Chapter 6

_SIR SIMON ROCHDALE'S Library._

_Enter SIR SIMON ROCHDALE and the EARL OF FITZ BALAAM._

_Sir Simon._ Believe me, my lord, the man I wish'd most to meet in my library this morning, was the Earl of Fitz Balaam.

_Lord Fitz._ Thank you, Sir Simon.

_Sir Simon._ Your arrival, a day before your promise, gives us such convenient leisure to talk over the arrangements, relative to the marriage of Lady Caroline Braymore, your lordship's daughter, with my son.

_Lord Fitz._ True, Sir Simon.

_Sir Simon._ Then, while Lady Caroline is at her toilet, we'll dash into business at once; for I know your lordship is a man of few words. They tell me, my lord, you have sat in the Upper House, and said nothing but aye and no, there, for these thirty years.

_Lord Fitz._ I spoke, for more than a minute, in the year of the influenza.

_Sir Simon._ Bless me! the epidemic, perhaps, raging among the members, at the moment.

_Lord Fitz._ Yes;--they cough'd so loud, I left off in the middle.

_Sir Simon._ And you never attempted again.

_Lord Fitz._ I hate to talk much, Sir Simon;--'tis my way; though several don't like it.

_Sir Simon._ I do. I consider it as a mark of your lordship's discretion. The less you say, my lord, in my mind, the wiser you are; and I have often thought it a pity, that some noble orators hav'n't follow'd your lordship's example.--But, here are the writings. [_Sitting down with LORD FITZ BALAAM, and taking them from the Table._] We must wave ceremony now, my lord; for all this pile of parchment is built on the independent four thousand a year of your daughter, Lady Caroline, on one hand, and your lordship's incumbrances, on the other.

_Lord Fitz._ I have saddles on my property, Sir Simon.

_Sir. Simon._ Which saddles, your lordship's property being uncommonly small, look something like sixteen stone upon a poney. The Fitz Balaam estate, for an earl, is deplorably narrow.

_Lord Fitz._ Yet, it has given security for a large debt.

_Sir Simon._ Large, indeed! I can't think how you have contriv'd it. 'Tis the Archbishop of Brobdignag, squeez'd into Tom Thumb's pantaloons.

_Lord Fitz._ Mine is the oldest estate in England, Sir Simon.

_Sir Simon._ If we may judge of age by decay, my lord, it must be very ancient, indeed!--But this goes to something in the shape of supplies. [_Untying the Papers._] "Covenant between Augustus Julius Braymore, Earl of Fitz Balaam, of Cullender Castle, in the county of Cumberland, and Simon Rochdale, Baronet, of Hollyhock House, in the county of Cornwall."----By the by, my lord, considering what an expense attends that castle, which is at your own disposal, and that, if the auctioneer don't soon knock it down, the weather will, I wonder what has prevented your lordship's bringing it to the hammer.

_Lord Fitz._ The dignity of my ancestors. I have blood in my family, Sir Simon---- [_Proudly._

_Sir Simon._ A deal of excellent blood, my lord; but from the butler down to the house-dog, curse me if ever I saw so little flesh in a family before--But by this covenant----

_Lord Fitz._ You clear off the largest mortgage.

_Sir Simon._ Right;--for which purpose, on the day of the young folks' marriage----

_Lord Fitz._ You must pay me forty thousand pounds.

_Sir Simon._ Right, again. Your lordship says little; but 'tis terribly plump to the point, indeed, my lord. Here is the covenant;--and, now, will your lordship look over the marriage articles?

_Lord Fitz._ My attorney will be here to-morrow, Sir Simon. I prefer reading by deputy. [_Both rise._

_Sir Simon._ Many people of rank read in the same way, my lord. And your lordship will receive the forty thousand pounds, I am to pay you, by deputy also, I suppose.

_Lord Fitz._ I seldom swear, Sir Simon; but, damn me if I will.

_Sir Simon._ I believe you are right. Yet there are but two reasons for not trusting an attorney with your money:--one is, when you don't know him very well; and the other is, when you do.--And now, since the marriage is concluded, as I may say, in the families, may I take the liberty to ask, my lord, what sort of a wife my son Frank may expect in Lady Caroline? Frank is rather of a grave, domestic turn: Lady Caroline, it seems, has passed the three last winters in London. Did her ladyship enter into _all_ the spirit of the first circles?

_Lord Fitz._ She was as gay as a lark, Sir Simon.

_Sir Simon._ Was she like the lark in her hours, my lord?

_Lord Fitz._ A great deal more like the owl, Sir Simon.

