L. Kitty. Should you? Kind foul !-I fhall try the experiment, you hypocritical flut! Hetty. But when our fuperiors are fo confiderate as to think of their menials in their laft moments, to be fure it gives poor fervants greater fpirits to cry for their lofs. L. Kitty. Doubtlefs. You may go. [Exit Hetty. Well, Mrs. Clack, you find me vaftly altered fince the death of Sir John. Clack. To be fure, your ladyfhip is fomething changed fince the day I had the honour to try on your ladyship's cloaths for your ladyship's wedding. L. Kitty. True. You, I think, Mrs. Clack, decked me out like another Iphigenia, to be facrificed at the temple of Hymen. Don't you recollect the tremors, the terrors, that invaded each nerve, on that folemn, that awful occafion? You must remember, with what reluctance I was dragged by Sir John to the altar. Clack. To be fure, your ladyship shewed a becoming coynefs upon the occafion. I remember, about the hour of bedding, you hid yourfelf behind the bottle-rack in the beer cellar, to avoid Sir John; if your ladyfhip had not happened to have coughed, we fhould not have found you. L. Kitty. The conflict was great: But, dear Mrs. Clack, what could I do? Troy stood a fiege for only ten years; now fixteen were fully accomplished before I was compelled to furrender. Clack. That was standing out a vaft while, to be fure. I recollects, what added to your lady. fhip's grief was, that the nuptials fhould happen to fall out in the middle of Lent. L. Kitty, Dear Clack, you renew my confu fron: Little did I think ever to fully that facred feafon by the celebration of fuch a feftivity. Clack. But there could not be fo much harm in the matter neither; as marriages, your ladyfhip knows, are all fettled above. L. Kitty. By that argument I was induced to furrender; with, however, an exprefs ftipulation, that all connubial intercourse should be fufpended Wednesdays and Fridays. Clack. That must have been a vast denial to both parties, no doubt. L. Kitty. How, Mrs. Clack! you wou'dn't infinuate that I was prompted to the connection by any Clack. Far from it, my lady! I only meant, that it must give your ladyship pain to refuse Sir John any favour; for, to be fure, never was any Jady half fo happy in a partner as you. L. Kitty. How irreparable must then be my lofs! Yes, Clack, he poffeffed my whole heart, and poffeffes it ftill: My waking thoughts are all devoted to him; in fleep his loved image is ever before me-starting from my couch, "I cry aloud; he hears not what I say: Clack. Vaft mournful, indeed! But I fhould think your ladyship might find out a cure. L. Kitty. Which way? Clack. Fill your empty arms with fomething fubftantial, and I warrant 'twill frighten the phantom. L. Kitty. Clack, I don't comprehend Clack. I only recommends to your ladyship the profcription I made ufe on myfelf: There was my first husband, fweet Mr. Snip, though a ftaymaker, ftaymaker, as portly a perfon-I really believes, I fhould have followed the dear foul to his grave, hadn't our foreman, Tom Clack, ftepped in to confole me; indeed, the match was very convenient, as he had done all my husband's bufinefs during the time of his fickness. L. Kitty. I am aftonished, woman, at your prefumption. Do you recollect to whom you are addreffing this language? Clack. I beg pardon! But I thought in these matters your ladyfhip was like the reft of our fex; and though Sir John L. Kitty. Peace! nor let your unhallowed lips profane the dear name! even now, his facred fhade feems to upbraid me: See, there! Clack. There? where? I fees nothing, I'm fure. L. Kitty. How awful, how tremendous, he looks! his front furrowed, for the first time, with a frown! Clack. Lord blefs me! I wish I was well out of the house! L. Kitty. But, be pacified, dear lord of my life; no fecond to thee fhall fucceed : } "Firft let the opening earth a paffage rend, "And let me thro' the dark abyfs defcend, "Before I break the plighted faith I gave! "Thou hadst my vows, and shalt for ever have; "For whom I lov'd on earth, I'll worship in the grave!" Clack. Never ftir, if the ben't talking of poetry! her brain's turned, to be fure. L. Kitty. He beckons! lead on, my loved lord thy fummons. I with rapture obey. His arms encircle me round; and now together we plunge into the gulph! the raging billows furround us now they rife over our heads! now We we fink, we fink, in filence together and, oh -[falling.] Curfe the chair! how came I to mifs it ? Clack. Mercy upon us! help, for Heaven's fake, help! What, is there nobody left in the houfe? Enter Hetty. Lord, Mrs. Hetty, I am glad you are come! My poor lady! fhe is quite gone, I am afraid. Hetty. On the ground! in one of her fits, I fuppofe. No doubt, it is dreadful to you; but we are used to 'en every day. Step and call some more of the-[Exit Clack.] How came your ladyship to fall on the ground? L. Kitty. Where the deuce have you been? that old fool was fo frighted, fhe never thought of bringing the chair. She has pinched me as black as a coal. Hitty. Would your ladyfhip please to recover now, or fhall I fetch in the hartfhorn ? L. Kitty. This woman is an ideot; fo there is no occafion at present. Hetty. Come back, Mrs. Clack; my lady begins to revive, Re-enter Mrs. Clack. and upon these occafions fhe wishes to have but few people by. T'other fide, Mrs. Clack. So, fo, fo! L. Kitty. Am I recalled to hated life again? Hetty. Your ladyfhip has had a violent ftruggle. Nothing more than ufual, I hope, has happened. Clack. I believes, indeed, it was partly my fault: In order to comfort my lady, I was rash enough to recommend another huf L. Kitty. Recal not the detefted idea, unless you wish to fee me fink again at your feet! Clack. I beg your ladyfhip's pardon! I can't think what in the world could poffefs me! Indeed, Lord Harry Huntwidow, hearing that I was going over, did defire me to deliver a let ter. L. Kitty. To me? prefumptuous man! how dared he encourage a hope-Had not he heard that Don Juan de Muftachio, a Spanish grandee of the very first class, had laid his Golden Fleece at my feet? Hetty. True enough. L. Kitty. Didn't the Palfgrave of Saltsplash, a fovereign Prince on the banks of the Rhine, offer to fhare his power with me? and, after all, to fubmit to a fubject!-This Lord Harry, Hetty, is an abfolute beggar: Red-faced, rabbet-backed, with a pair of legs like a couple of drumsticks. Hetty. Marry come up, my fcurvy companion! Clack. As foon as ever I return, I shall deliver his lordship his letter. L. Kitty. Hold, Clack; let it lie on the table. Clack. Will your ladyship deign then to give it a reading? L. Kitty. By no means, Mrs. Clack. Put it amongst the other papers, Hetty, which in a few days are to expire in the flames. Hetty. It fhall, madam. L. Kitty. A monthly facrifice I offer up, Mrs. Clack, before the dear image of him I adore. Hetty. We fhall have a fine blaze; for this month has been very prolific.-My lady's illness Lad |
