Chapter IV: Act THE THIRD: Scene I

_A Saloon in LADY WAITFOR'T'S House._

_LOUISA discovered reading._

_Louisa._ Heigho! these poets are wonderfully tiresome--always on the same theme--nothing but love--I'm weary of it. [_Lays down the book, and rises._] Ungenerous Neville! how could he use me so cruelly? to attempt to gain my affections, and then address another? Lady Waitfor't has convinced me of the fact,--I can never forgive him: yet, I fear I love him still--well, I'll even go examine my heart, and determine whether I do love him or not.

_Enter NEVILLE, as she is going out._

Mr Neville!--I thought, sir, I had desired we might never meet again.

_Nev._ 'Tis true, madam, and I meant to obey your commands, hard as they were, implicitly obey them--but I came hither to welcome my brother, and not to intrude on the happiness of her I am doomed to avoid.

_Louisa._ If I remember, sir, truth was ever among the foremost of your virtues?

_Nev._ Yes--and I am confident you have no reason to doubt it--though you have cause to censure my presumption, you have none to suspect my fidelity.

_Louisa._ Oh no!--I don't suspect your fidelity in the least, but when people are faithful to more than one, you know, Mr Neville----

_Nev._ I don't understand you, ma'am.

_Louisa._ It is no matter, Mr Neville--you may spare yourself any trouble in attempting to justify your conduct--I am perfectly satisfied, sir, I'll assure you. [_Going._

_Nev._ Oh, do not leave me in this anxious state!--perhaps this is the last time we shall ever meet, and to part thus, would embitter every future moment of my life. Indeed, I have no hopes that concern not your happiness--no wishes that relate not to your esteem.

_Louisa._ Sir,--I will freely confess to you, had you shown the least perseverance in your affection or sincerity in your behaviour, I could have heard your addresses with pleasure--but to listen to them now, Mr Neville, would be to approve a conduct, my honour prompts me to resent, and my pride to despise.

_Nev._ Then I am lost indeed!--'Tis to the perfidious Lady Waitfor't I owe all this--my present

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T, behind._

misery--my future pain--are all the product of her jealous rage!--She is so vile a hypocrite, that--

_Lady._ [_Coming forward._] Who is a hypocrite, sir?

_Nev._ Madam!

_Lady._ Who is a hypocrite, sir? answer me.

_Nev._ Ask your own heart, that can best inform you.

_Lady._ Tell me, Mr Neville, what have I done, that you dare insult me thus?

_Nev._ What have you done! look on that lady, madam;--there all my hopes and wishes were combined!--There was the very summit of my bliss!--I thought I had attained it; but in the moment of my happiness, you came, crushed every hope, and baffled all my joys.

_Lady._ Upon my word, sir, very romantic,--but I thank Heaven, I look for approbation in a better opinion than that of Mr Neville's.

_Nev._ 'Tis well you do, madam; for were I your judge, your punishment should be exemplary.--But I'll waste words no more--I only hope [_To LOUISA._] you, madam, are satisfied that one of my errors may at least be forgiven, and this last suspicion for ever blotted from your memory.

_Lady._ Sir,--from that lady's forgiveness you have nothing to expect--if she consents to pardon you, I'll take care my lord never shall.

_Nev._ No--I do not hope for forgiveness--I have heard her determination; and, cruel as it is, to that I must resign;--she may be assured I never will intrude where I know I offend.

_Louisa._ Do you then leave us, Mr Neville?

_Nev._ Yes, madam,--and for ever!----May you be as blest in the gratification of your hopes as I have been wretched in the disappointment of mine. [_Exit._

_Lady._ Tyrant! I wish he had stayed to hear reason--I hope he is not serious in leaving us.

_Louisa._ You hope!--Why does it concern you?

_Lady._ Oh! no further than from that general love I bear mankind.--You forget my feelings on these occasions, Louisa.

_Louisa._ Yes, indeed--I have too much reason to attend to my own!--You'll excuse me--I have particular business--I'll return immediately. [_Exit._

_Lady._ Oh! the cause of her confusion is evident--she loves him still--but they shall never meet again--I have already sent a letter to Willoughby, which imparts a scheme I have long cherished. My lord, in his anger about my stage mania, has forgot Ennui's play; so, that there may be no bars to Willoughby's happiness, I am determined Louisa shall be his this very night.

_Enter LORD SCRATCH._

_Lord._ Here's a spectacle for a peer! Floriville is below, and has returned from his travels a finished coxcomb.--I'll not give him a farthing.

_Lady._ Nay, my lord, perhaps you may be mistaken.

_Lord._ Mistaken! no,--he has travelled not to see, but to say he had seen.

_Enter MARIANNE, with a French Watch and Chain._

_Mari._ Oh, uncle-in-law! look here----I never saw any thing so elegant in all my life.

_Lord._ Whose present is this?

_Mari._ Whose!--why the sweet gentleman's just arrived from Italy.--Lord! he's a dear man!--He has promised to do every thing for me--to get me a fortune--to get me a husband--to get me a----

_Lord._ Hush! you don't know what you are talking about.

