" TG 2 (3 Boat Se) OS) 6 ru DE WITT’S ACTING PLAYS. WD) 3 (Number 91.) WALPOLE: OR, EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE. A COMEDY, IN RHYME. \ eS IN THREE ACTS. er By LORD LYTTON. (SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWEBR.) Author of **The Rightful Hetr,** ‘Lady of Lyons," etc., etc. TO WHICH ARE ADDED € A description of the Costume—Cast of the Characters—Entrances and Exits— Relative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and the whole of the Stage Business. Hemw-Pork : ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, No. 33 Rose Street. re eee eee ke eee ek TEES ( AUNT CHARLOTTE’S MAID. A Farce, in One Act, ByJ. | M. Morton, Esq. Price 15 Cents. iw ONLY A HALF-PENNY. A Farce, in One Act. By John Ox | enford. Price 16 Cents. . a STV ae Pe = I \ Shy fa oo 9] % fr % ; ane a f : a ot i: pe ay oe iy ea FR WALPOLE: OR, EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE. S Comedy in Abyme, IN THREE ACTS. fy \ » . Ay -_. Bry LORD LYTTON, (SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWER.) Author of “ The Rightful Heir,” “ Lady of Lyons,” etc., ete. 20 WHICH IS ADDED A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES—CAST OF THE CHARACTERS—EN- | RANGES AND EXITS—RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PER- FORMERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE. BUSINESS | NEW YORK: . ' ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, No. 88 Ross Srrest. 9 WALPOLE. CHARACTERS. Stir Sipney Betxtam, Bart., M.P. (can be played by a lady.) Lorp NITHSDALE. Tue Ricut Hon. Ropert WALpPOoLE, M. P. (Chancellor of the Exchequer, and First Lord of the Treasury.) Jouu Veasey, M.P. (his Confidant.) First JaconirE Lorp. SELDEN Biount, M,P. SEconD JacoBITE LoRD, Frequenters of Tom's Coffee House, Servants, &c. Lucy Witmor. | Mrs. Vizarp. ‘ TIME OCCUPIED BY THE EVENTS OF THE PLAY—ONE DAY. TIME OF PLAYING—ONE HOUR AND TEN MINUTES. SCENERY ( English.) ACT /.—Tom’s Coffee-House, in, London in 4th grooves. CoP ees eereseresasece Sever edcescscecce Soveeserces Seaorters seocesseced?s * .pabte, = 2° -pabie, © 2 Opie : Open, : mre ee — : ° — 4 | . lameeed z Pere os A A A A Setstere *H Door, pier tig) Closed in. ‘ Table and Chairs. Table and Chairs. : Fireplace. ( Pues +s B: Open sees Open. paintings, portraits of Queen The walls in panelling, dark red oak atew tramed oil etc. ; stut« Anne, Marlborough, Charles L., atter Vandyke, the Battle of iemhelm, uette of Bacchus, print of Sir W alter Raleigh smoking; a framed set of curious: ‘to- bacco-pipes arranged as a trophy; East Indian curiosities ; a stuifed raccoon, & handbill on a nail: “ Distressed Mother....His Majesty’s Servants....Prices of the Places,” a handbill “ £25 Reward. Whereas certain........ known for their ae es.... Monocks did set upon...... .-Waltreat....rolled the said Sarah Frost, i : hogshead, down Holborn Hill....on the night of....” Old muskets and rye. crossed, over fireplace, under a map. A, A, A, A, partitions of panelled oak, feet high, making small rooms or “boxes,” of the space between them, in whith sis a table with aseat running around three sides of each box. O, stairs leading off up from stage. R. v. E., open for Wairers to exit as to kitchen, for coffee, ete. L.2 %., double door. °B, a bar, with oyster patties, meat—pies, newspapers, books, tobaeco jars, red, with gilt Arms of Great Britain on them, and “*Tom’s” in black letters ; a public snuff-box, large. E, a cheval glass, on a stand, in which the Lounexrs look before going off L. p. Curtains to th: boxes, red. ee OL 19 4ar 1675 ACT JI.—Scene J.—Room in 1st grooves. Portraits on wall. 7 Scene JJ.—Room in 2d grooves. WALPOLE. o Secret Door. pe Sdevevecs sue | Door. | eeteoscone | | ceases eee eee —_ . Rn x mA. Ro — oe Ww. indow Door. ‘ Lik eeee eeee ™, A,aclock. Balcony outside of window. * "Scene Z77.—Outside of a House, court and garden wall in 5th grooves. TT ee.S oe Pe eeoseereaeteseteseortseeesse Boe None cob éiwe dulvaties candecetdater=——ols Landscape. os Opel. ‘> Wall. a A cee aes —... * * * * * * * a * os3:...Tree, ——4 :: Wall. Open. = :: : PUES te fey uae S| rt Door : : Wall. ee) Sas es ie : : * : : Tree. a? Window & “s eo * an Tree, ——] ea —_ a oy ia housetops, with a park of trees between. 