.
the delights of rural life; and, slightly as you may think of my skill, at the year's end I am no inconsiderable sharer in the pin-money of my society.
Blandish. A paltry resource – Gambling is a damned trade, and I have done with it.
Mrs. Blandish. Indeed!
Blandish. Yes; 'twas high time. – The women don't pay; and as for the men, the age grows circumspect in proportion to its poverty. It's odds but one loses a character to establish a debt, and must fight a duel to obtain the payment. I have a thousand better plans, but two principal ones; and I am only at a loss which to chuse.
Mrs. Blandish. Out with them, I beseech you.
Blandish. Whether I shall marry my friend's intended bride, or his sister.
Mrs. Blandish. Marry his intended bride? – What, pig-iron and usury? – Your opinion of her must advance your addresses admirably.
Blandish. My lord's opinion of her will advance them; he can't bear the sight of her, and, in defiance of his uncle, Sir Clement Flint's, eagerness for the match, is running mad after an adventure, which I, who am his confidant, shall keep going till I determine. – There's news for you.
Mrs. Blandish. And his sister, Lady Emily, the alternative! The first match in England, in beauty, wit, and accomplishment.
Blandish. Pooh! A fig for her personal charms; she will bring me connexion that would soon supply fortune; the other would bring fortune enough to make connexion unnecessary.
Mrs. Blandish. And as to the certainty of success with the one or the other —
Blandish. Success! – Are they not women? – But I must away. And first for Lord Gayville, and his fellow student, Clifford.
Mrs. Blandish. Apropos! Look well to Clifford. Lady Emily and he were acquainted at the age of first impressions.
Blandish. I dare say he always meant to be the complete friend of the family; for, besides his design on Lady Emily, his game, I find, has been to work upon Lord Gayville's understanding; he thinks he must finally establish himself in his esteem, by inexorably opposing all his follies. – Poor simpleton! – Now, my touch of opposition goes only to enhance the value of my acquiescence. So adieu for the morning – You to Miss Alscrip, with an unction of flattery, fit for a house-painter's brush; I to Sir Clement, and his family, with a composition as delicate as ether, and to be applied with the point of a feather.
Mrs. Blandish. Hark you, Blandish – a good wish before you go: To make your success complete, may you find but half your own vanity in those you have to work on!
Blandish. Thank you, my dear Letty; this is not the only tap you have hit me to-day, and you are right; for if you and I did not sometimes speak truth to each other, we should forget there was such a quality incident to the human mind.
SCENE II
Lord Gayville's Apartment.
Lord G. My dear Clifford, urge me no more. How can a man of your liberality of sentiment descend to be the advocate of my uncle's family avarice?
Cliff. My lord, you do not live for yourself. You have an ancient name and title to support.
Lord G. Preposterous policy! Whenever the father builds, games, or electioneers, the heir and title roust go to market. Oh, the happy families Sir Clement Flint will enumerate, where this practice has prevailed for centuries; and the estate been improved in every generation, though specifically spent by each individual!
Cliff. But you thought with him a month ago, and wrote with transport of the match – "Whenever I think of Miss Alscrip, visions of equipage and splendour, villas and hotels, the delights of independence and profuseness, dance in my imagination."
Lord G. It is true, I was that dissipated, fashionable wretch.
Cliff. Come, this reserve betrays a consciousness of having acted wrong: You would not hide what would give me pleasure: But I'll not be officious.
Lord G. Hear me without severity, and I'll tell you all. Such a woman, such an assemblage of all that's lovely in the sex! —
Cliff. Well, but – the who, the how, the where?
Lord G. I met her walking, and alone; and, indeed, so humbly circumstanced as to carry a parcel in her own hand.
Cliff. I cannot but smile at this opening of your adventure. – But proceed.
Lord G. Her dress was such as a judicious painter would chuse to characterise modesty. But natural grace and elegance stole upon the observation, and, through the simplicity of a quaker, showed all we could conceive of a goddess. I gazed, and turned idolater.
Cliff. [Smiling.] You may as well finish the description in poetry at once; you are on the very verge of it.
Lord G. She was under the persecution of one of those beings peculiar to this town, who assume the name of gentlemen, upon the sole credentials of a boot, a switch, and round hat – the things that escape from counters and writing desks, to disturb public places, insult foreigners, and put modest women out of countenance. I had no difficulty in the rescue.
Cliff. And, having silenced the dragon, in the true spirit of chivalry, you conducted the damsel to her castle.
Lord G. The utmost I could obtain was leave to put her into a hackney coach, which I followed unperceived, and lodged her in the house of an obscure milliner, in a bye street, whose favour was soon conciliated by a few guineas. I almost lived in the house; and often, when I was not suspected to be there, passed whole hours listening to a voice, that would have captivated my very soul, though it had been her only attraction. At last —
Cliff. What is to follow?
Lord G. By the persuasions of the woman, who laughed at my scruples with an unknown girl, a lodger upon a second floor, I hid myself in the closet of her apartment: and the practised trader assured me, I had nothing to fear from the interruption of the family.
Cliff. Oh, for shame, my lord! whatever may be the end of your adventure, such means were very much below you.
Lord G. I confess it, and have been punished. Upon the discovery of me, fear, indignation, and resolution, agitated the whole frame of the sweet girl by turns. – I should as soon have committed sacrilege, as have offered an affront to her person. – Confused – overpowered – I stammered out a few incoherent words – Interest in her fortune – respect – entreaty of forgiveness – and left her, to detest me.
Cliff. You need go no farther. I meant to rally you, but your proceedings and emotion alarm me for your peace and honour. You are on a double precipice; on one side impelled by folly, on the other —
Lord G. Hold, Clifford, I am not prepared for so much admonition. Your tone is changed since our separation; you seem to drop the companion, and assume the governor.
Cliff. No, my lord, I scorn the sycophant, and assert the friend.
Serv. My lord, Mr. Blandish.
Cliff. [Significantly.] I hope every man will do the same.
Blandish. Mr. Clifford, do not let me drive you away – I want to learn your power to gain and to preserve dear Lord Gayville's esteem.
Cliff. [With a seeming Effort to withdraw his Hand, which Blandish holds.] Sir, you are quite accomplished to be an example. —
Blandish. I have been at your apartment, to look for you – we have been talking of you with Sir Clement – Lady Emily threw in her word. —
Cliff. [Disengaging his Hand.] Oh, sir, you make me too proud. [Aside.] Practised parasite!
Blandish.