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LORD CHESTERFIELD. 
 
 A DRAMA. 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSON.^. 
 
 GEORGE II., KING OF ENGLAND 
 
 LORD CHESTERFIELD. 
 
 LORD MARCH. 
 
 LORD STAIR. 
 
 SIR PAUL METHUEN. 
 
 SOLOMAN DAYROLLES. 
 
 EDMOND HOYLE. 
 
 JOHN, A Servant. 
 
 CATHERINE, QUEEN OF ENGLA 
 
 COUNTESS OF YARMOUTH. 
 
 DUCHESS OF HALIFAX. 
 
 LADY GERTRUDE HOTHAM. 
 
 LADY FANNY SHIRLEY. 
 
 MISS FITZWILLIAMS. 
 
 U 10 
 
 X)'<Xjx/ 
 
 ^~ 
 
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ACT I. 
 
 SCENE r. The Hague — On the Foraidt. 
 
 Enter Lord Stair and Sir Paul Methuen. 
 
 Lord S. It is the same old song, Chesterfield, Chesterfield, 
 Chesterfield. Everything that is said, done or thought is credited 
 to him. and now to cap it all comes this news that the king is 
 considering him for Secretary of State. 
 
 S. P. M. My Lord, you are jealous. 
 
 Lord S. Oh, damn it, Sir Paul, a man of your sense ought to 
 know jealousy from disgust. 
 
 S. P. M. Ry George, I do, my Lord. I thought you would 
 see I was only joking. 
 
 Lord S. What has he ever done to merit such promotion? 
 What abiUty has he ever shown? Compare him to you and me. 
 Has he done as much as conclude the treaty of Madrid? No. 
 You and I have both spent years in the service of our country— 
 and there are scores of others. And yet the king will disregard 
 a forest of giant oaks and select a sapling to lean upon. Do I 
 exaggerate? 
 
 S. P. M. Not in the least, my Lord, upon my soul. 
 
 Lord S. A sapling because it bows to every breeze. What 
 are my Lord's qualifications? A pair of easy bending knees, an 
 ever present smile and a sugar-coated tongue. We serve our 
 country and deserve honor at the hands of the King, my Lord 
 Chesterfield flatters his majesty's mistress and obtains honor. I 
 tell you, Sir Paul, in courts the hypocrite outruns the honest man. 
 
 S. P. M. But he has not been appointed yet. 
 
 Lord S. No. And if my efforts can avail me anything he 
 will not be. The Queen, as you know, will do all she can 
 against him. Her hatred is that of a woman slighted — which as 
 you know can never be abated. Lord Harrington will help me, 
 I know, and if I an not misinformed the Duke of Newcastle will 
 object to my Lord Chesterfield as his partner. 
 
 k. 
 
S. p. M. I think you have the game very well io hand. In 
 truth, I see no chance to lose. 
 
 Lord S. You forget, Sir Paul, this game, as others, is not out 
 until! it's played out. But while they are busy there we must 
 not be idle here. My Lord's failure to conclude the treaty would 
 aid us greatly. We might be able to spoil the pastry. 
 
 S. P. M. My Lord is to receive to-morrow night, does he ex- 
 pect you? 
 
 Lord S. Oh yes, indeed, my Lord's politeness is his winning 
 card. I would rather be in hell for just that length of time, but 
 I will have to go to disarm suspicion. 
 
 S. P. M. I am afraid my Lord smells a moiise already. 
 
 Lord S. I'll throw the scent if possible. By' Jove, I have it. 
 I'll toast him as our next Secretary of State. 
 
 S. P. M. By George, my Lord, that is good. You are sly — 
 devilish sly. But we must be going. 
 
 Lord S. There comes two of my Lord's worshippers now. 
 
 S. P. M. On their way to morning service, I slippose. 
 
 Enter Lord M.^rch and Edward Hovle. 
 
 My Lord, good morning. Edward, I salute you. By George, 
 upon my soul, you both look happy. 
 
 Hoyle. And why shouldn't we look happy and be happy? 
 We've just had a bottle of wine and are going after another one. 
 
 Lord S. In that case we will not stop you. Come on, Sir 
 Paul. 
 
 Lord M. You'll sup with the Baroness to-night? 
 
 Lord S. Oh, yes, I suppose so, we usually go to the devil be- 
 fore we go to bed. 
 
 Hoyle. There goes a pair of knaves. 
 
 Lord M. I don't dispute your word, in fart, I think I would 
 use a stronger word. But, by George, yonder goes one of the 
 graces 
 
 Hoyle. Fat and forty but by no means fair. 
 
 Lord M. She is positively hideous. 
 
 Hoyle. And yet it was only yesterday I saw her smiling at my 
 Lord Doddington, who was pouring a lot of flattery in her ear, 
 or rather her mouth, for she had that wide open. 
 
Lord M. My dear Hoyle, if you had studied human nature 
 you would not wonder at that. God never formed a woman 
 ugly enough be insensible to flattery. But, there goes another 
 style of ugliness. My Lady Gordon is ugly because nature made 
 her so, but Miss Bellenden is ugly artificially. 
 
 Hoyle. What would you say she resembled? 
 
 Lord M. Nothing — absolutely nothing. An allwise Provi- 
 dence never made anything resembling a self-made woman. 
 
 Hoyle. A camel with peacock plumage would approach it, I 
 think. 
 
 Lord M. Only approximately. Upon my soul I think if God 
 made women the shape they make themselves, they would all be 
 ribald atheists. 
 
 Hoyle. Yonder comes my Lord Chesterfield with his blue 
 ribbon and star. 
 
 (They speak to him.) 
 
 I knew he would speak to us. 
 
 Lord M. Yes, and I would back the old boy for taking his 
 hat off against the whole kingdom and France either. He has 
 not changed the shape of that hat for twenty years. Look at it. 
 There it goes again. 
 
 Hoyle. This time to his charming cousin. 
 
 Lord M. Do you see that great big, awkward, pock-marked, 
 snuff colored man who hardly touches his clumsy beaver in re- 
 ply? Damn his confounded impudence. Do you know who 
 that IS. 
 
 Hoyle. No, curse him, who is he? 
 
 Lord M. It's one Johnson, a dictionary maker, about whom 
 my Lord Chesterfield wrote some capital papers when his dic- 
 tionary was coming out to patronize the fellow. I know they 
 were capital. I heard Horry Walpole say so, and he knows all 
 about that kind of thing. Confound the impudent school master. 
 
 Hoyle. Hang him, he ought to stand in a pillory. • 
 
 Lord M. The fat man he is walking with is another of your 
 writing fellows — a printer — his name is Richardson, he wrote 
 "Clarissa," you know. 
 
 Hoyle. By Jove, I thought your dictionary maker would 
 
touch the ground to that bow-legged old gentleman in the pearl 
 colored suit. I'll swear he almost lost his balance. 
 
 Lord M. That is my Lord Bishop of Salisbury, the cock of 
 the walk among your preaching fellows. 
 
 Hoyle. I understand my Lord Bishop will brook no criticism. 
 
 Lord M. He is like other preachers in that respect. They 
 all seem to consider a criticism of themselves an insult to the 
 Almighty. But is it possible that the Countess and Lady Ger- 
 trude are coming to speak to us? 
 
 Hoyle. It looks that way, indeed. 
 
 Lord M. This is an instance of the mountain going to Mo- 
 hammed. 
 
 Hoyle, A pair of them I think, my Lord. 
 Enter Countess of Yarmouth and Lady Gertrude Hotham. 
 
 My dear Countess, we bid both you and Lady Gertrude a 
 pleasant morning. 
 
 Countess. You are just the parties we were looking for. 
 
 Lord M. We feel highly honored. I assure you. 
 
