3392 
 W52.
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 THE 
 
 WEST INDIAN: 
 
 A 
 
 COMEDY. 
 
 As it is Performed at the 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL 
 
 I N 
 DRURY-LANE. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE BROTHERS. 
 
 Qnis novus bic Hofpes? 
 THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for W. GRIFFIN, at GARRICK'S HEAD, 
 
 in CATHARINE-STREET, STRAND, 
 
 MDCCLXXI,
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 SPOKEN BY 
 
 MR. R D D I S H. 
 
 RI T I C S, hark forward ! noble game and new; 
 : A fine Weft Indian fiarted full in view : 
 Hot as the foil, the dime, which gave him birth, 
 You'll run him on a 'burning fcent to earth ; 
 Yet don't devour him in his hiding place, 
 Bag him, heMlTerve you for another chacej 
 For fure^that country has no feeble claim, 
 Which fwelis your commerce, and fupports your fameii 
 And in this humble fketch, we hope you'll find, 
 Some emanations of a noble mind; 
 Some little touches, which, tho' void of art, 
 May find perhaps their way into the heart. 
 Another hero your excufe implores, 
 Sent by your fitter kingdom to your fliores ; 
 
 Doonvd by Religion's too fevere command, 
 To fight for bread againft his native land : 
 
 A brave, unthinking, animated rogue, 
 
 W T ith here and there a touch upon the brogue j 
 
 Laugh, but defpife him not, for on his lip 
 
 His errors lie ; his heart can never trip. 
 
 Others there are but may we not prevail 
 
 To let the gentry tell their own plain tale ? 
 
 Shall they come in ? They'll pleafe you, if they can 5 
 
 If not, condemn the bard but fpare the Man. 
 
 For fpeak, think, aft, or write in angry times, 
 
 A wifh to pleafe is made the worft of crimes ; 
 
 Dire flander n6w with black envenom'd dart, 
 
 Stands everarm'd te ftab you to the heart. 
 
 Rufe, 
 
 958175
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Roufe, Britons, roufe, for honour of your ifle, 
 Your old good humour ; and be feen to fmile. 
 You fay we write not like our fathers true, 
 Nor were our fathers half fo ftrict as you, 
 Damn'd not each error of the poets pen, 
 But judging man, remember'd they were men* 
 Aw'd into filence by the times abufe, 
 Sleeps many a wife, and many a witty mufe j 
 We that for mere experiment come out, 
 Are but the light arm'd rangers on the fcout : 
 High on Parnaflus' lofty fummit ftands 
 The immortal camp ; there lie the chofen bands ! 
 But give fair quarter to us puny elves, 
 The giants then will fally forth themfelves ; 
 With wit's fharp weapons vindicate the age, 
 And drive ev y n Arthur's magic from the Stage. 
 
 D R A-
 
 Dramatis Perfonse. 
 
 MEN. 
 
 Stockwell, - Mr. Aickin. 
 
 Belcour, - - Mr. King. 
 
 Captain Dudley, - Mr. Packer. 
 
 Charles Dudley, - - Mr. Cautherly. 
 
 Major O'Flaherty, 9 Mr. Moody. 
 
 Stukely, - - Mr. J. Aickin. 
 
 Fulmer, 8 *! * Mr. Baddely. 
 
 Varland, - Mr. Parfons. 
 
 Servant to Stockwell, Mr. Wheeler, 
 
 WOMEN, 
 
 Lady Rufport, 
 Charlotte Rufport, 
 Louifa, daughter to Dudley, 
 Mrs. Fulmer, - , 
 
 Lucy, 
 
 - Mrs. Hopkins. 
 
 - Mrs. Abington, 
 
 - Mrs. Baddely, 
 
 - Mrs. Egerton, 
 
 - Mrs. Love. 
 
 Houfekeeper belonging to Stockwell, Mrs. Brad/haw. 
 Clerks belonging to Stock well j fervants, Tailors, negroes, &c 
 SCENE, LONDON.
 
 THE 
 
 WEST INDIAN. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 A MERCHANT'S COMPTING HOUSE. 
 
 In an inner room^ fet off" by glafe doors, are difcovered fever al 
 clerks , employed at their dejks. A writing table in the 
 front room. STOCICWELL is difcovered reading a letter ; 
 STUKELY comes gently out of the back room, and obferves 
 him fame time before he fpeaks. 
 
 STU k E L Y. 
 
 HE feems disordered : fomething in that letter ; and 
 I'm afraid of an unpleafant fort. He has many 
 ventures of great account at fea ; a fhip richly freighted 
 for Barcelona ; another for Lifbon ; and others expeded 
 from Cadiz of ftill greater value. Befides thefe, I know 
 he has many deep concerns in foreign bottoms, and under- 
 writings to a vaft amount. I'll accoft him. Sir ! Mr. 
 Stockwell ! 
 
 S T O C KW ELL. 
 
 Stukely ! Well, have you fhip'd the cloths ? 
 
 STUKELY. 
 
 I have, Sir ; here's the bill of lading, and copy of the 
 invoice : the afibrtments are all compared : Mr. Traffick 
 will give you the policy upon 'Change. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 'Tis very well ; lay thefe papers by ; arid no more of 
 
 bufinefs for a while. Shut the doer Stukely; I have 
 
 had long proflf of your friendship and fidelity to me ; a 
 
 B ' matter
 
 i THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 mailer of mof 1 intimate concern lies on my mind, and 
 'twill be a fen fjble relief to unbofom myfelf to you; 
 have juft now been informed of the Arrival of the young 
 Weft Indian, i have fo long been expecting ; you know 
 who 1 mean. 
 
 s T u K E L v. 
 
 Yes, Sir; Mr. Belcour, the young gentleman, who 
 inherited" old Belcour :> great eftates in Jamaica. 
 
 STOCKWF. LL. 
 
 . Hu(h, not fo 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 wonder'd at, if his coming throws me into fome 
 agitation, when I tell you, Stukely, he is my fon ? 
 
 S T U K E L Y. 
 
 ' Your fon ! 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Yes, Sir, my only fon; early in life I accompanied h-'ff 
 grandfather to Jamaica as his clerk; he had an only 
 daughter, fomewhat older than myfelf; the mother of 
 this gentleman ; it was my chance (call it good or ill) to 
 engage her affections : and, as the inferiority of my con- 
 dition made it hopelefs to expect her father's confent, her 
 fondnefs provided an expedient, and we were privately 
 married ; the iflue of that concealed engagement is, a I 
 have told you, this Belcour. 
 
 STUKELY. 
 
 That event, furely, difcovered your connexion. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 You fhall hear. Not many days after cur marriage 
 eld Belcour fet out for England ; and, during his abode 
 here, my wife was, with great fecrefy, delivered of this 
 fon. Fruitful in expedients to difguife her fituation, 
 without parting from her infant, file contrived to have 
 it laid and received at her door as a foundling. After 
 fome time her father returned, having left me here ; in 
 one of thofe favourable moments, that decide the fortunes 
 of profperous men, this child was introduced ; from that 
 jnfrant, he treated him as his own, gave him his name, 
 .arid brought him up in his family. 
 
 STUKELY.
 
 C O M -E D Y. 
 
 S T U K E, L Y. 
 
 3 
 
 And did you never reveal this fecret, ' either to old 
 fceicour, or your fon ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Never. 
 
 S T U K E L Y. 
 
 Therein you furprize me; a merchant of your emi- 
 nence, and a member of the Britifh parliament, might 
 furely afpire, without offence, to the daughter of a plan- 
 ter. In this cafe too, natural affection would prompt to 
 a difcovery 
 
 STOCKWEEL. 
 
 Your remark is obvious ; nor .could I have perfifted in 
 this painful filence, but in obedience to the dying injunc- 
 tions of a beloved wife. The letter, -you found me read- 
 ing, conveyed thofe injunctions to me ; it was dictated in 
 her laft illnefs, and almoft in the article of death . (you'll 
 fpare me the recital of it) (he there conjures me, in terms 
 as folemn, as they are affecting, never to reveal che fe- 
 cret of our marriage, or withdraw my fon, while her 
 father furviv'd. 
 
 S T U K E L Y. 
 
 But on what motives did your unhappy lady found thefe 
 injunctions ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Principally, I believe, from apprehenfion on my ac- 
 count, left old Belcour, on whom at her deceafe I 
 wholly depended, {hould withdraw his protection : in 
 part from Conlideration of his repofe, as well knowing 
 the difcovery would deeply affect his fpirit, which wrs 
 haughty, vehement, and unforgiving : and laftly, in re- 
 gard to the intereft of her infant, whom he hud warmly 
 adopted ; and for whom, in caie of a difcovery, every 
 thing was to be dreaded from his refentment. And, in- 
 deed, though the alteration in my condition might have 
 juftified me in difcovering myfelf, yet I always thought 
 my fon fafer in trufling to the caprice than to the jufuce 
 of his grand-father. My judgment has not fuffered by 
 the event ; old Belcour is dead, and has bequeathed his 
 whole eftate tp him we are fpeaking of. 
 
 B 2 STUKEI.Y,
 
 ^ THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 S T U K E L 
 
 Now then you are no longer bound to fecrecy. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 True: but before I publicity reveal myfelf, I cou!4 
 Twifh to make fome experiment of my fon's difpofition ; 
 this can only be done by letting his. fpirit take its courfe 
 without reftraint ; by thefe means, I think I (hall difcover 
 piuch more of his real charadter under the title of his 
 merchant, than I Ihould under that of his father. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 : A Sailor enters, ujhering in fever al black fervants, carrying 
 portmanteaus > trunks^ &c. 
 
 SAILOR. 
 
 Save your honour ! is your name Stockwell pray J 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 It is. 
 
 SAILOR. 
 
 Part of my matter Belcour's baggage an't pleafe you j 
 there's another cargo not far a-ftern of us ; and the cock- 
 fwain has got charge of the dumb creatures. 
 
 S T O C K W E L L. 
 
 Pr'ythee, friend, what dumb creatures do you fpeak 
 of ; has Mr. Belcour brought over a collection of wilcj 
 beafts ? 
 
 SAILOR. 
 
 No, Lord love him j no, not he: let me fee; there's 
 two green monkies, a pair of grey parrots, a Jamaica 
 ibw and pigs, and a Mangrove dog; that's all. 
 
 STOCK WELL* 
 
 Is that all ? 
 
 SAILOR. 
 
 Yes, your honour ; yes, that's all ; blefs his heart 
 a'mtght have brought over the whole ifland if he would j 
 g didn't leave a dry eye in it. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Indeed ! Stukely, fliew 'em where to beftove 
 baggage. Follow that gentleman. 
 SAILOR. 
 Come 3 bear a hand, rny lads, bear a hand. 
 
 [Exit with Stukely and Servants^
 
 A COMEDY. 5 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 If the principal tallies with his purveyors, he muft be 
 a Angular fpec"tacle in this place : he has a friend,' how- 
 ever, in this fea-faring fellow ; 'tis no bad prognoftic of 
 a man's heart, when his fhip-mates give him a good 
 word. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Scene changes to a drawing room, a fervant difeovered fetting 
 the chairs by, &c. a woman fervant enters to him* 
 
 HOUSEKEEPER. 
 
 Why, what a fufs does our good mafter put himfelf 
 in about this Weft Indian : fee what a bill of fare I've 
 been forced to draw out : feven and nine I'll aflure 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. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 I wifh to my heart you had but feen the loads of trunks, 
 boxes, and portmanteaus he has fent hither. An am- 
 baflador's baggage, with all the fmuggled goods of his 
 family, does not exceed it. 
 
 HOUSEKEEPER. 
 
 A fine pickle he'll put the houfe into : had he been 
 jnafter's own fon, and a Chriftian Englishman, there 
 cou'd not be more rout than there is about this Creolian, 
 as they call 'em. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 No matter for that ; he's very rich, and that's fuffi- 
 Cient. They fay he has rum and fugar enough belonging 
 to him, to make all the water in the Thames into punch. 
 But I fee my matter's coming. [Extunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 STCK WELL enters, followed by a fervant. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Where is Mr. Belcour ? Who brought this note fron* 
 " m
 
 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 S E R V ANT. 
 
 A waiter from the London Tavern, Sir ; he fays the 
 young gentleman is juft dreft, and will be with you 
 tfire&Jy, 
 
 5TOCK.WELL. 
 
 Shew him in when he arrives. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 1 (hall, Sir. I'll have a peep at him firft, however ; 
 I've a great mind to fee this outlandifh fparlc. The failor 
 fellow fays he'll make rare doings amonglt us, (aJiJe.) 
 
 STOCKWELL, 
 
 You need not wait j leave me. [Exit Servant. 
 
 Let me fee (reads.) 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 * I write to you under the hands of the hair-drefler ; 
 as foon as I have made myfelf decent, and flipped on 
 ct fome frefli cloaths, I will have the honour of paying 
 you my devoirs. Yours, 
 
 "BE LCOUR," 
 
 He writes at his eafe ; for he's unconfcious to. whom 
 his letter is addrefled ; but what a palpitation does it throw 
 my heart into ; a father's heart ! 'Tis an affe&ing inter- 
 view i when my eyes meet a fon, whom yet they never 
 faw, where (hall ). find conftancy to fupport it ? Should 
 he refemble his mother, I am overthrown. All the let- 
 ters 1 have had from him, (for i induftrioufly drew him 
 into a correfpondence with me) befpeak him of quick and 
 ready understanding. All the reports I ever received, 
 give me favourable impreflions of his character ; wild, 
 perhaps, as the manner of his country is, but, I trufl;, 
 jiot frantic or unprincipled. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 SERVANT enters* 
 
 SERVANT. 
 Sir, the foreign gentleman is come. 
 
 dnstktfi
 
 A COMEDY. * 
 
 Another SERVANT. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 Mr. Belcour. 
 
 B L c o u R enters, 
 
 STOCKW ELL. 
 
 Mr. Belcour, I'm rejoiced to fee you ; you're welcome 
 to England. 
 
 B L- L C O U R. 
 
 I thank you heartily, good Mr. Stockwell ; you and 1 
 have long converfed at a diftance ; now we are met, and 
 the pleafure this rr.ccting gives me, amply compensates foe 
 the perils I have run through in accomplifhing it. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 What perils, Mr. Beicour r I could not have thought 
 you would have met a bad paflage at this time o'year, 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Nor did we : courier like, we came pofting to your 
 fliores, upon the pinions of the fwifteft gales that ever 
 blew; 'tis upon Englifti ground all my difficulties have 
 arifen ; 'tis the paflage horn the river-fide I complain of. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Ay, indeed ! What obftructions can you have met 
 between this and the river-fide ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Innumerable ! Your town's as full of defiles as the 
 Ifland of Corfica ; and, I believe, they are as obftinately 
 defended : fo much hurry, buftle, and confufion, on your 
 quays ; fo many fugar-cafks, porter-butts and common 
 council-men, in your ftreets ; that, unlefs a man marched 
 with artillery in his front, 'tis more than the labour of a 
 Hercules can effect to make any tolerable way through 
 your town. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I am forry you have been fo incommoded. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Why, faith *t was all my own fault; accuftomed to a 
 land of flavcs, and out of patience with the whole tribe 
 of cuftom-houfe extortioners, boat-men, tide-waiters and 
 .water-bailiiFs, that bcfet me on all fides, worfe than a
 
 $ THE WEST INDIAN; 
 
 fwarm of mufquetoes, I proceeded a little too roughly to 
 brufh them away with my rattan ; the fturdy rogues took 
 this in dudgen, and beginning to rebel, the mob chofe 
 different fides, and a furious fcuffle erifued j in the courfe 
 of which, my perfon and apparel fuffered fo nruch, that I 
 was obliged to ftep into the firft tavern to refit," before I 
 could make my approaches in any decent trim. 
 
 S T OC K WE L L. 
 
 All without is as I wifh ; dear Nature add the reft, and 
 I am happy (afide.) WeH, Mr. Belcour, 'tis a rough 
 fample you have had of my countrymen's fpirit j but, I 
 truft, you'll not think the worfe of them for it. 
 
 B E L C C>"U R. 
 
 Not at all, not at all j I like 'em the better ; was I 
 only a vifitor, I might, perhaps, wifh them a little more 
 traceable ; but, as a fellow fubjefr, and a fharer in their 
 freedom, I applaud their fpirit, though 1 feel the effe&s 
 of it in every bone in my fkin. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 That's well ; I like that well. How gladly I could 
 fall upon his neck, and own myfelf his father ! (afide.) 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Well, Mr. Stockwell, for the firft time in my life, here 
 am I in England ; at the fountain head of pleafure, in the 
 land of beauty, of arts, and elegancies. My happy ftars 
 have given me a good eftate, and the conlpiring winds 
 have blown me hither to fpend it. 
 
 STOCKWELL 
 
 To ufe it, not to wafte it, I (hould hope ; to treat it^ 
 Mr. Belcour, not as a vaffal, over whom you have a 
 wanton and defpotic power j but as a fubject, which you 
 are bound 'to govern with a temperate and reftrained 
 authority. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 True, Sir; moft truly faid ; mine's a commifllofi, not 
 a right : I am the offspring of diftfefs, and every child of 
 forrow is my brother ; while I have hands to hold, there- 
 fore, I will hold them open to mankind : but, Sir, my 
 paflions are my maftcrs j they take me where they will ; 
 and oftentimes they leave to reafon and to virtue nothing 
 but my wifhes and niy fighs.
 
 ACOMEDY. 9 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 Come, come, the man who can accufe corrects him- 
 felf. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Ah ! that's an office I arn weary of: I wifh a friend 
 would take it up : I would to Heaven you had leifure for 
 the employ j bu*t, did you drive a traci^ to the four cor- 
 ners of the world, you would not find the tafk fo toilfome 
 as to keep me tree from faults. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Well, I am not difcouraged : this candour ttlls me I 
 Should not have the fault of feJf-conctic to combat; that, 
 at leaft, is not amongft the number. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 No ; if I knew that man on earth who thought more 
 humbly of me than I do of myfeif, I would take up his 
 Opinion and forego my own. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 And, was I to chufe a pupil, it fhould be one of your 
 compiexio n : fo if you'll come along with me, we'll agree 
 lipon your admiuion, and enter on a courfe of lectures di- 
 dirediy. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 With all my heart. \J*,xeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Scene changes to a Room in LADY RUSPORT'J Houfe. 
 LADY R.USPORT and CHARLOTTE, 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Mifs Rufport, I defire to hear no more of Captain 
 Dudley and his deftitute family : not a /hilling of mine 
 (hall ever crofs the hands of any of them: becaufe my filter 
 chofe to marry a beggar, am I bound to fupport him and 
 hi a poflerity ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE, 
 
 I think you are. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 You think I am j and pray where do you find the law 
 that tell s you fo?
 
 jo THE WEST INDIAN; 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I am not proficient enough to quote chapter and verfe j 
 but I take charity to be a main claufe in the g.eac ftatutq 
 of chriflianity* -< 
 
 LADY JR."**? SPORT. >/ 
 
 I fay charity, indeed ! And pray, Mifs, are you furs' 
 that it is chari'y, pure charity, which moves you to plead 
 for Captain Dudley ? Amongft all your pity, do you find 
 no (pice of" a certain anti-fpiritual paflion, 'called love? 
 Don't miftake yourfelf; you are no faint, child, believe 
 me; and, I am apt to think, the diftrefTes of old Dudl y, 
 ?nd of his daughter into the bargain, would never break 
 your heart, if there was not a certain young fellow of two 
 and twenty in the cafe; who, by the happy recommen- 
 dation of a good perfon, and the brilliant appointments of 
 an enfigncy, will, if I am not rniftaken, cozen you out of 
 a fortune of twice twenty thoufand pounds, as foon as ever, 
 you are of age to beftow it upon him. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 A nephew of your ladyfhip's can never want any othe^ 
 recommendation with me; and, if my partiality for Charles 
 Dudley is acquitted by the reft of the world, i hope Lady 
 Rufport will not condemn me for it. 
 
 LADY R U S P O R T. 
 
 I condemn you ! I thank Heaven, M fs Rufport, I am, 
 no ways refponnble for your conduct; nor is it any con- 
 cern of mine how you difpofe of yourfelf; you are not my 
 daughter ; and, when I married your father, poor Sir Ste- 
 phen Rufport, I found you a forward fpoiled Mifs of four- 
 teen, fat above being inftru6led by me. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Perhaps your ladyftiip calls this inftru&ion. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 You're ftrangely pert ; but 'tis no wonder : your mo- 
 ther, I'm told, was a fine My ; and according to the mo- 
 dern ftile or education you was brought up. It was not fo 
 in my young days ; there was then fome decorum in the 
 world, fome fubordination, as the great Locke exprefTes 
 it. Oh! 'twas an edifying fight, to fee the regular de- 
 portment obferved in our family : no giglin, no gofliping 
 $vas going on there; my good father, Sir Oliver Round-. 
 head, never w.;s ' feen to laugh himfelf, nor ever allowe4 
 )t in his children.
 
