The Lame Lover

PROLOGUE

Dramatis Personæ

ACT I

I tell you, Sir, his love to me is all a pretence: it is amazing that you, who are so acute, so quick in discerning on other occasions, should be so blind upon this.

But where are your proofs, Charlot? What signifies your opening matters which your evidence cannot support?

Surely, Sir, strong circumstances in every court should have weight.

So they have collaterally, child, that is by way as it were of corroboration, or where matters are doubtful; then indeed, as Plowden wisely observes "Les circonstances ajout beaucoup depoids aux faits." – You understand me?

Not perfectly well.

Then to explain by case in point; A, we will suppose, my dear, robs B of a watch upon Hounslow heath – dy'e mind, child?

I do, Sir.

A, is taken up and indicted; B swears positively to the identity of A. – Dy'e observe?

Attentively.

Then what does me A, but sets up the alibi C, to defeat the affidavit of B. – You take me.

Clearly.

So far you see then the ballance is even.

True.

But then to turn the scale, child, against A, in favour of B, they produce the circumstance D, viz. B's watch found in the pocket of A; upon which, the testimony of C being contradicted by B, – no, by D, – why then A, that is to say C, – no D, – joining B, they convict C, – no, no, A, – against the affidavit of C. – So this being pretty clear, child, I leave the application to you.

Very obliging, Sir. But suppose now, Sir, it should appear that the attention of Sir Luke Limp is directed to some other object, would not that induce you to —

Other object! Where?

In this very house.

Here! why the girl is non compos; there's nobody here, child, but a parcel of Abigals.

No, Sir?

No.

Yes, Sir, one person else.

Who is that?

But remember, Sir, my accusation is confined to Sir Luke.

Well, well.

Suppose then, Sir, those powerful charms which made a conquest of you, may have extended their empire over the heart of Sir Luke?

Why, hussy, you don't hint at your mother-in-law?

Indeed, Sir, but I do.

Ay; why this is point blank treason against my sovereign authority: but can you, Charlot, bring proof of any overt acts?

Overt acts!

Ay; that is any declaration by writing, or even word of mouth is sufficient; then let 'em demur if they dare.

I can't say that, Sir; but another organ has been pretty explicit.

Which?

In those cases a very infallible one – the eye.

Pshaw! nonsense and stuff. – The eye! – The eye has no authority in a court of law.

Perhaps not, Sir, but it is a decisive evidence in a court of love.

Hark you, hussy, why you would not file an information against the virtue of madam your mother; you would not insinuate that she has been guilty of crim. con.?

Sir, you mistake me; it is not the lady, but the gentleman I am about to impeach.

Have a care, Charlot! I see on what ground your action is founded – jealousy.

You were never more deceiv'd in your life; for it is impossible, my dear Sir, that jealousy can subsist without love.

Well.

And from that passion (thank heaven) I am pretty free at present.

Indeed!

A sweet object to excite tender desires!

And why not, hussy?

First as to his years.

What then?

I own, Sir, age procures honor, but I believe it is very rarely productive of love.

Mighty well.

And tho' the loss of a leg can't be imputed to Sir Luke Limp as a fault —

How!

I hope, Sir, at least you will allow it a misfortune.

Indeed!

A pretty thing truly, for a girl, at my time of life, to be ty'd to a man with one foot in the grave.

One foot in the grave! the rest of his body is not a whit the nearer for that. – There has been only an execution issued against part of his personals, his real estate is unencumbered and free – besides, you see he does not mind it a whit, but is as alert, and as merry, as a defendant after non-suiting a plaintiff for omitting an S.

O! Sir! I know how proud Sir Luke is of his leg, and have often heard him declare, that he would not change his bit of timber for the best flesh and bone in the kingdom.

There's a hero for you!

To be sure, sustaining unavoidable evils with constancy is a certain sign of greatness of mind.

Doubtless.

But then to derive a vanity from a misfortune, will not I'm afraid be admitted as a vast instance of wisdom, and indeed looks as if the man had nothing better to distinguish himself by.

How does that follow?

By inunendo.

Negatur.

Besides, Sir, I have other proofs of your hero's vanity, not inferior to that I have mention'd.

Cite them.

The paltry ambition of levying and following titles.

Titles! I don't understand you?

I mean the poverty of fastening in public upon men of distinction, for no other reason but because of their rank; adhering to Sir John till the Baronet is superceded by my Lord; quitting the puny Peer for an Earl; and sacrificing all three to a Duke.

