Next Door Neighbours Part 11

MR. LUCRE.

I am like the rest of the world.--I was in the number of your flatterers; but at present you have none--for you may already perceive, we are grown sincere.

SIR GEORGE.

But have not you a thousand times desired me, in any distress, to prove you?

MR. LUCRE.

And you do prove me now, do you not?--Heaven bless you. [_Shaking hands with him_] I shall always have a regard for you--but for any thing farther--I scorn professions which I do not mean to keep.

[_Going._

SIR GEORGE.

Nay, but Lucre! consider the anguish in which you leave me!--consider, that to be forsaken by my friends is more affecting than the loss of all my fortune. Though you have nothing else to give me, yet give me your company.

MR. LUCRE.

My dear friend I _cannot_. Reflect that I am under obligations to you--so many indeed that I am ashamed to see you.----I am naturally bashful; and do not be surprised if I should never have the confidence to look you in the face again. [_Exit._

SIR GEORGE.

This is the world, such as I have heard it described, but not such as I could ever believe it to be.--But I forgive--I forget all the world except Lady Caroline--her ingrat.i.tude fastens to my heart and drives me to despair. She, on whom I have squandered so much--she, whom I loved--and whom I still love, spite of her perfidy!

(_Enter_ BLUNTLY.)

Well, Bluntly--behold the friends.h.i.+p of the friends I loved! This morning I was in prosperity and had many--this night I am ruined, and I have not one.

BLUNTLY.

Ruined, sir?

SIR GEORGE.

Totally: and shall be forced to part with every thing I possess to pay the sums I owe.----Of course, I shall part with all my servants--and do you endeavour to find some other place.

BLUNTLY.

But first, sir,--permit me to ask a favour of you?

SIR GEORGE.

A favour of me? I have no favours now to grant.

BLUNTLY.

I beg your pardon, sir--you have one--and I entreat it on my knees.

SIR GEORGE.

What would you ask of me?

BLUNTLY.

To remain along with you still.--I will never quit you; but serve you for nothing, to the last moment of my life.

SIR GEORGE.

I have then one friend left. (_Embracing him._) And never will I forget to acknowledge the obligation.

_Enter_ BLACKMAN.

BLACKMAN.

Pardon me--sir--I beg ten thousand pardons--pray excuse me, (_In the most servile manner_,) for entering before I sent to know if you were at leisure--but your attendants are all fast asleep on the chairs of your antichamber.--I could not wake a soul--and I imagined you yourself were not yet up.

SIR GEORGE.

On the contrary, I have not yet been in bed. And when I do go there, I wish never to rise from it again.

BLACKMAN.

Has any thing unexpected happened?

SIR GEORGE.

Yes.--That I am ruined--inevitably ruined--Behold (_Shewing the cards_) the only wreck of my fortune.

BLACKMAN.

(_Starting._) Lost all your fortune?

SIR GEORGE.

All I am worth--and as much more as I am worth.

[BLACKMAN _draws a chair, sits down with great familiarity, and stares_ SIR GEORGE _rudely in the face_.

BLACKMAN.

Lost all you are worth? He, he, he, he! (_Laughs maliciously._) Pretty news, truly! Why then I suppose I have lost great part of what I am worth? all which you are indebted to me?--However there is a way yet to retrieve you. But--please to desire your servant to leave the room.

SIR GEORGE.

Bluntly, leave us a moment. (_Exit_ BLUNTLY.) Well, Mr. Blackman, what is this grand secret?

BLACKMAN.

Why, in the state to which you have reduced yourself, there is certainly no one hope for you, but in that portion, that half of your fortune, which the will of your father keeps you out of.

SIR GEORGE.

But how am I to obtain it? The lawyer in whose hands it is placed, will not give it up, without being insured from any future demand by some certain proofs.

BLACKMAN.

And suppose I should search, and find proofs? Suppose I have them already by me?--But upon this occasion, you must not only rely implicitly on what I say, but it is necessary you should say the same yourself.

SIR GEORGE.

If you advance no falsehood, I cannot have any objection.

BLACKMAN.

Falsehood!--falsehood!--I apprehend, Sir George, you do not consider, that there is a particular construction put upon words and phrases in the practice of the law, which the rest of the world, out of that study, are not clearly acquainted with. For instance, _falsehood_ with _us_, is not _exactly_ what it is with other people.

SIR GEORGE.

How! Is truth, immutable truth, to be corrupted and confounded by men of the law?

BLACKMAN.

I was not speaking of truth--that, we have nothing to do with.

SIR GEORGE.

I, must not say so, however, sir.--And in this crisis of my sufferings, it is the only comfort, the only consolatory reflection left me, that truth and I, will never separate.