manded reparation of my sister's character by an instant marriage-I was violent-my lord's pride, hurt at a charge, which, perhaps, he did not deserve-a pistol was the umpire-he lost his life, and, in apprehension that a verdict might endanger mine, I was compelled to assume the disguise of a woman, to ef fect my escape. Lack. Bravo! shot a lord! I wing'd a marquis yesterday-poor Rosa! where is she now? Henry. I have lodged her in the convent of Ville neuve. Lack. And have taken the races of Fontainbleau in your way back to Paris? Henry. I'll tell you frankly, though you'll say, rather inconsistent with my present situation; I'm drawn hither purely by the hopes of meeting an amiable young lady, who engaged my conversation at the Sunday opera, in Paris. Lack. Her name?-Good family, eh? Henry. I'm a total stranger to both-talks of her brother's having horses to run, and of their intention of being there at the races. Lepoche. [Without.] Je n'y manquerai pas. Lack. [Aside.] This cursed tailor! now I shall be dunned and pestered! Enter LAPOCHE Lap. Monsieur Lackland, I ville no longer vait for my Lack. [Apart to him.] Hush! I'll make your fortune-A customer, rolling in money. Captain, if you're unprovided with neat lodgings, and a good tailor, here's your man, and there's his house. Lap. Oh, de new customer! bon-speak de goot vort for me. Lack. He has good apartments. Lap. Oh, very goot-Speake more. Lack. I will. [TO LAPOCHE.] This ill-looking little rascal Lap. Much obligé to you. [TO HENRY. Lack. [Apart to HENRY.] If you are slack in cash, [Loud.] you'll find his lodgings convenient. Lap. Very convenient, because Lack. [Apart.] Because when he asks for his money, you may kick him down stairs. Lap. Much obligé to you, sir. [Bows to LACKLAND. - Lack. [Apart.] My way of doing things. [Loud.] Wasn't I a good customer, Lapoche? Lap. Oui, it does a tradesman's heart goot to see you-[Aside.]—outside of his door. Lack. I paid you eight livres a week, wasn't it? Lap. Oui, monsieur, you did-[Aside.]—promise me dat. Lack. [Looking.] Ladies! Must attend where beauty calls-[Pulls down his Ruffles.] My dear Henry, at your time, I am yours; from a beef steak to a bottle of burgundy-can't stay now-you know I was always a Philander among the ladies. Lap. Always great gander among the ladies. [Exit. Lap. Lately from Londres, monsieur? I was vonce great man in Londres; but now I am anoder man. Henry. Another man! what, then, my motley friend, I suppose you have a character for every country? Lap. Oui, I have appear in many character, but Londres vas my grand theatre-Ah! England is de great field of battle for us soldiers of fortune; and ven I could no longer fight my vay Henry. Why, then you Lap. Oui, I ran avay. Ah, monsieur! in England, I vas high, and I vas low-I vas dit, and I vas dat-I vas cook, parfumeur, maitre de langue, juggle, and toos drawer-in short I vas every ting. Henry. And pray, my good friend, what are you now? Lap. I am now myself, in my true charactere-A tailor, à votre service. Henry. A tailor! what, and come here to the races of Fontainbleau, to sport your Louis d'ors upon the jockeys of France? Lap. Non, monsieur, but I am come here to sport de pretty jacket upon de jockeys of France. Ah! I vill show so fine de green jockey, de blue jockey, and de red jockey !-dey may talk of vip and spur, but de beauty of de race come from my shear and timble. Henry. Pray, which is your best hotel here? Lap. Hotel! Ah, monsieur, vy no lodge in my house? So convenient for de single gentilhomme!— [Aside.] I will not tell him of de lady, my lodger, because I love her myself. Henry. Well, I don't know but private lodgings, at this time, may be preferable to the noise and bustle of an hotel. Lap. Eh bien, monsieur, vill you look at my lodg ment ? Henry. With all my heart. Lap. Je vous attend.-[Calls.] Nannette!-And if you like them, you may send your baggage and little ting after you.--Nannette! prepare for de new lodger. [Exeunt. Enter GAGGER, and MRS. CASEY, from Tavern. Gag. This way, Sir John-this way, your honour! Madam, it's Sir John Bull, and Lady Bull, and Miss Bull, and all the family. Sir John. [Without.] I wish, my Lady Bull, you'd let Robin have rolled us up to the door. Mrs. Casey. Ha! upon my honour, it is Sir John Bull and his lady-this is the truth of an English family. C Enter SIR JOHN and LADY BULL, FRENCH INNKEEPER, Four FRENCH PORTERS, with small Bandboxes, &c. Mrs. Casey. Sir John, you are welcome from Paris. Sir J. B. Welcome from Paris! [Mimicking.]— Where the devil are you taking us? Such a way, to walk over your damned pavement! Lady B. Oh fie, Sir John! Do you consider where you are? When English gentlemen come to France, they should leave their dammes at Dover. Sir J. B. I wish I had left you, or myself there, damme!—what are these fellows doing with the things? Lady B. Don't you see, the gentlemen are porters, Sir John? Sir J. B. Porters! pickpockets-paid by the ounce: One Thames Street porter, would take the whole seven and their bundles on his knot; here's a proof— Enter ROBIN, with a very large Trunk. My trunk, Robin ? Rob. Yes, your honour; four of the monsieurs trying to carry it, dropped it in the dirt, yonder. [Puts it down. Lady B. Robin, you must immediately find Colonel Epaulette's lodge, and let him know we are arrived. Sir J. B. Yes, when you've taken care of the trunks-and, d'ye hear, Robin, you'll find Squire Tally-ho there, tell him that I'm come, and that Dolly's longing to see him. [Exit ROBIN.] But where is she? Lady B. Ay, where's Dolly Bull? Enter MISS DOLLY BULL. Miss Dolly B. Here I am, mamma. [To MRS. CASEY.] Ma'am, pray which is the inn? Lady B. Inn! Hotel, miss, if you please. Miss Dolly B. Miss! Mademoiselle, if you please, ma'am. Sir John B. Aha! well said Dolly-there was French upon French. Lady B. Dear sir, which is the hotel? [To FRENCH INNKEEPER. Sir J. B. How cursed polite, to a waiter too! only because he's French. [Aside. French Innk. Dis vay, mademoiselle-I keep de Lily of France. Šir J. B. Let's in, I'm plaguy hungry. [Bowing. French Innk. Ah, monsieur, de nice Vermecelle soup, de bon ragout, and de grande salade. Sir J. B. Ragouts! Pshaw! Mrs. Casey. D'ye hear, George, carry that big piece of roast beef up to the Lion. Sir J. B. [Goes to her.] Ay, and carry me up to the Lion, I like to dine in good company :-Who are you madam? Mrs. Casey. I'm Mrs. Casey, at your service, sir; and I keep this house, the Lion of England. Sir J. B. And are you English? Mrs. Casey. Yes, that I am, born in Dublin; an honest Irish woman, upon my honour. AIR. MRS. CASEY. The British Lion is my sign, And while to me they bring the chink, c 2 |