Chapter V: Act THE FOURTH: Scene I

_The Paddock near LADY WALTON'S House--A View of the
House at a distance, and partly moonlight._

_WILLOUGHBY alone._

_Willoughby._ 'Tis past the hour Lady Waitfor't appointed--why does she delay? I cannot have mistaken the place--yonder's Lady Walton's house--Oh! 'would all were past, and Louisa safely mine! I hear a noise--by Heaven 'tis she! and with her all my happiness--I'll withdraw a while, and observe them. [_Retires._

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T and LOUISA COURTNEY._

_Louisa._ My dear Lady Waitfor't, why do you loiter here? you cannot find your servants in this place--let us return to Lady Walton's.

_Lady._ No, no, they must be here,--I ordered them to wait in this very spot, to avoid confusion. What can have become of Willoughby? [_Aside._

_Louisa._ If you have the least sense of fear for yourself, or regard for me, I beg we may return to Lady Walton's.

_Lady._ No, no, I tell you I ordered William at the back gate, that he might conduct us through the paddock to our carriage; you know we might have been whole hours getting through the crowd the other way--do be a little patient, hav'n't I as much reason to be alarmed as yourself?

_Louisa._ Yes, but you have not the apprehension I have; I don't know why, but I am terrified beyond description.

_Lady._ Well, well, never fear; [_Looking out._] Oh, yonder's Willoughby! now for the grand design! [_Aside._] Louisa, if you'll wait here a moment I'll step to the next gate, and see if they are there;--they cannot escape us then.

_Louisa._ No, no, don't leave me;--I wouldn't stay by myself for the world.

_Lady._ Ridiculous! can't you protect yourself for an instant? must you be all your life watch'd like a baby in leading-strings? Oh! I am ashamed of you--only wait a moment, lest they pass by in my absence, and I'll return to you immediately.

_Louisa._ Well: don't stay.

_Lady._ Stay! what have you to be frightened at? I shall not be out of call;--besides, if there's any fear of a personal attack, may not I be as terrified as yourself? It isn't the first time, I'll assure you, but that's no matter;--show yourself a woman of spirit, and, at least, emulate one of my virtues.--Now, Willoughby, the rest is thine! [_Exit._

_WILLOUGHBY comes forward._

_Willoughby._ Be not alarmed, Miss Courtney.

_Louisa._ Mr Willoughby!

_Willoughby._ Yes, madam; the man you most avoid.

_Louisa._ Tell me, sir, immediately, how, and by whose appointment, you came here?

_Willoughby._ By love, madam; the same passion that has prompted me to pursue you for years, now happily conducts me hither;--I come to lessen your fears, not to increase them.

_Louisa._ Then, leave me, sir, I can protect myself.

_Willoughby._ No, not till you have heard and pitied me; I have been long your suitor, and long scorned by you; you have treated me with indifference, and preferred my inferiors; how I have deserved all this, yourself can best explain, but, to prove all former cruelties are forgotten, I here offer you my hand, and, with it, my heart.

_Louisa._ Sir,--this is no time for hearing you on this subject; if you wish to oblige me, leave me.

_Willoughby._ No, not till I am answered;--years may elapse ere I shall have another opportunity like the present, therefore no time can be so well as now.

_Louisa._ Then I command you to leave me,--I will not be threatened into a compliance.

_Willoughby._ Look ye, Miss Courtney--I would avoid taking advantage of your situation--nay, start not--but if you persist in your contempt of me, I know not to what extremities passion may hurry me; I have every motive for redress, and, if you do not instantly give me your word, to prefer me to that beggar Neville, I may do that, my cooler sense would scorn.

_Louisa._ Beggar, sir!

_Willoughby._ Yes; and, were he not beneath my resentment, I'd tell you more;--but he is too poor--too--

_Louisa._ Hold, sir; did you resemble him, I might esteem, nay, adore you; but as you are, I loath, I despise, I defy you;--you take advantage of my situation!--Hear me, sir,--though not a friend is near,--though night opposes me, and Heaven deserts me, yet can I smile upon your menaces, and make you tremble, villain as you are.

