Wild Oats Part 11

_Lamp._ Yes, sir; and sir, I have just now engaged a new actor, Mr.

Rover. Such an actor!

_Rover._ Eh! What! you've engaged that--what's his name, Rover? If such is your best actor, you shan't have my permission. My dear madam, the worst fellow in the world. Get along out of town, or I'll have all of you, man, woman, child, stick, rag, and fiddlestick, clapt into the whirligig.

_Lady Am._ Good man, abide not here.

_Rover._ Eh! What, my friend? Now, indeed, if this new actor you brag of, this crack of your company, was any thing like a gentleman--

_Lamp._ [_Stares._] It isn't!

_Rover._ It is. My good friend, if I was really the unfortunate poor strolling dog you thought me, I should tread your four boards, and crow the c.o.c.k of your barn-door fowl; but as fate has ordained that I'm a gentleman, and son to Sir,--Sir,--what the devil's my father's name? [_Aside._] you must be content to murder Shakspeare without making me an accomplice.

_Lamp._ But, my most gentle sir, I, and my treasurer, Trap, have trumpeted your fame ten miles round the country:--the bills are posted, the stage built, the candles booked, fiddles engaged; all on the tip-top of expectation. We should have to-morrow night an overflow, ay, thirty pounds. Dear, worthy sir, you wou'dn't go to ruin a whole community and their families that now depend only on the exertion of your brilliant talents.

_Rover._ Eh! I never was uniform but in one maxim, that is, though I do little good, to hurt n.o.body but myself.

_Lady Am._ Since thou hast promised, much as I prize my adherence to those customs in which I was brought up, thou shalt not sully thy honour by a breach of thy word. Play, if it can bring good to these people.

_Rover._ Shall I?

_Lady Am._ This falleth out well; for I have bidden all the gentry round unto my house warming, and these pleasantries may afford them a cheerful and innocent entertainment.

_Rover._ True, my lady; your guests ar'n't quakers though you are, and when we ask people to our house, we study to please them, not ourselves. But if we do furbish a play or two, the muses sha'n't honour that churlish fellow's barn. No; the G.o.d, that illumines the soul of genius, should never visit the iron door of inhumanity. No Gammon's barn for me!--

_Lady Am._ Barn! no; that gallery shall be thy theatre; and, in spite of the grave doctrines of Ephraim Smooth, my friends and I will behold and rejoice in thy pranks, my pleasant cousin.

_Rover._ My kind, my charming lady! Hey, brighten up, bully Lamp, carpenters, tailor, manager, distribute your box tickets for my lady's gallery.--"Come, gentle coz,"

"The actors are at hand, and by their show You shall know all That you are like to know." [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_The Inn._

_Enter_ HARRY, _and_ MIDGE.

_Harry._ Though I went back to Portsmouth academy with a contrite heart, to continue my studies, yet, from my father's angry letter, I dread a woeful storm at our first meeting. I fancy the people at this inn don't recollect me; it reminds me of my pleasant friend, poor Jack Rover, I wonder where he is now.

_Midge._ And brings to my memory a certain stray vaguing acquaintance of mine, poor d.i.c.k Buskin.

_Harry._ Ha, ha, ha! Then I desire, sir, you'll turn d.i.c.k Buskin again out of your memory.

_Midge._ Can't, sir. The dear, good-natur'd, wicked son of a----beg your honour's pardon.

_Harry._ Oh, but Midge, you must, as soon as I'm dressed, step out and enquire whose house is this my father's at; I did not think he had any acquaintance in this part of the country. Sound what humour he's in, and how the land lies, before I venture in his presence. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ SIR GEORGE THUNDER, _agitated, and_ LANDLORD.

_Sir Geo._ I can hear nothing of these deserters; yet, by my first intelligence, they'll not venture up to London. They must still be lurking about the country. Landlord, have any suspicious persons ever put in at your house?

_Land._ Yes, sir; now and then.

_Sir Geo._ Zounds! what do you do with them?

_Land._ Why, sir, when a man calls for liquor that I think has no money, I make him pay beforehand.

_Sir Geo._ d.a.m.n your liquor, you self-interested porpoise! Chatter your own private concerns, when the public good, or fear of general calamity, should be the only compa.s.s! These fellows, that I'm in pursuit of, have run from their s.h.i.+ps; if our navy's unmann'd, what becomes of you and your house, you dunghill cormorant?

_Land._ This is a very abusive sort of a gentleman; but he has a full pocket, or he wouldn't be so saucy. [_Aside._] [_Exit._

_Sir Geo._ This rascal, I believe, doesn't know I'm Sir George Thunder. Winds, still variable, blow my affairs right athwart each other.--To know what's become of my runagate son Harry,--and there my rich lady niece, pressing and squeezing up the n.o.ble plumage of our ill.u.s.trious family in her little mean quaker bonnet. But I must up to town after--'Sblood, when I catch my son Harry!--Oh, here's John Dory.

_Enter_ JOHN DORY.

Have you taken the places in the London coach for me?

_John._ Hahoy! your honour, is that yourself?

_Sir Geo._ No, I'm beside myself--heard any thing of my son?--

_John._ What's o'clock?

_Sir Geo._ What do you talk of clocks or timepieces--All gla.s.ses, reck'ning, and log-line, are run mad with me.

_John._ If it's two, your son is at this moment walking with Lady Amaranth in her garden.

_Sir Geo._ With Lady Amaranth!

_John._ If half after, they're cast anchor to rest themselves amongst the posies; if three, they're got up again; if four, they're picking a bit of cramm'd fowl; and, if half after, they're picking their teeth, and cracking walnuts over a bottle of Calcavella.

_Sir Geo._ My son! my dear friend, where did you find him?

_John._ Why, I found him where he was, and I left him where he is.

_Sir Geo._ What, and he came to Lady Amaranth's?

_John._ No; but I brought him there from this house, in her ladys.h.i.+p's chariot. I won't tell him Master Harry went amongst the players, or he'd never forgive him. [_Aside._] Oh! such a merry, civil, crazy, crack-brain! the very picture of your honour.

_Sir Geo._ Ha, ha, ha! What, he's in high spirits? ha, ha, ha! the dog! [_Joyfully._] But I hope he's had discretion enough to throw a little gravity over his mad humour, before his prudent cousin.

_John._ He threw himself on his knees before her, and that did quite as well.

_Sir Geo._ Ha, ha, ha! made love to her already! Oh, the impudent, the cunning villain! What, and may be he--[_With great glee._]

_John._ Indeed he did give her a smack.