W52 
 1792. 
 
 Cumberland 
 West Indian 
 
 University of California 
 
 Southern Regional 
 
 Library Facility
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 THE 
 
 WEST INDIA N; 
 
 C O M E 
 
 AS IT IS PERFORMED AT THE 
 
 THEATRE ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE. 
 
 NOVUS ;iIC HOSPE3? 
 
 EDITION. 
 
 L O N D O X: 
 
 PRINTED FOR C. DILLY, IM THE POULTRY,

 
 PK 
 
 'Of J. 
 
 9584.73
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 M E N. 
 
 Stockwell, 
 
 Belcour, 
 
 Captain Dudley, 
 Charles Dudley, 
 Major O'Flaherty, 
 Stukely, 
 Fulmer, 
 
 Varland, 
 
 Servant to Stockwell, 
 
 MR. AICKIN. 
 
 MR. KING. 
 ^ MR. PACKER. 
 
 MR. CAUTHERLY. 
 
 MR. MOODY. 
 
 MR. J. AICKIK. 
 
 MR, BADDELY. 
 
 MR. PARSONS. 
 
 MR. WHEELER; 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 Lady Rufporc, MRS. HOPKINS. 
 
 Charlotte Rufport, MRS. ABINGTON. 
 
 Louifa, Daughter to Dudley, MRS. BADDELY. 
 
 Mrs. Fulmer, MRS. EGERTON. 
 
 Lucy, MRS. "LovE. 
 
 Houiekeeper to Stockwell, MRS. BRADSHAW. 
 
 Clerks belonging to Stock w ell, fervantSjfailors, negroes, &c. 
 SCENE, LONDON.
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 SPOKEN BY 
 
 MR. REDDISH. 
 
 CRfTICS, hark forward ! noble game and new ; 
 A fine Weft Indian ftarted full in view : 
 Hot as the foil, the clime, 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, he'll ferve you for another chace ; 
 Forfure that country has no feeble claim, 
 Which fwelis your commerce, and fupports your fame* 
 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 fhores j 
 Doom'd by Religion's too fevere command, 
 To fight for bread againft his native land : 
 A brave, unthinking, animated rogue, 
 With here and there a touch upon the brogue ; 
 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, a&, or write in angry times, 
 A wifli to pleafe is made the worft of crimes ; 
 Dire flander now with black envenom 'd dart, 
 Stands ever arm'd to ftab you to the heart. 
 Roufe, Britons, roufe, for honour of your ifle, 
 Your old good humour j and be feen to fmile. 
 
 You
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 You fay we write not like our fathers true, 
 
 Nore were our fathers half fo ftrift as you, 
 
 Damn'd not each error of the poet's 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 ; 
 
 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 his puny elves, 
 
 The giants then will fally forth themfelves ; 
 
 With wit's {harp weapons vindicate the age, 
 
 And drive ev'n Arthur's magic from the Stage* 
 
 DRAMATIS
 
 THE 
 
 , 
 
 WEST INDIAN. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE 1. 
 
 A MERCHANT'S COMPTING HOUSE! 
 
 Tn fin inner room, fit off' by glafs doors, are difcov cred fever al 
 tierkS) employed at their dejks. A writing table in the 
 front room. STOCKWELL is difc&vered reading a letter \ 
 STUKELY comes gently out of the back room> and objerves 
 him fame time before he [peaks. 
 
 Stukely. T"TE feems difordered: fomething in that .let- 
 JL X ter ; anc ^ l' m afraid of an unpleafant fort. 
 He has many ventures of great a:count at fea ; a fhip 
 richly freighted for Barcelona ; another for Lifbon ; and 
 others expected from Cadiz of ftill greater value. Belides 
 thefe, I know he has many deep concerns in foreign bot- 
 toms, and underwritirigs to a vaft amount. I'll accoli him. 
 Sir! Mr. Stockwell! 
 
 Stock. Stukely ! Well, have you fhip'd the cloths? 
 
 'S~tukely. I have, Sir; here's the bill of lading, and copy 
 of the invoice : the aflbrtments are all compared : Mr. 
 Traffick will give you the policy upon 'Change. 
 
 'Stock. 'Tis very well ; lay thefe papers by ; and no 
 more of butinefs for a while. Shut the door, Stukely ; I 
 have had long proof of your friend (hip and fidelity to me ; 
 a matter of moft intimate concern lies on my mind, and 
 'twill be a fenfible relief to unbofom myfelf to you ; 1 
 have j uft now been informed of the arrival of the young 
 Weft Indian, I have fo long been expedling ; you know 
 who I mean. 
 
 B Stukely,
 
 2 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Stukely. Yes, Sir ; Mr. Bclcour, the young gentleman, 
 who inherited old Belcour's great eftates in Jamaica. 
 
 Stock. Hum, not fo loud ; come a little nearer this way. 
 This Belcour is now in London ; part of his baggage is al- 
 ready arrived ; and I expedr. him every minute. Is it to 
 be wonder'd at, if his coming throws me into fome agita* 
 tion, when I tell you, Stukely, he is my fon ? 
 
 Stukely. Your fon ! 
 
 Stock. Yes, Sir, my only fon ; early in life I accom- 
 panied his grandfather to Jamaica as his clerk ; he had an 
 only daughter, fome what older than myfelf ; the mother 
 of this gentleman : it was my chance (call it good or ill) 
 to engage her affetions : and, as the inferiority of my con- 
 dition made it hopelefs to expert her father's confent, her 
 fondnefs provided an expedient, and we were privately 
 married ; the iffue of that concealed engagement is, as I 
 have told you, this Belcour. 
 
 Stukely. That event, furely, difcovered your connexion, 
 
 Stock. You {hall hear. Not many days after our mar- 
 riage old Belcour fet out for England ; and, during his 
 abode here, my wife was, with great fecrecy, delivered of 
 this fon. Fruitful in expedients to difguife her fituation, 
 without parting from her infant, (he contrived to have it 
 iaid and received at her door as a foundling. After fome 
 time her father returned, having left me here ; in one of 
 thole favourable moments-, that decide the fortunes of pro- 
 fperous men, this child was introduced ; from that inftant, 
 he treated him as his own, gave him his name, and brought 
 him up in his family. 
 
 Stukely. And did you oever reveal this fecret, either to 
 old Belcour, or your fon ? 
 Stock. Never. 
 
 Stukely. Therein you furprize me ; a merchant of your 
 eminence, and a member of the Britifh parliament, might 
 furely afpire, without offence, to the daughter of a planter. 
 In this cafe too, natural affedtion would prompt to a dif- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Stock. Your remark is obvious ; nor could I have per- 
 fifted in this painful faience, but in obedience to the dying 
 injunctions of a beloved wife. This letter, you found me 
 reading, conveyed thofe injunctions to me ; it was dictated 
 in her laft illnefs, andalmoft in the article ofdsath ; (you'll 
 (pare me the recital of it) (he there conjures me, in terms 
 
 as
 
 A C O M E D Y. 3 
 
 as folemn, as they are affecting, never to reveal the fecret 
 of our marriage, or withdraw my fon, while her father 
 furviv'd. 
 
 Stukely. But on what motives did your unhappy lady 
 found thefe injuctions ? 
 
 Stock. Principally, I believe, from apprehenfion on my 
 account, left old Belcour, o whom at her deceafe I 
 wholly depended, fhould withdraw his protection ; in 
 part from confideration of his repofe, as well knowing 
 the difcovery would deeply affect his fpirit, which was 
 haughty, vehement, and unforgiving : and laftly, in re- 
 gard to the intereft of her infant, whom he had warmly 
 adopted ; and for whom, in cafe 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 trufting to the caprice than to the juftice 
 of his grand-father. My judgment has not fuffered by 
 the event ; old Belcour is dead, and has bequeathed his 
 whole eftare to him we are fpeaking of. 
 
 Stukely. Now then you are no longer bound to fecrecy. 
 
 Stock. True : but before I publicly reveal myfelf, I 
 could wifh to make fome experiment of my fon's difpofi- 
 tion : this can only be done by letting his fpirit take its 
 courfe without reftraint ; by thefe means, I think I mall 
 difcover much more of his real character under the tide of 
 his merchant, than 1 fhould under that of his father. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A Sailor enters, ujhcnng in Jeveral black Servants^ carrying 
 psrtmanieauS) trunks, &c. 
 
 Sailor. Save your honour ! is your name Stockwell, 
 pray? 
 
 Stock. It is. 
 
 Sailor. Part of my matter Belcour's baggage an't pleafe 
 you ; there's another cargo not far a-ftern of us ; and the 
 cockfwain has got charge of the dumb creatures. 
 
 Stock. Pr'ythee, friend, what dumb creatures do you 
 fpeak of ; has Mr. Belcour brought over a colkaion of 
 wild beafts ? 
 
 Sailor. No, Lord love him ; no, not he : let me fee ; 
 there's two green monkies, a pair of grey parrots, a Ja- 
 maica fow and pigs, and a Mangrove dog<; that's all. 
 
 B 2 Stock.
 
 --4 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Stock. Is that all ? 
 
 Sailer. Yes, your honour; yes, that's all; blefs his 
 heart a'might have brought over the whole ifland if he 
 would ; a didn't le^ve a dry eye in it. 
 
 Stock. Indeed! StukeJy, (hew 'em where to beftow their 
 baggage. Follow that gentleman. 
 
 Sailor. Come, bear a hand, my lads, bear a hand. 
 
 [Exit with Stukely and Servants. 
 
 Stock. If the principal tallies with his purveyors, he 
 rnuft be a fingular fpeciacle in this place : he has a friend, 
 however, in this fea-faring fellow ; 'tis no bad prognoftic 
 of a man's heart, when his {hip-mates give him a good 
 word, [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Scene changes to a drawing-room, a Servant difc ov ere ^ fitting 
 the chairs, by, &c. a Woman Servant enters to him. 
 
 m/tk. Why, what a fufs does our good matter 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 a flu re 
 you, and only a family dinner as he calls it : why if my 
 Lord Mayor was expedled, there couldn't be a greater to-do 
 about him. 
 
 Servant. I wifli to my heart you had but feen the loads 
 of trunks, boxes, and portmanteaus, he has fent hither. An 
 ambaflador's baggage, with all the fmuggled goods of his 
 family, does not exceed it. 
 
 Houfek. A fine pickle he'll put the houfe into : had he 
 been matter's own fon, and a Chriftian Englifhman, 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 
 fufficient. They fay he has rum and fugar^ enough be- 
 longing to him, to make all the water in the Thames into 
 punch. But I fee my mafter's coming. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 STOCKWELL enters, followed by a Servant. 
 
 Stock. Where is Mr. Belcour ? Who brought this note 
 from him ? 
 
 Servant*
 
 A C O M E D Y. 5 
 
 Servant. A waiter from the London Tavern, Sir; he 
 fays the young gentleman is juft di eft, and will be with 
 you direUy. 
 
 Stock. Shew him in when he arrives. 
 Servant. I mall, Sir. I'll have a peep at him firft, 
 however; I've a great mind to fee this outlandifh fpark. 
 The failor fellow fays he'll make rare doings amongft us. 
 
 {ajide.) 
 
 Stock. You need not wait ; leave me. f Exit Servant. 
 Let me lee (reads.} 
 " SIR, 
 
 *' I write to you under the hands of the hair-drefler ; 
 <{ as foon as I have made myfelf decent, and flipped on 
 '.' fome frefti cloaths, I will have the honour of paying 
 *' you, my devoirs. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " BELCOUR." 
 
 He writers 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 affecting inter- 
 view; when my eyes meet a fon, whom yet they never 
 (aw, where fhall I find conftancy to fupportit? Should 
 he refemble his mother, 1 am overthrown. All the letters 
 I have had from him, (for I induftrioufly drew him into a 
 correfpondence with me) befpeak him of quick and ready 
 tmderftanding. All the reports I ever received, give me 
 favourable imprefiions of his character, wild, perhaps, as 
 the manner of his country is, but, I trufl, not frantic or 
 unprincipled. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 SERVANT enters. 
 Servant. Sir, the foreign gentleman is come. 
 
 Another SERVANT. 
 Servant. Mr. Belcour. 
 
 BELCOUR enters. 
 
 Stock. Mr. Belcour, I'm rejoiced to fee you ; you're 
 welcome to England. 
 
 Bel. I thank you heartily, good Mr. Stockwell ; you 
 and I have long converfed at a diftance ; now we are 
 
 met;
 
 6 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 met ; and the p'eafure this meeting cftves me, amply com- 
 penfates for the perils I have run through in accomplifh- 
 ing it. 
 
 Stock. What perils, Mr. Bclcout? I could not have 
 thought you would have made a bad paffage at this time 
 o'year. 
 
 Bel. Nor did we : courier like, we came porting to 
 your mores, upon the pinions of the fwifteft gales that 
 ever blew; 'tis upon Englifh ground all my difficulties 
 have arifen ; 'tis the paiTage from the river-fide I com- 
 plain of. 
 
 Stock. Ay, indeed ! What obftrudYions can you have 
 met between this and the river-fide ? 
 
 i EeL Innumerable ! Your town's as full of defiles as 
 the Ifland of Corfica ; and, I believe, they are as obfti- 
 nately defended : fo much hurry, buftle, and confufion, 
 on your quays : fb many fugar-caiks, porter-butts, and 
 ! common council-men, in your ftreets, that, unlefs a man 
 marched with artillery in his front, 'tis more than the la- 
 bour of Hercules can effect,, to make any tolerable way 
 through your town. 
 
 Stock. I am forry you have been fo incommoded. 
 
 Bel. Why, faith, 'twas all my own fault : accuftomed 
 to a land of flaves, and out of patience with the whole 
 tribe of cuftom-houfe extortioners, boat-men, tide-waiters, 
 and water-bailiffs, that befet me on all fides, worfe than a 
 fwarm of mufquetaes, 1 proceeded a little too roughly to 
 brufh them away with my rattan ; the fturdy rogues took 
 this in dudgeon, and beginning to rebel, the mob chofe 
 different fides, and a furious feu file enfued ; in the courfe 
 of which, my perfon and apparel fuffered fo much, that I 
 was obliged to ftep into the firft tavern to refit, before I 
 could make my approaches in any decent trim. 
 
 Stock. All without is as I wifh ; dear Nature add the 
 reft, I am happy (afidf.) Well, Mr. Belcour, 'tis a rough 
 fample you have had of my countrymen's fpirit ; but, I 
 truft, you'll not think the worfe of them for it. 
 
 Bel. Not at all, not at all ; I like 'em the -better ; was I 
 only a vifitor, I might, perhaps, wiih them a little more 
 traceable ; but, as a fellow fubjecl, and a fharer in their 
 freedom, I applaud their fpirit, though I feel the effeds of 
 it in every bone of my {kin.
 
 - A C O M E D Y. 7 
 
 Stock. That's well ; I like that well. How gladly I could 
 fall upon his neck, and own myfeif his father ! (afide.) 
 
 Bel. Well, Air. StockweJl, for the firfl 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 confpiring winds have 
 blown me hither to fpend it. 
 
 Stock. To ufe it, not to wafte it, I fhould hope ; to treat 
 it, Mr. Belcour, not as a vaffal, over whom you have a 
 wanton and a defpotic power ; but as a fubjeft, which you 
 are bound to govern with a temperate and reftrained au- 
 thority. 
 
 Ed. True, Sir; mod truly faid ; mine's a commiffion, 
 not a right : I am the offspring of diftrefs, and every child 
 of fonow is my brother ; while I have hands to hold, there- 
 fore, I will hold them open to mankind : but, Sir, my 
 paffions are my matters ; they take me where they will ; 
 and oftentimes they leave to reafon and to virtue nothing 
 but my wifhes and my fighs. 
 
 Stock. Come, come, the man who can accufe corrects 
 himfelf. 
 
 Bel. Ah ! that's an office I am weary of: I wifli a friend 
 would take it up : I would to Heaven you had leifure for 
 the employ ; but, did you drive a trade to the four corners 
 of the world, you would not find the talk fo toilfome as to 
 keep me free from faults. 
 
 Stock. Well, I am not difcouraged : this candour tells 
 me I mould not have the fault of felf-conceit to combat ; 
 that, at leaft, is not amongft the number. 
 
 Bel. 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. 
 
 Stock. And, was I to choofe a pupil, it mould be one of 
 your complexion: fo if you'll come along with me, we'll 
 agree upon your admiffion, and enter on a courfe of lec- 
 tures dire&ly. 
 
 Bel. With all my heart. {Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Scene changes to a room in LADY RUSJ>ORT'S boufe. 
 
 LADY RJJSPORT and CHARLOTTE. 
 L. Ruf. Mifs Rufport, I defire to hear no more of Cap- 
 tain Dudley and his deflitute family : not a (tailing of 
 
 mine
 
 8 TH WEST INDIAN: 
 
 mine fhall ever crofs the hands of any of them : becaufe 
 my fifter chofe to marry a beggar, am I bound to fupport 
 him and his pofterity r 
 
 Char. I think you are. 
 
 L. Ruf. You think I am ; and pray where do you find 
 the law that tells you fo ? 
 
 Char. I am not proficient enough to quote chapter and 
 verfe ; but I take charity to be a mean elaufe in the great 
 flatute of Chriftianity. 
 
 L. Ruf. I fay charity, indeed ! And pray, Mifs, are 
 you fure that it is charity, pure charity, which moves you 
 to plead for Captain Dudley ? Amongft all your pity, do 
 you find no fpice of a certain anti-fpiritual paffion, called 
 love? Don't miftake yourfelf: you are no faint, child* 
 believe me ; and, I am apt to think, the diftreffes of old 
 Dudley, and 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 recom- 
 mendation of a good perlbn, and the brilliant appointments 
 of an enfigncy, will, if I am not miftaken, cozen you out 
 of a fortune of twice twenty thoufand pounds, as foon as 
 ever you are of age to beftow it upon him. 
 
 Char. A nephew of your ladyfhip's can never want any 
 other 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. 
 
 L. Ruf. I condemn you ! I thank Heaven, Mifs Rufport, 
 I am no ways refponfible for your conduct ; nor is it any 
 concern of mine how you difpofe of yourfelf ; you are not 
 my daughter ; and, when I married your father, poor Sir 
 Stephen Rufport, I found you a forward fpoiled Mifs of 
 fourteen, far above being inftru&ed by me. 
 
 Char. Perhaps your ladyship calls this inftru6tion; 
 
 L. Ruf. You're ftrangely pert; but 'tis no wonder: 
 your mother, I'm told was a fine lady ; and according to 
 the modern ftyle of 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 ex- 
 prefles it. Oh ! 'twas an edifying fight, to fee the regular 
 deportment obferved in our family : no giggling, no goffip- 
 ing was going on there ; my good father, Sir Oliver Round- 
 head, never was feen to laugh himfelf, nor ever allowed it 
 in his children. 
 
 Char.
 
 ACOMEDY. 9 
 
 Char. Ay ; thofe were happy times, indeed, 
 L. Ruf. But, in this forward age, we have coquets in 
 the egg-fhell, and philofophers in the cradle ; girls of fif- 
 teen that lead the fafhion in new caps and new opinions, 
 that have their fentiments and their fenfations ; and the idle 
 fops encourage 'em in it : O' my confcience, I wonder 
 what it is the men can fee in fuch babies. 
 
 Char. True, madam ; but all men do not overlook the 
 maturer beauties of your ladyfhip's age, witnefs your ad- 
 mired Major Dennis O' Flaherty ; there's an example of 
 ibme difcernment ; I declare to you, when your ladyfhip is 
 by, the Major takes no more notice of me than if I was 
 part of the furniture of your chamber. 
 