_Willoughby._ Have a care, madam! another declaration like that, and I'll delay no longer;--I'll force you to my purpose.

_Louisa._ You dare not, on your life you dare not.

_Willoughby._ Nay, then--I am not to be terrified by threats,--[_Lays hold of her._] all struggling is in vain; this moment gratifies my revenge,--away!

_Louisa._ Off,--let me go! Oh, help! help!

[_As he is forcing her out, enter FLORIVILLE, half
drunk._]

_Flor._ "Donne, donne, donne, dow." [_Singing part of an Italian air._] Oh, this burgundy's a glorious liquor! hey-day! who have we here?

_Louisa._ Oh, sir! if you have any pity for an injured, helpless woman, assist one who never knew distress till now!

_Flor._ Go on, ma'am, go on--both damn'd drunk I perceive.

_Louisa._ Do not be deaf to my entreaties--do not desert me--

_Flor._ Go on, ma'am, go on--I love oratory in a woman.

_Louisa._ Gracious Heaven! how have I deserved all this? I see, sir, you avoid me. I see you are indifferent to my fate.

_Flor._ No, ma'am, you wrong me--but in Italy--observe--we always take these things coolly--now, sir, will you explain?

_Willoughby._ No, sir, I will not.

_Flor._ You will not?

_Willoughby._ No, sir, and I warn you not to listen to the wild ravings of a senseless woman--it may be better for you, sir.

_Flor._ Why so, Prince Prettiman?

_Willoughby._ No matter, sir, I will not be amused from my purpose.

_Flor._ You won't, old Pluto, won't you? then, ma'am, observe! you shall behold my mode of fighting--I'll kill him like a gentleman, and he shall die without a groan;--you'll be delighted, ma'am--I learnt it all in Italy.--Come, Belzebub, are you ready?

_Willoughby._ 'Sdeath! what can I do? he is drunk, perhaps I may disarm him.

_Flor._ Now, thou original sin, thou prince of darkness! come out; never let her see thy black infernal visage more, or by my life I'll pulverize you--you see, ma'am, no bad orator either--learnt it all in Italy.

_Willoughby._ Come on, sir.

_Flor._ Ay, now old Sysiphus, push home--but fight like a gentleman, if you can, for remember, there is a lady in company--observe, ma'am, observe; you won't see it again. [_They fight.--FLORIVILLE disarms WILLOUGHBY._]

_Flor._ What, vanquished, Tarquin? hah! hah! [_Parrying up and down the stage by himself._]--You see, ma'am, you see!--Oh! Italy's your only country!--Now, ma'am, would you have me kill him here, "in Allegro," or postpone it, that you may have the pleasure of pinking him yourself, "in Penseroso?"

_Louisa._ [_Coming near FLORIVILLE, and discovering him._] Floriville, my deliverer!--generous man!--No, sir, whatever are his crimes, do not kill him; his greatest punishment will be to live.

_Flor._ There, then, caitiff, take your sword, and, d'ye hear? retire;--that black front of thine offends the lady;--if you want another flourish, you will soon find Floriville--abscond.

_Willoughby._ Sir, you shall hear from me--distraction! [_Exit._

_Flor._ And now, my dear little angel, how can I assist you? I'm very sorry that I can't help it--I'm cursed drunk, and not proper company for a lady of your dignity,--but I won't affront you,--I mean to make myself agreeable, and if I do not--it is the fault of that place, [_Pointing to his head._] and not of this, [_Pointing to his heart._]

_Louisa._ Sir, your conduct has endeared you to me for ever, and while I live, your generosity and valour shall be engraven on my heart.

_Flor._ Gently, gently, have a care, make no declarations; if you are in love with me, as I suppose you are, keep it secret,--for at this moment you might raise a flame that would consume us both;--poor creature! how fond she is of me! any other time I would indulge her, but not now--[_Looks at her sometime, then runs, and kisses her hand._]--Oh, you paragon!--"Angels must paint to look as fair as you."--[_Goes from her again._]--I'll leave you, or, by Heaven, it will be all over with us.

