Indian, I have so long been expecting; you know I would deeply affect his spirit, which was haughty, whom I mean? Stuke. Yes, sir; Mr Belcour, the young gentleman who inherited old Belcour's great estates in Jamaica. Stock. Hush, not so loud; come a little nearer this way. This Belcour is now in London; part of his baggage is already arrived; and I expect him every minute. Is it to be wondered at, if his coming throws me into some agitation, when I tell you, Stukely, he is my son ! Stuke. Your son! vehement, and unforgiving: and lastly, in regard to the interest of her infant, whom he had warmly adopted, and for whom, in case of a discovery, every thing was to be dreaded from his resentment. And, indeed, though the alteration in my condition might have justified me in discovering myself, yet I always thought my son safer in trusting to the caprice, than to the justice, of his grandfather. My judgment has not suffered by the event; old Belcour is dead, and has bequeathed his whole estate to him we are speaking of. Stuke. Now, then, you are no longer bound to secrecy. Stock. True: but before I publicly reveal my Stock. Yes, sir, my only son. Early in life I accompanied his grandfather to Jamaica, as his clerk; he had an only daughter, somewhat older than myself, the mother of this gentleman: it was my chance (call it good or ill) to engage herself, I could wish to make some experiment of affections; and, as the inferiority of my condition my son's disposition. This can only be done by made it hopeless to expect her father's consent, letting his spirit take its course without restraint; her fondness provided an expedient, and we were by these means, I think I shall discover much privately married: the issue of that concealed more of his real character, under the title of his engagement is, as I have told you, this Belcour. merchant, than I should under that of his father. Stuke. That event, surely, discovered your A Sailor enters, ushering in several black servants, carrying portmanteaus, trunks, &c. Sai. Save your honour-is your name Stockwell, pray? connexion? Stock. You shall hear. Not many days after our marriage, old Belcour set out for England; and, during his abode here, my wife was, with great secrecy, delivered of this son. Fruitful in expedients to disguise her situation, without parting from her infant, she contrived to have it laid and received at her door as a foundling. After some time, her father returned, having left me here; in one of those favourable moments, that decide the fortunes of prosperous men, this child was introduced: from that instant, he treated him as his own, gave him his name, and brought him up in his family. Stuke. And did you never reveal this secret, either to old Belcour, or your son. Stock. Never. Stuke. Therein you surprise me; a merchant of your eminence, and a member of the British parliament, might surely aspire, without offence, to the daughter of a planter. In this case, too, natural affection would prompt to a discovery. Stock. Your remark is obvious; nor could I have persisted in this painful silence, but in obedience to the dying injunctions of a beloved wife. The letter, you found me reading, conveyed those injunctions to me; it was dictated in her last illness, and almost in the article of death (you'll spare me the recital of it); she there conjures me, in terms as solemn as they are affecting, never to reveal the secret of our marriage, or withdraw my son, while her father survived. Stuke. But on what motives did your unhappy lady found these injunctions? Stock. Principally, I believe, from apprehension on my account, lest old Belcour, on whom, at her decease, I wholly depended, should withdraw his protection: in part, from consideration of his repose, as well knowing the discovery Stock. It is. Sai. Part of my master Belcour's baggage, an't please you : there's another cargo not far a-stern of us, and the cock-swain has got charge of the dumb creatures. Stock. Prithee, friend, what dumb creatures do you speak of? has Mr Belcour brought over a collection of wild beasts? Sai. No, lord love him! no, not he let me see; there's two green monkies, a pair of grey parrots, a Jamaica sow and pigs, and a Mangrove dog; that's all. Stock. Is that all? Sai. Yes, your honour; yes, that's all; bless his heart, a'might have brought over the whole island if he would; a didn't leave a dry eye in it. Stock. Indeed! Stukely, shew them where to bestow their baggage. Follow that gentleman. Sai. Come, bear a hand, my lads; bear a hand. [Exit with STUKELY and servants. Stock. If the principal tallies with his purveyors, he must be a singular spectacle in this place: he has a friend, however, in this sea-faring fellow: 'tis no bad prognostic of a man's heart, when his shipmates give him a good word. [Exit, SCENE II.