 L. Ruf. The Major, child, has travelled through various 
 kingdoms and cJ' mates, and has more enlarged notions of 
 female merit than falls to the lot of an Englifh home-bred 
 lover; in moft other countries^ no woman on your fide 
 forty would ever be named in a polite circle. 
 
 Char, Right, Madam ; I've been told that in Vienna 
 they have coquets upon crutches, and Venufes in their 
 grand climacteric ; a lover there celebrates the wrinkles, 
 not the dimples in his miftrefs's face. The Major, I think, 
 has ferved in the imperial army. 
 
 L. Ruf. Are you piqu'd, my young madam ? Had my* 
 fifter, Louifa, yielded to the addreffes of one of Major 
 O'Flaherty's perfon and appearance, fhe would have had 
 fome excufe : but to run away, as fhe did, at the age of 
 
 fixteen too, with a man of old Dudley's fort 
 
 Char. Was, in my opinion, the moft venial trefpafs that 
 ever girl of fixteen committed ; of a noble family, an en- 
 gaging perfon, ftridl honour, and found understanding, what 
 accompliflitnent was there wanting in Captain Dudley, but 
 that which the prodigality of his anceftors had deprived 
 him of? 
 
 L. Ruf. They left him as much as he deferves ; hasn't 
 the old man captain's half pay ? And is not the fon an 
 enfign ? 
 
 Char. An enfign ! Alas, poor Charles ! Would to 
 Heaven he knew what my heart feels and fuffers for his 
 fake. - 
 
 SERVANT enters. 
 
 Str. Enfign Dudley to wait upon your ladyfhip. 
 C L.
 
 io THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 L. Ruf. Who ! Dudley ! What can have brought him 
 to town r 
 
 Char. Dear madam, 'tis Charles Dudley, 'tis your ne- 
 phew. 
 
 L. Ruf. Nephew ! I renounce him as my nephew ; Sir 
 Oliver renounced him as his grandfon ; was'nt he fon of 
 the eldeft daughter, and only male defcendant of Sir Oli- 
 ver ; and didn't he cut him off with a (hilling ? Didn't the 
 poor dear good old man leave his fortune to me, except a 
 fmall annuity to my maiden fifter, who fpoiled her confli- 
 tution with nurting him ? And, depend upon it, not a 
 penny of that fortune (hall ever be difpofed of othervvife 
 than according to the will of the donor. (CHARLES 
 DUDLEY enters.} ' So young man, whence came you? 
 
 What brings you to town ? 
 Charles. If t 
 
 there is any offence in my coming to town, 
 your Jadyftiip is in fome degree refponfible for it, for part 
 of my errand was to pay my duty here. 
 
 L. Ruf. I hope you have fome better excufe than all this. 
 
 Charles. 'Tis true, madam, I have other motives ; but, 
 if I confider my trouble repaid by the pleafure 1 now enjoy, 
 I mould hope my aunt would not think my company the 
 lefs welcome for the value I fet upon her's. 
 
 L. Ruf. Coxcomb ! And where is your father, child ; 
 and your fitter ? Are they in town too ? 
 
 Charles. They are. 
 
 L. Ruf. Ridiculous ! I don't know what people do in 
 London, who have no money to fpend in it. 
 
 Char. Dear madam, fpeak more kindly to your nephew ; 
 how can you opprefs a youth of his fenfibility ? 
 
 L. Ruf. Mifs Rufport, I infift upon your retiring to 
 your apartment ; when I want your advice I'll fend to you. 
 (Exit CHARLOTTE ) So you have put on a red coat too, 
 as well as your father ; 'tis plain what value you fet upon 
 the good advice Sir Oliver ufed to give you ; how often has 
 he caution'd you againft the army ? 
 
 Charles. Had it pleafed my grandfather to enable me to 
 have obeyed his caution, I would have done it ; but you 
 well know how deftitute 1 am ; and 'tis not to be wonder'd 
 at if I prefer the fervice of my king to that of any other 
 m after. 
 
 L. Ruf. Well, well, take your own courfe ; 'tis no con- 
 cern of mine: you never confiilted me. 
 
 Charles.
 
 A C O M E D Y. ii 
 
 Charles. I frequently wrote to your ladyfliip, but could 
 obtain no anfwer ; and, flnce my grandfather's death, this 
 is the firft opportunity I have had of waiting upon you. 
 
 L. Ruf. I muft defire you not to mention the death of 
 that dear good man in my hearing, my fpirits cannot fup- 
 port it. 
 
 Charles. I {hall obey you : permit me fay, that, as that 
 event has richly fupplied you with the materials of bounty, 
 the diftreffes of my family can furnifh you with objects of it. 
 
 L. Ruf. The diftreffes of your family, child, are quite 
 out of the queftion at prefent ; had Sir Oliver been pleafed 
 to confider them, I mould have been well content ; but 
 he has abfolutely taken no notice of you in his will, and 
 that to me muft and ihall be a law. Tell your father and 
 your fifter I totally difapprove of their coming up to towr.. 
 
 Charles. Muft I tell my father that before your ladyfhip 
 knows the motive that brought him hither ? Allur'd by the 
 offer of exchanging for a commiffion on full pay, the ve- 
 teran, 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. 
 
 Ser, Major O'Flaherty to wait on your ladymip. 
 MAJOR enters. 
 
 Q'Flq. Spare your fpeeches, young man ; don't you 
 think her ladyfhip can take my word for that ? I hope, 
 madam, 'tis evidence enough of my being prefent, when 
 I've the honor of telling you fo myfelf. 
 
 L. Ruf. Major O'Flaherty, I am rejoiced to fee you. 
 Nephew Dudley, you perceive I'm engaged. 
 
 Charles. I ftiall not intrude upon your ladyfhip's more 
 agreeable engagements. I prefume I have my anfwer. 
 
 L. Ruf. Your anfwer, child ! What anfwer can you 
 poffibly expeft ; or how can your romantic father fuppofe 
 that I am to abet him in all his idle and extravagant un- 
 dertakings ? Come, Major, let me fliew you the way into 
 my drefling-room ; and let us leave this young adventurer 
 to his meditation. [Exit. 
 
 O'Fla. I follow you, my lady. Young gentleman, your 
 obedient ! Upon my contcience, as fine a young fellow 
 ' * - ' eves on : he might have an- 
 
 C 2 fwev'd 
 
 ODcUICIll ! opuil HI} v_wiii^.n-ii^*-, o "' j~ _ 
 
 as 1 wou'd wifti to clap my eyes on : he might have an
 
 12 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 fwer'd my falute, however well, let it pafs ; Fortune, 
 perhaps, frowns upon the poor lad ; fhe's a damn'd flip 
 pery lady, and very apt to jilt us poor fello\vs, that wear 
 cockades 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 flint ; yet that woman, that aunt of mine, 
 without one worthy particle in her competition, wou'd, I 
 dare be fworn, as foon fet her foot in a pcft-houfe, as in a 
 play-houfe. 
 
 (Miss Ru SPORT enters to him.) 
 
 Char. Stop, flay a little, Charles, whither are you going 
 in fuch hafte ? 
 
 Charles. Madam ; Mifs Rufport ; what are your com- 
 mands ? 
 
 Char. Why fo referved ? We had ufed to anfwer to no 
 other names than thofe of Charles and Charlotte. 
 
 Charle*. What ails you ? You've been weeping. 
 
 Char. No, no ; or if I have^ your eyes are full too ; but 
 1 have a thoufand things to fay to you : before you go, tell 
 me, I conjure you, where you are to be found ; here, give 
 me your direction ; write it upon the back of this vifiting- 
 ticket Have you a pencil ? 
 
 Charles. I have : but why fhou'd you defire to find us 
 out ? 'tis a poor little inconvenient place ; my fifter has no 
 apartment fit to receive you in. 
 
 SERVANT enters. 
 
 Serv. Madam, my lady defires your company directly. 
 
 Char. I am coming well, have you wrote it ? Give it 
 me. O Charles ! either you do not, or you will not un- 
 derftand me, (Exeunt fever ally.} 
 
 END OF THE FIRST ACT.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 A ROOM IN FULMER'S HOUSE. 
 
 FULMER fltf^MRS. FULMER. 
 
 Mrs. Jw/. "TTTHY, how you fit, mufing and mopeing, 
 \y %hing and defponding ! I'm afhamed 
 of you, Mr. Fulmer : is this the country you defcribed to 
 me, a fecond Eldorado, rivers of gold and rocks of dia- 
 monds ? You found me in a pretty fnug retir'd way of life 
 at Bologne, out of the noife and buftle of the world, and 
 wholly at my eafe ; you, indeed, was upon the wing, with 
 a fiery perfecution at your back . but like a true fon of 
 Loyola^ you had then a thoufand ingenious devices to re- 
 pair your fortune: and this, your native country was to be 
 the fcene of your performances : fool that I was, to be in- 
 veigled into it by you : but, thank Heaven, our partner- 
 fhip is revocable ; I am not your wedded wife, praifed be 
 my ftars ! for what have we got, whom have we gull'cl but 
 ourfelves; which of all your trains has taken fire; even 
 this poor expedient of your bcokfeller's fhop feeins aban- 
 doned ; for if a chance cuftomer drops in, who is there, 
 pray, to help him to what he wants? 
 
 Ful. Patty, you know it is not upon flight grounds that 
 I defpair ; there had us'd to be a livelihood to be pick'd up 
 in this country, both for the honeft and difhoneft : I have 
 tried each walk, and am likely to ftarve at laft : there is not 
 a point to which the wit and faculty of man can turn, that 
 I have not let mine to; but in vain, I am beat through 
 every quarter of the compafs. 
 
 Jlfrs. FuL Ah ! common efforts all : ftrike me a mafter- 
 ftroke, Mr. Fulmer, if you wiih to make any figure in this 
 country. 
 
 FuL But where, how, and what? I have blufter'd for 
 prerogative ; I have bellow 'd for freedom ; I have ofFer'd 
 to ferve my country ; I have engaged to betray it ; a 
 mafler-ftroke, truly ; why, I have talked treafon, writ trea- 
 fon, and if a man can't live by that he can Jive by nothing. 
 Here I fet up as a bookfeller, why men left off reading; 
 and if I was to turn butcher, I believe, o'my confcience 
 they'd leave off eating. 
 
 CAPT.
 
 I 4 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 (CAPT. DUDLEY croffes thejlage.} 
 
 Mrs Ful. Why there now's your lodger, old Captain 
 Dudley, as he calls himfelf ; there's no flint without fire ; 
 fomething might be ftruck out of him, if you'd the wit to 
 find the way. 
 
 Ful. Hang him, an old dry fkin'd curmudgeon ; you 
 may "as well think to get truth out of a courtier, or can- 
 dour out of a critic : I can make nothing of him ; befides, 
 he's poor, and therefore not for our purpofe. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. The more fool he ! Would any man be poor 
 that had fuch a prodigy in his poffeffion ? 
 
 Ful. His daughter, you mean ; fhe is, indeed, uncom- 
 monly beautiful. 
 
 Mrs. Fuf. Beautiful ! Why fhe need only be feen, to 
 have the firft men in the kingdom at her feet. Egad, I 
 wifh I had the leafing of her beauty ; what would fome of 
 our young Nabobs give ? 
 
 Ful. Hum ! here comes the Captain ; good girl, leave us 
 to ourfelves, and let me try what I can make of him. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Captain, truly ! i'faith I'd have a regiment, 
 had I fuch a daughter, before I was three months older. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 CAPTAIN DUDLEY enters to him. 
 
 Ful. Captain Dudley, good morning to you. 
 
 Dud. Mr. Fulmer, I have borrowed a book from your 
 mop; 'tis the flxth volume of mydeceafed friend Triftram ; 
 he is a flattering writer to us poor foldiers ; and the divine 
 ftory of Le Fevre, which makes part of this book, in my 
 opinion of it, does honour not to its author only, but to hu- 
 man nature. 
 
 Ful. He's an author I keep in the way of trade, But one 
 I never relifh'd : he is much too loofe and profligate for my 
 tafte. 
 
 Dud. That's being too fevere : I hold him to be a mo- 
 ralift in the nobleft fenfe ; he plays indeed with the fancy, 
 and fometimes perhaps too wantonly ; but while he thus 
 delignedly mafks his main attack, he comes at once upon 
 the heart ; refines, amends it, foftens it ; beats down each 
 fclfifh barrier from about it, and opens every fluice of pity 
 and benevolence. 
 
 Ful. We of the catholic perfuafion are not much bound 
 
 to
 
 A C O M E DY. 15 
 
 to him. Well, Sir, I (hall not oppofe your opinion ; 
 a favourite author is like a favourite miftrefs ; and there, 
 you know, Captain, no man likes to have his tafte ar- 
 raigned. 
 
 Dud. Upon my word, Sir, I don't know what a man 
 likes in that cafe ; 'tis an experiment I never made. 
 
 Ful. Sir ! Are you ferious ? 
 
 Dud. 'Tis of little confequence whether you think fb. 
 
 Ful. What a formal old prig it is ! (a/ide.) I apprehend 
 you, Sir ; you fpeak with caution ; you are married? 
 
 Dud. I have been. 
 
 Ful. And this young lady, which accompanies you 
 
 Dud. Pafles for my daughter. 
 
 Ful. Pafles for his daughter ! humph (qfide.) She is 
 exceedingly beautiful, finely accomplished, of a moft en- 
 chanting fhape and air. 
 
 Dud. You are much too partial ; me has the greateft 
 defe<St a woman can have. 
 
 Ful. How fo, pray? 
 
 Dud. She has no fortune. 
 
 Ful. Rather fay that you have none ; and that's a fore 
 defect in one of your years, Captain Dudley: you've 
 ferved, no doubt ? 
 
 Dud. Familiar coxcomb ! But I'll humour him. (a/tde.) 
 
 Ful A clofe old fox ! But I'll unkennel him. (afide.) 
 
 Dud. Above thirty years I've been in the fervice, Mr. 
 Fulmer. 
 
 Ful. I guefs'd as much ; I laid it at no lefs : why 'tis a 
 wearifome time ; 'tis an apprenticeship to a profeffion, fit 
 only for a patriarch. But preferment mufc be clofely fol- 
 lowed : you never could have been fo far behind hand in 
 the chace, 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. 
 
 Dud. It may be fo ; and you, perhaps, can give me bet- 
 ter council. I'm now foliciting a favour ; an exchange to 
 a company on full pay ; nothing more ; and yet I meet a 
 thoufand bars to that ; tho', without boafting, I mould 
 think the certificate of fervices, \\vhich I fent in, might 
 have purchafed that indulgence to me. 
 
 Ful. Who thinks or cares about 'em? Certificate of 
 fervices, indeed ! Send in a certificate of your fair daugh- 
 ter; carry her in vour hand with you. 
 
 Dud.
 
 16 THE WEST INDfAN: 
 
 Dud. What ! Who ! My daughter ! Carry my daugh* 
 1 ter ! Well, and what then ? 
 
 Ful. Why, then your fortune's made, that's all. 
 
 Dud. I underftand you : and this you call knowledge of 
 the world ? Defpicable knowledge ; but, firrah, I will have 
 you know (threatening him.) 
 
 FuL Help ! Who's within? Wou'd you ftrike me, Sir? 
 wou'd you lift up your hand againft a man in his own, 
 houfe ? 
 
 Dud. In a church, if he dare infult the poverty of a man 
 of honour. 
 
 Ful. 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. 
 
 Dud. Go, Sir ; you are too mean for my refentment : 
 'tis that, and not the law, protects you. Hence ! 
 
 FuL An old, abfurd, incorrigible blockhead ! I'll be 
 reveng'd of him. (a/ide.) 
 
 SCENE III. 
 YOUXG DUDLEY enters to him. 
 
 Charles. What is the matter, Sir ? Sure I heard an out- 
 cry as I enter'd the houfe. 
 
 Dud. Not unlikely ; our landlord and his wife are for 
 ever wrangling. Did you find your aunt Dudley at home? 
 
 Charles. I did. 
 
 Dud. And what was your reception ? 
 
 Charles. Cold as our poverty and her pride could make it. 
 
 Dud. You told her the preffing occafion I had for a 
 fmall fupply to equip me for this exchange ; has fhe 
 granted me the relief I afked ? 
 
 Charles. Alas ! Sir, (he has peremptorily refufed it. 
 
 Dud. That's hard ; that's hard, indeed ! My petition 
 was for a fmall fum ; me 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 ; t 
 can raife no money, fo fatal is the climate : alas ! that ever 
 cny father ihould be fent to perifh in fuch a place ! 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Miss DUDLEY enters hajlily. 
 
 Dud. Louila, what's the matter ? you feem frighted. 
 
 Lou.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 17 
 
 Lou. I am, indeed : coming from Mifs Rufport's, I met 
 a young gentleman in the ftreets, who has befet me in the 
 ftrangeft manner. 
 
 Charles. InfufferablfcJ Was he rude to you ? 
 
 Lou. 1 cannot fay he was abfolutely rude to me, but he 
 was very importunate to fpeak to me, and once or twice 
 attempted to lift up my hat ; he follow'd me to the corner 
 of the ftreet, and there I gave him the flip. 
 
 Dud. You muft walk no more in the ftreets, child, 
 without me, or your brother. 
 
 Lou. O Charles ! Mifs Rufport defires to fee you di- 
 rectly; Lady Rufport is gone out, and fhe has fomething 
 particular to fay to you. 
 
 Charles. Have you any commands for me, Sir ? 
 
 Dud. None, my dear; by all means wait upon Mifs 
 Rufport. Come, Louifa; I fhalldefire you to go up to your 
 chamber, and compote yourfelf. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 BELCOUR enters, after peeping in at the door. 
 
 Eel. Not a foul, as I'm alive. Why, what an odd fort of 
 a houfe is this ! Confound the little jilt, (he has fairly given 
 me the flip. A plague upon this London, I fhall have no luck 
 in it: fuch 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, or whether fhe went up 
 Hairs or down flairs, (for there's a world above and a world 
 belovy, it feems) I declare, I know no more than if I was 
 in the Blue Mountains. In the name of all the devils- at 
 once, why did fhe run away ? If every handfome 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.'* 
 
 Hum ! hum ! here fhe comes ! Oh J the devil 1 WTiat 
 tawdry thing have we got here ? 
 
 MRS. FULMER enters to him. 
 
 Mrs Ful. Your humble fervant, Sir. 
 Bel. Your humble fervant, Madam. 
 
 D Mrs. Ful.
 
 18 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Mrs. Ful. A fine fummer's day, Sir. 
 
 Bel. Yes, Ma'am, and fo cool, that if the calendar 
 didn't call it July, I fhould fwear it was January. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Sir!. 
 
 Be!. Madam ! 
 
 jVjrs. Ful. Do you wifli to fpeak to Mr. Fulmer, Sir ? 
 
 Eel. Mr. Fulmer, Madam ? I havn't the honour of 
 knowing fuch a perfon. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. 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* 'Tis the Captain, I fuppofe, you are 
 waiting for. 
 
 Bel. I rather fufpeft it is the Captain's wife. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. The Captain has no wife, Sir. 
 
 Bel. No wife ! I'm heartily forry for it ; for then fhe's 
 his miftrefs ; and that I 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 1 wifhed to fpeak. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. What fort of a lady, pray ? 
 
 Bel. One of the lovelieft fort my eyes ever beheld ; 
 young, tall, frefh, fair ; in fhort, a goddefs. 
 
 M: j Fit!* Nay, but dear, dear Sir, now I'm fure you 
 flatter ; for 'twas me you followed into the fhop door this 
 minute. 
 