_Louisa._ No, no, don't desert me! alas! I have no way left but to commit myself to your care--if I could bring him to recollect me, all would be safe. Mr Floriville, don't you know me?

_Flor._ No, 'would to Heaven I did.

_Louisa._ What, not Miss Courtney?

_Flor._ What, Louisa? my brother's idol?

_Louisa._ Alas! the very same.

_Flor._ Then may I die, if I don't get out of your debt before I leave you--where--where shall I conduct you?

_Louisa._ I know not--return to lady Waitfor't's again, I will not--I had rather be a wanderer all my life--to lady Walton's there is no excuse for returning, and I know no friend in Bath I dare intrude upon.--I have so high an opinion, Mr Floriville, of your honour, that, notwithstanding your present situation, there is no man on earth I would sooner confide in;--can you then think of any place where I may rest in safety for a few hours, and then I will set out for my uncle's in the country.

_Flor._ Indeed I cannot, I am a wanderer myself;--I have no home but what this gentleman is to purchase me [_Taking out his purse._]--you cannot partake of that.

_Louisa._ Oh! what will become of me?

_Flor._ Let me see--I have it--I'll take her to my brother's;--she'll be safe there, and not a soul shall come near her.--Well, Miss Courtney,--I have recollected a place where I know you'll be safe--a friend's house, that will be as secure--nay, don't droop--in Italy we're never melancholy.

_Louisa._ Oh, Mr Floriville, to what a hazard has lady Waitfor't exposed me!--to her perfidy I owe it all--but yonder's that wretch again--pray let us begone.

_Flor._ Belzebub again,--no, no, we mustn't stir;--what! an angel fly from a devil? damme, I'll stay and crush him.

_Louisa._ Nay, sir, reflect,--'twere madness to remain.

_Flor._ 'Faith that's true; I believe it's braver to retire,--therefore, Tarquin, adieu; come, my best angel! I'll fight your battles, and if I don't sink all your enemies, may I never see Italy again as long as I live! [_Exeunt._

_Enter WILLOUGHBY._

_Willoughby._ Ha! gone,--I am sorry for it--I would have seen them--lady Waitfor't has just left me, and treated me like her slave,--insulted and derided me; but I'll have done with her for ever,--I'll be her dupe no more;--she is now gone to Neville's lodgings, under pretence of pursuing Louisa, but, in fact, to see him, and prevent his leaving Bath;--this I will write to my lord, and then let him follow, and be witness of her infamy;--thus, I hope, I shall make some reparation for the wrongs I have committed, and prove at last I have some sense of virtue. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_NEVILLE'S Lodgings--A Closet in back Scene.--Two
Chairs, and a Table, with Wine on it.--A knocking at the
Door._

_Enter PETER, reading a Card._

_Peter._ _Vapid presents his compliments to his friend Neville; has thought of nothing but writing the epilogue for his friend's play since they parted; he has made great progress, and will wait on him to take his judgment on it in a few minutes._ If the gentleman should come soon, I fear my master won't be at home to receive him.

[_Knocks.--PETER opens the Door, and lets in VAPID._

_Vapid._ Well, here it is;--where's Neville?

_Peter._ Not within, sir.

_Vapid._ Yes, yes, here it is:--I must see him.

_Peter._ Sir, he's gone out.

_Vapid._ Gone out? impossible!

_Peter._ Impossible! it's very true, sir.

_Vapid._ Gone out! why, I've brought him the epilogue--the new epilogue to Mr What's-his-name's comedy; the very best thing I ever wrote in my life; I knew it would delight him.

_Peter._ Sir, he has been gone out above these two hours.

_Vapid._ Then he'll never forgive himself as long as he lives; why, it's all correct--all chaste! only one half line wanting at the end to make it complete.

_Peter._ Indeed, sir, it's very unfortunate.

_Vapid._ Unfortunate! I wanted to have heard him read it too; when another person reads it, one often hits on a thought that might otherwise have escaped; then, perhaps, he would have hit on that cursed half line, I have so long been working at.

_Peter._ Sir, if it is not impertinent, and you'd permit me to read it--

_Vapid._ You read it!

