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The Dramatist; or Stop Him Who Can! Part 17

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_Lord._ By the word of a peer, I will not.

[_VAPID, coming forward, touching LORD SCRATCH on the Shoulder, and writing in common-place book._

_Vapid._ Master Brook, let me persuade you.

_Lord._ Flames and firebrands, the fiend again!

_Vapid._ Give consent, and I'll give Neville a fortune--he shall have the entire profit of the different plays in which I intend to have the honour of introducing yourself and the old Lady Hurlothrumbo.

_Lord._ Oh, that I was not a peer! if I was any thing else--but, thank Heaven, Louisa is more averse to the match than myself.

_Vapid._ Is she?

_Lord._ Yes, she knows his falsehood, and despises him.

_Vapid._ What, you are confident of it?

_Lord._ Out of my way, sir,--I'll not answer you,--I'll go take her to town directly.--Out of my way, sir.

_Vapid._ Stop--you're wrong, Master Brook--she's in that room.

_Lord._ Where?--behind me?

_Vapid._ Yes--there--there! [_Pointing._] Now for it!--what an effect!

[_LORD S. opens the Gla.s.s Doors, and discovers NEVILLE kneeling to LOUISA. MARIANNE with them._

_Vapid._ There, Peter! there's catastrophe!--Shakspeare's invention nothing!--Applaud it, you dog--clap, clap, Peter, clap!

_Lord._ What are you at, you impudent rascal?--get out of the room.

[_Exit PETER._

_Vapid._ I should set this down--I may forget.

_Mari._ Lord! he has a very bad memory,--I hope he won't forget our marriage.

_Nev._ Oh! Louisa, what am I to think?

_Louisa._ That I have wronged thee, Neville! [_Embracing._

_Flor._ My dear Harry, let this be my apology for not having seen you before. [_Giving him a Paper._] Miss Courtney, ten thousand joys;--could I have found my brother, you should have seen him sooner.

_Nev._ Why, here is a deed of gift of half your estate!

_Flor._ I know it, but say nothing. When you gave me money, five years ago, did I say any thing?--no, I forgot it as soon as it was over; and should never have recollected, at this moment, but for my lord's inhumanity.--Uncle, I thank you,--you have made me the happiest man alive.

_Lord._ Don't perplex me;--what a compound of folly and generosity!

_Mari._ Uncle-in-law, what are your feelings on this occasion?--as my aunt says.

_Lord._ Feelings!--I never knew a peer had any.

_Mari._ Didn't you?

_Lord._ No; but now I find the contrary: I begin to think I've a heart like other men. It's better to atone for an error, than persist in one--therefore give me that deed, Neville----there, sir, [_Giving it to FLORIVILLE._] do you think n.o.body has estates but yourself?--Louisa and her fortune are your own, Neville; and after my death, you shall have all mine:--and now there's a cursed burden off my mind.

_Mari._ Now, you're a dear creature! and I won't marry,--that's what I won't, without consulting you.

_Lord._ You marry! why, who should you marry?--And pray, how came you here?

_Mari._ A gentleman run away with me;--he is now in the room.

_Lord._ In the room! what, Floriville?

_Mari._ No, behind you. [_Pointing to VAPID, who is writing at a Table._

_Lord._ Ghosts and spectres! my evil genius!

_Mari._ Come, my dear, haven't you almost finished? [_VAPID rises._

_Vapid._ Yes, the denouement is complete, and now, Mrs Vapid, I resign myself to love and you.

_Mari._ Come, give consent, my lord,--my husband will get money, though I have none.

_Lord._ None!--I dare say he can tell you, you will have twelve thousand pounds in less than a year.

_Vapid._ That's a new incident!

_Mari._ Shall I? then 'faith, Mr Vapid, we'll build a theatre of our own! you shall write plays, and I'll act them.

_Enter ENNUI._

_Ennui._ I've an idea--I give you joy, Neville.--I mean to kill time, by living single; and, therefore, I hope, the lady and the borough may be yours.

_Mari._ Mr Ennui, I hope you'll forgive me, and Sir Harry Hustle, the fatigue we occasioned you?

_Ennui._ Yaw, aw--don't mention it.--The very recollection makes me faint.--In fact--my lord, I just met one of Lady Waitfor't's servants, who tells me she has left Bath in a rage.

_Flor._ I am afraid she has escaped too easily.

_Lord._ Oh, never think of her! I can answer for her punishment being adequate to her crimes--Willoughby has told me all her schemes,--and if ever I hear her name again, may I lose my peerage, and dress like a gentleman.

_Ennui._ My lord--I've an idea--

_Vapid._ Sir, I beg your pardon; but really, if you have an idea, I will trouble you to spare it me for my comedy.

_Ennui._ In fact--I don't comprehend. I have read your "die-all"

epilogue, and--

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The Dramatist; or Stop Him Who Can! Part 17 summary

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