-Here's a power of news: Let me see- [Reads.]| "Letters from the Vice-Admiral, dated Tyger, off Calcutta. [Mutters so himself very eagerly.[ -Odd's heart, those baggages will interrupt me; I hear their tongues a-going, clink, clack, clack: I'll run into my closet, and lock myself up.-A SCENE I.-The Upholsterer's House. Enter QUIDNUNC. vixen! a trollop! to want money from me, when I may have occasion to buy the stale of the Sinking Fund, or Faction Detected, or The Barrier Treaty-or-and, besides, how could the jade tell, but to-morrow we may have a Gazette Extraordinary? [Exit. ACT II. Quid. Where, where, where is he? Where's Mr. Pamphlet? Mr. Pamphlet! TermagantMr. -a-a-Termagant, Harriet, Termagant, you vile minx, you saucy— Enter TERMAGANT. Ter. Here's a racket, indeed! Quid. Where's Mr. Pamphlet? You baggage, if he's gone Ter. Did not I intimidate that he's in the next room? Why, sure the man is out of his wits! Quid. Show him in here, then-I would not miss seeing him for the discovery of the northeast passage. Ter. Go, you old gemini gomini of a politic! [Exit TER. Quid. Show him in, I say; I had rather see him than the whole state of the peace at Utrecht, or the Paris-a-la-main, or the votes, or the minutes, or here he comes-the best political writer of the age. Enter PAMPHLET, in a surtout coat, &c. Quid. Mr. Pamphlet, I am heartily glad to see turn a penny by an earthquake, or live upon a jail-distemper, or dine upon a bloody murder!— but now that's all over-nothing will do now but roasting a minister, or telling the people that they are ruined-The people of England are never so happy as when you tell them they are ruined. Quid. Yes, but they an't ruined—I have a scheme for paying off the national debt. Pam. Let us see, let us see. [Puts on his spectacles.] Well enough! well imagined!—a new thought this! I must make this my own. [Aside.] Silly, futile, absurd, abominable; this will never do—I'll put it in my pocket, and read it over in the morning for you- Now, look you here; I'll show you a scheme. [Rummaging his pockets.] No, that's not it; that's my conduct of the ministry, by a country gentleman; I proved the nation undone here: this sold hugely; and here now, here's my answer to it by a noble lordthis did not move among the trade. Quid. What, do you write on both sides? Pam. Yes, both sides; I have two hands, Mr. Quidnunc; always impartial, ambo dexter. Now, here, here's my dedication to a great man; touched twenty for this; and here, here's my libel upon him Quid. What, after being obliged to him? Pam. Yes, for that reason-It excites curiosity-White-wash and blacking-ball, Mr. Quidnunc ! in utrumque paratus-no thriving with out it. Quid. What have you here in this pocket? [Prying eagerly. Pam. That's my account with Jacob Zorobabel the broker, for writing paragraphs to raise or tumble the stocks, or the price of lottery tickets, according to his purposes. Quid. Ay! how do you do that? Pam. As thus-To-day the protestant interest declines, Madras is taken, and England is undone; then, all the long faces in the alley look as dismal as a blank; and so Jacob buys away, and thrives upon our ruin. Then, to-morrow, we are all alive and merry again; Pondicherry's taken; a certain northern potentate will shortly strike a blow to astonish all Europe: and, then, every true-born Englishman is willing to buy a lottery-ticket for twenty or thirty shillings more than its worth; so Jacob sells away, and reaps the fruit of our success. Quid. What! will the people believe that now? Pam. Believe it! believe any thing-No swallow like a true-born Englishman's- -A man in a quart bottle, or a victory, 'tis all one to them they give a gulph-and down it goes -glib, glib Quid. Yes; but they an't at the bottom of things. Pam. No, not they; they dabble a little, but can't dive Quid. Pray now, Mr. Pamphlet, what do you think of our situation? Pam. Bad, sir, bad-And how can it be better? the people in power never send to me never consult me; it must be bad; now, here, here [Goes to his loose coat.] here is a manuscript! this will do the business, a master-piece! 1 shall be taken up for this Quid. Shall ye? Pam. As sure as a gun, I shall; I know the bookseller's a rogue, and will give me up. Quid. But, pray now, what shall you get by being taken up? Pam. I'll tell you-[Whispers.] in order to make me hold my tongue. Quid. Ay, but you won't hold your tongue for all that. In deep thought, without look ing at each other. Quid. Ay, we must leave all to the determination of time. Mr. Pamphlet, I'm heartily obliged to you for this visit-I love you better than any man in England. Pam. And, for my part, Mr. Quidnunc-I love you better than I do England itself. Quid. That's kind, that's kind-there's nothing I would not do, Mr. Pamphlet, to serve you. Pam. Mr. Quidnunc, I know you are a man of integrity and honour-I