_Mari._ Yes, but I do, though--he has told me every thing--Lord! I have heard such things!--Come here, near--[_LORD SCRATCH gets close to her._] get my aunt out of the room, and I'll tell you stories that shall make your old heart bound again! Hush! do it quietly--I will, upon my honour.--What an old fool it is! [_Aside._

_Lady._ Marianne, you mustn't listen to Mr Floriville,--for travellers may persuade you into any thing--and many a woman has been ruined in one country, by being told it is the fashion in another.

_Lord._ Here he comes: I see, as plain as my peerage, I sha'n't keep my temper.

_Enter FLORIVILLE._

_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 assure 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 circumstance.

_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 damned 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 passions;--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 title, 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 Butterflies----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 coxcomb! [_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 assure 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._

_Ennui._ Get down stairs, you dog--get down,--[_Exit SERVANT._] Here I am, ma'am:--ease is every thing--I'll seat myself--now for business!--yaw--aw!-- [_Yawns aside._

_Louisa._ Sir!

_Ennui._ In one word, I'll tell you my character,--I'm a lad of fashion!--I love gaming--I hate thinking--I like racing--I despise reading--I patronize boxing--I detest reasoning--I pay debts of honour,--not honourable debts--in short, I'll kick your servants--cheat your family, and fight your guardian--and so if you like me, take me--heh, damme!--I'm tired already!--yaw--aw. [_Yawns aside._

_Louisa._ Astonishing!--Mr Ennui--

_Ennui._ Ma'am? yaw--aw! [_Aside._

_Louisa._ Mr Ennui, can you be in your senses?

_Ennui._ In fact--I don't comprehend [_Forgetting himself._]--Oh--ay--senses! [_Recollecting himself._] a lad of fashion in his senses!--that's a very good joke!--if one of us had any sense, the rest would shut him up in a cabinet of curiosities, or show him as a wonderful animal:--they would, damme!--I can't support it!--yaw--aw! [_Yawns aside._

_Louisa._ So, you glory in your ignorance?

_Ennui._ Ma'am--yaw! aw! [_Aside._

_Louisa._ So, you glory in your ignorance--in your vices?

_Ennui._ I've an idea--I can't understand--[_Forgetting himself._]--vices! Oh:--ay, damme, to be sure; [_Recollecting himself._] you must be wicked, or you can't be visited--singularity is every thing,--every man must get a character, and I'll tell you how I first got mine:--I pretended to intrigue with my friend's wife,--paragraph'd myself in the newspapers,--got caricatured in the print-shops--made the story believed,--was abused by every body,--noticed for my gallantry by every body--and at length visited by every body--I was, damme!--I'm curst sleepy,--yaw--aw! [_Yawns aside._

_Louisa._ Incredible!--but if singularity is your system, perhaps being virtuous would make you as particular as any thing.

_Ennui._ Vastly well!--'gad, you're like me, a wit, and don't know it. [_Taking out his Watch._] How goes the enemy?--more than half the day over!--tol de rol lol! [_Humming a tune._] I'm as happy as if I was at a fire, or a general riot.--Come to my arms, thou angel--thou--[_As he goes to embrace her, LORD SCRATCH enters--he embraces him._] Ah,--Scratch!--my friend Scratch!--sit down, my old boy--sit down,--we've settled every thing. [_Forces him into a Chair, and sits by him._]

_Lord._ Why,--what is all this?

_Ennui._ She's to intrigue, and you and I are to go halves in the damages--some rich old Nabob--we'll draw him into _crim. con._--bring an action directly, and a ten thousand pound verdict at least--eh, damme!--

_Lord._ Why he's mad!--that dramatic maniac has bit him.

_Ennui._ Get a divorce--marry another, and go halves again, damme!

_Lord._ [_Rising._] Why, look ye, you impostor!--you--didn't you come here to pay your addresses to this lady? and wasn't I to bring you into parliament, for your quiet silent disposition?

_Ennui._ [_Pushing him out of his way._] Hold your tongue! out of the way, Scratch!--out of the way, or I'll do you a mischief--I will, damme!--Zounds!--a'nt I at the top of the beau monde? and don't I set the fashions?--if I was to cut off my head, wouldn't half the town do the same?--they would, damme!--I get sleepy again!--yaw--aw!-- [_Aside._

_Lord._ Here now!--here's a mandarin member;--why, he'd have bred a civil war!--made ten long speeches in a day!--cut your head off, indeed!--curse me but I wish you would--you must be silent then--you couldn't talk without a head, could you?

_Ennui._ Yes, in parliament--as well without a head as with one--do you think a man wants a head for a long speech, damme!--

_Enter SERVANT._

_Servant._ Her ladyship is waiting, ma'am.

_Louisa._ Oh, I attend her,--Mr Ennui, your most obedient.

_Ennui._ [_Taking her Hand._] With your leave, ma'am.--You see, Scratch--you see.

_Lord._ Why, Louisa!--

_Ennui._ Keep your distance, Scratch--contemplate your superiors,--look at me with the same awful respect a city beau looks at a prince,--this way, most angelic--Scratch, cut your head off--this way, most angelic. [_Exit with LOUISA._

_Lord._ Here's treatment!--was ever poor peer so tormented?--what am I to do?--I'll go to Lady Waitfor't, for from her alone I meet relief,--find a silent member, indeed!--by my privilege one might as soon find a pin in the ocean,--charity in a bench of bishops,--or wit in Westminster hall! [_Exit._