myself [_With a
deep sigh_.] am as deeply smitten with a certain swain, as I understand
you are with your Constantia.

_Eger_. Indeed, madam!

_Lady Rod_. [_With an amiable, soft, tender sincerity_.] O! sir,
notwithstanding aw my shew of courage and mirth,--here I stand--as errant
a trembling Thisbe, as ever sighed or mourned for her Pyramus,--and, sir,
aw my extravagant levity and ridiculous behaviour in your presence now,
and ever since _your_ father prevailed upon _mine_ to consent till this
match, has been a premeditated scheme to provoke your gravity and guid
sense intill a cordial disgust, and a positive refusal.

_Eger_. Madam, you have contrived and executed your scheme most happily.

_Lady Rod_. Then, since Cupid has thus luckily disposed of you till your
Constantia, and me till my swain, we have nothing to think of now, sir,
but to contrive how to reduce the inordinate passions of our parents
intill a temper of prudence and humanity.

_Eger_. Most willingly I consent to your proposal.----But, with your
leave, madam, if I may presume so far;--'pray, who is your lover?

_Lady Rod_. Why, in that too I shall surprise you perhaps more than
ever.--In the first place--he is a beggar--and in disgrace with an
unforgiving father;--and in the next place,--he is [_Curtsies._] your ain
brother.

_Eger_. Is it possible?

_Lady Rod_. A most amorous truth, sir;--that is, as far as a woman can
answer for her ain heart. [_in a laughing gaiety_.] So you see, cousin
Charles, thof I you'd nai mingle affections with _you_--I have nai ganged
out of the family.

_Eger_. [_A polite rapture, frank_.] Madam, give me leave to congratulate
myself upon your affection,--you cou'd not have placed it on a worthier
object; and, whatever is to be our chance in this lottery of our parents,
be assured that my fortune shall be devoted to your happiness and his.

_Lady Rod_. Generous, indeed, cousin--but not a whit nobler, I assure you,
than your brother Sandy believes of you.--And, be assured, sir, that we
shall both remember it, while the heart feels, or the memory retains a
sense of gratitude.--But now, sir, let me ask one question:--Pray, how is
your mother affected in this business?

_Eger_. She knows of my passion, and will, I am sure, be a friend to the
common cause.

_Lady Rod_. Ah! that's lucky. Our first step then must be to take her
advice upon our conduct, so as to keep our fathers in the dark till we can
hit off some measure that will wind them about till our ain purpose, and
the common interest of our ain passion.

_Eger_. You are very right, madam, for, should my father suspect my
brother's affection for your ladyship, or mine for Constantia, there is no
guessing what wou'd be the consequence.--His whole happiness depends upon
this bargain with my lord; for it gives him the possession of three
boroughs, and those, madam, are much dearer to him than the happiness of
his children. I am sorry to say it, but, to gratify his political rage, he
wou'd sacrifice every social tie, that is dear to friend or family.
[_Exeunt._


END OF THE THIRD ACT.



_ACT IV. SCENE I_.

    _Enter Sir_ PERTINAX, _and Counsellor_ PLAUSIBLE.


_Sir Per_. No, no.--Come away, Counsellor Plausible;--come away,
I say;--let them chew upon it.--Why, counsellor, did you ever see so
impertinent, so meddling, and so obstinate a blockhead, as that Serjeant
Eitherside? Confound the fellow--he has put me out of aw temper.

_Plaus_. He is very positive, indeed, Sir Pertinax,--and no doubt was
intemperate and rude. But, Sir Pertinax, I wou'd not break off the match
notwithstanding; for certainly, even without the boroughs, it is an
advantageous bargain both to you and your son.

_Sir Per_. But, zounds! Plausible, do you think I will give up the
nomination till three boroughs?--Why I wou'd rather give him twenty, nay
thirty thousand pounds in any other part of the bargain:--especially at
this juncture, when votes are likely to become so valuable.--Why, man, if
a certain affair comes on, they will rise above five hundred per cent.

_Plaus_. You judge very rightly, Sir Pertinax;--but what shall we do in
this case? for Mr. Serjeant insists that you positively agreed to my
lord's having the nomination to the three boroughs during his own life.

_Sir Per_. Why yes,--in the first sketch of the agreement, I believe I did
consent:--but at that time, man, my lord's affairs did not appear to be
half so desperate, as I now find they turn out.--Sir, he must acquiesce in
whatever I demand, for I have got him intill sic an a hobble that he
cannot----

_Plaus_. No doubt, Sir Pertinax, you have him absolutely in your power.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel:--And ought rial a man to make his vantage of it?

_Plaus_. No doubt you ought;--no manner of doubt.--But, Sir Pertinax,
there is a secret spring in this business, that you do not seem to
perceive;--and which, I am afraid, governs the matter respecting these
boroughs.

_Sir Per_. What spring do you mean, counsellor?

_Plaus_. Why this Serjeant Eitherside,--I have some reason to think that
my lord is tied down by some means or other to bring the serjeant in, the
very first vacancy, for one of these boroughs;--now that, I believe, is
the sole motive why the serjeant is so strenuous that my lord should keep
the boroughs in his own power;--fearing that you might reject him for some
man of your own.

_Sir Per_. Odswunds and death! Plausible, you are clever,--devilish
clever.--By the blood, you have hit upon the vary string that has made aw
thjs discord.--Oh! I see it,--I see it now.--But hauld--hauld--bide a wee
bit--a wee bit, man;--I have a thought come intill my head--yes--I think,
Plausible, that with a little twist in our negotiation that this vary
string, properly tuned, may be still made to produce the vary harmony we
wish for.--Yes, yes! I have it: this serjeant, I see, understands
business--and, if I am not. mistaken, knows how to take a hint.

_Plaus_. O! nobody better, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. Why then, Plausible, the short road is always the best with sic
a man.--You. must even come up till his mark at once, and assure him from
me--that I will secure him a seat for one of these vary boroughs.

_Plaus_. O! that will do, Sir Pertinax--that will do, I'll answer for't.

_Sir Per_. And further--I beg you will let him know that I think myself
obliged to consider him in this affair, as acting for me as weel as for my
lord,--as a common friend till baith:--and for the services he has already
done us, make my special compliments till him--and pray let this amicable
bit of paper be my faithful advocate to convince him of what my gratitude
further intends for his great [_Gives him a bank-bill._] equity in
adjusting this agreement betwixt my lord and me.

_Plaus_. Ha, ha, ha!--upon my word, Sir Pertinax, this is noble.--Ay, ay!
this is an eloquent bit of paper indeed.

_Sir Per_. Maister Plausible, in aw human dealings the most effectual
method is that of ganging at once till the vary bottom of a man's
heart:--for if we expect that men shou'd serve us,--we must first win
their affections by serving them.--O! here they baith come.

    _Enter Lord_ LUMBERCOURT, _and Serjeant_ EITHERSIDE.

_Lord Lum_. My dear Sir Pertinax, what could provoke you to break off this
business so abruptly? you are really wrong in the point,--and if you will
give yourself time to recollect, you will find that my having the
nomination to the boroughs for my life was a preliminary article;--I
appeal to Mr. Serjeant Eitherside here, whether I did not always
understand it so.

_Serj._I assure you, Sir Pertinax, that in all his lordship's conversation
with me upon this business, and in his positive instructions,--both he and
I always understood the nomination to be in my lord, durantê vitâ.

