Chapter 9

_LADY WAITFOR'T'S Apartment._

_LADY WAITFOR'T discovered at her Toilette. LETTY waiting._

_Lady._ Mr Vapid not come yet, Letty?

_Letty._ No, ma'am,--but the servant, who found him at the tavern, said he would be here immediately.

_Lady._ I protest, I am almost weary of them all.--[_Noise without._] See who's there. [_LETTY listens, and returns._

_Letty._ Mr Vapid at last:--now, pray your ladyship, insist on his explaining every thing to my lord.

_Lady._ Yes; but vilely as he has treated me, I must still be calm.

_VAPID, putting his head in._

Walk in, sir, walk in.

_Vapid._ No, ma'am, I'd rather stay here.

_Lady._ I beg you'll be seated, Mr Vapid--I have something of consequence to impart to you.

_Enter VAPID, gently._

_Vapid._ I'd never have ventured but in hopes of seeing my dear Marianne.

_Lady._ Indeed I will not detain you a moment.

_Vapid._ Very well, ma'am, if that's the case----[_Slowly seating himself._] It's very alarming. [_Aside._

_Lady._ Letty, leave the room, and fasten the door. [_Exit LETTY._

_Vapid._ No, no!--don't do that, I beseech you!

_Lady._ You're very much frightened, Mr Vapid;--I hope you don't suppose I have any design against you?

_Vapid._ I don't know, really, ma'am--such things are perfectly dramatic.

_Lady._ Well, but, to release you from your fears, I'll tell you why I have given you this trouble--My business, Mr Vapid, was to converse with you on the farcical affair that happened at Neville's.

_Vapid._ Farcical!

_Lady._ Yes, sir, the farcical affair that happened at Mr Neville's.

_Vapid._ Farcical?--what, my epilogue, ma'am?--I hope you don't mean to reflect on that?

_Lady._ No, sir, far from it--I have no doubt but it is a very elegant composition.

_Vapid._ Doubt!--here it is, read it!--the very first production of the age! A regular climax of poetic beauty!--the last line the _ne plus ultra_ of genius.

_Lady._ But, to be serious, Mr Vapid----

_Vapid._ Why, I am serious:--and I'll tell you, lady Waitfor't, 'tis the last line of an epilogue, and the last scene of a comedy, that always distracts me--'tis the reconciliation of lovers--there's the difficulty!--You find it so in real life, I dare say?

_Lady._ Yes.--But Mr Vapid, this affair concerns me excessively, and I wish to know what is to be done.

_Vapid._ I'll tell you,--write a play,--and, bad as it may possibly be, say it's a translation from the French, and interweave a few compliments on the English, and, my life on't, it does wonders.--Do it, and say you had the thought from me.

_Lady._ Sir, do you mean to deride me?

_Vapid._ No.--But only be cautious in your style--women are in general apt to indulge that pruriency and warm luxuriancy of fancy they possess,--but do be careful--be decent--if you are not, I have done with you.

_Lady._ Sir, I desire you'll be more respectful.--I don't understand it at all. [_Rising._

_Enter MARIANNE._

_Vapid._ Then here comes one that will explain every thing.

"There's in her all that we believe of Heaven; Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love!"

My dear sweet little partner, I rejoice to see you!

_Mari._ And, my dear sweet Mr Poet, I rejoice to see you!

_Lady._ Provoking!--Have I not told you a thousand times, never to break in upon me when I am alone?

_Mari._ Alone, my lady! do you call Mr Vapid nobody, then?

_Lady._ Suppose I should,--what is that to you?

_Mari._ Then I have a wrong notion of your nobodies.--I always thought them harmless, unmeaning things; but Mr Vapid's not so very harmless either--are you, Mr Vapid?

_Vapid._ Indeed, ma'am, I am not.

