THE 
 
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 • liONDON © 
 ASSURANCE 
 
 
 
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London Assurance 
 
 A Comedy in Five Acts 
 
 By 
 DION L. BOUCICAULT 
 
 This version is based upon the text employed in the prompt- 
 book of the Boston Museum and gives the stage business 
 used in the performances of the play at that once famous house. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
 
 191 1 
 
« 
 
 London Assurance 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Covent Garden Park Theatre Tremont Theatre 
 
 London, New York, Boston, 
 
 March 4, 1841. Oct. 11,1841. Dec. 20, 1841. 
 
 Sir Harcourt Court- 
 ly Mr. W. Farren Mr. Placide John Gilbert 
 
 Charles Courtly . J. R. Anderson Wm. Wheatley Mr. Cheswick 
 
 Dazzle Chas. Matthews Mr. Browne J. M. Field 
 
 Max Harkaway . . Mr. Bartley Mr. Fisher 
 
 Dolly Spanker . . Robert Keeley W. H. Williams S. D. Johnson 
 
 Mark Meddle . . .Mr. Harley Mr. Latham Mr. Johnson 
 
 Cool Mr. Brindall Mr. A. Andrews Mr. Fenno 
 
 Solomon Isaacs . . W. H. Payne 
 
 Martin Mr. Ayliffe Mr. Howard 
 
 James Simpson . . .Mr. Honner Mr. King 
 
 Lady Gay Spanker . Mrs. Nisbett Charlotte Cushman Charlotte 
 
 Cushman 
 
 Grace Harkaway . Mme. Vestris Miss Clarendon Mrs. Field 
 
 Pert Mrs. Humby Mrs. Vernon Miss Fisher 
 
 Copyright, 191 1, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 
 
 ©C1.D 23323 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 The authorship of " London Assurance " has been ascribed 
 to Mr. Dion L. Boucicault alone in every edition of the play 
 that has ever been printed, and this public claim has never 
 been directly challenged ; yet Mr. John Brougham, at divers 
 places and times, has privately declared that he was a joint 
 author in this work, and in a synopsis of his career written in 
 1868 for and at the request of his subsequent biographer, Mr. 
 William Winter, has made the definite statement that he " wrote 
 ' London Assurance ' in conjunction with Boucicault, who 
 claimed the entire authorship, according to his usual ungener- 
 ousness." He further writes: "Had to bring an action 
 against D. B., whose legal adviser suggested payment of half 
 the purchase money rather than conduct so damaging a case." 
 As Mr. Brougham evidently regarded this alleged settlement as 
 ample indemnity for his share in the play and never afterward 
 took the trouble to secure recognition in the matter, and as 
 Mr. Boucicault subsequently proved himself to have been quite 
 competent to perform the work unaided, it may be fairly con- 
 cluded that Brougham's share in this play was slight and his 
 deserts less than was implied in the above quotation. The 
 doubt that exists in this recent matter of disputed authorship 
 of an unusually well-known play between two exceptionally 
 well-known men of contemporary fame is full of interest to the 
 partizans of Bacon and Shakespeare in a similar controversy. 
 
 "London Assurance" was, accepting Mr. Boucicault as its 
 sole author, the maiden effort of the most prolific and success- 
 ful play maker of the nineteenth century. At the time of its 
 first production at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, during 
 the management of Mme. Vestris, March 4, 1841, the author 
 — if the date of his birth, December 26, 1822, may be accepted 
 on his own evidence — was in his twentieth year. The play 
 was a great success ; it is safe to say that no dramatist ever 
 had such a success for his first effort and at so early a period 
 of his life. " London Assurance " was produced under a 
 nom de plume, its authorship having been ascribed on the pro- 
 gram of the first production to "Lee Morton," but its success 
 made this precautionary incognito at once undesirable. 
 
 3 
 
4 INTRODUCTION 
 
 At the time of its first production many were inclined to as- 
 cribe its success to the fine cast that was given to it, feeling 
 that a play with Charles Matthews and his wife, Mme. Vestris, 
 in it, supported by beautiful Louisa Nisbett (the original Con- 
 stance in " The Love Chase " as well), the elder Farren, J. C. 
 Anderson, Robert Keeley, Mrs. Humby, and Bartley could 
 hardly fail. That that estimate was erroneous has been proved 
 by the vitality of the play, which even to-day is often revived 
 and is a favorite in the list of the so-called old comedies. 
 
 " London Assurance " is the most artificial of plays, but it 
 is the best possible example of the difference between art and 
 real life and at the age of more than half a century it is still a 
 good acting play. Its characters are all humbugs. There is 
 not an honest sentiment or a touch of fine feeling in the entire 
 play. Yet it is full of movement, full of life, and so well 
 adapted to the actor's purpose that it is likely to enjoy long 
 life yet. It belongs to a period when players acted. Its 
 language is of an era when elocution was not despised, and 
 actors who cannot read, and read in a declamatory manner, 
 may struggle in vain for success in parts that are really grateful 
 enough to the well equipped player of elocutionary roles. 
 The modern colloquial manner will ruin this play. Yet no 
 play of this period has been more often revived, or is more 
 popular with ambitious amateurs. 
 
 In preparing this book the prompt book used for years at the 
 Boston Museum, the best known stock company theatre in this 
 country, has been used, and the text carefully collated with 
 the original edition. The traditional cuts have been made, 
 but they were not many, being confined exclusively to the 
 bombastic speeches of Grace and young Courtly in the second 
 act and serving to shorten up a talky scene and much improve 
 it. All the traditional gags which have become a part of the 
 text by frequent use, and which, though never before printed 
 in a stage copy of the play, will be heard in every regular pro- 
 duction of the piece and found inserted in all stage managers' 
 copies, are printed here for the first time. These lines will be 
 recognized as the lines which always go with the greatest spirit, 
 for they are tried improvements of famous actors accepted by 
 stage managers because they were proven good. In the third 
 act, for the first time, the first Lady Gay scene is printed as 
 it is always played, a double transposition of the lines having 
 always been made by stage managers in preparing the prompt 
 book. This transposition of the lines remedies an anti-climax 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 in the speeches of the first Lady Gay scene, and the success of 
 that great scene, for which most actresses play the part, is thus 
 assured, as it could not be in the arrangement of the original. 
 That, too, is the practical result of the player's experience. 
 The stage business, the relative positions of the players on the 
 stage, are also indicated, making this edition of " London As- 
 surance " the first complete stage version ever published either 
 here or in England, and one from which regular companies can 
 prepare the play without the aid of parts. 
 
 " London Assurance " was originally dressed, of course, in 
 the costume of 1840, but as the play retained the stage for 
 years the habit of always making its time " present " held, and 
 each decade dressed it in the costume of its own period until 
 now it is more frequently seen in modern dress than in any 
 other, and may as well be played so. But for those who wish 
 to dress it in the garb of its real period, the costumes of the 
 first production, as printed in the first edition of the play — 
 published in Baltimore in 1842 — are given. 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Sir Harcourt Courtly. — First Dress : Brocade morn- 
 ing gown, red slippers, velvet cap, etc. Second Dress : 
 Black frock coat and gaiter pantaloons, cloak and low hat. 
 Third Dress : Blue dress coat, light pantaloons, white 
 waistcoat, black stock, with whiskers. 
 
 Dazzle. — First Dress : Green coat, drab gaiter panta- 
 loons, silk flowered vest. Second Dress : Light drab over- 
 coat over first dress. Third Dress : Blue dress coat, bright 
 velvet vest, and stock, and blue pants of a light shade. 
 
 Charles Courtly. — First Dress : Green coat, light 
 gaiter pants, cloak. Second Dress : Brown coat over first 
 dress. Third Dress : Fashionable black dress of the period. 
 
 Meddle. — Brown coat, white vest, dark pantaloons. 
 
 Cool. — Light coat, white vest, dark pantaloons. 
 
 Spanker. — First Dress : Blue coat, dark vest, checkered 
 pantaloons. (This dress was changed soon after for the pink 
 riding coat the Englishmen are so fond of, big white riding 
 breeches and yellow top boots.) Second Dress : Black coat 
 and pants and white vest. 
 
 Lady Gay Spanker. — First Dress : Dark green riding 
 habit, riding boots, high hat, and whip. Second Dress : A 
 decollete evening gown. 
 
