The Dramatist; or Stop Him Who Can! Part 9
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_Ennui._ Get down stairs, you dog--get down,--[_Exit SERVANT._] Here I am, ma'am:--ease is every thing--I'll seat myself--now for business!--yaw--aw!-- [_Yawns aside._
_Louisa._ Sir!
_Ennui._ In one word, I'll tell you my character,--I'm a lad of fas.h.i.+on!--I love gaming--I hate thinking--I like racing--I despise reading--I patronize boxing--I detest reasoning--I pay debts of honour,--not honourable debts--in short, I'll kick your servants--cheat your family, and fight your guardian--and so if you like me, take me--heh, damme!--I'm tired already!--yaw--aw. [_Yawns aside._
_Louisa._ Astonis.h.i.+ng!--Mr Ennui--
_Ennui._ Ma'am? yaw--aw! [_Aside._
_Louisa._ Mr Ennui, can you be in your senses?
_Ennui._ In fact--I don't comprehend [_Forgetting himself._]--Oh--ay--senses! [_Recollecting himself._] a lad of fas.h.i.+on in his senses!--that's a very good joke!--if one of us had any sense, the rest would shut him up in a cabinet of curiosities, or show him as a wonderful animal:--they would, damme!--I can't support it!--yaw--aw!
[_Yawns aside._
_Louisa._ So, you glory in your ignorance?
_Ennui._ Ma'am--yaw! aw! [_Aside._
_Louisa._ So, you glory in your ignorance--in your vices?
_Ennui._ I've an idea--I can't understand--[_Forgetting himself._]--vices! Oh:--ay, damme, to be sure; [_Recollecting himself._]
you must be wicked, or you can't be visited--singularity is every thing,--every man must get a character, and I'll tell you how I first got mine:--I pretended to intrigue with my friend's wife,--paragraph'd myself in the newspapers,--got caricatured in the print-shops--made the story believed,--was abused by every body,--noticed for my gallantry by every body--and at length visited by every body--I was, damme!--I'm curst sleepy,--yaw--aw! [_Yawns aside._
_Louisa._ Incredible!--but if singularity is your system, perhaps being virtuous would make you as particular as any thing.
_Ennui._ Vastly well!--'gad, you're like me, a wit, and don't know it.
[_Taking out his Watch._] How goes the enemy?--more than half the day over!--tol de rol lol! [_Humming a tune._] I'm as happy as if I was at a fire, or a general riot.--Come to my arms, thou angel--thou--[_As he goes to embrace her, LORD SCRATCH enters--he embraces him._]
Ah,--Scratch!--my friend Scratch!--sit down, my old boy--sit down,--we've settled every thing. [_Forces him into a Chair, and sits by him._]
_Lord._ Why,--what is all this?
_Ennui._ She's to intrigue, and you and I are to go halves in the damages--some rich old Nabob--we'll draw him into _crim. con._--bring an action directly, and a ten thousand pound verdict at least--eh, damme!--
_Lord._ Why he's mad!--that dramatic maniac has bit him.
_Ennui._ Get a divorce--marry another, and go halves again, damme!
_Lord._ [_Rising._] Why, look ye, you impostor!--you--didn't you come here to pay your addresses to this lady? and wasn't I to bring you into parliament, for your quiet silent disposition?
_Ennui._ [_Pus.h.i.+ng him out of his way._] Hold your tongue! out of the way, Scratch!--out of the way, or I'll do you a mischief--I will, damme!--Zounds!--a'nt I at the top of the beau monde? and don't I set the fas.h.i.+ons?--if I was to cut off my head, wouldn't half the town do the same?--they would, damme!--I get sleepy again!--yaw--aw!-- [_Aside._
_Lord._ Here now!--here's a mandarin member;--why, he'd have bred a civil war!--made ten long speeches in a day!--cut your head off, indeed!--curse me but I wish you would--you must be silent then--you couldn't talk without a head, could you?
_Ennui._ Yes, in parliament--as well without a head as with one--do you think a man wants a head for a long speech, damme!--
_Enter SERVANT._
_Servant._ Her ladys.h.i.+p is waiting, ma'am.
_Louisa._ Oh, I attend her,--Mr Ennui, your most obedient.
_Ennui._ [_Taking her Hand._] With your leave, ma'am.--You see, Scratch--you see.
_Lord._ Why, Louisa!--
_Ennui._ Keep your distance, Scratch--contemplate your superiors,--look at me with the same awful respect a city beau looks at a prince,--this way, most angelic--Scratch, cut your head off--this way, most angelic.
[_Exit with LOUISA._
_Lord._ Here's treatment!--was ever poor peer so tormented?--what am I to do?--I'll go to Lady Waitfor't, for from her alone I meet relief,--find a silent member, indeed!--by my privilege one might as soon find a pin in the ocean,--charity in a bench of bishops,--or wit in Westminster hall! [_Exit._
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
_The Paddock near LADY WALTON'S House--A View of the House at a distance, and partly moonlight._
_WILLOUGHBY alone._
_Willoughby._ 'Tis past the hour Lady Waitfor't appointed--why does she delay? I cannot have mistaken the place--yonder's Lady Walton's house--Oh! 'would all were past, and Louisa safely mine! I hear a noise--by Heaven 'tis she! and with her all my happiness--I'll withdraw a while, and observe them. [_Retires._
_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T and LOUISA COURTNEY._
_Louisa._ My dear Lady Waitfor't, why do you loiter here? you cannot find your servants in this place--let us return to Lady Walton's.
_Lady._ No, no, they must be here,--I ordered them to wait in this very spot, to avoid confusion. What can have become of Willoughby? [_Aside._
_Louisa._ If you have the least sense of fear for yourself, or regard for me, I beg we may return to Lady Walton's.
_Lady._ No, no, I tell you I ordered William at the back gate, that he might conduct us through the paddock to our carriage; you know we might have been whole hours getting through the crowd the other way--do be a little patient, hav'n't I as much reason to be alarmed as yourself?
_Louisa._ Yes, but you have not the apprehension I have; I don't know why, but I am terrified beyond description.
_Lady._ Well, well, never fear; [_Looking out._] Oh, yonder's Willoughby! now for the grand design! [_Aside._] Louisa, if you'll wait here a moment I'll step to the next gate, and see if they are there;--they cannot escape us then.
_Louisa._ No, no, don't leave me;--I wouldn't stay by myself for the world.
_Lady._ Ridiculous! can't you protect yourself for an instant? must you be all your life watch'd like a baby in leading-strings? Oh! I am ashamed of you--only wait a moment, lest they pa.s.s by in my absence, and I'll return to you immediately.
_Louisa._ Well: don't stay.
_Lady._ Stay! what have you to be frightened at? I shall not be out of call;--besides, if there's any fear of a personal attack, may not I be as terrified as yourself? It isn't the first time, I'll a.s.sure you, but that's no matter;--show yourself a woman of spirit, and, at least, emulate one of my virtues.--Now, Willoughby, the rest is thine! [_Exit._
_WILLOUGHBY comes forward._
The Dramatist; or Stop Him Who Can! Part 9
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