sir. Old Wild. Now, sir, who is this lady? Young Wild. It is impossible for me to divine, Old Wild. You know nothing of her? Miss God. I presume your son can have no objection to the lady's appearance. Young Wild. Not in the least, madam. Old Wild. No, madam, I don't think there is the least room for suspecting him: he can't be so abandoned as to-But she is here. Upon my word, a sightly woman! Enter KITTY, as MISS SYBTнorp. Kit. Where is he?-Oh, let me throw my Young Wild. Am not I a happy, fortunate-arms-my life, myBut they come. Enter OLD WILDING and MISS GODFREY. Old Wild. If, madam, he has not the highest sense of the great honour you do him, I shall cease to regard him.-There, sir, make your own acknowledgements to that lady. Young Wild. Sir! Old Wild. This is more than you merit; but let your future behaviour testify your gratitude. Young Wild. Papillion! madam! sir! Old Wild. What, is the puppy petrified! Why don't you go up to the lady? Young Wild. Up to the lady!-That lady? Old Wild. That lady!-To be sure. What other lady?-To Miss Godfrey. Young Wild. That lady Miss Godfrey? Old Wild. What is all this?-Hark ye, sir; I, see what you are at: but no trifling; I'll be no more the dupe of your double detestable-Recollect my last resolution: This instant your hand to the contract, or tremble at the consequence. Young Wild. Sir, that, I hope, is—might not -to be sure Young Wild. Heyday! Kit. And could you leave me? and for so long a space? Think how the tedious time has lagged along. Young Wild. Madam! Kit. But we are met at last, and now will part no more! Young Wild. The deuce we won't! Kit. What! not one kind look! no tender word to hail our second meeting! Young Wild. What the devil is all this? Kit. Are all your oaths, your protestations, come to this? Have I deserved such treatment? Quitted my father's house, left all my friends, and wandered here alone in search of thee, thou first, last, only object of my love? Old Wild. To what can all this tend? Hark ye, sir, unriddle this mystery. Young Wild. Davus, non Edipus sum. It is beyond me, I confess. Some lunatic escaped from her keeper, I suppose. Kit. Am I disowned then, contemned, slight Ied? Old Wild. Hold; let me inquire into this matter a little. Pray, madam-You seem to be pretty familiar here.-Do you know this gentleman! Kit. Too well. Old Wild. His name? Kit. Wilding. Old Wild. So far she is right. Now yours, if you please. Old Wild. As I suspected. So, then, the whole story is true, and the monster is married at last! Young Wild. Me, sir! By all that's Old Wild. Eternal dumbness seize thee, measureless liar? Young Wild. If not me, hear this gentleman -Marquis Pap. Not I; I'll be drawn into none of your scrapes: it is a pit of your own digging; and so get out as well as you can. Mean time I'll shift for myself. [Exit PAP. Old Wild. What evasion now, monster? Miss God. Deceiver! Old Wild. Liar! I Enter SIR JAMES ELLIOT, and MISS GRANT Omnes. Ha, ha, ha! HAM. Miss Gran. Finely performed! Old Wild. You have kept your promise; and thank you, madam. Miss Gran. My medicine was somewhat rough, sir; but in desperate cases, you know-- Old Wild. If his cure is completed, he will gratefully acknowledge the cause; if not, the punishment comes far short of his crimes. It is needless to pay you any compliments, sir James; with that lady you can't fail to be happy. I shan't venture to hint a scheme I have greatly at heart, till we have undeniable proofs of the success of our operations. To the ladies, indeed, no character is so dangerous as that of a liar : They in the fairest fames can fix a flaw, And vanquish females, whom they never saw. [Exeunt omnes. FOOTE, representing a Lecturer upon Oratory—his Pupils-and the Spectators, Enter WILL TIREHACK and HARRY SCAMPER, booted, with whips in their hands, into a sidebox. Scam. PSHA! zounds! prithee, Will, let us go; what signifies our staying here! Tire. Nay, but tarry a little: besides, you know we promised to give Poll Bayless and Bett Skinner the meeting. Scam. No matter; we shall be sure to find them at three, at the Shakespeare. Tire. But as we are here, Harry, let us know a little what 'tis about? Scam. About! Why lectures, you fool! Have not you read the bills? and we have plenty of them at Oxford, you know. Tire. Well, but for all that, there may be fun. Scam. Why, then, stay and enjoy it yourself; and I'll step to the Bull and Gate, and call upon Jerry Lack-Latin and my horse. We shall see you at three? [Rising. Tire. Nay, but, prithee, stay. Scam. Rot me, if I do! [Going out of the box. VOL. III. Tire. Halloo, Harry! Harry- [Returning. Tire. Here's Poll Bayless just come into the gallery. Scam. No Tire. She is, by— Scam. [Looking.] Yes, faith! it is she, sure enough--How goes it, Poll? Tire. Well, now, we shall have you, I hope? Scam. Ay, if I thought we should get any fun. Tire. I'll make an inquiry. Halloo! snuffers, snuffers! Candle-snuffer. Your pleasure, sir? Tire. What is all this business about here? Scam. Well, but you could if you would; let us into the secret! Snuf. Not I, upon my honour! Tire. Your honour, you son of a whore! D'ye hear? bid your master come hither; we want to ask him a question. Snuf. I will. [Exit. Tire. Scamper, will you ask him, or shall I ? 