4th groove line, 4 row of er ; : ear enough to prevent a cart passing between them, four feet high, os Mog Cc Seppe in by a garden wall or hedge. L. 1 and 2z., agarden wall, six feet ’ & < high, with spikes on top, anda creeping plant. R.3x., alow wall. R.1land 2 i: ie a set mouse front, on the ground fivor a window, 1 E., and D. 2 E. above it, a practica- ‘3 ble window with balcony. B, iron railing, with posts to the door, with lamps, and . iron sockets, such as were used as extinguishers for torches. oy ACT J1I.—Scene J.—St. James’s Park in 1st grooves (or can be painted on canvas \% to roll up); two benches to be pushed on R. and. Sunset effect. Tree wings. Sky sink and borders. : Scene J/.--Same as Scene /., Act 7/., in first grooves (or 2d cut of Ist grooves.) Scene J]7,—Same as Scene JJ., Act 7/., but set in 3d grooves instead of 2d. PROPERTIES. ACT ].: Trays; plates; blue china cups and saucers; chocolate dishes ; eatables; a joint of meat, a ham, some preserves, on bar; pipes, tobacco, ete. Act II.— f Scene 1st Writing materials, books and papers on table ; three chairs. Scer’ é ' 2d: A purse, filled ; poker; hand-bell. Scene 3d: Pebbles. Act ///.—-Scene 1st: - + Note. Scene 2d: Note as before: candles in candle-sticks; book on table; g ' _hand-bell , pocket-book. Scene 3d; Lamp; miniature for Lucy; note-book; J key. 4 WALPOLE. COSTUMES (English, 1700-20 ) Watroue.— Act /.: Elegant but rather plain walking-dress; fob watch and seals, sword, snuff-box. Act /7.: Handsome suit, embroidered waistcoat. Act //J.: Long dark roquelaure over his dress, same as Act J., sword. SeLDEN BLount.-—Dresses in rather sober colors, velvet, etc., russat, black or violet. Beiuarr.—Showy dress, laced hat, gold sword-knot, handsome court-sword of French style, jeweled snuff-box. Lorp NirHspALE.— Walking-dress, over which is a woman’s gown, cloak with hood, and he has a long curly wig, like a woman’s hair. Verasry.—Gentieman’s costume. JacOBITE LorDs. —Walking-dresses, fighting-swords. LounGERs in coffee-house.—Dandy dvesses, laced hats, showy sword-cases, gold- headed canes, FoormeEn.—-In showy livery, to run in and out of coffee-house. Waiters.—Long white aprons, sleeveless waistcoats, long skirted coats, etc. Lucy Wi~motT.—House-dress. Mrs. Vizarp.—Cap, old-fashioned dress, crutch-handled cane, a patch or two on her face by the corner of the mouth. Act //J.: Cloak with hood. EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. The Actor is supposed to face the Audience. R. BR. OC. C. L. od. » om ; ATDIENCE. L. Left. C. Centre. L, C. Left Centre. R. Right. ule. Left First Entrance. RlE. Right First Entrance. u.22. Left Second Entrance. n.2E. Right Second Entrance. u.3e8. Left Third Entrance. n.3. Right Third Entrance. L.v. E Left Upper Entrance g.U.s. Right Upper Entrance, (wherever this Scene may be.) mn. c Door Bight Centre. v.14. 6. Door Left Centre. [For Synopsis, see last page.] WALPOLE —— ACT I. SCENE.—Tom’s Coffee-house, in 4th grooves—At back, GENTLEMEN seated in the different “ boxes.” Enter WAuPoue, L. D., and VEASEY, R. 2 E., down steps, both to c. front. Veasty. Ha! good day, my dear patron. WALPOLE. Good day, my dear friend ; You can spare me five minutes ? VEASEY. Five thousand. WALPOLE. Attend ; I am just from the king, and I failed not to press him To secure to his service John Veasey. VEASEY. God bless him! WaLpo.e. George’s reign, just begun, your tried worth will distin- guish, VeaAsey. Oh, a true English king ! WALPOLE. Tho’ he cannot speak ENGuIsnH. Veasey. You must find that defect a misfortune, I fear? WaLpo.e. The reverse; (smiles) for no rivals can get at his ear. It is something to be the one public man pat in The new language that now governs England, dog Latin, Veasey. Happy thing for these kingdoms that you have that gift, Or, alas! on what shoals all our counsels would drift. WALPOLE, (jauntily). Yes, the change from Queen Anne to King George, we must own, Renders me and the Whigs the sole props of the throne. For the Tories their Jacobite leanings disgrace, And a Whig is the only sate man for a place. Veasey. And the Walpoles of Houghton, in all their relations, Have been Whigs to the backbone for three generations. Wa.poue. Ay, my father and mother contrived to produce Their eighteen sucking Whigs for the family use, Of which number one only, without due reflection, Braved the wrath of her house by a Tory connection. But, by Jove, if her Jacobite husband be living, I will make him a Whig. VEASEY. How? WALPOLE. - By something worth giving; For I loved her