 Bel. You ! No, no, take my word for it, it was not you, 
 Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. But what is it you laugh at ? 
 
 Bel. Upon my foul, I afk your pardon ; but it was not 
 you, believe me ; be affur'd it wasn't. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. 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 firlt man that notic'd me in the ftrcets; 
 however, this I'm pofitive of, that no living woman but 
 myfelf has enter'd thefe doors this morning. 
 
 Bel. 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. Ful. Coxcomb ! But hold a thought occurs ; as 
 fure as can be he has feen Mils Dudley. A word with 
 you, young gentleman ; come back. 
 
 Bel. Well, what's your pleafure ? 
 Mrs. Ful. You feem greatly captivated with this young 
 lady ; are you apt to fall in love thus atfirft fight ?
 
 A C O M E D Y. 19 
 
 Bel. Oh, yes : 'tis the only way I can ever fall in love ; 
 nny man may tumble into a pit by furprife, none but a 
 fool would walk into one by choice. 
 
 * Mrs. Ful. 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. 
 
 Bel. Try me ; put me to the proof; bring me to an in- 
 terview with the dear girl that has thus captivated me, 
 and fee whether I have fpirit to be grateful. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. But how, pray, am I to know the girl you 
 have fet your heart on ? 
 
 Bel. By an uadefcribable grace, that accompanies every 
 look and acYion that falls from her ; there can be but one 
 fuch woman in the world, and nobody can miftake that 
 one. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Well, if I mould ftumble upon this angel in 
 my walks, where am I to find you ? What's your name ? 
 
 Bel. Upon my foul I can't tell you my name. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Not tell me ! Why fo? 
 
 Bel, Becaufe I don't know what it is myfelf ; as yet I 
 have no name. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. No name ! 
 
 Bel. None \ a friend, indeed, lent me his ; but he 
 forbad me to ufe it on any unworthy occafion. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. But where is your place of abode ? 
 
 Bel. I have none ; I never flept a night in England in 
 my life. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Hey-day ! 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 FULMER enters. 
 
 Ful 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. Ful. Who has aflaulted you, my dear ? 
 
 Ful. Who ! why this Captain Drawcanfir, this old 
 Dudley, my lodger ; but I'll unlodge him ; I'll unharbour 
 him, I warrant. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Hum ! hu(h ! Hold yourtongueman ; pocket 
 the affront, and be quiet ; I've a fcheme on foot will 
 pay you a hundred beatings. Why you furprize me, 
 Mr. Fulmer ; Captain Dudley aflault you ! ImpofTible. 
 
 D 2 fttl.
 
 20 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Ful. Nay, I can't call it an abfolute aflault ; but h e 
 threatened me. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Oh, was that all ? I thought how it would 
 turn out A likely thing, truly, for a perfon of his oblig- 
 ing compaffionate turn: no, no, poor Captain Dudley, 
 he has (brrows and diftrefles enough of his own to employ 
 his fpirits, without fetting them againft other people. 
 Make it up as faft as you can: watch this gentleman out ; 
 follow him wherever he goes ; and bring me word who 
 and what he is ; be fure you don't lofe fight of him ; I've 
 other bufmefs in hand. Exit.] 
 
 Bel. Pray, Sir, what forrows and diftrefles have befallen 
 this old Gentleman you fpeak of? 
 
 Ful. Poverty, difappointment, and all the diftrefles at- 
 tendant thereupon : forrow enough of all confcience : I 
 foon found how it was with .him by his way of living, low 
 enough of all reafon ; but what I overheard this morning 
 put it out of all doubt. 
 
 Bel. What did you overhear this morning ? 
 
 Ful. Why, it feems he wants to join his regiment, and 
 has been beating the town over to raife a little money for 
 that purpofe upon his pay ; but the climate, 1 find, where 
 he is going, is fo unhealthy, that nobody can be found to 
 lend him any. 
 
 Bel. Why then your town is a damn'd good for-nothing 
 town : and I wifh I had never come into it. 
 
 Ful. That's what I fay, Sir; the hard-heartednefs of 
 fome folks is unaccountable. There's an old Lady Rufport, 
 a near relation of this gentleman's ; fhe lives hard by here, 
 oppofite to StockwelFs, the great merchant ; he ferit to her 
 a begging, but to no purpofe ; though fhe is as rich as a 
 Jew, (he would not furnifh him with a farthing. 
 
 Bel. Is the Captain at home ? 
 
 Ful. He is up flairs, Sir, 
 
 Bel. Will you take the trouble to defire him to ftep 
 hither? I want to fpeak to him. 
 
 Ful. I'll fend him to you directly. I don't know what to 
 make of this young man; but, if I live, I will find him 
 out, or know the reafon why. [Exit. 
 
 Bel. I've loft the girl it feems; that's clear: fhe was the 
 firft objedtof my purfuit; but the cafe of this poor officer 
 touches me ; and, after all, there may be as much true 
 delight in refcuing a fellow creature from diftrefs, as there 
 
 would
 
 A C O M E D Y. 21 
 
 would be in plunging one into it But let me fee ; it's a 
 
 point that muft be managed with fome delicacy A propos I 
 there's pen and ink I've ftruck upon a method that will 
 do (writes.} Ay, ay, this is the very thing : 'twas deviiifh 
 lucky I happen'd to have thefe bills about me. There, 
 there, fare you well ; I'm glad to be rid of you ; you flood 
 a chance of being worfe applied, I can tell you (enclofes 
 andfeah the paper.) 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 FULMER brings in DUDLEY. 
 
 Ful. That's the gentleman, Sir. I {hall make bold, 
 however, to lend an ear. 
 
 Dud. Have you any commands for me, Sir? 
 
 Bel. Your name is Dudley, Sir ? 
 
 Dud. It is. 
 
 Bel. You command a company, I think, Captain 
 Dudley ? 
 
 Dud. I did : I am now upon half-pay. 
 
 Bel. You've ferv'd fome time ? 
 
 Dud. A pretty many years ; long enough to fee fome 
 people of more merit, and better intereft than myfelf, 
 made general officers. 
 
 Bel. Their merit I may have fome doubt of; their in- 
 tereft I can readily give credit to ; there is little promotion 
 to be looked for, in your profeffion, I believe, without 
 friends, Captain ? 
 
 Dud. I believe fo too: have you any other bufmefs 
 with me, may I afk ? 
 
 Bel. Your patience for a moment. I was informed you 
 was about to join your regiment in diftant quarters abroad. 
 
 Dud. I have been foliciting an exchange to a company 
 on full-pay, quarter'd at James's-Fort, in Senegambia ; 
 but, I'm afraid, I muft drop the undertaking. 
 
 Bel. Why fo, pray ? 
 
 Dud. Why fo, Sir? 'Tisa home-queftion for a perfect 
 flranger to put ; there is fomething very particular in all 
 this. 
 
 Bel. If it is not impertinent, Sir, allow me to afk you 
 what reafon you have for defpairing of fuccefs. 
 
 Dud. Why really, Sir, mine is an obvious reafon for a 
 foldier to have Want of money ; fimply that. 
 
 Bel.
 
 22 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Bel. May I beg to know the fum you have occaflon for ? 
 
 Dud. Truly, Sir, I cannot exactly tell you on a fudden ; 
 
 nor is it, I fuppofe, of any great confequence to you to be 
 
 informed ; but I fhouldguefs, in the grofs, that two hundred 
 
 pounds would ferve. 
 
 Bel. And do you find a difficulty in raifing that furn 
 upon your pay ? 'Tis done every day. 
 
 Dud. The nature of the climate makes it difficult : I 
 can get no one to infure my life. 
 
 e/. Oh ! that's a circutnflance 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 
 no farther ; I'll accomodate you with it upon eafy terms. 
 
 Dud. Sir ! do I underftand you rightly ? I beg your 
 pardon ; but am I to believe that you are in earneft ? 
 
 Bel. What is your furprize ? Is it an uncommon thing 
 for a gentleman to fpeak truth ? Or is it incredible that one 
 fellow creature ihould affift another ? 
 
 Dud. I afk your pardon May I beg to know to whom ? 
 Do you propofe this in the way of bufmefs? 
 
 Bel. Entirely: I have no other bufmefs on earth. 
 Dud. Indeed ! you are not a broker, I'm perfuaded. 
 Bel. I am not. 
 
 Dud. Nor an army agent I think ? 
 Bel. I hope you will not think the worfe of me for being 
 neither ; in fhort, Sir, if you will perufe this paper, it will 
 explain to you who I am, and upon what terms I a6l ; 
 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 haftily. 
 
 Dud. Humph ! there's fomething very odd in all this 
 Jet 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 won- 
 der, 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 
 fhow me. " Accept this trifle ; purfue your fortune, and 
 profper." Am I in a dream ? Is this a reality ? 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 Enter MAJOR O'FLAHERTY. 
 Ma. Save you, my dear ! Is it you now that are Captain 
 
 Dudley, I would afk ? Whuh ! What's the hurry the 
 
 man's
 
 A C O M E D Y. 23 
 
 man's in ? If 'tis the lad that run out of the {hop you 
 would overtake, you might as well flay where you are ; by 
 my foul he's as nimble as a Croat, you are a full hour's 
 march in his rear Ay, faith, you may as well turn back, 
 and give over the purfuit ; 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 have done. 
 
 Dud. More miracles on foot ! So, fo, from Lady Rufport. 
 
 G'Fla. You're right ; it's from her ladyihip. 
 
 Dud. Well, Sir, I have caft my eye over it; 'tis fliort 
 and peremptory; are you acquainted with the contents? 
 
 O'F/a. Not at all, my dear ; not at all. 
 
 Dud. Have you any meflage from Lady Rufport ? 
 
 G'Fla. Not a fyllable, honey: only, when you've di- 
 gefted the letter, I've a little bit of a meflfage to deliver 
 you from myfelf. 
 
 Dud. And may I beg to know who yourfelf is ? 
 
 O'F/a. Dennis O'Flaherty, at your fervice ; a poor 
 major of grenadiers ; nothing better. 
 
 Dud. So much for your name and title, Sir ; now be fo 
 good to favour me with your meflage. 
 
 G'Fla. Why then, Captain, I mufttell you I have pro- 
 mifed Lady Rufport you mall do whatever it is me bids you 
 to do in that letter there. 
 
 Dud. Ay, indeed ; have you undertaken fo much, Ma- 
 jor, without knowing either what me commands, or what 
 I can perform ? 
 
 G'Fla. That's your concern, my dear, not mine; I 
 muft keep my word, you know, 
 
 Dud. Or elfe, I fuppofe, you and I muflmeafure fwords. 
 
 G'Fla. Upon my foul you've hit it. 
 
 Dud. That would hardly anfwer to either of us ; you 
 and I have, probably, had enough of righting in our time 
 before now. 
 
 G'Fla. Faith and troth, Matter Dudley, you may fay that ; 
 ? tis thirty years, come the time, that I have followed the 
 trade, and in a pretty many countries. Let me fee In 
 the war before laft I ferv'd in the Irifh brigade, d'ye fee ; 
 there, after bringing off the French monarch, I left his 
 fervice, with a Britifh bullet in my body, and this ribband 
 in my button-hole. Laft war I followed the fortunes cf 
 the German eagle, in the corps of grenadiers ; there I had 
 my belly full of righting, and a plentiful fcarcity of every 
 
 thing
 
 24 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 thing elfe. After fix and twenty engagements, great and 
 fmalJ, I went off with this gafh on my fcull, and a kifs of 
 the Emprefs Queen's fweethand, (Heaven blefs it !) for my 
 pains. Since, the peace, my dear, I took 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 were fcuffling about. 
 
 Dud. Well, Major, t won't add another ation to the lift, 
 you fhall keep your promife with Lady Rufnort ; fhe re- 
 quires me to leave London ; I fhall go in a few days, and 
 you may take what credit you pleafe from my compliance. 
 
 O'.F/fl. Give me your hand, my deal boy ! this will make 
 her my own ; when that's the cafe, we fhall be brothers, 
 you know, and we'll (hare her fortune between us. 
 
 Dud. Not fo, Major ; the man who marries Lady Ruf- 
 port will have a fair tide to her whole fortune without di- 
 vifion. But, I hope, your expectations of prevailing are 
 founded upon good reafons. 
 
 O'F/a. Upon the beft grounds jn the world ; firfr, I think 
 fhe will comply, .becaufe fhe is a woman ; fecondly, I am 
 perfuaded fhe won't hold out long, becaufe fhe s a widow: 
 and thirdly, I make fure ot her, becaufe I've married five 
 wives, (en mi/itatre, Captain) and never failed yet; and, for 
 what I know, they're all alive and merry at this very hour. 
 
 Dud. 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 muft beg your ex- 
 cufe : good morning to you. [Exit. 
 
 O'Fla. A good fenfible man, and very much of a foldier ; 
 I did not care if I was better acquainted with him : hut 'tis 
 an aukward kind of country for that ; the EngLfh, I ob- 
 ferve, are clofe friends, but diftant acquaintance. I fufpedt 
 the old lady has not been over-generous to poor Dudley ; 
 I fhall 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. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 Scene changes to LADY RUSPORT'S houfe. A dreffing-room. 
 
 Miss RUSPORT and LUCY. 
 
 . Char. Well, Lucy, you've diflodg'd the old lady at laft ; 
 tut methoughtyou was a tedious time about it. 
 
 Lucy.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 25 
 
 Lucy. A tedious time, indeed ; I think they who have 
 leaft to (pare, contrive to throw the moft away , I thought 
 I fliou'd never have got her out of the houfe. 
 
 Char. Why, fhe's as deliberate in canvafling every ar- 
 ticle of her drefs, as an ambafTador would be in fettling the 
 preliminaries of a treaty. 
 
 Lucy. There was a new hood and handkerchief, that 
 had come exprefs from Holborn-Hill on the occafion, that 
 took as much time in adjufting 
 
 Char. As they did in making, and (he was as vain of 
 them as an old maid of a young lover. 
 
 Lucy. Or a young lover of himfelf. Then, madam, 
 this being a vifit of great ceremony to a perfon of diftinc- 
 tion, at the Weft end of the town, the old ftate chariot 
 was dragg'd forth on the occafion, with ftri<5t charges to 
 drefs out the box with the leopard-ikin hammer-cloth. 
 
 Char. Yes, and to hang the falfe tails on the miferable 
 flumps of the old crawling cattle. Well, well, pray Hea- 
 ven the crazy affair don't break down again with her ! at 
 
 leafr till fhe gets to her journey's end. But where's 
 
 Charles Dudley ? Run down, dear girl, and be ready to 
 Jet him in ; 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, I rnuft fay. [Exit. 
 
 Char. Now the deuce take the girl for putting that no- 
 tion into my head : I'm fadly, afraid Dudley does not like 
 me ; fo much encouragement as I have given him to de- 
 clare himfelf, I never could get a word from him on the 
 fubjeft ! 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 glafs ; and {he has left fome of her 
 wrinkles on it. How frightfully have I put on my cap ! 
 all awry ! and my hair drefs'd fo unbecoming ! altogether, 
 I'm a moft complete fright. 
 
 SCENE X. 
 (CHARLES DUDLEY comes in unolferved.) 
 
 Charles. That I deny. 
 Char. Ah! 
 
 Charles. Quarrelling with your glafs, coufin ? Make it 
 & up;
 
 26 THE WEST INDIAN. 
 
 up ; make it up and be friends ; it cannot compliment yoti 
 more than by reflecting you as you are. 
 
 Char. Well, I vow, my dear Charles, that is delight- 
 fully faid, and deferves my very beft curt'fy : 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 perfort 
 in your life. 
 
 Charles. And I ought to aik pardon of your good fenfe 
 for having done it now. 
 
 Char. Nay, now you relapfe again : don't you know, if 
 you keep well with a woman on the great fcore of beauty, 
 fhe'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 coufm ; you have brighter moments, and 
 warmer fpirits, for the dear girl of your heart. 
 
 Charles. Oh ! he upon you, fie upon you. 
 
 Char. You blufh, and the reafon is apparent: you are a 
 novice at hypocrify ; but no practice can make a vifit of 
 ceremony pafs for a vifit of choice : love is ever before its 
 time ; friendmip is apt to lag a little after it ; pray, Charles, 
 did you make any extraordinary hafte hither ? 
 
 Cbarle*. By your queilion, I fee you acquit me of the 
 impertinence of being in love. 
 
 Char. But why impertinence ? Why the impertinence 
 of being in love ? You have one language for rne, Charles, 
 and another for the woman of your afFecYion. 
 
 Charles. You are miftaken ; the woman of my afFecTion 
 fhall never hear any other language from me than what I 
 ufe to you. 
 
 Char. I am afraid then you'll never make yourfelf under- 
 ftood by her. 
 
 Charles. It is not fit I /hould ; there is no need of love to 
 make me miferable ; 'tis wretchednefs enough to be a beggar. 
 
 Char. A beggar, do you call yourfelf! O Charles, 
 Charles, rich in every merit and accompliftiment, whom 
 may you not afpire to? And why think you fo unworthily 
 of our fex, as to conclude there is not one to be found 
 with fenfe to difcern your virtue, and generofity tore- 
 ward it ? 
 
 Charles. You diflrefs me ; I muft beg to hear no more. 
 
 Char. Well, I can be filent. Thus does he always 
 
 ferve me, whenever I am about to difclofe myfelf to him. 
 
 Charles.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 47 
 
 Charles. Why do you not banifli me and my misfortunes 
 for ever from your thoughts ? 
 
 Char. Ay, wherefore do I not, fince you never allowed 
 me a place in yours r But go, Sir, I have no right to ftay 
 you ; go where your heart directs you ; go to the happy, the 
 diftinguifhed 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 ac- 
 quaintance among the fex, yourfelf excepted which anfwers 
 to that defcription. 
 
 Char. Indeed! 
 
 Charles. In very truth : there then let us drop the fub- 
 je6l. - May you be happy, though I never can ! 
 
 Char, O Charles ! give me your hand , if I have of- 
 fended you, I afk your pardon: you have been long ac- 
 quainted with my temper, and know how to bear with its 
 infirmities. 
 
 Char. Thus, my dear Charlotte, let us feal our reconci- 
 liation (kijfing her hand] Bear with thy infirmities ! By 
 Heaven, I know not any one failing in thy whole compo- 
 fition, except that of too great a partiality for an undeferv-> 
 ing man. 
 
 Char. And you are now taking the very courfe to aug- 
 ment that failing. A thought (Vrikes me : I have a com- 
 miffion that you muft abfolutely execute for me ; I have 
 immediate occafionfor the fum of two hundred pounds ; you 
 know my fortune is fhut up till I am of age; take this paltry 
 box, (it contains my ear-rings, and fome other baubles I 
 have no ufe for) carry it to our oppofite neighbour, Mr. 
 Stockwell, (I don't know where elfe to apply) leave it as a 
 depofit in his hands, and beg him to accommodate me with 
 the fum. 
 
 Charles. Dear Charlotte, what are you about to do ? 
 How can you poffibly want two hundred pounds ? 
 
 Char. How can I poffibly do without it, you mean ? 
 Doesn't every lady want two hundred pounds r Perhaps I 
 have loft it at play ; perhaps I mean to win as much to it ; 
 perhaps I want it for two hundred different ufes. 
 
 Charles. Pooh ! pooh ! all this is nothing ; don't I know 
 you never play ? 
 
 Char. You miftake ; I have a fpirit to fet not only this 
 trifle, but my whole fortune, upon a ftake ; therefore make 
 no wry faces, but do as I bid you : you will find Mr. Stock- 
 well a very honourable gentleman. 
 