 A COMEDY. H 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Ay ; thofe were happy times, indeed. 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 .. But, in this forward age, we have coquets in the egg- 
 fhell, and philbfophers in the cradle; girls of fifteen that 
 lead the fafhion in new c::ps and new opinions, that have 
 their fentiments and their fenfations, and the idle fops en- 
 courage 'em in it : Q' my confcieuce, I wonder what it is 
 the men can fee in fuch babies. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 True, Madam ; b'jt all men do not overlook the ma- 
 turer beauties ot your ladyfliip'b age, witnefs your admirer 
 Ikiajor Dennis O'Flaherty j there's an example of feme 
 difcernment; I declare to you, when your ladyfhip is by 
 the M-ijor takes no more notice of me than if I was part 
 of the furniture of your chamber. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 The Major, child, has travelled through various king- 
 doms and climates, and has more enlarged notions of fe- 
 male merit than falls to the lot of an Englilh home-bred 
 lover ; in moft other countries, no woman on your fide 
 forty would ever be named in a polite circle. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Right, Madam; I've been told that in Vienna they have 
 coquets upon ciutche. , and Venufes in their grand climac- 
 terici a lever there celebrates th^ wrinkles, not the dim- 
 ples, in his miftrefs's face. The Major, I think, has 
 ferved in the imperial army. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Are you piqu'd, my young Madam ? Had my fitter, 
 Louifa, yielded to the addreffes of one of Major O'Fla- 
 herty's perfon and appearance, (he would have had fome 
 excufe: but to run away, as (he did, at the age of fixteen 
 too, with a man of old Dudley's fort 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Was, in my opinion, the moft venial trefpafs that ever 
 girl of lixteen committed ; of a nobl family, an engaging 
 perfon, ftrit honour, and found underRanding, what ac- 
 complimment was there wancing in Captain Dudley, but 
 that which the prodigality of his ancestors had deprived 
 him off 
 
 C2
 
 12 T H E W E S T I N D I A N: 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 They left him as much as hedeferves; hasn't the old 
 man captain's half-pay ? And is not the fon an enfign ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 An enfign ! Alas, poor Charles ! Would to Heaven he 
 knew what my heart feels and fufftrs for his fake. 
 
 SERVANT enters. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 Enfign Dudley to wait upon your ladythip. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Who ! Dudley ! What can have brought him tr 
 town ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Dear madam, 'tis Charles Dudley, 'tis your nephew. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Nephew ! I renounce him as my nephew ; Sir Oliver 
 renounced him as his grandfon : wasn't he fon of the eldeft 
 daughter, and only male defcendant of Sir Oliver ; and 
 didn't he cut him off with a {hilling? Didn't the poor dear 
 good man leave his whole fortune to me, except a fmall 
 annuity to my maiden filler, who fpoiled her conftitution 
 with r.uifing him ? And, depend upon it, not a penny of 
 that fortune (hall ever be difpofed of otherwife than ac- 
 coiding to the will of the donor. (CHARLES DUDLEY 
 enters.) So young man, whence come you ? What brings 
 you to town ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 If there is any offence in my coming to town, your 
 ladyfhip is in fome degree refponhble for it, for part of my 
 eirand was to pay my duty here. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 I hoj;e you have fome better excufc than all this. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 'Tis true, madam, I have other motives; but, if I con- 
 fider my trouble n paid by the pleafure I now enjoy, I 
 fliould hope my aunr would not think my company the lefs 
 welcome for the value I fet upon hu's. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Coxcomb! ^nd where js your father, child} and your 
 fifiej ? Are they in town too I
 
 A COMEDY. 13 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 They are. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Ridiculous! I don t know what people do in London, 
 who have no money tofpend in it. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Dear madam, fpeak more kindly ro your nephew j how 
 can you opprefs a youth of his friifibility ? 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Mifs Rufport, I inllft upon your ret. ring to your apart- 
 ment i when! want your advice I'll f.nd to you. (Exit 
 CHARLOTTE.) So you have put on a red coat too, as 
 well as your father j 'tis plain what value you fet upon the 
 good advice Sir Oliver uieJ to give you j how often has he 
 caution'd you againlt the a:my ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Had it pleafed my grandfather to enable me to have 
 obeyed his caution, I would have done it j but you well 
 know how dcftitute I am ; and 'tis not to be wonder'd at 
 if I prefer the fervice of my king to that of any other 
 mailer. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Well, well, take your own courfe j 'us no concern of 
 mine : you never confulted me. 
 
 C.H A R L E S. 
 
 I frequently wrote to your ladyfhip, but could obtain no 
 anfwer; and, fince my grandfather's death, th;s is the fiift 
 opportunity I have had of waiting upon you. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 I muft defire you not to mention the death of that dear 
 good man in my hearing, my fpints cannot fjpport it* 
 
 C H A R L E S. 
 
 I fhall obey you : permit me to iay, that, as that event 
 has richly fupplied you with the materials of bounty, the 
 diftreffes of my family can furniih y<>u with objects of it. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 The diftreffes of your family, child, are quite out of 
 the queftion at prefent ; had bir Oliver been pieafed to 
 confider them, I fhould have been well concent; but ha 
 has abfolutely taken no notice of you in his will, and that
 
 * THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 to me muft and {hall be a law. Tell your father and your 
 fitter I totally difapprove of their coming up to town. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Muft I tell my father that, before your ladyfhip kncAvs 
 the motive that brought him hither ? Allur'd by the offer 
 of exchanging for a commhTion on full pay, the veteran, 
 after thirty years fervice, prepares to encounter the fatal 
 heats of Senegambia ; but wants a fmall fupply to equip 
 him for the expedition. 
 
 SERVANT enters. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 Major O'Flaherty to wait upon your ladyfhip. 
 
 MAJOR enters. 
 
 MAJOR. 
 
 Spare your fpeeches, young man; don't you think her 
 lady {hip can take my word for that? [ hope, madam, 'tis 
 evidence enough of my being prefent, when I've the ho- 
 nour of telling you fo myfelf. 
 
 I A D Y R U S P O R T. 
 
 Major O'Flaherty, I am rejoiced to fee you. Nephew 
 Dudley, you perceive I'm engaged. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I {hall not intrude upon your ladyfhip's more agreeable 
 engagements. 1 prefume I have my anfwer. 
 LADY k u s p o R T. 
 
 Your anfwer, child ! What anfwer can you poffibly ex- 
 pect ; or how can your romantic father fuppofe that I am to 
 abet him in all his idle and extravagant undertakings ? 
 Come, Major, let me {hew you the way into my dreifing- 
 room; and let us leave this young adventurer to his medi- 
 tation. [Exit. 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 I follow you, my lady. Young gentleman, your 
 obedient ! Upon my confcience, as fine a young fellow 
 as I wou'd wifh to clap my eyes on : he might have an- 
 iwered my falute, however well, let it pafs; Fortune, 
 perhaps, frowns upon the poor lad i file's a damn'd flip-
 
 A G O M E D Y. *5 
 
 pery lady, and very apt to jilt us poor fellows, that wear 
 cocka-tes in our hats. Fare- thee- well, honey, whoever 
 thou art. [Exit. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 So much for the virtues of a puritan ; out upon it, her 
 heart is tiint; yet that woman, that aunt of mfne, with- 
 out one worthy particle in her compofition, wou'd, I 
 dare be fworn, as foon fet her foot in a peft-houfe, as in 
 aphy-houfe. [going, 
 
 (Miss RUSPORT enters to him.) 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Stop, ftay a little, Charles, whither are you going 
 in fuch hafte ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Madam j Mifs Rufport ; what are your commands ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Why fo referved ? We had ufed to anfwer to no other 
 pames than thofe of Charles and Charlotte. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 What ails you ? you've been weeping. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 No, no ; or if I have your eyes are full too ; but I 
 b,ave. a thoufand things to fay to you : before you go, 
 tell me, I conjure you, where you are to be found j here, 
 give me your direction ; write it upon the back of this 
 Yifiting ticket Have you a pencil ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I have : but why (hou'd you defire to find us out ? 'tis 
 a poor little inconvenient place 3 my fifter has no apart - 
 jnent fit to receive you in. 
 
 (Servant enters.} 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 Madam, my lady deiires your company directly. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I am coming well, have you wrote it ? Give it roe. 
 P Charles ! either you do riot, or you will not under- 
 jftand me. (Exeunt fever ally.) 
 
 op THE FIRST ACT.
 
 i6 THE WEST INDIAN. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E L 
 
 A Room in FULMER'S Haufe. 
 F u L M E R and MRS. F u L M E R. 
 
 MRS. F U L M E R. 
 
 Why, hew you fu, mufmg and mopeing, ilghing and 
 defponding ! I'm afhamed of you, Mr. Fulmer: is this 
 the country you defcribed to me, a fecond E doradc , , ers 
 of gold and rocks of diamonds r You found me u, a 
 pretty fnug retir'd way of life at Cologne, ci.r ot the 
 noife and buiile of the world, and wnoMy at my e,-ie ; 
 you, indeed, was upon the wing, with a fiery peritx-u- 
 tion at your back : but, like a true fon of Loyola^ you 
 had then a thoufand ingenious devices to repair your 
 fortune; and this your native country wa.- to \- tne 
 fcene of your performances : fool that I was, to be in- 
 veigled into it by you : but, thank Heaven, our partner/hip 
 is revocable ; i am not your v/edcJed wife, praifeti .be my 
 itars ! for what have we got, whom have we guli'c hut 
 ourfelves ; which of all your trains has taken fire, ^verj 
 this poor expedient of your bookl',ller's (hop feems aban- 
 doned y for if a chance cuftomer drops in, who is there, 
 pray, to help him to what he wants! 1 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Patty, you know it is not upon flight grounds that I 
 defpair; there had us'd to be a livelihood to be pkkt up 
 in this country, both for the honcit and dii.}oneii ; I 
 have tried each walk, and am lu-eiy to ftarve a. laft : 
 there is not a point to which the wit and faculty of man 
 can tu r n, that I have not let mine to j but in vain, I an* 
 beat through every quarter cf the compafs. 
 
 MRS. F U L M E R. 
 
 Ah! common efforts all: ftrike me a matter- ftroke, 
 Mr. Fulmer, if you wifh to make any figure in this 
 Country. 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 But where, how, and what ? I have bluftered for pre- 
 rogative j I have bellowed for freedom ; i have offered 
 to ferve my country j I have engaged to betray itj
 
 A C O M E D Y. r? 
 
 & mafter-ftroke, truly ; why, I have talked treafon, writ 
 treafon, and if a man can't live by that he can live by 
 nothing. Here I fet up as a bookfeller ; why men left off' 
 reading ; and if I was to turn butcher, 1 believe o'my 
 oonfcience they'd leave off eating. 
 
 (CAPT. DUDLEY t'offcs the J1 age.) 
 
 MRS. F U L'M E R . 
 
 Why there now's your lodger, old Captain Dudley; as ' 
 he. calls himfelf ; there's no Hint without fire ; fometbjng 
 might be ftruck out of him, if you'd the wit to find the. 
 way. 
 
 F U L M E R . 
 
 Hang him, an old dry fkin'd 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 5 befides, he'a 
 poor, and therefore not for our purpofe. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 The more fool he ! Wou'd any man be poor that had 
 fuch a prodigy in .his ppflefiion I 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 His daughter, you mean j fhe is indeed uncommonly 
 beautiful. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Beautiful ! Why fte need only be feen to have the firft 
 men in the kingdom at her fceT. tgad, I with I had the 
 leafing of her beauty ; what wou'd fome of our young 
 Nabobs give ? 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 Hum ; here comes the captain ; good girl, leave us to 
 ourfelves, and let me try what I can make of him. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Captain, truly; i'faith I'd have a regiment, had I filch 
 a daughter, before I was three months older. [Exit* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 CAPT. DUDLEY enters to him* 
 
 FULMER. 
 Captain Dudley, good morning to you. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Mr. Fulmer, I have borrow'd a book from your fhop ; 
 'tis the fixth volume of my deceafed friend Triftram : he 
 D
 
 i8 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 is a flattering writer to us poor foldiers ; and the divine 
 ilory of Le Fevre, which makes part of this book, in my 
 opinion of it, does honour not to its author only, but to 
 human nature. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 He is an author I keep in the way of trade, but one I 
 never relifh'd : he is much too looie and profligate for my 
 tafle. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 That's being too fevere : i hold him to be a moralift in 
 the nobleft fenfe ; he plays indeed with the fancy, and 
 fometimes perhaps too wantonly ; but while he thus de- 
 fignedly mafks his main attack, he comes at once upon 
 the heart j refines, amends it, foftens it ; beats down each 
 felfifh barrier from about it, and opens every fluke of pity 
 and benevoience. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 We of the catholic perfuafion are not much bound to 
 
 him. Well, Sir, I fhall not oppofe your opinion ; 
 
 a favourite author is like a favourite rr.iftrefs i and there 
 you know. Captain, no man likes to have his tafte 
 arraigned. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Upon my word, Sir, I don't know what a man likes ia 
 that cafe ; 'tis an experiment I never made. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Sir ! Are you ferious ? 
 
 DUDLEY- 
 
 'Tis of little confequence whether you think fo. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 What a formal old prig it is ! (ajide.) I apprehend you, 
 Sir j you fpeak with caution ; you are married ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 I have been. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 And this young lady, which accompanies you 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Paffcs for my daughter. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 PafTes for his daughter ! humph (afde.) She is exceed- 
 ingly beautiful, finely accomplifh'd, of a moil enchanting 
 fhape and air.
 
 A COMEDY. <9 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 You are much too partial ; he has the greateft defe& a 
 woman can have. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 - How fo, pray ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 She has no fortune. 
 
 F U L M E R 
 
 Rather fay that you have none ; and that's a fere defect 
 In one of your years, Captain Dudley: you've ierv'd, no 
 doubt ? 
 
 D u D L E Y. 
 Familiar coxcomb ! But I'll humour him (ajide.) 
 
 F U L M E R 
 A clofe old fox ! But I'll unkennel him (afi-Je ) 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 Above thirty years I've been in the fervice, Mr. Fulmer. 
 
 F u L M E R. 
 
 I guefs'd as much; 1 laid it at no lefs; why 'tis a 
 weariibme time ; 'tis an apprenticelhip to a profeffion, fit 
 only for a patriarch. But preferment muit be clofely fol- 
 low'd : you never could have been fo far behind-hand in 
 the chjce, unlefs you had palpably miftaken your way. 
 You'll pardon me, but I begin to perceive you have lived 
 in the world, not with it. 
 
 DUDLEY- 
 
 It may be fo ; and you, perhaps, can give me better 
 council. I'm now foliciting a favour $ an exchange to a 
 company on full pay - 3 nothing more ; and yet I meet a 
 thoufand bars to that ; tho', without boalting, I fhouid 
 think the certificate of fervices, which i lent in, might 
 have purchafed that indulgence to me. 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 Who thinks or cares about 'em ? Certificate of fervices, 
 indeed ! Send in a certificate of your fair daughter i carry 
 her in your hand with you. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 What! Who! My daughter! Carry my daughter - } 
 Well, and what then ? 
 
 F U L M F R. 
 
 Why then your fortune's made, that's all, 
 
 D 2
 
 26 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 I underftand you: and this you call knowledge of the 
 .world ? Defpicable knowledge j but, iirrah, I will have 
 you know (threatening him.) 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Help ! Who's within ? Wou'd you ftrike me, Sir ; 
 wou'd you lift up your hand againrt a man in his own 
 houfe ? 
 
 D U D -L E Y. 
 
 In a church, if he dare infult the poverty of a man of 
 honour. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Have a care what you do ; remember there is fuch a 
 thing in law as an aflault and battery; ay, and fuch 
 trifling forms as warrants and indictments. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Go, Sir ; you are too mean for my refentment : 'tis 
 that, and not the law, protects you. Hence ! 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 An old, abfurd, incorrigible blockhead ! I'll, be re- 3 
 yeng'd of him (afide.) 
 
 SCENE III. 
 YOUNG DUDLEY enters to him, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 What is the matter, Sir ? Sure I heard^ an outcry as I 
 fcnter'd the houfe. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Not unlikely ; our landlord and his wife are for ever 
 Wrangling. Did you find your aunt Dudley at home ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 I did. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 And what was your reception ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Cold as our poverty, and her pride could make it. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 You told her the prefling occafion I had for a finall fup- 
 ply to equip me for this exchange - 3 has fhe granted m^ 
 the relief I afked ?
 
 A COMEDY. 34 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Alas ! Sir, file has peremptorily re'fufed it. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 That's hard ; that's hard, indeed ! My petition was for 
 a fmall fum; (he has refufed it, you fay : well, be it fo; 
 I muft not complain. Did you fee the broker about the 
 infurance on my life ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 There again I am the meflenger of ill news ; I can 
 raife no money, fo fatal is the climate : alas ! that ever 
 my father fhou'd be fent to perifh in fuch a place ! 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 Miss DUDLEY enters haflily. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 Louifa, what's the matter ? you feem frighted. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I am, indeed : coming from Mifs Rufport's, I met a 
 young gentleman in the ftrects, who has befet me in the 
 itrangeit manner. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Infufferable ! Was he rude to you ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I cannot fay he was abfolutely rude to me, but he was 
 very importunate to fpeak to me, and once or twice at- 
 tempted to lift up my hat : he followed me to the corner 
 of the ftreet, and there I gave him the flip. 
 
 D u D L E Y. 
 
 You muft walk no more in the ftreets, child, without 
 me, or your brother. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 O Charles ! Mifs Rufport defires to fee you directly; 
 Lady Rufport is gone out, and fhe has fomething parti- 
 cular to fay to you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Have you any commands for me, Sir? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 None, my dear j by all means wait upon Mifs Rufport. 
 Come, Loqifa, I fhall defire you to go up to your cham- 
 ber, and compofe yourfelf. [Exeunt,
 
 22 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 '*W-- 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 B L c o u R enters, after peeping in at the door* 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Not a foul, as I'm alive. Why, what an odd fort of a 
 houfe this is ! Confound the little jilt, (he has fairlv given 
 me tlv- flip. A plague upon this London, J fhall have no luck 
 in it : luch a crowd, and fuch a hurry, and fuch a number 
 of (hops, and one fo like the other, that whether the wench 
 turn'd into this houfe or the next, o*- whether (he went up 
 flairs or down ftairs, (for there's a world above and a world 
 below, it feems) 1 declare, I know no more than if 1 was 
 in the Blue Mountains. !n the name of ail the devils at 
 once, why did fhe run aw.iy ? if every handiome girl I 
 meet in this town is to lead me fuch a wild-goofe chace, I 
 had better have ftay'd in the torrid zone : I fhall be wafted 
 to the fize of a fugar-cane: what fhall I do? give the 
 chace up ? hang it that's cowardly : fhall I, a true born 
 fon of Phoebus, fuffer this little nimble-footed Daphne to 
 
 efcape me? ' Forbid it honour, and forbid it love." 
 
 Hufh ! hu(h I here fhe comes ! Oh ! the devil ! What 
 tawdry thing have we got here ? 
 
 Mas. FULMER enters to him, 
 
 MRS. FULMER, 
 
 Your humble fervant, Sir, 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Your humble fervant, Madam. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 A fine fummer's day, Sir. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Ye?, Ma'am, and fo cool, that if the calendar didn't 
 call it July, 1 fhou'd fwear it was January, 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 Sir! 
 
 B E L C O U R, 
 
 Madam ! 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Do you wifh to fpeak to Mr. Fulmer, Sirf
 
 A COMEDY. aj 
 
 B E L C OUR. 
 
 Mr. Fulmer, Madam ? 1 hav'nt the honour of knowing 
 fuch a perfon. 
 
 MRS FULMER. 
 
 No, I'll be fworn, have you not ; thou art much too 
 pretty a fellow, and too much of a gentleman, to be an 
 author thyfelf, or to have any thing to fay to thofe that 
 are fo. ' 1'is the Captain, I fuppofe, you are waiting for. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 1 rather fufpecl it is the Captain's wife. 
 
 MRS- FULMER. 
 
 The Captain has no wife, Sir. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 No wife ? I'm heartily forry for it ; for then fae's his 
 miftrels ; and that 1 take to be the more defperate cafe of 
 the two : pray, Madam, wasn't there a lady juft now 
 turn'd into your houfe ? 'Twas with her I wiih'd to fpeak. 
 
 MRS- FULMER. 
 What fort of a lady, pray f 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 One of the Jovelieft fort my eyes ever beheld ; young, 
 tall, frefh, fair ; in fliort, a goddefs. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Nay, but dear, dear Sir, now I'm fure you flatter ; for 
 'twas me you followed into the fhop-door this minute. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 You ! No, no, take my word for it, it was not you, 
 Madam. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 But what is it you laugh at ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Upon my foul, T afk your pardon j but it was not you, 
 believe me j be aflur'd it wasn't. 
 
 M RS. FULMER. 
 
 Well, Sir, I fhall not contend for the honour of being 
 notic'd by you ; I hope you think you woudn't have been 
 the firft man that notic'd me in the ftreets ; however, this 
 I'm pofitive of, that no living woman but myfelf has enter'd 
 thefc doors this morning.
 
 *l THE WEST I N D I A ft J 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Why then I'm miftaken in the houfe, that's all ; for 'tis 
 not humanly poflible I can be fo far out in the lady, (going) 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Coxcomb ! But hold a thought occurs ; as fure as can 
 be he has feen Mifs Dudley. A word with you, young 
 gentleman j come back. 
 
 BE L c OUR. 
 Well, what's your pleafure ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 You feem greatly captivated with this young lady j are 
 you apt to fall in Jove thus at firfl fight ? 
 
 BE LC OUR. 
 