_ SirPer_. Why, then my lord, to shorten the dispute, aw that I can say in
answer till your lordship is--that there has been a total mistake betwixt
us in that point,--and therefore the treaty must end here. I give it up.--
O! I wash my hands of it for ever.

_Plaus_. Well, but gentlemen, gentlemen, a little patience.--Sure this
mistake, some how or other, may be rectified.--Pr'ythee, Mr. Serjeant, let
you and I step into the next room by ourselves, and reconsider the clause
relative to the boroughs, and try if we cannot hit upon a medium that will
be agreeable to both parties.

_Serj._ [_With great warmth_.] Mr. Plausible, I have considered the clause
fully;--am entirely master of the question;--my lord cannot give up the
point.--It is unkind and unreasonable to expect it.

_Plaus._ Nay, Mr. Serjeant, I beg you will not misunderstand me. Do not
think I want his lordship to give up any point without an equivalent.--Sir
Pertinax, will you permit Mr. Serjeant and me to retire a few moments to
reconsider this point?

_Sir Per_. With aw my heart, Maister Plausible; any thing to oblige his
lordship--any thing to accomodate his lordship--any thing.

_Plaus._ What say you, my lord?

_Lord Lum_ Nay, I submit it entirely to you and Mr. Serjeant.

_Plaus._ Come, Mr. Serjeant, let us retire.

_Lord Lum_. Ay, ay,--go, Mr. Serjeant, and hear what Mr. Plausible has to
say.

_Serj_. Nay, I'll wait on Mr. Plausible, my lord, with all my heart; but I
am sure I cannot suggest the shadow of a reason for altering my present
opinion: impossible--impossible.

_Plaus_. Well, well, Mr. Serjeant, do not be positive. I am sure, reason,
and your client's conveniency, will always make you alter your opinion.

_Serj_. Ay, ay--reason, and my client's conveniency, Mr. Plausible, will
always controul my opinion, depend upon it: ay, ay! there you are right.
Sir, I attend you.    [_Exeunt Lawyers._

_Sir Per_. I am sorry, my lord, extremely sorry indeed, that this mistake
has happened.

_Lord Lum_. Upon my honour, and so am I, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. But come now, after aw, your lordship must allow you have been
in the wrong: come, my dear lord, you must allow me that now.

_Lord Lum_. How so, my dear Sir Pertinax?

_Sir Per_. Not about the boroughs, my lord, for those I do no mind of a
bawbee;--but about your distrust of my friendship.--Why, do you think
now--I appeal till your ain breast, my lord--do you think, I say, that I
should ever have slighted your lordship's nomination till these boroughs.

_Lord Lum_. Why, really, I do not think you would, Sir Pertinax, but one
must be directed by one's lawyer, you know.

_Sir Per_. Hah! my lord, lawyers are a dangerous species of animals to
have any dependance upon: they are always starting punctilios and
difficulties among friends. Why, my dear lord, it is their interest that
aw mankind should be at variance: for disagreement is the vary manure with
which they enrich and fatten the land of litigation; and as they find that
that constantly promotes the best crop, depend upon it, they will always
be sure to lay it on as thick as they can.

_Lord Lum_. Come, come, my dear Sir Pertinax, you must not be angry with
the serjeant for his insisting so warmly on this point--for those
boroughs, you know, are my sheet anchor.

_Sir Per_. I know it, my lord,--and, as an instance of my promptness to
study, and of my acquiescence till your lordship's inclination, as I see
that this Serjeant Eitherside wishes you weel and you him, I think now he
would be as guid a man to be returned for one of those boroughs as could
be pitched upon--and as such, I humbly recommend him till your lordship's
consideration.

_Lord Lum_. Why, my dear Sir Pertinax, to tell you the truth, I have
already promised him. He must be in for one of them, and that is one
reason why I insisted so strenuously: he must be in.

_Sir Per_. And why not? odswunds! why not? is nai your word a fiat? and
will it nai be always so till me? are ye nai my friend--my patron--and are
we nai, by this match of our children, to be united intill one interest?

_Lord Lum_. So I understand it, I own, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. My lord, it can nai be otherwise: then, for Heaven's sake, as
your lordship and I can have but one interest for the future, let us have
nai mair words about these paltry boroughs, but conclude the agreement
just as it stands; otherwise there must be new writings drawn, new
consultations of lawyers, new objections and delays will arise,--creditors
will be impatient and impertinent, so that we shall nai finish the Lord
knows when.

_Lord Lum_. You are right, you are right: say no more, Mac, say no more.
Split the lawyers--you judge the point better than all Westminster-hall
could. It shall stand as it is: yes, you shall settle it your own way: for
your interest and mine are the same, I see plainly.

_Sir Per_. No doubt of it, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. O! here the lawyers come.

    _Enter Counsellor_ PLAUSIBLE _and Serjeant_ EITHERSIDE.

_Lord Lum_. So, gentlemen--well, what have you done? how are your opinions
now?

_Serj_. My lord, Mr. Plausible has convinced me--fully convinced me.

_Plaus_. Yes, my lord, I have convinced him; I have laid such arguments
before Mr. Serjeant as were irresistible.

_Serj_. He has indeed, my lord: besides, as Sir Pertinax gives his honour
that your lordship's nomination shall be sacredly observed, why, upon a
nearer review of the whole matter, I think it will be the wiser measure to
conclude the agreement just as it is drawn.

_Lord Lum_. I am very glad you think so, Mr. Serjeant, because that is my
opinion too: so, my dear Eitherside, do you and Plausible dispatch the
business now as soon as possible.

_Serj_. My lord, every thing will be ready in less than an hour. Come,
Mr. Plausible, let us go and fill up the blanks, and put the last hand to
the writings on our part.

_Plaus_. I attend you, Mr. Serjeant.    [_Exeunt Lawyers_.

_Lord Lum_. And while the lawyers are preparing the writings, Sir
Pertinax, I will go and saunter with the women.

_Sir Per_. Do, do, my lord: and I will come till you presently.

_Lord Lum_. Very well, my dear Mac, I shall expect you.
                               [_Exit singing, 'Sons of care,' &c._

_Sir Per_. So! a little flattery mixt with the finesse of a gilded promise
on one side, and a quantum sufficit of the aurum palpabile on the other,
have at last made me the happiest father in Great-Britain. Hah! my
heart expands itself, as it were thro' every part of my whole body, at
the completion of this business, and feels nothing but dignity and
elevation.--Hauld! hauld! bide a wee! bide a wee! I have but one little
matter mair in this affair to adjust, and then, Sir Pertinax, you may
dictate till Fortune herself, and send her to govern fools, while you shew
and convince the world that wise men always govern her. Wha's there?
[_Enter Footman._]--Tell my son Egerton, I would speak with him here in
the library. [_Exit Footman_]--Now I have settled the grand point with my
lord, this, I think, is the proper juncture to feel the political pulse of
my spark, and, once for aw, to set it to the exact measure that I would
have it constantly beat. [_Enter_ Egerton.]--Come hither, Charles.

_Eger_. Your pleasure, sir.