 Countess. My Lord Chesterfield and DayroUes had to leave us 
 to attend to some business, so we thought we would take you up. 
 
 Hoyle. It seems that our selection was from necessity — not 
 from choice. But then, my Lord, it is better to be the second 
 choice of some than the first choice of others. 
 
 Countess. My dear Edmond, that was very well said. You 
 are not near the fool you look. 
 
 Hoyle. I am sorry madam I cannot return the compliment. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. A truce to your bickerings, some of the 
 strangers will take you for husband and wife. 
 
 Countess. My dear Gertrude, you should never attempt sar- 
 casm — you are too nervous to properly handle the weapon. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. It is better to be too nervous than too clumsy. 
 
 Lord M. I beg you both to desist. A scene in a public 
 place would be disgraceful. 
 
 Countess. My Lord, you have become very considerate of 
 late. 
 
 Lord M. I owe it to the company. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Have you seen my Lord Chesterfield this 
 morning? 
 
Lord M. Not to talk to him. Is there any news. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. A letter from the Duke of Bedford reports 
 opposition to his appointment. 
 
 Lord M. And pray, who opposes. 
 
 Countess. My Lord did not name the source. 
 
 Lord M. I must see him and find out. We can stop that. 
 For every check there is a checkmate given. 
 
 Countess. My Lord, don't leave us so suddenly. We are on 
 our way to the corner for a lunch. I am going to London in a day 
 or so to see his Majesty and do a little checkmating on my own 
 account. It would be easy sailing if it wasn't for that vixen of 
 a wife of his. But it is not the first time she and I have asked 
 for the same thing, and it probably won't be the last. Come on, 
 I'll stand the treat and charge it to his Majesty. 
 
 {Exemit.) 
 
 SCENE II. Room of Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Present — Dayrolles. Eider — John. 
 
 John. My Lord Chesterfield presents his compliments and 
 says he will join you presently. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
 Enter Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Day. My Lord, good morning. I feared I would be too 
 early. 
 
 Lord C. It is my custom to rise with the lark. 
 
 Day. And to retire after it. 
 
 Lord C. I did last night, but I had good company. 
 
 Day. And a good supper — a little too much wine, perhaps — 
 but on the whole a good supper. 
 
 Lord C. I thought you were a little partial to the wine. In 
 fact, I feared when we parted that you would not reach home. 
 
 Day. I always stop in good season. I lost my heart one 
 
time and my fortune another, but I make it a rule never to lose 
 my head. 
 
 Lord C. That is just like you DayroUes, you always were a 
 stickler for trifles. 
 
 Day. I only drank two bottles of wine. My Lord Melville 
 told me of an occasion when he disposed of seven bottles. What 
 do you think of that? 
 
 Lord C. Out of chanty I would believe him a liar — otherwise 
 I must think him a beast. 
 
 Day. Speaking of beasts reminds me of my Lord Stair and 
 Sir Paul Methuen. I have a suspicion that they are doing what 
 they can to keep the treaty from being concluded. 
 
 Lord C. What makes you think so? 
 
 Day. My evidence probably would not convict them before 
 a perfectly impartial court. 
 
 Lord C. A perfectly impartial court, Dayrolles, is a theory — 
 nothing more — let us have the evidence. 
 
 Day. On two occasions since yesterday at noon 1 have seen 
 my Lord Stair with the Pensionary. Heretofore, as you know, 
 he has scarcely noticed him in passing. 
 
 Lord C. A circumstance at least. Anything further? 
 
 Day. Nothing except my Lord Stair and Sir Paul seem to be 
 together even more than usual. 
 
 Lord C. Knowing them both I could hardly say that was a 
 circumstance. They must associate with each other if they as- 
 sociate at all, and you know man is a gregarious animal. 
 
 Day. And yet I would urge promptness. Do you meet to- 
 day? 
 
 Lord C. No, not to-day. The Count was not well on yester- 
 day and I feared he would be worse to-day. 
 
 Day. Nothing serious, I hope. 
 
 Lord C. No, nothing in particular, only a headache or dizzi- 
 ness. 
 
 Day. I would not suppose that would interfere. 
 
 Lord C. Never transact business with a sick man is a good 
 rule to follow. In our particular business one rash word might 
 undo six months' work. Those who suppose that men act 
 
rationally because they are rational beings know very little of the 
 world. The Count if he pricks his finger with a pin is out of 
 humor — much more so when he overloads his stomach. 
 
 Day. You believe then that a man's head must be reached 
 through his stomach? 
 
 Lord C. Perhaps not as you put it, Dayrolles, but 1 am fully 
 convinced that the fate of an empire may depend upon the con- 
 dition of a man's liver. 
 
 Day. Have you any further news from London? 
 
 Lord C. Yes, some very damaging evidence agamst our 
 friends here. 
 
 Day. I had thought all along that my Lord Stair and Sir 
 Paul were engaged in some low work. 
 
 Lord C. You could hardly expect them to do any other sort. 
 
 Day. No, to be sure, I could not. Sir Paul is a braggart 
 and my Lord Stair a moral coward. 
 
 Lord C. An immoral one I should say. I am not surprised 
 at the former for there is no record of Sir Paul having any 
 parents, but my Lord Stair's father was a good man. 
 
 Day. But I've heard his mother was no angel. 
 
 Lord C. Which only goes to prove that virtue is not heredi- 
 tary though vice is. 
 
 Day. But tell me my Lord, the source of your information. 
 
 Lord C. The Duke of Bedford. 
 
 Day. And how did he get it? 
 
 Lord C. My Lord Stair's half-witted brother blurted the 
 whole matter out in a spree with Bedford and some others. 
 
 Day. Told the whole truth. 
 
 Lord C. Yes, from what Bedford says he must have told the 
 whole truth. By George, Dayrolles, it is hard to say which is the 
 biggest fool in this world, the man who tells the whole truth or 
 the man who tells no truth at all. I do not think their scheme 
 will work, however. The Countess has promised me to go to 
 London, and then matters will right themselves. Between the 
 Mistress and the Queen it is an open secret as to which stands 
 highest in his Majesty's favor. But, by the way, Dayrolles, you 
 will not fail me to-morrow night? 
 
Day. No, indeed, my Lord. You may count on me. But 
 who will be here? 
 
 Lord C. Only a few — to celebrate the King's birthday. 
 
 Day. How old is his Majesty? 
 
 Lore C. Don't ask, DayroUes. Kings and women have 
 birthdays but they never grow older. 
 
 Day. But who will be here? 
 
 Lord C. Well, to begin with. Lady Fanny Shirley. 
 
 Day. People say you begin with her and end with her. 
 
 Lord C. And some people prefer attending to other folk's 
 business than their own — then the Countess, of course. 
 
 Day. The Countess and Lady Fanny Shirley. Who else? 
 
 Lord C. My charming cousin of Halifax, my sister, Gertrude 
 and Miss Fitzwilliams, I think, concludes the list of fair ones. 
 For the gentlemen, yourself and Hoyle, Lord March, Sir Paul 
 Methuen and Lord Stair. 
 
 Day. My Lord, you will surely not invite them. 
 
 Lord C. I have already done so. 
 
 Day. Why, damn it, my Lord, they are a pair of contempti- 
 ble little puppies. 
 
 Lord C. My dear Dayrolles, that is strong language. Libel- 
 ous, I might say. 
 
 Day. And yet, my Lord, if the dogs don't object, they have 
 no reason to do so. What guarantee have you that they will 
 behave while here? 
 
 Lord C. We must trust ourselves for that. The best security 
 we have against other people's ill manners is our own good- 
 breeding, But, Dayrolles, my object is to disarm suspicion. 
 Make them think we do not suspect them and they are m uch 
 easier handled. 
 