2 T Scam. Let me alone to him Enter FOOTE. Tire. O here he is Foote. Your commands with me, gentlemen? Scam. Why, you must know, Will and I, here, are upon a scheme from Oxford; and because cash begins to run low——How much have you, Will? Tire. Three and twenty shillings, besides the crown I paid at the door. Scam. And I eighteen. Now, as this will last us but to-night, we are willing to husband our time; let us see-Will, how are we engaged? Tire. Why, at three, with Bett and Poll there, at the Shakespeare: after that to the Coronation; for, you know, we have scen it but nine times Scam. And then back to the Shakespeare again; where we sup, and take horse at the door. Tire. So, there's no time to be lost, you see; we desire, therefore, to know what sort of a thing this affair, here, of yours is? What, is it damned funny and comical? Foote. Have you not seen the bills? Scam. What, about the lectures? ay, but that's all slang, I suppose; no, no. No tricks upon travellers; no, we know better-What, are there any more of you; or do you do it all yourself? Foote. If I was in want of comedians, you, gentlemen, are kind enough to lead me a lift; but, upon my word, my intentions, as the bill will inform you, are serious Tire. Are they? then I'll have my money again. What, do you think we come to London to learn any thing? Come, Will. [Going. Foote. Hold, gentlemen'; I will detain you, if possible. What is it you expect? Scum. To be jolly, and laugh, to be sure- Tire. At what-damme, I don't know—at you, and your frolics and fancies Foote. If that is all you desire, why, perhaps, we shan't disappoint you Scam. Shan't you why, that is an honest fellow-come, begin Foote. But you'll be so kind as not to interrupt me? Scam. Never fear. Foote. Ladies and gentlemen [SUDS, from the opposite box, calls to FOOTE, and stops him short.] Suds. Stop a minute! may I be permitted to speak? Foote. Doubtless, sir. Suds. Why, the affair is this. My wife Alice -for, you must know, my name is Ephraim Suds, I am a soap-boiler in the city-took it into her head, and nothing would serve her turn but that I must be a common councilman this year; for, says Alice, says she, it is the onliest way to rise in the world. Foote. A just observation! you succeeded? Suds. Oh! there was no danger of that-yes, yes, I got it all hollow; but now to come to the inarrow of the business. Well, Alice, says I, now I am chosen, what's next to be done? Why now, says Alice says she, thee must learn to make speeches; why dost not see what purferincnt neighbour Grogram has got; why, mau, 'tis all brought about by his speechifying. I tell thee what, Ephraim, if thou canst but once learn to lay down the law, there's no knowing to what thee mayest rise— Foote. Your lady had reason. Suds. Why, I thought so too; and, as good luck would have it, who should come into the city, in the very nick of time, but master professor along with his lectures-Adod, away in a hurry Alice and I danced to Pewterer's Hall. Foote. You improved, I hope? Suds. O lud! it is unknown what knowledge we got! We can read-Oh! we never stop to spell a word, now-And then he told us such things about verbs, and nouns, and adverbs, that never entered our heads before, and emphasis, and accent; Heaven bless us! I did not think there had been such things in the world. Foote. And have you speechified yet? Suds. Soft; soft and fair! we must walk before we can run--I think I have laid a pretty foundation. The mansion-house was not built in a day, Master Foote. But to go on with my tale; my dame one day looking over the papers, came running to me; now, Ephraim, says she, thy business is done; rare news, lad; here is a man, at the other end of the town, that will make thee a speecher at once-and out she pulled your proposals. Ah, Alice, says I, thee be'st but a fool; why, I know that man, he is all upon his fun; he lecture! why, 'tis all but a bam-well, 'tis but seeing, says she; so, wolens nolens, she would have me come hither: now, if so be you be serious, I shall think my money wisely bestowed; but if it be only your comical works, I can tell you, you shall see me no more. Foote. Sir, I should be extremely sorry to lose you, if I knew