_Sir Per_. About twa hours since I told you, Charles, that I received this
letter express, complaining of your brother's activity at an election in
Scotland against a particular friend of mine, which has given great
offence; and, sir, you are mentioned in the letter as weel as he: to be
plain, I must roundly tell you, that on this interview depends my
happiness as a father and as a man; and my affection to you, sir, as a son
for the remainder of our days.

_Eger_. I hope, sir, I shall never do any thing either to forfeit your
affection, or disturb your happiness.

_Sir Per_. I hope so too--but to the point.--The fact is this: there has
been a motion made this vary day to bring on the grand affair--which is
settled for Friday seven-night:--now, sir, as you are popular--have
talents, and are weel heard, it is expected, and I insist upon it, that
you endeavour to atone, sir, for your late misconduct, by preparing, and
taking a large share in that question, and supporting it with aw your
power.

_Eger_, Sir, I have always divided as you directed, except on one
occasion; never voted against your friends, only in that affair.--But,
sir, I hope you will not so exert your influence as to insist upon my
supporting a measure by an obvious, prostituted sophistry, in direct
opposition to my character and my conscience.

_Sir Per_. Conscience! why, you are mad! did you ever hear any man talk of
conscience in political matters? Conscience, quotha? I have been in
Parliament these three and thraty years, and never heard the term made use
of before:--sir, it is an unparliamentary word, and you will be laughed at
for it;--therefore I desire you will not offer to impose upon me with sic
phantoms, but let me know your reason for thus slighting my friends and
disobeying my commands.--Sir, give me an immediate and an explicit answer.

_Eger_. Then, sir, I must frankly tell you, that you work against my
nature; you would connect me with men I despise, and press me into
measures I abhor; would make me a devoted slave to selfish leaders, who
have no friendship but in faction--no merit but in corruption--nor
interest in any measure, but their own;--and to such men I cannot submit;
for know, sir, that the malignant ferment which the venal ambition of the
times provokes in the heads and hearts of other men, I detest.

_Sir Per_. What are you about, sir? malignant ferment! and venal ambition!
Sir, every man should be ambitious to serve his country--and every man
should be rewarded for it: and pray, sir, would nai you wish to serve your
country? Answer me that.--I say, would nai you wish to serve your country?

_Eger_. Only shew me how I can serve my country, and my life is hers.
Were I qualified to lead her armies, to steer her fleets, and deal her
honest vengeance on her insulting foes;--or could my eloquence pull down a
state leviathan, mighty by the plunder of his country--black with the
treasons of her disgrace, and send his infamy down to a free posterity, as
a monumental terror to corrupt ambition, I would be foremost in such
service, and act it with the unremitting ardour of a Roman spirit.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel, sir! vary weel! the fellow is beside himself!

_Eger_. But to be a common barker at envied power--to beat the drum of
faction, and sound the trumpet of insidious patriotism, only to displace a
rival,--or to be a servile voter in proud corruption's filthy train,--to
market out my voice, my reason, and my trust, to the party-broker, who
best can promise, or pay for prostitution; these, sir, are services my
nature abhors,--for they are such a malady to every kind of virtue, as
must in time destroy the fairest constitution that ever wisdom framed,
or virtuous liberty fought for.

_Sir Per_. Why, are you mad, sir? you have certainly been bit by some mad
whig or other: but now, sir, after aw this foul-mouthed frenzy, and
patriotic vulgar intemperance, suppose we were to ask you a plain question
or twa: Pray, what single instance can you, or any man, give of the
political vice or corruption of these days, that has nai been practised in
the greatest states, and in the most virtuous times? I challenge you to
give me a single instance.

_Eger_. Your pardon, sir--it is a subject I wish to decline: you know,
sir, we never can agree about it.

_Sir Per_. Sir, I insist upon an answer.

_Eger_. I beg you will excuse me, sir.

_Sir Per_. I will not excuse you, sir. I insist.

_Eger_. Then, sir, in obedience, and with your patience, I will answer
your question.

_Sir Per_. Ay! ay! I will be patient, never fear: come, let us have it,
let us have it.

_Eger_. You shall; and now, sir, let prejudice, the rage of party, and
the habitual insolence of successful vice--pause but for one moment,--and
let religion, laws, power herself, the policy of a nation's virtue, and
Britain's guardian genius, take a short, impartial retrospect but of one
transaction, notorious in this land,--then must they behold yeomen,
freemen, citizens, artizans, divines, courtiers, patriots, merchants,
soldiers, sailors, and the whole plebeian tribe, in septennial procession,
urged and seduced by the contending great ones of the land to the altar
of perjury,--with the bribe in one hand, and the evangelist in the
other,--impiously, and audaciously affront the Majesty of Heaven, by
calling him to witness that they have not received, nor ever will receive,
reward or consideration for his suffrage.--Is not this a fact, sir? Can it
be denied? Can it be believed by those who know not Britain? Or can it be
matched in the records of human policy?--Who then, sir, that reflects one
moment, as a Briton or a Christian, on this picture, would be conducive to
a people's infamy and a nation's ruin?

_Sir Per_. Sir, I have heard your rhapsody with a great deal of patience!
and great astonishment,--and you are certainly beside yourself. What the
devil business have you to trouble your head about the sins or the Souls
of other men? You should leave these matters till the clergy, wha are paid
for looking after them; and let every man gang till the devil his ain way:
besides, it is nai decent to find fault with what is winked at by the
whole nation--nay, and practised by aw parties.

_Eger_. That, sir, is the very shame, the ruin I complain of.

_Sir Per_. Oh! you are vary young, vary young in these matters, but
experience will convince you, sir, that every man in public business has
twa consciences,--a religious, and a political conscience. Why, you see a
merchant now, or a shop-keeper, that kens the science of the world, always
looks upon an oath at a custom-house, or behind a counter, only as an oath
in business, a thing of course, a mere thing of course, that has nothing
to do with religion;--and just so it is at an election:--for instance
now--I am a candidate, pray observe, and I gang till a periwig-maker,
a hatter, or a hosier, and I give ten, twenty, or thraty guineas for a
periwig, a hat, or a pair of hose; and so on, thro' a majority of
voters;--vary weel;--what is the consequence? Why, this commercial
intercourse, you see, begets a friendship betwixt us, a commercial
friendship--and, in a day or twa these men gang and give me their
suffrages; weel! what is the inference? Pray, sir, can you, or any lawyer,
divine, or casuist, cawl this a bribe? Nai, sir, in fair political
reasoning, it is ainly generosity on the one side, and gratitude on the
other. So, sir, let me have nai mair of your religious or philosophical
refinements, but prepare, attend, and speak till the question, or you are
nai son of mine. Sir, I insist upon it.

    _Enter_ SAM.

_Sam_. Sir, my lord says the writings are now ready, and his lordship and
the lawyers are waiting for you and Mr. Egerton.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel: we'll attend his lordship. [_Exit_ Sam.] I tell you,
Charles, aw this conscientious refinement in politics is downright
ignorance, and impracticable romance; and, sir, I desire I may hear no
more of it. Come, sir, let us gang down and finish this business.

_Eger_. [_Stopping Sir_ Per. _as he is going off,_] Sir, with your
permission, I beg you will first hear a word or two upon this subject.

_Sir Per_. Weel, sir, what would you say?

_Eger_. I have often resolved to let you know my aversion to this match.--

_Sir Per_. How, sir!