_Peter._ Yes, sir, if you'd allow me that honour.

_Vapid._ 'Faith, I should have no objection,--but wouldn't it lower one's dignity? No, no, Moliere used to read his plays to his servants, so I believe all's regular.--Come, sir, begin. [_PETER reading Epilogue._

In ancient times, when agonizing wars,
And bleeding nations, fill'd the world with jars;
When murder, battle, sudden death, prevail'd,
When----

_Vapid._ Stop--stop--I have it: not a word for your life; I feel it--it's coming on--the last line directly--quick! quick! [_PETER reads._

The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,
Die all, die nobly!----

_Peter._ Here's something wanting, sir.

_Vapid._ I know it, say nothing--I have it--
[_Walks backwards and forwards._

The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,
Die all, die nobly!----

Oh, damn it! damn it! damn it!--that cursed half line!--I shall never accomplish it--all so chaste--all so correct,--and to have it marr'd for want of one half line,--one curst half line! I could almost weep for disappointment.

_Peter._ Never mind, sir, don't perplex yourself,--put in any thing.

_Vapid._ Put in any thing! why, 'tis the last line, and the epilogue must end with something striking, or it will be no trap for applause--no trap for applause, after all this fine writing!--Put in any thing!--what do you mean, sirrah?

_Peter._ Methinks this is a strange epilogue to a comedy--[_Knock at the door._]--Perhaps this is my master--[_Looks out._]--no, as I live, 'tis Mr Floriville and Miss Courtney! she mustn't on any account be seen by this gentleman.

_Vapid._ Well, who is it?--"The tyrant totters"--

_Peter._ Sir, it's a friend of my master's who has brought a lady with him--I'm sure you've too much gallantry to interrupt an amour; and, therefore, you'll be kind enough to get out of the way directly.

_Vapid._ Get out of the way! what the devil, in the middle of my composition?--"Die all, die nobly"--

_Peter._ Nay, sir, only step for a moment into this closet, and you shall be released,--now, pray, sir,--pray be prevailed on.

_Vapid._ Well, let me see--in this closet! why, here's china, zounds! would you put a live author in a china closet?

_Peter._ What can I do, sir? there is no way out but that door--get in here for an instant, and I'll show them into the library--now do, sir.

_Vapid._ Well, be brief then,--"Die all! die nobly!"--oh! oh! oh!
[_Enters Closet, and FLORIVILLE and LOUISA enter._

_Flor._ Hey-day!--my old acquaintance, Peter! where's my brother?

_Peter._ Sir, he has been out the whole evening.

_Louisa._ In the same house with Neville!--oh, Heavens!

_Flor._ Well, Miss Courtney, I hope now you are convinced of your safety.

_Louisa._ Yes, sir, but I would it were in any other place; lady Waitfor't, ere this, is in pursuit of me, and if she discovers me here, you know too well how much I have to dread. [_Knock at the Door.--Exit PETER._

_Flor._ Don't be alarm'd, there's nothing shall molest you.

_Louisa._ Oh, sir, you don't know the endless malice of lady Waitfor't--she will triumph in my misery, and till my lord is convinced of her duplicity, I see no hope of your brother's happiness, or my own.

_Enter PETER._

_Peter._ Lady Waitfor't is below, inquiring for that lady, or my master.

_Flor._ For my brother?

_Peter._ Yes, sir, and my lord has sent to know if Mr Vapid, or her ladyship, have been here;--he was in bed, but on receiving a letter, got up, and will be here in an instant.

_Louisa._ For Heaven's sake, Mr Floriville, let me retire,--I cannot support the conflict.

_Flor._ Promise to recall your spirits, and you shall.

_Louisa._ What I can do I will.

_Flor._ Then know no apprehension, for, on my life, you shall not be disturbed.

[_Leads her to the Door of the Library, and talks in
dumb show._

_Vapid._ [_From Closet._] Peter! Peter! can't you release me?

_Peter._ No, sir, don't move, you'll ruin every thing.

_Vapid._ Then give me that candle--I have pen and ink--I think I could finish my epilogue.