Keeping good company! a laudable ambition!

True, Sir, if the virtues that procur'd the father a peerage, could with that be entail'd on the son.

Have a care, hussy – there are severe laws against speaking evil of dignities. —

Sir!

Scandalum magnatum is a statute must not be trifled with: why you are not one of those vulgar sluts that think a man the worse for being a Lord?

No, Sir; I am contented with only, not thinking him the better.

For all this, I believe, hussy, a right honourable proposal would soon make you alter your mind.

Not unless the proposer had other qualities than what he possesses by patent. Besides, Sir, you know Sir Luke is a devotee to the bottle.

Not a whit the less honest for that.

It occasions one evil at least; that when under its influence, he generally reveals all, sometimes more than he knows.

Proofs of an open temper, you baggage: but, come, come, all these are but trifling objections.

You mean, Sir, they prove the object a trifle.

Why you pert jade; do you play on my words? I say Sir Luke is —

Nobody.

Nobody! how the deuce do you make that out? – He is neither person attained or outlaw'd, may in any of his majesty's courts sue or be sued, appear by attorney, or in propria persona, can acquire, buy, procure, purchase, possess, and inherit, not only personalities, such as goods, and chattels, but even realities, as all lands, tenements, and hereditaments, whatsoever, and wheresoever.

But, Sir —

Nay, further child, he may sell, give, bestow, bequeath, devise, demise, lease, or to farm lett, ditto lands, to any person whomsoever – and —

Without doubt, Sir; but there are notwithstanding in this town a great number of nobodies, not described by lord Coke.

Hey!

There is your next-door neighbour, Sir Harry Hen, an absolute blank.

How so, Mrs. Pert?

What, Sir! a man who is not suffer'd to hear, see, smell, or in short to enjoy the free use of any one of his senses; who, instead of having a positive will of his own, is deny'd even a paltry negative; who can neither resolve or reply, consent or deny, without first obtaining the leave of his lady: an absolute monarch to sink into the sneaking state of being a slave to one of his subjects – Oh fye!

Why, to be sure, Sir Harry Hen, is as I may say —

Nobody Sir, in the fullest sense of the word – Then your client Lord Solo.

Heyday! – Why you would not annihilate a peer of the realm, with a prodigious estate and an allow'd judge too of the elegant arts.

O yes, Sir, I am no stranger to that nobleman's attributes; but then, Sir, please to consider, his power as a peer he gives up to a proxy; the direction of his estate, to a rapacious, artful attorney: and as to his skill in the elegant arts, I presume you confine them to painting and music, he is directed in the first by Mynheer Van Eisel, a Dutch dauber; and in the last is but the echo of Signora Florenza, his lordship's mistress and an opera singer.

Mercy upon us! at what a rate the jade runs!

In short, Sir, I define every individual who, ceasing to act for himself, becomes the tool, the mere engine of another man's will, to be nothing more than a cypher.

At this rate the jade will half unpeople the world: but what is all this to Sir Luke? to him, not one of your cases apply.

Every one – Sir Luke has not a first principle in his whole composition; not only his pleasures, but even his passions are prompted by others; and he is as much directed to the objects of his love and his hatred, as in his eating, drinking, and dressing. Nay, though he is active, and eternally busy, yet his own private affairs are neglected; and he would not scruple to break an appointment that was to determine a considerable part of his property, in order to exchange a couple of hounds for a lord, or to buy a pad-nag for a lady. In a word – but he's at hand, and will explain himself best; I hear his stump on the stairs.

I hope you will preserve a little decency before your lover at least.

Lover! ha, ha, ha!

Mr. Serjeant, your slave – Ah! are you there my little – O Lord! Miss, let me tell you something for fear of forgetting – Do you know that you are new christen'd, and have had me for a gossip?

Christen'd! I don't understand you.

Then lend me your ear – Why last night, as Colonel Kill'em, Sir William Weezy, Lord Frederick Foretop, and I were carelessly sliding the Ranelagh round, picking our teeth, after a damn'd muzzy dinner at Boodle's, who should trip by but an abbess, well known about town, with a smart little nun in her suite. Says Weezy (who, between ourselves, is as husky as hell) Who is that? odds flesh, she's a delicate wench! Zounds! cried Lord Frederick, where can Weezy have been, not to have seen the Harietta before? for you must know Frederick is a bit of Macaroni, and adores the soft Italian termination in a.

He does?