 Day. My Lord, you may be right. But come, it's getting late 
 and we have not had our walk. 
 
 Lord C. You will excuse me a moment. 
 
 Day. Certainly, my Lord. 
 
 Exit Lord Chesterfield. 
 He may be right, but I wish it over with. 
 
9 
 
 Enter Lord Chesterfield 
 
 Lord C. What are you doing, Dayrolles? 
 
 Day. I was only thinking. 
 
 Lord C. Thinking— impossible — I don't believe it. 
 
 ACT IL 
 
 SCENE L The Hague. Room in Lord Oiesterficld' s House. 
 
 C Countess of Yarmouth ~] 
 p \ Lady Gertrude Hotham ! At table 
 
 I Lord March ( playing whist. 
 
 [ Dayrolles. J 
 
 Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. The Duchess of Halifax. 
 
 Enter Duchess of Halifax. 
 
 Duchess. My dear Lord, I am so glad to get here. I con- 
 sider it both a pleasure and an honor. 
 
 Lord C. My dear cousin, you mistake. The pleasure is 
 mine, the honor England's. 
 
 Duchess. Why, there is my dear Countess. 
 
 Lord C. At her usual game. 
 
 Duchess. The Countess says cards have kept us women from 
 a great deal of scandal. 
 
 Lord C. Upon which question I think the Countess speaks 
 advisedly. 
 
 Countess. That was a horrid hand. Only two trumps and 
 those small ones. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Down on your luck, as usual. You should 
 remember, Countess, luck never runs with the beautiful. 
 
10 
 
 Day. We got the odd trick anyway. 
 
 Lord M. And you ought to have made more. 
 
 Countess. How? 
 
 Lord M. By following the rule. Hearts was your strong suit. 
 You led the ace of diamonds. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. My dear Countess that was not luck. 
 
 Countess. I never heard of such a rule. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Oh, yes you have. "Lead from your strong 
 suit, study your partner's hand and attend to the score. ' 
 
 Countess. There is no such rule. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. It is according to Hoyle. 
 
 Countess. I'll lay a half crown it is not. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Done. 
 
 Duchess. I'll hold stakes. 
 
 Countess. And who will hold you? 
 
 Lord M. Leave that to Hoyle also. 
 
 Countess. Perhaps my Lord Chesterfield will settle it. 
 
 Lord C. I trust your grace will excuse me. Upon whist 
 Hoyle is authority. I am not. Besides I would much rather 
 arbitrate between nations than decide between women. 
 
 Duchess. Here comes Mr. Hoyle. 
 
 Enter Hoyle and Miss Fitzwilliams. 
 
 Hoyle. My dear Duchess I am so glad to see you. 
 
 Day. Edmond, you are just in time. 
 
 Hoyle. For what? 
 
 Countess. To settle a dispute, of courre. Did we ever want 
 you for anything else? 
 
 Lord M. Is there such a rule as "Lead from your strong suit, 
 study your partner's hand and attend to the score?" 
 
 Hoyle. Most assuredly, one of the best established rules in 
 whist. 
 
 Countess. Well, I never heard of it. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. My dear Countess, the error you make is a 
 common one. You should not measure the science of whist by 
 your own knowledge of the game. But you will pay my half 
 crown? 
 
11 
 
 Countess. Certainly I will. Did I ever fail to pay a bet. 
 One would think that you had won half a kingdom. It's your 
 deal. Do you intend to play or do you want to stop and enjoy 
 your riches? 
 
 Lady Gertrude. My dear Countess, do contain yourself. The 
 flush of anger is not your becoming color. 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. My Lord Stair and Sir Paul Methuen. 
 
 Enter Lord Stair and Sir Paul Methuen. 
 
 Sir Paul. My dear Lord, I must thank you for your kindness. 
 I have not been so honored since the King of Spain gave a bull 
 fight in my name. By Jove, upon my soul I have not! Why, 
 there is your lovely cousin. I must speak to her. My dear 
 Duchess, I make my most profound bow. By Jove, upon my 
 soul I have not seen so pretty a sight since I left Madrid. 
 
 Duchess. Sir Paul, you flatter me. 
 
 Sir Paul. The truth is never flattery. 
 
 Duchess. Sir Paul, I have had trouble. I know you will 
 console me. 
 
 Sir Paul. To be sure I will. What is it Duchess? 
 
 Duchess. But yesterday I lost my diamond brooch, a present 
 from Lord Douglass, you remember. 
 
 Sir Paul. That is a trifle merely. You should not worry over 
 it. A tallow dip would add no lustre to a moonbeam. You 
 would look well without anything on. 
 
 Duchess. Oh, Sir Paul! 
 
 Sir Paul. I mean without any jewelry on. 
 
 Duchess. Oh, oh, my dear Sir Paul! 
 
 Countess. There, I supposed you had it. Did you have 
 twelve or thirteen trumps that time, my dear? 
 
 Lady Gertrude. My dear Countess, don't get angry. I had 
 only seven. 
 
 Countess. Indeed. I think you had your share. 
 
12 
 
 Lord M. If I might suggest, Countess, you led your knave im- 
 properly. 
 
 Countess. Oh, I did? I suppose every one can teach me 
 how to play this game? I led knave from king, queen, knave 
 and seven spot. 
 
 Lord M. You lead the knave when you hold more than one 
 small card. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. That is the rule. 
 
 Countess. I beg pardon, dear, but I prefer to have the ques- 
 tion decided by an unbiased judge. 
 
 Day. Edmond. 
 
 Duchess. You will have to excuse Mr. Hoyle. He cannot 
 come now. We are discussing; the threatened war with France. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. But we insist upon his coming. Such trifles 
 as war must wait. We are settling the laws of whist. 
 
 Duchess. In that case I suppose we will have to yield. 
 
 Countess. Edmond, what is the rule for leading king and 
 knave? 
 
 Hoyle. From king, queen, knave and one small card lead 
 king, from king, queen, knave and more than one small card 
 lead knave. 
 
 Countess. You have changed the rule since we played last. 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. Lady Fanny Shirley. 
 
 Hoyle. John is leading trumps now. 
 
 Duchess. Yes, in hearts. 
 
 Enter Lady Fanny Shirley. 
 
 Lady Fanny. My dear Lord, am I late? 
 
 Lord C. The last. 
 
 Lady Fanny. Better late than never, they say. 
 
 Lord C. Best at any time, I say, in this instance. 
 
 Lady Fanny. My Lord. 
 
 Exeunt Lord Chesterfield and Lady Fanny Shirley. 
 
13 
 
 Hoyle. My Lord is happy now. 
 
 Sir Paul. Upon my soul, I think he has good reasons to be 
 so. Barring the ones present, I don't think God ever made a 
 prettier woman. 
 
 Countess. Sir Paul, I think she shares your opinion. 
 
 Duchess. I wonder my Lady Chesterfield stands it. They 
 say he divides his time equally between the two. 
 
 Countess. And pray if he divides it equally how can my 
 Lady Chesterfield object? 
 
 Hoyle. My dear DayroUes, you should remember that third 
 hand with queen, ten, nine and one small card plays nine, not 
 small one on partner's lead of ace. 
 
 Lord M. If my Lady Fanny had not come it would indeed 
 have been a case of Hamlet without the melancholy prince. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. I think you had better say a melancholy 
 prince without Ophelia. 
 
 Sir Paul. Speaking of Hamlet reminds me of the article in 
 the Spectator of last week ascribing Shakespeare's plays to 
 Bacon. 
 
 Hoyle. Some fool starts that story every century. 
 
 Day. I remember hearing my grandfather say he spoke to 
 Sir Francis Bacon about that very thing. 
 
