L. 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 absolutely 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? Allur'd 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'FLAHERTY. 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've the honour of telling you so myself. L. Rus. Major O'Flaherty, I am rejoiced to see you. Nephew Dudley, you perceive I'm engaged. Charles. I shall not intrude upon your ladyship's more agreeable engagements. I presume I have my answer. L. Rus. 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 shew you the way into my dressing-room; and let us leave this young adventurer to his meditation. [Exit. O' Fla I follow vou, my lady. Young gentleman, your obedient! Upon my conscience, as fine a young fellow as I wou'd wish to clap my eyes on: he might have answer'd my salute, however-well, let it pass; fortune, perhaps, frowns upon the poor lad; she's a damn'd slippery lady, and very apt to jilt us poor fellows, that wear cockades in our hats. well, honey, whoever thou art. Fare-thee [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, wou'd, 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? 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. Charles. What ails you? You've been weeping. 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, give me your direction; write it upon the back of this visiting-ticket-Have you a pencil? Charles. I have: but why shou'd you desire to find us out? 'tis a poor, little, inconvenient place; my sister has no apartment fit to receive you in. Servant enters. Serv. Madam, my lady desires your company di rectly. 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. SCENE 1. A Room in FULMER's House. Enter FULMER and Mrs. FULMER. Mrs. Fulmer. WHY, how you sit, musing and mopeing, 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 retir'd way of life at Bologne, 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 gull'd 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 us'd to be a livelihood to be pick'd 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 a master-stroke, Mr. Fulmer, if you wish to make any figure in this country. Ful. But where, how, and what? I have bluster'd for prerogative; I have bellowed for freedom; I have offer'd 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 cann'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 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'd the wit to find the way. Ful. Hang him, an old dry skin'd 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 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. [Exit. SCENE II. Captain DUDLEY enters to him. Ful. Captain Dudley, good morning to you. |