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Rur. Yes, but he could not mean to-to

Tom. Why, domnied if ye beant crying. The villain coom-don't take on so-the-the

Rur. No-never mind.

Tom. I wouldn't-if I could only get one crack at his poll, I'd forgive him.

Rur. Don't be violent. I can't-I won't believe my ears against my heart. I'll see him-I'll talk to him as I used.

[Crosses, R. Tom. The heartless reprobate.

Rur. (Sternly.) Tom, I'll not allow you to speak so of your little brother.

Tom. Nay, 'taint bad enough, that's sure.

Rur. God bless me! there—your violence has made me swear-I declare I shall be angry: now, my dear Tomif

you will only leave it all to me, and have patience, you will see that I am right.

Going, followed by Tom grumbling. Tom. Go on- -defend him againRur. If only you would be quiet. Tom. Tould man's getting crazy, I'm thinking, Rur. And have patience—now only a little patience. [Exeunt, L., Rural crying and expostulating, followed

by Tom, grumbling.

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

SCENE I.—Lady Pompion's Boudoir.--Decorated in Ara

besque, furnished very richly in buhl and marqueterie, divans, prideux, causeuses, bergères and dormeuses, covered in chintz ; tambour frame, and work tables-or. namental writing table-alabaster French clock-Indian

screen, fc. LADY Pompon discovered reclining on a bergère, R., with her feet shawled on an Ottoman, and a Spaniel in her lap.

Lady P. [Yawning and closing a book.] Really, parliamont ought to do something for that dear creature, Eugene Sue. I'll speak to the Earl about it! [Strikes a gong.

Enter a richly liveried Servant, L.
Has Willis sent out those invitations ?

Ser. Yes, my lady.
Lady P. I am not at home this morning to any one.

Ser. Lord Charles Roebuck, my lady, is expected every moment.

Lady P. Oh, true! Charles does arrive to-day from Paris : well, tell him the number of my box at the Opera, and my hour in the ring. I dare say we shall meet—my nerves are not equal to receiving him now. (Loud and peculiar knock.] Good heavens! can that be he ?

Ser. No, my lady! that is lady Alice Hawthorn's tiger.

Laily P. I'm not at home I could never survive that girl an hour.

Enter LADY Alice HAWTHORN, L. Lady A. Then prepare to die, my dear aunt, for here I am for the day-ha! ha! [To the Servant.] Tell my groom to bring my carriage at nine. [ To Lady Pompion.) You will excuse my leaving your table at so early an hour, but I never miss the last act of the Barbiere.

Lady P. My head-my head—the salts—the restora. tives.

Lady A. Tom-bring the liqueur case. [Exit Servant, L.) Ha! ha! well, my dear, I heard of Charley's arrival

, so I have come to dine with you-tell me, what is he like? --partiality apart—is he worth making love to ?

Lady P. Charles has not yet arrived home.

Lady A. Why, I saw, by the Post, that he arrived in town last night.

Lady P. Indeed! ah! well !—he might as well have sent a card.

Lady A, A card! has he not rattled you up at four in the morning-broken in your knocker panel, and pulled up the hell by the roots ? Hasn't he dislocated

your

wrist. and kissed

you into an asthma ? hasn'tLady P. Lady Alice, my son has not the manners of Abdel-Kader to take my establishment by such a surprise, and I trust he always leaves bells and knockers to the servants.

Tiady A. Does he ? then Charley's occupation's gone

indeed. But
apropos, Georgy; what fun I had with

your old Earl last night at Almack's-ha! ha! ha!

Lady P. My old Earl !

Lady A. He came in, thawed with a decent dinner; the premier's Steinburg had given the cadavre a bloom; 'pon my life he talked impudence to me.

Lady P. The Earl of Pompion !

Lady A. It would have delighted you to watch such signs of restored animation. A knot of politicians had nearly secured him-politics at Almack's—I darted in in amongst them, crying “ treason," seized Pompey himself, and whirled him into the most delirious polka.

(Hums a polka. Lady P. A polka !

Lady A. Toe and heel, as I'm a widow and a sinner; we threw Jullien into extacies, till I restored the Home Secretary to his party, a wiser and a better man.

Enter Lord PomPION, C., from L. down L. Didn't I, Pompey?

Lord P. Lady Alice, et tous jours gaie, where's my coun tess ?

Lady A. Not up yet, look! [Points to Lady Pompion, who is pulling her Spaniel's ears.] or stay, she is making Bichon's toilette.