 E 2 Lucy
 
 28 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Lucy enters in hajle. 
 
 Lucy. Dear madam, as 1 live, here comes the old lady 
 in a hackney-coach. 
 
 Char. The old chariot has given her a fecond tumble ; 
 away with you ; you know 'your \vay 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 en MAJOR O'Fl*A- 
 HERTY'S arm. 
 
 O'Fla. Reft yourfelf upon my arm ; never fpare it ; 'tis 
 ftrong enough ; it has flood harder fervice than you can put 
 it toe. 
 
 Lucy. Mercy upon me, what is the matter: I am 
 frighten'd out of my wits: has your ladyfhip had an ac- 
 cident? 
 
 L. Ruf. O Lucy ; the moft untoward one in nature : I 
 know not how I (hall repair it. 
 
 O'Fla. Never go about to repair it, my lady ; ev'n build 
 a new one ; 'twas but a crazy piece of bufinefs at heft. 
 
 Lucy. Blefs me, is the old chariot broke down with you 
 again ? 
 
 L Ruf. Broke, child? I don't know what might have 
 been broke, if, by great good fortune, this obliging gentle- 
 man had not been at hand to affift me. 
 
 Lucy. Dear madam, let me run and fetch you a cup of 
 the cordial drops. 
 
 L. Ruf. Do, Lucy. Alas ! Sir, ever fmce I loft my 
 hufband, my poor nerves have been fhook to pieces : there 
 hangs his beloved picture ; that precious relick, and a plen- 
 tiful jointure, is all that remains to conible me for the beft 
 of men. 
 
 O'fla. 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, I fhould guefs he had been 
 honoured with the order of St. Catharine. 
 
 L. Ruj. No, no ; he meddled with no St. Catharines : 
 that's the habit he wore in his mayoralty ; Sir Stephen 
 was Lord-Mayor of London : but he is gone, and has left 
 me a poor. weak, foiitary widow behind him. 
 
 O'Fla.
 
 A CO M E DY. 29 
 
 Q'Fla. By all means, then, take a ftrong, able, hearty 
 man to repair his lofs : if fuch a plain fellow as one Dennis 
 O'Flaherty can pleafe you, I think 1 may venture to fay, 
 without any difparagement to the gentleman in the fur 
 gown there 
 
 L. Ruf. What are you going to fay ? Don't fhock my 
 cars with any companions, I deli re. 
 
 O'Fla. Not I, by my foul; I don't believe there's any 
 comparifon in the cafe. 
 
 L. Ruf Oh, are you come ? Give me the drops ; I'm 
 all in a flutter. 
 
 O'Fla. 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 refiorative 
 elixir, or the nervous golden drops ; they are only for 
 ladies cafes. 
 
 O'Fla. Yes, yes, my dear, there are gentlemen as well 
 as ladies that ftand in need of thofe fame golden drops ; 
 they'd fuit my cafe to a tittle. 
 
 L. Ruf. Well, Major, did you give old Dudley my let- 
 ter, and will the lilly man do as 1 bid him, and be gone ? 
 
 O'Fla. You are obey'd ; he's on his march. 
 
 L. Ruf. That's well ; you have manag'd this matter to 
 perfection ; I didn't think he would have been fo eafily 
 prevail'd upon. 
 
 O'Fla. At the firft word; no difficulty in life; 'twas 
 the very thing he was determined to do, before I came ; I 
 never met a more obliging gentleman. 
 
 L. Ruf. Well, 'tis no matter; fo I am but rid of him, 
 and his diftreffes : wou'd you believe it, Major O'Flaherly, 
 it was but this morning he fent a begging to me for money 
 to fit him out upon fome wild-goofe expedition to the coaft 
 of Africa, I know not where. 
 
 O'Fla. Well, you fent him what he wanted? 
 
 L. Ruf. 1 fent him what he deferv'd, a flat refufal. 
 
 O'Fla. You refufed him ? 
 
 L. Ruf. Moft undoubtedly. 
 
 O'Fla. You fent him nothing ! 
 
 L. Ruf. Not a milling. 
 
 O'Fla. Good morning to you Your fervant (going.) 
 
 L. Ruf. Hey-day ! What ails the man ? Where are you 
 going ? 
 
 O'Fla.
 
 3 o THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 O'Fla. Out of your houfe, before the roof falls on my 
 head to poor Dudley, to {hare the little modicum that 
 thirty years hard fervice has left me ; I vvifh it was more 
 for his fake. 
 
 L. Ruf. Very well, Sir ; take your courfe ; 1 (han't at- 
 tempt to ftop you ; I fhall furvive it ; it will not break my 
 heart if 1 never fee you more. 
 
 O'Fla. Break your heart ! No, o'my conference will it 
 not. You preach, and you pray, and you turn up your 
 eyes, and all the while you're as hard-hearted as an hyena 
 A hyena, truly ! By my foul there isn't in the whole 
 creation fo favage an animal as a human creature without 
 pity. [Exit, 
 
 L. Ruf. A hyena, truly ! Where did the fellow blunder 
 upon that word ? Now the deuce take him for ufmg it^ 
 and the Macaronies for inventing it. 
 
 OF THE SECOND ACT, 
 
 ACT
 
 A C O M D Y. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 A Room In STOCKWELL'S Houfe. 
 STOCKWELL 
 
 3 t 
 
 Stock. /^1 RATIFY me fo far, however, Mr. Belcour, 
 V_T as to fee Mifs Rufport ; carry her the fum fhe 
 Wants, and return the poor girl her box of diamonds, 
 which Dudley left in my hands; you know what to fay 
 on the occafion better than I do ; that part of your com- 
 miffion 1 leave to your own difcretion, and you may feafon 
 it with what gallantry you think fit. 
 
 Bel. You cou'd not have pitch'd upon a greater bungler 
 at gallantry than myfelf, if you had rummag'd every com- 
 pany in the city, and the whole court of aldermen into the 
 bargain : part of your errand, however, I will do ; but 
 whether it (hall be with an ill grace or a good one, de- 
 pends upon the caprice of a moment, the humour of the 
 lady, the mode of our meeting, and a thoufand undefinable 
 fmall circumftances that neverthelefs determine us upon all 
 the great occasions of life. 
 
 Stock. I perfuade myfelf you will find Mifs Rufport an 
 ingenious, worthy, animated girl. 
 
 Bel. 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 fcent as a vulture when 
 danger's in the wind ; wary and fharp-fighted 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, fhe's a jilt ; 
 over head there's a fcaffold, 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 Rufport's complexion, heaven and earth, Sir ! we 
 ftiould be dup'd, undone, and diftraed, in a fortnight. 
 
 Stock. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Why you are become wond'rous 
 circumfpet of a fudden, pupil ; and if you can find fuch a 
 prudent damfel as you defcribe, you have my confent 
 only beware how you choofe ; difcretion is not the reigning 
 Quality amongft the fine ladies of the prefent time ; and 
 
 I think
 
 32 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 I think in Mifs Rufport's particular I have given you no 
 bad counfel. 
 
 Bel. 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 he your 
 fitted ambaflador on that occafion ; and, if I miftake not, 
 the moft agreeable to the lady. 
 
 Stock. Why, indeed, from what I know of the matter, 
 it may not improbably be deftined to find it,s way into his 
 pockets. [Exit. 
 
 Bel. Then, depend upon it, thefe are not the only trin- 
 kets fhe means to dedicate to Captain Dudley. As for me, 
 Stockwell indeed wants me to marry; but till I can get 
 this bewitching girl, this incognita, out of my head, i can 
 never think of any other woman. 
 
 (SERVANT enters^ and delivers a letter.) 
 
 Heyday ! Where can I have picked up a correfpondent 
 already ! 'Tis a moft execrable manufcript Let me fee 
 Martha Fulmer Who is Martha Fulmer ? Pfhaw ! I 
 won't be at the trouble of decyphering 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 
 *' 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 defpair ; come to me immediately; 
 " the lady is now in my houfe, and expects you. 
 " Yours, 
 
 " MARTHA FULMER.'* 
 
 O thou dear, lovely, and enchanting paper, which I 
 W9S about to tear into a thoufand fcraps, devoutly I entreat 
 thy pardon : I have flighted thy contents, which are de- 
 licious ; flander'd thy characters, which are divine ; and 
 all the atonement I can make is implicitly to obey thy 
 mandates. 
 
 STOCK-WELL returns. 
 
 Stock. Mr. Belcour, here are the jewels ; this letter en- 
 cloles bills for the monev;'and, if you will deliver it to 
 Mifs Rufport, you'll have no farther trouble on tliat fcore.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 33 
 
 Bel. Ah. Sir ! the letter which I've been reading difqua- 
 lifies me for delivering the letter wh ich you have been writing : 
 I have other game on foot ; the lovelieft girl my eyes ever 
 feafted upon is ftarted in view, and the world cannot now 
 divert me from purfuing her. 
 
 Stock. Hey-dey ! What has turned you thus on a fudden ? 
 
 Bd. A woman : one that can turn, and overturn me and 
 my tottering refolutions every way me will. Oh, Sir, if this 
 is folly in me, you muft rail at Nature: you muft chide the 
 fun, that was vertical at my birth, and would not wink upon 
 my nakednefs, but fwaddled me in the broadeft, hotteft glare 
 of his meridian beams. 
 
 Stock. Mere rhapfody ; mere childifh rhapfody j the li- 
 bertine's familiar plea : Nature made us, 'tis true, but we 
 are the refponfible creatures of our own faults and follies. 
 
 Bel. Sir ! 
 
 Stock. Slave of every face you meet, fome huffey has 
 inveigled you, fouie handfome profligate, (the town is full of 
 them ;) and, when once fairly bankrupt in conftitution, as 
 well as fortune, nature no longer ferves as your excufe for 
 being vicious ; neceflity, perhaps, will Hand your friend, and 
 you'll reform. 
 
 Bel. You are fevere. 
 
 Stock It fits me to be fo it well becomes a father I 
 would fay a friend How ftrangely I forgot myfelf How 
 difficult it is to counterfeit indifference, and put a mafk upon 
 the heart I've (truck him hard; he reddens. 
 
 Bel. How could you tempt me fo ? Had you not inad 
 vertently dropped the name of father, I fear our friendfhip, 
 fhort as it has been, would fcarce have held me But even 
 your miftake I reverence Give me your hand 'tis over. 
 
 Stock. Generous young man let me embrace you 
 
 How mall I hide my tears ? I have been to blame ; becaufe 
 I bore you the affection of a father, I raihly took up the au- 
 thority of one. I afk your pardon purfue your courfe; I 
 
 have no right to flop it What would you have me do 
 
 with thefe things ? 
 
 Bel. This, if I might advife ; carry the money to Mifs 
 Rufport immediately ; never let generality wait for it's ma- 
 terials ; that part of the bufmefs preffes. Give me the jewels ; 
 I'll find an opportunity of delivering them into her hands; 
 and your vifit may pave the way for my reception. [Exit. 
 
 Stock. Be it fo : good morning to you. Farewel advice ! 
 F Away
 
 34 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Away goes he upon the wing for pleafure. What various 
 paffions he awakens in me f He pains, yet pleafes me ; af- 
 frights, offends, yet grows upon my heart. His very fail- 
 ings fet him off for ever trefpaflmg, for ever atoning, I 
 almoft think he would not be fo perfect, were he free from 
 fault : I muft diflemble longer ; and yet how painful the ex- 
 periment ! Even now he's gone upon fome wild adven- 
 ture; and who can tell what mifchief may befall him: O 
 Nature, what it is to be a father ! Juft fuch a thoughtlefs 
 headlong thing was I when I beguiled his mother into 
 love. lExitt 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Scene changes to FULMER'S houfe. 
 
 FULMER and his WIFE. 
 
 Ful. I tell you, Patty, you are a fool to think of bringing 
 him and Mifs Dudley together ; 'twill ruin everything, and 
 blow your whole fcheme up to the moon at once. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Why, fure, Mr. Fulmer, 1 may be allowed 
 to rear a chicken of my own hatching, as they fay. Who 
 firft fprung the thought but I, pray ? Who firft contrived 
 the plot ? Who propofed the letter, but I, I ? 
 
 Ful. And who dogg'd the gentleman home ? Who found 
 out his name, fortune, connection ; that he was a Weft- 
 Indian, frefli landed, and full of cafh ; a gull to our heart's 
 content ; a hot-brain'd headlong fpark, that would run into 
 our trap, like a wheat-ear under a turf? 
 
 Jlfrs. Ful. Hark ! he's come : difappear, march ; and leave 
 the field open to my machination. [Exit FULMER. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 BELCOUR enters to her. 
 
 Bel. O, thou dear minifter to my happinefs, let me em- 
 brace thee ! Why thou art my polar ftar, my propitious con- 
 fteliation, by which I navigate my impatient bark into the 
 port of pleafure and delight. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Oh, you men are fly creatures ! Do you re- 
 member now, you cruel, what you faid to me this morning ? 
 
 Bel. All a jeft, a frolick ; never think on't; bury it for 
 ever in oblivion ; thou ! why thou art all over ne6lar and 
 
 ambrofia,
 
 A C O M E D Y. 35 
 
 ambrofia, powder of pear] and odour of rof s ; thou haft 
 the youth of Hebe, the beauty of Venus, and the pen of 
 Sappho ; but in the name of all that's lovely, where's the 
 lady ! I expe&ed to find her with you. 
 
 Mrs. FuL No doubt vou 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 not to be kept 
 waiting like negro flaves in your fugar plantations. 
 
 Bel. Gone ! whither is fhe gone ? tell me that I may 
 follow her. v 
 
 Mrs. FuL Hold, hold, not fo faft young gentleman, this 
 is a cafe of fome delicacy ; (hou'd Captain Dudley know 
 that I introduced you to his daughter, he is a man of fuch 
 fcrupulous honour 
 
 Bel. What do you tell me ! is fhe daughter to the old 
 gentleman I met here this morning? 
 
 Mrs. FuL The fame ; him you was fo generous to. 
 
 Bel. There's an end of the matter then at once ; it fhall 
 never be (aid of me, that I took advantage of the father's 
 neceffities to trepan the daughter (going.) 
 
 Mrs. FuL So, fo, I've made a wrong caft, he's one of 
 your confcientious fmners I find ; but I won't lofe him 
 thus Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Bel. What is it you laugh at ? 
 
 Mrs. FuL Your abfolute inexperience : have you lived 
 fo very little time in this country, as not to know that be-* 
 tvveen young people of equal ages, the term of lifter often 
 is a cover for that of miftrefs ? This young lady is, in that 
 fenfe of the word, fifter to young Dudley, and confequent- 
 ly daughter to my old lodger. 
 
 Bel. Indeed ! are you ferious ? 
 
 Mrs. FuL Can you doubt it? I muft have been pretty 
 well affur'd of that before I invited you hither. 
 
 Bel. That's true ; fhe cannot be a woman of honour, 
 and Dudley is an u neon fc ion able 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, be- 
 witching, mifchievous, little devil ; and he fhall pofitively 
 give her up. 
 
 Mrs. FuL Ay, now the freak has taken you again ; I 
 fay give her up ; there's one way, indeed, and certain of 
 fuccefs. 
 
 Bel. What's tha^? 
 
 F* Mrs. FuL
 
 36 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Out-bid him, never dream of out-bluftring 1 
 him ; buy out his leafe of pofleffion, and leave her to ma- 
 nage his eje&ment. 
 
 BeL Is fhe fo venal ? Never fear me then ; when beauty 
 is the purchafe. I (han't think much of the price. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. 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 ; 1 can beftow it to 
 advantage, there's no time to be loft. 
 
 BeL Hang it, confound it ; a plague upon't, fay T ! 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 
 fmce. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Mighty well ; let it pafs then ; there's an end ; 
 think no more of the lady, that's all. 
 
 BeL Diftradtion ! think no more of her ? let me only 
 ftep home and provide myfelf, I'll be back with you in an 
 inftant. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Pooh, pooh! that's a wretched fhift: have 
 you nothing of value about you \ Money's a coarfe flovenly 
 vehicle, fit only to bribe electors in a borough ; there are 
 more graceful ways of purchafing a lady's favours ; rings, 
 trinkets, jewels ! 
 
 Bel. Jewels! Gadfo, I proteft I had forgot. I have a 
 cafe of jewels ; but they won't do, I muft not part from, 
 them ; no, no, they are appropriated ; they are none of my 
 own. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Let me fee, let me fee ! Ay, now, this were 
 fomething-like : pretty creatures, how they fparkle ! thefc 
 wou'd enfure fuccefs. 
 
 BeL Iwdeed ! 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Thefe wou'd make her your own for ever. 
 
 BeL Then the deuce take *em for belonging to anothe^ 
 perfon ; I cou'd find in my heart to give 'em the girl, and 
 fvvear I've loft them. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Ay, do, fay they were ftolen out of your pocket. 
 
 BeL No, hang it, that's di (honourable ; here, give me 
 the paltry things, I'll write you an order on my merchant 
 for double their value. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. 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 count- 
 ing houfe formalities ; I'll have nothing to do with them ; 
 
 leave
 
 A C O M D Y. 37 
 
 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. 
 
 Bet. Hey ! how ! I never thought of that ; but a breach 
 of truft ; 'tis impoflible ; I never can content, therefore give 
 me the jewels back again. 
 
 Mrs, Ful. Take 'em ; I am now to tell you the lady is 
 in this houfe ? 
 
 Bel. In this houfe ? 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Yes, Sir, in this very houfe ; but what of 
 that? you have got what you like better ; your toys, your 
 trinkets ; go, go : Oh ! you're a man of notable fpirit, are 
 you not ? 
 
 Bel. Provoking creature ! Bring me to the fight of the 
 dear girl, and difpofe of me as you think tit. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. And of the diamonds too ? 
 
 Bel. Damn 'em, I wou'd there was not fuch a bauble in 
 nature ! But come, come, difpatch ; if 1 had the throne of 
 Dehli I iliould give it to her. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Swear to me then that you will keep within 
 bounds, remember fhe pafles for the fifter of young Dudley. 
 Oh ! if you come to your flights, and your rhapfodies, 
 fhe'll be off in an inftant. 
 
 Bel. Never fear me. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. You mud expect to hear her talk of her fa- 
 ther, as fhe calls him, and her brother, and your bounty to 
 her family. 
 
 Bel. Ay, ay, never mind what fhe talks of, only bring 
 her. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. You'll be prepar'd upon that head ? 
 
 Bel. I fhall be prepar'd, never fear; away with you. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. But hold, I had forgot : not a word of the 
 diamonds ; leave that matter to my management. 
 
 Bel. Hell and vexation ! Get out of the room, or I fhall 
 run diftracted. [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, honour forbids me ; and I pofitively cannot give up 
 the girl: love, paffion, conflitution, every thing protefts 
 againft that. How fhall I decide ? 1 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 r Let me 
 
 confider
 
 38 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 confider There is, there is: my good genius has presented 
 me with one ; 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 
 deftru&ion, and eyery party fhall be a gainer by the 
 project. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 MRS. FULMER introducing Miss DUDLEY. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Mifs Dudley, this is the worthy gentleman 
 you wifti to fee ; this is Mr. Belcour. 
 
 Louifa. As 1 live the very man that befet me in the 
 ftreets! (aftde.) 
 
 Bel. An angel, by this light ! Oh I am gone part all 
 retrieving! (ajide.) 
 
 Louifa. Mr?. Fulmer, Sir, informs me you are the 
 gentleman from whom my father has received fuch civi- 
 lities. 
 
 Bel. Oh ! never name 'em. 
 