_Eger_. But my respect, and fear of disobliging you, have hitherto kept me
silent--

_Sir Per_. Your aversion! your aversion, sir! how dare you use sic
language till me? Your aversion! Look you, sir, I shall cut the matter
vary short:--consider, my fortune is nai inheritance; aw mine ain
acquisition: I can make ducks and drakes of it; so do not provoke me,
but sign the articles directly.

_Eger_. I beg your pardon, sir, but I must be free on this occasion,
and tell you at once, that I can no longer dissemble the honest passion
that fills my heart for another woman.

_Sir Per_. How! another woman! and, you villain, how dare you love another
woman without my leave? But what other woman--wha is she? Speak, sir,
speak.

_Eger_. Constantia.

_Sir Per_. Constantia! oh, you profligate! what! a creature taken in for
charity!

_Eger_. Her poverty is not her crime, sir, but her misfortune: her birth
is equal to the noblest; and virtue, tho' covered with a village garb, is
virtue still; and of more worth to me than all the splendor of ermined
pride or redundant wealth. Therefore, sir--

_Sir Per_. Haud your jabbering, you villain, haud your jabbering; none
of your romance or refinement till me. I have but one question to ask
you--but one question--and then I have done with you for ever, for ever;
therefore think before you answer:--Will you marry the lady, or will you
break my heart?

_Eger_. Sir, my presence shall not offend you any longer: but when reason
and reflection take their turn, I am sure you will not be pleased with
yourself for this unpaternal passion.    [_Going._

_Sir Per_. Tarry, I command you; and, I command you likewise not to stir
till you have given me an answer, a definitive answer: Will you marry the
lady, or will you not?

_Eger_. Since you command me, sir, know then, that I can not, will not
marry her.    [_Exit._

_Sir Per_. Oh! the villain has shot me thro' the head! he has cut my
vitals! I shall run distracted;--the fellow destroys aw my measures--aw my
schemes:--there never was sic a bargain as I have made with this foolish
lord,--possession of his whole estate, with three boroughs upon it--six
members--Why, what an acquisition! what consequence! what dignity! what
weight till the house of Macsycophant! O! damn the fellow! three boroughs,
only for sending down six broomsticks.--O! miserable! miserable! ruined!
undone! For these five and twanty years, ever since this fellow came
intill the world, have I been secretly preparing him for ministerial
dignity,--and with the fellow's eloquence, abilities, popularity, these
boroughs, and proper connections, he might certainly, in a little time,
have done the deed; and sure never were times so favorable, every thing
conspires, for aw the auld political post-horses are broken-winded and
foundered, and cannot get on; and as till the rising generation, the
vanity of surpassing one another in what they foolishly call taste and
elegance, binds them hand and foot in the chains of luxury, which will
always set them up till the best bidder; so that if they can but get
wherewithal to supply their dissipation, a minister may convert the
political morals of aw sic voluptuaries intill a vote that would sell the
nation till Prester John, and their boasted liberties till the great
Mogul;--and this opportunity I shall lose by my son's marrying a vartuous
beggar for love:--O! confound her vartue! it will drive me distracted.
[_Exit._


END OF THE FOURTH ACT.



_ACT V. SCENE I_.

    _Enter Sir_ PERTINAX, _and_ BETTY HINT.


_Sir Per_. Come this way, Betty--come this way:--you are a guid girl, and
I will reward you for this discovery.--O the villain! offer her marriage!

_Bet_. It is true, indeed, sir;--I wou'd not tell your honour a lie for
the world: but in troth it lay upon my conscience, and I thought it my
duty to tell your worship.

_Sir Per_. You are right--you are right;--it was your duty to tell me, and
I'll reward you for it. But you say Maister Sidney is in love with her
too.--Pray how came you by that intelligence?

_Bet_. O! sir, I know when folks are in love, let them strive to hide it
as much as they will.--I know it by Mr. Sidney's eyes, when I see him
stealing a sly side-look at her,--by his trembling,--his breathing
short,--his sighing when they are reading together. Besides, sir, he has
made love-verses upon her in praise of her virtue, and her playing upon
the music.--Ay! and I suspect: another thing, sir,--she has a sweetheart,
if not a husband, not far from hence.

_Sir Per_. Wha? Constantia?

_Bet_. Ay, Constantia, sir.--Lord! I can know the whole affair, sir,
only for sending over to Hadley, to farmer Hilford's youngest daughter,
Sukey Hilford.

_Sir Per_. Then send this instant and get me a particular account of it.

_Bet_. That I will, sir.

_Sir Per_. In the mean time, keep a strict watch upon Constantia,--and
be sure you bring me word of whatever new matter you can pick up about
her, my son, or this Hadley husband or sweetheart.

_Bet_. Never fear, sir.    [_Exit._

_Sir Per_. This love of Sidney's for Constantia is not unlikely.--There
is something promising in it.--Yes! I think it is nai impossible to
convert it intill a special and immediate advantage. It is but trying.
Wha's there?--If it misses, I am but where I was. [_Enter_ Tomlins.] Where
is Maister Sidney?

_Tom_. In the dining room, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. Tell him I wou'd speak with him. [_Exit_ Tomlins.] 'Tis more
than probable.--Spare to speak and spare to speed. Try--try--always try
the human heart:--try is as guid a maxim in politics as in war.--Why,
suppose this Sidney now shou'd be privy till his friend Charles's love for
Constantia.--What then? guid traith, it is natural to think that his ain
love will demand the preference,--ay, and obtain it too.--Yes, self--self
is an eloquent advocate on these occasions, and seldom loses his cause. I
have the general principle of human nature at least to encourage me in the
experiment;--for only make it a man's interest to be a rascal, and I think
we may safely depend upon his integrity--in serving himself.

    _Enter_ SIDNEY.

_Sid_. Sir Pertinax, your servant.--Mr. Tomlins told me you desired to
speak with me.

_Sir Per_. Yes, I wanted to speak with you upon a vary singular business.
Maister Sidney, give me your hand.--Guin it did nai look like flattery,
which I detest, I wou'd tell you, Maister Sidney, that you are an honour
till your cloth, your country, and till human nature.

_Sid_. Sir, you are very obliging.

_Sir Per_. Sit you down, Maister Sidney:--Sit you down here by me. My
friend, I am under the greatest obligations till you for the care you
have taken of Charles.--The principles--religious, moral, and political--
that you have infused intill him, demand the warmest return of gratitude
both fra him and fra me.

_Sid_. Your approbation, sir, next to that of my own conscience, is the
best test of my endeavours, and the highest applause they can receive.

_Sir Per_. Sir, you deserve it,--richly deserve it.--And now, sir, the
same care that you have had of Charles,--the same my wife has taken of her
favourite Constantia.--And sure, never were accomplishments, knowledge or
principles, social and religious, infused intill a better nature.

_Sid_. In truth, sir, I think so too.

_Sir Per_. She is besides a gentlewoman, and of as guid a family as any in
this county.

_Sid_. So I understand, sir.

_SirPer_. Sir, her father had a vast estate; the which he dissipated and
melted in feastings, and friendships, and charities, hospitalities, and
sic kind of nonsense.--But to the business.--Maister Sidney, I love you,--
yes,--I love you,--and I have been looking out and, contriving how to
settle you in the world.--Sir, I want to see you comfortably and
honourably fixt at the head of a respectable family,--and guin you were
mine ain son, a thousand times,--I cou'd nai make a more valuable present
till you for that purpose, as a partner for life, than this same
Constantia,--with sic a fortune down with her as you yourself shall deem
to be competent,--and an assurance of every canonical contingency in my
power to confer or promote.