Lord P. I forgot to mention that I expect Mr. Coke, of Yorkshire, on a visit: he has lately been returned for Ashby, and I want his interest and a loan to secure Charles for Closeborough—we must show him attention.

Lady P. Very well, write down his name, and I'll send it to the housekeeper.

Lady A. Long live old English hospitality!
Lord P. He has some of his family with him.

Lady P. They can have the britzska, and you must manage something for their Opera-leave it to the housekeeper.

Lady A. Talking of visitors, I have invited a couple to you.

Lady P. To us!

Lady A. Yes-Colonel Rocket and his daughter old friends of mine—my bonbonniere in Brook Street only holds me and my plagues, but, fortunately, having a card of yours in my case, I thought how glad you'd be. I mentioned six as your dinner hour. Don't be anxious—they'll be here in a minute.

Lord P. How rash-he may be of the opposition.

Lady A. An East India Director, with two boroughs. [ Aside.] Rabbit ones.

Lord P. Is the girl presentable ?
Lady A. Met them at Devonshire House-

Lord P. Two boroughs! my dear Alice, you are rash, but you mean well.

Lady P. Of course I do—only think of two boroughs, Pompey. [Aside.] A half-pay colonel, with less interest than a treasury clerk, but a glorious old fellow. I'll bet he'll kiss the Countess in a week-what fun! [Lady Alice and Lord Pompion retire up stage, c.

Enter a SERVANT, L. Ser. Lord Charles Roebuck.

Enter ROEBUCK, followed by LITTLETON COKE, L. Roe. My dearest mother!

Lady P. Ah! Charles, how d'ye do, dear ? [Lifts her eye-glass.] Bless me, how brown you're grown--for hea. ven's sake, take care of Bichon, there. (Shakes his hand over the dog.) Have you brought me the Eau de Cologne ?

Roe. Yes, everything—but, my dear mother-
Lady P. Dear-how old he looks for a son of mine.
Lord P. But undoubtedly improved

[Advances on the L. Roe. My dear father, forgive me !

[Offering both his hands. Lord P. [Regarding him. A Pompion, decidedly.

Lady P. Tell me, Charles, your Italian is Roman-and -ah! I see you wear Bouquet du Roi. I understand that esprit d' Isabella was the court scent at the Tuilleries, just now.

Lord P. Of course your present appearance is the remains of a diplomatic compliment to the Court of Versail les-very judicious

Lady P. I trust, Charles, you have picked up no foreign immoralities—I mean, you go to church sometimes; w have a pew at St. George's-and, apropos, have glacé silks gone out yet, in Paris ?

Roe. Really, dearest mother, I didn't notice.
Lady P. Ah! boys are so thoughtless.

Lord P. You don't make yourself remarkable in dress or equipage, Charles ?

Lady P. I hope you have no penchant for liaisons with public people or unmarried women, dear?

Lord P. Every notoriety, which is not political, is hurtful.

Lady P. I trust you don't swear, Charles—I mean in English; and excuse the anxiety of a mother-you con. tinue to use the almond paste I wrote to you about ?

Lord P. Apropos—you'll find in my room a list of the doubtful ones of our party, so that you may know where to lose your money, at Crockford's-of course, you will not enter any of the lower gaming clubs—and, by the bye be cool to Vernon.

Roe. My dear father--my schoolfellow, Dick Vernon, once saved

my

life. Lord P. Possibly—but he voted against us on the Barbadoes Bill, and he has talked of conscientious principles, and in presence of the Premier-in short--he was omitted in the Premier's dinner yesterday-of course, you speak German

Lady P. Do you bet?
Lady A. Do

you

Polk?
Roe. Blest voice-surely—it is

Lady A. Your cousin Alice-how are you, Charley. [He hesitates.] all right-go on {Roe. crosses to her.] I'm human nature ! [He kisses her.] What's your friend's name? we are acquainted, I know,--but I can't recollect who he is!

Roe. (A side.) Coke I had almost forgetten him—what can he think of my cold reception; how frigidly they will receive him-I am fairly ashamed to-[Brings Coke down on the L. c.] My lord and lady, mother, allow me, Mr. Coke.

Lord P. Coke! of Yorkshire ? [Crosses to Littleton.
Lit. Yes.
Lord P. Ashby?
Lit. The same.

Lord P. [Heartily.) My dear sir, I'm delighted to see you! [Shaking him by both hands.] delighted ! this is an

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