A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS, AS IT IS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN. By FREDERICK REYNOLDS. A NEW EDITION. LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. N. LONGMAN AND O. REES, NO. 39; 1800. MVR SPECULATION. SCENE. ACT I. An Apartment in PROJECT's Country CECILIA difcovered trying to unlock the Door. CECILIA.. nobody being near, I'll make use of the attendant's key, and for the second time converse with my dear Emmeline. We were yesterday interrupted by Sir Frederick, and I had only time to fay a few words to my old friend and fchool-fellow, but now-how! Sir Frederick again! Enter Sir FREDERICK FAINTLY. Cecil. Sir, I beg I may not be thus conftantly disturb'd. Sir Fred. Difturb'd! I would request the fame favour, Miss Cecilia, but that nothing on earth ever disturbs me; and indeed nothing ever pleases me-I'm in a perfect state of happy nonchalance-I fancy though we're both on the same errand-that door, heh? Cecil. I told you yesterday, fir, I know nothing. about that door. Sir Fred. Oh, for fhame!--what do you pretend not to know that it leads to that part of the houfe where Emmeline is lock'd up? come, come, Mifs-you remember I caught you bribing the attendant to lend you the key-Cecilia walks about in agitation) now why be affronted? nothing ever affronts me-no, if you were a man, and chose to fay I had caused all Emmeline's fufferings—that I had behaved like a rascal to her then fend me a challenge-then cane-then kick me-why, I fhouldn't be affronted-no, I've too much good breeding and good temper. Cecil. Very likely, fir; but as a vifitor at Mr. Project's house here in the country, I pry into no family fecrets-if I did, I believe the ftory of this young lady Sir Fred. Ah, poor girl! fhe and all her large fortune had been mine if fhe hadn't-you underftand-love touch'd her brain. Cecil. How do you mean, fir? Sir Fred. Why, that's the cause of her present confinement: to be fure fhe has lately recovered her fenfes indeed is quite reftored; but her guardian and physician think her entering too, fuddenly on the world again might occafion a relapse-therefore he is kept quiet and clofe in that part of the houfe-Would you believe it, ma'am, fhe preferr'd another man to me? Cecil. Indeed! and who could be fo accomplish'd as to out-rival a lover like fir Frederick? Sir Fred. A coufin of her's, one Captain Arable, whofe father, being averfe to the match, fent him to Gibraltar, where ever fince Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir, Lady Project defires to fee diately. you imme Cecil. There now-you need not be mortified there's there's your equivalent: I'm fure her ladyship prefers you to another man, even to her husband. Sir Fred. She does, fo fhew me to her. Mifs, if you should get a peep at Emmeline, tell her as I'm always in love in the country-— Cecil. In the country! Why not in London? Sir Fred. Oh, that depends on the part of the town I'm in-I conftantly adapt myself, and in every ftreet I'm a different man-for inftance now: in the Temple I'm a lawyer; in St. James's-ftreet a lounger; in St. George's church I'm a married man; in Doctors' Commons a bachelor; Guildhali gives me an appetite: the Alley makes me waddle; in the Squares I'm not worth a farthing; and in Lombard-street I've as many plumbs as a banker— So tell Emmeline I ftill love her and will still be her hufband. {Exit. Cecil. Now then for my charming reclufe(Opens a door in flat.) Emmeline, it is your friend Cecilia! She leads in Emmeline. Emme. Oh, forgive me, 'tis fo long fince I have feen a friend. Cecil. Come, as we were interrupted yesterday, pray fit down and proceed with your ftory: the little I have heard makes me anxious to hear more(They fit)-now, my sweet friend, proceed. Emme. I will when I am able-First then, did you ever hear the name of Edward Ara--? you fee my weakness; I have not power to proceed. Cecil. Nay, nay; unbofom your feelings: pray go on. Emme, I will, I will-the name of Edward Arable -it is enough to fay we lov'd and were dividedMy father chofe Sir Frederick for my husband, and on the morn of our intended marriage, they falfely told me Edward was no more. What was to be |