_Peter._ Here, sir. [_Giving Candle._

_Vapid._ That curst half line--"Die all"-- [_PETER shuts him in._

_Flor._ So, now, the storm begins, and if I don't have some sport with the enemy--[_Sits at Table, and begins drinking._]--here she comes.

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T._

_Flor._ Chairs, Peter, chairs,--Sit down, ma'am--sit down--you honour me exceedingly.

_Lady._ Where is your brother, sir? I insist on seeing him.

_Enter LORD SCRATCH._

_Lord._ There she is!--in a man's lodgings at midnight--here's treatment!

_Lady._ My lord, I came here in search of Louisa, who has been betrayed from my power.

_Lord._ Look ye, my lady--read that letter, that's all; read that letter, and then say, if we sha'n't both cut a figure in the print shops.

_Lady._ [_Taking Letter._] Ha! Willoughby's hand! [_Reads._] _Lady Waitfor't, (I have only time to tell you) is gone to Neville's lodgings, to meet one she has long had a passion for--follow her, and be convinced of her duplicity._ Oh, the villain! well, my lord, and pray who is the man I come to meet?

_Lord._ Why, who should it be but the stage ruffian? if there was a sofa in the room, my life on't, he'd pop from behind it.--Zounds! that fellow will lay straw before my door every nine months!

_Lady._ This is fortunate.--[_Aside._]--Well, sir, if I discover Louisa, I hope you'll be convinced I came here to redeem her, and not disgrace myself. Tell me, sir, immediately, where she is concealed. [_To FLORIVILLE._

_Flor._ Sit down, ma'am--sit down: drink, drink, then we'll talk over the whole affair--there is no doing business without wine; come, here's "The glory of gallantry"--I'm sure you'll both drink that.

_Lady._ No trifling, sir; tell me where she is concealed;--nay, then I'll examine the apartment myself--[_Goes to Door of Library._]--the door lock'd! give me the key, sir.

_Flor._ [_Drinking._] "The glory of gallantry, ma'am."

_Lord._ Hear me, sir, if the lady's in that apartment, I shall be convinced that you and your brother are the sole authors of all this treachery; if she is there, by the honour of my ancestors, she shall be Willoughby's wife to-morrow morning.

_Flor._ [_Rising._] Shall she, my lord? Pray, were you ever in Italy?

_Lord._ Why, coxcomb?

_Flor._ Because, I'm afraid you've been bitten by a tarantula--you'll excuse me, but the symptoms are wonderfully alarming--There is a blazing fury in your eye--a wild emotion in your countenance, and a green spot--

_Lord._ Damn the green spot! open that door, and let me see immediately: I'm a peer, and have a right to look at any thing.

_Flor._ [_Standing before the Door._] No, sir; this door must not be open'd.

_Lord._ Then I'll forget my peerage, and draw my sword.

_Flor._ [_To LADY WAITFOR'T, who is going to interfere._] Don't be alarm'd, ma'am, I'll only indulge him for my own amusement--mere trout fishing, ma'am--

_Enter LOUISA, from the Apartment._

_Louisa._ Hold! I charge you, hold!--let not my unhappy fate be the source of more calamities.

_Lord._ 'Tis she herself:--My lady did not come to meet the madman.

_Flor._ By the lord, ma'am, you have ruined all.

_Louisa._ I know, sir, the consequences of this discovery, and I abide by them.--But what I have done, I can justify, and 'would to Heaven all here could do the same!

_Flor._ Indeed, I can't tell--I wish I was in Italy.

_Lord._ Mark me, madam,--nay, tears are in vain--to-morrow shall make you the wife of Willoughby; and he shall answer for your follies.--No reply, sir, [_To FLORIVILLE, who is going to speak._] I wou'dn't hear the chancellor.

_Lady._ Now, who is to blame? Oh, virtue is ever sure to meet its reward!--Come to meet a mad poet, indeed!--My lord, I forgive you only on condition of your signing a contract to marry me to-morrow, and Louisa to Willoughby, at the same time.