 Grace. — First Dress : Morning dress of muslin, ruffled 
 and with broad sash. Second Dress : Decollete dinner gown. 
 
 Pert. — Light print frock with ruffled apron, with pockets, 
 and white cap. 
 
London Assurance 
 
 ACT I 
 
 Scene. — An anteroom in Sir Harcourt Courtly's house in 
 Belgrave Square. Handsomely furnished room. Table 
 r. c, with chair at either side. 
 
 READY bells and knocks* 
 Enter Cool, c.,from r. 
 
 Cool. Half-past nine, and Mr. Charles has not yet re- 
 turned. I am in a fever of dread. If his father happens to 
 rise earlier than usual on any morning, he is sure to ask first 
 for Mr. Charles. Poor deluded old gentleman — he little thinks 
 how he is deceived. (Enter Martin, lazily, l. 2 e.) Well, 
 Martin, he has not come home yet ! 
 
 Martin. No, and I have not had a wink of sleep all night. 
 I cannot stand this any longer ; I shall give warning. This is 
 the fifth night Mr. Courtly has remained out, and I'm obliged 
 to stand at the hall window to watch for him. 
 
 Cool (r.). You know, if Sir Harcourt was aware that 
 we connived at his son's irregularities, we should all be dis- 
 charged. 
 
 Mar. (l.). I have used up all my common excuses on his 
 duns. " Call again," " Not at home," and " Send it down to 
 you," won't serve anymore; and Mr. Crust, the wine mer- 
 chant, swears he will be paid. 
 
 Cool. So they all say. Why, he has arrests out against 
 him already. I've seen the fellows watching the door. 
 
 KNOCK and ring. 
 
 There he is, just in time— quick, Martin, for I expect Sir Hai- 
 court's bell every moment, 
 
 BELL. 
 
8 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 and there it is. (Exit Mar., slowly, l. 2 e.) Thank heaven ! 
 he will return to college to-morrow, and this heavy responsi- 
 bility will be taken off my shoulders. A valet is as difficult a 
 post to fill properly as that of prime minister. 
 
 Exit c. to l. 
 
 Young Courtly (without*). Hollo-0-0 ! 
 Dazzle {without). Steady. 
 
 Enter Young C. and Dazzle, l. i e. 
 
 Young C. Hollo-0-0 ! 
 
 Daz. (r.). Hush ! what are you about, howling like a 
 Hottentot ? Sit down there, and thank heaven you are in Bel- 
 grave Square instead of Bow Street. 
 
 Young C. (l.). D-d-damn Bow Street. 
 
 Daz. Oh, with all my heart ! — you have not seen as much 
 of it as I have. 
 
 Young C. I say — let me see — what was I going to say? — 
 
 oh, look here (Pulls out a large assortment of bell-pulls, 
 
 knockers, etc., from his pocket.) There! dam'me ! I'll puz- 
 zle the two-penny postmen — I'll deprive them of their right of 
 disturbing the neighborhood. That black lion's head did be- 
 long to old Vampire, the money-lender ; this bell-pull to Miss 
 Stitch, the milliner. 
 
 Daz. And this brass griffin 
 
 Young C. That ! oh, let me see — I think I twisted that off 
 our own hall-door as I came in, while you were paying the 
 cab. 
 
 Daz. What shall I do with them ? 
 
 Young C. Pack 'em in a small hamper, and send 'em to 
 the sitting magistrate with my father's compliments ; in the 
 meantime come into my room, and I'll astonish you with some 
 Burgundy. 
 
 Reenter Cool, c. door. 
 
 Cool (r.). Mr. Charles 
 
 Young C. (a). Out ! out ! not at home to any one. 
 
 Cool. And drunk 
 
 Young C. As a lord. 
 Daz. As a whole House of Lords. 
 
 Cool. If Sir Harcourt knew this he would go mad, he 
 would discharge me. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE g 
 
 Young C. You flatter yourself; that would be no proof of 
 his insanity. (To Daz., l.) This is Cool, sir — Mr. Cool; he 
 keeps the keys of the wine cellar. 
 
 Daz. I am always happy to shake hands with the man that 
 keeps the keys of the wine cellar. 
 
 Young C. Mr. Cool, sir; he's the best liar in London. 
 Cool, tell us a lie — there's a pungency about his invention and 
 an originality in his equivocation, that is perfectly refreshing. 
 
 Cool (aside). Why, Mr. Charles, where did you pick 
 him up ? 
 
 Young C. You mistake, he picked me up. 
 
 BELL at L. rings* 
 
 Cool. Here comes Sir Harcourt — pray do not let him see 
 you in this state. 
 
 Young C State ! what do you mean ? I am in a beautiful 
 state. 
 
 Cool. I should lose my character. 
 
 Young C. That would be a fortunate epoch in your life, 
 Cool. 
 
 Cool. Your father would discharge me. 
 
 Young C. Cool, my dad is an old ass. 
 
 Cool (l.). Retire to your own room, for heaven's sake, Mr. 
 Charles. 
 
 Young C. (a). I'll do so for my own sake. (To Daz.) 
 I say, old fellow (staggering), just hold the door steady while 
 I go in. 
 
 Daz. (r.). This way. Now, then ! — take care ! 
 
 (Helps him exit into the room, r. 2 e.) 
 
 Enter Sir Harcourt Courtly, l., in an elegant dressing- 
 gown, and Greek skullcap and tassels, etc. 
 
 Sir H. (a). Cool, is breakfast ready ? 
 
 Cool (r.). Quite ready, Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Sir H. (l.). Apropos, I omitted to mention that I expect 
 Squire Harkaway to join us this morning, and you must pre- 
 pare for my departure to Oak Hall immediately. 
 
 Cool. Leave town in the middle of the season, Sir Har- 
 court ? So unprecedented a proceeding ! 
 
 Sir H. It is ! I confess it ; there is but one power could 
 effect such a miracle — that is divinity. 
 
IO LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Cool. How ? 
 
 Sir H. In female form, of course. Cool, I am about to 
 present society with a second Lady Courtly ; young — blushing 
 eighteen ; lovely ! I have her portrait ; rich ! I have her 
 banker's account; — an heiress, and a Venus ! 
 
 Cool. Lady Courtly could be none other. 
 
 Sir H. Ha I ha ! Cool, your manners are above your 
 station. Apropos, I shall find no further use for my brocade 
 dressing-gown. 
 
 Cool. I thank you, Sir Harcourt ; might I ask who the 
 fortunate lady is ? 
 
 Sir H. Certainly ; Miss Grace Harkaway, the niece of my 
 old friend, Max. 
 
 Cool. Have you never seen the lady, sir? 
 
 Sir H. Never — that is, yes — eight years ago. Having 
 been, as you know, on the Continent for the last seven years, 
 I have not had the opportunity of paying my devoirs. Our 
 connection and betrothal was a very extraordinary one. Her 
 father's estates were contiguous to mine ; — being a penurious, 
 miserly, ugly old scoundrel, he made a market of my indiscre- 
 tion, and supplied my extravagance with large sums of money 
 on mortgages, his great desire being to unite the two properties. 
 About seven years ago he died — leaving Grace, a girl, to the 
 guardianship of her uncle, with this will : — if, on attaining the 
 age of nineteen, she would consent to marry me, I should re- 
 ceive those deeds, and all his property, as her dowry. If she 
 refused to comply with this condition, they should revert to my 
 heir, presumptive or apparent. She consents. 
 
 Cool {aside). Who would not? 
 
 Sir H. I consent to receive her fifteen thousand pounds a 
 year. (Crosses to r.) 
 
 Cool (l.). Who would not? 
 
 Sir H. (r.). So prepare, Cool, prepare (crossing to*.)-, but 
 where is my boy, where is Charles ? 
 
 Cool. Why — oh, he is gone out, Sir Harcourt ; yes, gone 
 out to take a walk. 
 
 Sir H. Poor child ! A perfect child in heart — a sober, 
 placid mind — the simplicity and verdure of boyhood, kept fresh 
 and unsullied by any contact with society. Tell me, Cool, at 
 what time was he in bed last night ? 
 