know you are-and now since we have opened our hearts, there is a thing, Mr. Quidnunc, in which you can serve me —You know, sir, this is the fullness of our hearts -you know you have my note for a trifle; hard dealings with assignees. Now, could not you, to -could not you throw that serve a friend- Pam. Leave that to me; a refined stroke of policy-Papers have been destroyed in all governments. Quid. So they have; it shall be done; it will be political; it will, indeed. Pray, now, Mr. Pamphlet, what do you take to be the true political balance of power? Pam. What do I take to be the balance of power? Quid. Ay, the balance of power? Pam. The balance of power! what do I take to be the balance of power? the balance of power! [Shuts his eyes.] what do I take to be the balance of power? Quid. The balance of power I take to be, when the court of aldermen sits. Pam. No, no~~~ Quid. Yes, yes Pam. No, no; the balance of power is when the foundations of government and the superstructures are natural. Quid. How d'ye mean natural ? Pam. Prythee be quiet, man. This is the language The balance of power is- when superstructures are reduced to proper balances, or when the balances are not reduced to unnatural superstructures. Quid. Poh, poh! I tell you it is when the Pam. Hear me, Mr. Quidnunc- Quid. I am convinced, sir- Pan. Depends upon the balances and superstructures Quid. Constitutes the true political equilibrium face Both in a passion. Pam. Nor will I converse with a manQuid. And, sir, I never desire to see your Pam. Of such anti-constitutional prinples-Quid. Nor the face of any man who is such a Frenchman in his heart, and has such notions of the balance of power. [Exeunt. Pam. Yes, sir, to hang you. [Drawing on his coat.] Did not you propose but this moment-did not you desire me to combine and confederate to burn a note, and defraud your creditors? Quid. I desire it! Pam. Yes, Mr. Quidnunc; but I shall detect you to the world. I'll give your character-You shall have a sixpenny touch next week. Flebit et insignis tota contabitur urbe. [Exit PAMPHLET. Quid. Mercy on me! there's the effect of his anti-constitutional principles! the spirit of his whole party; I never desire to exchange another word with him. Quid. No, you trollop, no- you go to bed? Quid. No, no, no, no! I tell you. Ter. Better to go to rest, sir. I heard a doctor of physic say, as how, when a man is past his grand crime-what the deuce make me forgot my word? his grand crime-hysteric-nothing is so good against indiscompositions as rest taken in its prudish natalibus. Quid. Hold your prating! I'll not go to bed; I'll step to my brother Feeble; I want to have some talk with him, and I'll go to him directly. [Exit QUID. Ter. Go thy ways for an old Hocus-pocus of a newspaper! You'll have good luck if you find your daughter here when you come back. Mr. Belmour will be here in the interim; and if he does not carry her off, why then, I shall think him a mere shilly-shally feller; and, by my troth, I shall think him as bad a politishing as yourself! [Exit. SCENE III.-The Street. Enter QUINDUNC, with a dark lanthorn. Quid. Ay, about the Prussians, or the Russians? Watch. Russians, master! Quid. Yes; or the movements in Pomerania? Watch. La, master, I know nothing. Poor gentleman! [Pointing to his head.] Good night to you, master. Past eleven o'clock. [Exit Watchman. Quid. That man, now, has a place under the government, and he won't speak. But I am losing time. [Knocks at the door.] Hazy weather! [Looking up.] The wind is fixt in that quarter, and we shan't have any mails this week to come. Come about, good wind, do, come about. Enter a Servant Maid. Quid. If the Grand Turk should actually commence open hostility, and the house-bug Tar-serve me thus? tars make a diversion upon the frontiers, why, then, 'tis my opinion-time will discover to us a great deal more of the matter. Watch. [Without.] Past eleven o'clock, a cloudy night. Feeb. Poor man! he's stark staring mad. you Quid. Our men diverted themselves with killing their bullocks and their camels, till they dislodged the enemy from the octagon, and the counterscarp, and the bung-lo Feeb. I'll hear the rest to-morrow morning Quid. Ìley! past eleven o'clock-'Sbodikins, my brother Feeble will be gone to bed; but he shan't sleep till I have some chat with him.-Oh! I'm ready to die! Hark ye, watchman, watchman! Quid, Odsheart map, be of good cheer—the Feeb. But dear heart, Mr. Quidnunc, why am I to be disturbed for this? Quid. We had but two scapoys killed, three chokeys, four gaul-walls, and two zemidars.[Sings.] Britons never shall be slaves! Feeb. Would not to-morrow morning do as well for this? Quid. Light up your windows, man; light up Quid. Here; here's the Gazette!- now I've made him happy--I'll go and knock Enter QUIDNUNC, with a dark lanthorn. Quid. Ah, friend Razor !