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Lady Rus. Are you piqued, my young madam? Had my sister, Louisa, yielded to the addresses of one of Major O'Flaherty's person and appearance, she would have had some excuse : but to run away, as she did, at the age of sixteen too, with a man of old Dudley's sort

Char. Was, in my opinion, the most venial trespass that ever girl of sixteen committed; of a noble family, an engaging person, strict honour, and sound understanding, what accomplishment was there wanting in Captain Dudley, but that which the prodigality of his ancestors had deprived him of?

your nephew; how can you oppress a youth of his sensibility?

Lady Rus. Miss Rusport, I insist upon your retiring to your apartment: when I want your advice, I'll send to you. [Erit CHARLOTTE.] 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 masLady Rus. Well, well; take your own course; 'tis no concern of mine: you never consulted me.

Lady Rus. They left him as much as he descrves: Hasn't the old man captain's half pay?ter. And is not the son an ensign?

Char. An ensign! Alas, poor Charles! Would to Heaven he knew what my heart feels and suffers, for his sake!

Enter Servant.

Ser. Ensign Dudley, to wait upon your ladyship.

Lady Rus. Who? Dudley? What can have brought him to town?

Char. Dear madam, 'tis Charles Dudley; 'tis your nephew.

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Lady Rus. Nephew! I renounce him as my nephew! Sir Oliver renounced him as his grandWasn't he son of the eldest daughter, and only male descendant of sir Oliver? and didn't he cut him off with a shilling? Didn't the poor, dear, good man leave his whole fortune to me, except a small annuity to my maiden sister, who spoiled her constitution with nursing him? And, depend 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 come 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 Rus. I hope you have some better excuse than all this.

Charles. 'Tis true, madam, I have other motives; but, if I consider my trouble repaid by the pleasure I now enjoy, I should hope my aunt would not think my company the less welcome for the value I set upon hers.

Lady Rus. Coxcomb! And where is your father, child? and your sister? Are they in town, too?

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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 Rus. 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 fa mily can furnish you with objects of it.

Lady Rus. The distresses of your family, child, are quite out of the question at present: had sir Oliver been pleased to consider them, I should have been well content; but he has abso lutely taken no notice of you in his will, and that, to me, must and shall be a law. 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.

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mantic father suppose that 'I am to abet him in all his idle and extravagant undertakings? Come, major, let me shew you the way into my dressing-room, and let us leave this young adventurer to his meditation. [Erit. 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 poor lad; she's a damned slippery lady, and very apt to jilt us poor fellows, that wear cockades in our hats. Fare thee well, honey, whoever thou art. [Exit. Charles. So much for the virtues of a puritan! Out upon it! her heart is flint; yet that woman, that aunt of mine, without one worthy particle in her composition, would, I dare be sworn, as soon set her foot in a pest house as in a play-house.

[Going.

MISS RUSPORT enters to him. Char. Stop, stay a little, Charles; whither are you going in such haste?

SCENE I.-A room in FULMER's house.

Charles. Madam! Miss Rusport! what are your commands?

Char. Why so reserved? We had used to answer to no other names than those of Charles and Charlotte.

ing.

Charles. What ails you? You have been weep

Char. 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, write me your direction; write it upon the back of this visitingticket-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.

Ser. Madam, my lady desires your company directly.

Char. 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.

ACT II.

Enter FULMER and MRS FULMER. Mrs Ful. WHY, how you sit, musing and moping, sighing and desponding! I'm ashamed 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 Boulogne, out of the noise and bustle of the world, and wholly at my ease; you, indeed, was upon the wing, with a fiery persecution at your back: but, like a true son of Loyola, you had then a thousand ingenious devices to repair your fortune: and this, your native country, was to be the scene of your performances: fool that I was, to be inveigled into it by you! 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: I have tried each walk, and am likely to starve 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 VOL. II.

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 bellowed 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 left off reading; and, if I was to turn butcher, I believe, on my couscience, 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. Egad, I wish I had the leasing of her beauty; what would some of our young nabobs give

Ful. Hush! here comes the captain; good 5 Z

girl leave us to ourselves, and let me try what I gan 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. [Exit MRS FUL.

