they will take all the care in their power, that I shall not find them out-But I may be too hard for you yet, young gentlewoman! I have earned but a poor livelihood by mere scandal and abuse ; but if I could once arrive at doing a little substantial mischief, I should make my fortune. Enter MRS GOODMAN. Spat. Very easily-I have correspondence everywhere. As private as she may think her-Oh! your servant, Mrs Goodman! Yours is the self, it is not the first time that I have seen or heard of Amelia. Mol. Oh gracious! as sure as I am alive this man will discover us! [Apart.] Mr Spatter, my dear Mr Spatter if you know any thing, sure you would not be so cruel as to betray us! Spat. My dear Mr Spatter! O ho! I have guessed right-there is something then? Mol. No, sir, there is nothing at all; nothing that signifies to you or any body else. Spat. Well, well. I'll say nothing; but then, you must Mol. What? Spat. Come; kiss me, hussy! most unsociable lodging-house in town. So many ladies, and only one gentleman! and you won't take the least notice of him. Mrs Good. How so, Mr Spatter ? Spat. Why, did not you promise to introduce me to Amelia? Mrs Good. To tell you the plain truth, Mr Spatter, she don't like you. And, indeed, I don't know how it is, but you make yourself a great many enemies. Spat. Yes; I believe I do raise a little envy. Mrs Good. Indeed you are mistaken, sir. As you are a lodger of mine, it makes me quite uneasy to hear what the world says of you. How do you contrive to make so many enemies, Mr Mol. I say kiss you, indeed! Spat. And you'll introduce me to your mis- Spatter? tress? Mol. Not I, I promise you. Spat. Nay, no mysteries between you and me, child! Come; here's the key to all locks, the clue to every maze, and the discloser of all secrets; money, child! Here, take this purse; you see I know something; tell me the rest, and I have the fellow to it in my pocket. Mol. Ha, ha, ha! poor Mr Spatter! Where could you get all this money, I wonder! Not by your poetries, I believe. But what signifies telling you any thing, when you are acquainted with our whole history already? You have correspondence everywhere, you know. There, sir! take up your filthy purse again, and remember, that I scorn to be obliged to any body but my mistress. Spat. There's impudence for you! when, to my certain knowledge, your mistress has not a guinea in the world; you live in continual fear of being discovered; and you will both be utterly undone in a fortnight, unless lord Falbridge should prevent it, by taking Amelia under his protection. You understand me, child? Mol. You scandalous wretch! Did you ever hear such a monster? I won't stay a moment longer with him-But you are quite mistaken about me and my mistress, I assure you, sir. We are in the best circumstances in the world; we have nothing to fear; and we don't care a farthing for you-So your servant, Mr Poet! [Erit. Spat. Your servant, Mrs Pert! "We are in the best circumstances in the world." Ay, that is as much as to say, they are in the utmost distress. "We have nothing to fear."-That is, they are frightened out of their wits-" And we don't care a farthing for you."-Meaning, that Spat. Because I have merit, Mrs Goodman. Mrs Good. May be so; but nobody will allow it but yourself. They say that you set up for a wit, indeed; but that you deal in nothing but scandal, and think of nothing but mischief. Spat. I do speak ill of the men sometimes, to be sure; but then, I have a great regard for women-provided they are handsome: and, that I may give you a proof of it, introduce me to Amelia. Mrs Good. You must excuse me; she and you would be the worst company in the world; for she never speaks too well of herself, nor the least ill of any body else. And then her virtue— Spat. Pooh, pooh! she speaks ill of nobody, because she knows nobody; and as for her virtue, ha, ha! Mrs Good. You don't believe much in that, I suppose? Spat. I have not overmuch faith, Mrs Goodman. Lord Falbridge, perhaps, may give a better account of it. Mrs Good. Lord Falbridge can say nothing but what would be extremely to her honour, I assure you, sir. [SPATTER laughs.] Well, well, you may laugh, but it is very true. Spat. Oh, I don't doubt it; but you don't tell the whole truth, Mrs Goodman. When any of your friends or acquaintance sit for their pictures, you draw a very flattering likeness. All characters have their dark side; and if they have but one eye, you give them in profile. Your great friend, Mr Freeport, for instance, whom you are always praising for his benevolent actions Mrs Good. He is benevolence itself, sir. ber him these many years. He always cancels an obligation by the manner of conferring it; and does you a favour, as