 Duchess. And what did Sir Francis reply? 
 
 Day. He simply shrugged his shoulders and said "give the 
 devil his due." 
 
 Hoyle. That was the devil of answer. Oh, Heavens, my 
 Lord! 
 
 Lord M. What is the matter? 
 
 Hoyle. You've trumped your partner's ace. 
 
 Countess. I may be wrong, but I thought it was customary 
 for four only to play this game. 
 
 Hoyle. I humbly beg your pardon. Countess, I did not mean 
 to interfere. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. We will play the rubber and stop. 
 
 Duchess. Sir Paul if you liked Madrid so, why did you leave? 
 
 Sir Paul. I had to leave because of a plot I discovered among 
 the courtiers to kill me. But I don't blame them, By Jove, 
 
14 
 
 upon my soul I don't! Every lady at court, and there must 
 have been a thousand, was madly in love with me — and beauti- 
 ful, great heavens! That is where the Creator showed his handi- 
 work. Eyes that pierced the very soul of man, lips like red cut 
 ruby, and faces — no, I will not try. There is no standard of 
 comparison. Ah, but there was life there. 
 
 Enle7 Lord Chesterfield and Ladv Fanny Shirley. 
 
 Sport that was royal. My Lord Chesterfield would shoot a 
 dozen quail and call that sport, but we hunted beasts of prey. I 
 remember one day just before sundown I killed three tigers and 
 a lion — 
 
 Duchess. Oh, heavens! 
 
 Lady Fanny. Are you quite sure the count is correct, Sir Paul? 
 
 Sir Paul. Indeed it is, and the very next morning I killed 
 four tigers and three lions. 
 
 Lord C. Oh, fie, Sir Paul, that was arrant poaching. 
 
 Sir Paul. But it is true, I'll swear it. 
 
 Exeunt Sir Paul and Duchess. 
 
 Lady Fanny. Sir Paul is a peculiar man. 
 
 Lord C. Yery peculiar. Were he to tell me the earth was 
 round I would be constrained to doubt it. 
 
 Lady Fanny. He must be either a great fool or a great liar. 
 
 Lord C. Both, my Lady Fanny, both. The greatest fools 
 are the greatest liars. I always judge a man's truth by his de- 
 gree of understanding. 
 
 Lady Fanny. Then you would class jir Paul with Ananias? 
 
 Lord C- And give Ananias second place. 
 
 Enter Lord Stair and Miss Fitzwilliams. 
 
 Miss Fitz. Ah, my dear lord, you are just the person we are 
 looking for. What do you think of Lady Annie Gordon's in- 
 tended marriage to young Lord Castlemaine? 
 
 Lord C. I trust you'll excuse me. Opinions at best are un- 
 safe, at times, dangerous. 
 
15 
 
 Miss Fitz. Would you advise her to marry him? 
 
 Lord C. Indeed, I would not, nor would I advise her to 
 marry anyone else. In matters of religion and matrimony I 
 never give any advice, because I will not have anybody's tor- 
 ments in this world or the next laid to my charge. 
 
 Miss Fitz. I say the young lord is one of the biggest rakes in 
 England. 
 
 Lady Fanny. And what has that to do with the marriage? 
 You certainly can't expect ladies in England to marry virtuous 
 men? 
 
 Lord S. And why not, Lady Fanny? 
 
 Lady Fanny. For the best of reasons, my lord. There are 
 none. 
 
 Lord S. It's always that way. The woman is the angel— the 
 man the devil. Without woman's help no man could be a rake. 
 
 Lady Fanny. I think some are born that way, my lord. 
 
 Lord S. Sampson had his Delilah, Anthony, his Cleopatra- 
 Lady Fanny. And Adam, his Eve. 
 
 Lord S. I thank you for the suggestion. Eve did cause 
 Adam's Jail. 
 
 Lady Fanny. She was deceived by the devil. 
 
 Lord S. There are no serpents now. 
 
 Lady Fanny. Perhaps not, my lord, but man has played the 
 devil's part since then. 
 
 Lord S. Men are bold in what they do, women hide their 
 sins. Pope expresses my sentiments when he says: 
 
 "Men, some to business, some to pleasure take, 
 But every woman is at heart a rake." 
 
 Lady Fanny. And like Pope, my lord, you err in judging all 
 womankind by those who prefer your company. 
 
 Lord C. Come, let's stop this keen encounter of our wits be- 
 fore its leads to bloodshed. 
 
 Exeunt all but players. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. That gives us the odd trick. 
 Lord M. And the odd game. 
 
16 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Countess, you are doing better; with con- 
 stant practice I think you'll learn in time. 
 
 Countess. I wish I could say as much for you, my dear. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. You could if you regarded the truth as light- 
 ly. But come, we'll dance awhile before the supper. 
 
 Exeunt all. 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. (Taking up cards.) It is my deal, Sally. The gen- 
 tlemen are always entitled to the deal. That is one of the higher 
 laws of whist. (Deals.) My dear Sally, it is your play. Yes. 
 hearts are trumps. You should remember that, but then I don't 
 blame you. If the Countess of Yarmouth and the Duchess of 
 Halifax and a thousand other ladies do not remember, I ought 
 not to expect you to do so. Trumps are trifles to encumber 
 woman's mind. Oh, my dear Sally! You ought to remember 
 that the queen was the highest spade out. Always study your 
 partner's hand — and your opponent's also, if you have a chance. 
 You should not have led trumps out then. When hearts are 
 trumps young ladies should be careful how they lead. Ah, that 
 gives me the odd trick and the game. 
 
 Exit John with table. 
 
 SCENE II. The Same. The Dining Hall. 
 
 Present — Lord Chesterfield. Lord March, Lord Stair, Dayrolles, 
 Hoyle, Sir Paul Methuen, Countess of Yarmouth, Duchess 
 of Halifax, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Lady Fanny Shirley, 
 and Miss Fitzwilliams, seated about table and John stand- 
 ing in background. 
 All have just finished drinking and Lord March is resuming 
 his seat. 
 
 Hoyle. Well said my lord, excellently well said, upon my 
 soul! 
 
17 
 
 Sir Paul. The best thing I've heard since I returned to Eng- 
 land, upon my soul, I swear it is! 
 
 Lady Fanny. I really think I shall have to put it in my 
 memoirs. Edmond it is your turn now. 
 
 Hoyle. (Rising.) What shall it be? 
 
 Countess. Anything or nothing, as you please. 
 
 Hoyle. Then here is to woman — place that subject under 
 which head you please. What do the poets say of her? 
 
 Shakespeare says: 
 
 "All that life can rate, worth name of life, 
 In thee hath estimate." 
 
 And Milton: 
 
 "O, fairest of creation! 
 Last and best of all God's works." 
 
 And Otway adds: 
 
 "O, woman, lovely woman; nature made thee 
 To temper man; we had been beasts without you." 
 
 But every rose has its thorns. Listen to Pope and Southey. 
 I quote the first: 
 
 "And yet believe me, good as well as ill, 
 Woman's at best a contradiction still." 
 
 And the second echoes: 
 
 "Three things a wise man will not trust, 
 The wind, the sunshine of an April day and woman's 
 plighted troth." 
 
 Dry den strikes a medium, listen! 
 
 "As for women, though we scorn and flout 'em. 
 We may live with — but cannot live without 'em." 
 
 I call her the fancy work in God's scheme of creation — the 
 border line between humanity and divinity. 
 
 Here is to woman, who may be found at the head of everything 
 that is good — and at the bottom of everything that is evil. (They 
 drink.) 
 
18 
 
 Sir Paul. Excellent, upon my soul! 
 
