SCENE I.--LORD HARDY'S _Lodgings.

_Enter_ LORD HARDY.

_Ld. H._ Now, indeed, I am utterly undone; but to expect an evil softens the weight of it when it happens, and pain no more than pleasure is in reality so great as in expectation. But what will become of me? How shall I keep myself even above worldly want? Shall I live at home a stiff, melancholy, poor man of quality, grow uneasy to my acquaintance as well as myself, by fancying I'm slighted where I am not; with all the thousand particularities which attend those whom low fortune and high spirit make malcontents? No! We've a brave prince on the throne, whose commission I bear, and a glorious war in an honest cause approaching [_clapping his hand on his sword_], in which this shall cut bread for me, and may perhaps equal that estate to which my birth entitled me. But what to do in present pressures--Ha! Trim. [_Calling._

_Enter_ TRIM.

_Trim._ My lord.

_Ld. H._ How do the poor rogues that are to recruit my Company?

_Trim._ Do, sir! They've ate you to your last guinea.

_Ld. H._ Were you at the agent's?

_Trim._ Yes.

_Ld. H._ Well? And how?

_Trim._ Why, sir, for your arrears, you may have eleven shillings in the pound; but he'll not touch your growing subsistence under three shillings in the pound interest; besides which you must let his clerk, Jonathan Item, swear the peace against you to keep you from duelling--or insure your life, which you may do for eight per cent. On these terms he'll oblige you, which he would not do for anybody else in the regiment; but he has a friendship for you.

_Ld. H._ Oh, I'm his humble servant; but he must have his own terms. We can't starve, nor must my fellows want. But methinks this is a calm midnight, I've heard no duns to-day----

_Trim._ Duns, my lord? Why now your father's dead, and they can't arrest you. I shall grow a little less upon the smooth with 'em than I have been. Why, friend, says I, how often must I tell you my lord is not stirring: His lordship has not slept well, you must come some other time; your lordship will send for him when you are at leisure to look upon money-affairs; or if they are so saucy, so impertinent as to press to a man of your quality for their own--there are canes, there's Bridewell, there's the stocks for your ordinary tradesmen. But to an haughty, thriving Covent Garden mercer, silk or laceman, your lordship gives your most humble service to him, hopes his wife's well. You have letters to write, or you'd see him yourself, but you desire he would be with you punctually such a day, that is to say the day after you are gone out of town.

_Ld. H._ Go, sirrah, you're scurrilous; I won't believe there are such men of quality. D'ye hear, give my service this afternoon to Mr. Cutpurse, the agent, and tell him I'm obliged to him for his readiness to serve me, for I'm resolved to pay my debts forthwith----

[_A voice without._ I don't know whether he is within or not. Mr. Trim, is my lord within?]

_Ld. H._ Trim, see who it is. I ain't within, you know. [_Exit_ TRIM.

_Trim._ [_Without._] Yes, sir, my lord's above; pray walk up----

_Ld. H._ Who can it be? he owns me, too.

_Enter_ CAMPLEY _and_ TRIM.

Dear Tom Campley, this is kind! You are an extraordinary man indeed, who in the sudden accession of a noble fortune can be still yourself, and visit your less happy friends.

_Cam._ No; you are, my lord, the extraordinary man, who, on the loss of an almost princely fortune, can be master of a temper that makes you the envy, rather than pity, of your more fortunate, not more happy friends.

_Ld. H._ O, sir, your servant--but let me gaze on thee a little, I han't seen thee since I came home into England--most exactly, negligently, genteelly dressed! I know there's more than ordinary in this [_beating_ CAMPLEY'S _breast_]. Come, confess, who shares with me here? I must have her real and poetical name. Come; she's in sonnet, Cynthia; in prose, mistress.

_Cam._ One you little dream of, though she is in a manner of your placing there.

_Ld. H._ My placing there?

_Cam._ Why, my lord, all the fine things you've said to me in the camp of my Lady Sharlot, your father's ward, ran in my head so very much, that I made it my business to become acquainted in that family, which I did by Mr. Cabinet's means, and am now in love in the same place with your lordship.