if he were going to knock you down. Mrs Good. A truce with your satire, good Mr Spatter! Mr Freeport is my best friend; I owe him every thing; and I can't endure the slightest reflection on his character. Besides, he can have given no offence to Lady Alton, 'whatever may be the case with Amelia. Spat. Lady Alton! she is a particular friend of mine to be sure; but, between you and me, Mrs Goodman, a more ridiculous character than any you have mentioned. A bel esprit forsooth! and as vain of her beauty as learning, without any great portion of either. A fourth grace, and a tenth muse! who fancies herself enamoured of Lord Falbridge, because she would be proud of such a conquest; and has lately bestowed some marks of distinction on me, because she thinks it will give her credit among persons of letters. Mrs Good. Nay, if you can't spare your own friends, I don't wonder at your attacking mineand so, sir, your humble servant. But stay! here's a post-chaise stopped at our door; and here comes a servant with a portmanteau. Tis the gentleman for whom my first floor was taken, I suppose. : Spat. Very likely well, you will introduce me to him at least, Mrs Goodman. Enter a Servant with a portmanteau-SIR WILLIAM DOUGLAS following. Sir Wil. Lordship! I am no lord, sir, and must beg not to be honoured with the name. Spat. It is a kind of mistake, that cannot displease at least. Sir Wil. I don't know that. None but a fool would be vain of a title, if he had one; and none but an impostor would assume a title, to which he has no right. Spat. Oh, you're of the house of commons, then, a member of parliament, and are come up to town to attend the sessions, I suppose, sir? Sir Wil. No matter what I am, sir. Spat. Nay, no offence, I hope, sir. All I meant was to do you honour. Being concerned in two evening posts, and one morning paper, I was willing to know the proper manner of announcing your arrival. Sir Wil. You have connexions with the press, then, it seems, sir? Spat. Yes, sir; I am an humble retainer to the Muses, an author. I compose pamphlets on all subjects, compile magazines, and do newspapers. Sir Wil. Do newspapers! What do you inean by that, sir? Spat. That is, sir, I collect the articles of news from the other papers, and make new ones for the postscript; translate the mails, write occasional letters from Cato and Theatricus, and give fictitious answers to supposed correspondents. Sir Wil. A very ingenious, as well as honourable employment, I must confess, sir. Spat. Some little genius is requisite, to be sure. Now, sir, if I can be of any use to you Sir Wil. You are Mrs Goodman, I suppose, if you have any friend to be praised, or any enemadam? Mrs Good. At your service, sir. my to be abused; any author to cry up, or minister to run down; my pen and talents are en Sir Wil. Mr Owen, I believe, has secured tirely at your service. apartments here? Mrs Good. He has, sir. Sir Wil. They are for me, madam-Have you any other lodgers? Mrs Good. Only that gentleman, sir; and a young lady Spat. Of great beauty and virtue. Eh, Mrs Goodman? Mrs Good. She has both, sir; but you will see very little of her, for she lives in the most retired manner in the world. Sir Wil. Her youth and beauty are matter of great indifference to me; for I shall be as much a recluse as herself.-Is there any news at present stirring in London? Mrs Good. Mr Spatter can inform you, sir, for he deals in news. In the mean while, I'll prepare your apartments. [Exit, followed by the servant.SIR WILLIAM walks up and down, without taking notice of SPATTER. Spat. [Aside] This must be a man of quality, by his ill manners. I'll speak to him.Will your lordship give me leave [To SIR WILLIAM. Sir Wil. I am much obliged to you, sir; but, at present, I have not the least occasion for either. In return for your genteel offers, give me leave to trouble you with one piece of advice. When you deal in private scandal, have a care of the cudgel; and when you meddle with public matters, beware of the pillory. Spat. How, sir! are you no friend to literature? Are you an enemy to the liberty of the press? Sir Wil. I have the greatest respect for both; but railing is the disgrace of letters, and personal abuse the scandal of freedom: foul-mouthed critics are, in general, disappointed authors; and they, who are the loudest against ministers, only mean to be paid for their silence. Spat. That may be sometimes, sir; but give me leave to ask you Sir Wil. Do not ask me at present, sir! I see a particular friend of mine coming this way, and I must beg you to withdraw! to Spat. Withdraw, sir! first of all, allow me Sir Wil. Nay, no reply! we must be in pri[Thrusting out SPATTER. vate. VOL. II. 5 R What a wretch! as contemptible as mischievous. Our generous mastiffs fly at men from an instinct of courage; but this fellow's attacks proceed from an instinct of baseness—But here comes the faithful Owen, with as many good qualities as that execrable fellow seems to have bad ones. Enter OWEN. Well, Owen; I am safe arrived, you see. Owen. Ah, sir! would to heaven you were as safe returned again! Have a care of betraying yourself to be sir William Douglas !