Scarborough and the Critic | Page 7

such a variety of?entertainments, I believe the wisest of our ancestors never had the least conception of any of 'em. I rise, madam, when in town, about twelve o'clock. I don't rise sooner, because it is the worst thing in the world for the complexion: not that I pretend to be a beau; but a man must endeavour to look decent, lest he makes so odious a figure in the side-bax, the ladies should be compelled to turn their eyes upon the play. So at twelve o'clock, I say, I rise. Naw, if I find it is a good day, I resalve to take the exercise of riding; so drink my chocolate, and draw on my boots by two. On my return, I dress; and, after dinner, lounge perhaps to the opera.?Ber. Your lordship, I suppose, is fond of music??Lord Fop. Oh, passionately, on Tuesdays and Saturdays; for then there is always the best company, and one is not expected to undergo the fatigue of listening.?Aman. Does your lordship think that the case at the opera? Lord Fop. Most certainly, madam. There is my Lady Tattle, my Lady Prate, my Lady Titter, my Lady Sneer, my Lady Giggle, and my Lady Grin--these have boxes in the front, and while any?favourite air is singing, are the prettiest company in the?waurld, stap my vitals!--Mayn't we hope for the honour to see you added to our society, madam??Aman. Alas! my lord, I am the worst company in the world?at a concert, I'm so apt to attend to the music.?Lord Fop. Why, madam, that is very pardonable in the?country or at church, but a monstrous inattention in a polite assembly. But I am afraid I tire the company??Love. Not at all. Pray go on.?Lord Fop. Why then, ladies, there only remains to add,?that I generally conclude the evening at one or other of the clubs; nat that I ever play deep; indeed I have been for some time tied up from losing above five thousand paunds at a sitting. Love. But isn't your lordship sometimes obliged to attend the weighty affairs of the nation??Lord Fop. Sir, as to weighty affairs, I leave them to?weighty heads; I never intend mine shall be a burden to my body. Ber. Nay, my lord, but you are a pillar of the state.?Lord Fop. An ornamental pillar, madam; for sooner than?undergo any part of the fatigue, rat me, but the whole building should fall plump to the ground!?Aman. But, my lord, a fine gentleman spends a great deal?of his time in his intrigues; you have given us no account of them yet.?Lord Fop. [Aside.] So! she would inquire into my?amours--that's jealousy, poor soul!--I see she's in love with me.--[Aloud.] O Lord, madam, I had like to have forgot a?secret I must need tell your ladyship.--Ned, you must not be so jealous now as to listen.?Love. [Leading_ BERINTHIA _up the stage.] Not?I, my lord; I am too fashionable a husband to pry into the?secrets of my wife.?Lord Fop. [Aside to_ AMANDA squeezing her?hand_.] I am in love with you to desperation, strike me?speechless!?Aman. [Strikes him on the ear.] Then thus I return?your passion.--An impudent fool!?Lord Fop. God's curse, madam, I am a peer of the realm!?Love. [Hastily returning.] Hey! what the devil, do?you affront my wife, sir? Nay, then--?[Draws. They fight.]?Aman. What has my folly done?--Help! murder! help! Part?them for Heaven's sake.?Lord Fop. [Falls back and leans on his sword.] Ah!?quite through the body, stap my vitals!?Enter SERVANTS.?Love. [Runs to LORD FOPPINGTON.] I hope I ha'nt?killed the fool, however. Bear him up.--Call a surgeon there. Lord Fop. Ay, pray make haste. [Exit SERVANT.?Love. This mischief you may thank yourself for.?Lord Fop. I may say so; love's the devil indeed, Ned.?Re-enter_ SERVANT, _with PROBE.?Ser. Here's Mr. Probe, sir, was just going by the door.?Lord Fop. He's the welcomest man alive.?Probe. Stand by, stand by, stand by; pray, gentlemen,?stand by. Lord have mercy upon us, did you never see a man run through the body before?--Pray stand by.?Lord Fop. Ah, Mr. Probe, I'm a dead man.?Probe. A dead man, and I by! I should laugh to see that,?egad.?Love. Pr'ythee don't stand prating, but look upon his?wound.?Probe. Why, what if I don't look upon his wound this hour, sir??Love. Why, then he'll bleed to death, sir.?Probe. Why, then I'll fetch him to life again, sir.?Love. 'Slife! he's run through the body, I tell thee.?Probe. I wish he was run through the heart, and I should?get the more credit by his cure. Now I hope you are satisfied? Come, now let me come at him--now let me come at him.--?[Viewing his wound.] Oops I what a gash is here! why, sir, a man may drive a coach and six horses into your body.?Lord Fop. Oh!?Probe. Why, what the devil have you run the gentleman?through