 Cool. Half-past nine, Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Sir H. Half-past nine ! Beautiful ! What an original 
 idea! Reposing in cherub slumbers, while all around him 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE II 
 
 teems with drinking and debauchery ! Primitive sweetness of 
 nature ! no pilot-coated, bear-skinned brawling ! 
 
 Cool. Oh, Sir Harcourt ! 
 
 Sir H. No cigar smoking 
 
 Cool. Faints at the smell of one. 
 
 Sir H. No brandy and water bibbing 
 
 Cool. Doesn't know the taste of anything stronger than 
 barley-water. 
 
 Sir H. No night parading 
 
 Cool. Never heard the clock strike twelve, except at 
 noon. {Up l.) 
 
 Sir H. In fact, he is my son, and became a gentleman by 
 right of paternity — he inherited my manners. 
 
 Enter Mar., l. 2 e. 
 
 Mar. Mr. Harkaway. 
 
 Enter Max Harkaway, l. 2 e., and gives his hat and cane 
 to Mar., who places them o?i table at l., and exit L. 2 E. 
 
 Max (l.). Squire Harkaway, fellow, or Max Harkaway, 
 another time. Ah ! ha ! Sir Harcourt, I'm devilish glad to 
 see you ! Gi' me your fist — dang it but I'm glad to see you ! 
 Let me see : six — seven years or more, since we have met. 
 How quickly they have flown ! 
 
 Sir H. (r., throwing off his studied manner). Max, Max ! 
 give me your hand, old boy. {Aside.) Ah ! he is glad to see 
 me ; there is no fawning pretense about that squeeze. Cool, 
 you may retire. 
 
 Exit Cool, c. to r. 
 
 Max. Why, you are looking quite rosy. 
 
 Sir H. Ah, ah ! rosy ! Am I too florid ? 
 
 Max. Not a bit ; not a bit. 
 
 Sir H. I thought so. {Aside.) Cool said I had put too 
 much on. 
 
 Max (l.). How comes it, Courtly, you manage to retain 
 your youth ? See, I'm as gray as an old badger, or a wild rab- 
 bit ; while you are — are as black as a young rook. I say, 
 whose head grew your hair, eh ? 
 
 Sir H. Permit me to remark, that all the beauties of my 
 person are of home manufacture. Why should you be sur- 
 prised at my youth ? I have scarcely thrown off the giddiness 
 
12 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 of a very boy— elasticity of limb — buoyancy of soul ! Remark 
 this position. {Throws himself into an attitude?) I held that 
 attitude for ten minutes at Lady Acid's last reunion, at the 
 express desire of one of our first sculptors, while he was making 
 a sketch of me for the Apollo. 
 
 Max (aside). Making a butt of thee for their gibes. 
 
 Sir H. Lady Sarah Sarcasm started up, and, pointing to 
 my face, ejaculated, " Good gracious ! does not Sir Harcourt 
 remind you of the countenance of Ajax, in the Pompeian 
 portrait?" 
 
 Max. Ajax ! — humbug ! 
 
 Sir H. You are complimentary. {Sits l. of table R.) 
 
 Max. I'm a plain man, and always speak my mind. What's 
 in a face or figure ? Does a Grecian nose entail a good temper ? 
 Does a waspish waist indicate a good heart ? Or, do oily per- 
 fumed locks necessarily thatch a well-furnished brain ? 
 
 {Sits l. of table R.) 
 
 Sir H. It's an undeniable fact, plain people always praise 
 the beauties of the mind. 
 
 Max. Excuse the insinuation ; I had thought the first Lady 
 Courtly had surfeited you with beauty. 
 
 Sir H. No; she lived fourteen months with me, and then 
 eloped with an intimate friend. Etiquette compelled me to 
 challenge the seducer ; so I received satisfaction — and a bullet 
 in my shoulder at the same time. However, I had the conso- 
 lation of knowing that he was the handsomest man of the age. 
 She did not insult me by running away with a damned ill- 
 looking scoundrel. 
 
 Max. That, certainly, was flattering. 
 
 Sir H. I felt so, as I pocketed the ten thousand pounds 
 damages. 
 
 Max. That must have been a great balm to your sore 
 honor. 
 
 Sir H. It was — Max, my honor would have died without 
 it ; for on that year the wrong horse won the Derby — by some 
 mistake. It was one of the luckiest chances — a thing that does 
 not happen twice in a man's life — the opportunity of getting 
 rid of his wife and his debts at the same time. 
 
 Max. Tell the truth, Courtly — Did you not feel a little 
 frayed in your delicacy — your honor, now ? Eh ? 
 
 Sir H. Not a whit. Why should I ? I married money, 
 and I received it — virgin gold ! My delicacy and honor had 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 1 3 
 
 nothing to do with it. The world pities the bereaved husband, 
 when it should congratulate. No ; the affair made a sensation, 
 and I was the object. Besides, it is vulgar to make a parade 
 of one's feelings, however acute they may be; impenetrability 
 of countenance is the sure sign of your highly- bred man of 
 fashion. 
 
 Max. So a man must, therefore, lose his wife and his 
 money with a smile — in fact, everything he possesses but his 
 temper. 
 
 Sir H. (rising). Exactly ; and greet ruin with vive la 
 bagatelle / For example : your modish beauty never discom- 
 poses the shape of her features with convulsive laughter. A 
 smile rewards the bon mot, and also shows the whiteness of her 
 teeth. She never weeps impromptu — tears might destroy the 
 economy of her cheek. Scenes are vulgar, hysterics obsolete ; 
 she exhibits a calm, placid, impenetrable lake {both rise) f 
 whose surface is reflection, but of unfathomable depth — a 
 statue, whose life is hypothetical, and not a prima facie fact. 
 
 (Crosses to l.) 
 
 Max (r.). Well, give me the girl that will fly at your eyes 
 in an argument, and stick to her point like a fox to his own 
 tail. 
 
 Sir H. But etiquette, Max ! remember etiquette ! 
 
 Max (rising). Damn etiquette ! I have seen a man who 
 thought it sacrilege to eat fish with a knife, that would not 
 scruple to rise up and rob his brother of his birthright in a 
 gambling-house. Your thoroughbred, well-blooded heart will 
 seldom kick over the traces of good feeling. That's my 
 opinion, and I don't care who knows it. 
 
 Sir H. Pardon me — etiquette is the pulse of society, by 
 regulating which the body politic is retained in health. I con- 
 sider myself one of the faculty in the art. 
 
 Max. Well, well; you are a living libel upon common 
 sense, for you are old enough to know better. 
 
 Sir H. Old enough ! What do you mean ? Old ! I still 
 retain all my little juvenile indiscretions, which your niece's 
 beauties must teach me to discard. I have not sown my wild 
 oats yet. 
 
 Max. Time you did, at sixty-three. 
 
 Sir H. Sixty-three ! Good heavens ! — forty, 'pon my life 
 forty, next March. 
 
 Max. Why, you are older than I am. 
 
14 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Sir H. Oh ! you are old enough to be my father. 
 
 Max. Well, if I am, I am; that's etiquette, I suppose. 
 Poor Grace ! how often have I pitied her fate ! That a young 
 and beautiful creature should be driven into wretched splendor, 
 or miserable poverty ! 
 
 Sir H. Wretched ! wherefore? Lady Courtly wretched ! 
 Impossible. 
 
 Max. Will she not be compelled to marry you, whether 
 she likes you or not ? — a choice between you and poverty. 
 {Aside.) And hang me if it isn't a tie ! But why do you not 
 introduce your son Charles to me ? I have not seen him since 
 he was a child. You would never permit him to accept any 
 of my invitations to spend his vacation at Oak Hall — of course, 
 we shall have the pleasure of his company now. 
 
 Sir H. He is not fit to enter society yet. He is a studious, 
 sober boy. 
 
 Max. Boy ! Why, he's five and twenty. 
 
 Sir H. Good gracious ! Max — you will permit me to know 
 my own son's age — he is not twenty. 
 
 Max. I'm dumb. 
 
 Sir H. (calling). Cool ! You will excuse me while I in- 
 dulge in the process of dressing. (Enter Cool, c, from R.) 
 Prepare my toilet. (Exit Cool, c.) That is a ceremony 
 which, with me, supersedes all others. I consider it a duty 
 which every gentleman owes to society, to render himself as 
 agreeable an object as possible; and the least compliment a 
 mortal can pay to nature, when she honors him by bestowing 
 extra care in the manufacture of his person, is to display her 
 taste to the best possible advantage ; and so, au revoir. 
 