in’ boyhood, that pale pretty sister ; VEASEY. WALPOLE, VEASEY. WALPOLE. VEASEY. WALPOLE VEASEY WALPOLE. VEASEY. WALPOLE, VEASEY. WALPOLE, VEASEY. W ALPOLE. VEASEY. WALPOLE. WALPOLE. And in counting the Walpoles still left, I have miss’d her. (pauses in emotion, but quickly recovers himself ) What was it | said? Oh—the State and the Guelph, For their safety, must henceforth depend on myself. The revolt, scarcely quenched, has live sparks in its ashes ; Nay, fresh seeds for combustion were sown by its flashes. Each example we make dangerous pity bequeathes ; For no Briton likes blood in the air that he breathes. Yes; at least there’s one rebel whose doom to the block Tho’ deserved, gives this soft-hearted people a shock. Lord N ithsdale, you mean; handsome, young, and just wedded— A poor body—twould do us much harm if beheaded. Yet, they say, you rejected all prayers for his life. It is true; but tm private I’ve talked to his wife ; She had orders to see him last night in the Tower, And Well ?.— (looking at his watch). Wait for the news—'tis not yet quite the hour, Ah! poor England, I fear, at the General Election, Will vote strong in a mad anti-Whiggish direction. From a Jacobite Parliament we must defend her, Or the King will be Stuart, and Guelph the Pretender. And I know but one measure to rescue our land From the worst of all ills—Civil War. (solemnly). True; we stand At that dread turning-point in the life of a State When its free choice would favor what freedom should hate ; When the popular cause, could we poll population Would be found the least popular thing in the nation. Scarce a fourth of this people are sound in their reason But we can’t hang the other three-fourths for high treason! Tell me, what is the measure your wisdom proposes ? In its third year, by law, this Whig Parliament closes. But the law! What’s the Jaw in a moment so critical ? Church and State must be saved from a House Jacobitical. Let this Parliament then, under favor of Heaven, Lengthen out its existence from three years to seven. Brilliant thought! could the State keep i's present directors Undisturbed for a time by those rowdy electors, While this new German tree, just transplanted, takes root, Dropping down on the lap of each friend golden fruit, Britain then would be saved from all chance of reaction To the craft and corrup‘ion of Jacobite faction. But ah! think you the Commons would swallow the question ? That depends on what pills may assist their digestion. I could make—see this list—our majority sure, If by buying two men I could sixty secure; For as each of these two is the chief of a section That will vote black or white at its leader’s direction, Let the pipe of the shepherd but lure the bell-wether, And he folds the whole flock, wool and cry, altogether. Well, the first of these two worthy members you guess. Sure, you cannot mean Blount, virtuous Selden aa es, —~] ACT I. Veasey. What! your sternest opponent, half Cato, half Brutus, He, whose vote incorruptible WALPOLE. Just now would suit us; For a patriot so staunch could with dauntless effrontery— Veasey. Sell himself? : WALPOLE. Why, of course, forthe good of his country. True, his price will be high—be is worth forty votes, And his salary must pay for the change in their coats. Prithee, has not his zeal for his fatherland—rather Overburthened the lands he received fiom his father ? Vasey. Well, ’tis whispered in clubs that his debts somewhat tease him, Waupots. I must see him in private, and study to ease him. Will you kindly arrange that he call upon me At my home, not my office, to-day —just at three? Not a-word that can hint of the object in view Say some (slight pause) bill in the House that concerns lim and you ; And on which, as distinct from all party disputes, Members meet without tearing each other like brutes. Veaszey. Lucky thought !