The Dramatist; or Stop Him Who Can! Part 5

_Vapid._ Either this house is a labyrinth, or I, in reflecting on my incident, have forgot myself; for so it is I can't find my way out--who have we here? by the sixtieth night, my little partner!

_Enter MARIANNE, with a Book in her Hand._

_Mari._ The poet I danced with!--he little thinks how much I've thought of him since--Sir. [_Courtesying._

_Vapid._ Ma'am. [_Bowing._]

_Mari._ I hope, sir, you caught no cold the other night?

_Vapid._ No, ma'am, I was much nearer a fever than a cold.--Pray, ma'am, what is your study?

_Mari._ I have been reading "All for Love."--Pray, sir, do you know any thing about plays?

_Vapid._ Know any thing about plays!--there's a question!

_Mari._ I know so much about them, that I once acted at a private theatre.

_Vapid._ Did you? Then you acted for your own amus.e.m.e.nt, and n.o.body's else: what was the play?

_Mari._ I can't tell!

_Vapid._ Can't tell?

_Mari._ No,--n.o.body knew,--it's a way they have.

_Vapid._ Then they never act a play of mine.--With all this partiality for the stage--perhaps you would be content with a dramatist for life--particularly if his morals were fine?

_Mari._ Lord! I don't care about fine morals--I'd rather my husband had fine teeth,--and I'm told most women of fas.h.i.+on are of the same opinion.

_Vapid._ To be sure they are,--but could you really consent to run away with a poet?

_Mari._ 'Faith--with all my heart--they never have any money, you know, and, as I have none, our distress would be complete; and, if we had any luck, our adventures would become public, and then we should get into a novel at last.

_Vapid._ Into a prison, more probably--if she goes on in this way, I must dramatize her first,--and run away with her afterwards. [_Aside._]

Come, are you ready?

_Lady W._ [_Without._] Tell my lord, sir, I'll wait in the library.

_Mari._ Oh lord! my aunt, what's to be done?

_Vapid._ What's to be done!--why?

_Mari._ She mustn't find you here--she'll be the death of us, she is so violent.

_Vapid._ Well, I'm not afraid--she's no manager.

_Mari._ If you have any pity for me--here--hide yourself for a moment behind this sofa, and I'll get her out of the room directly.

_Vapid._ Behind the sofa! here's an incident!

_Mari._ Nay--pray--she's here! come--quick!--quick!--

[_VAPID gets behind the Sofa, MARIANNE sits on it, takes out her work bag, and begins singing----_

_Mari._ Toll de roll, &c.

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T._

_Lady._ Marianne, how came you here? I desire you'll leave the room directly.

_Mari._ Leave the room, aunt?

_Lady._ Yes, leave the room immediately--what are you looking at?

_Mari._ Nothing, aunt, nothing--Lord! lord! what will become of poor, poor Mr Poet? [_Exit._

_Lady._ So--here's my lord--now to mention Ennui's play, and if it does but prejudice him against him, Willoughby marries Louisa, and Neville is in my own power.

_Enter LORD SCRATCH._

_Lord._ That curst pantomime ruffian! n.o.body knows any thing about him--perhaps my lady has got a sudden touch of the dramatic mania, and prefers him--here she is--now if she would talk about the stage.

_Lady._ Pray be seated, my lord--I want to ask you a favour.

_Lord._ Ask me a favour? Is it possible? [_They sit._

_Lady._ Yes, for your friend Ennui--what do you think he has done?

_Lord._ What?

_Lady._ Turned author.--He has written a comedy.

_Lord._ A comedy!--she has it.

_Lady._ Yes--it's very true, and it has been approved of by men of the first dramatic fame.

_Lord._ Dramatic fame! she has it!--dam'me, she has it!

_Lady._ Nay, if you need farther proof, my lord, it has been approved by the manager of one of the theatres, and the curtain is to draw up next winter.

_Lord._ The curtain draw up!--Look ye, madam, I care no more for the manager or his theatre----

_Lady._ Now, my lord, the favour I have to ask of you is this--promise me to peruse the play, make alterations, and write the epilogue.

_Lord._ The epilogue!--fire and forefathers! [_LADY holds him._

_Lady._ Ay, or the prologue.

_Lord._ The prologue! blood and gunpowder!