 Countess. Edmond, that was neat, 'twas wondrous neat —for 
 you. 
 
 Duchess. You spoiled a good toast by one sentence. 
 
 Lady Fanny. You ruined the pudding, Edmond, with a pinch 
 of salt. 
 
 Hoyle. I meant no offense ladies, I assure you. 
 
 Lady Fanny. My lord, we wait your toast. 
 
 Lord C. (Rising.) I give you our gracious king. (All rise.) 
 May he have long life, health, happiness and loyal subjects. 
 (They drink.) 
 
 Lord S. And I add, wisdom to name our generous host his 
 next Secretary of State. 
 
 Day. I think you had better let some other give that toast. 
 
 Lord S. What do you mean by that? 
 
 Day. I mean you are not sincere or else you've changed 
 front since yesterday. 
 
 Lord S. You are beneath my notice, but if my Lord Chester- 
 field's seconds your insult, I'll answer hmi in this way. 
 
 (Attempts to throw a glass of wine in Lord Chesterfield's face, 
 and is stopped by Dayrolles.) 
 
 Lord C. Dayrolles, I heg you to desist. My Lord Stair is 
 my guest. John, fill my lord's glass. 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 SCENE I. London. King' s Comal Chatnber. 
 
 Present— Thk King and Queen. 
 
 Queen. But tell me, what he has to recommend him. 
 
 King. However much you may belittle and berate him, I re- 
 gard him as a man of many virtues. 
 
 Queen. A man of many virtues. That is the first time I ever 
 heard such a thing charged to him — or to any other man in Eng- 
 land. 
 
19 
 
 King. \'irtue is supposed to be an attribute of women only 
 and perhaps rightly so, but I did not use the word in its narrow- 
 sense. 
 
 Queen. Then perhaps you will name these virtues, or if they 
 are too numerous, at least a few of them. 
 
 King. To begin with, he is a man of excellent manners. 
 
 Queen. I grant you that. His gloves are always new and 
 folded properly, his wig is newly powdered, his clothes as spot- 
 less as an infant virgin, his shoes without a blemish. His bows 
 are always the same, his smile quite broad enough to please the 
 most sensitive, his words chosen with the precision of clock work. 
 But do manners make the man? Is England to be governed by 
 a tailor's model? 
 
 King. I think you quite misjudge my Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Queen. I think I judge him as correctly as yourself. 
 
 King. Has my lord done anything to make you jealous? 
 
 Queen. I do not think I have cause to be jealous of him. I 
 leave that to others. 
 
 King. What do you mean? 
 
 Qveen. I mean my Lord Chesterfield is careful not to offend 
 in any way. 
 
 King. I was sure of that. The knowledge of the man assured 
 me of that fact. 
 
 Queen. The cause for his dismissal £hould|be more weighty 
 than mere jealousy. 
 
 King. That is my opinion also. 
 
 Queen. You have promised me to ask his resignation. 
 
 King. He is one I cannot do without. 
 
 Queen. Cannot do without. The King of England dependent 
 on a man. I won't believe it. Had any other person said that 
 I would call it treason. 
 
 King. You are quite too generous. My lord is a great help. 
 His opinions are sober, sound and satisfactory. 
 
 Queen. And you do not intend to keep yorr promise, then? 
 
 King. What promise? 
 
 Queen. To dismiss my Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 King. I do not think I shall. 
 
20 
 
 Queen. I have read that kings make promises to break them. 
 I have thought you an exception to the rule. 
 
 King. I made no such promise. 
 
 Queen. You did. 
 
 King. Where was it made and when? 
 
 Queen. On yesterday in this very room. 
 
 King. I did not make it. 
 
 Queen. 'Tis bad enough to break a promise, 'tis worse to 
 deny all knowledge of it, but kings are like other men — a little 
 flattery, a little fawning and their most determined purposes are 
 as chaff. 
 
 King. I say I did not make the promise. That should end it. 
 
 Queen. Lying ill becomes a King of England. 
 
 King. By Jove! Do you know to whom you speak? 
 
 Queen. I know full well. 
 
 King. Then have a care, some things I will not stand. 
 
 Oueen. You are very brave when talking to a woman. 
 
 King. I caution you again. Remember I am a King. 
 
 Queen. And I am a Queen. 
 
 King. But I am your sovereign. 
 
 Queen. And I am your wife- May it please your grace I'll 
 talk to you again. As to our rank I thmk the honors even. 
 
 Exit Queen. 
 
 King. By Jove, upon my soul, I did well to hold my own 
 in that — and I am not so sure I held it. I would rather charge 
 a battery than undertake to stop a woman's tongue. But I like 
 her for it. By Jove, upon my soul, I am prouder of her than I 
 ever was before. She is every inch a Queen. But why should 
 she hate I-ord Chesterfield? It is surely not jealousy and yet 
 jealousy is the only basis of a woman's hate. 
 
 Ente?- Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Lord C. May it please your grace, I hope I don't intrude. 
 King. Not in the least, my Lord. You are wery welcome. 
 What can I do for you? 
 
21 
 
 Lord C. That depends on what your grace will do. You 
 might appoint George Stanhope, colonel, you might make the 
 Bishop of Killaloe Bishop of Waterford, but these I did not come 
 to urge; I have other matters. 
 
 King. And what are they, my Lord? 
 
 Lore C. The manner in which the Duke of Newcastle is act- 
 ing is becoming quite unbearable. 
 
 King. In what respect, my Lord? 
 
 Lord C. May it please your grace it is not quite reputable. 
 We have joint powers and yet he and my Lord Sandwich, who 
 as you know full well is at the Hague, carry on a secret corre- 
 spondence concerning matters purely public. 
 
 King. My Lord do you complain of such a thing as this? 
 
 Lord C. I do. 
 
 King. It seems to me to be beneath your notice. 
 
 Lord C. Ordinarily it would be, but some of these matters 
 they arrange are quite distasteful to a great many of the best 
 people, others are ill-timed and unstatesmanlike. May it please 
 your grace, I protest. I can no longer take my share of the 
 public indignation or contempt on account of measures in which 
 I have no voice. 
 
 King. If such is the case the practice must be stopped. I 
 will look into it at once. 
 
 Lord C. You need not let them know that I objected. It 
 would do no good. 
 
 King. None in the least and might provoke. By Jove, there 
 is the Countess! 
 
 Enter Countess of Yarmouth. 
 
 Countess. I hope I do not intrude. 
 
 King. Indeed, you do not. Does she, my Lord? 
 
 Lord C. On the contrary, I think you are quite welcome. 
 
 Countess. I feared you would be considering questions touch- 
 ing the welfare of the kingdom. 
 
 King. Matters of state can be put off. People can be serious 
 at any time. 
 
22 
 
 Lord C. His grace, I think, reverses the old order of business 
 first, pleasure afterwards. 
 
 King. It is the privilege of a King. 
 
 Countess. And one of which they are very jealous. 
 
 Lord C. If you will excuse me, I have some other matters 
 to look after. 
 
 Lmg. With the greatest of pleasure, my Lord. 
 
 Countess. Only upon condition that you will soon return. 
 King's become tiresome when seen everyday. 
 
 Lord C. I accept the condition with all my heart. 
 
 Exit Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Countess. There goes an excellent man. What good taste 
 your grace displayed in choosing him. 
 
 King. If I remember right, he was urged by some one. 
 
 Countess. I cannot deny the soft impeachment. In fact, I 
 am quite proud of the part I played. My Lord Chesterfield is 
 misunderstood by many. He is a man of many virtues. 
 
 King. I never heard him called virtuous before. 
 
 Countess. A man may have many virtues and yet not be 
 virtuous. But he is a good man and I dare say an extraordinary 
 and most useful secretary. 
 