-During your stay here, your name is Ford, remember. Sir Wil. I shall take care--But tell me your news-What have you done since your arrival? Have you heard any thing of my daughter? Have you seen lord Brumpton? Has he any hope of obtaining my pardon? Owen. He had, sir. Owen. Be advised; depart, and leave that care to me. Consider, your life is now at stake. Sir Wil. My life has been too miserable to render me very solicitous for its preservation— But the complection of the times is changed; the very name of the party, in which I was unhappily engaged, is extinguished, and the whole nation is unanimously devoted to the throne. Disloyalty and insurrection are now no more, and the sword of justice is suffered to sleep. If I can find my child, and find her worthy of me, I will fly with her to take refuge in some foreign country; if I am discovered in the search, I have still some hopes of mercy. Owen. Heaven grant your hopes may be well founded! Sir Wil. Come, Owen! let us behave at least with fortitude in our adversity! Follow me to my apartment, and let us consult what measures Sir Wil. And what can have destroyed it, we shall take in searching for Amelia. [Exeunt, then? Owen. My lord Brumpton is dead, sir. Sir Wil. Dead! Owen. I saw him within this week in apparent good health; he promised to exert his whole interest in your favour: by his own apoointment I went to wait on him yesterday noon, when I was stunned with the news of his having died suddenly the evening before. Sir Wil. My lord Brumpton dead! the only friend I had remaining in England; the only person, on whose intercession I relied for my pardon. Cruel fortune! I have now no hope but to find my daughter. Tell me, Owen; have you been able to hear any tidings of her? Owen. Alas, sir, none that are satisfactory. On the death of Mr Andrews, in whose care you left her, being cruelly abandoned by the relation who succeeded to the estate, she left the country some months ago, and has not since been heard of. SCENE II.-Changes to AMELIA's apartment. Enter AMELIA and MOLLY. Ame. Poor Molly! to be teased with that odious fellow, Spatter ! Mol. But, madam, Mr Spatter says he is acquainted with your whole history. Ame. Mere pretence, in order to render himself formidable. Be on your guard against him, my dear Molly; and remember to conceal my misery from him and all the world. I can bear poverty, but am not proof against insult and contempt. Mol. Ah, my dear mistress, it is to no purpose to endeavour to hide it from the world. They will see poverty in my looks. As for you, you can live upon the air; the greatness of your soul seems to support you; but, lack-a-day! I shall grow thinner and thinner every day of my life. Ame. I can support my own distress, but yours touches me to the soul. Poor Molly! the labour of my hands shall feed and clothe you-Here! dispose of this embroidery to the best advantage; what was formerly my amusement, must now be come the means of our subsistence. Let us be obliged to nobody, but owe our support to in Sir Wil. Unhappy there, too! When will the measure of my misfortunes be full? When will the malice of my fate be satisfied? Proscribed, condemned, attainted, (alas, but too justly!) I have lost my rank, my estate, my wife, my son, and all my family! One only daughter remains! Perhaps a wretched wanderer, like myself, perhaps in the extremest indigence, perhaps disho-dustry and virtue. noured-Ha! that thought distracts me! Owen. My dear master, have patience! Do not be ingenious to torment yourself, but consult your safety, and prepare for your departure. Sir Wil. No, Owen. Hearing, providentially, of the death of my friend Andrews, paternal care and tenderness drew me hither; and I will not quit the kingdom, till I learn something of my child, my dear Amelia, whom I left a tender innocent, in the arms of the best of women, twenty years ago. Her sex demands protection; and she is now of an age, in which she is more exposed to misfortunes, than even in helpless infancy. Mol. You're an angel! let me kiss those dear hands that have worked this precious embroidery ! let me bathe them with my tears! You're an angel upon earth. I had rather starve in your service, than live with a princess. What can I do to comfort you? Ame. Thou faithful