_Sir Simon._ I thought so. Frank's mornings in London will begin where her ladyship's nights finish. But his case won't be very singular. Many couples make the marriage bed a kind of cold matrimonial well; and the two family buckets dip into it alternately.

_Enter LADY CAROLINE BRAYMORE._

_Lady Car._ Do I interrupt business?

_Sir Simon._ Not in the least. Pray, Lady Caroline, come in. His lordship and I have just concluded.

_Lord Fitz._ And I must go and walk my three miles, this morning.

_Sir Simon._ Must you, my lord?

_Lord Fitz._ My physician prescribed it, when I told him I was apt to be dull, after dinner.

_Sir Simon._ I would attend your lordship;--but since Lady Caroline favours me with--

_Lady Car._ No, no--don't mind me. I assure you, I had much rather you would go.

_Sir Simon._ Had you?--hum!--but the petticoats have their new school of good breeding, too, they tell me. [_Aside._] Well, we are gone--we have been glancing over the writings, Lady Caroline, that form the basis of my son's happiness:--though his lordship isn't much inclined to read.

_Lady Car._ But I am.--I came here to study very deeply, before dinner.

_Sir Simon._ What, would your ladyship, then, wish to-- [_Showing the Writings._

_Lady Car._ To read that? My dear Sir Simon! all that Hebrew, upon parchment as thick as a board!--I came to see if you had any of the last novels in your book room.

_Sir Simon._ The last novels!--most of the female new school are ghost bitten, they tell me. [_Aside._] There's Fielding's Works; and you'll find Tom Jones, you know.

_Lady Car._ Psha! that's such a hack!

_Sir Simon._ A hack, Lady Caroline, that the knowing ones have warranted sound.

_Lady Car._ But what do you think of those that have had such a run lately?

_Sir Simon._ Why, I think most of them have run too much, and want firing. [_Exeunt SIR SIMON, and LORD FITZ BALAAM._

_Lady Car._ I shall die of ennui, in this moping manor house!--Shall I read to-day?--no, I'll walk.--No, I'll----Yes, I'll read first, and walk afterwards. [_Rings the Bell, and takes a Book._]--Pope.--Come, as there are no novels, this may be tolerable. This is the most triste house I ever saw! [_Sits down and reads._

"In these deep solitudes, and awful cells, Where heavenly-pensive--"

_Enter ROBERT._

_Rob._ Did you ring, my lady?

_Lady Car._ ----"Contemplation dwells--" Sir? Oh, yes;--I should like to walk. Is it damp under foot, sir?--"And ever musing--"

_Rob._ There has been a good deal of rain to-day my lady.

_Lady Car._ "Melancholy reigns--"

_Rob._ My lady--

_Lady Car._ Pray, sir, look out, and bring me word if it is clean or dirty.

_Rob._ Yes, my lady. [_Exit._

_Lady Car._ This settling a marriage is a strange business!--"What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?--"

_Shuff._ [_Without._] Bid the groom lead the horse into the avenue, and I'll come to him.

_Lady Car._ Company in the house?--some Cornish squire, I suppose. [_Resumes her reading._

_Enter TOM SHUFFLETON, speaking while entering, JOHN following._

_Lady Car._ [_Still reading, and seated with her Back to SHUFFLETON._]----"Soon as thy letters, trembling, I unclose----"

_John._ What horse will you have saddled, sir?

_Shuff._ Slyboots. [_Exit JOHN._

_Lady Car._ ----"That well known name awakens all my woes--"

_Shuff._ Lady Caroline Braymore!

_Lady Car._ Mr. Shuffleton! Lard! what can bring you into Cornwall?

_Shuff._ Sympathy:--which has generally brought me near your ladyship, in London at least, for these three winters.

_Lady Car._ Psha! but seriously?

_Shuff._ I was summoned by friendship. I am consulted on all essential points, in this family;--and Frank Rochdale is going to be married.

_Lady Car._ Then, you know to whom?

_Shuff._ No;--not thinking that an essential point, I forgot to ask. He kneels at the pedestal of a rich shrine, and I didn't inquire about the statue. But, dear Lady Caroline, what has brought you into Cornwall?

_Lady Car._ Me? I'm the statue.

_Shuff._ You!

_Lady Car._ Yes; I've walk'd off my pedestal, to be worshipp'd at the Land's End.

_Shuff._ You to be married to Frank Rochdale! O, Lady Caroline! what then is to become of _me_?

_Lady Car._ Oh, Mr. Shuffleton! not thinking that an essential point, I forgot to ask.

_Shuff._ Psha! now you're laughing at me! but upon my soul, I shall turn traitor; take advantage of the confidence reposed in me, by my friend, and endeavour to supplant him.