_Sid_. Sir, your offer is noble and friendly:--but tho' the highest
station would derive lustre from Constantia's charms and worth, yet, were
she more amiable than love could paint her in the lover's fancy,--and
wealthy beyond the thirst of the miser's appetite,--I could not--would not
wed her.    [_Rises._

_Sir Per_. Not wed her! odswunds, man! you surprise me!--Why so?--what
hinders?

_Sid_. I beg you will not ask a reason for my refusal,--but, briefly and
finally--it cannot be; nor is it a subject I can longer converse upon.

_Sir Per_. Weel, weel, weel, sir, I have done,--I have done.--Sit down,
man;--sit down again;--sit you down.--I shall mention it no more;--not but
I must confess honestly till you, friend Sidney, that the match, had you
approved of my proposal, besides profiting you, wou'd have been of
singular service till me likewise.--However, you may still serve me as
effectually as if you had married her.

_Sid_. Then, sir, I am sure I will most heartily.

_Sir Per_. I believe it, friend Sidney,--and I thank you.--I have nai
friend to depend upon, but yourself. My heart is almost broke.--I cannot
help these tears,--And, to tell you the fact at once--your friend Charles
is struck with a most dangerous malady,--a kind of insanity.--You see I
cannot help weeping when I think of it;--in short this Constantia, I am
afraid, has cast an evil eye upon him.--Do you understand me?

_Sid._ Not very well, sir.

_Sir Per._ Why, he is grievously smitten with the love of her;--and, I am
afraid, will never be cured without a little of your assistance.

_Sid._ Of my assistance! pray, sir, in what manner?

_Sir Per._ In what manner? Lord, Maister Sidney, how can you be so dull?
Why, how is any man cured of his love till a wench, but by ganging to bed
till her? Now do you understand me?

_Sid._ Perfectly, sir--perfectly.

_Sir Per._ Vary weel.--Now then, my very guid friend, guin you wou'd but
give him that hint, and take an opportunity to speak a guid word for him
till the wench;--and guin you wou'd likewise cast about a little now,--and
contrive to bring them together once,--why, in a few days after he wou'd
nai care a pinch of snuff for her. [Sidney _starts up._] What is the
matter with you, man?--What the devil gars you start and look so
astounded?

_Sid._ Sir, you amaze me.--In what part of my mind or conduct have you
found that baseness, which entitles you to treat me with this indignity?

_Sir Per._ Indignity! What indignity do you mean, sir? Is asking you to
serve a friend with a wench an indignity? Sir, am I not your patron and
benefactor? Ha?

_Sid._ You are, sir, and I feel your bounty at my heart;--but the virtuous
gratitude, that sowed the deep sense of it there, does not inform me that,
in return, the tutor's sacred function, or the social virtue of the man
must be debased into the pupil's pander, or the patron's prostitute.

_Sir Per._ How! what, sir! do you dispute? Are you nai my dependent? ha?
And do you hesitate about an ordinary civility, which is practised every
day by men and women of the first fashion? Sir, let me tell you,--however
nice you may be, there is nai a client about the court that wou'd nai jump
at sic an opportunity to oblige his patron.

_Sid._ Indeed, sir, I believe the doctrine of pimping for patrons, as well
as that of prostituting eloquence and public trust for private lucre, may
be learned in your party schools:--for where faction and public venality
are taught as measures necessary to good government and general
prosperity--there every vice is to be expected.

_Sir Per._ Oho! oho! vary weel! vary weel! fine slander upon ministers!
fine sedition against government! O, ye villain! you--you--you are a black
sheep;--and I'll mark you.--I am glad you shew yourself.--Yes, yes,--you
have taken off the mask at last;--you have been in my service for many
years, and I never knew your principles before.

_Sid._ Sir, you never affronted them before:--if you had, you should have
known them sooner.

_Sir Per._ It is vary weel.--I have done with you.--Ay, ay; now I can
account for my son's conduct--his aversion till courts, till ministers,
levees, public business, and his disobedience till my commands.--Ah! you
are a Judas--a perfidious fellow;--you have ruined the morals of my son,
you villain.--But I have done with you.--However, this I will prophecy at
our parting, for your comfort,--that guin you are so very squeamish about
bringing a lad and a lass together, or about doing sic an a harmless
innocent job for your patron, you will never rise in the church.

_Sid._ Though my conduct, sir, should not make me rise in her power, I am
sure it will in her favour, in the favour of my own conscience too, and in
the esteem of all worthy men;--and that, sir, is a power and dignity
beyond what patrons, or any minister can bestow.      [_Exit._

_Sir Per._ What a rigorous, saucy, stiff-necked rascal it is! I see my
folly now.--I am undone by mine ain policy.--This Sidney is the last man
that shou'd have been about my son:--The fellow, indeed, hath given him
principles, that might have done vary weel among the ancient Romans,--but
are damn'd unfit for the modern Britons.--Weel, guin I had a thousand
sons, I never wou'd suffer one of these English, university-bred fellows
to be about a son of mine again;--for they have sic an a pride of
literature and character, and sic saucy, English notions of liberty
continually fermenting in their thoughts, that a man is never sure of
them. Now, if I had had a Frenchman, or a foreigner of any kind, about my
son, I cou'd have pressed him at once into my purpose,--or have kicked the
rascal out of my house in a twinkling.--But what am I to do?--Zoons! he
must nai marry this beggar;--I cannot sit down tamely under that.--Stay,--
haud a wee.--By the blood, I have it.--Yes--I have hit upon it.--I'll have
the wench smuggled till the highlands of Scotland to-morrow morning.--Yes,
yes,--I'll have her smuggled--

    _Enter_ BETTY HINT.

_Bet._ O! sir,--I have got the whole secret out.

_Sir Per._ About what?

_Bet._ About Miss Constantia. I have just got all the particulars from
farmer Hilford's youngest daughter, Sukey Hilford.

_Sir Per._ Weel, weel, but what is the story? Quick, quick--what is it?

_Bet._ Why, sir, it is certain that Mrs. Constantia has a sweetheart--or
a husband,--a sort of a gentleman--or a gentleman's gentleman, they don't
know which--that lodges at Gaffer Hodges's--and it is whispered all about
the village that she is with child by him; for Sukey says she saw them
together last night in the dark walk--and Mrs. Constantia was all in
tears.

_Sir Per._ Zoons! I am afraid this is too guid news to be true.

_Bet._ O! sir, 'tis certainly true, for I myself have observed that she
has looked very pale for some time past--and could not eat,--and has
qualms every hour of the day.--Yes, yes, sir--depend upon it, she is
breeding, as sure as my name is Betty Hint..--Besides, sir, she has just
writ a letter to her gallant, and I have sent John Gardener to her, who is
to carry it to him to Hadley.--Now, sir, if your worship would seize it--
See, see, sir,--here John comes with the letter in his hand.

_Sir Per._ Step you out, Betty, and leave the fellow till me.

_Bet._ I will, sir.      [_Exit._

    _Enter_ JOHN, _with a Packet and a Letter._

_John._ [_Putting the packet into his pocket._] There--go you into my
pocket.--There's nobody in the library, so I'll e'en go thro' the short
way.--Let me see, what is the name?--Mel--Meltil--O, no!--Melville, at
Gaffer Hodges's.

