Page images
PDF
EPUB

1

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Outfide of the Hermitage.

Enter MISS STOIC and NICHOLAS from Hermitage.
Mifs Stoic.

Do

OLT! dotard! to fend away Sir Edward
Specious' fervant-Go-call him back di-

rectly.

Nich. Lord, ma'am, what can I do? You abufe me for admitting Mrs. Aubrey in the morning, and then the major brings her home at night.

Mifs Stoic. Ay; and Olivia with her; and therefore Sir Edward is the very perfon I would hear from. Away! [Exit Nicholas. Olivia's innocence confirm'd, I cannot turn her from my door, but, like my brother, must confefs I've been impos'd on by a flanderous world!

Re-enter NICHOLAS, with SIR EDWARD's Servant. Ser. From sir Edward Specious, Madam. (giving her a letter.)

Mifs Stoic. Now, then! (reads) "As I must not have the pleasure of feeing you, owing to your folitary life, I write to fay, I have been deprived of Mifs Olivia's hand and heart by the malignity of her artful Governefs; but with your kind affiftance, I ftill hope to call her Lady Specious."With my affiftance! Oh! I underftand-and he fhan't want an opportunity-I'll fend an anfwer in an hour, and till then, let calm philofophy compofe his mind; (Exit Servant) for, as the antient Bard expreffes it, "Man's but a vapour, and full of woes-juft cuts a caper, and down he goes."

Enter,

[ocr errors]

Enter, haftily, from the Houfe, MAJOR TORNADO.

Major. Help, Sifter! help to relieve the garrifon, or it will furrender at difcretion; for there's Olivia has been storming it with such a volley of interrogatories.

Mifs Stoic. What interrogatories?

Major. Why, poor girl! fuch as, Why I adopted her without feeing her-why I concealed from her her parents' names-and I can't stand it-I can march up,like a hero, to the mouth of a lighted cannon, but the voice of a fupplicating woman!-Do you know, because I named Lord Danvers with unufual feeling, fhe fnatched his picture from me. Mifs Stoic. Lord Danvers' picture?

Major. Ay and fhe put it round her neck, and I can't get it back again; but I hope-Zounds! I don't know what I hope.-Sifter, befriend me, tell her at once my facred promife to Lord Danvers. Mifs Stoic. Your facred promise!

Major. Ay: to her former benefactor-to that gallant friend, who, wounded in his country's caufe, and dying upon India's plains, implored me to protect his infant charge-" Take her," he cried, દ and, to fecure her from her parents' power, fwear never to reveal their names, but call her by your own!" I preffed his hand in token of compliance; he told me more of the difaftrous tale, and, bleffing me, expired-Impart thus much, and pity for us both will teach her to be filent.

Mifs Stoic. And if pity don't, philosophy will; for the fhall copy my fuperior mind, and fimile at this world's vain purfuits. -Brother, 'tis done. (going)

Major. Thanks, thanks!-Be careful though, hint not Lord Danvers was her grandfather, but

fay

say that he adopted her, like me, from motives of humanity.

Mifs Stoic. Think you I'll help her to unfold the names of parents who fo wrong'd her? No; I have hitherto, myself, neglected her, and therefore fhall atone by tender, fifterly and philanthropic

care.

Major. What a pair of treasures! (kiffing her band) Exit Mifs Stoic. Blefs my foul! I'm fo agitated, and fo happy-I'll build my cottage this moment-I'll turn country gentleman for life, and, with dear Olivia, a husband for her like Mr. Doric, a young family, a pack of hounds-Yorks, Lancasters, and a large farm in my own hands, I'll bring rural tactics to fuch perfection, that retired brother-officers fhall fay, Gibraltar befieg'd is dull to my modern cottage.

O: Doric. (without) Very glad to fee you indeed, old boy-and that's the houfe of the old Hermitefs, is it?