_Lord._ I will, thou best of women!--draw it up immediately--and Neville shall starve for his treachery. [_LADY WAITFOR'T goes to the Table, and writes._

_Louisa._ [_Falling at the feet of LORD SCRATCH._] Hear me, sir, not for myself, but for a wrong'd friend, I speak:--Mr Neville knows not of my concealment; on my honour, he is innocent:--if that lady's wrongs must be avenged, confine the punishment to me--I'll bear it, with patience bear it.

_Lord._ Let go!--let go, I say!--Lady Waitfor't, make haste with the contract.

_Lady._ It only waits the signature.--Now, my lord.

_Flor._ Look ye, uncle--she's the cause of all this mischief, and if you are not lost----

_Lord._ Out of my way!--O'd--noise and nonsense!--don't fancy yourselves in the House of Commons! we're not speaking twenty at a time. Here! give me the pen--I'll sign directly; and now--

[_As he is going to sign, VAPID breaks the China in the
Closet, and rushes out, with the Epilogue in his Hand._

_Vapid._ "Die all! die nobly! die like demi-gods!"--Huzza, huzza! 'tis done! 'tis past! 'tis perfect.

_Flor._ Huzza!--the poet at last; "Stop him who can!"

_Lady._ Confusion!--tell me, sir, immediately, what do you mean by this new insult?

_Vapid._ "Die all! die nobly! die like demi-gods!"--oh, it's glorious!--Ah, old Scratch, are you there?--Joy, joy! give me joy!--I've done your business! the work's past!--the labour's o'er, my boy!--"think of that, Master Brook--think of that!"

_Lady._ My lord, I am vilely treated.--I desire you'll insist on an explanation.

_Flor._ He can't speak, madam.
[_All this time, my LORD is slowly walking away._

_Lady._ How! are you going to leave me, my lord?

_Vapid._ [_Taking out his Common-place Book._] 'Faith this musn't be lost!--here's something worth observing. [_Exit LORD SCRATCH._

_Lady._ Oh, I shall burst with rage!--Mr Vapid, I desire you'll explain how you came in that closet.--Why don't you answer me, sir?

_Vapid._ Your pardon, ma'am, I was taking a note of the affair--and yet I'm afraid----

_Lady._ What are you afraid of, sir?

_Vapid._ That it has been dramatized before;--it is certainly not a new case.

_Lady._ Insupportable!--But I take my leave of you all!--I abandon you for ever!--I!--oh, I shall go wild! [_Exit in a rage._

_Flor._ Ay, ay, follow his lordship--virtue is ever sure to meet its reward. Now, Mr Vapid, tell us how you came in that closet?

_Vapid._ 'Faith, I can't.--I believe the servant hurried me there on your approach.

_Flor._ Then you didn't come to meet lady Waitfor't?

_Vapid._ Meet lady Waitfor't!--no, I came to read my epilogue to Neville; and a wonderful production it is--"The tyrant totters, and the senate nods." [_Walking about._

_Louisa._ To what a strange fatality of circumstances has her character been exposed!--but vice often finds its punishment for a crime it never committed, when it escapes for thousands it daily practises.

_Flor._ Well, Miss Courtney, I hope now your apprehensions are at an end?

_Louisa._ Yes, sir, I shall remain for the short time necessary to prepare for my journey, and beg I may detain you no longer. I'm afraid I have already been a great intruder.

_Flor._ No, you have been the occasion of more happiness than ever I experienced. But you won't leave Bath, till you've seen my brother?

_Louisa._ Oh, I have been cruelly deceived, Mr Floriville! I have injured your brother so much, that, though I wish, I almost dread to see him.

_Flor._ Then I'll go in search of him,--and if I don't reconcile you----Come, Mr Vapid, will you walk?

_Vapid._ With all my heart.

_Flor._ [_Taking him by the hand._] By Heaven, you are an honest fellow.

_Vapid._ Madam, good night!--if I can be of any service to you in the dramatic, or any other way, you may command me.

_Flor._ Ay, I'll answer for him,--he would die to serve you.

_Vapid._ Die to serve her! ay, "Die all!--die nobly!--die like demi-gods!" [_Exeunt._