 Exit, c. to l. 
 
 Max {crossing to l.). That's a good soul — he has his 
 faults, and who has not ? Forty years of age ! Oh, mon- 
 strous ! — but he does look uncommonly young for sixty, spite 
 of his foreign locks and complexion. 
 
 Enter Daz., r. 2 e. 
 
 Daz. (r.). Who's my friend with the stick and gaiters, I 
 wonder — one of the family — the governor, maybe ? 
 
 Max (l.). Who's this? Oh, Charles — is that you, my 
 boy? How are you? {Aside.) This is the boy. 
 
 Daz. He knows me — he is too respectable for a bailiff. 
 {Aloud.) How are you ? 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 1 5 
 
 Max. Your father has just left me. 
 
 Daz. (aside). The devil he has ! He has been dead these 
 ten years. Oh ! I see, he thinks I'm young Courtly. (Aloud.) 
 The honor you would confer upon me, I must unwillingly dis- 
 claim — I am not Mr. Courtly. 
 
 Max. I beg pardon — a friend, I suppose ? 
 
 Daz. Oh, a most intimate friend — a friend of years — dis- 
 tantly related to the family — one of my ancestors married one 
 of his. (Aside.) Adam and Eve, — long way back. 
 
 Max. Are you on a visit here ? 
 
 Daz. Yes; oh! yes. (Aside.) Rather a short one, I'm 
 afraid. 
 
 Max (aside). This appears a dashing kind of fellow — as he 
 is a friend of Sir Harcourt's, I'll invite him to the wedding. 
 (Aloud.) Sir, if you are not otherwise engaged, I shall feel 
 honored by your company at my house, Oak Hall, Gloucester- 
 shire. 
 
 Daz. Your name is 
 
 Max. Harkaway — Max Harkaway. 
 
 Daz. Harkaway — let me see — I ought to be related to the 
 Harkaways, somehow. 
 
 Max. A wedding is about to come off — will you take a part 
 on the occasion ? 
 
 Daz. With pleasure ! any part but that of the husband. 
 
 Max. Have you any previous engagement ? 
 
 Daz. I was thinking — eh? why, let me see. (Aside.) 
 Promised to meet my tailor and his account to-morrow ; how- 
 ever, I'll postpone that. (Aloud.) Have you good shooting? 
 
 Max. Shooting ! Why, there's no shooting at this time 
 of the year. 
 
 Daz. Oh ! I'm in no hurry — I can wait till the season, of 
 course. I was only speaking precautionally — you have good 
 shooting ? 
 
 Max. The best in the country. 
 
 Daz. Make yourself comfortable ! — Say no more — I'm your 
 man — wait till you see how I'll murder your preserves. 
 
 Max. Do you hunt ? 
 
 Daz. Pardon me — but will you repeat that ? 
 
 READY knock L. 
 
 Max. Do you hunt ? 
 
 Daz. Hunt ! (Aside.) Delicious and expensive idea ! 
 
 Max. You ride ? 
 
16 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Daz. Anything ! Everything ! From a blood to a broom- 
 stick. Only catch me a flash of lightning, and let me get on 
 the back of it, and dam'me if I wouldn't astonish the elements. 
 
 Max. Ha! ha! 
 
 Daz. I'd put a girdle round about the earth in very con- 
 siderably less than forty minutes. 
 
 Max. Ah ! ha ! We'll show old Fiddlestrings how to 
 spend the day. He imagines that Nature, at the earnest re- 
 quest of Fashion, made summer days long for him to saunter 
 in the Park, and winter nights that he might have good time to 
 get cleared out at hazard or at whist. Give me the yelping of 
 a pack of hounds before the shuffling of a pack of cards. 
 What state can match the chase in full cry, each vying with 
 his fellows which shall be most happy ? A thousand deaths 
 fly by unheeded in that one hour's life of ecstasy. Time is 
 outrun, and Nature seems to grudge our bliss by making the 
 day so short. 
 
 Daz. No, for then rises up the idol of my great adoration. 
 
 Max. Who's that ? 
 
 Daz. The bottle — that lends a lustre to the soul ! — When 
 the world puts on its nightcap, and extinguishes the sun — 
 then comes the bottle ! Oh, mighty wine ! don't ask me to 
 apostrophize. Wine and love are the only two indescribable 
 things in nature; but I prefer the wine, because its conse- 
 quences are not entailed, and are more easily got rid of. 
 
 Max. How so ? 
 
 Daz. Love ends in matrimony, wine in soda water. 
 
 Max. Well, I can promise you as fine a bottle as ever was 
 cracked. 
 
 Daz. Never mind the bottle, give me the wine. Say no 
 more ; but, when I arrive, just shake one of my hands, and put 
 the key of the cellar into the other, and if I don't make myself 
 intimately acquainted with its internal organization — well, I say 
 nothing — time will show. 
 
 Max. I foresee some happy days. 
 
 Daz. And I some glorious nights. 
 
 Max. It mustn't be a flying visit. 
 
 Daz. I despise the word — I'll stop a month with you. 
 
 Max. Or a year or two. 
 
 Daz. I'll live and die with you. 
 
 Max. Ha ! ha ! Remember Max 
 
 Daz. Harkaway. 
 
 Max. Oak Hall 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE I? 
 
 Daz. Gloucestershire. I'll remember — fare ye well. (Max 
 is going. ) Say, holloa ! — Tallyho-o-o-o ! 
 
 Max {turning back up stage). Yoicks! — Tallyho-o-o-o! — 
 
 Exit, L. 2 E. 
 
 Daz. There I am — quartered for a couple of years, at the 
 least. The old boy wants somebody to ride his horses, shoot 
 his game, and keep a restraint on the morals of the parish : 
 I'm eligible. What a lucky accident to meet Young Courtly 
 last night ! Who could have thought it ? Yesterday, I could 
 not make certain of a dinner, except at my own proper peril ; 
 to-day I would flirt with a banquet. 
 
 Enter Young C, r. 2 e. 
 
 Young C. (r.). What infernal row was that ? Why, (seeing 
 Daz.) are you here still? 
 
 Daz. (l.). Yes. Ain't you delighted? I'll ring, and 
 send the servant for my luggage. 
 
 Young C. The devil you will ! Why, you don't mean to 
 say you seriously intend to take up a permanent residence here ? 
 
 (Rings the bell on table.) 
 
 Daz. Now, that's a most inhospitable insinuation. 
 Young C. Might I ask your name ? 
 
 Daz. With a deal of pleasure — Richard Dazzle, late of the 
 Unattached Volunteers, vulgarly entitled the Dirty Buffs. 
 
 Enter Mar., l. 2 e. 
 
 Young C. Then, Mr. Richard Dazzle, I have the honor of 
 wishing you a very good-morning. Martin, show this gentle- 
 man the door. 
 
 Daz. If he does, I'll kick Martin out of it. No offense. 
 
 Exit Mar., l. 
 
 READY Martin and Isaacs 
 for noise outside* 
 
 Now, sir, permit me to place a dioramic view of your conduct 
 before you. After bringing you safely home this morning — 
 after indulgently waiting, whenever you took a passing fancy to 
 a knocker or bell-pull — after conducting a retreat that would 
 have reflected honor on Napoleon — you would kick me into the 
 
1 8 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 street, like a mangy cur ; and that's what you call gratitude. 
 Now, to show you how superior I am to petty malice, I give 
 you an unlimited invitation to my house — my country house — 
 to remain as long as you please. 
 
 Young C. Your house ! 
 
 Daz. Oak Hall, Gloucestershire— fine old place ! — for 
 further particulars see road book — that is, it nominally belongs 
 to my old friend and relation, Max Hark away ; but I'm 
 privileged. Capital old fellow — say, shall we be honored? 
 
 Young C. Sir, permit me to hesitate a moment. {Aside.) 
 Let me see ; I go back to college to-morrow, so I shall not be 
 missing ; tradesmen begin to dun 
 
 KNOCK at hall door, L2E, 
 followed by noisy argu- 
 ment outside* 
 
 I hear thunder ; here is shelter ready for me. 
 
 Enter Cool, l. 2 e. ; drops down l. 
 