—Blount and I both agree in Committee On a bill for amending the dues of the City Waxpoug. And the Government wants to enlighten its soul On the price which the publc¢ should pay for its coal. We shall have him, tiis Puritan chief of my foes. Now the next one to catch is the chief of the Beaux; All our young members mimic his nod or his laugh ; And if Blount be worth forty votes, he is worth half. VeAsey. Eh! Bellair, whose defence of the Jacobite peers Watpo.te. Thrilled the Hou-e; Mr. Speaker himself was in tears. e Faith, I thought he’d have beat us, (taking snuff.) VEASEY. That fierce peroration Waxpote. Which compared me to Nero—supeib (brushing the snuff from his lice lappet) declamation ! Veasey. Yes; a very fine speaker. WALPOLE. Of that there’s no doubt For he speaks about things he knows nothing about, But I still to our party intend to unite him— Secret Service Department— Beilair—a small item. Veasey. Nay, you jest—for this gay maiden knight in debate, Toa promise so brilliant adds fortune so great Wapo.g. That he is not a man to be bought by hard cash ; But he’s vain and conceited, light-hearted and rash. Every favorite of fortune hopes still to be greater, And a beau must want something to turn a debater, Hem! I know a Duke’s daughter, young, sprightlyZand fair ; She will wed as I wish her; hint that to Bellair ; Ay, and if he will put himself under my steerage, Say that with the Duke’s daughter I throw in the peerage. Veasey, (thoughtfuily). Those are baits that a vain man of wit may seduce, — WaALpoue. Or, if not, his political creed must be loose ; To some Jacobite plot he will not be a stranger, And to win him securely VEAsEY. We’ll get him in danger Hist ! Linter Bevuarr, humming a tune, w. dD. 8 WALPOLE, BELLAIR. WALPOLE. BEuLIAR. WALPOLE. BELLAIR. WALPOLE. BEvLAI. WALPOLE. BELLAIR. VEASEY. BELLAIR. V EASEY. Bevan. VEASEY. BELLAIR. VEASEY. BELLAIR. VEASEY. BELLAIR. V EASEY. (carelessly ) BELLAIR. V mASEY. BELLAIR V EASEY. WALPULKE, Good-morning, Sir Sidney ; your speech did you credit; And whatever your party, in time you will head it. Your attack on myself was exceedingly striking, Though the subject you choose was not quite to my liking. Tut! I never bear malice. You hunt? Yes, of late And you ride as you speak ? Well, in both a light weight. But light weights have the odds in their favor, I fear. Come and hunt with my harriers at Houghton this year; I can show you some sport. Sir, there’s no doubt of that. We will turn out a fox. : (aside). * As a bait for a rat! I expect you next autumn! Agreed then; good-day. [they salute, and exit, WALPOLE, L. D. Well, I don’t know a pleasanter man in his way ; ’Tis no wonder his friends are so fond of their chief. That you are not among them is matter for grief. Ab, a man of such stake in the land as yourself, Could command any post in the court of the Guelph. No, no; 1’m appalled. By the king ? Can you doubt him ? I’m appalled by those Gorgons, the ladies about him. Good! ha, ha! yes, in beauty his taste may be wrong, But he has what we want, sir,a government strong. Meaning petticoat government ? Mine too is such, But my rulers don’t frighten their subjects so much. Nay, your rulers? Why plural? Legitimate sway Can admit but one ruler to love And obey. What a wife! Constitutional monarchy? Well, If I choose my own sovereign I might not rebel. You may choose at your will!) With your parts, wealth, con- dition, You in marriage could link all the ends of ambition There ts a young beauty—the highest in birth And her father, the Duke Oh, a Duke! Knows your worth Listen; Walpole, desiring to strengthen the Lords With the very best men whom the country affords, Has implied to his Grace, that his choice should be clear. If you wed the Dukes’s daughter, of course you’re a peer, With the Lords and the lady would Walpole ally me? Yes; andif I were you He would certainly buy me ; (draws himself up haughtily) Why that frown ? But I,—being a man No offence. BrLLAIR (relapsing into his habitual ease). Nay, forsue me. Tho man, I’m a man about town And so graceful a compliment could not offend Any man about town, from a Minis!er’s friend. Stiil, if not from the frailty of mortals exempt, Can a mortal be tempted where sins do not tempt ? Of my rank and my fortune I am so conceited, That I don’t, with a wife, want those blessings repeated. ACT I. 9 And tho’ flattered to learn I should strengthen the Peers— Give me still our rough House with its laughter and cheers. Let the Lords have their chamber—I grudge not its powers; But for badgering a Minister nothing like ours ! Whisper that to the Minister;—sir, your obedient. (turns away, R. to GENTLEMEN at table.) VEASEY (aside). Humph! I see we must hazard the ruder expedicnt. If some Jacobite pit for his feet we can dig, He shall hang as a Tory, or vote as a Whig. (VEASEY re- tires up stage ) BrELLAIR (seating himself, nr. co. front). Oa, how little these formalist middle-aged sclemers Know of us the bold youngsters, half sages, half dreamers ! Sages half? Yes, Lecause of the time rushing on, Part and parcel are we ; they belong to time gone. Dreamers half? Yes, because in a woman’s fair face We imagine the heaven they find in a place. At this moment I, courted by Whig and by Tory, For the spangles and tinsel which clothe me with glory, Am a monster so callous, I should not feel sorrow If an earthquake engulfed Whig and Tory to-morrow “ What a heartless assertion!’ the aged would say ; . True, the young have no heart, for they give it away. Ah, Tlove! and lere—joy ! comes the man who may aid me. Enter Buount, b. D. Buount (to Coffee-house loungers, who gather round him as he comes down ¢ V BASEY. Buount. VEASEY. Buiount. VEASEY. Briount VEASEY. Biount. ‘VV RASEY, Buiounr, the stage). Yes, sir, just from Guildhall, where the City has paid me The great honor J] never can merit enough, Of this box, dedicated to Virtue ( Coffee-house loungers gather around) And snuff. Yes, sir, Higgins the Patriot, who deals in rappee, Stored that box with puivillio, superfluous to me; For a public man gives his whole life to the nation, And his nose has no time for a vain titillation. On the dues upon coal—apropos of the City— We agreed And were beat; Walpole bribed the Committee. You mistake ; he Jeans tow’rds us, and begs you to call At his house—three o’clock. (declaiming as if in Parliament), But I say, once for all, That the dues Put the case as you only can do, And we carry the question. ; Pll call, sir, at two. He said three. I say two, sir; my honor’s at stake, To amend every motion that Ministers make, (VEASEY /etzres into the background. ) BuiountT. (advancing to Beuuatr). Young debater, your hand. One might tear into shreds All your plea for not cutting off Jacobite heads ; But that burst against Walpole redeemed your whole speech. 10 BELLAIR. WALPOLE. Be but honest, and high is the fame you will reach. (x. c.). Blount, your praise would delight, but your caution offends. Buount. (c.). "Lis my way—I’'m plain spoken to foes and to friends. BELLAIR, Buount. BELLAIR, Biount. BELLAIR. What are talents but snares to mislead and pervert you, Unless they converge in one end—Public Virtue! Fine debaters abound ; we applaud and déspise them; For when the House cheers them the Minister buys them. Come, be honest, I say, sir—away with all doubt; Public Virtue commands! Vote the Minister out! Public virtue when construed means private ambition, This to me—to a Patriot In fierce opposition ; But you ask for my vote. Eogland wants every man. Well, tho’ Walpole can’t buy me, I think that you can. Blount, I saw you last evening cloaked up to your chin, But I had not a guess who lay, perdu, within All those bales of broadcloth—when a gust of wind rose, And uplifting your beaver it let out your nose. Buiount. (somewhat confusedly), Yes, 1 always am cloaked—half disguised BELLAIR. BLount. Bruualr. Buount. (aside). BELLAIR. Biount. BELLAIR. Buount. BELLAIR. when | go Certain rounds—real charity hides itself*so ; For one good deed concealed is worth fifty paraded. Finely said. Quitting, doubtless, the poor you had aided, You shot by me before I had time to accost you, Down a court which contains but one house ;—there I lost you. One hvuuse! Where a widow named Vizard—— I tremble, Yes Resides with an angel (aside). "Twere best to dissemble. With an angel! bah! say with a girl—what’s her name ? On this earth Lucy Wilmot. Eh !—Wilmot? The same. Buount. (after a short pause). Aud liow knew you these ladies ? BELLAIR. Buovunt. BELwLAIR. Buvovnt, BeE.LAIR. Biovunr. BELLAIR. BLouNT. BEvuaAtIR, Buount. Wiil you be my friend ? 1? of course. Tell me all from beginning to end. Oh, my story is short. Just a fortnight ago, Coming home tow’rds the night from my club Drunk ? So, so. “ Help me, help!” cries a voice—'lis a woman’s—I run— Which may prove l’d drunk less than | often have done. And I find—but, deir Blount, you have heard the renown Of a set called the Mohawks ? The scourge of the town. A lewd band of night savages, scouring the street, Sword in hand,—and the terror of all whom they meet Not as bad as themselves ; —yow were safe, sir; proceed, In the m dst of the Mohawks I saw her anid freed You saw her—Lucy Wilmot—at night, and alone ? No, she had a protector—the face of that crone. Mistress Vizard ? I BRuLalRr. Broont. BELLAIR. Bruounrt. BeLLAte. Buiovnt. BELLAIR. Buiovunt. BELLAIR. BLOUNT. ee