 King. I should not wonder if there are others just as good. 
 
 Countess. It has been a long time since England had one as 
 good. 
 
 King. Upon rny soul, your zeal is truly commendable. I 
 think it is worthy of a better cause. 
 
 Countess. Upon that point we differ. It is in a good cause. 
 Has your grace ever given my lord's brother the rank he wanted? 
 
 King. Not yet. 
 
 Couatess. And are you going to do so? 
 
 King. I have not decided. 
 
 Countess, What need is there for hesitation? He is fully 
 qualified, fully deserving and I think my Lord Chesterfield has a 
 claim on you to the extent of an office for his brother. 
 
 King. My Lord might have ransacked the four corners of the 
 earth and not have found a more earnest advocate. 
 
23 
 
 Countess. Now, you are jealous. Ah, don't deny it. If 
 there is anything a woman can tell it is when a man is jealous. 
 
 King. They ought to be able to do so. They usually practice 
 it enough. But you are quite mistaken. 
 
 Countess. Ah, no I am not. You ought to be ashamed to 
 grow jealous of your Walmoden because she admires another 
 man. 
 
 King. It was only admiration, then? 
 
 Countess. There, I knew you were jealous, and now you 
 have admitted it. That is just like a man. Certainly, it was 
 admiration — nothing more, A woman may admire many men — 
 she can love but one. You know whom I love. 
 
 (Puts her arms about his neck and kisses him.) 
 
 King. The Queen is in the next room. 
 
 Countess. Indeed? And what do I care for that. There is 
 no law against kissing. And I will kiss you as often as I please. 
 Queen or no Queen. But tell me are you going to give George 
 Stanhope the rank of colonel? 
 
 King. I cannot say. 
 
 Countess. Why can't you say? You do not have to consult 
 anyone. It is simply yes or no. Come, say yes and I'll kiss 
 you again. 
 
 King. But this is a matter which ought to be considered. 
 
 Countess. O, bother the consideration! Make the appoint- 
 ment first and consider it afterwards. Yes or no, which shall it 
 be? I must be off. 
 
 King. I'll make him colonel. 
 
 Countess. There, I knew you would, (kisses him) you dear 
 old fellow. I'll kiss you again (kisses him) just for good meas- 
 ure. But I really must be going. Goodbye, sweetheart, till we 
 meet again. 
 
 King. Don't stay too long. 
 
 Countess. What is too long? 
 
 King. Thirty minutes. 
 
 Countess. You dear fellow. You are taking lessons from 
 Lord Chesterfield — and by the way that reminds me of the object 
 of my visit. 
 
24 
 
 King. Indeed? I would like for you to come sometime with- 
 out an object. 
 
 Countess. There are certain parties, so I hear, who are en- 
 deavoring to have my Lord Chesterfield dismissed. 
 
 King. Indeed? 
 
 Countess. I fear you are not as ignorant as you appear. 
 Promise me you will countenance no such plot. 
 
 King. I have heard of no such plot. 
 
 Countess. Promise me you'll let me know in case they do ap- 
 pear. I would like to give them a piece of my mind. 
 
 King. I would caution you against so rash an act as that. 
 
 Countess. Your Grace is facetious. 
 
 King. It is a habit we kings have. 
 
 Countess. But you promise me. 
 
 King. I'll not forget it. 
 
 Countess. I knew you would do me that little favor. Good- 
 bye, again (kisses him); I am off this time. (Throws him a kiss.) 
 
 Exit Countess. 
 
 King. Some kisses come from the heart, some from the brain. 
 The Countess kisses too often to mean it all. That which is 
 uppermost in the mind is deepest in the heart. She says she 
 only admires my Lord Chesterfield. Admiration is the bud the 
 flower of which is love. I'll think of my Lord Chesterfield's dis- 
 missal. It may be best for the country. 
 
 Enter The Queen. 
 
 Queen. Do I intrude? 
 King. You never do. 
 
 Queen. I am careful to select my time — otherwise I might. 
 Kmg. What do you mean? 
 
 Queen. I mean that three make a crowd. What was the 
 Countess talking about? 
 King. Of many things. 
 Queen. How many? 
 King. I cannot say. 
 
25 
 
 Queen. Did she speak of anything except my Lord Chester- 
 field? 
 
 King. I am not sure. Why do you ask? 
 
 Queen. I heard her tell my lord that her mission was com- 
 plete; that she had done him excellent service. He replied that 
 he owed her a kiss for that and she said she usually preferred to 
 collect her debts promptly. I heard no more. 
 
 King. Your modesty overcame you in the nick of time. 
 
 Queen. By this time they had gotten out of hearing. 
 
 King. Do you mean to say you were eaves-dropping? 
 
 Queen. Call it that if you like, it is a woman's right. The 
 manner is not material, I heard those words. 
 
 King. My dear, I fear you are jealous. 
 
 Queen. Oh, no, not I, indeed. 
 
 King. You ought to love the Walmoden, for she loves me. 
 
 Queen. Then her heart must be big enough for two. 
 
 Enter Lord Stair and Sir Paul Methuen. 
 
 Lord S. May we come in? 
 
 Queen. Indeed, you may and be quite welcome. We were 
 just discussing the matter of my Lord Chesterfield's dismissal. 
 
 Lord S. The discussion is certainly timely, if I might venture 
 an opinion. The people have discussed it for some time. They 
 say the king is but a figure head dirough which my Lord Ches- 
 terfield gives commands. 
 
 King. By Jove, if you say that you lie! 
 
 Lord S. May it please your Grace, I did not say it. I only 
 tell you what the people say. 
 
 King. Why, damn it then, the people lie. 
 
 Lord S. May it please your Grace, I don't doubt that, they 
 often do. I only tell you what they say. 
 
 King. What business is it of their's who commands, what in- 
 terest have they in the government, anyhow? 
 
 Sir Paul. I would hate to undertake to answer that, but they 
 are fully convinced that my Lord Chesterfield is humored in his 
 shghtest whim. 
 
 King. They seem to know more than the facts warrant. 
 
26 
 
 Queen. Your Grace knows my Lord Chesterfield is given 
 what he wants merely for the asking. 
 King. I know no such thing. 
 
 Enter Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Lord C. I beg a thousand pardons if I intrude. 
 
 King. Come in my lord, we are here for business. 
 
 Lord C. It will take but a moment if you will excuse his 
 Grace. 
 
 Lord S. Why certainly, my lord, we would not think of inter- 
 rupting the king's business. 
 
 King. What is it my lord? 
 
 Lord C. A commission, if it pleases your Grace. 
 
 King. Let me see it. (Hands him commission.) No, I 
 cannot agree to this. 
 
 Lord C. He is a man of undisputed qualities. What objec- 
 tion has your Grace to ofter? 
 
 King No, I cannot do it. By Jove, I would rather have the 
 devil. 
 
 Lord C. With all my heart. I only beg leave to put your 
 Majesty in mind that the commission is indicted to our right 
 trusty and right well beloved cousin. 
 
 King. My lord, do as you please. 
 
 Lord C. I thank you Grace. 
 
 Exit Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Queen. That proves the charge. 
 
 King. What charge? 
 
 Queen. That my lord is really king. 
 
 King. It is well this comes from you. 
 
 Queen. It is true no matter whence it comes. 
 
 J,ord S. May it please your Grace, my lord presents an ob- 
 noxious commission. You refuse it. What then? A smile, a 
 honied wo'rd, and you grant it. 
 
 Queen. What further proof oould anyone desire? I think we 
 had better acknowledge my lord as king and the Countess his 
 chief secretary. 
 
27 
 
 King. Oh, damn the Countess? 
 