 Louifa. Pardon me, Mr. Belcour, they muft be both 
 named and remember'd ; and if my father was here : - 
 
 Bel. I am much better pleafed with his reprefentative. 
 
 Louifa. That title is my brother's, Sir ; I have no claim 
 to it. 
 
 Bel. I believe it. 
 
 Louifa. But as neither he nor my father were fortunate 
 enough to be at home, I cou'd not refill: the opportunity 
 
 Bel. Nor I neither, by my foul, Madam : let us improve 
 it, therefore. I am in love with you to diftraclion ; 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 
 carting my perfon and my fortune at your feet. 
 
 Louifa. You aftonifli me ! Are you in your fenfes, or 
 do you make a jeft of my misfortunes ? Do you ground pre- 
 tences on your generality, or do you make a practice of 
 this folly with every woman you meet ? 
 
 Bel. Upon my life, no : as you are the handfomefr. wo- 
 man I ever met, fo you are the firft to whom I ever made 
 the like profeffions ; as for my generofity, Madam, I muft 
 refer you on that fcore to this good lady, who I believe haj 
 fomething to offer in my behalf. 

 
 A C O M E D Y 39 
 
 Loulfa. Don't Kuild upon- that, Sir; I muft have better 
 proofs of your generality, than the mere diveftmentofa 
 little fuperfluous drofs, before I an credit the fmcerity of 
 profefTions fo abruptly delivered. [ Exit hajlily. 
 
 Bel. Oh ! ye Gods and Goddeffes, how her anger ani- 
 mates her beauty ! [Going out. 
 
 Mrs, Ful Stay, Sir ; if you ftir a ftep after her, I re- 
 nounce your intereft for ever; why you'll ruin every- 
 thing. 
 
 Bel. Well, 1 muft have her, coft what it will : f fee 
 fhe underftands her own value tho* ; a little fuperfluous 
 drofs, truly ! She muft have better proofs of my generofity. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. 'Tis exactly as I told you ; your money fhe 
 calls drofs ; {he's too proud to ftain her ringers with your 
 coin ; brut your hook well with jewels ; try that experiment, 
 and fhe's your own. 
 
 Bel. Take 'em ; let 'em go ; lay 'em at her feet ; I muft 
 get out of the fcrape as I can ; my propenfity is irrefiftible : 
 there ; you have 'em ; they are yours ; they are hers ; but 
 remember they are a truft ; I commit them to her keep- 
 ing till I can buy 'em off with fomething (he {hall think 
 more valuable ; now tell me when {hall I meet her ? 
 
 Mrs. Ful. How can I tell that ? Don't you fee what an 
 alarm you have put her into ? Oh ! you're a rare one ! 
 But go your ways for this while ; leave her to my manage- 
 ment, and come to me at feven this evening ; but remem- 
 ber not to bring empty pockets with you Ha ! ha ! ah ! 
 
 [Exeunt fever ally ^ 
 
 SCENE V. 
 LADY RUSPORT'S houfe. 
 Miss RUSPORT enters, followed by a Servant. 
 Char. Defire Mr. Stockwell to walk in. [Exit Servant. 
 
 STOCKWELL enters. 
 
 Stock. Madam, your moft obedient fervant : I am ho- 
 noured with your commands, by Captain Dudley ; and 
 have brought the money with me as you directed ; I under- 
 ftand the fum you have occafion for is two hundred pounds. 
 Char. It is, Sir ; I am quite confounded at your taking 
 this trouble upon yourfelf, Mr. Stockwell. 
 
 Stock.
 
 40 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Stock. There is a Bank-note, Madam, to the amount : 
 your jewels are in fafe hands, and will be delivered to yovt 
 direftly. If I had been happy in being better known ta 
 you, I fhould have hoped you would not have thought it 
 neceffary to place a depofit in my hands for fo trifling a furn 
 as you have now required me to fupply you with. 
 
 Char. The baubles I fent you may very well be fpared ; 
 and, as they are the only fecurity in my prefent fituation, 
 I can give you, I could wifh you would retain them in 
 your hands: when I am of age, (which, if I live a few 
 months, I fhall be) I will replace your favour, with thanks. 
 
 Stock. It is obvious, Mils Rufport, that your charms 
 will fuffer no impeachment by the abfence of thofe fuper- 
 ficial ornaments ; but they fliould be feen in the fuite of a 
 woman of fafhion, not as creditors to whom you are in- 
 debted for your appearance, but as fubfervient attendants, 
 which help to make up your equipage. 
 
 Char. Mr.. Stockwell is determined not to wrong the 
 confidence I repofed in his politenefs. 
 
 Stock. I have only to requeft, Madam, that you will 
 allow Mr. Belcour, a young gentleman, in whofe happi- 
 nefs 1 particularly intereft myfelf, to have the honour of 
 delivering you the box of jewels. 
 
 Char. Moft gladly ; any friend of yourS cannot fail of 
 being welcome here. 
 
 Stock. I flatter myfelf you will not find him totally un- 
 deferving your good opinion ; an education not of the 
 ftri&eft kind, and ftrong animal fpirits, are apt fometimes 
 to betray him into youthful irregularities ; but an high 
 principle of honour, and an uncommon benevolence, in 
 the eye of candour, will, I hope, atone for any faults, by 
 which thefe good qualities are not impaired. 
 
 Char. I dare fay Mr. Belcours behaviour wants no 
 apology : we've no right to be over flrict in canvaffing the 
 morals of a common acquaintance. 
 
 Stock. I wifh it may be my happinefs to fee Mr. Belcour 
 in the lift, not of your common, but particular acquaint- 
 ance, of your friends, Mifs Rufport 1 dare not be more 
 explicit. 
 
 Char. Nor need you, Mr. Stcckwell : I fhall be ftudious 
 to delerve his friendship ; and, though I have long fince 
 unalterably placed my afFe&ions on another, I truft, I 
 have not left myfelf inienfible to the merits of Mr. Belcour ; 
 
 and
 
 A C O M E D Y. 41 
 
 and hope that neither you nor he will, for that reafon, 
 think me lefs worthy your good opinion and regards. 
 
 Stock. Mifs Rufport, I fincerely wifh you happy : I have 
 no doubt you have placed your affe&ion on a deferving 
 man ; and I have no right to combat your choice. [Exit. 
 
 Char. How honourable is that behaviour! Now, if 
 Charles was here, I fhould be happy. The old lady is fo 
 fond of her new Irifh acquaintance, that I have the whole 
 houfe at my difpofal. [Exit CHARLOTTE. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 BELCOUR enters^ preceded by a SERVANT* 
 Ser. 1 afk your honour's pardon ; I thought my young 
 lady was here : who mall I inform her wou'd fpeak to her ? 
 Bel. Belcour is my name, Sir ; and pray beg your lady 
 to put herfelf in no hurry on my account ; for I'd fooner 
 fee the devil than fee her face. (Exit Servant.) In the name 
 of all that's mifchievous, why did Stockwell drive me 
 hither in fuch hafte ? A pretty figure, truly, I fhall make : 
 an ambaffador without credentials. Blockhead that T was 
 to charge myfelf with her diamonds ; officious, meddling 
 puppy ! Now they are irretrievably gone : that fufpicious 
 jade Fulmer woudn't part even with a fight of them, tho' I 
 would have ranfom'd 'em at twice their value. Now muft 
 I truft to my poor wits to bring me off: a lamentable de- 
 pendance. Fortune be my helper : Here comes the girl- 
 If fhe is noble minded, as fhe is faid to be, fhe will forgive 
 me ; if not, 'tis a loft caufe ; for I have not thought of one 
 word in my excufe. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 CHARLOTTE enters. 
 
 Char. Mr. Belcour, I'm proud to fee you : your friend, 
 Mr. Stockwell, prepared me to expect this honour ; and I 
 am happy in the opportunity of being known to you. 
 
 Bel. A fine girl, by my foul ! Now what a curfed hang- 
 dog do I look like ! (ajide.) 
 
 Char. You are newly arrived in this country, Sir ? 
 
 Bel. Juft landed, Madam ; juft fet a more, with a large 
 cargo of Mufcavado fu^ars, rum-puncheons, mahogany- 
 flabs, wet fweet-meats, and green paroquets. 
 
 G Char.
 
 42 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Char. May I afk you how you like London, Sir ? 
 
 Bel. To admiration : I think the town and the town's- 
 folk are exactly fuited; 'tis a great, rich, overgrown, 
 noify, tumultuous place : the whole morning is a buftle to 
 get money* and the whole aftepioon is a hurry to fpend it. 
 
 Char. Are thefe all the obfervations you have made ? 
 
 BcL No, Madam ; I have obferved the women are very 
 captivating, and the men very foon caught. 
 
 Char. Ay, indeed ! Whence do you draw that conclu- 
 fion? 
 
 Bel. From infallible guides ; the firfl remark I collect 
 from what I now fee, the fecond from what I now feel. 
 
 Char. Oh, the deuce take you ! But to wave this fub- 
 j&; I believe, Sir, this was a vifit of bufmefs, not compli- 
 ment ; was it not ? 
 
 Bel. Ay ; now corres on my execution. 
 
 Char. You have fome fooliili trinkets of mine, Mr. Bel- 
 cour; havn't you ? 
 
 Bel. No, in truth ; they are gone in fearch of a trinket, 
 ftill more foolifh than themfelves. (a/ids.) 
 
 Char. Some diamonds I mean, Sir; Mr. Stockwell- in- 
 form 'd me you was charg'd with 'em. 
 
 Bel. Oh, yes, Madam , but I have the moft treacherous 
 memory in life Here they are! Pray put them up ; they're- 
 all right ; you need not examine 'em. (gives a box.) 
 
 Char. Hey-day ! right, Sir ! Why thefe are not my 
 diamonds; thefe are quite different; and, as i.t fhould 
 feem, of much greater value. 
 
 Bel. Upon my life I'm glad on't 5 for then I hope .you 
 value 'em more than your own. 
 
 Char. As a purchafer I fhould, but not as an owner ; 
 you miftake ; thefe belong to fomebody elfe. 
 
 Bel. 'Tis yours, I'm afraid, that belong to fomebody 
 elfe. 
 
 Char. What is it you mean ? I muft infift upon your 
 taking 'em back again. 
 
 Bel. Pray, Madam, don't do that; 1 fhall infallibly lofe 
 them ; I have the worfl luck with diamonds of any man 
 living. 
 
 Char. That you might well fay, was you to give me 
 thefe in the place of mine ; but pray, Sir, what is the rea- 
 Ibn of all this ? Why have you changed the jewels ? And 
 where have you difpofed of mine ? 
 
 tt
 
 , . A C O M E D Y. 43 
 
 Bel. Mifs Rufport, 1 cannot invent a lie for my life ; 
 2nd, if it was to fave it, 1 coudn't tell one : I am an idle, 
 diflipated, unthinking fellow, not worth your notice: in 
 /hort, I am a Weft Indian ; and you muft try me according- 
 to the charter of my colony, not by a jury of English 
 fpinfters : the truth is, I've given away your jewels ; 
 caught with a pair of fparkling eyes, whofe luftre blinded 
 their's, I ferved your property as I fhould my own, and 
 lavifh'd it away ; let me not totally defpair of your for- 
 givenefs : I frequently do wrong, but never with impu- 
 nity ; if your difpleafure is added to my own, my puniih- 
 ment will be too fevere. When I parted from the jewels, 
 I had not the honour of knowing their owner. 
 
 Char. Mr. Belcour, your fincerity charms me ; I enter 
 at once into your character, and I make all the allow- 
 ances for it you can defire. I take your jewels for the 
 prefent, becaufe I know there is no other way of recon- 
 ciling you 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. 
 
 Bel. Now, may every bleffing that can crown your vir- 
 tues, 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 conftant, and you never meet a lefs penitent, or lefs 
 grateful offender, than myfelf ! 
 
 (Servant enters and delivers a letter.) 
 
 Char. Does your letter require fuch hafte ? 
 
 Ser. I was bade to give it into your own hands, Madam. 
 
 Char. From Charles Dudley, I fee have I your per- 
 mifllon ? Good Heaven, what do I read ! Mr. Belcour, 
 
 you are concern 'd in this " Dear Charlotte, in the 
 
 " midft of our diftrefs, Providence has caft a benefactor 
 " in our way, after the moft unexpected manner: a 
 " young W r eft 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 ac- 
 " complifh his exchange : when I relate to you the man- 
 " ner in which this was done, you will be charmed ; I can 
 " only now add, that it was by chance we found out that 
 G 2 ' his
 
 44 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 " his name is Belcour, and that he is a friend of Mr. 
 *' StockwelPs. I lofe not a moment's time, in making you 
 " acquainted with this fortunate event, for reafons which 
 "delicacy obliges me to fupprefs; but, perhaps, if you 
 " have not received the money on your jewels, you will 
 *' not think it necefiary now to do it. I have the honour 
 " to be, 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 
 " mofl faithfully, yours, 
 
 " CHARLES DUDLEY." 
 
 Is this your doing, Sir ? Never was generofity fo 
 worthily exerted. 
 
 Bel. Or fo greatly overpaid. 
 
 Char. After what you have now done for this noble, but 
 indigent 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 offi- 
 cer, whom you relieved, that the moment I am of age, and 
 in pofleffion of my fortune, I fhou'd hold myfelf the hap- 
 pieft of women to (hare it with young Dudley. 
 
 Bel. 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 (hort, pleafure too fugitive ; the foul grows nar- 
 rower every hour ; I'll equip you for your efcape; I'll 
 convey you to the man of your heart, and away with you 
 then to the firfl hofpitable parfon that will take you in. 
 
 Char. O bleffecl be the torrid zone for ever, whofe rapid 
 vegetation quickens nature into fuch benignity ! Thefe 
 latitudes are made for politics and philofophy ; friendfhip 
 has no root in this foil. But, had I fpirit to accept your 
 offer, which is not improbable, woudn't it be a mortifying 
 thing, for a fond girl to find herfelf miftaken, and fent back 
 to her home, like a vagrant ; and fuch, for what 1 know, 
 might be my cafe. 
 
 Bel. Then he ought to be profcribed the fociety of man- 
 kind for ever Ay, ay, 'tis the (ham filler that makes 
 
 him thus indifferent ; 'twill be a meritorious office to take 
 that girl out of the way, 
 
 SCENE
 
 A C O M E D Y. 45 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 (Servant enters.) 
 
 Ser. Mifs Dudley to wait on vou, Madam. 
 
 Bel. Who? 
 
 Ser. Mifs Dudley. 
 
 Char. 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. 
 
 Bel. The fifter ! So, fo ; he has impofed on her loo 
 this is an extraordinary vifit, truly. Upon my foul, the 
 aflurance of fome folks is not to be accounted for. 
 
 Char. I infift upon your not running away ; you'll be 
 charm'd with Louifa Dudley. 
 
 Bel. Oh, yes, I am charmed with her. 
 
 Char. You've feen her then, have you ? 
 
 Beir Yes, yes, I've feen her. 
 
 Char. Well, isn't (he a delightful girl? 
 
 Bel. Very delightful. 
 
 Char. Why, you anfwer as if you was in a court of juf- 
 tice : O' my confcience ! 1 believe you are caught ; I've 
 a notion fhe has trick'd you out of your heart. 
 
 Bel. I believe fhe has, and you out of your jewels ; for, 
 to tell you the truth, {he's the very perfon I gave 'em to. 
 
 Char. You gave her my jewels ! Louifa Dudley my 
 jewels ? admirable ! inimitable ! Oh, the fly little jade ! 
 but hufh, here (he comes ; I don't know how I (hall keep 
 my countenance. (LouisA enters.) My dear, I'm re- 
 joiced to fee you ; how d'ye do ? I beg leave to introduce 
 Mr. Belcour, a very worthy friend of mine ; I believe, 
 Louifa, you have feen him before. 
 
 Lou. I have met the gentleman. 
 
 Char. 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'cl as ftatues Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Why you'll fall afleep by-and-by. 
 
 Lou. Fye upon you : fye upon you ; is this fair ? 
 
 Bel. Upon my foul, I never look'd fo like a fool in my 
 life ; the aflurance of that girl puts me quite down, (ajide.) 
 
 Char. Sir Mr. Belcour Was it your pleafure to ad-
 
 4 6 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 vancc any thing? Not a fyllable. Come, .Louifa, wo- 
 men's wit, they fay, is never at a lofs Nor you neither ? 
 Speechlefs both Why you was merry enough before this 
 lady came in. 
 
 Lou. I am forry I have been any interruption to your 
 happinefs, Sir. 
 
 Bel. Madam! 
 
 Char. Madam ! Is that all you can fay ? But come, my 
 dear girl, I won't teaze you : apropos ! I muft fliew you 
 what a prefent this dumb gentleman has made me : are not 
 thefe handfome diamonds ? 
 
 Lou. Yes, indeed, they feem very fine; but I am no 
 judge of thefe things. 
 
 Char. Oh, you wicked little hypocrite, you are no judge 
 of thefe things, Louifa ; you have no diamonds, not you. 
 
 Lou. You know I havn't, Mils Rufport . you know 
 thofe things are infinitely above my reach. 
 
 Char. Ha! ha I ha! 
 
 Bel. She does tell a lie with an admirable countenance, 
 that's true enough. 
 
 Lou. What ails you, Charlotte ? What impertinence 
 have I been guilty of that you fhould find it neceflary to 
 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 .miferable. 
 
 Char. 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. 
 
 Bel. Oh, by all means, pray command me. Mifs 
 Rufport, I'm your moft obedient ! By your condefcenfion 
 in accepting thefe poor trifles, I am under eternal obliga- 
 tions to you To you, Mifs Dudley, I fhall not offer a 
 word on that fubje6t : you defpife finery ; you have a foul 
 above it ; I adore your fpirit ; I was rather unprepared for 
 meeting you here ; but I fhall hope for an opportunity 
 of making myfeif better known to you. [Exif. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 CHARLOTTE and LOUISA. 
 
 Char. Louifa Dudley, you furprize me ; I never faw 
 you act thus before : can't you bear a little innocent rail- 
 lery before the man of your heart ? 
 
 Lou.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 47 
 
 Lott. The man 6f my heart, Madam ? Be aflured I never 
 was fo viiionary to afpire to any man whom Mifs Rufport 
 honours with her choice. 
 
 Char. My choice, my dear ! Why we are playing at 
 crofs purpofes : how enter'd it into your head that Mr. 
 Belcour was the man of my choice ? 
 
 Lou. Why, didn't he prefent you with thofe diamonds ? 
 
 Char. Well ; perhaps he did and pray, Louifa, have 
 you no diamonds ? 
 
 Lou. I diamonds truly ! Who fhould give me diamonds? 
 
 Char. Who, but this very gentleman : apropos ! here 
 comes your brother 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 (CHARLES enters.) 
 
 I infifl upon referring our difpute to him: your fifter 
 and I, Charles, have a quarrel ; Belcour, 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, huffey) 
 Well, that's excufable enough, you'll fay ; but the jet of 
 the ftory is, that this hair-brain'^ fpark, who does nothing 
 like other people, has given her the very identical jewels, 
 which you pledged for me to Mr. Stockwell ; and will you 
 believe that this little demure ilut made up a face, and 
 fqueezed out three or four hypocritical tears, becaufe I 
 rallied her about it. 
 
 Charles. I'm all aftonirtiment ! Louifa, tell me without 
 referve, has Mr. Belcour given you any diamonds? 
 
 Lou. None, upon my honour. 
 
 Charles. Has he made any profeffions to you ? 
 