-Changes to a drawing-room. A woman servant enters to him. House. Why, what a fuss does our good master put himself in about this West Indian! See what a bill of fare I've been forced to draw out: seven and nine, I'll assure you, and only a family dinner, as he calls it: why, if my lord mayor was expected, there couldn't be a greater to do about him. Ser. I wish to my heart you had but seen the loads of trunks, boxes, and portmanteaus he has sent hither. An ambassador's baggage, with all the smuggled goods of his family, does not exceed it. House. A fine pickle he'll put the house into! had he been master's own son, and a Christian Englishman, there couldn't be more rout than there is about this Creolian, as they call them. Ser. No matter for that; he's very rich, and that's sufficient. They say he has rum and sugar enough belonging to him, to make all the water in the Thames into punch. But I see my master's coming. [Exeunt. STOCKWELL enters, followed by a Servant. Stock. Where is Mr Belcour? Who brought this note from him? Ser. A waiter from the London tavern, sir; he says the young gentleman is just dressed, and will be with you directly. | BELCOUR enters. Stock. Mr Belcour, I'm rejoiced to see you; you're welcome to England. Bel. I thank you heartily, good Mr Stockwell : you and I have long conversed at a distance; now we are met; and the pleasure this meeting gives me, amply compensates for the perils I have run through in accomplishing it. Stock. What perils, Mr Belcour? I could not have thought you would have made a bad passage at this time o' year. Bel. Nor did we courier-like, we came posting to your shores, upon the pinions of the swiftest gales that ever blew; 'tis upon English ground all my difficulties have arisen; 'tis the passage from the river-side I complain of. Stock. Ay, indeed! What obstructions can you have met between this and the river-side? Bel. Innumerable! Your town's as full of defiles as the island of Corsica; and, I believe, they are as obstinately defended: so much hurry, bustle, and confusion on our quays; so many sugar-casks, porter-butts, and common-councilmen in your streets, that, unless a man marched Ser. I shall, sir. I'll have a peep at him first, with artillery in his front, 'tis more than the lahowever; I've a great mind to see this outland-bour of a Hercules can effect, to make any toleish spark. The sailor fellow says he'll make rare doings amongst us. Stock. Shew him in when he arrives. | rable way through your town. [Aside. Stock. I am sorry you have been so incommoded. Stock. You need not wait-leave me.[Erit Servant.] Let me see[Reads. 'SIR, Bel. Why, faith, 'twas all my own fault. Accustomed to a land of slaves, and out of patience with the whole tribe of custom-house extortion 'I write to you under the hands of the hair-ers, boatmen, tide-waiters, and water-bailiffs, 'dresser. As soon as I have made myself decent, and slipped on some fresh clothes, I will have ⚫ the honour of paying you my devoirs. 'Yours, BELCOUR. He writes at his ease; for he's unconscious to whom his letter is addressed; but what a palpitation does it throw my heart into! a father's heart! 'Tis an affecting interview; when my eyes meet a son, whom yet they never saw, where shall I find constancy to support it? Should he resemble his mother, I am overthrown. All the letters I have had from him (for I industriously drew him into a correspondence with me), bespeak him of quick and ready understanding.— All the reports I ever received, give me favourable impressions of his character; wild, perhaps, as the manner of his country is; but, I trust, not frantic or unprincipled. Enter Servant. Ser. Sir, the foreign gentleman is come. Enter another Servant. Ser. Mr Belcour. that beset me on all sides, worse than a swarm of musquetoes, I proceeded a little too roughly to brush them away with my rattan: the sturdy rogues took this in dudgeon, and beginning to rebel, the mob chose different sides, and a furious scuffle ensued; in the course of which, my person and apparel suffered so much, that I was obliged to step into the first tavern to refit, before I could make my approaches in any decent trim. Stock. All without is as I wish; dear Nature, add the rest, and I am happy! [Aside.] Well, Mr Belcour, 'tis a rough sample you have had of my countrymen's spirit; but, I trust, you'll not think the worse of them for it. Bel. Not at all, not at all; I like them the better. Was I only a visitor, I might, perhaps, wish them a little more tractable; but, as a fellow subject, and a sharer in their freedom, I applaud their spirit, though I feel the effects of it in every bone of my skin. Stock. That's well; I like that well. How