 Cool. Oh, Mr. Charles, Mr. Solomon Isaacs is in the hall, 
 and swears he will remain till he has arrested you ! 
 
 Young C. Does he? — sorry he is so obstinate — take him 
 my compliments, and I will bet him five to one he will not. 
 
 Daz. Double or quits, with my kind regards. 
 
 Cool. But, sir, he has discovered the house in Curzon 
 Street ; he says he is aware the furniture at least belongs to 
 you, and he will put a man in immediately. 
 
 Young C. That's awkward — what's to be done? 
 
 Daz. Ask him whether he couldn't make it a woman. 
 
 Young C. I must trust that to fate. 
 
 Daz. I will give you my acceptance, if it will be of any 
 use to you — it is of none to me. 
 
 Young C. No, sir ; but in reply to your most generous and 
 kind invitation, if you be in earnest, I shall feel delighted to 
 accept it. 
 
 Daz. Certainly. 
 
 Young C. Then off we go — through the stables — down the 
 Mews, and so slip through my friend's fingers. 
 
 Daz. But, stay, you must do the polite; say farewell to 
 him before you part. Damn it, don't cut him ! x 
 
 Young C. You jest ! 
 
 Daz. Here, lend me a card. (Young C. gives him one.) 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 19 
 
 Loan me your pencil. (Young C. gives it to him. He turns 
 Cool about, and, using his back for a desk, writes. ) ' ' Our 
 respects to Mr. Isaacs — sorry to have been prevented from 
 seeing him." Ha! ha ! 
 
 READY curtain. 
 
 Young C. Ha ! ha ! (Daz. puts pencil in his pocket.) 
 I beg your pardon, that's my pencil. 
 
 Daz. Excuse me. {Returns pencil to Young C.) We'll 
 send him up some game. 
 
 Young C. Yes, we'll send him a couple of rabbits. 
 
 Daz. Yes, we'll send him a couple of rats. 
 
 Young C. (to Cool). Don't let my father see him. 
 
 Exeunt Young C. and Daz., r. 2 e. 
 
 RING curtain. 
 
 Cool. What's this? "Mr. Charles Courtly, P. P. C, re- 
 turns thanks for obliging inquiries." 
 
 Exit, L. 2 E. 
 SLOW CURTAIN 
 
 ACT II 
 
 Scene. — The lawn before Oak Hall, a fine Elizabethan man- 
 sion, which is seen at L. of stage. Statues, urns and 
 garden chairs about the stage. Garden seat, R. C. 
 
 Enter Pert, from house, l., to James Simpson, who is 
 discovered. 
 
 Pert. James, Miss Grace desires me to request that you 
 will watch at the avenue and let her know when the squire's 
 carriage is seen on the London road. 
 
 James. I will go to the lodge. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
20 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Pert. How I do long to see what kind of a man Sir Har- 
 court Courtly is ! They say he is sixty ; so he must be old, 
 and consequently ugly. If I were Miss Grace, I would rather 
 give up all my fortune and marry the man I liked than go to 
 church with a stuffed eel skin. But taste is everything — she 
 doesn't seem to care whether he is sixty or sixteen; jokes at 
 love ; prepares for matrimony as she would for dinner ; says it 
 is a necessary evil, and what can't be cured must be endured. 
 Now, I say this is against all nature ; and she is either no woman, 
 or a deeper one than I am, if she prefers an old man to a young 
 one. Here she comes ! looking as cheerfully as if she was 
 going to marry Mr. Jenks ! My Mr. Jenks ! whom nobody 
 won't lead to the halter till I have that honor. 
 
 Enter Grace Harkaway, from house, l. 
 
 Grace (r.). Well, Pert ! any signs of the squire yet? 
 
 Pert (l.). No, Miss Grace; but James has gone to watch 
 the road. 
 
 Grace. In my uncle's letter he mentions a Mr. Dazzle, 
 whom he has invited ; so you must prepare a room for him. 
 He is some friend of my husband that is to be, and my uncle 
 seems to have taken an extraordinary predilection for him. 
 Apropos ! I must not forget to have a bouquet for the dear old 
 man when he arrives. 
 
 Pert. The dear old man ! Do you mean Sir Harcourt ? 
 
 Grace. La, no ! my uncle, of course. {Plucks flowers.) 
 What do I care for Sir Harcourt Courtly? {Crosses c.) 
 
 Pert (l.). Isn't it odd, miss, you have never seen your in- 
 tended, though it has been so long since you were betrothed ? 
 
 Grace. Not at all ; marriage matters are conducted nowa- 
 days in a most mercantile manner ; consequently, a previous 
 acquaintance is by no means indispensable. Besides, my pre- 
 scribed husband has been upon the continent for the benefit of 
 his — property ! They say a southern climate is a great restorer 
 of consumptive estates. 
 
 Pert. Well, miss, for my own part, I should like to have a 
 good look at my bargain before I paid for it ; 'specially when 
 one's life is the price of the article. But why, ma'am, do you 
 consent to marry in this blind-man's-buff sort of manner? 
 What would you think if he were not quite so old ? 
 
 Grace. I should think he was a little younger. 
 
 Pert. I should like him all the better. 
 
 Grace. That wouldn't I. A young husband might expect 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 21 
 
 affection and nonsense, which 'twould be deceit in me to 
 render; nor would he permit me to remain with my uncle. 
 Sir Harcourt takes me with the incumbrances on his estate, and 
 I shall beg to be left among the rest of the live stock. 
 
 {Crosses L.) 
 
 Pert (r.). Ah, miss ! but some day you might chance to 
 stumble over the man — what could you do then ? 
 
 Grace. Do ! beg the man's pardon, and request the man 
 to pick me up again. 
 
 Pert. Ah ! you were never in love, miss. 
 
 Grace. I never was, nor will be, till I am tired of myself 
 and common sense. Love is a pleasant scapegoat for a little 
 epidemic madness. I must have been inoculated in my in- 
 fancy, for the infection passes over poor me in contempt. 
 
 Enter James, l. i e. 
 
 James. Two gentlemen, Miss Grace, have just alighted. 
 
 Grace. Very well, James. (Exit James, l. i e.) Love 
 is pictured as a boy; in another century they will be wiser, and 
 paint him as a fool, with cap and bells, without a thought above 
 the jingling of his own folly. Now, Pert, remember this as a 
 maxim — A woman is always in love with one of two things. 
 
 Pert. What are they, miss ? 
 
 Grace. A man, or herself — and I know which is the most 
 profitable. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
 Pert. I wonder what my Jenks would say, if I was to ask 
 him. La ! here comes Mr. Meddle, his rival, contemporary 
 solicitor, as he calls him — a nasty, prying, ugly wretch — what 
 brings him here ? He comes puffed with some news. 
 
 (Retires up r.) 
 
 Enter Mark Meddle, with a newspaper, l. i e. 
 
 Med. I have secured the only newspaper in the village — my 
 character, as an attorney-at-law, depended on the monopoly of 
 its information. I took it up by chance, when this paragraph 
 met my astonished view : {Reads.) " We understand that the 
 contract of marriage so long in abeyance on account of the 
 lady's minority, is about to be celebrated at Oak Hall, Glouces- 
 
22 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 tershire, the well-known and magnificent mansion of Maximilian 
 Harkaway, Esq., between Sir Harcourt Courtly, baronet, of 
 fashionable celebrity, and Miss Grace Harkaway, niece to the 
 said Mr. Harkaway. The preparations are proceeding in the 
 good old English style." (To c.) Is it possible ! I seldom 
 swear, except in a witness box, but, dam' me, had it been known 
 in the village, my reputation would have been lost; my voice 
 in the parlor of the Red Lion mute, and Jenks, a fellow who 
 calls himself a lawyer, without more capability than a broom- 
 stick, and as much impudence as a young barrister after getting 
 a verdict by mistake, why, he would actually have taken the 
 Reverend Mr. Spout by the button, which is now my sole 
 privilege. (Sees Pert.) Ah ! here is Mrs. Pert; couldn't 
 have hit upon a better person. I'll cross-examine her — lady's 
 maid to Miss Grace — confidential purloiner of second-hand 
 silk — a nisi prius of her mistress — ah ! sits on the woolsack in 
 the pantry, and dictates the laws of kitchen etiquette. (Pert 
 comes down L.) Ah! Mrs. Pert, good-morning; permit me 
 to say — and my word as a legal character is not unduly con- 
 sidered — I venture to affirm that you look a — quite like the — 
 a 
 
 Pert (l.). Law! Mr. Meddle. 
 