 Lou. He has ; but altogether in a ftile fo whimflcal and 
 capricious, that the bed which can be faid of them is to tell 
 you, that they feem'd more the refult of good fpirits than 
 good manners. 
 
 Char. Ay, ay, now the murder's out ; he's in love with 
 her, and fhe has no very great diflike to him ; truft to my 
 obfervation, Charles, for that: as to the diamonds, there's 
 fome miftake about them, and you muft clear it up : 
 three minutes converfation with him will put every thing
 
 48 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 in a right train ; go, go, Charles, 'tis a brother's bufmefs ; 
 about it inftantly ; ten to one you'll find him over the way 
 at Mr. Stockwell's. 
 
 Charles. 1 confefs, I'm impatient to have the cafe clear'd 
 tip ; I'll take your advice, and find him out , good bye to 
 you. 
 
 Char. Your fervant ; my life upon it you'll find Belcour 
 a man of honour. Come, Louifa, let us adjourn to my 
 dreffing-room ; I've a little private bufmefs to tranfadl 
 with you, before the old lady comes up to tea, and inter- 
 rupts us. 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
 ACT
 
 A C O M E D Y. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 FULMER'S boufe. 
 
 FULMER flfl^MRS. FULMER. 
 
 49 
 
 FuL T) ATTY, wasn't Mr. Belcour with you ? 
 
 JL Mrs. Ful. He was ; and is now fliut up in my 
 chamber, in high expectation of an interview with Mifs 
 Dudley ; {he's at prefent with her brother, and 'twas with 
 fome difficulty I perfuaded my hot-headed fpark to wait till 
 he has left her. 
 
 Ful. Well, child, and what then ? 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Why then, Mr, Fulmer, I think it will be 
 time for you and me to fteal a march, and be gone. 
 
 Ful. So this is all the fruit of your ingenious projedl; a 
 fhameful overthrow, or a fuddon flight 
 
 Mrs, Ful. Why, my project 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 droop, 
 man Hark ! hark ! here's enough to bear charges (Jhevjing 
 a purfe.) 
 
 Ful. Let me fee, let me fee : this weighs well ; this is 
 of the right fort : why your Weft-Indian bled freely. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Bat that's not all : look here ! Here are the 
 fparklers ! (Jheium% the jewels) Now what d'ye think of my 
 performances? Heh ! a foolifti fcheme, isn't it a filly 
 woman ? 
 
 Ful. Thou art a Judith, a Joan of Arc, and I'll march 
 under thy banners, girl, to the world's end : come, let's 
 begone ; I've little to regret ; my creditors may {hare the 
 old bocks amongft them ; they'll have occafion for phi- 
 lofophy to fupport their lofs ; they'll find enough upon my 
 fhelves : the world is my library ; I read mankind Now, 
 Patty, lead the way. 
 
 Mrs. Ful. Adieu, Belcour ! [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 CHARLES DUDLEY and LOUISA. 
 Charles. Well, Louifa, I confefs the force of what you 
 fay : I accept Mifs Rufport's bounty ; and, when you fee 
 H my
 
 S o THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 my generous Charlotte, tell her -but have a care, there 
 
 is a felfifhnefs even in gratitude, when it is too profufe ; to 
 be overrhankful for any one favour, is in effect to lay out 
 for another ; the beft return 1 cou'd make my benefactrefs 
 wou'd be never to fee her more. 
 
 Lou. I underftand 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 ho- 
 nourably ; but, I confefs to you, I am ftagger'tl ; think no 
 more of him, therefore, for the prefent : of this be fure, 
 while I have life, and you have honour, I will protect you, 
 or perifh in your defence. [Exit. 
 
 Lou. Think of him ho morel Well, I'll obey ; but if 
 a wand'ring uninvited thought mould creep by chance into 
 my bofom, muft not I give the harmlefs wretch a fhelter ? 
 Oh ! yes ; the great artificer of the human heart knows 
 every thread he wove into its fabric, nor puts his work to 
 harder ufes than it was made to bear : my wifhes then, my 
 guiltlefs ones, I mean, are free: how faft they fpfing 
 within me at that fentence ! Down, down, ye bufy crea- 
 tures! Whither 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, in- 
 fults me ; yet, fuch is the fatality of my condition, that 
 what fhou'd rouie reientment, only calls up love. 
 
 SCENE IIL 
 (BELCOUR enters to her.} 
 Bel Alone, by all that's happy ! 
 Lou. Ah! 
 
 Bel. Oh ! ihriek not, ftart not, ftir not, lovelieft crea- 
 ,ture ! but let me kneel, and gaze upon your beauties. 
 Lou. Sir ! Mr. Belcour, rife ! What is it you do ? 
 Bel. 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 inftruclion ; make me only fuch as you can like 
 yourfelf, and I mail be happy. 
 
 Lou. I muft not hear this, Mr. Belcour ; go ; mould 
 
 he
 
 A C O M E D Y. 51 
 
 he that parted from me but this minute, now return, I 
 tremble for the confequence. 
 
 Bel. Fear nothing; let him come : I love you, Madam ; 
 he'll find it hard to make me unfay that. 
 
 Louifa. You terrify me ; your impetuous temper Tright- 
 ens me ; you know my fituation ; it is not generous to pur- 
 lue me thus. 
 
 Bel. True ; I do know your fituation, your real one, 
 Mifs Dudley, and am refolv'd to match you from it ; 'twill 
 be a meritorious a6l ; the old Captain (hall rejoice ; Mils 
 Rufport fhall be made happy : and even he, even your be- 
 loved brother, with whole refentment you threaten me, 
 fhall in the end applaud and thank me : Come, thou'rt a 
 dear enchanting girl, and I'm determin'd not to live a mi- 
 nute longer without thee. 
 
 Louifa. Hold, are you mad ? I fee you are a bold aflum- 
 ing man. and know not where to (top. 
 
 Bel, Who that beholds fuch beauty can ? By Heaven, 
 you put my blood into a flame. Provoking girl ! is it 
 within the ft retch of my fortune to content you ? What is 
 it you can further aik that I am not ready to grant ? 
 
 Louifa. Yes, with the fame facility that you beftow'd 
 upon me MifsRufport's diamonds. Forfhame ! for fhame ! 
 was that a manly ftory ? 
 
 Bel. So! fo! thefe devilirti diamonds meet me every 
 where Let me perifh if I mean't you any harm : Oh I i 
 cou'd tear my tongue out for faying a word about the 
 matter. 
 
 Louifa. Go to her then and contradidl it ; till that is 
 done, my reputation is at {take. 
 
 Bel. Her reputation \ Now me 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. 
 
 Louifa. Do fo ; reltore her own jewels to her, which I 
 fuppofe you kept back tor the purpofe of preienting others 
 to her of a greater value ; but for the future, Mr. Belcour, 
 when you wou'd do a gallant adlion to that lady, don't let it 
 be at my expence. 
 
 Bel. i fee where fhe points: fhe is willing enough to 
 
 give up Mifs Rufport's diamonds, now (he finds fhe fhall 
 
 be a gainer by the exchange. Be it fo ! 'tis what I 
 
 wifh'd. Well, Madam, I will return to Mifs Rufport her 
 
 H 2 own
 
 52 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 own jewels, and you fhall have others of tenfold their 
 value. 
 
 Louifa. No, Sir, you err mod widely ; it is my good 
 opinion, not my vanity, which you muft bribe. 
 
 Bel. Why, what the devil wou'd fhe have now ? Mifs 
 Dudley, it is ray wifh to obey and pleafe you, but I have 
 fome appreheniion that we miftake each other. 
 
 Louifa. 1 think we do : tell me, then, in few words, 
 what it is you aim at. 
 
 Bel. In few words, then, and in plain honefty, I muft 
 tell you, fo entirely am I captivated with you, that had 
 you but been fuch as it would have become me to have 
 call'd my wife, I had been happy in knowing you by that 
 name; as it is, you are welcome to partake my fortune, 
 give me in return your perfon, give me pleafure, give me 
 love ; free, difencumber'd, antimatrimonial love. 
 
 Loul/a. Stand off, and let me never fee you more. 
 
 Bel. Hold, hold, thou dear, tormenting, tantalizing girl ! 
 Upon my knees I fwear you fhall not ftir till you've con- 
 fented to my blifs. 
 
 Louifa. Unhand me, Sir : O Charles ! protect me, refcue 
 me, redrefs me. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 CHARLES DUDLEY enters. 
 
 Charles. How's this ! Rife, villain, and defend yourfelf. 
 
 Bel. Villain! 
 
 Charles. The man who wrongs that lady is a villain- 
 Draw ! 
 
 Bel. 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. 
 
 Bel. Well, Sir. 
 
 Charles. How is it, Mr. Belcour, you have done this 
 mean, unmanly wrong ; beneath the maik of generofity to 
 give this fatal ftab 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. 
 
 Bel. The brother ? Give yourfelf a truer title. 
 
 Charles. What is't you mean ? 
 
 Bel.
 
 A COMEDY. 
 
 53 
 
 Bel Come, come, I know both her and you : I found 
 you, Sir, (but how or why T know not) in the good 
 graces of Mifs Rufport (yes, colour at that 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 foolifh pity 
 fpar'd you, nor rouz'o her from the fond credulity in which 
 your artifice had lull'd her. 
 
 Charles. No, Sir, nor boafted to her of the fplendid 
 prelent you had made my poor Louifa ; the diamonds, Mr. 
 Belcour; how was that? What can you plead to that 
 arraignment ? 
 
 Bel. 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 ! (Thcyfght. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 LOUISA, and afterwards O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Loutfa> Hold, hold, for Heaven's fake hold ! Charles I - 
 Mr. Belcour ! Help ! Sir, Sir, make hafte, they'll murder 
 one another. 
 
 O'Fla. Hell and confufion ! What's all this uproar for ? 
 Can't you leave off cutting one another's throats, and mind 
 what the poor girl fays to you ? You've done a notable 
 thing, hav'n't you both, to put her into fuch a flurry ? I 
 think, o' my confcience, Ihe's the moil frighted of the 
 three. 
 
 Charles. Dear Louifa, recollect yourfelf; why did you 
 interfere ? 'Tis in your caufe. 
 
 Be!. Now cou'd I kill him for careffing her. 
 
 O'Fta. O Sir, your moft obedient ! You are the gentle- 
 man I had the honour of meeting here before ; you was 
 then running off at full fpeed like a Calmuck, now you 
 are tilting and driving like a bedlamite with this lad here, 
 that feems as mad as yourfelf: 'Tis pity but your country 
 had a little more employment for you both. 
 
 Bel. Mr. Dudley, when you've recover'd the lady, you 
 know where I am to be found. [Exit. 
 
 (ypla. Well then, can't you ftay where you are, and 
 that will fave the trouble of looking after you ? Yon vo- 
 latile
 
 54 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 latile 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 call'd you Dudley : Hark'e, young 
 man, are you fon of im friend the old captain ? 
 
 Charles. I am. Help me to convey this lady to her 
 chamber, and 1 {hall be more at Jeifure to anfwer your 
 queftions. 
 
 fypla. Ay will I : come along, pretty one ; if you've 
 had wrong done you, young man, you need look no fur- 
 ther for a fecond; Dennis O'Flaherty's your man for that: 
 but never draw your fword before a woman, Dudley; 
 damn it, never while you live draw your fword before a 
 woman. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VE. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT'S HOUSE. 
 
 LADY RUSPORT and SERVANT. 
 
 Scr. An elderly gentleman, who fays his name is Var- 
 land, dellres leave to wait on your ladyihip. 
 
 L. Riff. Shew him in ; the very man I wifh to fee : 
 Varland, he was Sir Oliver's folicitor, and privy to'all 
 his affairs ; he brings fome good tidings ; fome frefh 
 mortgage, or another l>ond come to light , they ftart up 
 every day. (VARLAND 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 paffed your time this age ? 
 
 Var. Truly, my lady, ill enough : I thought I muft 
 have followed good Sir Oliver. 
 
 L. Ruf. 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 father's will and pleafure it fhould oe fo, and I muft 
 iubmit. 
 
 Var. Your ladyihip inherits under a will made in the 
 year forty-five, immediately after Captain Dudley's mar- 
 riage with your fifter. 
 
 L. Ruf. I do fo, Mr. Varland ; I do fo. 
 
 Var. J well remember it ; I engroffed every fyllable ; 
 but I am furprized to find your ladyfhip fet fo little (lore 
 by this vaft acceffion. 
 
 L. Ruf.
 
 A COMEDY. 
 
 55 
 
 L. Ruf. Why you know, Mr. Varland, I am a mode- 
 rate woman ; I had enough before ; a fmall matter fatisfies 
 me; and Sir Stephen Rufport (Heaven be his portion!) 
 took care I (houdn't want that. 
 
 Var. Very true ; very true, he did fo ; and I am over- 
 joyed at finding your ladyihip in this difpofition ; for, truth 
 to fay, 1 was not without apprehenfion the news I have to 
 communicate would have been of fome prejudice to your 
 ladyship's tranquillity. 
 
 L. Ruf. News, Sir ! What news have you for me ? 
 
 Var. Nay, nothing to alarm you ; a trifle, in your pre- 
 fent way of thinking : I have a will of Sir Oliver's you 
 have never feen. 
 
 L. Ruf. A will ! Impoffible ! How came you by it, 
 pray ? 
 
 Var. I drew it up, at his command, in his Jaft illnefs: it 
 will lave you a world of trouble : it gives his whole efhte 
 from you to his tjrandfon, Charles Dudley. 
 
 Z. Rvf. To Dudley < His eft ate to Charles Dudley ? I 
 can't fupport it ! I ihall faint ! You've killed me, you 
 vile man ! I never fhall furvive it ! 
 
 Var. Look'e there now: I proteft, I thought you would 
 have rejoiced at being clear of the incumbrance. 
 
 L. Ruf. 'Tis falie ; 'tis ail a forgery, concerted between 
 you and Dudley ; why elfe did I never hear of it before ? 
 
 Var. Have patience, my lady, and I'll tell you: By Sir 
 Oliver's direction, I was to deliver this will into no hands 
 but his grandfon Dudley's : the young gentleman happen 'd 
 to 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 
 for feveral days ; upon my recovery, I purfued my journey, 
 found young Dudley had left Scotland in the interim, aiid 
 am now directed hither; where, as foon I can find him, 
 doubtlefs, I fhall difcharge my confcience, and fulfil my 
 GommifTion. 
 
 Z. Ruf. Dudley then, as yet, knows nothing of this 
 Will? 
 
 Var. Nothing ; that fecrct refts with me. 
 
 Z. Ruf. A thought occurs : by this fellow's talking of 
 his confcience, I mould guefs it was upon fale (ajide.} 
 Come, Mr. Varland, if 'tis as you fay, 1 muft fubmit. 
 I was fomewhat flurried at firft, "and forgot mylelf; I alk 
 
 your
 
 56 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 your pardon : this is no place to talk of bufinefs ; ftep with 
 me into my room ; we will there compare the will, and re- 
 
 folve accordingly Oh ! would your fever had you, and 
 
 I had your paper. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 Miss RUSPORT, CHARLES, and O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Char. So, fo ! My lady and her lawyer have retired to 
 clofe confabulation : now, Major, if you are the generous 
 man I take you for, grant me one favour. 
 
 O'Fla. Faith will I, and not think much of my genero- 
 iity neither ; for, though it may not be in my power to do 
 the favour you afk, look you, it can never be in my heart 
 to refufe it. 
 
 Charles. Cou'd this man's tongue do juftice to his 
 thoughts, how eloquent would he be ! (a/ide.) 
 
 Char. Plant yourfelf then in that room : keep guard, for 
 a few moments, upon the enemy's motions, in the chamber 
 beyond; and, if they fhould attempt a fally, flop their 
 march a moment, till your friend here can make good his 
 retreat down the back-flairs. 
 
 O'F/a. A word to the wife ! I'm an old campaigner ; 
 make the beft ufe of your time ; and truft me for tying the 
 old cat up to the picket. 
 
 Char. Hufh! hufti ! not fo loud. 
 
 Charles. 'Tis the office of a centinel, Major, you have 
 undertaken, rather than that of a field-officer. 
 
 G'Fla. 'Tis the office of a friend, my dear boy; and 
 therefore, no difgrace to a general. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 CHARLES and CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Char. Well, 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. 
 
 Char. Hold, hold ! fo vile a thing as money muft not 
 come between us. What (hall I fay 1 O Charles ! O 
 Pudley ! What difficulties have you thrown upon me ! 
 
 Familiarly
 
 A C O M E D Y. 57 
 
 Familiarly as we have lived, I fhrink not at what I'm do- 
 ing; and, anxioufly as I have fought this opportunity, my 
 fears almoft perfuade me to abandon it. 
 
 Charles. You alarm me ! 
 
 Char. Your looks and actions have been fo diflant, and 
 at this moment are fo deterring, that, was it not for the 
 hope that delicacy, and not difguft, infpires this condudt 
 in you, I fhould link with fliame and apprehenfion ; but 
 time prefles ; and I muft fpeak ; and plainly too Was 
 you now in pofleflion of your grandfather's eftate, as juftly 
 you ought to be; and, was you inclined to feek a compa- 
 nion for life, fhould you, or fliould you not, in that 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 
 happinefs, fo dear to me as your perfon ; but to bring po- 
 verty, difgrace, reproach from friends, ridicule from all the 
 world, upon a generous benefatre{s ; thievifhly to (leal 
 into an open, unreferved, ingenuous heart, O Charlotte I 
 dear, unhappy girl, it is not to be done. 
 
 Char. Nay, now you rate too highly the poor advan- 
 tages fortune alone has given me over you : how otherwife 
 could we bring our merit>to any balance? Come, my 
 dear Charles, I have enough ; make that enough ftill more, 
 by fharing it with me: fole 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 coun- 
 try 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 ! (ajide.) 
 
 Char. D'ye paufe ? Put me into his hands, while you 
 provide the means for our efcape : he is the moft generous, 
 the moft honourable of men. 
 
 Charles. Honourable ! moft honourable ! 
 
 Char. Can you doubt it? Do you demur? Have you 
 forgot your letter ? Why, Belcour 'twas that prompted me 
 to this propofal, that promifed to fupply the means, that 
 nobly offer'd his unaik'd affiftance 
 
 (O'FLAHERTY enters haftily.) 
 
 Q'Fla. Run, run, for holy St. Antony's fake, to horfe 
 1 and
 
 53 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 and away ! The conference is broke up, and the old lady 
 advances upon a full Piedmontefe trot, within piftol-fhot of 
 your encampment. 
 
 Char. Here, here, down the back-flairs ! O Charles, re- 
 member me !' 
 
 Charles. Farewell ! Now, now I feel myfelf a coward. 
 
 [*rf. 
 
 Char. What does he mean ? 
 
 O'F/a. Afk no queftions, but be gone : fhe has cooled 
 the lad's courage, and wonders he feels like a coward. 
 There's a damn'd deal of mifchief brewing between this 
 hyena and her lawyer: egad I'll ftep behind this fcreen and 
 liften : a good foldier muft fometimes fight in anibufti as 
 well as open field, (retires.) 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 LADY RUSPORT and VARLAND. 
 
 L. Ruf. Sure I heard fomebody. Hark ! No; only the 
 fervants going down the back-itairs. Well, Mr. Varland, 
 1 think then we are agreed : you'll take my money ; and 
 your conlcience no longer {lands in your way. 
 
 Var. Your father was my benefactor ; his will ought to 
 be facred ; but, 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 ; fo, in ihort, 
 Madam, I take your offer ; I will confer with my clerk, 
 who witneffed the will ; and to-morrow morning put it 
 into your hands, upon condition you put five thoufand 
 good pounds irito mine. 
 