gladly I could fall upon his neck, and own myself his father! [Aside. Bel. Well, Mr Stockwell, for the first time in my life, here am I in England; at the fountain head of pleasure, in the land of beauty, of arts, and elegancies. My happy stars have given me a good estate, and the conspiring winds have | certain young fellow of two and twenty in the blown me hither to spend it. Stock. To use it, not to waste it, I should hope; to treat it, Mr Belcour, not as a vassal, over whom you have a wanton and despotic power; but as a subject, which you are bound to govern with a temperate and restrained authority. Bel. True, sir; most truly said! Mine's a commission, not a right: I am the offspring of distress, and every child of sorrow is my brother. While I have hands to hold, therefore, I will hold them open to mankind: but, sir, my passions are my masters; they take me where they will; and oftentimes they leave to reason and to virtue nothing but my wishes and my sighs. Stock. Come, come; the man, who can accuse, corrects himself. Bel. Ah! that's an office I am weary of wish a friend would take it up: I would to Heaven you had leisure for the employ ! but did you drive a trade to the four corners of the world, you would not find the task so toilsome as to keep me free from faults. : case; who, by the happy recommendation of a good person, and the brilliant appointments of an ensigncy, will, if I am not mistaken, cozen you out of a fortune of twice twenty thousand pounds, as soon as ever you are of age to bestow it upon him. Char. A nephew of your ladyship's can never want any other recommendation with me; and, if my partiality for Charles Dudley is acquitted by the rest of the world, I hope lady Rusport will not condemn me for it. Lady Rus. I condemn you! I thank Heaven, Miss Rusport, I am no ways responsible for your conduct; nor is it any concern of mine how you dispose of yourself: you are not my daughter; and, when I married your father, poor sir Stephen Rusport, I found you a forward, spoiled Iniss of fourteen, far above being instructed by Stock. Well, I am not discouraged this candour tells me, I should not have the fault of selfconceit to combat; that, at least, is not among the number. Bel. No; if I knew that man on earth, who thought more humbly of me than I do of myself, I would take up his opinion, and forego my own. Stock. And, was I to choose a pupil, it should be one of your complexion: so, if you will come along with me, we'll agree upon your admission, and enter on a course of lectures directly. Bel. With all my heart. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Changes to a room in LADY RUSPORT's house. me. Char. Perhaps, your ladyship calls this instruction? Lady Rus. You're strangely pert; but 'tis no wonder. Your mother, I am told, was a fine lady; and according to the modern style of edu cation you was brought up. It was not so in my young days; there was, then, some decorum in the world, some subordination, as the great Locke expresses it. Oh! it was an edifying sight, to see the regular deportment observed in our family: no giggling, no gossiping was going on there; my good father, sir Oliver Roundhead, never was seen to laugh himself, nor ever allowed it in his children. Char. Ay; those were happy times, indeed! Lady Rus. But, in this forward age, we have coquettes in the egg-shell, and philosophers in the cradle; girls of fifteen, that lead the fashion in new caps and new opinions; that have their sentiments and their sensations; and the idle fops encourage them in it. O' my conscience, I wonder what it is the men can see in such babies! Enter LADY RUSPORT and CHARLOTTE. Lady Rus. Miss Rusport, I desire to hear no more of captain Dudley and his destitute family: not a shilling of mine shall ever cross the hands Char. True, madam: but all men do not overof any of them: because my sister chose to mar-look the maturer beauties of your ladyship's age; ry a beggar, am I bound to support him and his posterity? Char. I think you are. Lady Rus. You think I am? and, pray, where do you find the law that tells you so? Char. I am not proficient enough to quote chapter and verse; but I take charity to be a main clause in the great statute of Christianity. Lady Rus. I say charity, indeed! And pray, miss, are you sure that it is charity, pure charity, winch moves you to plead for captain Dudley? Amongst all your pity, do you find no spice of a certain anti-spiritual passion, called love? Don't mistake yourself; you are no saint, child, believe me; and, I am apt to think, the distresses of old Dudley, and of his daughter into the bargain, would never break your heart, if there was not a witness your admirer, Major Dennis O'Flaherty: there's an example of some