Enter SIR HARRY GROVEBY and MR. DUPELEY, my eagerness to see you, was that of being in meeting. time for the fête champétre-Novelty and pleasure are the beings I pursue-They have led me half the world over already, and, for ought I know, they may some time or other carry me to the Otaheite. Sir Har. Dear Charles, welcome to England! and doubly welcome to Oldworth's OaksFriendship, I see, has wings, as well as loveyou arrived at the moment I wished: I hope, Sir Har. You have pursued but their shadows in your haste, you have not forgot a fancy-bere they reign, in the manners of this new arcadia, and the smiles of the sweet Maid of the Dupe. No, no; I am a true friend, and pre- Oaks. dress. Dupe. Who, in the name of curiosity, is she [ be had, you need not be in such haste about that bears this romantic title? for your letter them-Mercy on us! my fête has turned this was a mere eclogue; the devil a thing could I poor fellow's head already, he will certainly get make out, but a rhapsody upon rural inno- a fever. cence, and an invitation from a gentleman I did not know, to an entertainment I never sawWhat, are we to have a representation of the pastor-fido in a garden. Sir Har. The pastor-fido is before you in propria persona; the business of the day is a wedding-and Charles Dupeley is invited to see his friend, Sir Harry Groveby, united to the most charming of her sex. Dupe. The devil it is! What a young fellow of your hopes and fortune, sacrificed to a marriage of romance!-But, pr'ythee, relieve my impatience, and tell me who she is. Sir Har. An orphan ward of the worthy old gentleman, at whose seat you now are: his character is singular, and as amiable in its way as her's. Inheriting a great estate, and liberally educated, his disposition led him early to a country life, where his benevolence and hospitality are boundless; and these qualities, joined with an imagination bordering upon the whimsical, have given a peculiar turn to the manners of the neighbourhood, that, in my opinion, degrades the polish of courts-but judge of the original. Enter OLDWOrth. Mr. Oldworth, I present you my friend; he is just arrived from abroad; I will not repeat how much he is worthy of your friendship. Old. To be worthy of your's, Sir Harry, is the best recommendation. [To DUPELEY.]-Sir, your friend, is going to receive from my hands, a lovely girl, whose merit he has discerned and loved for its own sake: Such nuptials should recall the ideas of a better age, he has permitted me to celebrate them upon my own plan, and I shall be happy to receive the judgment of an accomplished critic. Hurry. Get a favour, sir!-why there has not been one left these three hours; all the girls in the parish have been scrambling for them, and I must get a hundred yards more-Lord a mercy! there is so much to do at once, and nobody to do it, that it is enough to moider one's head. [OLDWORTH and HURRY talk together. Dupe. Ha, ha, ha! is this one of the examples you produce, Sir Harry, to degrade the polish of courts? Sir Har. If I did, have you never met with a courtier in your travels, as busy, as important, and as insignificant, upon yet more trifling occasions?-Why, my friend Hurry is the true bustle of an anti-chamber, with this difference, that there is rather more attachment and fidelity to the master at the bottom of it. [During this speech HURRY is expressing, by his action, his impatience for OLDWORTH to go. Hurry. La, sir, if you loiter longer, I tell you, they will all be at loggerheads-they were [Exit. very near it when I came away. Öld. Mr. Dupely, you'll excuse me-Hurry convinces me my presence is necessary elsewhere this is a busy day! Dupe. The greatest compliment you can pay me, is not to look upon me as a stranger. Old. I forgot to tell you, Sir Harry, that Lady Bab Lardoon is in the neighbourhood, and I expect her every moment-she promised to be with us long before the hour of general invitation. Dupe. Who is she, pray? Sir Har. Oh, she's a superior!-a phoenix!more worthy your curiosity than any object of your travels!-She is an epitome, or rather a caricature of what is called very fine life, and the first female gamester of the time. Old. For all that, she is amiable-one cannot Dupe. Sir, by what I already see of Old-help discerning and admiring the natural excelworth's Oaks, and know of the character of the lence of her heart and understanding; though master, I am persuaded the talent most neces- she is an example, that neither is proof against sary for the company will be that of giving due a false education, and a rage for fashionable expraise. cesses- -But when you see her, she will best explain herself-This fellow will give me no Enter HURRY. Hurry. Lord, sir, come down to the building directly-all the trades are together by the cars -it is for all the world like the tower of Babylon-they have drove a broad-wheel waggon over two hampers of wine, and it is all running among lilies and honey-suckles-one of the cooks stumbled over one of the clouds, and threw a ham and chickens into a tub of white wash-a lamplighter spilt a gallon of oil into a creamed apple-tart, and they have sent for more roses, and there is not one left within twenty miles. Old. Why, honest Hurry, if there is none to rest. Enter HURRY. Hurry. Rest, sir, why I have not slept this fortnight; come along, sir, pray make hastenothing's to be done without it. Old. Nor with it, honest Hurry. [Exit with HURRY. Dupe. A cunning old fellow, I warrant !with his ward, and his love of merit for its own sake'-ha, ha, ha!