The Dramatist; or Stop Him Who Can! Part 8

_Flor._ Ladies, a thousand pardons, for not waiting on you before, but this is the first vacant moment I have had since my arrival in Bath.

_Mari._ Sir, your coming at all is taken as a very great compliment, I'll a.s.sure you.

_Lady._ Leave the room immediately--no reply--I will be obeyed--[_To MARIANNE, who exits._] Mr Floriville, we are very happy to see you.

_Flor._ Ma'am, you do me honour--my lord, where's Harry?--I thought to have found him here;--what, he didn't chuse to stay?--so much the better--it shows he's not a man of ceremony--we do the same in Italy.

But, hark ye, uncle,--is this the lady I'm to call my aunt?

_Lord._ My gorge is rising: I shall certainly do him a mischief.

_Flor._ [_Spying at her._] Rather experienced or so--a little antique, eh!--however, the same motive that makes her a good aunt to me, will make her a good wife to you--you understand me?

_Lord._ Dam'me if I do.

_Flor._ Well, well, no matter--come, I want to hear every thing--to know what remarkable occurrences have happened since I left England.--Pray, Lady Waitfor't, inform me--do let me know every little circ.u.mstance.

_Lady._ Rather, sir, we should ask of you what happened in your travels?

_Flor._ Oh, nothing so shocking!--no man can be the herald of his own praise.

_Lady._ Yes, sir,--but I wish to know how you like the Chapel of Loretto, the Venus de Medicis of Florence, the Vatican at Rome, and all the numberless curiosities peculiar to the countries you have travelled through?

_Lord._ Look ye--I'll answer for it, he knows nothing of the gentlemen you mention--do you, my sweet pretty?--Oh! you d.a.m.ned puppy!

_Flor._ Why swear, my lord?

_Lord._ Swear, my lord! Zounds! it's my prerogative, and, by----tell me how you spent your time, sir?

_Flor._ Why, in contemplating living angels, not dead antiquities;--in basking in the rays of beauty, not mouldering in the dust of ancestry;--in mirth, festivity, and pleasure; not study, pedantry, and retirement.--Oh, I have lived, sir! lived for myself, not an ungrateful world, who, should I die a martyr to their cause, would only laugh and wonder at my folly.

_Lady._ You seem to know the world, Mr Floriville.

_Flor._ No, ma'am, I know little of mankind, and less of myself,--I have no pilot, but my pleasures;--no mistress, but my pa.s.sions;--and I don't believe, if it was to save my life, I could reason consequentially for a minute together.

_Lord._ Granted:--you have seen every thing worth seeing, yet know nothing worth knowing;--and now you have just knowledge enough to prove yourself a fool on every subject.

_Flor._ Vastly well, my lord--upon my word, you improve with your t.i.tle, but I am perfectly satisfied, believe me--for what I don't know, I take for granted is not worth knowing--therefore we'll call another topic.--I'm in love, my lord.

_Lord._ In love!--with who, sir?

_Flor._ Can't you guess?

_Lord._ No, sir, I cannot.

_Flor._ With one that will please you very much--at least, ought to please you--you'll be in raptures, dear uncle.

_Lord._ Raptures! and you shall be in agonies, my dear nephew.

_Flor._ You have known one another a long while, yet you hav'n't met for years--you have loved one another a long while, yet you quarrelled not an hour ago--you have differed from one another all your lives, yet you are likely to be friends as long as you live--and, above all, the person is now in the house.

_Lord._ In this house! let me know who it is this moment, or by the blood of the Scratches----

_Flor._ One who has charms enough to set the world on fire;--one who has fortune enough to set a state at war, sir;--one who has talents, health, and prosperity, and yet not half what the person deserves:--can you tell now, sir?

_Lord._ No, sir, and if you don't tell this instant----

_Flor._ Then I'll tell you, [_Slaps him on the back._] it's myself, sir!

my own charming self!--I have searched the world over, and I don't find any thing I like half so well. [_Walks up the stage._

_Lord._ I won't disgrace myself,--I won't lower the dignity of peerage, by chastising a commoner;--else, you Prince of b.u.t.terflies----come, my lady----look ye, sir--I intend to be handed down to posterity; and, while you are being lampooned in ballads and newspapers, I mean to cut a figure in the History of England:--so, come along, my lady--in the History of England, you c.o.xcomb! [_Exeunt LORD and LADY._

_Flor._ If the face is the picture of the mind, that intended aunt of mine is a great hypocrite, and the story I heard of the poet proves it.--But now for a frolic--'gad it's very strange I could never reform, and become a serious thinking being--but what's the use of thinking?

Reason stays till we call, and then not oft is near, But honest instinct comes a volunteer!-- [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_An Apartment in LADY WAITFOR'T'S House._

_Enter WILLOUGHBY and SERVANT._

_Will._ [_To SERVANT._] Tell your mistress I shall be punctual to the appointment. [_Exit SERVANT._] So, thanks to fortune, Lady Waitfor't has at length consented to my entreaties, and this night makes Louisa mine for ever!--now to read the letter once more. [_Reads._

_Louisa accompanies me to-night to Lady Walton's, which you know is at the extremity of the town--on some pretence or other I'll tell her I have ordered the servant at the back gate which adjoins the paddock,--there I'll leave her--and if you have a chaise waiting near the spot, you may conduct her where you please.--You know my feelings on this occasion, but it is for her good only, I'll a.s.sure you--she don't deserve it, Mr Willoughby:--indeed she don't deserve it._

A. WAITFOR'T.

So--this is beyond my hopes!--ha! my Lord, and Louisa with him, come to receive Ennui, whom, to my astonishment, I met just now swearing and capering, and boasting of the vices of fashion--but no matter--I must to the rendezvous immediately--now, Louisa, tremble at my vengeance!

[_Exit._

_Enter LORD SCRATCH and LOUISA._

_Lord._ Yes, yes:--Ennui will be here in an instant--but he's so reserved--and so mild--

_Louisa._ So I understand, sir--and so very silent, that he won't talk so much in a year, as I intend in an hour.

_Lord._ I know--that's the reason I bring him into parliament--he'll never speak--only say "Ay" or "No," and be up stairs to beef-steaks in an instant, [_Knock._] Here he is!--now encourage him--don't mind his diffidence--

_Louisa._ No, sir--I'll do all in my power to make him talk.

_Lord._ That's well--I'll leave you together--I won't interrupt you, [_Stamping without._] Odso!--I must get out of the way,--encourage him; Louisa--I beseech you encourage him! [_Exit._

_Ennui._ [_Without._] Stand by! no ceremony, damme!--

_Louisa._ Heaven!--is this diffidence?

_Enter ENNUI and SERVANT._