discernment. I declare to you, when your ladyship is by, the major takes no more notice of me, than if I was part of the furniture of your chamber. Lady Rus. The major, child, has travelled through various kingdoms and climates, and has more enlarged notions of female merit than falls to the lot of an English home-bred lover: in most other countries, no woman on your side forty would ever be named in a polite circle. Char. Right, madam; I've been told, that in Vienna they have coquettes upon crutches, and Venuses in their grand climacteric a lover there celebrates the wrinkles, not the dimples, in his mistress's face. The major, I think, has served in the Imperial army, Lady Rus. Are you piqued, my young madam? Had my sister, Louisa, yielded to the addresses of one of Major O'Flaherty's person and appearance, she would have had some excuse: but to run away, as she did, at the age of sixteen too, with a man of old Dudley's sort Char. Was, in my opinion, the most venial trespass that ever girl of sixteen committed; of a noble family, an engaging person, strict honour, and sound understanding, what accomplishment was there wanting in Captain Dudley, but that which the prodigality of his ancestors had deprived him of? Lady Rus. They left him as much as he deserves: Hasn't the old man captain's half pay? And is not the son an ensign? Char. An ensign! Alas, poor Charles! Would to Heaven he knew what my heart feels and suffers, for his sake! Enter Servant. Ser. Ensign Dudley, to wait upon your ladyship. Lady Rus. Who? Dudley? What can have brought him to town? Char. Dear madam, 'tis Charles Dudley; 'tis your nephew. Lady Rus. Nephew! I renounce him as my nephew! Sir Oliver renounced him as his grandson. Wasn't he son of the eldest daughter, and only male descendant of sir Oliver? and didn't he cut him off with a shilling? Didn't the poor, dear, good man leave his whole fortune to me, except a small annuity to my maiden sister, who spoiled her constitution with nursing him? And, depend upon it, not a penny of that fortune shall ever be disposed of otherwise, than according to the will of the donor. Enter CHARLES DUDLEY. So, young man, whence come you? What brings you to town? Charles. If there is any offence in my coming to town, your ladyship is in some degree responsible for it; for part of my errand was to pay my duty here. Lady Rus. I hope you have some better excuse than all this. Charles. 'Tis true, madam, I have other motives; but, if I consider my trouble repaid by the pleasnre I now enjoy, I should hope my aunt would not think my company the less welcome for the value I set upon hers. Lady Rus. Coxcomb! And where is your father, child? and your sister? Are they in town, too? your nephew; how can you oppress a youth of his sensibility? Lady Rus. Miss Rusport, I insist upon your retiring to your apartment: when I want your advice, I'll send to you. [Exit CHARLOTTE.] So, you have put on a red coat, too, as well as your father? 'tis plain what value you set upon the good advice sir Oliver used to give you: how often has he cautioned you against the army? Charles. Had it pleased my grandfather to enable me to have obeyed his caution, I would have done it; but you well know how destitute I am; and 'tis not to be wondered at, if I prefer the service of my king to that of any other master. Lady Rus. Well, well; take your own course; 'tis no concern of mine: you never consulted me. Charles. I frequently wrote to your ladyship, but could obtain no answer; and, since my grandfather's death, this is the first opportunity I have had of waiting upon you. Lady Rus. I must desire you not to mention the death of that dear good man in my hearing; my spirits cannot support it. Charles. I shall obey you: permit me to say, that, as that event has richly supplied you with the materials of bounty, the distresses of my family can furnish you with objects of it. Lady Rus. The distresses of your family, child, are quite out of the question at present: had sir Oliver been pleased to consider them, I should have been well content; but he has abso lutely taken no notice of you in his will, and that, to me, must and shall be a law. Tell your father and your sister I totally disapprove of their coming up to town. Charles. Must I tell my father that, before your ladyship knows the motive that brought him hither?