________________________________________________
_ ACT IV SCENE II
Enter FRANK ROCHDALE.
FRANK.
Shuffleton's intelligence astonishes me!--So soon to throw herself
into the arms of another!----and what could effect, even if time
for perseverance had favoured him, such a person's success with her!
Enter SIR SIMON ROCHDALE.
SIR SIMON.
Why, Frank! I thought you were walking with Lady Caroline.
FRANK.
No, sir.
SIR SIMON.
Ha! I wish you would learn some of the gallantries of the present day from your friend, Tom Shuffleton:--but from being careless of coming up to the fashion, damn it, you go beyond it? for you neglect a woman three days before marriage, as much as half the Tom Shuffletons three months after it.
FRANK.
As by entering into this marriage, sir, I shall perform the duties
of a son, I hope you will do me the justice to suppose I shall not
be basely negligent as a husband,
SIR SIMON.
Frank, you're a fool; and----
[Enter a SERVANT.]
Well, sir?
SERV.
A person, Sir Simon, says he wishes to see you on very urgent business.
SIR SIMON.
And I have very urgent business, just now, with my steward.
Who is the person? How did he come?
SERV.
On foot, Sir Simon.
SIR SIMON.
Oh, let him wait.
[Exit SERVANT.]
At all events, I can't see this person for these two hours.
--I wish you would see him for me.
FRANK.
Certainly, sir,--any thing is refuge to me, now, from the subject of matrimony.
[Aside, and going.]
SIR SIMON. But a word before you go. Damn it, my dear lad, why can't you perceive I am labouring this marriage for your good? We shall ennoble the Rochdales:--for, though my father,--your grandfather,--did some service in elections (that made him a baronet), amassed property, and bought lands, and so on, yet, your great grandfather--Come here----your great grandfather was a miller.
[Half whispering.]
FRANK.
[Smiling.]
I shall not respect his memory less, sir, for knowing his occupation.
SIR SIMON.
But the world will, you blockhead: and, for your sake,
for the sake of our posterity, I would cross the cart breed,
as much as possible, by blood.
FRANK.
Is that of consequence, sir?
SIR SIMON.
Isn't it the common policy? and the necessities of your boasters of pedigree produce a thousand intermarriages with people of no pedigree at all;--till, at last, we so jumble a genealogy, that, if the devil himself would pluck knowledge from the family tree, he could hardly find out the original fruit.
[Exeunt severally.]
[ Enter TOM SHUFFLETON, from the Park, following LADY CAROLINE BRAYMORE.]
SHUFF.
"The time is come for Iphigene to find,
"The miracle she wrought upon my mind;"
LADY CAR.
Don't talk to me.
SHUFF.
"For, now, by love, by force she shall be mine,
"Or death, if force should fail, shall finish my design."
LADY CAR.
I wish you would finish your nonsense.
SHUFF.
Nonsense:--'tis poetry; somebody told me 'twas written by Dryden.
LADY CAR.
Perhaps so;----but all poetry is nonsense.
SHUFF.
Hear me, then, in prose.
LADY CAR.
Psha!--that's worse.
SHUFF.
Then I must express my meaning in pantomime. Shall I ogle you?
LADY CAR.
You are a teasing wretch;--I have subjected myself, I find,
to very ill treatment, in this petty family;--and begin to
perceive I am a very weak woman.
SHUFF.
[Aside.]
Pretty well for that matter.
LADY CAR.
To find myself absolutely avoided by the gentleman I meant
to honour with my hand,--so pointedly neglected!----
SHUFF.
I must confess it looks a little like a complete cut.
LADY CAR.
And what you told me of the low attachment that----
SHUFF.
Nay, my dear Lady Caroline, don't say that I told you more than----
LADY CAR.
I won't have it denied:--and I'm sure 'tis all true. See here--
here's an odious parchment Lord Fitz Balaam put into my hand
in the park.--A marriage license, I think he calls it--but
if I don't scatter it in a thousand pieces----
SHUFF.
[Preventing her.]
Softly, my dear Lady Caroline; that's a license of marriage, you know. The names are inserted of course.--Some of them may be rubbed a little in the carriage; but they may be filled up at pleasure, you know.----Frank's my friend,----and if he has been negligent, I say nothing; but the parson of the parish is as blind as a beetle.
LADY CAR.
Now, don't you think, Mr. Shuffleton, I am a very ill used person?
SHUFF.
I feel inwardly for you, Lady Caroline; but my friend makes
the subject delicate. Let us change it. Did you observe
the steeple upon the hill, at the end of the park pales?
LADY CAR.
Psha?--No.
SHUFF.
It belongs to one of the prettiest little village churches you
ever saw in your life. Let me show you the inside of the church,
Lady Caroline.
LADY CAR.
I am almost afraid: for, if I should make a rash vow there,
what is to become of my Lord Fitz Balaam?
SHUFF.
Oh, that's true; I had forgot his lordship:--but as the exigencies
of the times demand it, let us hurry the question through the Commons,
and when it has passed, with such strong independent interest on
our sides, it will hardly be thrown out by the Peerage.
[Exeunt.] _
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