-pr'ythee, how came your acquaintance in this odd family? Sir Har. Don't sneer, and I will tell you By mere chance, in a progress of amusement to this side of the country: The story is too delicate for thy relish, suffice it, that I came, saw, and loved-I laid my rank and fortune at the fair one's feet, and would have married instantly; but that Oldworth opposed my precipitancy, and insisted upon a probation of six months absence-It has been a purgatory! Dupe. All this is perfectly en regle for a man of home education-I should like to see the woman that could entangle me in this manner. Sir Har. There is not a fellow in England has a more susceptible heart: you may have learnt in your foreign tour to disguise it, but if you have lost it, put all your acquisitions together, and the balance will be against you. Dupe. I have learned at least, not to have it imposed upon-Shew me but a woman, from an Italian princess, to a figurante at the French opera; or change the scene, and carry me to the rural nymphs from a vintage in Burgundy, to a dance round a maypole at Oldworth's Oaks and, at the first glance, I will discover the whole extent of their artifice, find their truc lure, and bring them to my hand as easily as a sparrow. Sir Har. And, pray, my sagacious friend, upon what circumstances have you formed your suspicions, that I am more likely to be imposed upon than yourself? Dupe. Upon every one I have seen and heard; but above all, upon that natural propensity of every true home-bred Englishman, to think one woman different to another-Now I hold there is but one woman in the world.. Sir Har. I perfectly agree, and Maria is that charming one. Dupe. Ay, but Maria, and Lady Bab, and Pamela Andrews, and Clarissa Harlowe, and the girl that steals a heart in a country church, or she that picks your pocket in Covent-Garden, are one and the same creature for all that-I am always too quick for them, and make fools of them first-Oh do but try them by the principle I have laid down, you'll find them as transparent as glass. Sir Har. My own principle will answer my purpose just as well; with that perspective I have looked through the woman, and discovered the angel; and you will do the same, when you see her, or never brag of your eyesight more. Dupe. Rhapsody and enthusiasm !—I should as soon discover Mahomet's seventh heaven ;but what says your uncle, Old Groveby, to this match? Sir Har. Faith, I have asked him no questions, and why should I? when I know what must be his answer. Dupe. Oh, he can never disapprove a passion that soars above the stars! drama from the days of Terence, to those of Congreve; though not perhaps with quite so much good humour, and so little obstinacy as my uncle shews. He is ever most impetuous, when most kind; and I dare trust his resentment will end with a dramatic forgiveness. Should it not, I-may have pride in the sacrifice of his estate, but no regret-So much for fortune, Charlesare there any other means to reconcile me to your approbation? Dupe. 'Gad, I know but one more-Have you laid any plan for succeeding at the divorce shop next winter? It would be some comfort to your friends, to see you had a retreat in your head. Sir Har. Charles, I have listened to your raillery with more patience than it deserves, and should at last be out of humour with such an importation of conceit and affectation, if I was not sure your good sense would soon get the better of it. This is called knowing the world-to form notions without, perhaps, ever seeing a man in his natural character, or conversing with a woman of principle; and then, for fear of being imposed upon, be really duped out of the most valuable feelings in human nature, confidence in friendship, and esteem in love. Enter HURRY. Hurry. Lord, sir, I am out of breath to find you-why, almost every thing is ready, except yourself; and, Madam Maria, is gone to the Grove, and she is so dressed, and looks so charming. Sir Har. Propititious be the hour!-Here, find out this gentleman's servant, and shew him where he is to dress. [Erit. Dupe. Oh, take care of yourself, Corydon, the first--I shall be time enough; Hurry shall first shew me a little of the preparation-what is going forward here? [Approaching the side scene. Hurry. Hold, sir, not that way-my master lets nobody see his devices and figuries there. Dupe. Why, what is he doing there, Hurry? Hurry. Doing!-as you are a gentleman, I will tell you what he is doing-I hope nobody hears us. [Looking about.] Why, he is going to make the sun shine at midnight, and he is covering it with a thousand yards of sail cloth, for fear the rain should put it out-Lord, such doings!