upon it, not a penny of that fortune shall ever be disposed of otherwise than according to the will of the donor. Enter CHARLES DUDLEY, So, young man, whence came you? What brings you to town? Charles. If there is any offence in my coming to town, your ladyship is in some degree responsible for it, for part of my errand was to pay my duty here. Lady R. And where is your father, child; and your sister? Are they in town too? Charles. They are. Lady R. Ridiculous! I don't know what people do in London, who have no money to spend in it. Miss R. Dear madam, speak more kindly to your nephew; how can you oppress a youth of his sensibility? Lady R. Miss Rusport, I insist upon your retiring to your apartment; when I want your advice, I'll send to you. [Exit Miss Rusport] So you have put on a red coat too, as well as your father; 'tis plain what value you set upon the good advice sir Oliver used to give you: how often has he cautioned you against the army? Charles. Had it pleased my grandfather to enable me to have obeyed his caution, I would have done it; but you well know how destitute I am; and 'tis not to be wondered at if I prefer the service of my king to that of any other master. Lady R. Well, well, take your own course; 'tis no concern of mine: you never consulted me. Charles. I frequently wrote to your ladyship, but could obtain no answer; and, since my grandfather's death, this is the first opportunity I have had of waiting upon you. Lady R. I must desire you not to mention the death of that dear good man in my hearing; my spirits cannot support it. Charles. I shall obey you: permit me to say, that, as that event has richly supplied you with the materials of bounty, the distresses of my family can furnish you with objects of it. Lady R. The distresses of your family, child, are quite out of the question at present. Tell your father and your sister, I totally disapprove of their coming up to town. Charles. Must I tell my father that, before your ladyship knows the motive that brought him hither? Allured by the offer of exchanging for a commission on full pay, the veteran, after thirty years service, prepares to encounter the fatal heats of Senegambia; but wants a small supply to equip him for the expedition. Enter Servant. Serv. Major O'Flaherty, to wait on your ladyship. Enter MAJOR. O'Fla. Spare your speeches, young man; don't you think her ladyship can take my word for that? I hope, madam, 'tis evidence enough of my being present, when I have the honour of telling you so myself. Lady R. Major O'Flaherty, I am rejoiced to see you. Nephew Dudley, you perceive I'm engaged. Charles. shall not intrude upon your ladyship's more agreeable engagements. I presume I have my answer? Lady R. Your answer, child! What answer can you possibly expect? or how can your romantic father suppose that I am to abet him in all his idle and extravagant undertakings? Come, major, let me show you the way into my dressing-room; and let us leave this young adventurer to his meditation. [Exit. she's a O'Fla. I follow you, my lady. Young gentleman, your obedient! Upon my conscience, as fine a young fellow as I would wish to clap my eyes on: he might have answered my salute, however-well, let it pass; Fortune, perhaps, frowns upon the lad; poor damn'd slippery lady, and very apt to jilt us poor fellows that wear cockades in our hats. Fare thee well, honey, whoever thou art. Charles. So much for the virtues of a puritan-out upon it; her heart is flint; yet that woman, that aunt [Exit. of mine, without one worthy particle in her composition, would, I dare be sworn, as soon set her foot in a pesthouse, as in a playhouse. Enter MISS RUSPORT. Miss R. Stop, stay a little, Charles; whither are you going in such haste? Charles. Madam; miss Rusport; what are your commands? Miss R. Why so reserved? We had used to answer to no other names than those of Charles and Charlotte. Charles. What ails you? You have been weeping. Miss R. No, no; or if I have, your eyes are full too; but I have a thousand things to say to you: before you go, tell me, I conjure you, where you are to be found: here, give me your direction; write it upon the back of this visiting ticket-Have you a pencil? Charles. I have: but why should you desire to find us out? 'tis a poor little inconvenient place; my sister has no apartment fit to receive you in. Enter Servant. Serv. Madam, my lady desires your company directly. Miss R. I am coming-well, have you wrote it? Give it me. O, Charles! either you do not or you will not understand me. [Exeunt severally. SCENE I. A Room in FULMER'S House. FULMER discovered seated; MRS. FULMER enters to him. Mrs. Ful. Why, how you sit, musing and moping, sighing and desponding! I'm asham'd of you, Mr. Fulmer: is this the country you described to me, a second Eldorado, rivers of gold and rocks of diamonds? You found me in a pretty snug retired way of life at Bologne, out of the noise and bustle of the world, and wholly at my ease: but, thank heaven, our partnership is revocable; I am not your wedded wife, praised be my stars! for what have we got, whom have we gulled but ourselves? which of all your trains has taken fire? even this poor expedient of your bookseller's shop seems abandoned; for if a chance customer drops in, who is there, pray, to help him to what he wants? Ful. Patty, you know it is not upon slight grounds that I despair; there had used to be a livelihood to be picked up in this country, both for the honest and dishonest: have tried each walk, and am likely to starve B at last: there is not a point to which the wit and faculty of man can turn, that I have not set mine to, but in vain; I am beat through every quarter of the compass. Mrs. Ful. Ah! common efforts all: strike me a master-stroke, Mr. Fulmer, if you wish to make any figure in this country. Ful. But where, how, and what? I have blustered for prerogative; I have bellow'd for freedom; I have offered to serve my country; I have engaged to betray it; a master-stroke, truly! why, I have talked treason, writ treason, and, if a man can't live by that, he can live by nothing. Here I set up as a bookseller, why, men leave off reading; and if I was to turn butcher, I believe, o'my conscience, they'd leave off eating. CAPTAIN DUDLEY crosses the Stage. Mrs. Ful. Why, there now's your lodger, old captain Dudley, as he calls himself; there's no flint without fire; something might be struck out of him, if you had the wit to find the way. Ful. Hang him, an old dry-skinned curmudgeon; you may as well think to get truth out of a courtier, or candour out of a critic: I can make nothing of him; besides, he's poor, and therefore not for our purpose. Mrs. Ful. The more fool he! Would any man be poor, that had such a prodigy in his possession? Ful. His daughter, you mean; she is, indeed, uncommonly beautiful. Mrs. Ful. Beautiful! Why, she need only be seen, to have the first men in the kingdom at her feet. What would some of our young nabobs give -? Ful. Hush! here comes the captain; good girl, leave us to ourselves, and let me try what I can make of him. Mrs. Ful. Captain, truly! i'faith I'd have a regiment, had I such a daughter, before I was three months older. [Erit. Enter CAPTAIN DUDLEY. Ful. Captain Dudley, good morning to you. |