_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._
ACT THE FIFTH.