-here, this way, your honour. Dupe. But, harkye, honest Hurry, do stand still a moment to oblige me. Hurry. Stand still, sir!-lord, sir, if I stand still, every thing stands still, and then what a fine sham-peter should we make of it! [Always restless. Dupe. You seem to know every thing here? Hurry. To be sure I do-I am no fool, I believe-what think you, sir? Sir Har. He has all the prejudices of his years, Dupe. He that takes you for a fool, is not over and worldly knowledge; the common old gen-wise, I warrant him; therefore let me ask you a Tleman's character-You may see it in every question or two. Harry. To-morrow, sir, with all my heart; | I shan't have enough to make the sky clear in but I have so many questions to ask myself, the saloon-that damned Irish painter has made and so many answers to give, that I have not his ground so dingy, one might as soon make his five minutes to spare. head transparent as his portico. Dupe. Three minutes will do my business: Who is this Maid of the Oaks, friend Hurry? Hurry. A young lady, sir. Dupe. I thought as much. [Smiling.] You are a courtier, friend Hurry. Hurry. I court her!-heaven forbid !-she's going to be married, sir. Dupe. Well said, simplicity! If you won't tell me who she is, tell me what she is? Hurry. She is one of the most charmingest, sweetest, delightfulest, mildest, beautifulest, modestest, genteelest, never to be praised enough, young creature all in the world! Dupe. True courtier again! Who is her father, pray? Hurry. It is a wise child that knows its own father-Lord bless her! she does not want a fa ther. Dupe. Not while Mr. Oldworth lives. Hurry. Nor when he is dead neither; every body would be glad to be her father, and every body wishes to be her husband; and so, sir if you have more questions to ask, I'll answer them another time, for I am wanted here, and there, and every where. [Bustles about. Dupe. Shew me my chamber to dress, and I'll desire no more of you at present. Harry. Bless your honour for letting me go; I have been very miserable all the while you were talking to me-this way, this way, sir. [Exit. Dupe. What a character!-yet he has his cunning, though the simplest swain in this region of perfect innocence, as Sir Harry calls itha, ha, ha ! [Erit. Enter Irish Painter. Paint. Arrah! what is it you say of my headMr. Lamp-lighter? 2d Lamp. I say you have spoil'd the transparency by putting black, where you should have put blue. Paint. [Dabbing his brush across his face.] There's a black eye for you; and you may be thankful you got it so easily-Trot away with your ladder upon your shoulder, or the devil fire me but you shall have black and blue both my dear. Arch. [Returning] Good words, good words, gentlemen; no quarrelling-Your servant, Mr. O'Daub; upon my word you have hit off those ornaments very well—the first painter we have here could not have done better. Paint. No faith, I believe not, for all his hard name; sure O'Daub was a scene painter before he was born, though I believe he is older than I too. Arch. You a scene painter! Paint. Ay, by my soul was I, and for foreign countries too. Arch. Where was that, pray. Paint. Faith, I painted a whole set for the Swish, who carries the temple of Jerusalem about upon his back, and it made his fortune, though he got but a halfpenny a-piece for his shew Arch. [Ironically.] I wish we had known your merits, you should certainly have been employed in greater parts of the work. Paint. And by my soul, it would have been better for you if you had-I would have put out Mr. Lanterbug's stars with one dash of my pen SCENE II.-An outside Building, Workmen of cil, by making them five times more bright-Ho! all sorts passing to-and-fro. if you had seen the sign of a setting sun, that I painted for a linen draper, in Bread-street, in Dublin-Devil burn me but the Auroree of Architect as speaking to Persons at work behind O'Guide was a fool to it. the Side Scenes. Arch. Come, bustle away, my lads, strike the scaffold, and then for the twelve o'clock tankard; up with the rest of the festoons there on the top of the columns. 1st Gard. Holloa! you, sir, where are you running with those flowers? 2d Gard. They're wanted for the arcades; we can have no deceit there-if you want more here, you may make them of paper-any thing will go off by candle-light. 1st Lamp. [Running.] They want above a hundred more lamps yonder, for the illumination of the portico. 2d Lamp. Then they may get tallow-candles; Arch. O'Guide!-Who is he? Guido, I suppose you mean. Paint. And if he has an O to his name, what signifies whether it comes before or behindFaith I put it like my own of O'Daub, on the right side, to make him sound more like a gentleman-besides it is more melodious in the mouth, honey. Enter Carpenters, &c. 1st Car. Well. Sir, the scaffold's down, and we are woundy dry-we have toil'd like horses. Arch. Rest you merry, Master Carpentertake a draught of the Squire's liquor, and welcome, you shall swim in it, when all is over. |