_Ld. H._ How? in love in the same place with me, Mr. Campley?

_Cam._ Ay, my lord, with t'other sister--with t'other sister.

_Ld. H._ What a dunce was I, not to know which, without your naming her! Why, thou art the only man breathing fit to deal with her. But my Lady Sharlot, there's a woman--so easily virtuous! So agreeably severe! Her motion so unaffected, yet so composed! Her lips breathe nothing but truth, good sense, and flowing wit.

_Cam._ Lady Harriot! there's the woman; such life, such spirit, such warmth in her eyes; such a lively commanding air in her glances; so spritely a mien, that carries in it the triumph of conscious beauty; her lips are made of gum and balm. There's something in that dear girl that fires my blood above--above--above----

_Ld. H._ Above what?

_Cam._ A grenadier's march.

_Ld. H._ A soft simile, I must confess! but oh that Sharlot! to recline this aching head, full of care, on that tender, snowy--faithful bosom!

_Cam._ O that Harriot! to embrace that beauteous[20]----

_Ld. H._ Ay, Tom; but methinks your head runs too much on the wedding night only, to make your happiness lasting; mine is fixed on the married state. I expect my felicity from Lady Sharlot, in her friendship, her constancy, her piety, her household cares, her maternal tenderness. You think not of any excellence of your mistress that is more than skin-deep----

_Cam._ When I know her further than skin-deep I'll tell you more of my mind.

_Ld. H._ O fie, Tom, how can you talk so lightly of a woman you love with honour.--But tell me, I wonder how you make your approaches in besieging such a sort of creature--she that loves addresses, gallantry, fiddles; that reigns and delights in a crowd of admirers. If I know her, she is one of those you may easily have a general acquaintance with, but hard to make particular.

_Cam._ You understand her very well. You must know I put her out of all her play by carrying it in a humourous manner. I took care in all my actions, before I discovered the lover, that she should in general have a good opinion of me; and have ever since behaved myself with all the good humour and ease I was able; so that she is now extremely at a loss how to throw me from the familiarity of an acquaintance into the distance of a lover; but I laugh her out of it. When she begins to frown and look grave at my mirth, I mimic her till she bursts out a-laughing.

_Ld. H._ That's ridiculous enough.

_Cam._ By Cabinet's interest over my Lady Brumpton, with gold and flattery to Mrs. Fardingale, an old maid her ladyship has placed about the young ladies, I have easy access at all times, and am this very day to be admitted by her into their apartment. I have found, you must know, that she is my relation.

_Ld. H._ Her ladyship has chose an odd companion for young ladies.

_Cam._ Oh, my lady's a politician. She told Tattleaid one day, that an old maid was the best guard for young ones, for they, like eunuchs in a seraglio, are vigilant out of envy of enjoyments they cannot themselves arrive at. But, as I was saying, I've sent my cousin Fardingale a song, which she and I are to practise to the spinet. The young ladies will be by; and I am to be left alone with Lady Harriot; then I design to make my grand attack, and to-day win or lose her. I know, sir, this is an opportunity you want. If you'll meet me at Tom's,[21] have a letter ready, I'll myself deliver it to your mistress, conduct you into the house, and tell her you are there--and find means to place you together. You must march under my command to-day, as I have many a one under yours.

_Ld. H._ But 'faith, Tom, I shall not behave myself with half the resolution you have under mine, for to confess my weakness, though I know she loves me, though I know she is as steadfastly mine as her heart can make her; I know not how, I have so sublime an idea of her high value, and such a melting tenderness dissolves my whole frame when I am near her, that my tongue falters, my nerves shake, and my heart so alternately sinks and rises, that my premeditated resolves vanish into confusion, down-cast eyes, and broken utterance----

_Cam._ Ha! ha! ha! this in a campaigner too! Why, my lord, that's the condition Harriot would have me in, and then she thinks she could have me; but I, that know her better than she does herself, know she'd insult me, and lead me a two years' dance longer, and perhaps in the end turn me into the herd of the many neglected men of better sense, who have been ridiculous for her sake. But I shall make her no such sacrifice. 'Tis well my Lady Sharlot's a woman of so solid an understanding; I don't know another that would not use you ill for your high value.