 Oh, yes : 'tis the only way I can ever fall in love ; any 
 man may tumble into a pit by furprize, none but a fool 
 would walk into one by choice. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 You are a hafty lover it feems ; have you fpirit to be a 
 generous one ? They that will pleafe the eye muftn't fpare 
 the purfe. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Try me; put me to the proof; bring me to an interview 
 with the dear girl that has thus captivated me, and fee 
 whether I have fpirit to be grateful. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Bujt how, pray, am I to know the girl you have fet your 
 heart on ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 By an undefcribable grace, that accompanies every lopk 
 and action that falls from her : there can be but one fuch 
 woman in the world, and nobody can miftake that one. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Well, if I (hould ftumble upon this angel in my walks, 
 where am I to find you ? What's your name ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Upon my foul, I can't tell you my name, 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Not tell me! Why fo? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Becaufe I don't know what it is myfelf j as yet I have 
 no name.
 
 A COMEDY, 25 
 
 MRS. F u L M E R. 
 No name ! 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 None; a friend, indeed, lent me his j but he forbad 
 me to ufe it on any unworthy occaikm. 
 
 MRS, FULMER. 
 
 But where is your place of abode ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 I have none j I never flept a night in England in my life. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Hey-dey! 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 r u L M E R enters, 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 A fine cafe, truly, in a free country ; a pretty pafs 
 things are come to, if a man is to be aflaulted in his own 
 houfe. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 Who has aflaulted you, my dear ? 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 Who ! why this Captain Drawcanfir, this old Dudley, 
 my lodger j but I'll unlodge him - 3 I'll unharbour him, I 
 warrant. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Hum ! hufh ! Hold your tongue man ; pocket the af- 
 front, and be quiet; I've a fcheme on foot will pay you 
 a hundred beatings. Why you furprize me, Mr. Fulmer - y 
 Captain Dudley aflault you ! Impoffible. 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 Nay, I can't call it an abfolute afiault ; but he threatened 
 me. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Oh, was that all ? I thought how it would turn out a 
 likely thring, truly, for a perfon of his obliging compaf- 
 fionate turn : no, no, poor Captain Dudley, he has for- 
 rows and diftrefies enough of his own to employ his fpirits, 
 without fetting them againft other people. Malce it up as 
 faft as you can : watch this gentleman out ; follow him 
 wherever he goes ; and bring me word who and what he 
 E
 
 2i THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 is ; be fure you don't lofe fight of him ; I've other bufinefe 
 in hand. [Exit. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Pray, Sir, xvhat forrows and diftrdTes have befallen thia 
 old gentleman you fpeaic of ? 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Poverty, difappointmem, and all the diftreftes attendant 
 thereupon: forrow enough of all confcicnce : I foon found 
 how i; was with him bylhis way of living, lovr enough af 
 all reafon ; but what I overheard {hi$ morning put it out 
 of all doubt. 
 
 B E I C O U R. 
 
 What did you overhear this morning ? 
 F u L M E R . 
 
 Why, it feems he wanjts to join his regiment, and has 
 been beating the town over to ra^fe a little money for that 
 pur^ofe upon his pav ; but the climate, I find, where he 
 is going is fo unhealthy, that nobody can be found to lend 
 him any. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Why then your town is a damn'd goad-for-notKrng 
 town j and I wiih I had never came hito it. 
 
 F U L MER. 
 
 That's what I fay, Sir ; the bard-heartednefs of fome 
 folks is unaccountable. There's an old Lady Rufport, a 
 near relation of this gentleman 's ; {he lives hard by here, 
 oppofrte to StockwelFs, the great merchant ; he fern to her 
 a Begging, but to no purpofe ; though (he is as rich as a 
 Jew, (he would not furnifh him with a farthing. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Is the Captain at home ? 
 
 F U L M E R. . . 
 
 He is up flairs, Sir. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Will you take the trouble to defire him to ftep hither ? 
 I want to fpeak to him. 
 
 F u L M E R. 
 
 I'll fend him to you c ire&ly. I don't know what to make 
 f this young man ; but, if I live, i will find him out, or 
 know the reaion why. [Exit*
 
 A COMEDY. > 7 
 
 B E LCO U R. 
 
 I've loft the girl it feems j that's clear : (he was the firft 
 object of my purfuit ; but the cafe of this poor officer 
 touches me ; and, after all, there iray be as much trtre 
 'delight in refcuing a fellow creature from diftrels, as there 
 
 would be in puttiftg one into it Hot let me fee; its a 
 
 point that muft be managed with fome delicacy Apropos ! 
 there's pen and ink-r*i've ftruck upon a method that will 
 do (writt$*) Ay, ay this is the very thing ; '<\vas dfevtlifti 
 lucky I happen'd to have thefe tills about me. There, 
 there, fare you well ; I'm glad to be rid of you ; you flood 
 a chance of being worfp applied, I can tell you. (end-jfes 
 andfeals the paper.) 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 F L lit fc R brings in D U O t E Y. 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 That's- the gentleman, Sir. I (hall make bold, howWer, 
 to lend an ear. 
 
 D U D L E Y, 
 Have you any commands for me, Sir? 
 
 B ELCO U R. 
 Your name is Dudley, Sir ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 It is. 
 
 B LC O U R. 
 
 You command a company, I think, Captain Dudley ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 I did ; I am now upon half- pay. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 You've ferved fome time r 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 A pretty many years ; long enough to fee fome people 
 of more merit, and better intereft than niylclf, made ge- 
 jieral officers. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Their merit I may have fome doubt of; rfieif iAtereft I 
 can readily give credit to; there is little promotion to he 
 Jook'd for in your profeffion, i bdicve, without frknds 5
 
 fc8 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 I believe fo too : have you any other bufmefs with me, 
 may I afk ? 
 
 BE LCOUR. 
 
 Your patience for a moment. I was informed you was 
 about to join your regiment in diftant quarters abroad. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 I have been foliciting an exchange to a company OH 
 full-pay, quarter'd at James's Fort, in Senegambia j but, 
 I'm afraid, I muft drop the undertaking. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 Why fo, pray ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Why fo, Sir ? 'Tis a home queftion for a perfect ftranger 
 to put j there is fomething very particular in all this. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 If it is not impertinent, Sir, allow me to afk you what 
 reafon you have for defpairing of fuccefs. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Why really, Sir, mine is an obvious reafon for a foldier 
 to have Want of money ; Amply that. 
 
 B E L co u R. 
 May I beg to know the fum you have occafion for ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Truly, Sir, I cannot exactly tell you on a fudden ; nor 
 is it, I fuppofe, of any great confequence to you to be in- 
 formed ; but 1 (hould guefs, in the grofs, that two hundred 
 pounds would ferve. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 And do you find a difficulty in raifing that fum upon 
 your pay ? 'Tis done every day. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 The nature of the climate makes it difficult : I can get 
 no one to infure my life. 
 
 BE LC O U R. 
 
 Oh ! that's a circumftance may make for you, as well as 
 againft : in fhort, Captain Dudley, it fo happens, that I 
 can command the fum of two hundred pounds : feek nQ 
 farther j I'll accomodate you with it upon eafy terms.
 
 A G O M E D Y. 29 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Sir ! do I understand you rightly ? I beg your pardon ; 
 4iut am I to believe that you are in earneft ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 What is your furprize ? Is it an uncommon thing for a 
 gentleman to fpeak truth? or is it incredible that one 
 fellow creature fhould affift another ? 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 I afk your pardon May I beg to know to whom ? 
 
 Do you propofe this in the way of bufinefs ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Entirely : I have no other bufinefs on earth. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Indeed ! you are not a broker, I'm perfuaded. 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 I am not. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Nor an army agent I think ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 I hope you will not think the worfe of me for being nei- 
 ther ; in fliort, Sir, if you will perufe this paper, it will 
 explain to you who I am, and upon what terms I a&; 
 while you read it, I will ftep home, and fetch the money; 
 and we will conclude the bargain without lofs of time. In 
 the mean while, good day to you. [ Exit bo/lily. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Humph ! there's fomething very odd in all this let me 
 
 fee what we've got here This paper is to tell me who 
 
 he is, and what are his terms : in the name of wonder, 
 why has he fealed it ! Hey-dey ! what's here ? Two Bank- 
 notes, of a hundred each ! I can't comprehend what this 
 means. Hold ; here's a writing ; perhaps that will (how 
 me. " Accept this trifle ; purfue your fortune, and profper," 
 Am I in a dream ? Is this a reality ? 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 Enter MAJOR O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 MAJOR. 
 
 Save you, my dear! Is it you now that are Captain 
 Pudley, I would afk ? Whuh ! What's the hurry the
 
 3 o THE XTr v S T INDIAN: 
 
 man's in ? If 'tis the 1, d that run out of the fhop you 
 wou'd overtake, you rrri ;i h as well ftay where you are ; by 
 iny foul he";, as nm blr a-s a Croat, you are a full hour's 
 march in his rear Ay, faith, you may as well turn bacfc, 
 and give over the purfuit j well, Captain Dudley, if 
 that's your name, there's a letter for you. Read, man, 
 read it ; and I'll have a word with you, after you've 
 done. 
 
 D u p x. E Y. 
 
 More miracles on foot ? So, fo, from Lady Rufport. 
 ' o'FLAriSRTY. 
 
 You're right, it is from 1 h2r ladyfliip. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Well, Sir, I have caft my eye over it ; 'tis fhort and 
 peremptory j are you acquainted with the contents ? 
 
 o'FLAHERfY. 
 
 Not at all, my dear, not at all. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 Have you any meffage from. Lady Rufpott ? 
 
 o'FlAfi^RTY. 
 
 Not a fyllable, honey ; only when you've digefled the 
 letter, I've a little bit of a me'fT^ge to deliver you from my- 
 felf. 
 
 D tt D L E Y. 
 And may I beg to know who yourfelf is ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Dennis O'Flaherty, at your fervice ; a poof major of 
 grenadiers, nothing better. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 So much for your name and title, Sir ; now be fo good 
 to favour me with your meffage. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Why, then, Captain, I muft tell you I have promifed 
 Lady Rufport you fhall do whatever it is Ihe bids you to 
 do in that letter there. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Ay, indeed ; have you undertaken fo much, Major, 
 without knowing either what fhe commands, or what I 
 can perform ?
 
 A COMEDY. 3 r 
 
 O* F L AH E R T Y. 
 
 That's your concern, my dear, not mine j I mufl: keep 
 
 my word., you know. 
 
 D u p i. E y. 
 .Or elfe, I fuppofe, y.oiu gj>4 J rou^ meafure fwords. 
 
 O ' F L AH E R T Y. 
 Upon rpy foul, you've hit it. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 That wou'd hardly airfwer to either of us ; you .and I 
 have, probably, had enough of fighting in our time before 
 now. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Faith and troth, Matter Dudley, .you may fay that; 
 'tis ihjrty vear.s, come the time, that 1 have follow'd the 
 trade, a ^" in a pretty ; many countries. -Let me fee In 
 the war befpre laft I ferv'd in the Irifc Brigade, d'ye fee ; 
 there, after bringing off the French monarch, I left his 
 fervice, with a Brrti{h. bullet in my body, and this ribband 
 in my button-hde. La'ft war I fo : llow'd the fortunes of 
 theOerman eagle, in the corps of grenadiers ; there I had 
 my beJly-FnJ 1 ! p? fighting, and a pi -ntifu! fcarcity of every 
 thing elfe. After fix arid twenty engagements, great and 
 fmall, I went off .jyith this gafti on my fcull, and a kifs 
 of the Em prefs Queen's fweet hand, (Hraven blefs it!) 
 for mj, pains. Si>;ce the peace, mj de,ar, I jte.ok; a little 
 turn with the Confederates there in Poland but fuch 
 another fet of madcaps ! by the lord Harry, I never 
 knew what it was they wej.e fcufBing about. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Well, Major, I won't a-id another action to th.e lift, 
 you ftall keep your pro.-nife with Laxly Ru/port ; fhe re- 
 quires me to leave London , I fhall go in a few days, and 
 you may take what credit you pkafe from my compliance. 
 O'FLAHE-RTY. ^ 
 
 G'ive me your han^, my dear boy F this will make her 
 my own j when that's the cafe, we (hall be brothers, you 
 know, and we'll (hare her fortune between us. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Not fo, Major ; the man who marries Lady Rufport 
 wiJl have a fair title to her whole fortune without divifiou.
 
 32 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 But, I hope, your expectations of prevailing are founded 
 upon good reafons. 
 
 O'F L A H E R TY. , 
 
 Upon the beft grounds in the world j firft I think (he wilt 
 comply, bccauffe (he is a woman ; fecondly, 1 am per- 
 fuaded fhe won't hold out long, becaufe (he's a widow j 
 and thirdly, I make fure of her, becaufe I've married five 
 wives, and never failed yet ; and, for what I know, they're 
 all alive and merry at this very hour. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Well, Sir, go on and profper ; if you can infpire Lady 
 
 Rufport with half your charity, I fhall think you deferve 
 
 all her fortune ; at prefent, I rnuft beg your excufe : good 
 
 morning to you. [Exit. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 A good fenfible man, and very much of a foldier j I did 
 rot care if I was better acquainted with him : but 'tis an 
 awkward kind of a country for that ; the Englifli, I ob- 
 ferve, are clofe friends, but diftant acquaintance. I fufpedt 
 the old lady has not been over-generous to poor Dudley ; 
 I (hall give her a little touch about that : upon my foul I 
 know but one excufe a perfon can have for giving nothing, 
 and that is, like myfelf, having nothing to give. [#/'/. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 Scene changes to LADY RUSPORT'S boufe, 
 
 A drejjing-room, 
 Miss RUSPORT and LUCY. 
 
 
 CHAR LOTTED 
 
 Well, Lucy, you've diflodged the old lady at laft j but 
 Hiethought you was a tedious time about it. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 A tedious time, indeed ; I think they who have leaft to 
 fpare, contrive to throw the moft away ; I thought I 
 hou'd never have got her out of the houfe. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Why, {he's as deliberate in canvafling every article of 
 her drefs, as an ambafTador wou'd be in fettling the pre- 
 liminaries of a treaty.
 
 A COMEDY. 33 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 There was a new hood and handkerchief, that had come 
 exprefs from Holborn-Hiil on the occafLn, that took as 
 much time in adjusting- 
 
 CHARLOTTE. ' 
 
 As they did in making; and fhe was as vain of them, 
 as an old maid of a young lover. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Or a young lover of hirnfelf. Then, Madam, this being 
 a vifit of great ceremony to a perfon of dilHnction, at the 
 Weft end of the town, the old (late chariot was dragg'd 
 forth on the occafion, with ftrift charges to dr. eft out ths 
 box with the leopard-fkin hammer-cloth. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Yes, and to hang the falfe tails on the miferable flumps 
 of the old crawling cattle. Weil, well, pray Heaven the 
 crazy affair don't break down again with her ! at leaft till 
 
 (he gets to her journey's end. Buc where's Charles 
 
 Dudley ? Run down, dear girl, and be ready to let him in j 
 I think he's as long in coming, as fhe "Was in going. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Why, indeed, Madam, you feem the more alert of the 
 two, Tmuft fay. [Exit. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Now the deuce take the girl for putting that notion into 
 my head: I'm fadly afraid Dudley do^s not like me; fo 
 much encouragement as I have given him to declare him- 
 felf, I never cou'd get a word from him on the fubjecr ! 
 This may be very honourable, but upon my life it's very 
 provoking. By the way, I wonder how I look to-day : 
 Oh ! fhockingly ! hideoufly pale ! like a witch ! This is 
 the old lady's gl'sk, and (he has left fome of her wrinkles 
 on it. How frightfully have I put on my cap ! all awry ' 
 and my hair dreis'd fo unbecomingly ! Altogether I'm a 
 inoft complete fright.
 
 .34 THE W S T I N D I A N t 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 (CHARLES DUDLEY comes in unebferved.) 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 That I deny. 
 
 C H AR L OT TE. 
 
 Ah! 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Quarrelling with your ghfs, coufin ? Make it up; make 
 it up, and be friends ; it cannot compliment you more, 
 than by reflecting you, as you are. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Well, I vow, my dear Charles, that is delightfully fatd, 
 and deferves my very beft curtefy : your flattery, like a 
 rich jewel, has a value not only from its fuperior luftre, 
 but from its extraordinary fcarcenefs : I verily think this is 
 the only civil fpeech you ever directed to my peribn in your 
 life. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 And I ought to afk pardon of your good fenfe, for hav- 
 ing done it now. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Nay, now you relapfe again : don't you know if you 
 keep well with a woman on the great fcore of beauty, flie'll 
 never quarrel with you on the trifling article of good fenfe? 
 But any thing ferves to fill up a dull yawning hour with an 
 infipid coufin ; you have brighter moments, and warmer 
 fpirits, for the dear girl of your heart. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Oh ! fie upon you, fie upon you. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 You blufh, and the reafon is apparent, you are a novic 
 at hypocrify ; but no practice can make a vifit of ceremony 
 pafs for a vifit of choice : love is ever before its time, 
 itiencifhip is apt to lag a little after it : pray, Charles, did 
 you make any extraordinary hafte hithtr? 
 CHARLES. 
 
 By your queftion, I fee you acquit me of the imperti- 
 nence of being in love. 

 
 A COMEDY. 35 
 
 CHAR LOTTE. 
 
 But why impertinence? Why the impertinence of being 
 in love ? You have one language for me, Charles, and 
 another for the woman of your affection. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You are miftaken ; the woman of my affe&ion (hall 
 never hear any other language from me, than what I ufe 
 to you. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I am afraid, then, you'll never make yourfelf underftood 
 by her, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 It is not fit I fhou'd ; there is no need of love to make 
 me miferablej 'tis wretchednefs enough to be a beggar. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 A beggar, do you call yourfelf ! O Charles, Charles, 
 rich in every merit and accompliihment, whom may you 
 not afpire to? And why think you fo unworthily of our 
 lex, as to conclude there is not one to be found with fenfe 
 to difcern your virtue, and generofity to reward it ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You diftrefs me, I muft beg to hear no more. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Well, lean be fiient. Thus does he always ferve me, 
 
 whenever I am about to difclofe myfelf to him. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Why do you not banifh me and my misfortunes for 
 ever from your thoughts ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Ay, wherefore do I not ? fince you never allowed me 
 a place in yours : but go, Sir, I have no right to ftay you ; 
 go where your heart directs you j go to the happy, the 
 diftinguiftied fair one. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Now, by all that's good, you do me wrong : there is no 
 fuch fair one for me to go to, nor have I an acquaintance 
 amongft the fex, yourfelf excepted, which anfwers to that 
 defcription. 
 
 CHARLOT TE, 
 
 Indeed ! 
 
 F 3
 
 $6 THK WEST INDIAN: 
 
 C H A R L E S. 
 
 In very truth : there then let us drop the fubjedl. May 
 you be happy, though I never can ! 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 O Charles! give me your hand; if I have offended 
 \oxi, 1 afk you pardon : you have been long acquainted with 
 my temper, and know how to bear with its infirmities. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Thus, my dear Charlotte, let us feal our reconciliation 
 fk'jfing bcr band). Bear with thy infirmities ! By Heaven, 
 1 know not any one failing in thy whole compofition, 
 except. that of too great a partiality for an undeferving 
 man. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 And you are now taking the very courfe to augment that 
 failing. A thought flrikes me : i have a commiflion that 
 you muft abfolutely execute for me; 1 have immediate 
 occafjon for the fum of two hundred pounds ; you know 
 my fortune is (hut. up ti!! I am of age ; take this paltry box, 
 (it contains my ear-rings, and fome other baubles 1 have 
 no ufe for) carry it to our oppofite neighbour, Mr. Stock- 
 well, (I don't know where elfe to apply) leave it as a 
 depolit in his hands, and beg him to accommodate me with 
 the fum. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, what are you about to do ? How caa 
 you poiiibly want two hundred pounds ? 
 
 CHARLO TTE. 
 
 ' How can I ppfiibly do without it, you mean ? Doesn't 
 every lady want two hundred pounds ? Perhaps I have loft 
 it at p'ay ; perhaps I mean to win as much to it ; perhaps 
 I want it for two hundred different ufes. 
 
 C H A R L E S. 
 
 Pooh \ pooh ! all this is nothing ; don't I know you 
 never play r 
 
 CH ARLOTTE. 
 
 You miftake ; I have a fpirit to'fet not only this trifle f 
 but my whole fortune, upon a ftake ; therefore make no 
 wry faces, but do as I bid you : you will find Mr. Stock- 
 Weil a very honourable gentleman.
 
 A C O M D Y. 37 
 
 LUCY enters in bajie. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Dear madam, as I live, here comes the old lady in a 
 fcackney-coach, 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 The old chariot has given her a fecond tumble : away 
 with you ; you know your way out without meeting her : 
 take the box, and do as I defire you. 
 CHARLES. 
 I muft not difpute your orders. Farewell ! 
 
 Exeunt CHARLES and CHARLOTTE. 
 
 SCENE XL 
 
 LADY RUSPORT enters^ leaning on MAJOR Q'FLA- 
 ' arm. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Reft yourfelf upon my arm j never fpare it; 'tis ftrong 
 enough : it has flood harder fervice than you can put it to. 
 
 L u^c Y. 
 