Enter CAPTAIN DUDLEY. Ful. Captain Dudley, good morning to you! Dud. Mr Fulmer, I have borrowed a book from your shop; 'tis the sixth volume of my deceased friend Tristram: he is a flattering writer to us poor soldiers; and the divine story of Le Fevre, which makes part of this book, in my opinion of it, does honour, not to its author only, but to human nature.

Ful. He's an author I keep in the way of trade, but one I never relished: he is much too loose and profligate for my taste.

Dud. That's being too severe : I hold him to be a moralist in the noblest sense: he plays, indeed, with the fancy, and sometimes, perhaps, too wantonly; but, while he thus designedly masks his main attack, he comes at once upon the heart; refines, amends it, softens it; beats down each selfish barrier from about it, and opens every sluice of pity and benevolence.

Ful. We of the catholic persuasion are not much bound to him.—————Well, sir, I shall not oppose your opinion; a favourite author is like a favourite mistress; and there, you know, captain, no man likes to have his taste arraigned.

Dud. Upon my word, sir, I don't know what a man likes in that case; 'tis an experiment I never made.

Ful. Sir!-Are you serious?

Dud. 'Tis of little consequence whether you think so.

Ful. What a formal old prig it is! [Aside.] I apprehend you, sir; you speak with caution; you are married?

Dud. I have been.

Ful. And this young lady, which accompanies you

Dud. Passes for my daughter.

Ful. Passes for his daughter! humph-[Aside.] She is exceedingly beautiful, finely accomplished, of a most enchanting shape and air.

Dud. You are much too partial; she has the greatest defect a woman can have.

Ful. How so, pray?

Dud. She has no fortune.

Ful. Rather say that you have none; and that's a sore defect in one of your years, Captain Dudley you've served, no doubt?

Dud. Familiar coxcomb! But I'll humour him.

[Aside. Ful. A close old fox! But I'll unkennel him. [Aside. Dud. Above thirty years I've been in the service, Mr Fulmer.

Ful. I guessed as much; I laid it at no less: why, 'tis a wearisome time; 'tis an apprenticeship

to a profession, fit only for a patriarch. But preferment must be closely followed: you never could have been so far behind-hand in the chase, unless you had palpably mistaken your way. You'll pardon me; but I begin to perceive you have lived in the world, not with it.

Dud. It may be so; and you, perhaps, can give me better council. I'm now soliciting a favour; an exchange to a company on full pay; nothing more; and yet I meet a thousand bars to that; though, without boasting, I should think the certificate of services, which I sent in, might have purchased that indulgence to me.

Ful. Who thinks or cares about them? Cer tificate of services, indeed! Send in a certificate of your fair daughter; carry her in your hand with you.

Dud. What! Who? My daughter! Carry my daughter! Well, and what then?

Ful. Why, then your fortune's made, that's

all. Dud. I understand you: and this you call knowledge of the world? Despicable knowledge! but, sirrah, I will have you know[Threatening him.

Ful. Help! Who's within? Would you strike me, sir? Would you lift your hand against a man in his own house?

Dud. In a church, if he dare insult the po verty of a man of honour.

Ful. Have a care what you do! remember there is such a thing in law as an assault and battery; ay, and such trifling forms as warrants and indictments.

Dud. Go, sir; you are too mean for my resentment: 'tis that, and not the law, protects you. -Hence!

Ful. An old, absurd, incorrigible blockhead! I'll be revenged of him.

Enter CHARLES DUDLEY.

[Aside. [Exit FUL

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news; I can raise no money, so fatal is the climate alas, that ever my father should be sent to perish in such a place!

LOUISA enters hastily.

Dud. Louisa, what's the matter? frightened!

you seem Lou. I am, indeed: coming from Miss Rusport's, I met a young gentleman in the streets, who has beset me in the strangest manner.