 L Ruf. 'Tis a bargain : I'll be ready for you : farewell. 
 
 [Exi& 
 
 Var. Let me.confider Five thoufand pounds prompt 
 payment for deftroying this fcrap of paper, not worth fiv<? 
 farthings ; 'tis a fortune eafily earn'd ; yes ; and 'tis ano- 
 ther man's fortune eafily thrown away : 'tis a good round 
 Cum to be paid down at once for a bribe ; but 'tis a damn'd 
 rogue's trick in me to take it. 
 
 O'FLa. So, fo ! this fellow fpeaks truth to himfelf, tho? 
 he lies to other people but hufh ! (ajide.) 
 
 -Var. 'Tis breaking the truft of my benefactor ; that's a 
 foul crime; but he's dead, and can never reproach me 
 with it : and 'tis robbing young Dudley of his lawful pa- 
 trimony;
 
 A CO M E D Y. 
 
 59 
 
 trimony ; that's a hard cafe ; but he's alive, and knows no- 
 thing of the matter i 
 
 O Fla. Thefe lawyers are fo ufed to bring off the ro- 
 gueries of others, that they are never without an excufe for 
 their own. (ajide.} 
 
 Var. Were I affured now that Dudley would give me 
 half the money for producing this will, that Lady Rufport 
 does for concealing it, I would deal with him, and be an 
 honeft man at half price ; I v/ifh every gentleman of my 
 profeffion could lay his hand on his heart and fay the fame 
 thing. 
 
 Q'Fla, A bargain, old gentleman ! Nay, never ftart, 
 nor ftare, you wasn't afraid of your own confcience, never 
 be afraid of me. 
 
 Var. Of you, Sir; who are you, pray? 
 
 O'F!a. I'll tell you who I am : you feem to wifh to be 
 honeft, but want the heart to fet about it ; now I am the 
 very man in the world to make you fo ; for, if you do not 
 give me up that paper this very inftant, by the foul of me, 
 fellow, I will not leave one whole bone in your Ikin that 
 Shan't be broken. 
 
 Var. What right have you, pray, to take this paper from 
 me? 
 
 O'Ffa. What right have you, pray, to keep it from 
 young Dudley ? I don't know what it contains, but I am 
 apt to think it will be fafer in my hands than in your's ; 
 therefore give it me without more words, and lave yourtelf 
 a beating : do now; you had beft. 
 
 Var. Well, Sir, I may as well make a grace of necefiity. 
 There; I have acquitted my confcience, at the expence of 
 five thoufand pounds. 
 
 GCFla, 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 ? 
 
 Var. Well, you have got the paper ; if you are an honeft 
 man, give it to Charles Dudley. 
 
 O'/Ytf. An honeft man ! look at me, friend, 1 am a fol- 
 dier, this is not the livery of a knave ; I am an Irifhman, 
 honey ; mine is not the country of diihonour. Now, lir- 
 rah, be gone; if you enter thefe door?, or give Lady Ruf- 
 port the leaft item of what has pafled, I will cut off both 
 your ears, and rob the pillory of its due. 
 
 Var. I wilh I was once fairly out of his fight. [Exeunt. 
 1 2 SCENE
 
 to THE WEST INDIAN! 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 A Raom in STOCKWELL'S Houfe. 
 
 Stock. I mutt difclofe myfelf to Belcour ; this noble in- 
 ftance of his generofity, which old Dudley has been relat* 
 ing, allies me to him at once ; concealment becomes too 
 
 painful ; I (hall be proud to own him for my fon But 
 
 fee, he's here. 
 
 (BELCOUR enters, and throws himfelfupcn afopha.) 
 
 Bel. O my curfl tropical conftitution ! Wou'd to Hea- 
 ven I had been dropt upon the fnows of Lapland, and never 
 felt the blefled influence of the fun, fo I had never burnt 
 with thefe inflammatory paffions ! 
 
 Stock. So, fo, you feem diforder'd, Mr. Belcour. 
 
 Bel. 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 ? 
 
 Stock. Come, Sir, you've met a rafcal ; what o'that ? 
 general conclusions are illiberal. 
 
 Bel. 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 villain ! 'twas not to be pardon'd pray ne- 
 ver mind me, Sir. 
 
 Stock. Alas'! my heart bleeds for him. 
 
 Bel. And yet, I might have heard him : now, plague 
 upon that blundering Iriftiman for coming in as he did ; 
 the hurry of the deed might palliate the event: deliberate 
 execution has lefs to plead Mr. Stockwell, I am bad com- 
 pany to you. 
 
 Stock. 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 of curiofity wou'd be want of friendfhip. 
 
 Bel. 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. 
 
 Stock. '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 vour own bofom. 
 
 JBel.
 
 A C O M E D Y. i 
 
 J5f/. That fentiment demands my confidence : pray, fit 
 down by me. You muft know, 1 have an affair of honour 
 on my hands with young Dudley ; and, tho' I put up with 
 no man's infult, yet I wifti to take away no man's life. 
 
 Stock. I know the young man, and am appris'd of your 
 generofity to his father ; what can have bred a quarrel be- 
 tween you ? 
 
 Ed. A foolifh paffion on my fide, and a haughty pro- 
 vocation on his. There is a girl, Mr. Stockwell, whom 
 I have unfortunately feen, of moft uncommon beauty ; fhe 
 has withal an air of fo much natural modefty, that had I 
 not had good affurance of her being an attainable wanton, 
 I declare I fhou'd as foon have thought of attempting the 
 chaftity of Diana. 
 
 SERVANT enters. 
 
 Stock. Hey-dey, do you interrupt us ? 
 
 Set: Sir, there's an Irifli gentleman will take no denial ; 
 he fays he muft fee. Mr. Belcour directly, upon bufmefs of 
 the laft confequence. 
 
 Bel. Admit him ; 'tis the Irifh officer that parted us, and 
 brings me young Dudley's challenge ; I (hould have made 
 a long ftory of it, and he'll tell you in three words. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY enters. 
 
 O'FIa. Save you, my dear ; and you Sir ! I have a little 
 bit of a word in private for you. 
 
 Bel. Pray deliver your commands ; this gentleman is my 
 intimate friend. 
 
 Qi'Fla. Why then, Enfign Dudley will be glad to mea- 
 fure fwords with you, yonder, at the London Tavern, in 
 Bifhopfgate- Street, at nine o'clock you know the place. 
 
 Bel. I do ; and fhall obferve the appointment. 
 
 OTla. Will you be of the party, Sir ? we fhall want a 
 fourth hand. 
 
 Stock. Savage as the cuftom is, I clofe with your pro- 
 pofal ; and tho' I am not fully inform'd of the occafion of 
 your quarrel, I {hall rely on Mr. Belcour's honour for the 
 juftice of it ; and willingly ftake my life in his defence. 
 
 O'FIa. Sir, you're a gentleman of honour, and I (hall 
 be glad of being better known to you But hark'e, Bel- 
 cour, I had like to have forgot part of my errand : there 
 
 is
 
 6z THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 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 attempt the fitter 
 of a man of honour. 
 
 Bel. The lifter? 
 
 O'Fla. Ay, the lifter ; 'tis Englilh, is it not ? Or Trim ; 
 'tis all one ; you underftand me, his lifter, or Louifa Dud- 
 ley, that's her name I think, call her which you will : by 
 St. Patrick, 'tis a foolifh piece of buiinefs, Belcour, to go 
 about to take away a poor girl's virtue from her, when there 
 are fo many to be met with in this town, who have difpos'd 
 of their's to your hands. [Exit. 
 
 Stock. Why I am thunderftruck ! what is it you have 
 done, and what is the Ihoeking bufmefs in which I have 
 engaged ? If I underftand him right, 'tis the fifter of young 
 Dudley you've been attempting: you talk'd to me of a 
 profeft wanton ; the girl he fpeaks of has beauty enough 
 indeed to inflame your defires, but (he has honour, in- 
 nocence and fimplicity to awe the moft licentious paffion ; 
 if you have done that, Mr. Belcour, 1 renounce you, I 
 abandon you, I forfwear all fellowship or friendfhip with 
 you for ever. 
 
 Bel. Have patience for a moment ; we do indeed fpeak 
 of the fame perfon, but Ihe is not innocent, he is not 
 young Dudley's fifter. 
 
 Stock. Aftonilhing ! who told you this ? 
 
 Bel. The woman where fhe lodges ; the perfon who put 
 me on the purfuit, and contriv'd our meetings. 
 
 Stock. What woman ? What perfon ? 
 
 Bel. Fulmer her name is : I warrant you I did not pro- 
 ceed without good grounds. 
 
 Stock, Fulmer, Fulmer ? Who waits? (a Servant enters) 
 lend Mr. Stukely hither directly ; I begin to fee my way 
 into this dark tran faction : Mr. Belcour, Mr. Belcour, you 
 are no match for the cunning and contrivances of this in- 
 triguing town. (Stukely enters] Pr'ythee, Stukely, what 
 is the name of the woman and her hufband, who wereftopt 
 upon fufpicion of felling ftolen diamonds at our next-door 
 neighbour's, the jeweller? 
 
 Stukely. Fulmer. 
 
 Stock. So! 
 
 Bel. C'an you procure me a fight of thole diamonds ? 
 
 Stukely.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 63 
 
 Stukely. They are now in my hand ; I was defir'd to 
 fliow them to Mr. Stockvvell. 
 
 Stock. Give 'em to me: what do I fee? As I live, the 
 very diamonds Mifs Rufport fent hither, and which I 
 intrufted to you to return. 
 
 Ed. Yes, but 1 hetray'd that truft, and give 'em Mrs. 
 Fulmer to prffent to Mifs Dudley. 
 
 Stock. With a view no doubt to bribe her to compli- 
 ance? 
 
 Bel. I own it. 
 
 Stock. For fhame, for fhame ; and 'twas this woman's 
 intelligence you relied upon for Mifs Dudley's character? 
 
 Bel. I thought fhe knew her ; by Heaven, I wou'd have 
 died fooner than have infulted a woman of virtue, or a man 
 of honour. 
 
 Stock. I think you wou'd, but mark the danger of licen- 
 tious courfes; you are betray 'd, robb'd, abus'd, and, but 
 for this providential difcovery, in a fair way of being fent 
 out of fhe world with all your follies on your head Dear 
 Stukely, go to my neighbour, tell him I have an 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 punimment to reach 
 the villainy of thefe people ; but how in the name of won- 
 der cou'd you take any thing on the word of fuch an in- 
 former ? 
 
 Bel. Becaufe I had not liv'd long enough in your coun- 
 try to know how few informers words are to be taken ; 
 perfuaded however as I was of Mifs Dudley's guilt, I muft 
 own to you I was ftagger'd with the appearance of fuch in- 
 nocence, efpecially when I faw her admitted into Mifs 
 Rufport's company. 
 
 Stock. Good Heaven ! did you meet her at Mifs Ruf- 
 port's, and could you doubt her being a woman of repu- 
 tation ? 
 
 Bel. By you perhaps fuch a mi flake cou'd not have 
 been made ; but in a perfect ftranger, I hope it is venial ; 
 I did not know what artifices young Dudley might have 
 us'd to conceal her character ; I did not know what dif- 
 grace attended the detection of it. 
 
 Stock. I fee it was a trap laid for you, which you have 
 fiarrowly efcap'd ; yoa addrefs'd a woman of honour with 
 
 all
 
 64 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 all the loofe incenfe of a profane admirer, and you have 
 drawn upon you the refentment of a man of honour who 
 thinks hi^ifelf bound to protect her : Well, Sir, you muft 
 atone for this miftake. 
 
 Bel. To the lady the moft penitent fubmiffion I can 
 make is juftly due, but in the execution of an adt of juftice 
 it never {hall be faid my foul was fwayed by the leaft par- 
 ticle of fear : I have received a challenge from her brother ; 
 now, tho* I wou'd give my fortune, almoft my life itfelf, to 
 purchafe her happinefs, yet I cannot abate her one fcruple 
 of my honour ; I have been branded with the name of 
 villain. 
 
 Stock. Ay, Sir, you miftook her character, and he mif- 
 took yours ; err^r begets error. 
 
 Bel. Villain, Mr. Stockwell, is a harfh word. 
 
 Stock. It is a haHh word, and fhould be unfaid. 
 
 Bel. Come, come, it (hall be unfaid. 
 
 Stock. Or elfe what follows ? Why the fword Is drawn, 
 and to heal the wrongs you have done to the reputation of 
 the fifter, you make an honourable amends by murdering 
 the brother. 
 
 Be!. Murdering ! 
 
 Stock. 'Tis thus religion writes and fpeaks the word ; 
 in the vocabulary of modern honour there is no fuch term 
 But come, I don't defpair of fatisfying the one without 
 alarming the other ; that done, I have a difcovery to unfold 
 that you will then I hope be fitted to receive. 
 
 IND OF THE FOURTH ACT. 
 
 ACT
 
 A C O M E D Y. 65 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 The London Tavern. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY, STOCKWELL, CHARLES, and 
 BELCOUR. 
 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 /GENTLEMEN, well met! you underfhnd each 
 VjT other's minds, and as I fee you have brought nothing 
 but your fwords, you may fet to without any further cere- 
 mony. 
 
 Stock. You will not find us backward in any worthy 
 caufe ; but before we proceed any further, I would afk this 
 young gentleman, whether he has any explanation to re- 
 quire of Mr, Belcour. 
 
 Charles. Of Mr. Belcour none ; his actions fpeak for 
 themfelves: but to you, fir, I would fain propofe one 
 queftion. 
 
 Stock. Name it. 
 
 Charles. How is it, Mr. Stockwell, that I meet a man 
 of your character on this ground ? 
 
 Stock. I will anfwer you direclly, and my anfwer mall 
 not difpleafe you. I come hither in defence of the reputa- 
 tion of Mifs Dudley, to redrefs the injuries of an innocent 
 young lady. 
 
 O'Fla. By my foul the man knows he's to fight, only he 
 rnifhkes which fide he's to be of. 
 
 Stock. You are about to draw your fword to refute a 
 charge againft your fitter's honour ; you would do well, if 
 there were no better means within reach ; but the proofs 
 of her innocence are lodg'd'in our bofoms, and if we fall, 
 you deftroy the evidence that moft effectually can clear her 
 fame. 
 
 Charles. How's that, Sir ? 
 
 Stock. This gentleman could befc explain it to you, but 
 you have given him an undefervM name that feals his lips 
 againft you : I am not under the fame inhibition, and if 
 your anger can keep cool for a few minutes, I defire I may 
 tall in two witnefles, who will folve all difficulties at once. 
 , waiter ! bring thofe people in that are without. 
 
 Q'Fla. Out upon it, what need is there for fo much 
 K talking
 
 6 THE WEST INDIAN. 
 
 talking about the matter ; can't you fettle your differences 
 firft, and difpute about 'em afterwards ? 
 
 (FuLMER and Mrs. FULMER brought in.) 
 
 Charles. Fulmer and his wife in cuftody ? 
 
 Stock. Yes, Sir, thefe are your honed landlord and 
 landlady, now in cuflody for defrauding this gentleman of 
 certain diamonds intended to have been prefented to your 
 lifter. Be fo good, Mrs. Fulmer, to inform the company 
 why you fo groffly fcandalized the reputation of an inno- 
 cent lady, by perfuading Mr. Belcour that Mifs Dudley 
 was not the fifter, but the miftrefs of this gentleman, 
 
 Afrs. Ful. Sir, I don't know what right you have to 
 queftion me, and I (hall not anfwer till I fee occafion. 
 
 Stock. Had you been as iilent heretofore, Madam, it 
 xvould have faved you fome trouble ; but we don't want 
 vour confefiion. This letter, which you wrote to Mr. 
 Belcour, will explain you delign ; 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. Conftable, take charge of your prisoners. 
 
 Ful. Hold a moment : Mr. Stockwell, you are a gen- 
 tleman that knows the world, and a member of parliament ; 
 we fhall not attempt to impofe upon you ; we know we 
 are open to the law, and we know the utmoft it can do 
 againft us- Mr. Belcour has been ill ufed to be fure, and 
 fo has Mifs Dudley ; and, for my own part, 1 always con- 
 demn'd the plot as a very foolifh plot, but it was a child of 
 Mrs. Fulmer's brain, and me would not be put out of con- 
 ceit with it. 
 
 Airs. Ftfl. You are a foolifh man, Mr. Fulmer, fo 
 pry'thee hold your tongue. 
 
 Ful. Therefore, as \ was faying, if you fend her to 
 Bridewell, it won't be amifs ; and if you give her a little 
 wholefome dilcipline, (he rnay 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 difgrace upon my 
 prcfeffion. 
 
 St(>ck. 'Tis you, Mr. Fulmer, not I, that difgrace 
 your profeflion, therefore begone, nor expecl that I will 
 betray the interefts of mankind lo far as to {hew favour to 
 fuch incendiaries. Take 'em away -, 1 bluih to think fuch 
 
 wretches
 
 A C O M E D Y. 67 
 
 wretches fhould have the power to fet two honeft men at 
 variance. [Exeunt Fulmer, sV. 
 
 Charles. Mr. Belcour, we have miftaken each other ; let 
 us exchange forgivenefs. I am convinced you intended no 
 affront to my fifter, and afk your pardon for the expreflion 
 I was betrayed into. 
 
 Bel. 'Tis enough, Sir ; the error began on my fide, and 
 was Mifs Dudley here, I would be firft to atone. 
 
 Stock. Let us all adjourn to my houfe, and conclude the 
 evening like friends : you will find a little entertainment 
 ready for you ; and, if I am not miftaken, Mifs Dudley and 
 her father will make part of our company. Come, Major, 
 do you confent ? 
 
 O'Fla. Moft readily, Mr. Stockwell ; a quarrel well 
 made up, is better than a victory hardly earned. Give me 
 your hand, Belcour ; o* my confcience you are too 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 your- 
 /elf. 
 
 CfFla. By my foul, I've no faculty at recollecting my- 
 felf ; 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 ; hut \ 
 confefs you have thoroughly rous'd my curiofity; 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 STOCKWELL'S Houfe. 
 
 CAPT. DUDLEY, LOUISA, WSTUKELY. 
 
 Dud. And are thofe wretches, Fulmer and his wife, in 
 fafe cuftody? 
 
 Stuke. They are in good hands, I accompanied them to 
 
 jhe Tavern, where your fon was to be, and then went 
 
 K 2 in
 
 68 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 in fearch of you. You may be fure Mr. Stockwell will 
 enforce the law againft them as far as it will go. 
 
 Dud. What mifchief might their curfed machinations 
 have produced, but for this timely difcovery ! 
 
 Lou. Still I am terrified ; I tremble with apprehen- 
 fion 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 unravell'd. 
 
 Stuke. Mr. Stockwell is with them, Madam, and you 
 have nothing to fear ; you cannot fuppofe he would aik you 
 hither for any other purpofe, but to celebrate their recon- 
 ciliation and to receive Mr, Belcour's atonement. 
 
 Dud. No, no, Louifa, Mr. Stockwell's honour and dif- 
 cretion guard y(j>u 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 fatisfac- 
 tion on that fcore in an amicable way. 
 
 Lou. Wou'd to Heaven they were return'd ! 
 
 Stuke. You may expect them every minute ; and fee 
 Madam, agreeably to you wifh, they are here. [*>. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 CHARLES enters, and afterwards STOCKWELL and 
 O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Lou. O Charles, O brother, how cou'd you ferve me 
 fo, how cou'd you tell me you was going to Lady Ruf- 
 port's and then fet out with a defign of fighting Mr. Bel- 
 cour ? But where is he : where is your antagonift ? 
 