 Mercy upon me, what is the matter ; I am frighten'd 
 out of my wits : has your ladyfhip had an accident ? 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 O Lucy! the m oft untoward one in nature; I know 
 not how I fhall repair it. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Never go about to repair it, my lady; ev'n build a new 
 one j 'twas but a crazy piece of bufmefs at belt. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Blefs me, is the old chariot broke down with you again ? 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Broke, child ? I don't know what might have been 
 broke, if, by great good fortune, this obliging gentleman 
 had not been at hand to aflift me. 
 
 -LUCY. 
 
 Dear Madam, let me run and fetch you a cup of the 
 cordial drops.
 
 3 S THE W E S T I N D I A N: 
 
 LADY RUSPORT^ 
 
 Do, Lucy. Alas! Sir, ever fince I loft my hufband, 
 my poor nerves have been fhook to pieces : there hangs 
 his beloved picture j that precious relick, and a plentiful 
 jointure, is all that remains to confole me for the beft of 
 men. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Let me fee ; i'faith a comely perfonage : by his fur 
 cloak I fuppofe he was in the Ruffian fervice ; and by the 
 gold chain round his neck, 1 flaould guefs he had been 
 honoured with the order of St. Catharine. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT 
 
 No, no ; he meddled with no St. Catharines : that's 
 the habit he wore in his mayoralty ; Sir Siephen was 
 Lord-Mayor of London : but he is gone, and has left me 
 a poor, weak, folitary widow behind him, 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 By all means, then, take a ftrong, able, hearty man 
 to repair his Ipfs : if fuch a plain fellow as one Dennis 
 O'Flaherty can pleafe you, I think I may venture to fay, 
 without any difparagement to the gentleman in the fur- 
 gown there 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 What are you going to fay f Don't ihock my ears with 
 any companions, I defire. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Not I, by my foul j I don't believe there's any com- 
 parifon in the cafe. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Oh, are you come ? Give me the drops j I'm al] in a 
 flutter. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Hark'e, fweetheart, what are thofe fame drops ? Have 
 you any more left in the bottle ? I didn't care if I took a 
 little fip of them myfelf. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Oh ! Sir, they are called the cordial reftorative elixir, 
 or the nervous golden drops j they are only for ladies 
 
 cafes.
 
 A COMEDY. & 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Yes, yes, my dear, there are gentlemen as well as ladies 
 that ftand in need of thofe fame golden drops j they'd fuit 
 my cafe to a tittle. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Well, Major, did you give old Dudtey my letter, and 
 will the iilly man do as I bid him, and be gone ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 You are obey'd ; he's on his march. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 That's well ; you have manag'd this matter to per- 
 fection ; I didn't think he wou'd have been fo eafily pre- 
 vail'd upon. 
 
 O'FLAHE'RTY. 
 
 At the firft word ; no difficulty in life ; 'twas the very 
 thing he was determined to do, before I came j I never 
 met a more obliging gentleman. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Well, 'tis no matter ; fo I am but rid of him, and his 
 diftrefles : wou'd you believe it, Major O'Flaherty, it was 
 but this morning he fent a begging to me for money to fit 
 him out upon fome wild-goofe expedition to ths coaft of 
 Africa, I know not where. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 Well, you fent him what he wanted ? 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 I fent him, what he deferved, a flat refufal. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 You refufed him ! 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Moft undoubtedly. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 You fent him nothing ! 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Not a (hilling. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 Good morning to you Your fervant (going )
 
 40 THE WEST INDIA tf: 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Heyday ! What ails the man ? Where are you going ? 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Out of your houfe, before the roof falls on my head 
 to poor Dudley, to ftiare the little modicum that thirty- 
 years hard fervice has left me ; I wifh it was more for his 
 lake. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Very well, Sir; take your courfe ; I (han't attempt to 
 flop you ; I fhall furvive it j it will not break my heart if 
 I never fee you more. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY-. 
 
 Break your heart ! No, o'my confcience will it not. 
 You preach, and you pray, and you turn up your eyes, 
 and all the while you're as hard hearted as a hyena 
 A hyena, truly ! By my foul there isn't in the whole 
 creation fo favage an animal as a human creature without 
 pity. [Exiti 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 A hyena, truly ! Where did the fellow blunder upon 
 that word ? Now the deuce take him for ufing it,- and th 
 Macaronies for inventing it. 
 
 END or THE SECOND ACT.
 
 A COMEDY. 4* 
 
 ACT III. S C N E I. 
 
 (d room in STOCKWELL'S bt>uf$.) 
 
 STOCKWELL and BELCOUR. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 , Gratify me fo far, however, Mr. Belcour, as to fee 
 Mifs Rufport ; carry her the fum (he wants, and return 
 the poor girl her box of diamonds, which Dudley left in 
 my hands j you know what to fay on the occafion better 
 than I d:> j that part of your commifiion I leave to your 
 own difcretiorij and you may feafon it with what galantry 
 you think fit. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 You cou'd not have pitch'd upon a greater bungler at 
 galantry than myfelf, if you had rummag'd every company 
 in the city, and the whole court of aldermen into the 
 bargain: part of your errand, however, I will do; but 
 whether it fliall be with an ill grace, or a good one, 
 depends upon the caprice of a moment, the humour of 
 the lady, the mode of our meeting, and a thoufand unde- 
 finable frnall circumftances that neverthelefs determine us 
 upon all the great occafions of life. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I perfuade myfelf you will find Mifs Rufport an inge- 
 nuous, worthy, animated girl. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Why I like her the better, as a woman ; but name her 
 not to me, as a wife ! No, if ever i marry, it muft be a 
 ftaid, fober, confiderate damfel, with blood in her veins 
 as cold as a turtle's; quick of fc.nt as a vultur when 
 danger's in the wind, wary and {harp-fighter! as a hawk 
 when treachery is on foot : with fuch a companion at my 
 elbow, for ever whifpering in my ear have a care of this" 
 man, he's a cheat ; don't go near that woman, flic's a j|!t ; 
 over head there s a fcaffoid, under foot there's a well ; 
 Oh ! Sir, fuch a woman might lead me up and down this 
 great city without difficulty or danger; but with a girl of 
 Mifs Ruiport's completion, heaven and earth! Sir, we 
 ftiou'd be dup'd, undone, and diftra&ed, in a fortnight. 
 G
 
 42 THE \V E S T INDIAN: 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! Why you are become wondrous circum- 
 fpect of a fudden, pupil ; and if you can find fuch a 
 prudent damfel as you defcribe, you have my confent 
 only beware how you chufc ; difcretion is not the reigning 
 quality amongir, the fine ladies of the prefent time ; and 
 1 think in Mifs Rufport's particular I have given you no 
 bad counfel. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Well, well, if you'll fetch me the jewels, I believe I 
 can undertake to carry them to her ; but as for the money, 
 I'll have nothing to do with that ; Dudley would be your 
 fitteft ambaffador on that occafion ; and, if I miftake not, 
 the moft agreeable to the lady. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Why, indeed, from what I know of the matter, it may 
 not improbably be deftined to find its way into his 
 pockets. [Exit* 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Then depend upon it thefe are not the only trinkets 
 file means to dedicate to Captain Dudley. As for me, 
 Stoc'< well indeed wants me to marry ; but till I can get 
 this bewitching g'rl, this incognita, out of my head, I 
 can never think of any other woman. 
 
 (SERV A NT enters, and delivers a letter}. 
 
 Heyday ! Where can I have pick'd up a correfpondent 
 already? 'Tis a moft execrable manufcript Let me fee 
 Martha Fulmer Who is Marth'a Fulmer ? Pfhaw ! I 
 won't be at the trouble of deciphering her damn'd pot- 
 hooks. Hold, hold, hold ; What have we got here ? 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I've difcover'd the lady you was fo 
 " much fmitten with, and can procure you an interview 
 ct with her ; if you can be as generous to a pretty girl as 
 you was to a paltry old captain," (How did (he find that 
 out ?) " you need not riefpair : come to me immed-'ately ; 
 4< the lady is now in my houfe, and experts you. 
 " Yours, 
 
 " MARTHA FULMER."
 
 A C O M E D Y. 43 
 
 O them dear, lovely, and enchanting paper, which I 
 was ab' ut to tear into a thoufand fcraps, devoutly 1 entreat 
 thy pardon: I have flighted thy concents, which are de- 
 licious; flander'd thy characters, which are divine; and 
 all the atcncmcnt I can make is implicitly to obey thy 
 mandates. 
 
 STOCKWELL returns. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Mr. Belcour, here are the jewels; this letter enclnfes 
 bills for the money ; and, if you will deliver it to Mils 
 Rufport, you'll have no farther, trouble on that {core. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Ah, Sir ! the letter which I've been reading difqualifics 
 me for delivering the letter which you have been writing : 
 I have other game on foot ; the lovtlieft girl my eyes ever 
 feafted upon is ftarted in view, and the world cannot now 
 divert me from purfuing her. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Hey-dey ' What has turned you thus on a hidden ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 A woman : one that c^n turn, and overturn me and my 
 tottering refolutions every way fhe will. Oh, Sir, if this 
 is folly in me, you mu(t rail at Nature : you muft chide 
 the fun, that was vertical at my birth, and would nut wink 
 upon my nakcdn-fs, but fwaddled me in the broaJeft, hotteit 
 glare of his meridian bearm. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Mere rhapfody ; mere child, fh ihapfudy; the libertine's 
 
 familiar plea Nature made us, 'tis true, but we ate the 
 
 jefponfible creators of oar own faults and follies. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Sir! 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Slave of every face you meet, fonie huffey has inveigled 
 you, fome handfome profligate, (the town is full of them ;) 
 md, when once fairly bankrupt in conftitutioH, as well as 
 fortune^ nature no longer fervcs as your excufe for being vi- 
 cious, neccffity, perhaps, will ftaud jour riiend, and )ou'il 
 reform, 
 
 Ga
 
 44 THE WEST INDIAN; 
 
 B L L C O U R. 
 
 You are fevere. 
 
 STOfKWEIL. 
 
 It fi:s me to he fo it well becomes a father I would 
 fay a friend How ftrangely 1 forget n.yfelf -How difficult 
 it is to counterfeit indifference, anJ put a mafk upon the 
 heart I've (truck him hard ; he reddens. 
 
 B E L C O U R, 
 
 How could you tempt me fo ? Had you not inadver- 
 tently dropped the name of father, I fear our friendship, 
 fhoit as it has been, would fcarce have held me But even 
 your miftake I reverence Give me your hand 'tis over. 
 
 ST.OCK.WEL L. 
 
 Generous young man let me embrace you How 
 
 (hall I hide my tears ? I have been to blame; becau r e I bore 
 you the afFeHon of a father, I rafhly took up the authority 
 of one. I afk your pardon purfue your cour^Qj I have 
 
 no right to flop it What would you have me do with 
 
 thefe things ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 This, if I might advife ; carry the money to Mifs Ruf- 
 port immediately ; never let generofity wait for it's mate- 
 rials; that part cf the bufmefs prefies. Give me the jewels j 
 I'll find an opportunity of delivering them into her hands; 
 and your vifit may pave the way for my reception. [Exit. 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 Be it fo : good morning to you. Farewel advice .' Away 
 goes he upon the wing for pleafure. What various pzf~ 
 ftpns he awakens in me ! He pains, yet pleafes me ; af- 
 frights, offend.-, yet grows upon my heart. His very fail- 
 ings fct him. off for ever trefpafling, for ever atoning, J 
 almoft think he would not be fo perfect, were he free from 
 fault: I nr:ft ciiflemble longer ; and yet how painful the 
 experiment ! Even now he's gone upon fome wild adven- 
 ture j and who can tell what mifchief may befal him ! O 
 Nature, what.it is to be a father ! Juft fuch a thoughtlcfs 
 headlong thing was I, when I beguiled his mother into 
 Jove. [*//. 

 
 A COMEDY. ^ 
 
 SCENE II. 
 Scene changes to F y L M E R ' s Houfe. 
 
 F u L M E R and his WIFE. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 I tell you, Patty, you arc a fool to think of bringing 
 him and Mifs Dudley together; 'twill ruin every thing, 
 and blow your whole fcheme up to the moon at once. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Why, fure, Mr. Fuloier, 1 may be allowed to rear a 
 phicken of my own hatching, as they fay. Who firft fprung 
 the thought but I, pray? Who contrived the plot $ Who 
 propofed the letter, but I, I ? 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 And who dogg'd the gentleman home? Who found out 
 his name, fortune, connection, that he was a Weft-Indian, 
 frelh landed, and full of cafla ; a gull to our heart's con- 
 tent ; a hot-brain ? d headlong fpark, that would run into our 
 trap, like a wheat-ear under a turf? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Hark ! he's come : difappear, march ; and leave the 
 ejd open to my machinations. [Exit FULMER. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 B L c o u R enters to her. 
 
 5 E L CO U R. 
 
 O, thou dear minifter to my happinefs, let me embrace 
 thee ! Why thou art my polar ftar, my propitious con- 
 ^iellatiOn, by which I navigate my impatient bark into the 
 port of pleafure and delight. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Oh, you men are fly creatures ! Do you remember now, 
 you cruel, what you faid to me this morning ? 
 
 B E L C ou R. 
 
 All a ]eft, a frolick; never think on't; bury It for ever 
 in oblivion ; thou I why thou art all over ne&ar and am- 
 brofia, powder of pearl and odour of rofesj thou haft the
 
 4 6 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 youth of Hebe, the beauty of Venus, and the pen of 
 Sappho j but in the name of all that's lovely, where's the 
 lady ? 1 expected to find her with you. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 No doubt you did, and thefe raptures were defigned for 
 her, but where have you loitered ? the lady's gone, you 
 are too late ; girls of her fort are net to be kept waiting 
 like negro flaves in your fugar plantations. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Gone ; whither is flie gone ? tell me that I may fol- 
 low her. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Hold, hold, not fo faft young gentleman, this is a cafe 
 of fome delicacy ; fiiou'd Ciptain Dudley know that I 
 introduced you to his daughter, he is a man of fuch 
 fcrupulous honour 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 What do you tell me ! is (he daughter to the old gen- 
 tleman I met here this morning ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 The fame j him you was fo generous to. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 There's an end of the matter then at once ; it fhall 
 never be faid of me, that I took advantage of the father's 
 necefii ties to trepan the daughter (going), 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 So, fo, I've made a wrong caft, he's one of your con- 
 fcientious fmners 1 find, but 1 won't lofe him thus- 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 E E L C O U R. 
 
 What is it you laugh at ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Your abfolute inexperience : have you lived fo very 
 little time in this country, as not to know that between 
 young people of equal ages, the term of fitter often is a 
 cover for that of miftreis ? This young lady is, in that 
 fenfe of the word, fifter to young Dudley, and confe- 
 c^uently daughter to my old lodger. 
 
 B E L C O U R 
 
 Indeed ! are you fcrious I
 
 A C O M E D V. 47 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Can you doubt it ? I muft have been pretty well aflur'd 
 of that before I invited you hither. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 That's true ; fhe cannot be a woman of honour, and 
 Dudley is an unconfcionable young rogue to think of 
 keeping one fine girl in pay, by raifing contributions on 
 another ; he fhall therefore give her up ; fhe is a dear, 
 bewitching, mifchievous, little devil j and he (hall poli- 
 tively give her up. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Ay, now the freak has taken you again ; I fay give her 
 up ; there's one way, indeed, and certain of fuccefs. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 What's that ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Out-bid him, never dream of out-bluftring him ; buy 
 eut his leafe of pofleffion, and leave her to manage his 
 ejedtment. 
 
 B E L C O u R. 
 
 Is fhe fo venal ? Never fear me then ; when beauty is 
 the purchafe, I fhan't think much of the price, 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 All things, then, will be made eafy enough ; let me 
 fee; fome little genteel prefent to begin with: what 
 have you got about you ? Ay, fearch j 1 can beftow it to 
 advantage, there's no time to be loft. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Haag it, confound it ; a plague upon't, fay I ! I hav'n't 
 a guinea left in my pocket ; I parted from my whole ftock 
 here this morning, and have forgot to fupply myfelf flnce. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Mighty well ; let it pafs then j there's an end ; think 
 no more of the lady, that's all. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Diftra&ion ! think no more of her ? let me on'y ftep 
 tome and provide myfelf, I'll be back with you 'in ar'
 
 4* THE WEST INDIAN: > 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Pooh, pooh ! that's a wretched fhift : have you nothing 
 of value about you ? money's a coarfe fiovenly vehicle, fit 
 only to bribe electors in a borough ; there are more grace- 
 ful ways of purchafing a lady's favours j rings, trinkets, 
 jewels ! 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Jewels ! Gadfo, I proteft 1 had forgot : I have a cafe of 
 jewels ; but they won't do, 1 muft not part from them ; 
 no, no, they are appropriated ; they are none of my own* 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Let me fee, let me fee ! Ay, now, this were fomethihg- 
 like : pretty creatures, how they fparkle i thefe wou'd 
 cnfure fuccefs. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Indeed I 
 
 MRS. F U L M E R. 
 
 Thefe wou'd make her your own for ever. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Then the deuce take 'em for belonging to another per- 
 fon ; I cou'd find in my heart to give 'em the girl, and 
 fwcar I've loft them. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Ay, do, fay they were flolen out of your pocket. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 No, hang it, that's diftionourable j here, give me the 
 paltry things, I'll write you an order on my merchant for 
 double their value. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 An order ! No$ order for me no orders upon merchants, 
 with their value received, and three days grace ; their 
 noting, protefting, and endorfing, and all their counting- 
 houfe formalities j I'll have nothing to do with them; 
 leave your diamonds with me, and give your order for the 
 value of them to the owner : the money would be as good 
 as the trinkets, I warrant you. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Key ! how ! I never thought of that ; but a breach of 
 trufl ; 'tis impoffible ; I never can confent, therefore, give 
 me the jewels back again.
 
 A COMEDY. 49 
 
 MRS* FULMER. 
 
 Take 'em j I am now to tell you the lady is in flits 
 Houfe. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 In this houfe ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Yes, Sir, in this very houfe ; but what of that? yoii 
 have got what you like better ; your toys, your trinkets, 
 go, go: Oh! you're a man of a notable fpirit, are you 
 not? 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Provoking creature ! Bring me to the fight of the dear 
 girl, and difpofe of me as you think fit. 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 And of the diamonds too? - .% : 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 _ Damn 'em, I wou'd there was not fuch a bauble in 
 nature ! But come, come, difpatchj if I had the throne 
 of Dehli I fhould give it to her. 
 
 . MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Swear to me then that you will keep within bounds, 
 remember (he pafles for the fitter of young Dudley. Oh ! 
 if you come to your flights, and your rhapfodies, {he'll be 
 off in an inftant. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Never fear me. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 You muft expe& to hear her talk of her father, as {he. 
 calls him, and her brother, and your bounty to her 
 family. 
 
 B E L c o UR. 
 Ay, ay, never mind what fhe talks of, only bring her. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 You'll 'be prepar'd upon that head. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 I fhall be prepar'd, never fear ; away with you. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 But hold, I had forgot : not a word of the dkmonds ; 
 leave that matter to my management. 
 H
 
 5 o THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 B EL C O UR. 
 
 Hell and vexation ! Get out of the room, or I (hall run 
 diftrafted. [Exit Mrs. Fulmer.] Of a certain, Belcour, 
 thou art born to be the fool of woman : fure no man fins 
 with fo much repentance, or repents with fo little amend- 
 ment, as I do. I cannot give away another perfon's pro- 
 perty, ho'nour forbids me ; and I pofitively cannot give up 
 the girl ; love, paffion, conftitution, every thing protefts 
 againft that. How {hall i decide ? I cannot bring myfelf 
 to break a truft, and I am not at prefent in the humour to 
 baulk my inclinations. Is there no middle way ? Let me 
 coniider There is, there is : my good genius has pre- 
 fented me with one j apt, obvious, honourable : the girl 
 fhall not go without her baubles, I'll not go without the 
 girl, Mifs Rufport fhan't lofe her diamonds, I'll fave 
 Dudley from deftruciion, and every party (hall be a gainer 
 by the project. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 MRS. FULMAR introducing Mrss DUDLEY. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Mifs Dudley, this is the worthy gentleman you wifli 
 to fee ; this is Mr. Belcour. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 As I live, the very man that beiet me i-n the ftreets. 
 
 (afidt.) 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 'An angel, by this light! Oh lam gone paft all re- 
 trieving ! (afide.) 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Mrs. Fulmer, Sir, informs me you are the gentleman 
 from whom my father has received i'uch civilities. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Oh ! never name 'em. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 Pardon me, Mr. Belcour, they mud be both named 
 
 and remember'd j and if my father was here- 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 I am much better pleafed with his reprcfentative.
 
 
 COMEDY. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 That title is my brother's, Sir ; I have no claim to it. 
 
 BE L C O UR. 
 
 I believe it. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 But as neither he nor my father were fortunate enough 
 to be at home, I cou'd not reftft the opportunity- 
 
 BE LCOUR. 
 
 Nor I neither, by my foul, Madam : Jet us improve it, 
 therefore. I am in love with you to diftraftion ; I was 
 charmed at the firft glance; I attempted to accoft you ; 
 you fled ; I follow'd ; but was defeated of an interview ; 
 at length I have obtain'd one, and feize the opportunity 
 of catting my perfon and my fortune at your feet. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 You aftonifh me ! Are you in your fenfes, or do you 
 make a jeft of my misfortunes ? Do you ground pretences 
 on your generofity, or do you make a practice of this folly 
 with every woman you meet ? 
 