ale: LOUNT. BEu.LAIR. ACT I. The same, yet, tho’ strange it appear, When the rogues saw her face they did mot fly in fear, Brief—I came, siw and conquered —but own, on the whole, That my conquest was helped by the City Patrol. I escorted them home—at their threshold we part And I mourn since that night for the loss of my heart. Did you call the next day to demand back that treasure ? Yes, And saw the young lady 2? I had not that pleasure ; I saw the old widow, who toid me politely That her house was too quiet for visits so sprightly ; That young females brought up in the school of propriety Must regard all young males as the pests of society. I will spare you her lectures, she showed me the door, And closed it. You've seen Lucy Wilmot no more? Pardon, yes—very often; that is once a day. Every house has its windows Ah! what did you say ? Well, by words very little, but much by the eyes. Now instruct me in turn,—from what part of the skies Did my angel descend? What her parents and race ? She is well-born, no doubt—one sees that in her face. What to her is Dame Vizard—tkat awful duenna, With the look of a griffiness fed upon senna ? Tell me all. Ho there !—drawer, a bottle of clary f [Zxit, WAITER, R. U. E. Leave in peace the poor girl whom you never could marry, Why? Her station’s too mean. Ina small country town Her poor mother taught music. Her father ? Enter Waiter, R. U. E., and places wine and glasses on the table. R. c. Buovunt. Y BELLAIR. BuiountT. BELLAIR, Biounrt, Be.Lualr. BLoUNT. BeLuLalir. ; Unknown. From the mother’s deathbed, from the evil and danger That might threaten her youth, she was brought by a stran- ger. Tv the house of the lady who Showed me the door? Till instructed to live like her mother before, As a teacher of music. My noble young friend, To a match so unmeet you could never descend. You assure me, [ trust, that all thought is dismist Of a love so misplaced. No—( filling Buount’s glass)—her health ! You persist? Dare you, sir, to a man of my tenets austere, Even to hint your desigu if your suit persevere ? What !—you still would besiege her? Of course, if I love. I am virtue’s defender, sir--there is my glove. (flings down his glove, and rises in angry excitement.) Noble heart! I esteem you still more for this heat, In the list of my sins there’s no room for deceit ; U. ©. ILL. Lib. ? 12 WALPOLE. And to plot against innocence helpless and weak— I’d as soon pick a pocket! Buiount. What mean you then? Speak. Bexuarr. Blount, I mean you to grant me the favor | ask, Buiount. What is that? BELLAIR. To yourself an agreeable task. Since you know this Dame Vizard, you call there to-day, And to her and to Lucy say all 1 would say. You attest what I am—fortune, quality, birth, Adding all that your friendship ailows me of worth. Blount, [ have not a father; 1 claim you as one; You will plead for my bride as you’d speak for a son. All arranged—to the altar we go in your carriage, And I']l vote as you wish the month after my marriage. Buount (aside). Can I stifle my fury ? Enter Newsman, with papers, b. D. Newsman. Great news! (music, antinated, piano.) BELLAIR, Silence ape! (coffee-house loungers rise and crowd round the NEWSMAN, L. C.—VEASEY snatching the paper.) OMNEs. Read. Veasey reading through the music). “ Lord Nithsdale, the rebel, has made his escape. His wife, by permission of Walpole, last night, » Saw her lord in the tower "(great sensation.) Briar (to Biuount). You will make it all right. VrAsey (continuing). “And the traitor escaped in her mantle and dress,” Bextuatr (fo BLounr). Now my fate’s in your hands—I may count on you Buounr (loudly). Yes, (music forte.) QUICK CURTAIN. ACT IT. SCENE 1.—A *00m in Watpour’s house in 1st grooves. » Discover WALPOLE and VEASEY sealed at table. Waupoue. And so Nithsdale’s escaped! His wife’s mantle and gown; Well—tia, ha! let us hope he’s now out of this town, And in safer disguise thanmy lady’s attire, Gliding fast down the Thames —which he’ll not set on fire. Veasey. All your colleagues are furious, WALPOLE. Ah, yes; if they catch him, Not a hand from the crown of the martyr could spateh him! Of a martyr so pitied the troublesome ghost Would do more for his cause than the arms of a host. These reports from our agents, in boro’ and shire, Show how slowly the sparks of red embers expire. Ah! what thousands will hail in a general election The wild turbulent signal for VRASEY. Fresh insurrection. WALOPLE. ACT II. 13 (gravely). Worse than that ; Civil War !