_Mari._ There now,--I told you so.--Upon my word, you rely too much on your time of life,--you do indeed. You think, because you're a little the worse for wear, you may trust yourself any where,--but you're mistaken--you're not near so bad as you imagine--nay, I don't flatter, do I, Mr Vapid?

_Vapid._ Indeed, ma'am, you do not.

_Lady._ Look ye, miss,--your insolence is not to be borne--you have been the chief cause of all my perplexities.

_Mari._ Nay, aunt, don't say that.

_Lady._ No matter,--your behaviour is shameless, and it is high time I exerted the authority of a relation--you are a disgrace to me--to yourself, and your friends--therefore, I am determined to put into execution a scheme I have long thought of.

_Mari._ What is it? something pleasant I hope.

_Lady._ No, you shall retire to a convent, till you take possession of your fortune.

_Mari._ A convent! Oh lord! I can't make up my mind to it, now don't, pray don't think of it--I declare it's quite shocking.

_Lady._ It is a far better place than you deserve; my resolution is fixed, and we shall see whether a life of solitude and austerity will not awaken some sense of shame in you.

_Mari._ Indeed, I can't bear the thoughts of it.--Oh do speak to her, Mr Vapid--tell her about the nasty monks, now do,--a convent! mercy! what a check to the passions! Oh! I can't bear it. [_Weeping._

_Vapid._ Gad, here's a sudden touch of tragedy--pray, Lady Waitfor't, reflect--you can't send a lady to a convent when the theatres are open.

_Mari._ It will be the death of me! pray, my dear aunt----

_Lady._ Not a word--I am determined--to-morrow you shall leave this country, and then I have done with you for ever.

_Mari._ Oh! my poor heart! Oh, oh!

_Vapid._ See! she'll faint!

_Mari._ Oh! oh! oh! [_MARIANNE faints in LADY WAITFOR'T'S Arms._

_Lady._ Oh! I have gone too far, Mr Vapid!

_Vapid._ I fly, I'll call the servants. Have you got any drops?

_Lady._ I have some drops in this closet may recover her--hold her a moment, and for heaven's sake take care of her. [_Exit._

[_MARIANNE lays in VAPID'S Arms._

_Vapid._ Here's a situation!--Poor girl!--how I pity her! I really loved her.

_Mari._ Did you really love me, Mr Vapid?

_Vapid._ Hey-day! recovered!--here's incident!

_Mari._ But did you really love me, Mr Vapid?

_Vapid._ Yes I did,--here's stage effect!

_Mari._ And would you have really run away with me, Mr Vapid?

_Vapid._ Yes, I really would.

_Mari._ Then come along this moment.

_Vapid._ Hush!--here's the old lady! keep dying, as before, and we'll effect the business--more equivoque!

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T._

_Lady._ Well, Mr Vapid, how does she do? lord! she's in strong convulsions.

_Vapid._ Yes, ma'am, she's dying; where are the drops?

_Lady._ Here, sir.

_Vapid._ There are very few--are there any more of the same kind?

_Lady._ Yes, plenty.

_Vapid._ Fetch them,--'tis the only hope--if you have any hartshorn too, bring a little of that.

_Lady._ I'm quite shocked! [_Exit._

_Mari._ Well, Mr Vapid, now let's run away--come--why what are you thinking of?

_Vapid._ My last act, and I fear--

_Mari._ What do you fear?

_Vapid._ That it can't be managed--let me see--we certainly run away, and she returns--'faith, I must see her return.

_Mari._ No, no, pray let us begone, think of this another time.

_Vapid._ So I will--it will do for the fourth, though not for the fifth act,--therefore, my dear little girl, come away, and we'll live and die together.

_Mari._ Die together!

_Vapid._ Ay, "Die all! die nobly! die like demi-gods!" [_Exeunt._

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T._

_Lady._ Here, Mr Vapid--here are the drops!--What, gone!--ruined by a writer of epilogues!--Oh! I shall burst with disappointment! [_Exit._