_Sir Per._ What letter is that, sir?

_John._ Letter,sir!

_Sir Per._ Give it me, sir.

_John._ An't please you, sir, it is not mine.

_Sir Per._ Deliver it this instant, sirrah, or I'll break your head.

_John._ [_Giving the letter._] There, there your honour.

_Sir Per._ Begone, rascal.--This, I suppose, will let us intill the whole
business.

_John._ [_Aside._.] You have got the letter, old surly, but the packet is
safe in my pocket. I'll go and deliver that, however, for I will be true
to poor Mrs. Constantia in spite of you.      [_Exit._

_Sir Per._ [_Reading the letter._] Um--um 'and bless my eyes with the
sight of you.'--Um--um 'throw myself into your dear arms.' Zoons! 'this
letter is invaluable.---Aha! madam--yes--this will do--this will do, I
think.--Let me see, how is it directed--'To Mr. Melville.' Vary weel.
    [_Enter_ Betty.]
O! Betty, you are an excellent wench,--this letter is worth a million.

_Bet._ Is it as I suspected?--to her gallant?

_Sir Per._ It is--it is.--Bid Constantia pack out of the house this
instant--and let them get a chaise ready to carry her wherever she
pleases.--But first send my wife and son hither.

_Bet._ I shall, sir.

_Sir Per._ Do so--begone. [_Exit_ Betty.] Aha! Maister Charles,--I believe
I shall cure you of your passion for a beggar now.--I think he cannot be
so infatuated as to be a dupe till a strumpet.--Let me see--how am I to
act now?--Why, like a true politician, I must pretend most sincerity
where I intend most deceit.

    _Enter_ EGERTON, _and Lady_ MACSYCOPHANT.

Weel, Charles, notwithstanding the misery you have brought upon me,--I
have sent for you and your mother in order to convince you both of my
affection and my readiness to forgive,--nay, and even to indulge your
perverse passion:--for, since I find this Constantia has got hold of your
heart, and that your mother and you think that you can never be happy
without her, why, I'll nai longer oppose your inclinations.

_Eger._ Dear sir, you snatch me from sharpest misery;--on my knees let my
heart thank you for this goodness.

_Lady Mac._ Let me express my thanks too,--and my joy;--for had you not
consented to his marrying her, we all should have been miserable.

_Sir Per._ Weel; I am glad I have found a way to please you both at
last.--But, my dear Charles, suppose now that this spotless vestal,--this
wonder of virtue,--this idol of your heart--shou'd be a concealed wanton
after aw,--or shou'd have an engagement of marriage or an intrigue with
another man,--and is only making a dupe of you aw this time:--I say, only
suppose it, Charles--what wou'd you think of her?

_Eger._ I should think her the most deceitful, and the most subtle of her
sex, and, if possible, would never think of her again.

_Sir Per._ Will you give me your honour of that?

_Eger._ Most solemnly, sir.

_Sir Per._ Enough.--I am satisfied,--You make me young again.--Your
prudence has brought tears of joy fra my very vitals.--I was afraid you
were fascinated with the charms of a crack.--Do you ken this hand?

_Eger._ Mighty well, sir.

_Sir Per._ And you, madam.

_Lady Mac._ As well as I do my own, sir.--It is Constantia's.

_Sir Per._ It is so; and a better evidence it is than any that can be
given by the human tongue. Here is a warm, rapturous, lascivious letter
under the hypocritical syren's ain hand--her ain hand, sir.

_Eger._ Pray, sir, let us hear it.

_Sir Per._ Ay, ay;--here--take and read it yourself.--Eloisa never writ a
warmer nor a ranker to her Abelard--but judge yourselves.

_Eger._ [_Reads._] 'I have only time to tell you, that the family came
down sooner than I expected, and that I cannot bless my eyes with the
sight of you till the evening.--The notes, and jewels, which the bearer
of this will deliver to you, were presented to me, since I saw you, by the
son of my benefactor'--

_Sir Per._ [_Interrupts him by his remarks._] Now mark.

_Eger._ [_Reads._] 'All which I beg you will convert to your immediate
use'--

_Sir Per._ Mark, I say.

_Eger._ [_Reads._] 'For my heart has no room for any wish or fortune,
but what contributes to your relief and happiness'--

_Sir Per._ Oh! Charles, Charles, do you see, sir, what a dupe she makes
of you? But mark what follows.

_Eger._ [_Reads._] 'O! how I long to throw myself into your dear, dear
arms; to sooth your fears, your apprehensions, and your sorrows'--

_Sir Per._ I suppose the spark has heard of your offering to marry her,
and is jealous of you.

_Eger._ Sir, I can only say I am astonished.

_Lady Mac._ It is incredible.

_Sir Per._ Stay, stay, read it out--read it out, pray: ah! she is a subtle
devil.

_Eger._ [_Reads._] 'I have something to tell you of the utmost moment,
but will reserve it till we meet this evening in the dark walk'--

_Sir Per._ In the dark walk--in the dark walk--ah! an evil-eyed curse
upon her! yes, yes! she has been often in the dark walk, I believe:--But,
read on.

_Eger._ [_Reads._] 'In the mean time banish all fears, and hope the
best from fortune, and your ever dutiful CONSTANTIA HARRINGTON.'

_Sir Per._ There--there's a warm epistle for you! in short, the hussy,
you must know, is married till the fellow.

_Eger._ Not unlikely, sir.

_Lady Mac._ Indeed, by her letter, I believe she is.

_Sir Per._ Nay, I know she is: but look at the hand--peruse it--convince
yourselves.

_Eger._ Yes, yes, it is her hand; I know it well, sir.

_Sir Per._ Madam, will you look at it? perhaps it may be forged.

_Lady Mac._ No, sir, it is no forgery.--Well! after this, I think I shall
never trust human nature.

_Sir Per._ Now, madam, what amends can you make me for countenancing your
son's passion for sic a strumpet? And you, sir, what have you to say for
your disobedience and your frenzy? O! Charles, Charles--

_Eger._ Pray, sir, be patient; compose yourself a moment: I will make you
any compensation in my power.

_Sir Per._ Then instantly sign the articles of marriage.

_Eger._ The lady, sir, has never yet been consulted; and I have some
reason to believe that her heart is engaged to another man.

_Sir Per._ Sir, that is nai business of yours.--I know she will consent
and that's aw we are to consider.--O! here comes my lord.

    _Enter Lord_ LUMBERCOURT.

_Lord Lum._ Sir Pertinax, ever thing is ready, and the lawyers wait for
us.

_Sir Per._ We attend your lordship. Where is Lady Rodolpha?

_Lord Lum._ Giving some female consolation to poor Constantia.--Why,
my lady, ha, ha, ha! I hear your vestal has been flirting.

_Sir Per._ Yes, yes, my lord, she is in vary guid order for any man
that wants a wife and an heir till his estate intill the bargain.

    _Enter_ SAM.

_Sam._ Sir, there is a man below that wants to speak to your honour
upon particular business.

_Sir Per._ Sir, I cannot speak till any body now--he must come another
time;--hand--stay--what--is he a gentleman?