—at all risk, at all cost, We must carry this bill, or the nation is lost. _VeaAsey. Will not Tory and Roundhead against it unite ? Waupous. Every man has his price; I must bribe left and right. So you’ve failed with Bellair—a fresh bait we must ty. As for Blount . Enter SERVANT, L. Servant. Mr. Blount. WALPOLE. Pray admit him. Good-bye. [ Hxit VEASEY, L, SEeRvANT bows in Buount, tL. Biount. Mr. Walpole, you ask my advice on the dues Which the City imposes on coal. WALPOLE. (motions Buount to take seat, u, c.). Sir, excuse That pretence for some talk on more weighty a theme, With a man who commands- Buount (aside), Forty votes. WALPOLE. My esteem. . You're a patriot, and therefore I courted this visit, Hark! your country’s in danger—great danger, sir. Buount (drily). Is it ? Watpotes. And I ask you to save it from certain perdition. Birountr. Me!—I am WALPOLE. Yes, at present in hot opposition. But what’s party? Mere cricket—some out and some in; I have been out myself. At that time I was thin. Atrabilious, sir,—jaundiced ; now rosy and stout, Nothing pulls down a statesman like long fagging out. And to come to the point, now there’s nobody by, Be as stout and as rosy, dear Selden, as I, What! when bad men conspire, shall not good men combine ? There’s a place—the Paymastership—just in your line ; I may say that the fees are ten thousand a year, Besides extras—not mentioned, (aside) The rogue will cost dear. ; Buount. What has that, sir, to do with the national danger To which WALPOLE. You’re too wise to be wholly a stranger. Need I name to a man of your Protestant true heart All the risks we yet run from the Pope and the Stuart ? And the indolent public is so unenlightened That ’tis not to be trusted, and scarce to be frightened. When the term of this Parliament draws to its close, Should King George call another, ’tis filled with his foes, Buiount. You pry soldiers eno’ if the Jacobites rise Waupoue. But a Jacobite house would soon stop their supplies. There’s a General on whom you must own on reflection, The Pretender relies. . BLovunt. Who? WALPOLE. The General Election. Buount. That election must come; you have no other choice. Would you juggle the People and stifle its voice ? Wapoue, That is just what young men fresh from college would say And the People’s a very good thing in its way. But what is the People ?—the mere population ? 14 WALPOLE. No, the sound-thinking part of this practical nation, Who support peace and ordery and steadily all poll’ For the weal of the land ! Buount (aside). In plain words, for Bob Walpole. Waurene. Of a people like this I’ve no doubt, or mistrustings, But I have of the fools who vote wrong at the hustings. Sir, in short, l am always frank-spoken. and hearty, England needs all the patriots that go with your party. We must make the three years of this Parliament seven, And stave off Civil War. You agree ? BuountT (rises). Gracious heaven ! Thus to silence the nation, to baffle its laws, And expect Selden Blount to defend such a cause! What could ever atone for so foul a disgrace? Wa.poue. Everlasting renown—(aside) and the Paymaster’s place, Buount, Sir, your servant—good day; I am not what you thought; I am honest (going UL.) WALPOLE. Who doubts it ? (r7ses.) Buovunt. And not to be bought. WALPOLE (stays Buount at u. c.). You are not to be bought, sir—as- tonishing man ! Let us argue that point. (to c.) If creation you scan, You will find that the children of Adam prevail _ O’er the beasts of the field but by barter and sale, Talk of coals—if it were not for buying and selling, Could you coax from Newcastle a coal to your dwelling ? i You would be to your own fellow-men good for naught, Were it true, as you say, that youre not to be bought. If you find men worth nothing—say, don’t you despise them ? And what proves them worth nothing ?