 BE LCOUR. 
 
 Upon my life, no : As you are the handfomeft woman 
 I ever met, fo you are the firft to whom I ever made the 
 like profeflions : as for my generofity, Madam, 1 muft re- 
 fer you on that fcore to this good lady, who I believe has 
 fomething to offer in my behalf. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Don't build upon that, Sir; I muft have better proofs 
 of your generofity, than the mere diveftment of a little 
 fuperfluous drofs, before I can- credit the fincerity of pro- 
 feflions fo abruptly deliver'd. [Exit ha/iily, 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Oh ! ye Gods and Goddefles, how her anger animates 
 her beauty ! [Going out. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Stay, Sir ; if you ftir a ftep after her, I renounce your 
 intereft for ever : why you'll ruin every thing. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Well, I muft have her, coft what it will : I fee flie 
 underftands her own value tho' ; a little fuperfluous drofs, 
 truly ! She muft have better proofs of my generofity, 
 H 2
 
 J4 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 MRS. F U L M E R. 
 
 'Tis exactly as I told you ; your money (he calls drofs 5 
 fhe's too proud to ftain her ringers with your coin ; bait 
 your hook well with jewels 5 try that experiment, and fhe's 
 your own. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Take 'em j let 'em go ; lay 'em at her feet ; I muft get 
 out of the fcrape as 1 can ; my propenfity is irrefiftible : 
 there ! you have 'em ; they are yours ; they are her's ; but 
 remember they are a truft; 1 commit them to her keeping 
 till I can buy 'em off" with Something file (hall think more 
 valuable j now tell me when {hall I meet her ? 
 
 MRS. F U L M E R. 
 
 How can I tell that ? Don't you fee what an alarm you 
 have put her into ? Oh ! you are a rare one ! But go your 
 ways for this while ; leave her to my management, and 
 come to me at feven this evening; but remember not to 
 
 jpring empty pockets with you Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 [Exeunt feveralfy* 
 
 SCENE V, 
 
 LADY Ru SPORT'S Hot>fe. 
 
 Miss RUSPORT enters, followed ly afervant. t 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Pefire Mr. Stockwell to walk in, [Exit Servant^ 
 
 .STOCK w ELL enter s t 
 
 S T O C W E L L. 
 
 Madam, your mcft obedient fervant : I am honoured 
 with your ' cbmmar.ds, * by Captain Dudley; and have 
 'brought the money with me as you directed : I underftand 
 the fum you have occauon for is two hundred pounds. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 It is, Sir; I am quite confounded at your taking this 
 trouble upon yourfelf, Mr. Stockwell. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 There is a Bank-note, Madam, to the amount : your 
 jewels- are in fafe hands, and will be delivered to you di-
 
 A G O M E D Y. 53 
 
 re&ly. If I had been happy in being better known to you, 
 I fhould have hoped you would not have thought it neceilary 
 to place a depolh in my hands for fo trifling a fum as you 
 have now required me to fupply you with. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 The bawbles 1 fent you may very well be fpared ; and, 
 as they are the only fecurity, in my prefent fhuation, I can, 
 give you, 1 could wifh you would retain them in your 
 hands : when I am of age, (which, if I iive a few months, 
 I (hall be) I will replace vour favour, with thanks. 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 It is obvious, Mifs Rufpoit, that your charms will fuffcr 
 no impeachment by the abfence of theie fuperficial orna- 
 ments j but they ftiould be feen in the fuite of a woman of 
 fafhion, not as creditors to whom you are indebted for your 
 appearance, but as fubfervient attendants, which heip to 
 make up your equipage. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Mr. Stockwell is determined not to wrong the con- 
 fidence I repofed in his politcnefs. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I have only to requeft, Madam, that you will allow Mr. 
 Belcour, a young gentleman, in whofe happinefs I parti- 
 cularly intereft myielf, to have the honour of delivering 
 you the box of jewels. 
 
 C H A R L OTT E. 
 
 ' Moft gladly ; any friend of yours cannot fail of being 
 welcome here, 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I flatter myfelf you will not find him totally undeferving 
 your good opinion; an education, not of the ftrideft kind, 
 and ftrong animal fpirits, are apt fometimes to betray him, 
 into youthful irregularities ; but an high principle of ho- 
 nour, and an uncommon benevolence, in the eye of candor, 
 will, I hope, atone for any faults, by which thefe good 
 qualities are not impaired. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I dare fay Mr. Belcour's behaviour wants no apology : 
 we've no right to be over flridt in canvaffing the morals of 
 a common acquaintance. 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 I wifti it may be my happinefs to fee Mr, Belcour in thcf
 
 54 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 lift, not of your common, but particular acquaintance, of 
 your friends, Mifs Rufport I dare not be more explicit. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Nor need you, Mr. Stockwell : I {hall be ftudious to 
 deferve his friendihip ; and, though I have long fince un- 
 alterably placed my affections on another, I truft, 1 have 
 not left myfelf infenfible to the merits of Mr. Belcour ; 
 and hope that neither you nor he will, for that reafon, 
 think me lefs worthy your good opinion and regards, 
 s T o c K w E L L. 
 
 Mifs Rufport, I iincerely wifh you happy : I have no 
 <Joubt you have placed your affection on a deferving man ; 
 and I have no right to combat your choice. [Exii. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 How honourable is that behaviour ! Now, if Charles 
 was here, I (hould be happv. T u ; ^>!J 1 y is fo fond of 
 her new Irifh acquaintance, that I have the whole houfe at 
 my dif>.o!aJ. [Exit CHARLOTTE, 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 BELCOUR enters^ preceded by a Servant, 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 I afk your honour's pardon ; I thought my young lady 
 Vas here ; who (hall I inform her wou'd fpeak to her ? 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Bekour is my name, Sir; and pray beg your lady to put 
 kerfelf in no hurry on my account ; for I'd fooner fee the 
 devil than fee her face [E#it Servant.) In the name of all 
 that's mifchievous, why did 'Stockwell drive me hither in 
 fuch hafte ? A pretty figure, truly, I {hall make : an am- < 
 baffaxlor without ciedentials. Blockhead that I was to 
 charge myfelf with her diamonds ; officious, meddling 
 puppy ! Now they are irretrievably gone : that fufpicious 
 jade Fulmer wcudn't part even with a fight of them, tho' I 
 would have ranfcm'd 'em at twice their value. Now mufl 
 I truft to my poor wits to bring me off: a lamentable de- 
 pendance. Fortune be my helper ! Here comes the girl 
 If {he is noble minded, as fhe is laid to be, {he will forgive 
 me ; if not, 'tis a loft caufe j for I have not thought of o#c 
 word in my excufe.
 
 A COMEDY. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 CHARL OTTE enters . 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Mr. Belcour, I'm proud to fee you : your friend, Mr. 
 Stockwell, prepared me to expedt this honour ; and I am 
 happy in the opportunity of being known to you. 
 
 E E L C O U R. 
 
 A fine girl, by my foul ! Now what a curfed hang-dog 
 do I look like! {afide.) 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 You are newly arrived in this country, Sir ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Juft landed, Madam ; juft fet a-fhore, with a large cargo 
 of Mufcovado fugats, rum-puncheons, mahogany- flabs* 
 wet fweet- meats, and green paroquets. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 May I afk you how you like London, Sir ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 To admiration : I think the town and the townVfclk 
 are exa&Iy fuited ; 'tis a great, rich, overg:own, noify, 
 tumultuous place : the whole morning is a buftle to get 
 money, and the whole afternoon is a hurry to fpend it. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Are thefe all the obfervations you have made ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 No, Madam ; I have obferved the women are very cap- 
 tivating, and the men very foon caught. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 ^Ay a indeed ! Whence do you draw that conclufion ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 From infallible guides ; the fir ft remark I col'ecl: from 
 what I now fee, the fecond from what I now feel. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Oh, the deuce take you ! but to wave this fubject ; I 
 believe, Sir, this was a vifit of bufmefs, not compliment j, 
 was it not ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Ay j now comes on my execution*
 
 (+' T H E W E S T I N D I A N: 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 You have fome foolifh trinkets of mine, Mr. Belcour $ 
 havn'c you ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 No, in truth ; they are gone in fearch of a trinket, ftill 
 more foolifh than themfelves (afide) 
 
 CHARLOT TE. 
 
 Some diamonds I mean, Sir j Mr. Stockwell inform'd 
 me you was charged with 'em. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Oh, yes, Madam; but I have the moft treacherous me- 
 mory in life Here they are ! Pray put them up ; they're 
 all right 3 you need not examine 'em (gives a box.} 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Hey-dey ! right, Sir ! Why thefe are not my diamonds ; 
 thefe are quite different; and, as it ftiould feem, of much 
 greater value. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Upon my .life I'm glad on't; for then I hope you value 
 'em more than your own. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 As a pijrchafer I fhould, but not as an owner j you mi- 
 ftake, thefe belong to fomebody elfe. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 *Tis yours, I'm afraid, that belong to fomebody elfe. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 What is it yon mean ? I muft infilt upon your taking 
 'e<n back again. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Pray, madam, don't do that; I (hall infallibly lofe them; 
 I have the worft luck with diamonds of any man living. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 That you might well fay, was you to give me thefe in 
 the place of mine ; but pray, Sir, what is the reafon of all 
 this? Why have you changed the jewels? and where have 
 you difpofed of mine ? 
 
 B E L CO U R. 
 
 Mifs Rufport, I cannot invent a lie for my life ; and, if 
 it was to fave it, I coudn't tell one : I am an idle, dif- 
 fipated, unthinking fellow, not worth your notice : in 
 ftiort, I am a Weft-Indian and you mutt try me accord-
 
 COMEDY. 
 
 ment will be too fevere. When I parted from the jewels, 
 I had not the honour of knowing their owner. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Mr. Belcour, your fmcerity charms me, I enter at once 
 into your character, and I make all the allowances for ic 
 you can defire. 1 take your jewels for the prefent, be- 
 caufe I know there is no other way of reconciling yoti 
 to yourfelf ; but If I give way to your fpirit in one point, 
 you muft yield to mine in another ; remember I will not 
 keep more than the value of my own jewels : there is no 
 need to be pillaged by more than one woman at a time, 
 Sir. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Now may every blefling that can crown your virtues, 
 and reward your beauty, be fhower'd upon you ; may you. 
 meet admiration without envy, love without jealoufy : 
 and old age without malady ! may the man of your heart 
 be ever conflant, and you never meet a lefs penitent, or 
 Jefs grateful offender than myfelf. 
 
 (Servant enters and delivers a letter,) 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Does your letter require fuch hafte ? 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 I was bade to give it into your own hands, ma^am. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 From Charles Dudley, I fee have I your permifiion ? 
 Good Heaven, what do 1 read ! Mr. Belcour you are 
 
 concern'd in this " Dear Charlotte; in the rr.idft 
 
 of our'diftrefs, Providence has caft a benefactor in our 
 way, after the mod unexpected manner : a young Weft 
 Indian, rich, and with a warmth of heart peculiar to 
 his climate, has refcued my father from his troubles, 
 fatisfied his wants, and enabled him to accomplish his 
 exchange : when 1 relate to you the manner in which 
 
 " this
 
 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 this was done, you will be charm'd ; I can only now 
 add, t^hat it was by chance we found out that his 
 name is Belcour, and that he is a friend of Mr. Stock- 
 well's. I lofe not a moment's time in making you ac- 
 quainted with this fortunate event for reafons which 
 delicacy obliges me to fupprefs j but, perhaps, if you 
 have not received the money on your jewels, you will 
 not think it neceflary now to do it. I have the honour 
 to be, 
 
 " Dear Madam, 
 
 " moft faithfully yours, 
 
 " CHARLES DUDLEY/' 
 
 Is this your doing, Sir ? Never was generofity fo 
 worthily exerted. 
 
 E E L C O U R. 
 
 Or fo greatly overpaid. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 After what you have now done for this noble, but in- 
 digent, family, let me not fcruple to unfold the whole 
 fituation of my heart to you. Know then, Sir, (and don't 
 think the worfe of me for the franknefs of my declaration) 
 that fuch is my attachment to the fon of that worthy 
 officer whom you relieved, that the moment I am of age, 
 and in pofTeffion of my fortune, Lihou'd hold myfclf the 
 happieft of women to fliare it with young Dudley. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Say you fo, madam ! then let me perifh if I don't love 
 and reverence you above all woman kind ; and if fuch is 
 your generous refolution, never wait till you're of age ; 
 life is too fhort, pleafure too fugitive ; the foul grows 
 narrower every hour ; I'll equip you for your efcape ; I'll 
 convoy you to the man of your heart, and away with you 
 then to the firft hofpitable parfon, that will take you in. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 O bleffed b the torrid zone for ever, whofe rapid ve- 
 getation quickens nature into fuch benignity ! Thefe lati- 
 tudes are made for politics and philofophy ; friendfhip has 
 no root in this foil. But had ! fpirit to accept your offer, 
 which is not improbable, wou'dn't it be a mortifying 
 thing, for a fond girl to find herfelf miflaken, and lent 
 back to her home, like a vagrant j and fuch, for what I 
 know, might be nty cafe.
 
 A COMEDY. 59 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Then he ought to be profcribed the fociety of mankind 
 
 for ever Ay, ay, 'tis the (ham fifter makes him thus 
 
 indifferent ; 'twill be a meritorious office to take that girl 
 pMt of the way. 
 
 (Servant enters) 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 Mifs Dudley to wait on you, madam. 
 
 B E L C O U R, 
 
 Who? 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 Mifs Dudley. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 What's the matter, Mr. Belcour ? are you frighted at 
 the name of a pretty girl ? 'tis the fifter of him we were 
 fpeaking of pray admit her. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 The fifter ! So, fo ; he has impofed upon her too 
 this is an extraordinary vifit truly. Upon my foul the 
 aflurance of fome folks is not to be accounted for. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I infift upon your not running away j you'll be charm'd 
 with Louifa Dudley. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Oh, yes, I am charm'd with her. 
 
 CHARLOTTE, 
 You've feen her then j have you ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Yes, yes, I've feen her. 
 
 CHARLOTTE.^ 
 Well, isn't foe a delightful girl ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Very delightful. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Why, you anfwer as if you was in a court of juftice; 
 0'my confcience ! I believe you are caught j I've a 
 notion Ihe has trick'd you out of your heart.
 
 6(3 THE WEST INDIAN. 
 
 E E L C O U R. 
 
 I believe fhe has, and you out of your jewels ; for t 
 tell you the truth, flic's the very perfoh I gave 'em to. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 You gave her my jewels ! Louifa Dudley my jewels? 
 admirable; inimitable! oh, the fly little jack ! but hum, 
 here (he comes i I don't know how 1 fhail keep my 
 countenance. 
 
 (LOUISA enters.) 
 
 My dear, I'm rejoiced to fee you ; how d'ye do ? I beg 
 leaue to introduce Mr. Belcour, a very worthy friend of 
 mine; I believe, Louifa, you have feen him before. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I have met the gentleman. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 You have met the gentleman ; well, Sir, and you have 
 met the lady; in fhort, you have met each other; why 
 then don't you fpeak to each other ? How you both ftand ! 
 tongue-tied, and fix'd as ftatues Ha, ha, ha ! Why 
 you'll fall a-ileep by-and-by. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Fye upon you j fye upon you ; is this fair I 
 
 E E L CO UR. 
 
 Upon my foul I never look'd fo like a fool in my life 5 
 the affurance of that girl puts me quite down (afide). 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Sir Mr. Belcour Was it your pleafure to advance any 
 thing? Not a fyllable. Come^ Louifa, womens wit, they 
 fay, is never at a lofs Nor you neither? Speechlefs 
 both Why you was merry enough before this lady camQ 
 in. . ; 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I am forry I have been any interruption to your happi^ 
 nefs, Sir. . 
 
 B E L C Q U R. 
 
 Madam. 
 
 CHARLOTTE: 
 
 Madam ! Is that all you can fay ? but come, my dear 
 girl, I won't teaze you: apropos ! I mud {hew you what 
 a fine prefent this dumb gentleman has made me - 3 are not; 
 theie handfome diamonds ?
 
 A C O M E D Y. 61 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Yes, indeed, they feem very fine; but I am nojucjge of 
 ihefe things. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Oh, you wicked little hypocrite, you are no judge of 
 thefe things, Louifa j you have no diamonds, not you. 
 LOUISA. 
 
 You know I havn't, Mifs Rufport : you know thofc 
 things are infinitely above my reach. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 'Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 p E L C O U R. 
 
 She does tell a He with an admirable countenance, that's 
 true enough. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 What ails you, Charlotte ? What impertinence have I 
 been guilty of that you ihould find it necefiary te humble 
 me at fuch a rate ? if you are happy, long may you be fo ; 
 but, furely, it can be no addition to it to make me mi 
 ferable. ' 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 So ferious ! there muft be fome myftery in this Mr. 
 Belcour will you leave us together ? You fee I treat you 
 with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance already. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Oh, by all means ; pray command me. Mifs Rufporf, 
 I'm your moft obedient ! By your condefcenfion in accept- 
 ing thofe poor trifles, I am under eternal obligations to 
 you-r-To you, Mifs Dudley, I (hall not offer a word" on 
 that fubjed : you defpife finery ; you have a foul above it ; 
 1 adore your fpirit ; I was rather unprepared for meeting 
 you here ; but I {hall hope for an opportunity of making 
 jnyfelf better known to you. /?*// 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 CHARLOTTE and LOUISA. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Louifa Dudley, you furprize me; I never faw you a& thus? 
 before : can't you bear a little innocent raillery before the 
 
 ir.an of your heart ? :
 
 fe .THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 The man of my heart, Madam ? Be afiured I never was 
 fo vifionary to afpire to any man whom Mifs Rufport ho- 
 nours with her choice. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 My choice, my dear ! Why we are playing at crofs pur- 
 pofes : how enter'd it into your head that Mr. Belcour was 
 the man of my choice ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 Why didn't he prefentyou with thofe diamonds ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Well ; perhaps he did and pray, Louifa, have you no 
 diamonds ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I diamonds truly ! Who fhould give me diamonds ? 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Who, but this vei^ gentleman : Apropos! here comes 
 your brother 
 
 SCENE X, 
 
 (CHARLES enters.) 
 
 I infift upon referring our difpute to him : your fifter and 
 I, Charles, have a quarrel; Belcoiir, the hero of your 
 letter, has juft left us fome how or other, Louifa's bright 
 eyes have caught him; and the poor fellow's fallen defpe- 
 rately in love with her (don't interrupt me, hufley;- 
 Well, that's excufable enough, you'll fay ; but the jet of 
 the ftory is, that this hair-brain'd fpark, who does nothing 
 like other people, has given her the very identical jewels, 
 which you pledged for me to Mr. Scockwell; and will you 
 believe that this little demure flut made up a face, and 
 fqueezed out three or four hypocritical tears, becaufe I raU 
 lied her about it 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I'm all aftouifhment ! Louifa, tell me without referve^ 
 has Mr. Belcour given you any diamonds? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 None, upon my honour. ; 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Has he made any profefiions to you I
 
 A COMEDY; 63 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 He has, but altogether in a ftile fo whimfical and 
 capricious, that the beft which can be faid of them is to 
 tell you that they feem'd more the refult of good fpirits 
 than good manners. 
 
 CHARLOT T E. 
 
 Ay, ay, now the murder's out ; he's in love with her, 
 and ftie has no very great diflike to him ; truft to my 
 observation, Charles, for that : as to the diamonds, there's 
 lome miftake about them, and you muft clear it up : 
 three minutes converfation with him will put every thing 
 in a right train j go, go, Charles, 'tis a brother's bufmefs ; 
 about it inftantly; ten to one you'll fi:>d him over the way 
 at Mr. Stockwell's. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I confefs I'm impatient to have the cafe clearM up ; 
 I'll take your advice, and find him out : good bye to 
 
 you. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Your fervant ; {ny life upon it you'll find Belcour a 
 man of honour. Come, Louifa, Jet us adjourn to my 
 drefling-room ; I've a little private bufmefs to tranfacl with 
 you, before the old lady comes up to tea, and interrupts 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT.
 
 6* THE WEST INDIAN: 
 A C T IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 (F U L M E R.V koufe.) 
 
 F u L w E R and MRS. F u L M E R. 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Patty, wasn't Mr. Belcour with you ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 He was, and is now ihut up in my chamber, in high 
 expectation of an interview with Mils Dudley; flic's at 
 prefent with her brother, and 'twas with fome difficulty 
 i perfuaded my hot-headed fpark to wait 'till he has left 
 her. 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 Well, child, and what then ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Why then, Mr. Fulmer, I think it will be time for you 
 and me to fteal a march, and be gone. 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 So this is all the fruit of your ingenious project ; 
 a fhameful overthrow, or a fudden flight. 
 
 MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Why, my projecl was a mere impromptu, and can at 
 worft but quicken our departure a few days ; you know 
 we had fairly outliv'd our credit here, and a trip to 
 Boulogne is no ways unfeafonable. Nay, never dioop, 
 man Hark ! hark ! heie's enough to bear charges, (foevuing 
 a purfc.) 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Let me fee, let me fee : this weighs well ; this is of 
 the right fort : why your Well-Indian bled freely. 
 