_Sam._ He looks something like one, sir--a sort of a gentleman--but
he seems to be in a kind of a passion, for when I asked his name, he
answered hastily, it is no matter, friend,--go, tell your master there is
a gentleman here that _must_ speak to him directly.

_Sir Per._ Must! ha? vary peremptory indeed; pr'ythee, let's see him
for curiosity sake.      [_Exit_ Sam.

    _Enter Lady_ RODOLPHA.

_Lady Rod._ O! my Lady Macsycophant, I am come an humble advocate
for a weeping piece of female frailty, wha begs she may be permitted
to speak till your ladyship, before you finally reprobate her.

_Sir Per._ I beg your pardon, Lady Rodolpha, but it must not be:
see her she shall not.

_Lady Mac._ Nay, there can be no harm, my dear, in hearing what she has to
say for herself.

_Sir Per._ I tell you, it shall not be.

_Lady Mac._ Well, my dear, I have done.

    _Enter_ SAM _and_ MELVILLE.

_Sam._ Sir, that is my master.

_Sir Per._ Weel, sir, what is your urgent business with me?

_Mel._ To shun disgrace, and punish baseness.

_Sir Per._ Punish baseness! what does the fellow mean? Wha are you, sir?

_Mel._ A man, sir--and one, whose fortune once bore as proud a sway as any
within this county's limits.

_Lord Lum._ You seem to be a soldier, sir.

_Mel._ I was, sir; and have the soldier's certificate to prove my
service--rags and scars. In my heart, for ten long years in India's
parching clime I bore my country's cause; and in noblest dangers sustained
it with my sword: at length ungrateful peace has laid me down where
welcome war first took me up,--in poverty, and the dread of cruel
creditors.--Paternal affection brought me to my native land, in quest of
an only child:--I found her, as I thought, amiable as parental fondness
could desire; but lust and foul seduction have snatched her from me,
and hither am I come, fraught with a father's anger, and a soldier's
honour, to seek the seducer and glut revenge.

_Lady Mac._ Pray, sir, who is your daughter?

_Mel._ I blush to own her--but--Constantia.

_Eger._ Is Constantia your daughter, sir?

_Mel._ She is; and was the only comfort that nature, fortune, or my own
extravagance had left me.

_Sir Per._ Guid traith, then, I fancy you will find but vary little
comfort fra her, for she is nai better than she shou'd be.--She has had
nai damage in this mansion. I am told she is with bairn, but you may gang
till Hadley, till one farmer Hodges's, and there you may learn the whole
story, and wha the father of the bairn is, fra a cheeld they call
Melville.

_Mel._ Melville!

_Sir Per._ Yes, sir, Melville.

_Mel._ O! would to heaven she had no crime to answer, but her commerce
with Melville.--No, sir, he is not the man; it is your son, your Egerton,
that has seduced her; and here, sir, are the evidence of his seduction.

_Eger._ Of my seduction!

_Mel._ Of yours, sir, if your name be Egerton.

_Eger._ I am that man, sir; but pray, what is your evidence?

_Mel._ These bills, and these gorgeous jewels, not to be had in her menial
state, but at the price of chastity.--Not an hour since she sent them--
impudently sent them--by a servant of this house--contagious infamy
started from their touch.

_Eger._ Sir, perhaps you may be mistaken concerning the terms on which she
received them.--Do you but clear her conduct with Melville, and I will
instantly satisfy your fears concerning the jewels and her virtue.

_Mel._ Sir, you give me new life: you are my better angel. I believe in
your words--your looks:--know then, I am that Melville.

_Sir Per._ How, sir! you that Melville, that was at farmer Hodges's?

_Mel._ The same, sir: it was he brought my Constantia to my arms; lodged
and secreted me--once my lowly tenant--now my only friend. The fear of
inexorable creditors made me change my name from Harrington to Melville,
till I could see and consult some who once called themselves my friends.

_Eger._ Sir, suspend your fears and anger but for a few minutes; I will
keep my word with you religiously, and bring your Constantia to your arms,
as virtuous, and as happy as you could wish her.    [_Exit with Lady_ Mac.

_Sir Per._ The clearing up of this wench's virtue is damned unlucky: I am
afraid it will ruin aw our affairs again:--However, I have one stroke
still in my head that will secure the bargain with my lord, let matters
gang as they will. [_Aside._] But I wonder, Maister Melville, that you did
nai pick up some little matter of siller in the Indies; ah! there have
been bonny fortunes snapt up there, of late years, by some of the military
blades.

_Mel._ It is very true, sir: but it is an observation among soldiers, that
there are some men who never meet with any thing in the service but blows
and ill fortune.--I was one of those, even to a proverb.

_Sir Per._ Ah! 'tis pity, sir, a great pity now, that you did nai get a
Mogul, or some sic an animal, intill your clutches. Ah! I should like to
have the strangling of a Nabob, the rummaging of his gold dust, his jewel
closet, and aw his magazines of bars and ingots. Ha, ha, ha!--guid traith
naw, sic an a fellow would be a bonny cheeld to bring till this town, and
to exhibit him riding on an elephant: upon honour, a man might raise a
poll-tax by him, that would gang near to pay the debts of the nation.

    _Enter_ EGERTON, CONSTANTIA, _Lady_ MACSYCOPHANT, _and_ SIDNEY.

_Eger._ Sir, I promised to satisfy your fears concerning your daughter's
virtue; and my best proof to you, and all the world, that I think her not
only the most chaste, but the most deserving of her sex, is, that I have
made her the partner of my heart, and the tender guardian of my earthly
happiness for life.

_Sir Per._ How! married!

_Eger._ I know, sir, at present we shall meet your anger; but time,
reflection, and our dutiful conduct, we hope, will reconcile you to our
happiness.

_Sir Per._ Never, never--and could I make you, her, and aw your issue,
beggars, I would move hell, heaven, and earth, to do it.

_Lord Lum._ Why, Sir Pertinax, this is a total revolution, and will
entirely ruin my affairs.

_Sir Per._ My lord, with the consent of your lordship, and Lady Rodolpha,
I have an expedient to offer, that will not only punish that rebellious
villain, but answer every end that your lordship and the lady proposed by
the intended match with him.

_Lord Lum._ I doubt it much, Sir Pertinax--I doubt it much:--But what is
it, sir?--What is your expedient?

_Sir Per._ My lord, I have another son, and, provided the lady and your
lordship have nai objection till him, every article of that rebel's
intended marriage shall be amply fulfilled upon Lady Rodolpha's union with
my younger son.

_Lord Lum._ Why that is an expedient indeed, Sir Pertinax.--But what say
you, Rodolpha?

_Lady Rod._ Nay, nay, my lord, as I had nai reason to have the least
affection till my cousin Egerton, and as my intended marriage with him was
entirely an act of obedience till my grandmother, provided my cousin Sandy
will be as agreeable till her ladyship as my cousin Charles here wou'd
have been,--I have nai the least objection till the change. Ay, ay! one
brother is as guid till Rodolpha as another.

_Sir Per._ I'll answer, madam, for your grandmother.--Now, my lord, what
say you?