 Med. (r.). Exactly, like the law. 
 
 Pert. Ha ! indeed ; complimentary, I confess ; like the 
 law ; tedious, prosy, made up of musty paper. You sha'n't 
 have a long suit of me. Good-morning. (Going.) 
 
 Med. Stay, Mrs. Pert; don't calumniate my calling, or 
 disseminate vulgar prejudices. 
 
 Pert. Vulgar ! you talk of vulgarity to me ! you, whose 
 sole employment is to sneak about like a pig, snouting out the 
 dust-hole of society, and feeding upon the bad ends of vice ! 
 you, who live upon the world's iniquity ; you miserable speci- 
 men of a bad six-and-eightpence ! 
 
 (Follows him around to R.) 
 Med. (r.). But, Mrs. Pert 
 
 Pert (r. a). Don't but me, sir; I won't be butted by 
 any such low fellow. 
 
 Med. This is slander ; an action will lie. 
 
 Pert. Let it lie; lying is your trade. I'll tell you what, 
 Mr. Meddle ; if I had my will, I would soon put a check on 
 your prying propensities. I'd treat you as the farmers do in- 
 quisitive hogs. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 2$ 
 
 Med. How ? 
 
 Pert. I would (w)ring your nose. 
 
 Exit into house, l. 
 
 Med. Not much information elicited from that witness. 
 Jenks is at the bottom of this. I have very little hesitation in 
 saying, Jenks is a libellous rascal ; I heard reports that he was 
 undermining my character here, through Mrs. Pert. Now I'm 
 certain of it. Assault is expensive ; but I certainly will put by 
 a small weekly stipendium, until I can afford to kick Jenks. 
 
 Daz. (outside). Come along ; this way ! 
 
 Med. Ah ! whom have we here ? Visitors ; I'll address 
 them. 
 
 Enter Daz., l. i e. 
 
 Daz. (l.). Who's this, I wonder; one of the family? I 
 must know him. (To Med.) Ah! how are ye? 
 
 Med. (r.). Quite well. Just arrived? — ah! — um ! Might 
 I request the honor of knowing whom I address ? 
 
 Daz. Richard Dazzle, Esquire ; and you 
 
 Med. Mark Meddle, attorney- at-law. 
 
 Enter Young C, l. i e. 
 
 Daz. What detained you ? 
 
 Young C. My dear fellow, I have just seen such a 
 woman ■ 
 
 Daz. (aside). Hush ! (Aloud.) Permit me to introduce 
 you to my very old friend, Meddle. He's a capital fellow ; 
 know him. 
 
 Med. (r.). I feel honored. Who is your friend ? 
 
 Daz. (a). Oh, he? What, my friend? Oh! Augustus 
 Hamilton. 
 
 Young C. (l.). How d'ye do ? (Looks off l.) There 
 she is again ! 
 
 Med. (looking off l.). Why, that is Miss Grace. 
 
 Daz. (l. a). Of course, Grace. 
 
 Young C. (c.). I'll go and introduce myself. 
 
 (Daz. stops him.) 
 
 Daz. (aside). What are you about? Would you insult 
 my old friend Puddle by running away? (Aloud.) I say, 
 Puddle, just show my friend the lions, while I say how d'ye do 
 
24 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 to my young friend Grace. {Aside.) Cultivate his acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 Exit, l. i e. Young C. looks after him. 
 
 Med. Mr. Hamilton, might I take the liberty ? 
 
 Young C. {looking off). Confound the fellow ! 
 
 Med. Sir, what did you remark ? 
 
 Young C. She's gone ! Oh, are you here still, Mr. Thingo- 
 merry Puddle ? 
 
 Med. Meddle, sir, Meddle, in the list of attorneys. 
 
 Young C. Well, Muddle or Puddle, or whoever you are, 
 you are a bore. 
 
 Med. {aside). How excessively odd ! Mrs. Pert said I 
 was a pig; now I'm a boar ! They're going the whole hog. 
 
 Young C. (l.). Mr. Thingamy, will you take a word of 
 advice ? 
 
 Med. (r.). Feel honored. 
 
 Young C. Get out. 
 
 Med. Do you mean to — I don't understand. 
 
 Young C. Delighted to quicken your apprehension. You 
 are an ass, Puddle. 
 
 Med. Ha ! ha ! another quadruped ! I wonder what they'll 
 make of me next? Yes; beautiful. {Aside.) I wish he'd 
 call me something libellous ; but that would be too much to 
 expect. {Aloud.) Anything else ? 
 
 Young C. Some miserable pettifogging scoundrel ! 
 
 Med. Good! ha! ha! 
 
 Young C. What do you mean by laughing at me ? 
 
 Med. Ha ! ha ! ha ! excellent ! delicious ! 
 
 Young C. Mr. , are you ambitious of a kicking ? 
 
 Med. {parting his coat-tails and backing conveniently toward 
 him). Very, very — go on — kick — go on. 
 
 Young C. {looking off). Here she comes ! I'll speak to 
 her. 
 
 Med. But, sir — sir 
 
 Young C. Oh, go to the devil ! (Runs off, l. i e.) 
 
 Med. There, there's a chance lost — gone ! I have no hesi- 
 tation in saying, and I say it boldly, that, in another minute, I 
 should have been kicked ; literally kicked — a legal luxury. 
 Costs, damages, and actions rose up like sky-rockets in my 
 aspiring soul, with golden tails reaching to the infinity of my 
 hopes. {Looks.) They are coming this way ; Mr. Hamilton 
 in close conversation with Lady Courtly that is to be. Crim. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 25 
 
 Con. Courtly versus Hamilton — damages problematical — 
 Meddle, chief witness for plaintiff — guinea a day — professional 
 man ! I'll take down their conversation verbatim. 
 
 {Retires behind a bush, r., up stage.) 
 Enter Grace, followed by Young C, l. i e. 
 
 Grace (r.). Perhaps you would follow your friend into the 
 dining-room; refreshment, after your long journey, must be 
 requisite. 
 
 Young C. (l.). Pardon me, madam; but the lovely garden 
 and the loveliness before me, is better refreshment than I could 
 procure in any dining-room. 
 
 Grace. Ha ! Your company and compliments arrive to- 
 gether. 
 
 Young C. I trust that a passing remark will not spoil so 
 welcome an introduction as this by offending you. 
 
 Grace. I am not certain that anything you could say 
 would offend me. 
 
 Young C. I never meant 
 
 Grace. I thought not. In turn, pardon me, when I re- 
 quest you will commence your visit with this piece of infor- 
 mation — I consider compliments impertinent, and sweetmeat 
 language fulsome. 
 
 Young C. I would condemn my tongue to a Pythagorean 
 silence, if I thought it could attempt to flatter. 
 
 Grace. It strikes me, sir, that you are a stray bee from the 
 hive of fashion ; if so, reserve your honey for its proper cell. 
 A truce to compliments. — You have just arrived from town, 
 I apprehend. (Sits on garden seat.) 
 
 Young C. This moment I left mighty London, under the 
 fever of a full season, groaning with the noisy pulse of wealth 
 and the giddy whirling brain of fashion. Enchanting, busy 
 London ! how have I prevailed on myself to desert you ! Next 
 week the new ballet comes out — the week after comes Ascot. 
 Oh! 
 
 Grace. How agonizing must be the reflection ! 
 
 Young C. Torture ! Can you inform me how you manage 
 to avoid suicide here ? If there was but an opera, even, within 
 twenty miles ! We couldn't get up a rustic ballet among the 
 village girls ? No ? — ah ! 
 
 Grace. I am afraid you would find that difficult. How I 
 contrive to support life I don't know — it is wonderful — but I 
 
26 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 have not precisely contemplated suicide yet, nor do I miss the 
 opera. 
 
 Young C. How can you manage to kill time ? 
 
 Grace. I can't. Men talk of killing time, while time 
 quietly kills them. I have many employments — this week I 
 devote to study and various amusements — next week to being 
 married — the following week to repentance, perhaps. 
 