 M R S. F U L M E R. 
 
 But that's not all : look here ! Here are the fparklers ! 
 (flawing the jewels) Now what d'ye 'think of my per- 
 formances ? Hch! a fooiiili icheine, isu'c it? a iilly 
 woman > ?
 
 A COMEDY. 6$ 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Thou art a Judith, a Joan of Arc, and I'll march under 
 thy banners, girl, to the world's end : Come, let's be- 
 gone ; I've little to regret ; . my creditors may (hare the old 
 books amongft them, they'll have occafion for philofophy 
 to fupport their lofs ; they'll find enough upon my {helves : 
 The world is my library ; I read mankind -Now, Patty, 
 lead the way. 
 
 Nf RS. FULMER. 
 
 Adieu, Belcour! [ExeunX 
 
 SCENE II. 
 CHARLES DUDLEY and LOUISA. 
 
 CHARLES.' 
 
 Well, Louifa, T co.nfefs the force of what you fay: 
 I accept Mifs Rufport's bounty, and when you fee. my 
 
 generous Charlotte, tell her but have a care, there is 
 
 a felfifhnefs even in gratitude, when it is too profufe j to 
 be over thankful for any one favour, is in effect to lay oujt 
 for another ; the beft return I cou'd make my benefa&refs 
 wou'd be never to fee her more. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 I underfhnd you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 We, that are poor, Louifa, fhou'd be cautious ; for 
 this reafon I wou'd guard you againft Belcour ; at leaft till 
 I can unravel the myftery of Mifs Rufport's diamonds ; I 
 was difappointed of finding him at Mr. Stockwell's, and 
 am now going in fearch of him again : he may intend 
 honourably, but 1 confefs to you I am ftagger'd ; think 
 ho more of him, therefore, for the prefent : of this be 
 fure, while I have life, and you have honour, I will pro- 
 tect you, or penfh in your defence. [Exit. 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Think of him no more ! Well, I'll obey ; but if a 
 wand'ring uninvited thought fhould creep by chance into 
 my bofom, muft I not give the harmlefs wretch a fheher ? 
 Oh ! yes ; the great artificer of the human heart knows 
 every thread he wove into its fabric, nor puts his work to 
 Harder uTes than it was made to bear : my wifttes then, 
 H
 
 66 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 my guiltlefs ones I mean, are free ; How faft they fpring 
 within me at ihat fentence ! Down, down, ye bufy crea- 
 tures ! W hither wou'd you carry me ? Ah ! there is one 
 amongft you, a forward, new intruder, that in the like- 
 nefs of an offending, generous man, grows into favour 
 with my heart. Fye, fye upon it ! Belcour purfues, infults- 
 me ; yet fuch is the fatality of my condition, tnat what 
 fhou'd roufe refentment, only calls up love. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 (BELCOUR enters to her.) 
 
 B E t C a 17 R. 
 
 Aloney by all that's happy ! 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Ah! 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Oh ! fliriek not, ftart not, ftir not, lovelieft creature ! 
 but let me kneel, and gaze upon your beauties. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 Sir, Mr. Belcour, fife ! What is it you do ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 See, I obey you ; mould me as you will, behold your 
 ready fervant ! New to your country, ignorant of your 
 manners, habits, and defires, I put myfelf into your hands 
 for inftrution ; make me only fueh as you can like your- 
 ielf, and I ihall be happy. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I muft not hear this, Mr. Belcour ; go ; fliould he, 
 that parted from me but this minute, now return, I trem- 
 ble for the cortfequence. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Fear nothing ; let him come : I 1 ove yen, 
 he'll find it hard to make me unfay that. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 You terrify me } your impetuous temper frightens me; 
 you know my fituation ; it is not generotis to purfue me 
 (bus*
 
 A COMEDY. 67 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 True ; I do know your fituation, your real one, Mifs 
 Dudley, and am refolv'd to fnatch you from it ; 'twill be 
 a meritorious act j the old Captain (hall rejoice; Mifs 
 Jlufport (hall be made happy ; and even he, even your 
 beloved brother, with whole refentment you threaten me, 
 fhall in the end applaud and thank me : Come, thou'rt a 
 dear enchanting girl, and Frn determin'd not to live a 
 minute longer without thee. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Hold, are you mad ? I fee you are a bold, affuming 
 man, and know not where to flop. 
 
 B E L C ,O U R. 
 
 Who that beholds fuch beauty can ? By Heaven, you 
 put my blood into a flame. Provoking girl ! is it within 
 the ftretch of my fortune to content you ? What is it you 
 can further a& that I am not ready to grant ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Yes, with the fame facility that you beftow'd upon me 
 Mifs Rufport's diamonds. For fhame ! for fhame ! was 
 that a manly ftory ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 So ! fo ! thefe devilifli diamonds meet me every where- 
 Let me perifh if I meant you any harm : Oh ! I cou'd 
 tear my tongue out for faying a word about the matter. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Go to her then, and contradict it ; till that is done, 
 my reputation is at ftake. 
 
 B E L C O U R, 
 
 Her reputation ! Now fhe has got upon that, fhe'll go 
 on for ever. What is there I will not do for your fake ? 
 I will go to Mifs Rufport. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Do fo ; reftore her own jewels to her, which I fuppofe 
 you kept back for the purpofe of prefenting others to her 
 of a greater value ; but for the future, Mr. Be'cout, 
 when you wou'd do a galant action to that lady, don't let 
 it be at my expence. 
 
 K 2
 
 (5$ THE WEST INDfAN: 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 I fee where (he points : (he is willing enough to give; 
 up Mifs Rufport's diamonds, now flie finds fhe {hall be 
 a gainer by the exchange. Be it fo ! 'tis what I wifh'd. 
 Well, Madam, I will return Mils Rufport her own jewels, 
 and you (hall have others of tenfold their value. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 No, Sir, you err mdft widely; it is my good opinion, 
 not my vanity, which you muft bribe. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Why, what the devil wou'd (he have now ? Mifs 
 Dudley, it is my wifli to obey and pleafe you, but I have, 
 ,fome apprehenfion that we miftake each other. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I think we do : tell me, then, in few words, what it 
 is you aim at. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 In few words, then, and in plain honefty, I muft tell 
 you, fo entirely am I captivaied with you, that had you 
 but been fuch as it wou'd have become me to have call'd 
 my wife, I had been happy in knowing you by that name ; 
 is it is, you are welcome to partake my fortune, give me 
 in return your perfon, give me pleafure, give me love } 
 free, difencumber'd, antimatrimoriial love. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Stand off, and let me never fee you more. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Hold, hold, thou dear, tormenting, tantalizing girl ! 
 Upon my knees I fvyear you (fcali not (lir till you've con- 
 fen ted to my bl'ifs. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Unhand me, Sir : O Charles ! proteyl me, refcue me, 
 redrefsrhe. [Exit, 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 CHARLES DUDLEY eaters. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 'How's this? Rife, villain, and defend yourfelf, 
 B E L C U R. 
 
 illam I
 
 A e O M E D Y. 6 9 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 The man who wrongs that lady is a villain Draw ! 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Never fear me, young gentleman ; brand me for a 
 coward, if I baulk you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Yet hold ! Let me not be too hafty : your name, I 
 think, is Belcour ? 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 Well, Sir. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 How is it, Mr, Belcour, you have done this mean, im> 
 manly wrong; beneath the mafic of generofity to give this 
 fatal flab to our domeftic peace ? You might have had my 
 thanks, my blefling ; take my defiance now. 'Tis Dudley 
 fpeaks to you, the brother, the protector of that injur'd 
 lady. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 The brother ? Give, yourfelf a truer title. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 What is't you mean ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Come, come, I know both her and you : I found you, 
 Sir, (but how or why I know not) in the good graces of 
 Mifs Rufport (yes, colour at the name !) I gave you no 
 difturbance there, never broke in upon you in that rich, 
 and plenteous quarter; but, when I cou'd have blafted all 
 your projects with a word, fpar'd you, in foolifti pity 
 jfpar'd you, nor rouz'd her from the fond credulity in 
 which your artifice had lull'd her. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, Sir, nor boafted to her of the fplendid prefent you 
 had made my poorLouifa; the diamonds, Mr. Belcour; 
 How was that? What can you plead to that arraign- 
 ment ? 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 You queftion me too late ; the name of Belcour and of 
 villain never met before : had you enquir'd of me before 
 you utter'd that rafh word, you might have fav'd yourfelf 
 or me a mortal error : now, Sir, I neither give nor take 
 an explanation ; fo, come on ! [They fght.
 
 70 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 S C E N E V. 
 
 LOUISA, end afterwards O'FLAHERTY.. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Hold, hold, for Heaven's fake hold ! Charles ! Mr. 
 Belcour ! Help ! Sir, Sir, make hafte, they'll murder one 
 Another. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Hell and confufio'n ! What's all this uproar for ? Can't 
 you leave off cutting one another's throats, and mind 
 what the poor girl fay? o you ? You've done a notable 
 thing, hav'n't you, both, to put her into fuch a flurry ? 
 I chink, o' my conscience, (he's the moft frighted of the 
 three. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 )ear Louifa, recoiled! yourfelf; why did you interfere? 
 J Tis in your cauie. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Now cou'd I kill him for careffing her. 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Sir, your moft obedient ! You are the gentleman I 
 had he honour of meeting here before ; you was then 
 running off at full fpeed like a Calmud', now you are 
 tilting and driving like a Bedlamite with this lad here, 
 that Isems as mad as yourfelf: 'Tis pity but your country 
 hal a litile more employment for you both. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Mr. Dudley, when you've recover'd the lady, you know 
 where I am to be found. [Exit. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Well then, can't you ftay where you are, and that will 
 fave the trouble of looking sfter you ? Yon volatile fellow 
 thinks to give a man the meeting by getting out of his 
 way : by my foul 'tis a round-about method that of his. 
 But i think he calPd you Dudley: Hark'e, young man, 
 are you fon of my friend the old Captain ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 1 am. Help me to convey this lady to her chamber, 
 and I fhall be more at leifure to ani'wer your queflioas.
 
 A COMEDY. 71 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Ay will I : come along, pretty one) if you've had wrong 
 done you, young man, you need look no further for a fe- 
 cond j Dennis O'Flaherty's your man for that j but never 
 draw your fword before a woman, Dudley ; damn it, never 
 While you live draw your fword before a woman. \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT'J Hou/e, 
 LADY RUSPORT and S E R v A\N T. 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 An elderly gentleman, who fays his name is Varland, 
 defires leave to wait on your ladyfliip. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Shew him in ; the very man I wifh to fee : Varland ; 
 he was Sir Oliver's follicitor, and privy to all his affairs ; 
 he brings fome good tidings ; fome frefh mortgage, or ano- 
 ther bond come to ligSt ; they ftart up every day. (V A R- 
 LAND enters.'} Mr. Varland, I'm glad to fee you; you're 
 heartily welcome, honeft Mr. Varland ; you and I havn't 
 met fmce our late irreparable lofs : how have you pafled 
 your time this age ? 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Truly, my lady, ill enough : I thought I muft have 
 followed good Sir Oliver. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Alack-a-day, poor man ! Well, Mr. Varland, you find 
 me here overwhelmed with trouble and fatigue ; torn to 
 pieces with a multiplicity of affairs ; a great fortune poured 
 upon me unfought for and unexpected : 'twas my good fa- 
 ther's will and pleafure it fhould be fo, and I muft fubmit. 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Your ladyfliip inherits under a will made in the year 
 forty-five, immediately after Captain Dudley's marria^o 
 with your fifter, 
 
 LADY RUSPORT* 
 
 I do fo, Mr. Varland $ I do fo,
 
 72 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 I well remember it ; I engroffed every fyllable ; but 1 
 am furprized to find your ladyfliip fet fo little ftore by this 
 vafi acceffion. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Why you know, Mr. Varland, I am a moderate wo- 
 man ; I had enough before; a fmall matter . fatisfies me; 
 and Sir Stephen Rufport (Heaven be his portion !) took 
 care I fhoudn't want that. 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Very truej very true, he did Co ; and I am overjoyed at 
 finding your ladymip in this difpofition ; for, truth to fay, 
 I was iv t without apprehenfion the news I have to com- 
 municate would have been of fome prejudice to your lady- 
 jCbip's tranquility. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 News, Sir ! What news have you for me ? ; 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Nay, nothing to alarm you; a trifle, in your prefent 
 way of thinking: I have a will of Sir Oliver's you have 
 never ieen. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 A will ! Impoflible ! How came you by it, pray ? 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 I drew it up, at his command, in his laft illnefs : it will 
 fave you a world of trouble : it gives his whole eftate from 
 you to his grandfon, Charles Dudley. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 To Dudley ? His eftate to Charles Dudley ? I can't 
 fupport it ! I fhall faint ! You've killed me, you vile man i 
 1 never fhall .furvive it ! 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Look'e there now : I proteft, I thought you would 
 have rejoiced at being clear of the incumbrance. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 *Tis falfe; 'tis all a forgery, concerted between you and 
 Dudley ; why elfe did I never hear of it before ? 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Have patience, my lady, and I'll tell you : By Sir Oli- 
 ver's direction, I was to deliver this will into no hands but 
 his grandfon Dudley's: the young gentleman happen'd te
 
 r A COMEDY.' 73 
 
 be then in Scotland; I was difpatch'd thither in fearch of 
 him; the hurry and fatigue of my journey brought on a 
 fever by the way, which confined me in extreme danger 
 01 several days ; upon my recovery, I purfued my journey, 
 found young Dudley had left Scotland in the interim, and 
 am now dire&td hither ; where, as foon as I can find him, 
 doubtlefs, I fhall dtfcharge my confciencc, and fulfil my 
 commiflion. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Dudley then, as yet, knows nothing of this will? 
 
 V A R L A N D 
 
 Nothing; that fecret rtfts with me. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 A thought occurs : by this fellow's talking of his con- 
 fcience, I (hould guefs it was Ujon fale (a/ide.) Come, 
 Mr. Varland, if 'tis as you fay, J muft fubmit. I was 
 fomewhat flurried at fiift, and forgot myfelf ; I afk your 
 pardon : this is no place to talk, of bufinefs ; ftep with me 
 into my room j we will there compare the will, i;nd refolve 
 
 accordingly Oh ! would your fever had you, and I had 
 
 your paper. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 Miss RUSPORT, CHARLES, and O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 So, fo ! My lady and her lawyer have retired to c'ofe 
 confabulation : now, Major, if you are the generous man 
 1 take you for, grant me one favour. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Faith will I, and not think much of my generofity nei- 
 ther ; for, though it may not be in my po^er to do the fa- 
 vour you a(k, look you, it can never be in my heart to re 
 fufe it. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Cou'd this man's tongue do juftice to his thoughts, how 
 eloquent would he be ! (aftde.) 
 
 C H A R L O T T E. 
 
 Plant yourfelf then in that room: keep guard, for a few 
 moments, upon the enemy's motions, in tne chamber .be- 
 yond j and, if they lbou!d attempt a fally, itop tjieir marclf
 
 74 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 a moment, till your friend here can make good his retreat 
 down the backstairs. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 A word to the wife ! I'm an old campaigner; make the 
 beft ufe of your time; and traft me for tying the old cat up 
 to the picket. 
 
 CHARLOTTE, 
 
 Hufh ! hufti ! not fo loud. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 'Tis the office of a centind, Major, you have under- 
 taken, rather than that of a field-officer. 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 'Tis the office of a friend, my dear boy ; and, there- 
 fore, no difgrace to a general. [Exit, 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 CHARLES and CHARLOTTE. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 tVell, Charles, will you commit yourfelf to me for a 
 few minutes ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Moft readily ; and let me, before one goes by, tender 
 you the only payment I can ever make for your abundant 
 generofity. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Hold, hold ! fo vile a thing as money muft not come be- 
 tween us. What {hall I fay ! O Charles ! O Dudley ! 
 What difficulties have you thrown upon me ! Familiarly 
 as we have lived, I flirink at what I'm doing ; and, anxioufly 
 as I have fought this opportunity, my fears almoft perfuade 
 me to abandon it.; 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You alarm me ! 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Your looks and adtions have been fo diftant, and at this 
 moment are fo deterring, that, was it not for the hope that 
 Delicacy, and not difguft, infpires this conduct in you, I 
 ihould fink with fliame and apprehenfion ; but timepreffes; 
 3nd I muft fpeak j and plainly too Was you now in pof-
 
 A COMEDY. 75 
 
 feffion of your grandfather's eftate, asjuftly you ought to 
 be, and was you inclined to feek a companion for life, 
 fliould you, or fbould you not, in tnat cafe, honour your 
 unworthy Charlotte with your choice ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 My unworthy Charlotte ! So judge me Heaven there 
 is not a circumftance on earth fo valuable as your hap- 
 pinefs, fo dear to me as your perfon : but to bring poverty, 
 difgrace, reproach from friends, ridicule from all the world 
 upon a generous benefaclrefs j theivHhly to fteal into an 
 open, unreferved, ingenuous heart, O Charlotte ! dear, 
 unhappy girl, it is not to be done. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Nay, now you rate too highly the poor advantages 
 fortune alone has given me over you : how otherwife 
 could we bring our merits to any ballance ? Come, my 
 dear Charles, 1 have enough j make that enough ftill more 
 by {haring it with me : frle heirefs of my father's fortune, 
 a fhort time will put it in my difpofal } in the mean while 
 you will be fent to join your regiment ; let us prevent a fe- 
 paration, by fetting out this very night for that happy 
 country where marriage ftill is free : carry me this moment 
 to Belcour's lodgings. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Belcour's ? The name is ominous ; there's murder in 
 it : bloody inexorable honour ! (afide.) 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 D'ye paufe ? Put me into his hands, while you provide 
 the means for our efcape : he is the moft generous, the 
 mod honourable of men. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Honourable ! moft honourable ! 
 
 CHARLOT TE. 
 
 Can you doubt it ? Do you demur ? Have you forgot 
 your letter ? Why, Belcour 'twas that prompted me to tnis 
 propofal, that promifed to fupply the means, that nobly of- 
 fer'd his unafk'd afliftance 
 
 (O'FLAHERTY enters hajiily. ) 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Run, run, for holy St Antony's fake, to horfe and 
 away ! The conference is broke up, and the old lady ad-
 
 76 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 vances upon a full piedmontefe trot, within piftol-fhot of 
 your encampment. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Here, here, down the back-Hairs ! O, Charles, remem- 
 ber me ! 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Farewell ! Now, now I feel myfelf a coward. [Exit. 
 
 CHARLO TTE. 
 
 What does he mean ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Afk no queftions, but be gone: fhe has cooled the lad's 
 courage, and wor.ders he feels like a coward. There's a 
 damn'd deal of rnifcaief brewing between this hyena and 
 her lawyer: esjad I'll ftep behind this fcreen and liften : a 
 good foidier muft fometimes fight in ambufh as well as open 
 field (retires.) 
 
 S C E N E IX. 
 LADY RUSPORT and VA n L A N D. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 Sure I heard fomebody. Hark ! No ; only the fervants 
 goino; down the back (lairs. Well, Mr. Varland, I think 
 tben we arc agreed ; you'll take my money; and your con- 
 fcience no longer ftands in your way. 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Your father was my benefactor ; his will ought to be fa- 
 cred ; buf, if I commit it to the flames, how will he be the 
 wifer ? Dudley, 'tis true, has done me no harm ; but five 
 thoufand pounds will do me much good ; io, in (hort, 
 Madam, I take your offer ; I will confer with my clerk, 
 who witneffcd the will ; and to-morrow morning put it 
 into your hands, upon condition you put five thoufand 
 good pounds into mine. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT. 
 
 'Tis a bargain ; I'll he re^dy for you ; farewell. [Exit. 
 
 VARLAND. 
 
 Let me confidcc -Five thoufand pounds prompt pay- 
 ment for destroying this (crap of paper, nor worth five far- 
 things ; 'tis a fortune eadly earn'd ; yes, and 'tis another 
 nun^ eaiily thrown away : ':is a gdod round fum
 
 A C O M E D Y. 77 
 
 to be paid down at once for a bribe, but 'tis a damn'd 
 rogue's trkk in me to take it. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. (afide.) 
 
 So, fo ! this fellow {peaks truth to. himfelf, tho' he lies 
 to oiher people but hufh ! 
 
 V A R L A N D. 
 
 'Tis breaking the truft of my benefactor; that's a foul 
 crime, but he's dead, and can never reprcach me with it : 
 and 'tis robbing young Dudley of his lawful patrimony, 
 that's a hard cafe, but he's alive and knows nothing of the 
 matter. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. (aftde.) 
 
 Thefe lawyers are fo ufed to bring off the rogueries of 
 others, that they are never without an excyfe for their 
 own. 
 
 V A R L A N D. 
 
 Were I afiured now that Dudley would giv me half the 
 money for producing this will, that Lady Ruport does for 
 concealing it, I wou'd deal with him, and be an honeffc 
 man at half price ; I wifh every gentleman offny profeflion 
 cou'd lay his hand on his heart and fay the fane thing. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 A bargain, old gentleman !. Nay, never ft rt, nor ftare, 
 you wasn't afraid of your own confcience, ver be afraid 
 of me. 
 
 V A R L A N D. 
 