Major. How now! old Hermitefs! More agitation! oh ho! (retires)

Enter Old Doric and Tradelove.

Tradel. Your hand again, old fchoolfellow! What, fo you came here for amufement, I fuppofe?

O. Doric. Quite the contrary-came on bufinefs-call'd fuddenly from London to Somersetfhire-met Bob Smalltalk at Briftol-know Bob

Smalltalk of your town? Got into goffip-told me of all your new building-jobs-new town-hall, bridge, family-feats-fo being only forty miles off, róde poft-hafte on fpeculation, and, except horfe bolting after fox-chafe, and pitching me from one county to another.

Tradel. Indeed!-why 'slife! were you much hurt?

O. Doric.

O. Doric. No; quite the contrary. And now I'm here, mean to take one George Dorville by surprise; and, over a bottle, thank him for the account of Jack's reformation. (producing a letter) Harkye, another Inigo Jones-going to town to turn active partner-and would fooner-but bad company-miftook, and went to weft end d town; when, notorious now, fashionable people all come into the city.

Tradel. What! to pay money into their bankers' hands?

O. Doric. Quite the contrary; to borrow money of their bankers-and where one fmart equipage jogs down St. James's-ftreet, twenty rattle up Ludgate-hill-But time's precious; muft make in tereft 'gainst my rival architects-fo, mum!-first canvafs Nick's old fweetheart here.

Major. (behind) Nick's old fweetheart!

0. Doric. And mine alfo, ha! ha! We were the honest men long fearched for in the dark by old Diogenes the fecond.

[ocr errors]

Major. (advancing) Sir, anfwer me-Who the devil do you call old Diogenes the fecond? O. Doric. What's that to you, Sir?

Major. Every thing, fir: and I infift you own' this lady's hatred to the world proceeded folely from her hatred to its vices (pointing to the Hermitage.)

O. Doric. No: quite the contrary.
Major. What!

0. Doric. Why, don't I know? Didn't fhe write red-hot love-verfes in the newspapers, under the fignature of Laura Seraphina; and didn't my friend, Ned Nick, the attorney, anfwer them by the name of Rolando Furiofo? And didn't the

prefs groan for months with " for months with "Feelings amaranthine! Chains adamantine! and bleeding hearts panting?"

Major.

Major. What then, fir ?

O. Doric. Why, then didn't Furiofo, that is, Nick, the lawyer, work himself into fuch a real paffion for his unknown Seraphina, that is, Dorothy, the spinfter,-that, after chafing the incognita through fylvan vallies, and thro' flowery meads, he at laft found her in the dark alcoves of Crutched Friars; and, alas! instead of the roseate youth, and dazzling fmiles the glowing poet fancied, he faw fuch wrinkles, and fuch wizen looks, that, to console his heart's despair, he

Major. He what, fir?

0. Doric. Why, he charg'd her 6s. and 8d. for every stanza, and fent Seraphina a bill of cofts, as long as his own face! and then I went between ?em, as their modern, mutual friend-and being, as you fee, a fort of lady's man, fhe forced me to reject her too, and then, like all philofophers, the left the world, because the world left her; but I can make her think it ftill a paradife-and the reward I ask-hark ye! (pulling Major towards him). is to be architect to her old fiery, bully-loving brother.

Major. What old fiery, bully-loving

O. Doric. Why, he from India; and he must comply; for the poor nabob's Seraphina's pigeon.

Major. Very likely. (putting on his hat fiercely). But he's not your's-a fiery, bully-lovingdare you, to my face, repeat that?

O. Doric. No; quite the contrary. (in great alarm)

Major. 'Tis well; and I'll this moment to my fifter; not to diftrefs, but to amufe her with your vanity; for if the ever deign'd even to lookpooh! ftick to your trade-raife houfes upon terra firma, and don't build caftles in the air; for, tho' not bullying, as you fuppofe, I prize my fifter's

honour

« PreviousContinue »