The Politician Out-Witted Part 23

MARIA. Yes, sir.

LOVEYET. Oh, you dear little rogue! With whom, eigh, with whom?--Don't be bashful,--tell them.--I know she means me. [_Aside._

MARIA. I beg to be excused from telling that, sir; but I will tell you who it is I would _not_ have.

LOVEYET. Aye, that's him.--[_Aside, looking at FRANKTON._]--Well, who is it you won't have, Maria, who is it?

MARIA. You, sir. [_Emphatically._

LOVEYET. Me, eigh?--me--me, Maria?

CHARLES. Preposterous infatuation!

LOVEYET. D----'d, wanton, treacherous jilt!

[_Walks about discomposed._

MARIA. You have jilted yourself, sir;--nothing but excess of dotage and self-conceit could have let you impose on yourself in such a manner.

FRANKTON. And may I then hope--

MARIA. Hope?--Oh, yes, sir;--you have my permission to _hope_ for anything you please.

CHARLES. And you, madam, the disposition to gratify his hopes, I fancy.

LOVEYET. I fancy you lie, sir; and you sha'n't have Harriet, for your impertinence.

CHARLES. Excuse me, father;--it is not in your power to prevent that;--the happy deed is already executed.

LOVEYET. 'Zounds! that's true!--and, what is still worse, the other deed is executed too.--Fire and fury! All is lost, for the sake of that inveigling, perfidious young Syren. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

TRUEMAN. [_Burlesquing what LOVEYET has said in a former scene._] "'Sdeath, sir! I tell you I am but two and forty years old: she sha'n't be more than thirty odd, sir; and she shall be ten years younger than I am too.--A man of five and forty, old, forsooth!" Ha, ha, ha.

LOVEYET. Perdition! Is this what I have come to at last?--Despis'd,-- betray'd,--laugh'd at,--supplanted by a puppy,--[_Pointing to FRANKTON_]-- trick'd out of my money by a graceless, aristocratic son,--I--I'll--I'll go hang myself.

[_Exit in a pa.s.sion._

HUMPHRY. This is, for all the world, like the show I see t'other night, at the Play-house.

CHARLES. His agitation of mind distresses me: my happiness is not complete, while it is enjoyed at the expense of a father's:--painful reflection!--We will go immediately, Harriet, and endeavour to pacify him.

_His conduct shall instruct the h.o.a.ry Sage, That youth and beauty were not meant for age; His rage, resentment, av'rice, dotage, pride, (Sad view of human nature's frailest side!) Shall mend us all;--but chiefly I shall prove, That all his Politics, can never match my LOVE._

_The End._