 Young C. Married ! 
 
 Grace. You seem surprised; I believe it is of frequent 
 occurrence in the metropolis — is it not ? 
 
 Young C. Might I ask to whom ? 
 
 Grace. A gentleman who has been strongly recommended 
 to me for the situation of husband. 
 
 Young C. What an extraordinary match ! You seem to 
 laugh at love. 
 
 Grace (rising). Love ! why, the very word is a breathing 
 satire upon man's reason — a mania, indigenous to humanity — 
 nature's jester, who plays off tricks upon the world, and trips 
 up common sense. When I'm in love, I'll write an almanac, 
 for very lack of wit — prognosticate the sighing season — when 
 to beware of tears — about this time expect matrimony to be 
 prevalent ! Ha ! ha ! Why should I lay out my life in love's 
 bonds upon the bare security of a man's word ? 
 
 Enter James, l. i e. 
 
 James. The squire, madam, has just arrived, and another 
 gentleman with him. 
 
 Exit James, l. 
 
 Grace (a, aside). My intended, I suppose. 
 
 (Crosses to L.) 
 
 Young C. (r.). I perceive you are one of the railers against 
 what is termed the follies of high life. 
 
 Grace. No, not particularly; I deprecate all folly. By 
 what prerogative can the west-end mint issue absurdity, which, 
 if coined in the east, would be voted vulgar ? 
 
 Young C. By a sovereign right — because it has Fashion's 
 head upon its side, and that stamps it current. 
 
 Grace. Poor Fashion, for how many sins hast thou to 
 answer ! 
 
 Young C. Pardon me, madam, you wrong yourself to rail 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 2? 
 
 against your own inheritance — the kingdom to which loveli- 
 ness and wit attest your title. 
 
 Grace. A mighty realm, forsooth — with milliners for min- 
 isters, a cabinet of coxcombs, envy for my homage, ruin for 
 my revenue — my right of rule depending on the shape of a 
 bonnet or the set of a pelisse, with the next grand noodle as 
 my heir-apparent. Mr. Hamilton, when I am crowned, I shall 
 feel happy to abdicate in your favor. 
 
 Curtsey and exit into house, l. 
 
 Young C. (Jo l.). What did she mean by that? Hang me 
 if I can understand her — she is evidently not used to society. 
 Ha ! — takes every word I say for infallible truth — requires the 
 solution of a compliment, as if it were a problem in Euclid. 
 She said she was about to marry, but I rather imagine she was 
 in jest. Ton my life, I feel very queer at the contemplation 
 of such an idea — I'll follow her. (Med. comes down, r.) Oh ! 
 perhaps this booby can inform me something about her. (Med. 
 makes signs at him.) What the devil is he at ? 
 
 Med. It won't do — no — ah ! um — it's not to be done. 
 
 Younc C. (l.). What do you mean ? 
 
 Med. {pointing after Grace). Counsel retained — cause to 
 come off. 
 
 Young C. Cause to come off ! 
 
 Med. Miss Grace is about to be married. 
 
 Young C. Is it possible ? 
 
 Med. Certainly. If I had the drawing out of the deeds 
 
 Young C. To whom? 
 
 Med. Ha ! hem ! Oh, yes ! I dare say — information 
 being scarce in the market, I hope to make mine valuable. 
 
 Young C. Married ! married ! {Paces the stage.) 
 
 Med. Now I shall have another chance. 
 
 {Turns his back toward Young C. and lifts his coat-tails to 
 have him kick him.) 
 
 Young C. I'll run and ascertain the truth of this from 
 Dazzle. 
 
 Exit L., into house. 
 
 Med. It's of no use ; he either dare not kick me, or he 
 can't afford it — in either case, he is beneath my notice. Ah ! 
 who comes here? — can it be Sir Harcourt Courtly himself ? 
 
28 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 It can be no other. (Enter Cool, l. i e.) Sir, I have the 
 honor to bid you welcome to Oak Hall and the village of 
 Oldborough. 
 
 Cool (aside). Excessively polite. (Aloud.) Sir, thank 
 you. 
 
 Med. The township contains two thousand inhabitants. 
 
 Cool. Does it? I am delighted to hear it. (Crosses R.) 
 
 Med. (to L., aside). I can charge him for that — ahem — 
 six and eightpence is not much — but it is a beginning. (Aloud.) 
 If you will permit me, I can inform you of the different com- 
 modities for which it is famous. 
 
 Cool. Much obliged — but here comes Sir Harcourt 
 Courtly, my master, and Mr. Harkaway — any other time I 
 shall feel delighted. 
 
 Med. Oh ! (Aside.) Mistook the man for the master. 
 
 (Retires up R.) 
 
 Enter Max and Sir H., l. i e. 
 
 Max (a). Here we are at last. Now give ye welcome to 
 Oak Hall, Sir Harcourt, heartily ! 
 
 Sir H. (l. c, languidly). Cool, assist me. 
 
 (Cool takes off his cloak and gloves ; gives him white gloves 
 and handkerchief, then places a flower in his coat. Gees l.) 
 
 Max. Why, you require unpacking as carefully as my best 
 bin of port. Well, now you are decanted, tell me what did 
 you think of my park as we came along? 
 
 Sir H. (a). That it would never come to an end. You 
 said it was only a stone's throw from your infernal lodge to the 
 house ; why, it's ten miles at least. 
 
 Max (r.). I'll do it in ten minutes any day. 
 
 Sir H. Yes, in a steam carriage. Cool, perfume my hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 Max. Don't do it. Don't ! perfume in the country ! why, 
 it's high treason in the very face of Nature; 'tis introducing 
 the robbed to the robber. Here are the sweets from which 
 your fulsome essences are pilfered, and libelled with their 
 names ; don't insult them, too. (Med. comes down, c.) 
 
 Sir H. (to Med.). Oh ! cull me a bouquet, my man ! 
 
 Max (turning). Ah, Meddle! how are you? This is 
 Lawyer Meddle. (Goes up, r. ; Cool, up l.) 
 
 Sir H. Oh ! I took him for one of your people. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 29 
 
 Med. (r. a). Ah ! naturally — um — Sir Harcourt Courtly, 
 I have the honor to congratulate — happy occasion approaches. 
 Ahem ! I have no hesitation in saying this very happy occasion 
 approaches. 
 
 Sir H. Cool, is the conversation addressed toward me ? 
 
 Cool (l.). I believe so, Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Exit into house and returns immediately having left Sir H.'s 
 
 coat. 
 
 Med. (a). Oh, certainly ! I was complimenting you. 
 
 Sir H. Sir, you are very good ; the honor is undeserved ; 
 but I am only in the habit of receiving compliments from the 
 fair sex. Men's admiration is so damnably insipid. 
 
 (Crosses to Max who is seated on bench, r.) 
 
 Med. I had hoped to make a unit on that occasion. 
 
 Sir H. Yes, and you hoped to put an infernal number of 
 cyphers after your unit on that and any other occasion. 
 
 Med. Ha ! ha ! very good. Why, I did hope to have the 
 honor of drawing out the deeds ; for, whatever Jenks may say 
 to the contrary, I have no hesitation in saying 
 
 Sir H. (putting him aside, to Max). If the future Lady 
 Courtly be visible at so unfashionable an hour as this, I shall 
 beg to be introduced. 
 
 Max. Visible ! Ever since six this morning, I'll warrant 
 ye. Two to one she is at dinner. 
 
 Sir H. Dinner ! Is it possible ? Lady Courtly dine at 
 half- past one p. m. ? 
 
 Med. (down l.). I rather prefer that hour to peck a little 
 my 
 
 Sir H. Dear me ! who was addressing you ? 
 
 Med. Oh ! I beg pardon. 
 
 Max (to r.). Here, James! (Calls. Enter James, l. 
 ie.) Tell Miss Grace to come here directly. (Exit James, 
 into house, l.) Now prepare, Courtly, for, though I say it, she 
 is — with the exception of my bay mare, Kitty — the handsomest 
 thing in the county. Considering she is a biped, she is a 
 wonder ! Full of blood, sound wind and limb, plenty of bone, 
 sweet coat, in fine condition, with a thoroughbred step, as 
 dainty as a pet greyhound. 
 