 Queen. If ray Lord Chesterfield fails in anything, he sends the 
 Countess. She prepares the way and his failure becomes success. 
 And then they laugh with each other over your cupidity. 
 
 Enter Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Lord C. I beg your Grace's pardon a second time for my in- 
 trusion. 
 
 King. My lord, I think it most untimely. 
 
 Lord C. You said vou were here for business. 
 
 King. No matter what I said, I am not. Let the matter 
 wait. 
 
 Lord C. May it please your Grace, it is most important. If 
 you (vill but read it. 
 
 (Hands him paper.) 
 
 King. Let it wait, I say. I'll not be bothered now! 
 
 Lord C. As your Grace pleases. I trust I have not offended. 
 
 King. But, damn it, you have. 
 
 (Tears up the paper and throws it on floor.) 
 
 Lord C. Then I offer you my humble and most sincere 
 apology and ask your Majesty to overlook my error. 
 
 King. I have done that too often, now. 
 
 Lord C. May it please your Grace, I think I know the rea- 
 son for all this and will save you further trouble. The seals when 
 tendered me were not solicited. A minister though subservient to 
 the king is not a slave. Your Majesty may act upon my resig- 
 nation. 
 
28 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I. Place — London. Room in Lord Chesterfield' s 
 
 House. 
 
 Present — Lord Chesterfield, seated writing. 
 Enter — John. 
 John. The Duchess of Halifax. 
 
 Enter Duchess of Halifax. 
 
 Duchess. My lord, you seem busy. 
 
 Lord C. My dear Duchess, I humbly beg your pardon, I had 
 not heard you. You know I am as deaf as a post and ahiiost 
 as Wind. But have a seat. Upon my soul, I think I have lost 
 my manners with my health. 
 
 Duchess. How is your health, my lord? 
 
 Lord C. Poorly, my dear Duchess, very poorly indeed. What 
 with deafness and blindness and rheumatism, 1 think I grow 
 weaker every day. If this continues I will be in the hands of the 
 undertaker before long. 
 
 Duchess. Oh. fie, my lord, don't talk that way. You will 
 live a long time yet. You are not an old man by any means. 
 
 Lord C. You know I would not dispute your word, Duchess, 
 for the world, but I must protest that your good nature overcomes 
 your memory. To-day is my birthday. 
 
 Duchess. I had not forgotten, my lord. The purpose of my 
 visit was to congratulate you and wish you many happy returns. 
 
 Lord C. Thank you Duchess, thank you heartily. I knew 
 you would not forget me, but I cannot wish for many returns of 
 the day, happy or unhappy. Sixty-six and six makes seventy- 
 two — a nice margin over man's alotted time. 
 
 Duchess. But my lord, you have gotten very little enjoyment 
 out of those two years. 
 
 Lord C. That may be true, but whose fault is it? Physical 
 
29 
 
 ills are the taxes laid upon this wretched life, some are taxed 
 lower, some higher, but all pay something. 
 
 Duchess. I think you have been called upon to pay at least 
 your full share. 
 
 Lord C. I appreciate your sympathy. Duchess, and thank 
 you for it, but my philosophy teaches me to reflect how much 
 higher rather than how much lower I might have been taxed. I 
 mentioned this to Lord Tyrawley a few days ago and he quite 
 agreed with me. 
 
 Duchess. By the way, how is your old friend? I have not 
 seen him in a century. 
 
 Lord C. He is kept busy dodging the doctor and the under- 
 taker, which is about the only sport we old people have. 
 
 Duchess. My lord does not go out much now, does he? 
 
 Lord C. Oh, no indeed, we are both of us more snails than 
 men; to tell you the truth, we have both been dead these two 
 years but we didn't care to have it known. 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. Lady Gertrude Hotham. 
 
 Enter Ladv Gertrude Hoth.am. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. My dear lord, how do you do? I just ran 
 in to congratulate you and — ■ 
 
 Lord C. See if I was still alive. Such a sisterly interest. I 
 assure you I appreciate it. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Now you are scolding me. I'll wager you 
 did not scold the Duchess, and she is here on the same mission. 
 
 Duchess. You are quite right Gertrude, my lord and I were 
 comparing notes. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. To see which was the older? 
 
 Lord C. We were discussing the age of our friends. O, 
 damnation! I beg a thousand pardons, ladies, it was only a 
 twitch of the rheumatism and I have fallen into the habit of 
 abusing it to myself as a sort of comfort. 
 
 Duchess. Are you quite sure it is the rheumatism, my lord? 
 
30 
 
 Lord C. Indeed, I am afraid it is. I wish it were a declared 
 gout, which is the distemper of a gentleman, whereas the rheum- 
 atism is the distemper of a hackney coachman or chairman who 
 are obliged to be out in all weathers and at all hours. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. My lord, you should take a trip to Wales. 
 
 Lord C. I fear I could not bear it. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. It would help you. I am sure it would. 
 Would it not, Duchess? 
 
 Duchess. It is just the thing for him. The air is dry and 
 crisp and pure. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. And then there are the mountains and the 
 streams of clear, sparkling waters and the scenery and the new 
 faces, and all that. 
 
 Lord C. And the Methodist seminaries, eh ladies? Where 
 they hold it wrong for women to wear jewelry or dance or do 
 anything else in which they find amusement, and where they 
 think a man is going to hell immediately if he plays cards, drinks 
 wine and talks of women — except his mother or his sister. I do 
 not think I was cut out for a Methodist, and I am sure my early 
 training was not in that direction. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. But you exaggerate the doctrines of our 
 church. 
 
 Lord C. You could hardly be called an unbiased judge, my 
 dear Gertrude, for you have become such a strict follower that I 
 understand you hold that kissing is a sin. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Oh, indeed, it is, my lord. 
 
 Lord C. Then if kissing is a sin, why were men and women 
 given mouths? They could have talked through their noses just 
 as well — in fact, a great many prefer that method anyway. 
 
 Duchess. My lord, you jest. You need not go near a semi- 
 nary if you do not wish. 
 
 Lord C. But who is to keep them away from me? I am 
 quite sure you both would like to care for my spiritual as well as 
 my temporal welfare, and I thank you for it. It is quite kind 
 of you to place me away off in the country where there are no 
 persons but innocent ones and very few of them. I think I must 
 decline. I have always preferred to die before being buried. 
 
31 
 
 Lady Gertrude. It is just the place for you anyway. The 
 prospects are so grand. 
 
 Lord C. No, ladies, I thank you, but I do not love such tre- 
 mendous prospects. When the faith of your ladyships has re- 
 moved the mountains I will go to Wales with all my heart. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. We won't quarrel about this on your birth- 
 day, but I must be goins;. I did not bring you a present because 
 I knew your views on such practices. 
 
 Lord C. I have always maintained that presents should never 
 be given to any but children and newly married people, and I do 
 not think any one would class me under either head at present. 
 I thank you for your thoughtfulness. 
 
 Duchess. I'll go with you, Gertrude, if you do not object. 
 
 Lord C. You make your visits short. 
 
 Duchess. But sweet, my lord. 
 
 Lord C. In my younger days I would have added that my- 
 self. 
 
 Exeunt Lady Gertrude and the Duchess. 
 
 They are in a hurry, as usual. Women are always so. They 
 came into the world a little late and have been trying ever since 
 to make up the lost time. I must finish this letter to-day or it 
 will miss the next mail and the boy will be disappointed. 
 
 E^iter John. 
 
 John. My Lord March. 
 
 Enter Lord March. 
 
 Lord M. Good day, my lord. I hope I find you improving 
 on this anniversary. 
 