but what would content you. Suds, Why, I want to be made an orator on; and to speak speeches, as I tell you, at our meetings, about politics, and peace, and addresses, and the new bridge, and all them kind of things. Foote. Why, with your happy talents, I should think much might be done. Suds. I am proud to hear you say so; indeed I am. I did speechify once at a vestry, concerning new-lettering the church-buckets, and came off cutely enough; and, to say the truth, that was the thing that provoked me to go to Pewterer's Hall. [Sits down again. Foote. Well, sir, I flatter myself, that, in proportion to the difference of abilities in your two instructors, you will here make a tolerable progress. But now, sir, with your favour, we will proceed to explain the nature of our design; and, I hope, in the process, you, gentlemen, will find entertainment, and you, sir, inforination. MR FOOTE then proceeds in his lecture. My plan, gentlemen, is to be considered as a superstructure on that admirable foundation laid by the modern professor of English, both our labours tending to the same general end, the perfectioning of our countrymen in a most essential article, the right use of their native language.The English orators are to be divided into four distinct classes, the pulpit, the senate, the bar, and the stage. With the first of these branches, the pulpit, I shan't interfere; and, indeed, so few people, now, of consequence and consideration, frequent the churches, that the art is scarce worth cultivation. The bar Scam. Pshaw! there's enough of this dull prosing; come, give us a little of something that's funny; you talked about pupils. Could not we see them? Foote. Rather too precipitate, sir; but, however, in some measure to satisfy you, and demonstrate the success of our scheme, give me leave to introduce to you a most extraordinary instance, in the person of a young Highlander. It is not altogether a year since this astonishing subject spoke nothing but Erse. Encouraged by the prodigies of my brother professor's skill, whose fame, like the Chevalier Taylor's, pierces the remotest regions, his relations were tempted to send this young genius to Edinburgh; where he went through a regular course of the professor's lectures, to finish his studies; he has been about six weeks under my care, and, considering the time, I think you will be amazed at his progress. Donald ! wha, by the bare power of his words, leads men, women, and bairns, as he listsScam. And who? Don. [Tartly.]-Men, women, and bairns. Scam. Bairns! who are they? Foote. Oh, children-his meaning is obvious enough. Don. Ay, ay; men, women, and bairns, whereever he lists. And first for the antiquity of the art-Ken ye, my lads, wha was the first orator? Mayhap, ye think it was Tully the Latinist? Ye are wide o' the mark or Demosthenes the Greek? In gude troth, ye're as far aff as before: wha was it, then? It was e'en that arch chiel, the deevil himsel Scam. [Hastily.]-The devil it was! How do you prove that? Don. Guds zounds, mun, ye brak the thrid of my harang; an ye'll but hand your tongue, I'se prove it as plain as a pike-staff. Tire. Be quiet, Will, and let him go on. Don. I say it was that arch chiel, the deevil himsel. Ye ken weel, my lads, how Adanı and Eve were planted in Eden, wi' plenty o' bannocks and kail, and aw that they wished, but were prohibited the eating of pepius Scam. Apples Don. Weel, weel, and are na pepins and apples aw the same thing? Foote. Nay, pray, gentlemen, hear him out.Go on with your pepins. Don. Prohibited the eating of pepins; upon which, what does me the orator Satan, but he whispers a saft speech in her lug; egod, our grannum fell to in an instant, and eat a pepin without staying to pare it--[Addresses himself to the Oronians.]-Ken ye, lads, wha was the first orator, now? Tire. [To SCAM.]-What say you to that? Scam. By my soul, the fellow's rightDon. Ay, but ye wunna ha' patience――ye wunna ha' patience, lads Tire. Hold your jaw, and go on— Don. Now, we come to the definition of an orator and it is from the Latin words, oro, orare, to intreat, or perswad; and how? by the means o' elocution or argument, which argument consists o' letters, which letters joined, mak syllables, which syllables compounded, mak words, which words combined, mak sentences or periods, or which, aw together, mak an orator; so the first gift of an orator is words Scam. Here, Donald, you are out. Scam. Words the first gifts of an orator! No, Donaid, no, at school I learned better than that: do'st not remember, Will, what is the first perfection of an orator? action; the second, ac tion; the third, action. Tire. Right, right, Harry, as right as my nail; there, Donald, I think, he has given you a dose → |