-he has a great re[Going.spect for a rejoicing night-Who knows but he has heard some more particulars. [Sits down. Quid. Ay, av, sit down, and I'll read it to you. [Reads.] Nay, don't run away-I've more news to tell you!--there's an account from Williamsburgh in America-The superintendant of Indian affairs Feeb. Dear sir, dear sir Quid. He has settled matters with the Chero kces Feeb. Enough, enough [Avoiding him. [Following him. [From him. down. Quid. In the same manner he did before with the Catabaws. Feeb. Well, well, your servant [From him, Quid. So that the back inhabitants Enter Razor, a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard in his hand. Raz. Here's to you, Master Quidnunc! Quid. What have you heard? What have you heard? Raz. The consumers of oats are to meet next Quid. So that the back inhabitants will now be secured by the Cherokees and Cata-week. baws Quid. Those consumers of oats have been Feeb. You'd better go home, and think of ap-meeting any time these ten years to my knowpearing before the commissionersledge, and I never could find what they are about. Raz. Ay, a rebel-I earned nineteen-pence half-penny to day, and she wanted to lay out all that great sum upon the children-whu!--but I bought those candles for the good of my country, to rejoice with, as a body may say a little Quid. I'll be with you before you're out of Virginy for my pipe, and this sup of hotyour first sleep Feeb. Good-night, good-night [Runs off Quid. I forgot to tell you -the emperor of Morocco is dead. [Bawling after him.] So―― whu Quid. Ay, you're an honest man: and if every body did like you and me, what a nation we should be![Shakes his head. Raz. Ay; very truc Enter BELMOUR and HARRIET. Har. Mr. Belmour, pray, sir-- I desire, sir, you'll not follow me from room to room. Bel. Indulge me but a moment. Har. No, Mr. Belmour, I've seen too much of your temper-I'm touched beyond all enduring at your unmanly treatment. Bel. Unnanly, madam? Har. Unmanly, sir! to presume upon the misfortunes of my family, and insult me with the formidable menaces that, Truly you have done; you'll be no more a slave to me.'-Oh fie, Mr. Belmour! I did not think a gentleman capable of it. Bel. But you won't consider.— Har. Sir, I would have Mr. Belmour understand, that though my father's circumstances are embarrassed I have still an uncle, who can, and will, place me in a state of affluence; and then sir, your declarations Bel. My dearest Harriet, they were but hasty words; let me now entreat you will suffer me to convey you hence, far from your father's roof, where we may at length enjoy that happiness, of which we have long cherished the loved ideaWhat say, you Harriet? Har. I don't know what to say—my heart's at my lips.Why don't you take me, then? Enter TERMAGANT. Belmour's letter to Miss Harriet--I enveloped that secret for all pains to purvent me.--Old Politic must not have an idear of that business -Stay, stay; is there ne'er an old trumpery newspaper?-this will do-[ Puts it in her pocket.] Now let the Gazette of a fellow come as soon as he will. Enter QUIDNUNC. Quid. Fie it!upon -fie upon it !—all the coffee-houses shut up-Where is my Salmon's gazetteer, and my map of the world?-in that room, I fancy-I won't sleep till I know the geography of a 1 these places. Ter. Sir, sir, sir! Quid. What's the matter? Ter. Here has been Mr.odd name. [Going. -he with the Quid. Mr. D-that writes the pretty verses upon all public occasions Ter. Ay, Mr. Reptile; the same. He says as how there are some assays of his in this paper, [Searches her pockets.] and he desires you will give your idear of them. Quid. That I will-let me sec!- Ter. The deuce fetch it! here is something distintangles in my pocket; there it is. [Gives the paper, and drops the letter.] Pray amuse it before you go to bed; or had not you better go and read it in bed? Quid. No, I'll read it here. Ter. Do so; he'll call in the morning. I'll get him to bed, I warrant me; and then Miss Harriet may elope as fast as she will. [Exit TERMAGANT. Quid. Hey! this is an old newspaper, I see. What's this? [Takes up the letter.] Here may be some news- To Miss Harriet Quidnunc.'Let me see! [Reads.] cape, I hope?—So madam BELMOUR.' So, so! here's policy detected-Why Harriet, Ter. Undone, undone! I'm all over in a flus- daughter! Harriet! She has not made her estration-old Jimini Gomini's coming. Har. O lud, what is to be done now? Ter. The devil! what can be done? I have it -don't flustrate yourself—I'll find some nonsense news for him-away with you both into Quick, quick! that room. [Exeunt BELMOUR and HARRIET. Let me see-have I nothing in my pocket for the old bocus pocus to read? Psha! that's Mr. Enter HARRIET and BELMOUR. Hey, the enemy in our camp! Quid. No! What does he lurk in my house for? Bel. Sir, my designs are honourable; you see, sir, I am above concealing myself. |