Cha. Insufferable! was he rude to you? Lou. I cannot say he was absolutely rude to me, but he was very importunate to speak to me, and once or twice attempted to lift up my hat: he followed me to the corner of the street, and there I gave him the slip.

Dud. You must walk no more in the streets, child, without me or your brother.

Lou. O, Charles, Miss Rusport desires to see you directly; lady Rusport is gone out, and she has something particular to say to you.

Cha. Have you any commands for me, sir? Dud. None, my dear; by all means wait upon Miss Rusport. Come, Louisa, I shall desire you to go up to your chamber and compose yourself. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter BELCOUR, after peeping in at the door. Bel. Not a soul, as I'm alive! Why, what an ødd sort of a house is this! Confound the little jilt, she has fairly given me the slip. A plague upon this London, I shall have no luck in it: such a crowd, and such a hurry, and such a number of shops, and one so like the other, that whether the wench turned into this house or the next, or whether she went up stairs or down stairs (for there's a world above and a world below, it seeins), I declare, I know no more than if I was in the Blue Mountains. In the name of all the devils at once, why did she run away? If every handsome girl I meet in this town is to lead me such a wild-goose chase, I had better have staid in the torrid zone. I shall be wasted to the size of a sugar-cane. What shall I do? give the chase up! Hang it, that's cowardly. Shall I, a trueborn son of Phoebus, suffer this little nimblefooted Daphne to escape me?- -Forbid it, honour, and forbid it, love.- -Hush, hush

here she comes. -Oh, the devil!What tawdry thing have we got here?

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Bel. Mr Fulmer, madam? I have not the honour of knowing such a person.

Mrs Ful. No, I'll be sworn, have you not; thou art much too pretty a fellow, and too much of a gentleman, to be an author thyself, or to have any thing to say to those that are so. Tis the captain, I suppose, you are waiting for? Bel. I rather suspect it is the captain's wife. Mrs Ful. The captain has no wife, sir.

Bel. No wife! I'm heartily sorry for it; for then, she's his mistress; and that I take to be the more desperate case of the two. Pray, madam, was not there a lady just now turned into your house? Twas with her I wished to speak. Mrs Ful. What sort of a lady, pray?

Bel. One of the loveliest sort my eyes ever beheld; young, tall, fresh, fair; in short, a god

dess.

Mrs Ful. Nay, but dear, dear sir, now I'm sure you flatter: for 'twas me you followed into the shop-door this minute.

Bel. You! No, no, take my word for it, it was not you, madam.

Mrs Ful. But what is it you laugh at? Bel. Upon my soul, I ask your pardon; but it was not you, believe me: be assured, it was

not.

Mrs Ful. Well, sir, I shall not contend for the honour of being noticed by you; I hope you think you would not have been the first man that noticed me in the streets. However, this I'm positive of, that no living woman but myself has entered these doors this morning.

Bel. Why, then, I'm mistaken in the house, that's all; for 'tis not humanly possible I can be so far out in the lady. [Going.

Mrs Ful. Coxcomb! But hold-a thought occurs; as sure as can be, he has seen Miss Dudley. A word with you, young gentleman; come back.

Bel. Well, what's your pleasure?

Mrs Ful. You seem greatly captivated with this young lady; are you apt to fall in love thus at first sight?

Bel. Oh, yes: 'tis the only way I can ever fall in love any man may tumble into a pit by surprise; none but a fool would walk into one by choice.

Mrs Ful. You are a hasty lover, it seems have you spirit to be a generous one? They that will please the eye, must not spare the purse.

Bel. Try me; put me to the proof! bring me to an interview with the dear girl that has thus captivated me, and see whether I have spirit to be grateful.

Mrs Ful. But how, pray, am I to know the girl you have set your heart on?

Bel. By an indescribable grace, that accompanies every look and action that falls from her : there can be but one such woman in the world, and nobody can mistake that one.

Mrs Ful. Well, if I should stumble upon this

sir?

angel in my walks, where am I to find you? | man's; she lives hard by here, opposite to StockWhat's your name? well's, the great merchant; he sent to her a begging, but to no purpose; though she is as rich as a Jew, she would not furnish him with a farthing.

