_Enter_ DOCTOR ROSY.
_Rosy_. Well, I think my friend is now in a fair way of
succeeding. Ah! I warrant he is full of hope and fear, doubt and
anxiety; truly he has the fever of love strong upon him: faint,
peevish, languishing all day, with burning, restless nights. Ah! just
my case when I pined for my poor dear Dolly! when she used to have her
daily colics, and her little doctor be sent for. Then would I
interpret the language of her pulse--declare my own sufferings in my
receipt for her--send her a pearl necklace in a pill-box, or a cordial
draught with an acrostic on the label. Well, those days are over: no
happiness lasting: all is vanity--now sunshine, now cloudy--we are, as
it were, king and beggar--then what avails----
_Enter_ LIEUTENANT O'CONNOR.
_O'Con_. O doctor! ruined and undone.
_Rosy_. The pride of beauty----
_O'Con_. I am discovered, and----
_Rosy_. The gaudy palace----
_O'Con_. The justice is----
_Rosy_. The pompous wig----
_O'Con_. Is more enraged than ever.
_Rosy_. The gilded cane----
_O'Con_. Why, doctor! [_Slapping him on the shoulder_.]
_Rosy_. Hey!
_O'Con_. Confound your morals! I tell you I am discovered,
discomfited, disappointed.
_Rosy_. Indeed! Good lack, good lack, to think of the instability
of human affairs! Nothing certain in this world--most deceived when
most confident--fools of fortune all.
_O'Con_. My dear doctor, I want at present a little practical
wisdom. I am resolved this instant to try the scheme we were going to
put into execution last week. I have the letter ready, and only want
your assistance to recover my ground.
_Rosy_. With all my heart--I'll warrant you I'll bear a part in
it: but how the deuce were you discovered?
_O'Con_. I'll tell you as we go; there's not a moment to be lost.
_Rosy_. Heaven send we succeed better!--but there's no knowing.
_O'Con_. Very true.
_Rosy_. We may and we may not.
_O'Con_. Right.
_Rosy_. Time must show.
_O'Con_. Certainly.
_Rosy_. We are but blind guessers.
_O'Con_. Nothing more.
_Rosy_. Thick-sighted mortals.
_O'Con_. Remarkably.
_Rosy_. Wandering in error.
_O'Con_. Even so.
_Rosy_. Futurity is dark.
_O'Con_. As a cellar.
_Rosy_. Men are moles.
[_Exeunt_ LIEUTENANT O'CONNOR _forcing out_ ROSY.]