 Stock. Captain, I am proud to fee you, and you Mifs 
 Dudley, do me particular honour : We have been ad- 
 jufting, Sir, a very extraordinary and dangerous miftake, 
 which I take for granted my friend Stukely has explain'd 
 to you. 
 
 Dud. 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, arid I am much too well acquainted with 
 your character to fuppofe you cou'd abet him in fuch de- 
 lign ; I have no doubt therefore all things will be fet to 
 rights in very few words when we have the pleafure of 
 feeing Mr. Belcour. 
 
 Stock*
 
 A C O M E D Y. 69 
 
 Stock. He has only ftept into the compting-houfe and 
 will wait upon you dire6tly : You will not be over ftrit, 
 Madam, in weighing Mr. Belcour's condudt to the mi- 
 nuteft fcruple ; his manners, paflions 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 in- 
 dulgence. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 BELCOUR enters, bows to Miss DUDLEY. 
 
 Bel. lam happy and afham'd to fee you ; no man in 
 his fenfes wou'd offend you ; 1 forfeited mine and err'd 
 againft the light of the fun, when I overlooked your vir- 
 tues; but your beauty was predominant, and hid them, 
 from my fight ; I now perceive T was the dupe of a moft 
 improbable report, and humbly entreat your pardon. 
 
 Lou. Think no more of it ; 'twas a miftake. 
 
 Bel. My life has been compos'd of little elfe ; 'twas 
 founded in myftery, and has continued in error : I was 
 once given to hope, Mr. Stockwell, that you was to have 
 deliver'd me from thefe difficulties, but either I do not de- 
 ferve your confidence, or I was deceived in my expecta- 
 tions. 
 
 Stock. When this lady has confirm'd your pardon, I 
 fhall hold you deferving of my confidence. 
 
 Lou. That was granted the moment it was afk'd. 
 
 Bel. To prove my title to his confidence, honour me fo 
 far with your's as to allow me a few minutes converfation 
 in private with you. [She turns to her father. 
 
 Dud. 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 con- 
 fpiracy of my aunt Rufport's : I think I have waited with 
 great patience. 
 
 O Fla. 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 tranfa<5tion. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE
 
 70 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 SCENE V. 
 BELCOUR and LOUISA. 
 
 Bel. Mifs Dudley, I have folicited this audience to re- 
 peat to you my penitence and confufion : How {hall I 
 atone ? What. reparation can I make to you and virtue ? 
 
 Lou. To me there's nothing due, nor any thing de 
 manded 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, compleat not your 
 licentious triumph, hut raife her, refcue her from ihame 
 and forrow, and reconcile her to herfelf again. 
 
 JScl. I will, I will ; by bearing your idea ever prefent in 
 itiy thoughts, virtue (hall keep an advocate within me : but 
 tell me, lovelieft, when you pardon the offence, can you, 
 all perfe,& as you are, approve of the offender ? As I now 
 ceafc to view you in that falfe light I lately did, can you, 
 and in the fulnefsof your bounty will you, ceafe alfo to re- 
 flect upon the libertine addreffes I have paid you, and look 
 upon me as your reform 'd, your rational admirer? 
 
 Lou. Are fudden reformations apt to laft ? and how can 
 I be fure the firft fair face you meet will not enfnare affec- 
 tions fo unfteady, and that I fhall not lofe you lightly as I 
 gain'd you ? 
 
 Bel. Becaufe tho' you conquer'd me by furprize, I have 
 no inclination to rebel ; becaufe flnce the firfl moment that 
 I faw you, every inftant has improv'd you in my eyes, be- 
 caufe by principle as well aspaffionl am unalterably your's; 
 in fhort there are ten thoufand caufes for my love to you, 
 would to Heaven I could plant one in your ioft bofom that 
 might move you to return it ! 
 
 Lou Nay, Mr. Belcour 
 
 BcL I know I am not worthy your regard ; I know I'm 
 tainted with a. thoufand faults, fick of a thoufand follies, 
 but there's a healing virtue in your eyes that makes reco- 
 very certain ; I cannot be a villain in your arms. 
 
 Lou. That you can never be ; whomever you fhall 
 honour with your choice, my life upon't that woman. 
 
 will
 
 A C O M D Y. 71 
 
 will be happy ; it is not from fufpicion that I hedtate, it is 
 from honour ; 'tis the feverity of my condition, it is the 
 world that never will interpret fairly in our cafe. 
 
 Bel. Oh, what am I, and who in this wide world con- 
 cerns himfelf for fuch a namelefs, fuch a friendleis thing 
 as I am ? I fee, Mifs Dudley, I've not yet obtain'd your 
 pardon. 
 
 Lou. Nay, that you are in full poffefiion of. 
 
 Bel. Oh, feal it with your hand then, lovelieft of w,o- 
 men, confirm it with your heart ; make me honourably 
 happy, and crown your penitent not with your pardon 
 only, but your love. 
 
 Lou. My love ! 
 
 Bel. 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 aufpicious ! 
 Doubt not, deliberate not, delay not : If happinefs be the 
 end of life, why do we flip a moment ? 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 O TLAHERTY enters, and afterwards DUDLEY and 
 CHARLES with STOCKWELL. 
 
 O'Fla. Joy, joy, joy ! fing, dance, leap, laugh for joy f 
 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 grand- 
 father'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. 
 
 Lou. What is it you tell me? O Sir, inftrudl: me to 
 fupport this unexpected turn of fortune. [ To her father. 
 
 Dud. Name not fortune; 'tis the work of Providence, 
 'lis the juftice of Heaven that wou'd not fuffer innocence 
 to be opprefs'd, nor your bafe aunt to profperin her cruelty 
 jttwl cunning. 
 
 fervan: wbifyers BELCOUR, and he goes out. 
 
 O'Fla.
 
 72 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 O'Fla. You fliali pardon me, Captain Dudley, but you 
 muft not overlook St. Patrick neither, for by my foul if 
 he had not put it into my head to flip behind the fcreen 
 when your righteous aunt and the lawyer were plotting to- 
 gether, I don't fee how you wou'd ever have come at the 
 paper there, that Mafter Stockwell is reading. - 
 
 Dud. True my good friend, you are the father of this 
 difcovery, but how did you contrive to get this will from 
 the lawyer r 
 
 O'Fla. By force, my dear, the only way of getting any 
 thing from a lawyer's clutches. 
 
 Stock. Well, Major, when he brings his acYion 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 viciffitudes 
 of life, my next delight will be in oSering you an afylum 
 in the bofom of your country. 
 
 O'Fla. 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 toge- 
 ther. 
 
 Dud. Ay, Major, much about that time have I been 
 beating the round of fervice, and 'twere well for us both 
 to give over ; we have flood many a tough gale and abun- 
 dance of hard blows, but Charles fhall 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'Fla. Agreed, and you may take it as a proof of my 
 efteem, young man, that Major O'Fiaherty accepts a 
 favour at your hands, for by Heaven I'd fooner ftarve, 
 than fay I thank you to the man I defpife : But I be- 
 lieve you are an honeft lad, and I'm glad you've trounc'd 
 the old cat, for on my confcience I believe I muft other- 
 wife have married her myfelf to have let you in for a fhare 
 of her fortune. 
 
 Stock. Hey-day, what's become of Belcour? 
 Lou. One of your fervants call'd him out juft now, and 
 fecmingly on fome earneft occafion* 
 
 Stock.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 73 
 
 'Stock. I hope, Mifs Dudley, he has atou'd to you. as a 
 gentleman ought. 
 
 Lou. 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. 
 
 Stock. What has he ddne ; and what can be too much ? 
 Pray Heaven, it may be as I wifli ! [a/tde. 
 
 Dud. Let us hear it, child. 
 
 Lou. With confufion for my own unworthinefs, I con- 
 fefs to you he has offer'd me 
 
 Stock. Himfelf. 
 
 Lou. 'Tis true. 
 
 Stock. 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 goo'd friend, afllft me in difpofmg 
 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. 
 
 Dud. 'Twere vile ingratitude in me to doubt his merit 
 What fays my child? 
 
 O'Fla. Begging you pardon now, 'tis a frivolous fort 
 of a queftion, that of your's ; for you may fee plainly 
 enough by the young lady's looks, that ihe fays a great 
 deal, though me {peaks never a word. 
 
 Charles. Well, fitter, I believe the Major has fairly in- 
 terpreted the ftate of your heart. 
 
 Lou. I own it ; and what muft that heart be, which 
 love, honour, and beneficence like Mr. Belcour's can make 
 no impreffion on ? 
 
 Stock. I thank you : What happinefs has this hour 
 brought to pafs. 
 
 O'Fla. Why don't we all fit down to fupper then and 
 snake a night on't. 
 
 Stock. Hold, here comes Belcour. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 BELCOUR introducing Miss RUSPORT. 
 
 Eel. Mr. Dudley, here is a fair refugee, who properly 
 comes under your protection ; ftie is equipt for Scotland, 
 but your good fortune, which I have related to her, feems 
 inclin'd to fave you both the journey Nay, Madam, 
 never go back ; you are amongft friends. 
 
 L Charles.
 
 74 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Charts. Charlotte! 
 
 Char. The fame ; that fond officious girl, that haunts 
 you every where ; that perfecuting fpirit 
 
 Charles. Say rather, that protecting angel ; fuch you 
 have been to me. 
 
 Char. O Charles, you have an honeft, but proud heart. 
 
 Charles. Nay, chide me not, dear Charlotte. 
 
 Bel. Seal up her lips then ; (he is an adorable girl ; her 
 arms are open to you ; and love and happinefs are ready to 
 receive you. 
 
 Charles. Thus then I claim my dear, my deftin'd wife. 
 
 \embraclng her, 
 
 SCENE VIII, 
 
 LADY RUSPORT enters. 
 
 L. Ruf. Heyday ! mighty fine ! wife truly ! mighty 
 well ! kifling, embracing did ever any thing equal this ? 
 Why you fhamelefs huffey ! But I won't condefcend to 
 wafre a word upon you You, Sir, you, Mr. Stock- 
 well) you fine, fan&ified, fair*dealing man of confcience, 
 is this the principle you trade upon ? Is this your neigh- 
 bourly fyftem, to keep a houfe of reception for run-away 
 daughters, and young beggarly fortune-hunters? 
 
 CfFla. Be advis'd now, and don't put yourfelf in fuch a 
 paflion ; \ve were all very happy till you came. 
 
 L. Ruf. Stand away, Sir ; hav'nt I a reafon to be in a 
 paffion ? 
 
 GTla* Indeed, horrey, and you have, if you knew all. 
 
 L. Ruf. Come, Madam, I have found out your haunts ; 
 Hifpofe tourfeif to return home with me : young .man, let 
 me never fee you within my doors again: Mr. Stockwell, 
 1 fhall report your behaviour, depend on it. 
 
 Stock. Hold, Madam, I cannot confent to lofe Mifs 
 Rufport's company this evening, and I am perfuaded you 
 won't infift upon it; 'tis an un motherly action to inter- 
 rupt your daughter's happinefs in this manner, believe me 
 it. is. raiprfw 
 
 L. Rnf t Her happinefs truly ; upon my word ! and I 
 luppote it's as un motherly action to interrupt her ruin ; 
 /or what but ruin muft it be to marry a beggar ? I think 
 my fifter had a proof of that, Sir, when flie made choice of 
 yxni. [To CAPT. DUDLEY. 
 
 Dud.
 
 A C O M E D Y. 75 
 
 Dud. Don't be too lavifii of your fpirits, Lady Ruf- 
 port. 
 
 O'F/a. By my foul you'll have occafion for a fip of the 
 cordial elixir by and by. 
 
 Stock. It don't appear to me, Madam, that Mr. Dudley 
 can be called a beggar. 
 
 L. Ruf. But it appears to me, Mr. Stockwell ; I am apt 
 to thiuk a pair of colours cannot furnim fettlement quite 
 fufficient for the heirefs pf Sir Stephen Rufport, 
 
 Char. But a good eftate in aid of a commiflion may do 
 fomething. 
 
 L. Ruf. A good eftate, truly ! where fhou'd he get a 
 good eftate pray ? 
 
 Stock. Why fuppofe now a worthy old gentleman on 
 his death-bed fhould have taken it in mind to leave him 
 
 L. Ruf. Hah ! what's that you fay ? 
 O'Fla. O ho ! you begin to fmell a plot, do you ? 
 Stock. Suppofe there iliould be a paper in the world that 
 runs thus " I do hereby give and bequeath all my eftates, 
 " real and perfonal, to Charles Dudley, fon of my late 
 " daughter Louifa, &c. &c. &c." 
 
 L. Ruf. Why I am thunder ftruck ! by what contri- 
 vance, what villainy did you get pofleflion of that paper ? 
 
 Stock. There was no villainy, Madam, in getting poflef- 
 fion .of it i the crime was in concealing it, none in bringing 
 it to light. 
 
 L. Ruf. Oh, that curfed lawyer, Varland ! 
 O'F/a. 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 me of his own accord 
 for nothing at all, at all. 
 
 L. Ruf. Is it you that have done this ? Am I foil'd by 
 your blundering contrivances, after all ? 
 
 G'Fla. '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 ; do fight 
 even now, and you fhall have no caufe to complain. 
 
 L. RuJ. Am I become an object of your pity then ? 
 
 TnfufFerable ! confufion light amongft you ! marry and be 
 
 wretched : let me never fee you more. [ Exit. 
 
 L 2 Char.
 
 7 6 THE WEST INDIAN: 
 
 Char. She is outrageous ; I fuffer for her, and blufh to 
 fee her thus expofed. 
 
 Charles. Come, Charlotte, don't let this angry woman 
 difturb'our happinefs : we will fave her in fpite of herfelf ; 
 your father's memory fhall not be ftained by the difcredit 
 of his fecond choice. 
 
 Char. I truft implicitly to your difcretion, and am hi ail 
 things yours. 
 
 BeL Now, lovely but obdurate, does not this example 
 foften? 
 
 Lou. What can you afk for more ? Accept my hand, 
 accept my willing heart. 
 
 Bel. O blifs unutterable ! brother, father, friend, and 
 you the author of this general joy 
 
 O'Fla. Bleffing 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 end 
 on't. 
 
 Stock. Hold for a moment ! I have yet one word to in- 
 terpofe Intitled by my friendfhip to a voice in your dif- 
 pofal, I have approv'd your match ; there yet remains a fa- 
 ther's confent to be obtain'd. 
 
 BeL Have I a father ? 
 
 Stock. You have a father : did not I tell you I had a dif- 
 covery to make ? Compofe yourfelf : you have a father, 
 who obferves, who knows, who loves you. 
 
 Bel. Keep me no longer in fufpenfe ; my heart is fof- 
 ten'd for the affe&ing difcovery, and nature fits me to re- 
 ceive his bleffing. 
 
 Stock. I am your father. 
 
 BeL My father ? Do I live ? 
 
 Stock. I am your father. 
 
 Bel. It is too much ; my happinefs o'erpowers me ; to 
 gain a friend and find a father is too much ; I blufli to think 
 how little I deferve you. [They embrace. 
 
 Dud. See, children, how many new relations fpring 
 from this night's unforefeen events, to endear us to each 
 other. 
 
 O'FIa. O my confcience, I think we fhall be all related 
 by and bye. 
 
 Stock. How happily has this evening concluded, and yet 
 how threatening was its approach ! let us repair to the fup- 
 per room, where 1 will unfold to you every circumftance of 
 
 my
 
 A C O M E D Y. 77 
 
 my myfterious flory. Yes, Belcour, I have watch'd you 
 with a patient, but enquiring eye, and I have difcover'd 
 through the veil of fome irregularities, a heart beaming 
 with benevolence, and animated nature, fallible indeed, 
 but not incorrigible ; and your election of this excellent 
 young lady makes me glory in acknowledging you to be 
 my fon. 
 
 Bel. I thank you, and in my turn glory in the father I 
 have gained: fenfibly impreft with gratitude for fuch ex- 
 traordinary difpenfations, I befeechyou, 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 I will turn to reafon and obey. 
 
 END OF THE PLAV*
 
 EPILOGUE/ 
 
 Written ly D. G. EJ'q. 
 SPOKEN BY MRS. ABINGTOX. 
 
 2f. B. The Lines in Italics are to befpoken in a. catechife Tone. 
 
 /CONFESS, good folks, has not Mifs Rufpojt fliewn, 
 
 \^_j Strange whims for SEVENTEEN HUNDRED SEVENTY-ONE ? 
 
 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 fafhioned poet : 
 
 I am point blank againft him, and I'll fhew it : 
 
 And that my tongue may more politely run, 
 
 Make me a lady - Lady Blabington. 
 
 Now, with a rank and title to be free, \ 
 
 I'll make a catechifm and you fhall fW, 
 
 What is the veritable Beaume de Fie: J 
 
 As I change place, I ftand for that, or this, 
 
 My Lady queftions firft - then anfwers Mifs. 
 
 (She fpeaks as my Lady.) 
 
 " Come, tell me Child, what were our modes and drefs, 
 " In thofe ftrange times of that old fright Queen Befsr" 
 And now for Mifs 
 
 (She changes place^ and fpeaks for 
 
 Wheh Befs nvas England's queen , 
 Ladies ivere difmal beings, feldotnfeen j 
 *Tbefe rofe betimes^ and breakfajied asjbon 
 On beef and beer^ then ftudied Greek till noon; 
 Unpainted cheeks with blujh of health did glow ^ ~| 
 
 Berujfd and fardingaF d from top to toe, 
 Nor neck*) nor ancles ivould they e r uerjhe e w. 
 
 Learnt Greek! (laughs,) Our outfide head takes half a day; 
 Have we much time to drefs the injiile, pray ? 
 No heads drefs'd a la Greque; the ancients quote, 
 There may be learning in a. papillate ; 
 
 Cards
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Cards are our claflick* ; and I, Lady B, 
 In learning will not yield to any fhe, 
 Of the late founded female univerfity. 
 But now for Lady Blab . 
 
 (Speaks as my Lady.) ' 
 
 " Tell me, Mifs Nancy, 
 " What fports and what employments did they fancy S" 
 
 (Speaks as Mifs.) 
 
 The vulgar creatures feldom left their houfes, 
 But taught their children, nvork'd, and lov 1 d their fpoufes * 
 The ufe of cards at Chriflmas only knetu, "J 
 
 They play 'd 'for little, and their games iverefeiv, I 
 
 One-and-thirty, Put, All-fours, and Lantera-Loo : 
 They bore a race of mortals flout andboney, 
 And never beard the name of Macaroni. . 
 
 (Speaks as my Lady.) 
 
 " Oh brava, brava ! that's my pretty dear 
 
 ** Now let a modern, modifh fair appear; 
 
 " No more of thefe old dowdy maids and wives, 
 
 " Tell how fuperior beings pafs their lives." 
 
 (Speaks as Mifs.) 
 
 Till noon they Jleep, from noon till night they drefs t 
 From night till morn they game it more or lefs, 
 Next night the fame fweet courfe of joy run o'er, ~\ 
 
 Then the night after as the night before, 
 And the night after that, encore, encore .' 
 
 (She comes forward.) 
 
 Thus with our cards wtfouffle off all forrow, ' 
 To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow ! 
 We deal apace, from youth unto our prime, 
 To the laft moment of our tabby '-time ; 
 And all our yefterdays, from rout 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 life true fpirit give it praife ; 
 Don't fnarl and figh for good Queen Befs's days: 
 For all you look fo four, and bend the brow, 
 You all rejoice with me, you're living now.
 
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