—why nobody buys them. But a man of such worth as yourself! nonsense—come, Sir, to business ; I want you—I buy you; the sum ? Broont. Is corruption so brazen? are manners so base ? WaLpPoLE (aside), That means he don’t much like the Paymaster’s place. (with earnestness and dignity.) Pardon, Blount, I spoke lightly ; but do not mistake, — On mine honor the peace of the land is at stake. Yes, the peace and the freedom ! Were Hampden himself * Living still, would he side with the Stuart or Guelph ? When the Ceesars the freedom of Rome overthrew, All its forms they maintained— twas its spirit they slew! Shall the freedom of England go down to the grave 2 No! the forms let us scorn, so “the spirit we save, Biount. England’s peace and her freedom depend on your bill? WALPOLE (seriously). Thou know’st it—and therefore Biounr. My aid you ask still ! Waupour. Nay, no longer Task, ’tis thy country petitions. Buieyuntr. But you talked about terms. WALPOLE (pushing pen and paper to him). There, then, write your condi- ditions. (BLounT wriies, folds the paper, gives it to Wat- POLE, bows and exit, L. D.) WaLpoue, (reading). ‘‘’Mongst the men who are bought to save Eng- land inscribe me, And my bribe is the head of the man who wou'd bribe me.” Eh! my head! That’s amb:tion much too high-reaching ; 1 suspect that the crocodile hints at impeaching. ACT ID. 1D And he calls himself honest! What highwayman’s worse ? Thus to threaten my life when 1 offer my purse. Hem! he can’t be in debt, as the common talk runs, For the man who scorns money has never known duns. And yet dave him I must! Shall I force or entice? Let me think—let me think ; every man has his price. [ Lxit WALPOLE, slowly, R. Scene changes to SCENE II.—4 room in Mrs. Vizarv’s house, in 2a grooves. Enter Mrs, V1zarp, RB. Mrs. Vizarp. Tis the day when the Jacobite nobles bespeak This safa room for a chat on affairs once a-week. (Anock with- out, L. ) Ah, they come. Enter, D. F., two JACOBITE Lorbs, and NITHSDALE, disguised as a woman, First Lorp. Ma’am, well knowing your zeal for our king, To your house we haye ventured this lady to bring. She will quit you at sunset—nay, haply, much svoner— For a voyage to France in some trusty Dutch schooner. Hist !—her husband in exile she goes to rejoin, And our homes are so watched Mrs. Viz. That she’s safer in mine, Come with me, my dear lady, I have in my care A young ward First L, Who must see her not! Till we prepare Her departure, conceal her from all prying eyes ; She is timid, and looks on new faces as spies. : Send your servant on business that keeps her away Until nightfall;—her trouble permit me to pay. (giving a purse, \ Mrs. Viz. Nay, my lord, I don’t need First L. Quick—your servant release. Mrs. Viz. I will send her to Kent witha note to my niece. { Hait, Mrs. VizarD, Rf. First L. (to Niruspaur). Here you are safe; still I tremble until you are freed ; Keep sharp watch at the window—the signal’s agreed. When a pebble’s thrown up at the pane, you will know *Tis my envoy ;—a carriage will wait you below. Nituspaue. And, if, ere you can send him, soine peril befall ? First L. Risk your flight to the inn near the steps at Blackwall. Re-enter Mrs. VIZARD, R. Mrs. Viz. She is gone. First L. Lead the lady at onee to her room. Mrs. Viz. (opening u. p.). No man dares enter here. NITHSDALE (aside). Where she sleeps, 1 presume. [ Exewnt Mrs. VIzARD and Nrruspaug, L. D. Sxcoxp L. You still firmly believe, tho’ revolt is put duwn, That King James is as sure to recover his crown. f 16 WALPOLE. First Lorp. Yes; but wait till this Parliament’s close is decreed, And then up with our banner from Thames to the Tweed. (knock at back, Rr. side) Who knocks? Some new friend ? Einier Mrs. VizarD, L., crosses to R. Mrs. V. (looking éut of the window, n.). Oh! quick--quick —do not stay! It is Blount. Bota Lorps. What, the Roundhead ? Mrr. V. (opening concealed door, L. in F.). Here—here—the back way. [Zxit Mrs. VIZARD, D. F. First L. (as they get tou. p. in F.). Hush! aud wait till he’s safe within — doors. Ssconp L. But our foes She admis ? : ‘ First L. By my sanction—their plans to disclose. Hixeunt JAcoBITE Logps, L. D. i F., gust as enter Buount and Mrs. Viz- ARD, D. F. Mrs. Viz. I had sent out my servant; this is not your hour. Buount. Mistress Vizard. Mrs Viz. Sweet sir! (aside) He looks horridly sour. Buiount. I enjoined you when trusting my ward to your eare Mrs. Viz. To conceal from herself the true name that you bear. Buount. And she still has no guess Mrs. Viz. That in Jones, christened John, Tis the great Selden Blount whom she gazes upon. Buount. And my second injunction Mrs. Viz. Was duly to teach her To respect all you say, as if said by a preacher. “Buount. R ‘ : ~— vi 7 , ad] * a s ‘ he . ‘ [ “—- v ee ; * 1 . % 7 fk ¥ * “ s " wt A ’ ° or ' A nie th * ih ‘ Mi _ “ he # tad ‘ a ~ _ 7 Pes) tre Oem “a ~ a B a j “a i :