Yes, a delitanti all over. – Before? replied Weezy; crush me if ever I saw any thing half so handsome before! – No! replied I in an instant; Colonel, what will Weezy say when he sees the Charlotta? – Hey! you little —

Meaning me, I presume.

Without doubt; and you have been toasted by that name ever since.

What a vast fund of spirits he has!

And why not, my old splitter of causes?

I was just telling Charlot, that you was not a whit the worse for the loss.

The worse! much the better, my dear. Consider, I can have neither strain, splint, spavin, or gout; have no fear of corns, kibes, or that another man should kick my shins, or tread on my toes.

Right.

What d'ye think I would change with Bill Spindle for one of his drumsticks, or chop with Lord Lumber for both of his logs?

No!

No, damn it, I am much better. – Look there – Ha! – What is there I am not able to do? To be sure I am a little aukward at running; but then, to make me amends, I'll hop with any man in town for his sum.

Ay, and I'll go his halves.

Then as to your dancing, I am cut out at Madam Cornelly's, I grant, because of the croud; but as far as a private set of six couple, or moving a chair-minuet, match me who can.

A chair-minuet! I don't understand you.

Why, child, all grace is confined to the motion of the head, arms, and chest, which may sitting be as fully displayed, as if one had as many legs as a polypus. – As thus – tol de rol – don't you see?

Very plain.

A leg! a redundancy! a mere nothing at all. Man is from nature an extravagant creature. In my opinion, we might all be full as well as we are, with but half the things that we have.

Ay, Sir Luke; how do you prove that?

By constant experience. – You must have seen the man who makes and uses pens without hands.

I have.

And not a twelvemonth agone, I lost my way in a fog, at Mile-End, and was conducted to my house in May-Fair by a man as blind as a beetle.

Wonderful!

And as to hearing and speaking, those organs are of no manner of use in the world.

How!

If you doubt it, I will introduce you to a whole family, dumb as oysters, and deaf as the dead, who chatter from morning till night by only the help of their fingers.

Why, Charlot, these are cases in point.

Oh! clear as a trout-stream; and it is not only, my little Charlot, that this piece of timber answers every purpose, but it has procured me many a bit of fun in my time.

Ay!

Why, it was but last summer, at Tunbridge, we were plagued the whole season by a bullet-headed Swiss from the canton of Bern, who was always boasting, what, and how much he dared do; and then, as to pain, no Stoic, not Diogenes, held it more in contempt. – By gods, he vas no more minds it dan notings at all – So, foregad, I gave my German a challenge.

As how! – Mind, Charlot.

Why to drive a corkin pin into the calves of our legs.

Well, well.

Mine, you may imagine, was easily done – but when it came to the Baron —

Ay, ay.

Our modern Cato soon lost his coolness and courage, screw'd his nose up to his foretop, rapp'd out a dozen oaths in high Dutch, limp'd away to his lodgings, and was there laid up for a month – Ha, ha, ha!

"Sir Gregory Goose desires the honour of Sir Luke Limp's company to dine. An answer is desired." Gadso! a little unlucky; I have been engag'd for these three weeks.

What, I find Sir Gregory is return'd for the corporation of Fleesum.

Is he so? Oh ho! – That alters the case. – George, give my compliments to Sir Gregory, and I'll certainly come and dine there. Order Joe to run to alderman Inkle's, in Threadneedle-street; sorry can't wait upon him, but confin'd to bed two days with new influenza.

You make light, Sir Luke, of these sort of engagements.

What can a man do? These damn'd fellows (when one has the misfortune to meet them) take scandalous advantage; teaze, When will you do me the honour, pray, Sir Luke, to take a bit of mutton with me? Do you name the day – They are as bad as a beggar, who attacks your coach at the mounting of a hill; there is no getting rid of them, without a penny to one, and a promise to t'other.

True; and then for such a time too – three weeks! I wonder they expect folks to remember. It is like a retainer in Michaelmas term for the summer assizes.

Not but, upon these occasions, no man in England is more punctual than —

Earl of Brentford. The servant waits for an answer.

Answer! – By your leave, Mr. Serjeant and Charlot. [Reads.] "Taste for music – Mons. Duport – fail – Dinner upon table at five" – Gadso! I hope Sir Gregory's servant an't gone.

Immediately upon receiving the answer.

Run after him as fast as you can – tell him, quite in despair – recollect an engagement that can't in nature be missed, – and return in an instant.

You see, Sir, the Knight must give way for my Lord.