- -Allured by the offer of exchanging for a commission on full pay, the veteran, after thirty years service, prepares to encounter the fatal heats of Senegambia; but wants a small supply to equip him for the expedition. Enter Servant. Ser. Major O'Flaherty, to wait on your ladyship. Enter MAJOR O'FLAHERTY. O'Fla. Spare your speeches, young man ; don't you think her ladyship can take my word for that? I hope, madam, 'tis evidence enough of my being present, when I've the honour of telling you so myself. Lady Rus. Major O'Flaherty, I am rejoiced to see you. Nephew Dudley, you perceive I'm engaged. Charles. I shall not intrude upon your ladyship's more agreeable engagements. I presume I have my answer. Lady Rus. Your answer, child! What answer can you possibly expect?, or how can your ro mantic father suppose that I am to abet him in all his idle and extravagant undertakings? Come, major, let me shew you the way into my dressing-room, and let us leave this young adventurer to his meditation. [Erit. O'Fla. I follow you, my lady. Young gentleman, your obedient! Upon my conscience, as fine a young fellow as I would wish to clap my eyes on he might have answered my salute, however-well, let it pass: fortune, perhaps, frowns upon the poor lad; she's a damned slippery lady, and very apt to jilt us poor fellows, that wear cockades in our hats. Fare thee well, honey, whoever thou art. [Erit. Charles. So much for the virtues of a puritan! Out upon it! her heart is flint; yet that woman, that aunt of mine, without one worthy particle in her composition, would, I dare be sworn, as soon set her foot in a pest house as in a play-house. [Going. MISS RUSPORT enters to him. Char: Stop, stay a little, Charles; whither are you going in such haste? SCENE I.-A room in FULMER's house. -your eyes are Char. No, no; or if I havefull, too. But I have a thousand things to say to you. Before you go, tell me, I conjure you, where you are to be found; here, write me your direction; write it upon the back of this visitingticket-Have you a pencil? Charles. I have: but why should you desire to find us out? 'tis a poor, little, inconvenient place; my sister has no apartment fit to receive you in. Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, my lady desires your company directly. Char. I am coming-well, haye you wrote it? Give it me. O Charles! either you do not, or you will not, understand me. [Exeunt severally. ACT II. Enter FULMER and MRS FULMER. Mrs Ful. WHY, how you sit, musing and moping, sighing and desponding! I'm ashamed of you, Mr Fulmer: is this the country you described to me, a second Eldorado, rivers of gold and rocks of diamonds? You found me in a pretty snug retired way of life at Boulogne, out of the noise and bustle of the world, and wholly at my ease; you, indeed, was upon the wing, with a fiery persecution at your back: but, like a true son of Loyola, you had then a thousand ingenious devices to repair your fortune: and this, your native country, was to be the scene of your performances: fool that I was, to be inveigled into it by you! but, thank Heaven, our partnership is revocable. I am not your wedded wife, praised be my stars! for what have we got, whom have we gulled, but ourselves? which of all your trains has taken fire? even this poor expedient of your bookseller's shop seems abandoned; for if a chance customer drops in, who is there, pray, to help him to what he wants? Ful. Patty, you know it is not upon slight grounds that I despair; there had used to be a livelihood to be picked up in this country, both for the honest and dishonest: I have tried each walk, and am likely to starve at last: there is not a point to which the wit and faculty of man can turn, that I have not set mine to; but in vain, I am beat through every quarter of the compass. Mrs Ful. Ah! common efforts all: strike me a master-stroke, Mr Fulmer, if you wish to make any figure in this country. Ful. But where, how, and what? I have blustered for prerogative; I have bellowed for freedom; I have offered to serve my country; I have engaged to betray it. A master-stroke, truly! why, I have talked treason, writ treason; and, if a man can't live by that, he can live by nothing. Here I set up as a bookseller, why men left off reading; and, if I was to turn butcher, I believe, on my conscience, they'd leave off eating. CAPTAIN DUDLEY crosses the stage. Mrs Ful. Why, there now's your lodger, old captain Dudley, as he calls himself; there's no flint without fire; something might be struck out of him, if you had the wit to find the way. Ful. Hang him, an old dry-skinned curmudgeon! you may as well think to get truth out of a courtier, or candour out of a critic: I can make nothing of him; besides, he's poor, and therefore not for our purpose. Mrs Ful. The more fool he! Would any man be poor that had such a prodigy in his possession? Ful. His daughter, you mean? she is, indeed, uncommonly beautiful. Mrs Ful. Beautiful! Why, she need only be seen, to have the first men in the kingdom at her feet. Egad, I wish I had the leasing of her beauty; what would some of our young nabobs give Ful. Hush! here comes the captain; good 5 Z |