 Of you, Sir; who sre you, pray ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 I'll tell you who I am : you feetn to wiflito be honeft, 
 but want the heart to fet about it ; now I an the very 
 in the world to make you fo ; for if you o not give me 
 up that paper this very inftant, by the foul f me, feliow, 
 I will not leave one vvhcle bons in your fkin:hat ihan't be 
 broken. 
 
 V A R L A N D. 
 What light have you, pray, to take this pper from me? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 What right have you, pray, to keep from young 
 Dudley ? I don't know what it contains, 1 1 I am apt to 
 think it will be fafer in my hands than inour's; there- 
 fore give it me without more words, and e yourfelf a 
 beating : do now 3 you had beft-.
 
 ?8 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 V AR L A N D. 
 
 Well, Sir, I may as well make a grace of neceflity* 
 There ! I have acquitted my confcience, at the expence of 
 five thoufand pounds. 
 
 Five thoufand pounds ! Mercy upon me ! When there 
 are fuch temptations in the law, can we wonder if fome of 
 the corps are a difgrace to it ? 
 
 V AR L A N D. 
 
 Well, you have got the paper j if you are an honeft 
 tnan, give it to Charles Dudley. 
 
 0*FLAHERTY. 
 
 An honefl man ! look at me friend, I am a foldier, 
 this is not th; livery of a knave ; I am an Irifliman, honey, 
 mine is not the country of diflionor. Now, Sirrah, be 
 gone ; if yoi enter thefe doors, or give Lady Rufport the 
 leaft item of what has parted, I will cutoff both your ears, 
 and rob the pllory of its due. 
 
 V A R L A N D. 
 
 I wifti I wis once fairly out of his fight. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE X. 
 (A Rom in STOCKWELL'S Houfe.) 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I muft difcofe myfelf to Belcour ; this noble inftance 
 of his generdty, which old Dudley has been relating, 
 allies me to hn at once ; concealment becomes too pain- 
 ful ; 1 lhall b proud to own him for my fon But fee, 
 
 he's here. 
 
 (BELCOU-. enters and throws Jrimfelf on a fipba.) 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 O my curl tropical conftitution ! wou'd to Heaven I 
 had been dropupon the fnows of Lapland, and never felt 
 the blefled infier.ce of the Sun, fo i haJ never burnt with 
 thefe inflammiory paffions ! 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 So, fo, yo'.feem difordei'd, Mr. Belcour.
 
 A COMEDY. 99 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Diforder'd, Sir ! why did I ever quit the foil in which I 
 grew ; what evil planet drew me from that warm funny 
 region, where naked nature walks without difguife, into 
 this cold contriving artificial country? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Come, Sir, you've met a rafcal j what o'that ? general 
 conclufions are illiberal. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 No, Sir, I've met reflection by the way ; I've come 
 from folly- noife and fury, and met a filent monitor Well, 
 well, a villian ! 'twas not to be pardon'd-^-pray never 
 mind me, Sir. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Alas ! my heart bleeds for him. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 And yet I might have heard him : now plague upon 
 that blundering Irifliman for coming in as he did ; the 
 hurry of ihe deed might paliate the event : deliberate ex- 
 ecution has lefs to plead Mr. Stockwell, I am bad com- 
 pany to you. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Oh, Sir ; make no excufe. I think you have not found 
 me forward to pry into the fecrets of your pleafures and 
 purfuits ; 'tis not my difpofition ; but there are times, 
 when want pf curiofuy, wcu'd be want of friendlhip. 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Ah, Sir, mine is a cafe wherein you and I (hall never 
 think alike ; the punctilious rules, by which I am bound, 
 are not to be found in your ledgers, nor will pafs current 
 in the compting-houfe of a trader. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 'Tis very well, Sir ; if you think I can render you. 
 any fervice ; it may be worth your trial to confide in me ; 
 if not, your fecret is fafer in your own bofom. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 That fentiment demands my confidence : pray, fit down 
 by me. You muft know, I have an affair of honour on 
 my hands with young Dudley ; and tho* I put up with no 
 man's infult, yet I wifa to take away no man's life.
 
 ;;o THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 I know the young man, and am appris'd of your gene- 
 rofity to his father, what can have bred a quarrel between 
 you ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 A foolifh paffion on my fide, and a haughty provocation 
 
 00 his. There is a girl, Mr. Stockwell, whom I have un- 
 fortunately fcen, of muft uncommon beauty ; fhe has withal 
 an air of fo much natural modeft), that had I not had 
 good aflurance of her being an attainable wanton, 1 declare 
 
 1 (hcu'd as foon have thought of attempting the chaftity of 
 Diana. 
 
 (SERVANT enters.') 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Hey-day, do you interrupt <us ? 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 Sir, there's an Irifh gentleman will take no denial ; he 
 fays he muft fee Mr. Beicour diretly>. upon bufmefs of the 
 laft confequence. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Admit him ; 'tis the Irifh officer that parted us, and 
 brings me young Dudley's challenge ; I fhould have made 
 a long ftory of it, and he'll tell it you in three words. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY enters. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Save you, my dear ; and you, Sir ! J have a little bit of 
 a word in private for you. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Pray deliver ycur commands ; this gentleman is my in- 
 timate friend. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Why then, Enfign Dudley will be glad to meafure 
 f-.vords with you, yonder at the London Tavern, in Bi- 
 fnopigate-Strter, at nine o'clock you know the place. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 1 do; and {hall obferve the appointment. 
 
 O ' F L A K E R T V. 
 
 Will you be of the party, Sir ? We (ball want a fourth 
 hand.
 
 A COMEDY. gx 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Savage as the cuftom is, I clofe with your proposal, 
 and tho' I am not fully infonn'd of the occafion of your 
 quarrel, I fhall rely on Mr. Belcour's honour for the 
 juftice ef itj and willingly ftake my life in his de- 
 fence. 
 
 0'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Sir, you're a gentleman of honour, and I fhall be 
 
 glad of being better known to you But hark'ee, 
 
 Belcour, I had like to have forgot part of my errand : 
 there is the money you gave old Dudley; you may tell 
 it over faith ; 'tis a receipt in full ; now the lad can put 
 you to death with a fafe confcience, and when he has 
 done that job for you, let it be a warning how you at- 
 tempt the lifter of a man of honour. 
 - r 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 The filter? 
 
 O'P L AH ERT Y. 
 
 Ay, the fifter ; 'tis Englifh, is it not ? Or Irifh ; 'tis 
 all one; you underftand nu>, his fifter, or Louifa Dud- 
 ley, that's her name I think, call her which you will : 
 by St. Patrick, 'tis a foolifh piece of a bufmefs, Bel- 
 cour, to go about to take away a poor girl's virtue from 
 her, when there are fo many to be met in this town, 
 who have difpos'd of their's to your hands. [Exit. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Why I am thunderftruck ! what is it you have done, 
 ,and what is the {hocking bulinefs in which I have En- 
 gaged ? If I underftood him right, 'tis the fifter of 
 young Dudley you've been attempting: you talk'd t 
 me of a profeft wanton ; the girl he fpeaks of has 
 beauty enough indeed to inflame your deftres, but Ihe 
 has honour, innocence and fimplicity to awe the moft 
 licentious paflion ; if you have done that, Mr. Belcour^ 
 I renounce you, I abandon you, I forfwear all fellow- 
 fliip or friendship with you for ever. 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Have patience for a moment ; we do indeed fpeak of 
 the fame perfon, but {he is not irinocent, flie is not 
 young Dudley's frfter, 
 
 M STOCKWELL.
 
 3* THEWESTINDI 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Aftonifhing ! who told you this ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 The woman where {[is lodges ; the perfon who put 
 me on the purfuit and ccntriv'd our meetings, 
 
 S-T O C K W E L L. 
 
 What woman ? What perfon ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Fulmer her name is : I warrant you I did not pro- 
 ceed without good grounds. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Fulmer, Fuhner ? Who waits ? (a Servant enters) 
 fend Mr. Stukely hither directly ; I begin to fee my 
 way into this dark tranfadion : Mr. Belcour, Mr. Bel- 
 eour, your are no match for the cunning and con- 
 trivances of this intriguing town. fStukely enters) 
 prythee, Stukely, what is the name of the woman and 
 her hufband, who were ftopt upon fufpicion of felling 
 ftolen diamonds at eur next-door neighbour's, the 
 jeweller ? 
 
 S T U K E L Y. 
 
 Fulmer. 
 
 STOCKWELL, 
 
 So! 
 
 B E L C 6 U R. 
 
 Can you procure me a fight of thofc diamonds ? 
 
 STUKELY. 
 
 They are now in my hand - } I was defirM to fhow 
 them to Mr. Stock well. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Give 'em to me : what do I fee ? As I live, the very- 
 diamonds Mi.fs Rufport fent hither, and whieh I in- 
 truded to you to return. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 - Yes, but I betray'd that truft, and gave 'ern Mrs. 
 Fulmer to prefent to Mifs Dudley. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 With a view Ha doubt to bribe her to compliance. 
 
 * i * v ft.
 
 A COMEDY. 83 
 
 B E L C O U,R. 
 
 I own it. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 For fhame, for fhamc? and 'twas this woman's in- 
 telligence you relied upon for Mils Dudley's chara&er? 
 
 B E L C Q U R, 
 
 I thought {he knew her ; by Heaven, I wou'd have 
 jdied fooner than have infulted a. woman of virtue, or 4 
 man of honour. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I think you wou'd, but mark the danger of licentious 
 courfes ; you are betray'd, robb'd, abus'd, and but for 
 this providential difcovery in a fair way of being fent 
 out of the world with all your follies on your head 
 Dear Stukely, go to my neighbour, tell him I have aa 
 owner for the jewels, and beg him to carry the people 
 under cuftody to the London Tavern, and wait for me 
 there. [Exit Stukely. 
 
 I fear the law does not provide a puniflament to reach 
 the villiany of thefe people ; but how in the name of 
 wonder cou'd you take any thing on the word of fuch 
 an informer ? 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 Becaufe I had not liv'd long enough in your country 
 to know how few informers words are to be taken : 
 perfwaded however as I was of Mifs Dudley's guilt, 
 1 muft own to you I was ilagger'd with the appearance 
 of fuch innocence, efpecially when I faw her admitted 
 into Mifs Rufport's company. 
 
 STOCKWELL, 
 
 Good Heaven ! did you meet her at Mifs Rufport's, 
 and cou'd you doubt h.er being a womim of reputa- 
 tion ? 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 By you perhaps fuch a mifhike cou'd not have been 
 made-, but in a perfect ftranger, I hope it is venial : 
 ] did not know what artifices young Dudley might 
 have us'd to conceal her character ; i did not know 
 What difgracs attended the detection of it. 
 
 M * STOCKWELi
 
 g$ THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 I fee it was a trap laid for you, which you have 
 narrowly efeap'd ; you addrefs'd a woman of honour 
 v/ith all the loofe incenfe of a profane admirer, arid 
 you have drawn upon you the reientment of a man of 
 honour who thinks himfelf bound to protect her : 
 Well, Sir, you muft atone for this miftake. 
 
 BE LC O UR. 
 
 To the lady the moft penitent fubmifiion I can 
 make is juftly due, but in the execution of an a6t of 
 juftice it never fhall be faid my foul was fwayed by the 
 leaft particle of fear : I have received a challenge from 
 her brother ; now tho* I wou'd give my fortune, 
 almoft my life it felt, to purchafe her happinefs, yet I 
 cannot abate her one fcruple of my honour j I have 
 been branded with the name of villain. 
 
 STOCK WELL. 
 
 Ay, Sir, you miftook her character and he raifteojc 
 yours j error begets error, 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Villain, Mr. Stockwell, is a harfh word. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 It is a harlh word, and fhould be unfaid. 
 
 BELCOUR 
 
 (Come, come, it fhall be unfaid. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Or elfe what follows ? why the fword i? drawn and 
 to heal the wrongs you have done to the reputation of 
 the fifter, you make an honourable amends by murdtr- 
 ing the brother. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Murdering ! 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 'Tis thus religion writes and fpeaks the word ; in 
 the vocabulary of modern honour there is no fucU 
 term But come, I don't defpair of fatisfying the on* 
 Vrithout alarming the other ; that done, I have a dif 7 
 povery to unfpld that you will then I hope be fitted t^ 
 receive. 
 
 ND or THE FOURTH ACT,
 
 A COMEDY. 8| 
 
 ACTV. SCENE!. 
 The London Tavern. 
 
 P'FLAHERTY,, STOCKWELL, CHARLES, 
 and BELCOUR. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY, 
 
 GEntlemen, well met ! you underftand each other's 
 minds, and as I fee you have brought nothing 
 but your fwords, you may let to without any further 
 ceremony. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 You will not find us backward in any worthy caufe ; 
 but before we proceed any further, 1 would alk this 
 young gentleman, whether he has any explanation to 
 require of Mr. Belcour. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Of Mr. Belcour. none ; his actions fpeak for them- 
 felves : but to you, fir, I would fain propofe one 
 'queftion. 
 
 S TOC K.W ELL. 
 
 Name it. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 How is it, Mr. Stockwell, that I meet a man of 
 your character on this ground ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I will anfwer you directly, and my anfwer fhall not 
 difpleafe you. 1 come hither in defence of the reputa- 
 tion of Mifs Dudley, to redrefs the injuries of an ia- 
 nocent young lady. 
 
 O'F L A H E R T Y. 
 
 By my foul the man knows he's to fight, only he 
 miftakes which fide he's to be of. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 You are about to draw your fword to refute a charge 
 ?g ainft your filler's honour; you would do well, if 
 there were no better means within reach ; but the 
 proofs of her innocence are Ipdg'd ip eur baft 5 ? ai
 
 86 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 if we fall, you deftroy the evidence that moft 
 ally can clear her fame. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 How's that, Sir ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 This gentleman could beft explain it to you, but 
 you have given him an undeferv'd name that feals his 
 lips againft you : I am not under the fame Inhibition, 
 and if yoiir anger can keep cool for a few minutes, I 
 defire I may call in two witncfTes, who will folve all 
 difficulties at once. Here, waiter ! bring thofe people 
 in, that are without. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Out upon it, what need is there for fo much talking 
 about the macter j can't you fettle your differences 
 firft, and difpute about 'em afterwards ? 
 
 (FuLMER and Mrs. FULMER brought m.) 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Fulmer and his wife in cuftody ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Yes, Sir, thefe are your honed landlord and land- 
 lady, now in cuftody for defrauding this gentleman of 
 certain diamonds intended to have been prefented to 
 your fifter. Be fo good, Mrs. Fulmer, to inform the 
 company why you fo grofsly fcandalized the reputation 
 of an innocent lady, by perfuading Mr. Belcour that 
 Mifs Dudley was not the niter, but the miftrefs, of this 
 gentleman. 
 
 Mrs. FULMER. 
 
 Sir, I don't know what right you have to queflion 
 me, and I fliall not anfwer till I fee occafion. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Had you been as filent heretofore, Madam, it would 
 have faved you fome trouble ; but we don't want your 
 confeffion. This letter, which you wrote to Mr. Bel- 
 cour, will explain your defign ; and thefe diamonds, 
 which of right belong to Mifs Rufport, will confirm 
 your guilt : the law, Mrs. Fulmer, will make you 
 fpeak, tho' I can't. Conftafcle, take charge of your 
 
 j>rifcners. 
 
 FULMER.
 
 A COM ED Y. tj 
 
 F U L M E R. 
 
 Hold a moment : Mr. Stockwell, you are a gentle* 
 inan that knows the world, and a member of parlia- 
 ment ; we {hall not attempt to irnpofe upon you ; we 
 know we are open to the law, and we know the ut- 
 moft it can do againft us. Mr. Belcour has been ill 
 ufed to be fure, and fo has Mifs Dudley ; and, for my 
 own part, I always condemn'd the plot as a very foolim 
 plot, but it was a child of Mrs. Fulmer's brain, and 
 (he would not be put out of conceit with it. 
 Mrs. F u L M E R. 
 
 You are a very foolilh man, Mr. Fulmer, fo prythe 
 hold your tongue. 
 
 FULMER. 
 
 Therefore, as I was faying, if you fend her to Bride- 
 well, it won't be amifs ; and if you give her a little 
 wholefome discipline, {he may be the better for that 
 too : but for me, Mr. Stockwell, who am a man of 
 letters, I muft befeech you, Sir, not to- bring any dif- 
 grace upon my profefiion. 
 
 ST.OCKWEL L. 
 
 'Tis you, Mr. Fulmer, not I, that difgrace youf 
 profcflion, therefore begone, nor expect that I wilt 
 betray the interefts of mankind fo far as to {hew fa- 
 vour to fuch incendiaries. Take 'em away ; I blufh 
 to think fuch wretches fhculd have the power to fet 
 two honeft men at variance. [Exeunt Fulmer, &c. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Mr. Belcour, we have miftaken each other ; let us 
 exchange forgivcnefs. I am convinced you intended 
 no affront to my filler, and I aflc your pardon for 
 the expreflion I was betrayed into, "\ 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 'Tis enough, Sir ; the error began on my fide, and 
 was Mifs Dudley here, I would be the firfl to atone. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Let us all adjourn to my houfe, and conclude the 
 evening like friends : you will find a little entertain- 
 ment ready for yu ; and, if I aa act miftajcen, Mifs.
 
 88 T H E W E S T I N D I A N: 
 
 Dudley and her father will make part of our company.- 
 Come, Major, do you confent ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Moft readily, Mr. Stockwell ; a quarrel well made* 
 tip, is better than a victory hardly earned. Give me 
 your hand, Belcour ; o' my confcience you are tod 
 honeft for the country you live in. And now, my 
 dear lad, fmce peace is concluded on all fides, 1 have 
 a difcovery to make to you, which you muft find out 
 for yourfelf, for deuce take me if I rightly comprehend 
 it, only that your aunt Rufport is in a confpiracy* 
 againft you, and a vile rogue of a lawyer, whofe name 
 I forget, at the bottom of it. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 What confpiracy ? Dear Major, recollect yourfelf. 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 By my foul, I've no faculty at recollecting myfelf ; 
 but I've a paper fomewhere about me, that will tell 
 you more of the matter than I can. When I get to 
 the merchant's, I will endeavour to find it. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Well, it muft be in your own way ; but I confefs 
 you have thoroughly rous'd my curiofity. \Excunt* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 STOCK WELL'S Houfet 
 Capt. DUD-LEY, LOUISA, and S T u K E L V. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 And are thofe wretches, Fulmer and his wife, i* 
 fafe cuftody ? 
 
 S T U K E L Y. 
 
 They are in good hands, I accompanied them to ther 
 Tavern, where your fon was tp be, and then v/ent in 
 fearch of you. You may be fure Mr. Stockwell will 
 nforce the law againft them as far as it will go. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 What mifchief ..'might their curfed machinations 
 kaye produced, but for this timely difeovery ! 
 
 LOUISA,
 
 A COMEDY. 89 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Still I am terrified ; I tremble with apprehenfion 
 left Mr. Belcour's. impetuofity and Charles's fpirit 
 fhou'd not wait for an explanation, but drive them 
 both to extremes, before the miftake can be unra- 
 v'eird. 
 
 S T U K ELY. 
 
 Mr. Stockwell is with them, Madam, and you have 
 nothing to fear j you cannot fuppofe he wou'd afk you 
 hither for any other purpofe, but to celebrate their re- 
 conciliation and to receive Mr. Belcour's attonement; 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 No, n6, Louifa, Mr. Stockwell's honour and dif- 
 tretion guard us againft all danger or ofFence ; he well 
 knows we will endure no imputation on the honour of 
 our family, and he certainly has invited us to receive 
 fatisfa&ion on that fcore in an amicable way. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 Wou'd to Heaven they were return'd ! 
 
 S T U K E L Y. 
 
 You may expect them every minute ; and fee Ma- 
 dam, agreeable to your wifh, they are here. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 CHARLES enters, and afterwards STOCKWELL 
 and O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 , LOUISA. 
 
 O Charles, O brother, how cou'd you ferve me fo 
 how cou'd you tell me you was going to Lady Ruf- 
 pert's and then fet out with a defign of fighting Mr. 
 Belcour ? But where is he ; where is your antagonift I 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Captain, I am proud to fee you, and you Mi's Dud- 
 ley, do me particular honour : We have been adjufl- 
 ing, Sir, a very extraordinary and dangerous midake, 
 which I take for granted my friend Stukely has ex- 
 plain'd to you. 
 
 J DUDLEY.
 
 90 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 He has ; I have too good an opinion of Mr. Bel- 
 cour to believe he cou'd be guilty of a defign'd affront 
 to an innocent girl, and I am much too well acquainted 
 with your character to fuppofe you cou'd abet him in 
 fach defign ; I have no doubr therefore all things will 
 be fet to rights in very few words when we have the 
 pleafure of feeing Mr. Belcour. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 He has only ftept into the compting-houfe and will 
 wait upon you directly : You will not be over ftrict, 
 Madam, in weighing Mr. Belcour's conduct to the 
 minuteft fcruple ; his manners, paffions and opinions 
 are not as yet affimilated to this climate ; he comes 
 amongft you a new character, an inhabitant of a new 
 world and both hofpitality as well as pity recommend 
 him to our indulgence. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 BELCOUR enters, bows to Mifs DUDLEY. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 I am happy and afham'd to fee you ; no man in his 
 fenfes wou'd offend you ; I forfeited mine and err'd 
 againft the light of the fun, when I overlooked your 
 virtues ; but your beauty was predominant and hid 
 them from my fight ; I now perceive I was the dupe of 
 a moft improbable report, and humbly entreat your 
 pardon. 
 
