Chapter 8

_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.