creature-only continue to be secret: you know my real character; you know I am in the utmost distress: I have opened my heart to you, but you will plant a dagger there, if you betray me to the world. Mol. Ah, my dear mistress, how should I betray you! I go no where, I converse with nobody but yourself and Mrs Goodman: besides, the world is very indifferent about other people's misfortunes. Ame. The world is indifferent, it is true; but it is curious, and takes a cruel pleasure in tearing open the wounds of the unfortunate. Enter MRS GOODMAN. Mrs Goodman! Mrs Good. Excuse me, madam: I took the liberty of waiting on you to receive your commands. Tis now near three o'clock. You have provided nothing for dinner, and have scarce taken any refreshment these three days. Ame. I have been indisposed. Mrs Good. I am afraid you are more than indisposed-You are unhappy-Pardon me! but I cannot help thinking that your fortune is unequal to your appearance. Ame. Why should you think so? You never heard me complain of my fortune. Mrs Good. No, but I have too much reason to believe it is inferior to your merit. Ame. Indeed, you flatter me. Mrs Good. Come, come; you must not indulge this melancholy. I have a new lodger, an elderly gentleman, just arrived, who does me the honour to partake of my dinner; and I must have your company, too. He seems to be in trouble, as well as you. You must meet; two persons in affliction may perhaps become a consolation to each other. Come, let us take some care of you. Ame. Be assured, Mrs Goodman, I am much obliged to you for your attention to me; but I want nothing. Mrs Good. Dear madam! you say you want nothing, and you are in want of every thing. Enter Servant. Ser. [To MRS GOODMAN.] Lady Alton, ma dam, sends her compliments, and will wait upon you after dinner. Mrs Good. Very well; my best respects to her ladyship, and I shall be ready to attend her. [Exit Servant.] There, there is one cause of your uneasiness! Lady Alton's visit is on your account. She thinks you have robbed her of lord Falbridge's affections, and that is the occasion of her honouring me with her company. Ame. Lord Falbridge's affections! Mrs Good. Ah! my dear Amelia, you don't know your power over his heart. You have reconciled it to virtue-But come! let me prevail on you to come with ine to dinner. Ame. You must excuse ine. Mrs Good. Well, well, then I'll send you something to your own apartment. If you have any other commands, pray honour me with them, for I would fain oblige you, if I knew how it were in my power. [Exit. Ame. What an amiable woman! If it had not been for her apparent benevolence and goodness of heart, I should have left the house on Mr Spatter's coming to lodge in it. Mol. Lady Alton, it seems, recommended him as a lodger here; so he can be no friend of yours on that account; for to be sure she owes you no good will on account of my lord Falbridge. Ame. No more of lord Falbridge, I beseech you, Molly. How can you persist in mentioning him, when you know, that, presuming on my situation, he has dared to affront me with dishonourable proposals? Mol. Ah, madam, but he sorely repents it, I promise you, and would give his whole estate for an opportunity of seeing you once more, and geting into your good graces again. Ame. No; his ungenerous conduct has thrown him as much below me, as my condition had placed me beneath him. He imagined he had a right to insult my distress; but I will teach him to think it respectable, [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-An apartment at Mrs GOODMAN'S. Enter LADY ALTON and SPATTER. Spat. BUT you won't hear me, madam! Lady Alt. I have heard too much, sir! This wandering incognita a woman of virtue! I have no patience. Spat. Mrs Goodman pretends to be convinced of her being a person of honour. Lady Alt. A person of honour, and openly receive visits from men! seduce lord Falbridge! No, no reserve this character for your next novel, Mr Spatter! it is an affront to my under standing. I begin to suspect you have betrayed me; you have gone over to the adverse party, and are in the conspiracy to abuse me. Spat. I, madam! Neither her beauty, nor her virtue Lady Alt. Her beauty! her virtue! Why, thou wretch, thou grub of literature, whom I, as a patroness of learning and encourager of men of letters, willing to blow the dead coal of genius, fondly took under my protection, do you remember what I have done for you? Spat. With the utmost gratitude, madam. Lady Alt. Did not I draw you out of the garret, where you daily spun out your flimsy brain to catch the town flies in your cobweb disserta- | tions? Did not I introduce you to lord Dapperwit, the Apollo of the age? And did not you dedicate your silly volume of