 Lord C. My lord, I appreciate your good will in the premises 
 but your hoppsare wholly groundless, for the rheumatism has abso- 
 lutely reduced me to the miserable situation of the sphynx's rid- 
 dle, to walk upon three legs — but tell me the news. Upon my 
 soul, I have gotten so in the habit of grumbling to myself that I 
 can hardly stop it. What is being done in parliament? 
 
32 
 
 Lord M. Parliament is at sea about what to do with the 
 colonies. 
 
 Lord C. I have always thought parliament had enough to do 
 without trying to jirescribe laws for America.. 
 
 Lord M. The trouble is not in passing laws. This they have 
 done, but these laws are now being violated — and not merely vio- 
 lated but openly defied. It has been more than six months now 
 since the stamp act was passed and yet there has not been a 
 cent paid. 
 
 Lord C. In my opinion the refusal is truly commendable be- 
 cause wholly justified. 
 
 Lord M. And that is the view taken by a great many. The 
 adminisration are for some indulgence and forbearance to those 
 froward children of their mother country. 
 
 Lord C. It is much the wiser course. 
 
 Lord M. But the opposition are for taking vigorous measures. 
 
 Lord C. A little concession is better. For my part I never 
 saw a froward child mended by whipping, and I would not have 
 the mother country become a step mother. 
 
 Lord M. My lord, I do not doubt but that your views are 
 correct. 
 
 Lord C. Mark my prediction, March, such acts as these are 
 going to lead to revolution. I may not hve to see it, but you 
 will. What the result will be cannot be foretold, but there will 
 be bloodshed. But tell me, is there anything interesting at court? 
 
 Lord M. Nothing new there except my Lord Waldegrave is 
 expecting to be made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. 
 
 Lord C. My Lord Waldegrave! And is the King really con- 
 sidering him seriously? 
 
 Lord M. To all appearances. His friends urge that he has 
 rendered excellent service to the King of late. 
 
 Lord C. And do they think that qualifies him? 
 
 Lord M. I suppose so. 
 
 Lord C. That would be a misfortune, indeed. It is true he 
 did render good service, which was the more wondered at because 
 entirely unexpected, but must service be rewarded by office when 
 there is no merit? It is a bad precedent to say the least. I 
 
33 
 
 know of no former instance of the kind. I remember to have 
 read in history that Rome was saved by geese, but I do not re- 
 member that those geese were made consuls. Placing my Lords 
 Waldegrave and Doddington in important positions is indeed 
 absurd. 
 
 Lord M. The friends of my Lord Doddington have withdrawn 
 his application since his quarrel with my Lord Bute. 
 
 Lord C. What quarrel? 
 
 Lord M. Is it possible you had not heard of it? Why, it is 
 the talk of all the clubs, though I do not believe it has gotten 
 into any of the papers as yet. 
 
 Lord C. How am I to hear the talk of the clubs when I never 
 go to them — and they never come to me. 
 
 Lord M. I had forgot my lord, and beg your pardon. Dod- 
 dington accuses my Lord Bute of having made some slighting 
 remarks about him at the club a few nights since. It was 
 thought for awhile that there would be a duel. 
 
 Lord C. I should never look for a duel between those two, 
 but what was it Bute said? 
 
 Lord M. It is claimed that he used language to the effect 
 that Doddington would give one limb to wear a garter on the 
 other. 
 
 Lord C. And has it come to this that a man cannot tell the 
 truth in the club without being threatened with a duel? 
 
 Lord M. Take care, my lord, or he will make you co-re- 
 spondent. 
 
 Lord C. Has he filed suit, then? 
 
 Lord M. He is going to do so. He says his character has 
 been mjured. 
 
 Lord C. And he is going to the law to mend it. 
 
 Lord M. That is what he proposes. 
 
 Lord C. It will do him no good. The law was not made for 
 such purposes, besides I have always found that the character 
 that needs the law to mend it is hardly worth the tinkering. 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. The Countess of Yarmouth. 
 
34 
 
 Entei Countess of Yarmouth. 
 
 Countess. My lord, good evening. I was passing and could 
 not resist stopping in to congratulate you and wish you many, 
 many returns of the day. No really, I have no time to sit down. 
 
 Lord M. My lord, I'll bid you good day. 
 
 Countess. Wait a minute, my lord, aud I'll go with you. 
 
 Lord M. I'll wait two minutes for that. 
 
 Lord C. You are cheating me. Countess. 
 
 Countess. I promised his majesty that I would return early. 
 
 Lord C- I always yield to the Kmg. 
 
 Countess. Before I go I want to know if what I hear is true 
 of your brother and his wife? 
 
 Lord C. Yes, it is all true. I arranged the treaty myself. 
 The only solid and lasting peace between a man and his wife is 
 doubtless, a separation. 
 
 Countess. I thought it was your work. Come March, we 
 will go, for I know my lord soon tires of the company of us 
 young people. Good-bye, my lord. 
 
 Exeunt Countess and Lord March. 
 
 Lord C. Friends are like troubles, they never come singly. 
 (Rings.) 
 
 Enter John. 
 
 John. My lord. 
 
 Lord C. John, lock the door and refuse to answer the bell. 
 John. Yes, my lord. 
 Lord C. But, John. 
 John. Yes, my lord. 
 
 Lord C. Do not fail to see who calls and let me know. That 
 ■will do. 
 
 John. Yes, my lord. 
 
 Exit John. 
 
35 
 
 SCENE II. The Same. Hall in Lord Chesterfield' s House. 
 
 Present — John (opening door). 
 
 Enter Dayrolles. 
 
 Day. Good morning, John. How is your master? 
 
 John. No better, sir. 
 
 Day. Is he very ill? 
 
 John. The doctor says very, indeed, sir. 
 
 Day. Who is with him? 
 
 John. Lady Gertrude and the Duchess of Halifax are the 
 only ones at present. The doctor has just gone and my Lord 
 March and the Countess of Yarmouth have both been here this 
 forenoon. 
 
 Day. Can I see him, John? 
 
 John. I think so, sir. Will you come this way? 
 
 Exeunt John a7id Dayrolles. 
 
 SCENE III. The Same. Room in Lord Chesterfield^ s 
 
 House. 
 
 Present — Lord Chesterfield (on couch). 
 
 Lady Gertrude Hotham a7id Duchess of Halifax. 
 
 Enter John (with card). 
 
 Duchess. Dayrolles; his old friend! Show him in John, but 
 warn him that my lord is asleep. 
 
 Exit John. 
 
 Enter Dayrolles and John. 
 
 Day. My dear Duchess and Lady Gertrude, how is your 
 patient? 
 
36 
 
 Duchess. Resting some easier just now, but I assure you we 
 are glad to see you. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Indeed, we are. 
 
 Day. I thank you both. 
 
 Duchess. He will be delighted to see you. He speaks of 
 you continually. 
 
 Day. He does me too much honor. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. He considers you his best friend. Ah, I 
 beUeve he is awake. (Goes to couch.) My lord, how do you 
 feel? 
 
 Lord C. Some better, thaiik you. Has March gone? 
 
 Lady Gertrude. Yes, but DayroUes is here. 
 
 Lord C. Ah, old friend, how good of you to come. 
 
 Day. My lord, I would come ten times as far to comfort you. 
 
 Lord C. I know you would, Dayrolles, I know you would. 
 But you must be weary. Sit down and tell me what you know. 
 John, John, give Dayrolles a chair. (Falls back.) 
 
 Day. Quick, a doctor! 
 
 Duchess. The doctor, John, at once. 
 
 Exit John. 
 
 Lady Gertrude. I'll sei^ \ for Dr. Warren, also. 
 Duchess. Yes, do, we had better have them both. 
 Day. Never mind that. There is no need for either, now. 
 He is dead. 
 
 i 
 
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 014 211973 
 
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