_Ld. H._ But, Tom, I must see your song you've sent your cousin Fardingale, as you call her.

_Cam._ This is lucky enough [_Aside_]. No; hang it, my lord, a man makes so silly a figure when his verses are reading. Trim--thou hast not left off thy loving and thy rhyming; Trim's a critic, I remember him a servitor at Oxon [_Gives a paper to_ TRIM]. I give myself into his hands, because you shan't see 'em till I'm gone. My lord, your servant, you shan't stir.

_Ld. H._ Nor you neither then. [_Struggling._]

_Cam._ You will be obeyed. [_Exeunt._ LORD HARDY _waits on him down._

_Trim._ What's in this song? Ha! don't my eyes deceive me--a bill of three hundred pounds----

"MR. CASH,

"Pray pay to Mr. William Trim, or bearer, the sum of three hundred pounds, and place it to the account of,

"Sir,

"Your humble servant,

"THOMAS CAMPLEY."

[_Pulling off his hat and bowing._] Your very humble servant, good Mr. Campley. Ay, this is poetry--this is a song indeed! Faith, I'll set it, and sing it myself. Pray pay to Mr. William Trim--so far in recitativo--three hundred [_singing ridiculously_]--hun--dred--hundred--hundred thrice repeated, because 'tis three hundred pounds--I love repetitions in music, when there's a good reason for it,--po--unds after the Italian manner. If they'd bring me such sensible words as these, I'd outstrip all your composers for the music prize. This was honestly done of Mr. Campley, though I have carried him many a purse from my master when he was ensign to our Company in Flanders----

_Enter_ LORD HARDY.

My lord, I am your lordship's humble servant.

_Ld. H._ Sir, your humble servant. But pray, my good familiar friend, how come you to be so very much my humble servant all of a sudden?

_Trim._ I beg pardon, dear sir, my lord, I am not your humble servant.

_Ld. H._ No!

_Trim._ Yes, my lord, I am, but not as you mean; but I am--I am, my lord--in short, I'm overjoyed.

_Ld. H._ Overjoyed! thou'rt distracted, what ails the fellow? Where's Campley's song?

_Trim._ Oh! my lord, one would not think 'twas in him. Mr. Campley's really a very great poet; as for the song, 'tis only as they all end in rhyme: Ow--woe--isses--kisses--boy--joy. But, my lord, the other in long heroic blank verse.

[_Reading it with a great tone._

Pray pay to Mr. William Trim, or order, the sum of--How sweetly it runs! Pactolian guineas chink every line.

_Ld. H._ How very handsomely this was done in Campley! I wondered, indeed, he was so willing to show his verses. In how careless a manner that fellow does the greatest actions!

_Trim._ My lord, pray my lord, shan't I go immediately to Cutpurse's?

_Ld. H._ No, sirrah, now we have no occasion for it.

_Trim._ No, my lord, only to stare him full in the face after I have received this money, not say a word, but keep my hat on, and walk out. Or perhaps not hear, if any I meet with speak to me, but grow stiff, deaf, and shortsighted to all my old acquaintance, like a sudden rich man as I am. Or, perhaps, my lord, desire Cutpurse's clerk to let me leave fifty pounds at their house, payable to Mr. William Trim, or order, till I come that way, or, a month or two hence, may have occasion for it: I don't know what bills may be drawn upon me. Then when the clerk begins to stare at me, till he pulls the great goose-quill from behind his ear [_Pulls a handfull of farthings out_] I fall a-reckoning the pieces as I do these farthings.

_Ld. H._ Well, sirrah, you may have your humour, but be sure you take four score pounds, and pay my debts immediately. If you meet any officer you ever see me in company with, that looks grave at Cutpurse's house, tell him I'd speak with him: We must help our friends. But learn moderation, you rogue, in your good fortune; be at home all the evening after, while I wait at Tom's to meet Campley, in order to see Lady Sharlot.

My good or ill in her alone is found, And in that thought all other cares are drowned. [_Exeunt._