 L O U I $ A. 
 
 Think no more of it ; 'twas a miftake. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 My life has beencompos'd of little elfe ; 'twas found- 
 ed in myftery and has continued in error : I was once 
 fiven to hope, Mr. Stockwell, that you was to have 
 eliver'd me from thefe difficulties, but either I do not 
 tleferve your confidence, or I was deceiv'd in my ex- 
 pectations. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 When this lady has confirm'd your pardon, I (hall 
 hold you defervjng of my confidence. 
 
 LOUISA.
 
 A COMEDY. 91 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 That was granted the moment it was alk'd. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 * To prove my title to his confidence honour me fo 
 far with your's as to allow me a few minutes conver- 
 fation in private with you. [She turns to her father 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 By all means, Louifa ; come, Mr. Stockwell, let 
 us go into another room. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 And now, major O'Flaherty, I claim your promife 
 of a fight of the paper, that is to unravel this confpi- 
 racy of my aunt Rufport's : I think I have waited with 
 great patience. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY, 
 
 I have been endeavouring to call to mind what it 
 was I overheard ; I've got the paper and will give 
 you the beft account I can of the whole tranfaclion. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 B E L c o u R and LOUISA. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Mifs Dudley, I have folicited this audience to repeat 
 to you my penitence and confufion : How fhall I 
 atone ? What reparation can I make to you and vir- 
 tue ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 To me there's nothing due, nor any thing demanded 
 of you but your more favourable opinion for the future, 
 if you fhould chance to think of me : Upon the part 
 of virtue I'm not empower'd to fpeak, but if hereafter, 
 as you range thro' life, you fhou'd furprize her in the 
 perfon of fome wretched female, poor as myfelf and 
 not fo well protected, enforce not your advantage, 
 complcat not your licentious triumph, but raife her, 
 refcue her from fhame and forrow, and reconcile her 
 tp herfelf again. 
 
 N 2 feELC OUft
 
 ^2 TH WEST INDIAN: 
 
 B E t C O U R. 
 
 I will, I will ; by bearing your idea ever prcfent in 
 my thoughts, virtue fliall keep an advocate within me; 
 but tell me, lovelieft, when you pardon the offence, 
 can yor, all perfect as you are, approve of the offender ? 
 As 1 now ceafe to view you in that falfe light I lately 
 did, can you, and in the fulnefs of your bounty will 
 you, ceafe alfo to reflect upon the libertine addrefles I 
 have paid you, and look upon me as your reform'd, 
 your rational admirer ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Are fudden reformations apt to laft ; and how can 
 I beYure the firft fair face you meet will not enfnare 
 affections fo unfteady, and that I fhall not lofe you 
 lightly as I gain'd you ? 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Becaufe tho* you conquer'd me by furprize, I have 
 no inclination to rebel ; becaufe fmce the firft moment 
 that I faw you, every inftant has improv'd you in my 
 eyes, beeaufe by principle as well as paffion I am un- 
 alterably yours, in fhort there are ten thoufand caufe? 
 for my love to you, would to Heaven I could plant 
 one in your foft- bofom that might move you to return 
 it ! 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Nay, Mr. Belcouf. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 I know I arn not worthy your regard ; I know I'm 
 tainted with a thoufand faults, lick of a thoufand fol- 
 lies, but there's a healing virtue in your eyes that 
 rqakes recovery certain; I cannot be a villain in your 
 arm.?. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 That you can never be ; whomever you fhall honour 
 \vith your choice, my life upou't that woman will be 
 happy ; it is not from fufpicion that I helltatc, it is 
 /rom honour; tis the feverity of my condition, it is 
 fhe y/prjd that never will interpret fairly in our cafe. 
 
 B E L C O TJ R.
 
 A COMEDY. $3 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Oh, what am I, and who in this wide world con- 
 cerns himfelf for fuch a namelefs, fueh a friendlefs thing 
 as I am? I fee, Mifs Dudley, I've not yet obtain'd 
 your pardon. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Nay, that you are in full pofleffion of. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Oh, feal it with your hand then, lovelieft of women* 
 confirm it with your heart ; make me honourably 
 happy,- and crown your penitent not with your pardoa 
 only, but your love. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 My love ! 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 By Heav'n my foul is conquer'd with your virtues 
 more than my eyes are ravifli'd with your beauty : Oh, 
 may this foft, this fenfitive alarm be happy, be aufpi- 
 cious ! Doubt not, deliberate not, delay not : If hap- 
 pinefs be the end of life, why do we flip a moment ? 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY inters, and afterwards DUDLEY 
 and CHARLES with STOCKWELL. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Joy, joy, joy ! fmg, dance, leap, laugh for joy ! 
 Ha' done making love and fall down on your knees 
 to every faint in the calendar, for they're all on your 
 fide and honeft St. Patrick at the head of them. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 O Louifa, fuch an event ! by the luckieft chance 
 in life we have difcover'd a will of my grandfather's 
 made in his laft illnefs, by which he cuts off my Aunt 
 Rufport with a fmall annuity, and leaves me heir to 
 his whole eftate, with a fortune of fifteen thoufand 
 pounds to yourfelf. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 What is it you tell me ? O Sir, inftru& me to fup- 
 ort this unexpected turn gf fortune, [To her father. 
 
 DUDLEY.
 
 94 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Name not fortune ; 'tis the work of providence, 'tis 
 thejuftice of Heaven that wou'd not fufFer innocence 
 to be opprefs'd, nor your bafe aunt to profpcr in her 
 cruelty and cunning. 
 
 \_A fervant ivbifyers Bclcour^ and he goes out. 
 o 'FLAHERTY. 
 
 You fhall pardon me, Capt. Dudley, but you mull 
 not overlook St. Patrick neither, for by my foul if he 
 had not put it into my head to flip behind the fcreen 
 wfyen your righteous aunt and the lawyer were plotting 
 together, I don't fee how you wou'd ever have come as 
 the paper there, that Mafter Stockwell is reading. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 True my good friend, you are the father of this 
 diftovery, but how did you contrive to get this will 
 from the lawyer ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 By force, my dear, the only way of getting any thing 
 from a lawyer's clutches. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Well, Major, when he brings his action of aflault 
 and battery againft you, the leaft Dudley can do is to 
 defend you with the weapons you have put into his 
 hands. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 That I am bound to do, and after the happinefs I 
 {hall have in flickering a father's age from the viciffi- 
 tudes of life, my next delight will be in offering you 
 an afylum in the bofom of your country. 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 And upon my foul, my dear, 'tis high time I was 
 there, for 'tis now thirty long years fince I fat foot in 
 my native country, and by the power of St. Patrick I 
 fwear I think it's worth all the reft of the world put 
 together. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Ay, Major, much about that time have I been beat- 
 ing the lound of fervice, and 'twere well for us both to 
 
 give
 
 A COMEDY. 95 
 
 five over ; we have flood many a tough gale and abun- 
 ance of hard blows, but Charles (hall lay us up in a 
 little private, but fafe, harbour, where we'll reft from 
 our labours, and peacefully wind up the remainder of 
 our days. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Agreed, and you may take it as a proof of my efteem, 
 young man, that Major O'Flaherty accepts a favour 
 at your hands, for by Heaven Pd fooner ftarve, than 
 fay I thank you to the man I defpife : But I believe 
 you are an honeft lad, and I'm glad you've trounc'd 
 the old cat, for on my confcience I believe I muft 
 ether wife have married* her myfelf to have let you in 
 for a fhare of her fortune. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Hey day, what's become of Belcour ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 One of your fervants call'd him out juft now and 
 feemingly on fome earneft occafion. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I hope, Mifs Dudley, he has aton'd to you as a gen- 
 tleman ought. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 Mr. Belcour, Sir, will always do what a gentleman 
 ought, and in my cafe I fear only you will think he has 
 done too much. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 What has he done ; and what can be too much ? 
 Pray Heaven, it may be as I wifh ! [afuk. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Let us hear it, child. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 With confufion for my own unworthinefs, Iconfefs 
 
 to you he has offer 'd me 
 
 STOCRWELL. 
 
 Himfelf. 
 
 1 U I * A.
 
 9 6 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 J Tis true. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Then I am happy ; all my doubts, my cares are 
 over, and I may own him for my fon. Why thefe 
 are joyful tidings : come, my good friend, aflift me in 
 difponng your lovely daughter to accept this returning 
 prodigal ; he is no unprincipled, no harden'd libertine; 
 his love for you and virtue is the fame. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 'Twere vile ingratitude in me to doubt his merit 
 What lays my child ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Begging your pardon now, 'tis a frivolous fort of a 
 queftion, that of yours ; for you may fee plainly enough 
 by the young lady's looks, that {he fays a great deal, 
 though fhe Ipeaks never a word. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Well, fifter, I believe the Major has fairly inter- 
 preted the ftate of your heart. 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I own it ; and what muft that heart be, which love, 
 honour and beneficence like Mr. Belcour's can make 
 no in;preifton on ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I thank you : What happinefs has this hour brought 
 t pafs ! 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Why don't we all fit down to fupper then and makfc 
 a night on't. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Hold, here comes Belcour. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 BELCOUR introducing Mifs R u s p o R T. 
 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 Mr. Dudley, here is a fair refugee, who properly 
 comes under your protection j fhe is equipt for Scot- 
 land
 
 A COMEDY. 
 
 land, but your good fortune, which I have related to 
 her, feems inclin'd to fave you both the journey i 
 Nay, Madam, never go back j you are amongft 
 Friends. 
 
 t H A R L E s, 
 Charlotte ! 
 
 C H A R LO * T E. 
 
 The fame ; that fond officious girl, that haunts yoti 
 every where j that persecuting fpirit 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Say rather, that protecting angel j fuch you hay^ 
 been to me. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 O Charles, you have an honeft, but proud heart* 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Nay, chide me not, dear Charlotte* 
 B E LC o u R. 
 
 Seal up her lips then j (he is an adorable girl ; h'ef 
 arms are open to you ; and love and happineis are 
 ready to receive you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Thus then I claim my dear, my deftin'd wife. 
 
 [embracing her* 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 Lady R u s p o R T enters, 
 
 Lady R u s p o R T; 
 
 Heyday! mighty fine! wife truly! mighty well! 
 kifling, embracing did ever any thing equal this ? 
 Why you ftiameleis hufley ! But I won't condefcend 
 
 to waite a word upon you. You, Sir, you, Mr* 
 
 Stockwell, you fine, fanjftified, fair-dealing man of 
 confcience, is this the principle you trade upon ? Is 
 this your neighbourly fyftem, to keep a houfe of recep- 
 tion for run-away daughters, and young beggarly ' 
 fortune-hunters ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 ft
 
 9 THE WEST INDIA K; 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Be advis'd now, and don't put yourfelf in fuch a 
 paflion i we were all very happy till you came. 
 
 Lady RU SPORT. 
 
 Stand away, Sir j hav'nt I a reafon to be m a paf- 
 (ion ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 Indeed, honey, and you have, if you knew all. 
 
 Lady R U s P o R T. 
 
 Come, Madam, I have found out your haunts ; dif- 
 pofe yourfelf to return home with me ; young man, let 
 me never fee you within my doors again : Mr. Stock- 
 well, 1 fhall report your behaviour, depend on it. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 Hold, Madam, I cannot confent to lofe Mifs Ruf- 
 port's company this evening, and I am perfuaded you 
 won't infift upon it; 'tis an unmotherly action to in- 
 terrupt your daughter's happinefs in this manner, be- 
 lieve me it is. 
 
 Lady R u s p o R T. 
 
 Her happinefs truly ; upon my word ! and I fuppofe 
 it's an unmotherly action to interrupt her ruin ; for 
 what but ruin muft it be to marry a beggar ? I think 
 rny fitter had a proof of that, Sir, when me made choice 
 of you. [70 Captain Dudley. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 Don't be too lavifh of your fpirits, Lady Rufport. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 By my foul you'll have occafion for a fip of the cor- 
 dial Elixir by and bye. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 It don't appear to me, Madam, that Mr. Dudley ea 
 be call'd a beggar. 
 
 Lady R u s P o R T. 
 
 But it appears to me, Mr. Stockwell ; I am apt to 
 think a pair of colours cannot furnifh fettlerrient quite 
 fufficient for the heirefs of Sir Stephen Rufport. 
 
 CHARLOTTE,
 
 A COMEDY. 99 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 But a good eftate in aid of a commiffion may do 
 ibmething. 
 
 Lady R u s P o R T.. 
 
 A good eftate, truly ! where fliou'd he get a good 
 dilate pray ? 
 
 STOCKWELL, 
 
 Why fuppofe now a worthy old gentleman on his 
 death-bed fhould have taken it in mind to leave him 
 one 
 
 Lady R u s P o R T. 
 Hah ! what's that you fay ? 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 O ho ! you begin to fmell a plot, do you ? 
 
 S T O C K W E L L. 
 
 Suppofe there fhould be a paper in the world that 
 
 runs thus " I do hereby give and bequeath all my 
 
 <c eftates, real and perfonal, to Charles Dudley, fon of 
 " my late daughter Louifa, &c. &c, &c." 
 Lady R u s p o R T. 
 
 Why I am thunder-ftruck ! by what contrivance, 
 what villany did you get pofleflion of that paper I 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 There was no villany, Madam, in getting pofleffion 
 of it ; the crime was in concealing it, none in bringing 
 it to light. 
 
 Lady R u s P o R T. 
 
 Oh, that curfed lawyer, Varland ! 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 You may fay that, faith, he is a curfed lawyer, and 
 a curfed piece of work I had to get the paper from him; 
 your ladyfhip now was to have paid him five thoufand 
 pounds for it, I forc'd him to give it rfle of his own 
 accord for nothing at all, at all. 
 
 Lady R u s P o R T. 
 
 Is it you that have done this ? Am I foil'd by your 
 Plundering contrivances, after all ? 
 
 'FLAHERTY/
 
 tCO T H E W E S T I N D I A N: 
 
 'FLAHERTY. 
 
 'Twas a blunder, faith, but as natural a one as if 
 I'd made it o' purpofe. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Come, let us not opprefs the fallen j do right even 
 flow, and you fhall have no caufe to complain. 
 
 Lady R u s P o R T. 
 
 Am I become an object of your pity then ? Infuffer- 
 able ! confufion light amongft you ! marry and be 
 wretched : let me never fee you more. [Exit, 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 She is outrageous ; I iuffer for h<*r, and blufh to fee 
 her thus expofed. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Come, Charlotte, don't let this angry woman dif- 
 turb our happinefs : we will fave her in fpitc of her- 
 felf ; your father's memory (hall not be ilaincd by the 
 difcredit of his fecond choice. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 I truft implicitly to your difcretion, and am in alj 
 things yours. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 Now, lovely but obdurate, does not this example 
 foften ? 
 
 LOUISA. 
 
 What can you afk for more ? Accept my hand, ac- 
 cept my willing heart. 
 
 B E L c o u R. 
 
 O blifs inutterable ! brother, father, friend, and you 
 the author of this general joy 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Blcfling of St. Patrick upon us all ! 'tis a night of 
 wonderful and furprizing ups and downs : I wifh we 
 were all fairly fet down to fupper, and there was an 
 tnd on't. 
 
 STOCK WELL.
 
 A COME D Y. roi 
 
 S T O C K W E*LL. 
 
 Hold for a moment ! I have yet one word to inter- 
 pofe Intitled by my friendfliip to a voice in your dif- 
 pofal, I have approv'd your match - t there yet remains 
 a father's confent to be obtained. 
 
 E E L c .o u B.. 
 Have I a father ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 You have a father : did not J tell you I had a dif 
 covcry to make ? Compofe yourfelf : you have a father, 
 who obferves, who knows, who loves you. 
 
 B E LC O UR. 
 
 Keep me no longer in fufpence ; my heart is foften'd 
 for the affecting difcovery, and nature fits me to receive 
 bis biefling. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I am your father. 
 
 BE LC O U R. 
 
 My father ? Do I live ? 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 I am your father. 
 
 B E L C O U R. 
 
 It is too much ; my happinefs o'erpowers me ; to 
 gain a friend and find a father is too much ; I bluuS to 
 think how little I deferve you. [They embrace. 
 
 DUDLEY. 
 
 See, children, how many new relations fpring from 
 this night's unforefeen events, to endear us to each 
 other. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 O my confeience, I think we fhall be all related by 
 and bye. 
 
 STOCKWELL. 
 
 How happily has this evening concluded, and yet 
 how threatning was its approach ! let us repair to the 
 fupper room, where I will unfold to you every circum- 
 ftance of my myfterious ftory. Yes, Belcour, I have 
 
 watch'd
 
 tot THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 tvatch'd you with a patient, but enquiring eye, and I 
 have difcover'd thro' the veil of fome irregularities, a 
 heart beaming with benevolence, an animated nature, 
 fallible indeed, but not incorrigible ; and your election 
 of this excellent young lady makes me glory in acknow- 
 ledging you to be my fon. 
 
 BELCO UR. 
 
 I thank you, and in my turn glory in the father I 
 have gained : fenilbly impreft with gratitude for fuch 
 extraordinary difpenfations, I befeech you, amiable 
 Louifa, for the time to come, whenever you perceive 
 me deviating into error or offence, bring only to my 
 mind the Providence of this night, and 1 will turn to 
 reafon and obey. 
 
 END OF THE PLAY.
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Written by D. G. Escfe 
 
 5POKEN BY 
 Mrs. A B I N G T O N. 
 
 N. B The Lines in Italics are to be fpoJtcn in a catechife Tne 
 
 f~* ONFESS, good folks, has not Mifs Rufport fliewn, 
 
 V^t Strange whims for SEVENTEEN HUNDRED SEVENTY-CHE? 
 What, pawn her jewels ! there's a precious plan! 
 To extricate from want a brave old man ; 
 And fall in love with poverty and honour; 
 
 A girl of fortune, fafhion! -Fie upon her, /; 
 
 But do not think we females of the ftage, 
 So dead to the refinements of the age, 
 That we agree with our old fafhion'd poet : 
 I am point blank againft him, and Til {hew it: 
 And that my tongue may more politely run, 
 
 Make me a lady Lady Blabington. 
 
 Now, with a rank and title to be free, > 
 
 IM1 make a catechifm and you (hall fee, V. 
 
 What is the veritable Beaume de Vie : J 
 
 As I change place, I ftand for that, or this, 
 My Lady queftions firfb then anfvvers Mifs* 
 
 (She f peaks as my Lady.) 
 
 " Come, tell me, Child, what were our modes and drefs, 
 ' In thofe flrange times of that old fright Queen Befs ?" 
 And now for Mifs 
 
 (She changes place t <d fpeaks for Mi/t.J 
 When Befs was England's quttn t 
 Ladies were difmal beings, feldomfeen ; 
 Ybcy raft betimes, and breakfafted asfoon 
 On beef and beir t thtn ftudied Greek till noon ; 
 Unpointed cheeks with blujh of health did glow 
 Beritjfd and fardingal'd from top to ioe 
 Nor Ktcki, nor ancles would i ' 
 
 Learnt Greek! (laughs.) Ouroutfide head takes half a day; 
 Have we much time to drefs the in/ide, pray? 
 No heads drefs'd a la Grequt; the anciente quote, 
 may be learning iu a fefillctt :
 
 F " 
 
 Cards are our clafkks ; and I, Lady B, J 
 
 In learning will not y's'd to any fhe, 
 
 Of the lare founded female umverfity. j 
 
 But now for Lady Blab - 
 
 (Speaks as my Lady.} 
 
 V T Slr'Wj ftlifs Nancy, 
 * What fports and what employments did they fancy ?" 
 
 ^J*& \lifs.) 
 
 fhe vulgar creatures feldom left their houfes, 
 But^aifght their children, work' ' d, and lov'd their fpoufes^^ 
 The ufe of cards at Chrijlmas only knew, 
 They play 1 d for little* and their games were few, 
 Gne- and- thirty, Put, All fours, and Lantera Lao } 
 tfbefbore a race of mortals flout and honey, 
 And never heard the name of Macarom." 
 
 (Speaks as my Lady,} 
 
 " Oh brava, brava! that's my pretty dear - v 
 " Now let a modern, modilh fair appear; 
 ** No more of thefe old dowdy maids and wives, 
 " Tell how fuperior beings pafs their lives." 
 
 (Speaks as Mifs.) 
 
 Till nocn tbeyjleep, from noon till night they dreft, 
 From night till morn they game it more or le/s, 
 Next night the fame fiueet courfe of joy run o'er, 
 Then the night after as the night before, 
 And the night after that, encore t encore ! " ' j 
 
 (She comes fomvard.) 
 
 Thus with .our cards we Jhufflt off all forrow, ' 
 To morro\v, and to-morrow, and to-morrow ! 
 We ITeal 'apace, from youth imto our prime, 
 To the lait moment of our tabby -iimt ; 
 And all our yeilerdays, from, root and drum, 
 Have lighted fools with empty pockets home. 
 Thus do our lives with rapture roll away, 
 Not with the nonfenfe of our author's play ; 
 This is true lift true fpirit oive it praife; 
 Don't fnarl and figh for good Queen Befs's days: 
 For all you look io four, and bend the brow, 
 You all rejoice with me, you're living now,
 
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