_Lord Lum._ Nay, Sir Pertinax, so the agreement stands, all is right
again. Come, child, let us begone.--Ay, ay, so my affairs are made easy,
it is equal to me whom she marries.--I say, Sir Pertinax, let them be but
easy, and rat me, if I care if she concorporates with the Cham of Tartary.
[_Exit._

_Sir Per._ As to you, my Lady Macsycophant, I suppose you concluded,
before you gave your consent till this match, that there wou'd be an end
of aw intercourse betwixt you and me.--Live with your Constantia, madam,
your son, and that black sheep there.--Live with them.--You shall have a
jointure, but not a bawbee besides, living or dead, shall you, or any of
your issue, ever see of mine;--and so, my vengeance light upon you aw
together.      [_Exit._

_Lady Rod._ Weel, cousin Egerton, in spite of the ambitious frenzy of your
father, and the thoughtless dissipation of mine, Don Cupid has at last
carried his point in favour of his devotees.--But I must now take my
leave.--Lady Macsycophant, your most obedient.--Maister Sidney, yours.--
Permit me, Constantia, to have the honour of congratulating myself on our
alliance.

_Con._ Madam, I shall ever study to deserve and to return this kindness.

_Lady Rod._ I am sure you will.--But ah!--I neglect my poor Sandy aw this
while! and, guid traith, mine ain heart begins to tell me what his feels,
and chides me for tarrying so long.--I will therefore fly till him on the
wings of love and guid news;--for I am sure the poor lad is pining with
the pip of expectation and anxious jeopardy. And so, guid folks, I will
leave you with the fag end of an auld North-Country wish:--'May mutual
love and guid humour be the guests of your hearts, the theme of your
tongues, and the blithsome subjects of aw your tricksey dreams through the
rugged road of this deceitful world; and may our fathers be an example
till ourselves to treat our bairns better than they have treated us.'
[_Exit._

_Eger._ You seem melancholy, sir.

_Mel._ These precarious turns of fortune, sir, will press upon the
heart,--for, notwithstanding my Constantia's happiness, and mine in hers--
I own I cannot help feeling some regret, that my misfortunes should be the
cause of any disagreement between a father, and the man to whom I am under
the most endearing obligations.

_Eger._ You have no share in his disagreement; for had not you been born,
from my father's nature, some other cause of his resentment must have
happened.--But for a time at least, sir, and, I hope, for life, affliction
and angry vicissitudes have taken their leaves of us all.--If affluence
can procure content and ease, they are within our reach.--My fortune is
ample, and shall be dedicated to the happiness of this domestic circle.--

  _My scheme, tho' mock'd by knave, coquet, and fool,
  To thinking minds will prove this golden rule;
  In all pursuits, but chiefly in a wife,
  Not wealth, but morals, make the happy life._


FINIS.



William Andrews Clark Memorial Library: University of California

THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

_General Editors_

H. RICHARD ARCHER
William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

E.N. HOOKER
University of California, Los Angeles

R.C. BOYS
University of Michigan

JOHN LOFTIS
University of California, Los Angeles

The society exists to make available inexpensive reprints (usually
facsimile reproductions) of rare seventeenth and eighteenth century works.

The editorial policy of the Society continues unchanged. As in the past,
the editors welcome suggestions concerning publications.

All correspondence concerning subscriptions in the United States and
Canada should be addressed to the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library,
2205 West Adams Blvd., Los Angeles 18, California. Correspondence
concerning editorial matters may be addressed to any of the general
editors. Membership fee continues $2.50 per year. British and European
subscribers should address B.H. Blackwell, Broad Street, Oxford, England.

Publications for the fifth year [1950-1951]
(_At least six items, most of them from the following list, will be
reprinted_.)

FRANCES REYNOLDS (?): _An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Taste, and
of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty_, &_c._ (1785). Introduction by James
L. Clifford.

THOMAS BAKER: _The Fine Lady's Airs_ (1709). Introduction by John
Harrington Smith.

DANIEL DEFOE: _Vindication of the Press_ (1718). Introduction by Otho
Clinton Williams.

JOHN EVELYN: _An Apologie for the Royal Party_ (1659); _A Panegyric to
Charles the Second_ (1661). Introduction by Geoffrey Keynes.

CHARLES MACKLIN: _Man of the World_ (1781). Introduction by Dougald
MacMillan.

_Prefaces to Fiction_. Selected and with an Introduction by Benjamin
Boyce.

THOMAS SPRAT: _Poems_.

SIR WILLIAM PETTY: _The Advice of W.P. to Mr. Samuel Hartlib for the
Advancement of some particular Parts of Learning_ (1648).

THOMAS GRAY: _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751). (Facsimile
of first edition and of portions of Gray's manuscripts of the poem).

       *       *       *       *       *

To The Augustan Reprint Society
_William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
_2205 West Adams Boulevard_
_Los Angeles 18, California_

_Subscriber's Name and Address_:
_____________________________________
_____________________________________
_____________________________________

_As_ MEMBERSHIP FEE _I enclose for the years marked_:

The current year                        $2.50
The current & the 4th year               5.00
The current, 3rd, & 4th year             7.50
The current, 2nd, 3rd, & 4th year       10.00
The current, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, & 4th year  11.50
(_Publications No. 3 & 4 are out of print_)

Make check or money order payable to THE REGENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF
CALIFORNIA.

NOTE: _All income of the Society is devoted to defraying cost of printing
and mailing._



    PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

First Year (1946-1947)

1. Richard Blackmore's _Essay upon Wit_ (1716), and Addison's _Freeholder_
No. 45 (1716).

2. Samuel Cobb's _Of Poetry_ and _Discourse on Criticism_ (1707).

3. _Letter to A.H. Esq.; concerning the Stage_ (1698), and Richard Willis'
_Occasional Paper No. IX_ (1698). (OUT OF PRINT)

4. _Essay on Wit_ (1748), together with Characters by Flecknoe, and Joseph
Warton's _Adventurer_ Nos. 127 and 133. (OUT OF PRINT)

5. Samuel Wesley's _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700) and
_Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693).

6. _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_ (1704) and
_Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704).


Second Year (1947-1948)

7. John Gay's _The Present State of Wit_ (1711); and a section on Wit from
_The English Theophrastus_ (1702).

8. Rapin's _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech (1684).

9. T. Hanmer's (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_  (1736).

10. Corbyn Morris' _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc._
(1744).

11. Thomas Purney's _Discourse on the Pastoral_ (1717).

12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood
Krutch.


Third Year (1948-1949)

13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), _The Theatre_ (1720).

14. Edward Moore's _The Gamester_ (1753).

15. John Oldmixon's _Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley_ (1712);
and Arthur Mainwaring's _The British Academy_ (1712).

16. Nevil Payne's _Fatal Jealousy_ (1673).

17. Nicholas Rowe's _Some Account of the Life of Mr. William Shakespear_
(1709).

18. Aaron Hill's-Preface to _The Creation_; and Thomas Brereton's Preface
to _Esther_.


Fourth Year (1949-1950)

19. Susanna Centlivre's _The Busie Body_ (1709).

20. Lewis Theobald's _Preface to The Works of Shakespeare_ (1734).

21. _Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Gradison, Clarissa, and Pamela_
(1754).

22. Samuel Johnson's _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749) and Two
_Rambler_ papers (1750).

23. John Dryden's _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681).

24. Pierre Nicole's _An Essay on True and Apparent Beauty in Which from
Settled Principles is Rendered the Grounds for Choosing and Rejecting
Epigrams,_ translated by J.V. Cunningham.





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