_Lady Car._ What do you think the world would call such duplicity of conduct?

_Enter ROBERT._

_Rob._ Very dirty, indeed, my lady. [_Exit._

_Shuff._ That infernal footman has been listening!--I'll kick him round his master's park.

_Lady Car._ 'Tis lucky, then, you are booted; for, you hear, he says it is very dirty there.

_Shuff._ Was that the meaning of----Pooh!--but, you see, the--the surprise--the--the agitation has made me ridiculous.

_Lady Car._ I see something has made you ridiculous; but you never told me what it was before.

_Shuff._ Lady Caroline; this is a crisis, that--my attentions,--that is, the----In short, the world, you know, my dear Lady Caroline, has given me to you.

_Lady Car._ Why, what a shabby world it is!

_Shuff._ How so?

_Lady Car._ To make me a present of something, it sets no value on itself.

_Shuff._ I flattered myself I might not be altogether invaluable to your ladyship.

_Lady Car._ To me! Now, I can't conceive any use I could make of you. No, positively, you are neither useful nor ornamental.

_Shuff._ Yet, you were never at an opera, without me at your elbow;--never in Kensington Gardens, that my horse--the crop, by the bye, given me by Lord Collarbone,--wasn't constantly in leading at the gate:--hav'n't you danc'd with me at every ball?--And hav'nt I, unkind, forgetful, Lady Caroline, even cut the Newmarket meetings, when you were in London?

_Lady Car._ Bless me!--these charges are brought in like a bill. "To attending your ladyship at such a time; to dancing down twenty couple with your ladyship, at another,"--and, pray, to what do they all amount?

_Shuff._ The fullest declaration.

_Lady Car._ Lard, Mr. Shuffleton! why, it has, to be sure, looked a--a--a little foolish--but you--you never spoke any thing to----that is--to justify such a----

_Shuff._ That's as much as to say, speak now. [_Aside._]--To be plain, Lady Caroline, my friend does not know your value. He has an excellent heart--but that heart is--[_Coughs._] damn the word, it's so out of fashion, it chokes me! [_Aside._] is irrevocably given to another.--But mine--by this sweet hand, I swear---- [_Kneeling and kissing her Hand._

_Enter JOHN._

Well, sir?-- [_Rising hastily._

_John._ Slyboots, sir, has been down on his knees;--and the groom says he can't go out.

_Shuff._ Let him saddle another.

_John._ What horse, sir, will you----

_Shuff._ Psha!--any.--What do you call Mr. Rochdale's favourite, now.

_John._ Traitor, sir.

_Shuff._ When Traitor's in the avenue, I shall be there. [_Exit JOHN._

_Lady Car._ Answer me one question, candidly, and, perhaps, I may entrust you with a secret.--Is Mr. Rochdale seriously attached?

_Shuff._ Very seriously.

_Lady Car._ Then I won't marry him.

_Shuff._ That's spirited.--Now, your secret.

_Lady Car._ Why--perhaps you may have heard, that my father, Lord Fitz Balaam, is, somehow, so--so much in debt, that--but, no matter.

_Shuff._ Oh, not at all;--the case is fashionable, with both lords and commoners.

_Lady Car._ But an old maiden aunt, whom, rest her soul! I never saw, for family pride's sake, bequeathed me an independence. To obviate his lordship's difficulties, I mean to--to marry into this humdrum Cornish family.

_Shuff._ I see--a sacrifice!--filial piety, and all that--to disembarrass his lordship. But hadn't your ladyship better--

_Lady Car._ Marry to disembarrass you?

_Shuff._ By my honour, I'm disinterested.

_Lady Car._ By my honour, I'm monstrously piqued--and so vex'd, that I can't read this morning,--nor talk,--nor----I'll walk.

_Shuff._ Shall I attend you?

_Lady Car._ No;--don't fidget at my elbow, as you do at the opera. But you shall tell me more of this by and by.

_Shuff._ When?--Where? [_Taking her Hand._

_Lady Car._ Don't torment me.--This evening, or--to-morrow, perhaps;--in the park,--or----psha! we shall meet at dinner.--Do, let me go now, for I shall be very bad company.

_Shuff._ [_Kissing her Hand._] Adieu, Lady Caroline!--

_Lady Car._ Adieu! [_Exit._

_Shuff._ My friend Frank, here, I think, is very much obliged to me!--I am putting matters pretty well _en train_ to disencumber him of a wife;--and now I'll canter over the heath, and see what I can do for him with the brazier's daughter. [_Exit._