No, faith, it is not that, my dear Charlot; you saw that was quite an extempore business. – No, hang it, no, it is not for the title; but to tell you the truth, Brentford has more wit than any man in the world; it is that makes me fond of his house.

By the choice of his company he gives an unanswerable instance of that.

You are right, my dear girl. But now to give you a proof of his wit: You know Brentford's finances are a little out of repair, which procures him some visits that he would very gladly excuse.

What need he fear? His person is sacred; for by the tenth of William and Mary —

He knows that well enough; but for all that —

Indeed, by a late act of his own house, (which does them infinite honour) his goods or chattels may be —

Seiz'd upon when they can find them, but he lives in ready-furnish'd lodgings, and hires his coach by the month.

Nay, if the sheriff return "non inventus" —

A pox o' your law, you make me lose sight of my story. One morning, a Welch coach-maker came with his bill to my Lord, whose name was unluckily Loyd. My Lord had the man up. You are call'd, I think, Mr. Loyd? – At your Lordship's service, my Lord. – What, Loyd with an L? – It was with an L indeed, my Lord. – Because in your part of the world I have heard that Loyd and Floyd were synonymous, the very same names. – Very often indeed, my lord. – But you always spell your's with an L? – Always. – That, Mr. Loyd, is a little unlucky; for you must know I am now paying my debts alphabetically, and in four or five years you might have come in with an F; but I am afraid I can give you no hopes for your L. – Ha, ha, ha!

There was no overtaking the servant.

That is unlucky: tell my Lord I'll attend him. – I'll call on Sir Gregory myself.

Why, you won't leave us, Sir Luke?

Pardon, dear Serjeant and Charlotta; have a thousand things to do for half a million of people positively; promised to procure a husband for Lady Cicely Sulky, and match a coach-horse for Brigadier Whip; after that, must run into the city to borrow a thousand for young At-all at Almack's; send a Cheshire cheese by the stage to Sir Timothy Tankard in Suffolk; and get at the Herald's Office a coat of arms to clap on the coach of Billy Bengal, a nabob newly arriv'd: so you see I have not a moment to lose.

True, true.

At your toilet to-morrow at ten you may —

Can't you see where you are running you, rascal!

Sir, his grace the Duke of —

Grace! – Where is he? – Where —

In his coach at the door. – If you an't better engaged would be glad of your company to go into the city, and take a dinner at Dolly's.

In his own coach did you say?

Yes, Sir.

With the coronets – or —

I believe so.

There's no resisting of that. – Bid Joe run to Sir Gregory Goose's.

He is already gone to alderman Inkle's.

Then do you step to the Knight – hey! – no – you must go to my Lord's – hold, hold, no – I have it – Step first to Sir Greg's, then pop in at Lord Brentford's just as the company are going to dinner.

What shall I say to Sir Gregory?

Any thing – what I told you before.

And what to my Lord?

What! – Why tell him that my uncle from Epsom – no – that won't do, for he knows I don't care a farthing for him – hey! – Why tell him – hold I have it – Tell him, that as I was going into my chair to obey his commands, I was arrested by a couple of bailiffs, forced into a hackney coach, and carried to the Py'd Bull in the Borough; I beg ten thousand pardons for making his grace wait, but his grace knows my misfor —

Well, Sir, what dy'e think of the proofs? I flatter myself I have pretty well established my case.

Why, hussy, you have hit upon points; but then they are but trifling flaws, they don't vitiate the title, that stands unimpeach'd; and – But, madam, your mother.

What have you done with the Knight? – Why you have not let him depart?

It was not in my power to keep him.

I don't wonder at that; but what took him away?

What will at any time take him away – a Duke at the door.

Are you certain of that?

Why truly, chuck, his retreat was rather precipitate for a man that is just going to be marry'd.

The prospect of marriage does not always prove the strongest attachment.

Pardon me, lovee; the law allows no higher consideration than marriage.

Pshaw!

Insomuch, that if duke A was to intermarry with chambermaid B, difference of condition would prove no bar to the settlement.

Indeed!

Ay; and this was held to be law by Chief-baron Bind'em, on the famous case of the Marquis of Cully, and Fanny Flip-flap the French dancer.

The greater blockhead the Baron: but don't pester me with your odious law cases. – Did not you tell me you was to go to Kingston to day to try the crown causes?

I was begg'd to attend for fear his Lordship should not be able to sit; but if it proves inconvenient to you —

To me! Oh, by no means in the world; I am too good a subject to desire the least delay in the law's execution: and when d'ye set out?

Between one and two; I shall only just give a law lecture to Jack.