Bel. Upon my soul, I can't tell you my name. Mrs Ful. Not tell me! Why so?

Bel. Because I don't know what it is myself; as yet, I have no name.

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Ful. A fine case, truly, in a free country! a pretty pass things are come to, if a man is to be assaulted in his own house!

Mrs Ful. Who has assaulted you, my dear? Ful. Who? why this captain Drawcansir, this old Dudley, my lodger: but I'll unlodge him; I'll unharbour him, I warrant.

Mrs Ful. Hush! hush! hold your tongue, man; pocket the affront, and be quiet; I've a| scheme on foot will pay you a hundred beatings. Why, you surprise me, Mr Fulmer; Captain Dudley assault you? Impossible!

Ful. Nay, I can't call it an absolute assault; but he threatened me.

Mrs Ful. Oh, was that all? I thought how it would turn out-A likely thing, truly, for a person of his obliging compassionate turn! no, no, poor captain Dudley; he has sorrows and distresses enough of his own to employ his spirits, without setting them against other people. Make it up as fast as you can: watch this gentleman out; follow him wherever he goes; and bring me word who and what he is; be sure you don't lose sight of him; I've other business in hand. [Exit MRS FUL. Bel. Pray, sir, what sorrows and distresses have befallen this old gentleman you speak of? Ful. Poverty, disappointment, and all the distresses attendant thereupon: sorrow enough of all conscience: I soon found how it was with him, by his way of living, low enough of all reason; but what I overheard this morning put it out of all doubt.

Bel. What did you overhear this morning? Ful. Why, it seems he wants to join his regiment, and has been beating the town over to raise a little money for that purpose upon his pay; but the climate, I find, where he is going, is so unhealthy, that nobody can be found to lend him any.

Bel. Why then, your town is a damned goodfor-nothing town: and I wish I had never come

into it.

Bel. Is the captain at home?

Ful. He is up stairs, sir.

Bel. Will you take the trouble to desire him to step hither? I want to speak to him.

Ful. I'll send him to you directly. I don't know what to make of this young man; but, if I live, I will find him out, or know the reason why. [Exit FUL.

-I've

Bel. I've lost the girl, it seems; that's clear: she was the first object of my pursuit; but the case of this poor officer touches me: and, after all, there may be as much true delight in rescuing a fellow-creature from distress, as there would be in plunging one into it-But, let me seeIt's a point that must be managed with some delicacy- Apropos! there's pen and inkstruck upon a method that will do.-[Writes.]— Ay, ay, this is the very thing: 'twas devilish lucky I happened to have these bills about me. There, there, fare you well; I'm glad to be rid of you; you stood a chance of being worse applied, I can tell you. [Encloses and seals the paper. FULMER brings in CAPTAIN DUdley. Ful. That's the gentleman, sir.—I shall make bold, however, to lend an ear. [Erit FUL. Dud. Have you any commands for me, sir? Bel. Your name is Dudley, sir?

Dud. It is.

Bel. You command a company, I think, Cap tain Dudley?

Dud. I did: I am now upon half-pay.

Bel. You've served some time?

Dud. A pretty many years; long enough to see some people of more merit, and better interest than myself, made general officers.

Bel. Their merit I may have some doubt of; their interest I can readily give credit to: there is little promotion to be looked for in your profession, I believe, without friends, captain?

Dud. I believe so, too: have you any other business with me, may I ask?

Bel. Your patience for a moment. I was informed you was about to join your regiment in distant quarters abroad?

Dud. I have been soliciting an exchange to a company on full-pay, quartered at James's Fort, in Senegambia; but, I'm afraid, I must drop the undertaking.

Bel. Why so, pray

?

Dud. Why so, sir? 'Tis a home question for a perfect stranger to put; there is something very particular in all this.

Bel. If it is not impertinent, sir, allow me to ask you what reason you have for despairing of

Ful. That's what I say, sir; the hard-heartedness of some folks is unaccountable. There's an old lady Rusport, a uear relation of this gentle-success.

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