poems on several occasions to him? Did not I put you into the list of my visitors, and order my porter to admit you at dinner-time? Did not I write the only scene in your execrable farce, which the audience vouchsafed an hearing? And did not my female friend, Mrs Melpomene, furnish you with Greek and Latin mottoes for your twopenny essays? Lady Alt. Of what consequence can they possibly be to me, man? Spat. I'll tell you, madam. It is a rule in politics, when we discover something, to add something more. Something added to something, makes a good deal; upon this basis I have formed a syllogism. Lady Alt. What does the pedant mean? A syllogism! Spat. Yes, a syllogism: as, for example, any person who is a native of Scotland, and wishes to be concealed, must be an enemy to the governSpat. I acknowledge all your ladyship's good-ment. Amelia is a native of Scotland, and wishes ness to me. I have done every thing in my power to be concealed. Ergo, Amelia is an enemy to to shew my gratitude, and fulfil your ladyship's the government. commands. Lady Alt. Words, words, Mr Spatter ! You have been witness of lord Falbridge's inconstancy. A perfidious man! False as Phaon to Sappho, or Jason to Medea! You have seen him desert me for a wretched vagabond; you have seen me abandoned like Calypso, without making a single effort to recall my faithless Ulysses from the Siren that has lured him from me. Spat. Be calm but one moment, madam, and I'll Lady Alt. Bid the sea be calm, when the winds are let loose upon it. I have reason to be enraged. I placed you in genteel apartments in this house, merely to plant you as a spy; and what have you done for me? Have you employed your correspondence to any purpose? or discovered the real character of this infamous woman, this insolent Amelia? Spat. I have taken every possible method to detect her. I have watched Amelia herself like a bailiff, or a duenna; I have overheard private conversations; have sounded the landlady; tampered with the servants; opened letters; and intercepted messages. Lady Alt. Good creature! my best Spatter! And what?-what have you discovered? Spat. That Amelia is a native of Scotland; that her surname, Walton, is probably not real, but assumed; and that she earnestly wishes to conceal both the place of her birth, and her family. Lady Alt. And is that all? Spat. All that I have been able to learn as yet, madam. Lady Alt. Wretch! of what service have you been, then? Are these your boasted talents? When we want to unravel an ambiguous character, you have made out that she wishes to lie concealed; and when we wish to know who she is, you have just discovered that she is a native of Scotland! Spat. And yet, if you will give me leave, madam, I think I could convince you that these discoveries, blind and unsatisfactory as they may appear to you at first, are of no small consequence: | Lady Alt. Excellent! admirable logic! but I wish we could prove it to be truth. it; Spat. I would not lay a wager of the truth of but I would swear it. Lady Alt. What, on a proper occasion, and in a proper place, my good Spatter? Spat. Willingly; we must make use of what we know, and even of what we don't know.Truth is of a dry and simple nature, and stands in need of some little ornament. A lie, indeed, is infamous; but fiction, your ladyship, who deals in poetry, knows is beautiful. Lady Alt. But the substance of your fiction, Spatter? Spat. I will lodge an information, that the father of Amelia is a disaffected person, and has sent her to London for treasonable purposes: nay, I can, upon occasion, even suppose the father himself to be in London: in consequence of which, you will probably recover lord Falbridge, and Amelia will be committed to prison. Lady Alt. You have given me new life. I took you for a mere stainer of paper; but I have found you a Machiavel. I hear somebody coming. Mrs Goodman has undertaken to send Amelia hither. Ha! she's here-Away, Spatter, and wait for me at my house: you must dine with me; and, after dinner, like true politicians, we will settle our plan of operations over our coffee. Away, away this instant! [Exit SPATTER. A convenient engine this Mr Spatter the most impudent thorough-paced knave in the three kingdoms! with the heart of Zoilus, the pen of Mævius, and the tongue of Thersites. I was sure he would stick at nothing. The writings of authors are public advertisements of their qualifications; and when they profess to live upon scandal, it is as much as to say, that they are ready for every other dirty work, in which we chuse to employ them. But now for Amelia: if she proves tractable, I may forego the use of this villain, who almost makes me hate my triumph, and be ashamed of my revenge. |