The Old Bachelor: a Comedy Part 4

SHARP. Is that bully of his in the army?

BELL. No; but is a pretender, and wears the habit of a soldier, which nowadays as often cloaks cowardice, as a black gown does atheism. You must know he has been abroad--went purely to run away from a campaign; enriched himself with the plunder of a few oaths, and here vents them against the general, who, slighting men of merit, and preferring only those of interest, has made him quit the service.

SHARP. Wherein no doubt he magnifies his own performance.

BELL. Speaks miracles, is the drum to his own praise--the only implement of a soldier he resembles, like that, being full of bl.u.s.tering noise and emptiness--

SHARP. And like that, of no use but to be beaten.

BELL. Right; but then the comparison breaks, for he will take a drubbing with as little noise as a pulpit cus.h.i.+on.

SHARP. His name, and I have done?

BELL. Why, that, to pa.s.s it current too, he has gilded with a t.i.tle: he is called Capt. Bluffe.

SHARP. Well, I'll endeavour his acquaintance--you steer another course, are bound--

For love's island: I, for the golden coast.

May each succeed in what he wishes most.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

SIR JOSEPH WITTOLL, SHARPER _following_.

SHARP. Sure that's he, and alone.

SIR JO. Um--Ay, this, this is the very d.a.m.ned place; the inhuman cannibals, the b.l.o.o.d.y-minded villains, would have butchered me last night. No doubt they would have flayed me alive, have sold my skin, and devoured, etc.

SHARP. How's this!

SIR JO. An it hadn't been for a civil gentleman as came by and frighted 'em away--but, agad, I durst not stay to give him thanks.

SHARP. This must be Bellmour he means. Ha! I have a thought--

SIR JO. Zooks, would the captain would come; the very remembrance makes me quake; agad, I shall never be reconciled to this place heartily.

SHARP. 'Tis but trying, and being where I am at worst, now luck!--cursed fortune! this must be the place, this d.a.m.ned unlucky place--

SIR JO. Agad, and so 'tis. Why, here has been more mischief done, I perceive.

SHARP. No, 'tis gone, 'tis lost--ten thousand devils on that chance which drew me hither; ay, here, just here, this spot to me is h.e.l.l; nothing to be found, but the despair of what I've lost. [_Looking about as in search_.]

SIR JO. Poor gentleman! By the Lord Harry I'll stay no longer, for I have found too--

SHARP. Ha! who's that has found? What have you found? Restore it quickly, or by--

SIR JO. Not I, sir, not I; as I've a soul to be saved, I have found nothing but what has been to my loss, as I may say, and as you were saying, sir.

SHARP. Oh, your servant, sir; you are safe, then, it seems. 'Tis an ill wind that blows n.o.body good. Well, you may rejoice over my ill fortune, since it paid the price of your ransom.

SIR JO. I rejoice! agad, not I, sir: I'm very sorry for your loss, with all my heart, blood and guts, sir; and if you did but know me, you'd ne'er say I were so ill-natured.

SHARP. Know you! Why, can you be so ungrateful to forget me?

SIR JO. O Lord, forget him! No, no, sir, I don't forget you--because I never saw your face before, agad. Ha, ha, ha!

SHARP. How! [_Angrily_.]

SIR JO. Stay, stay, sir, let me recollect--he's a d.a.m.ned angry fellow--I believe I had better remember him, until I can get out of his sight; but out of sight out of mind, agad. [_Aside_.]

SHARP. Methought the service I did you last night, sir, in preserving you from those ruffians, might have taken better root in your shallow memory.

SIR JO. Gads-daggers-belts-blades and scabbards, this is the very gentleman! How shall I make him a return suitable to the greatness of his merit? I had a pretty thing to that purpose, if he ha'n't frighted it out of my memory. Hem! hem! sir, I most submissively implore your pardon for my transgression of ingrat.i.tude and omission; having my entire dependence, sir, upon the superfluity of your goodness, which, like an inundation, will, I hope, totally immerge the recollection of my error, and leave me floating, in your sight, upon the full-blown bladders of repentance--by the help of which, I shall once more hope to swim into your favour. [_Bows_.]

SHARP. So-h, oh, sir, I am easily pacified, the acknowledgment of a gentleman--

SIR JO. Acknowledgment! Sir, I am all over acknowledgment, and will not stick to show it in the greatest extremity by night or by day, in sickness or in health, winter or summer; all seasons and occasions shall testify the reality and grat.i.tude of your superabundant humble servant, Sir Joseph Wittoll, knight. Hem! hem!

SHARP. Sir Joseph Wittoll?

SIR JO. The same, sir, of Wittoll Hall in _Comitatu_ Bucks.

SHARP. Is it possible! Then I am happy to have obliged the mirror of knighthood and pink of courtesie in the age. Let me embrace you.

SIR JO. O Lord, sir!

SHARP. My loss I esteem as a trifle repaid with interest, since it has purchased me the friends.h.i.+p and acquaintance of the person in the world whose character I admire.

SIR JO. You are only pleased to say so, sir. But, pray, if I may be so bold, what is that loss you mention?

SHARP. Oh, term it no longer so, sir. In the scuffle last night I only dropt a bill of a hundred pound, which, I confess, I came half despairing to recover; but, thanks to my better fortune--

SIR JO. You have found it, sir, then, it seems; I profess I'm heartily glad--

SHARP. Sir, your humble servant. I don't question but you are, that you have so cheap an opportunity of expressing your grat.i.tude and generosity, since the paying so trivial a sum will wholly acquit you and doubly engage me.

SIR JO. What a d.i.c.kens does he mean by a trivial sum? [_Aside_.] But ha'n't you found it, sir!

SHARP. No otherwise, I vow to Gad, but in my hopes in you, sir.

SIR JO. Humh.