 Sir H. (r. a). Dam'me, don't compare her to a horse ! 
 
 Max. Well, I wouldn't, but she's almost as fine a creature 
 — close similarities. 
 
30 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Med. (l. a). Oh, very fine creature ! Close similarity, 
 amounting to identity. 
 
 Sir H. Good gracious, sir ! What can a lawyer know 
 about women ? 
 
 Med. Everything. The consistorial court is a fine study 
 of the character, and I have no hesitation in saying, and I say it 
 boldly, that I have examined more women than Jenks, or 
 
 Sir H. Oh, damn Jenks ! 
 
 Med. Sir, thank you. Damn him again, sir, damn him 
 again! (Up r.) 
 
 Enter Grace, from house, l. 
 
 Grace (l. c, running to hint). My dear uncle ! 
 
 Max. Ah, Grace, you little jade, come here. 
 
 Sir H. (r. c, eyeing her through his glass). Oh, dear! 
 she is a rural Venus ! I'm astonished and delighted. 
 
 Max. Won't you kiss your old uncle? (Kisses her.) 
 
 Sir H. (drawing an agonizing face). Oh ! — ah — um ! — 
 N'importe! — my privilege in embryo — hem! It's very tan- 
 talizing, though. 
 
 Max. You are not glad to see me, you are not. 
 
 (Kisses her again.) 
 
 Sir H. Oh; no, no! (Aside.) That is too much. I 
 shall do something horrible presently if this goes on. (Aloud.) 
 I should be sorry to curtail any little ebullition of affection ; 
 but — ahem ! May I be permitted ? 
 
 Max. Of course you may. There, Grace, is Sir Harcourt, 
 your husband that will be. Go to him, girl. (She curtsies.) 
 
 Sir H. Permit me to do homage to the charms, the pres 
 ence of which have placed me in sight of paradise. 
 
 (Sir H. and Grace retire.) 
 
 Enter Daz., l., and crosses to Max, r. 
 
 Daz. Ah ! old fellow, how are you ? 
 
 (Med. thinks that Daz. is speaking to him, and steps in be- 
 tween Daz. and Max to shake hands. Daz. pays no at- 
 tention to him, but pushes by and shakes Max by the 
 hand.) 
 
 Max (r. a). I'm glad to see you. Are you comfortably 
 quartered yet, eh ? 
 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 3 1 
 
 Daz. Splendidly quartered ! What a place you've got 
 here! Here, Hamilton. (Enter Young C, from house. 
 Daz. crosses to him and brings him down r.) Permit me to 
 introduce my friend, Augustus Hamilton. Capital fellow ! 
 drinks like a sieve, and rides like a thunder-storm. 
 
 Max (r. a). Sir, I'm devilish glad to see you. Here, Sir 
 Harcourt, permit me to introduce to you 
 
 (Goes up to Sir H.) 
 
 Young C. (r.). The devil ! 
 
 Daz. (r. c, aside). What's the matter? 
 
 Young C. {aside). Why, that is my governor, by Jupiter ! 
 
 Daz. (aside). What, old Whiskers ! you don't say that? 
 
 Young C. (aside). It is; what's to be done now ? 
 
 Max (advancing, a). Mr. Hamilton, Sir Harcourt Courtly 
 — Sir Harcourt Courtly, Mr. Hamilton. 
 
 Sir H. (advancing, l. a). Hamilton ! Good gracious ! 
 Bless me ! Why, Charles, is it possible ? — why, Max, that's 
 my son ! 
 
 Young C. (aside). What shall I do ? 
 
 Max. Your son ? 
 
 Grace. Your son, Sir Harcourt ! have you a son as old as 
 that gentleman ? 
 
 Sir H. No — that is — a — yes, — not by twenty years — a — 
 Charles, why don't you answer me, sir ? 
 
 Young C. (aside to Daz.). What shall I say? 
 
 Daz. (aside). Deny your identity. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Capital ! (Aloud.) What's the mat- 
 ter, sir? 
 
 Sir H. How came you down here, sir ? 
 
 Young C. By one of Newman's best fours — in twelve hours 
 and a quarter. 
 
 Sir H. Isn't your name Charles Courtly? 
 
 Young C. Not to my knowledge. 
 
 Sir H. Do you mean to say that you are usually called 
 Augustus Hamilton ? 
 
 Young C. Lamentable fact — and quite correct. 
 
 Sir H. Cool, is that my son ? 
 
 Cool (drops down l., puts on a pair of eye-glasses, looks 
 at Young C, who makes a threatening gesture. Cool 
 pauses — is undecided whether it is better to tell the truth or 
 not. After a moment' s hesitation concludes to support Young 
 
32 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 C. in his falsehood, and answers emphatically). No, sir — it is 
 not Mr. Charles — but it is very like him. {Retires to L.) 
 Max. I cannot understand all this. {Goes up.) 
 Grace {aside). I think I can. {Goes up.) 
 
 Med. 
 Grace. Max. 
 
 Young C. Sir H. 
 
 Daz. Cool, 
 
 r. L. 
 
 Daz. (aside to Young C). Give him a touch of the in- 
 dignant. 
 
 Young C. {crossing r. a). Allow me to say, Sir What- 
 d'ye-call-'em-Hartly 
 
 Sir H. Hartly, sir ! Courtly, sir ! Courtly ! 
 
 Young C. Well, Hartly, or Court-heart, or whatever your 
 name may be, I say your conduct is — a — a — and were it not 
 for the presence of this lady, I should feel inclined — to — to 
 
 (Daz. and Young C. go up r.) 
 
 Sir H. No, no, that can't be my son, — he never would ad- 
 dress me in that way. 
 
 Max {coming down). What is all this ? 
 
 Sir H. Sir (Young C. comes down r.), your likeness to my 
 son Charles is so astonishing, that it, for a moment — the equi- 
 librium of my etiquette — 'pon my life, I — permit me to request 
 your pardon. 
 
 Med. (down l.). Sir Harcourt, don't apologize, don't — 
 bring an action. I'm witness. 
 
 Sir H. (l. a). Some one take this man away. 
 
 (Med. goes up stage with Cool.) 
 Enter James, from house. 
 
 James. Luncheon is on the table, sir. 
 
 Sir H. Miss Harkaway, I never swore before a lady in my 
 life — except when I promised to love and cherish the late Lady 
 Courtly, which I took care to preface with an apology, — I was 
 compelled to the # ceremony, and consequently not answerable 
 for the language — but to that gentleman's identity I would have 
 pledged — my hair. 
 
 Grace (aside). If that security were called for, I suspect 
 the answer would be — no effects. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 33 
 
 Exeunt Sir H. and Grace, into the house. 
 
 Med. {to Max). I have something very particular to com- 
 municate. 
 
 Max. Can't listen at present. 
 
 Exit, into house. 
 
 Med. (to Daz. and Young C). I can afford you informa- 
 tion, which I 
 
 Daz. Oh, don't bother ! 
 Young C. Go to the devil ! 
 
 Exeunt Daz. and Young C, l., into house. 
 
 Med. (r.). Now, I have no hesitation in saying, and I say 
 it boldly, that is the height of ingratitude. — Oh — Mr. Cool — 
 can you oblige me? (Presents his account.) 
 
 Cool (l.). Why, what is all this? 
 
 Med. Small account versus you — to giving information 
 concerning the last census of the population of Oldborough and 
 vicinity, six and eightpence. 
 
 Cool. Oh, you mean to make me pay for this, do you ? 
 
 Med. Unconditionally. 
 
 Cool. Well, I have no objection — the charge is fair — but 
 remember, I am a servant on board wages, — will you throw in 
 a little advice, gratis — if I give you the money ? 
 
 Med. Ahem ! — I will. 
 
 Cool. A fellow has insulted me. I want to abuse him — 
 what terms are actionable ? 
 
 Med. You may call him anything you please, providing 
 there are no witnesses. 
 
 Cool. Oh, may I ? (Looks around.) Then, you rascally, 
 pettifogging scoundrel ! 
 
 READY to ring curtain* 
 
 Med. Hello ! (Retreats to R. ) 
 
 Cool (following him). You mean— dirty — disgrace to 
 your profession. 
 
 Med. Libel — slander 
 
 Cool (going up l. ; turns). Ay, but where are your wit- 
 nesses ? 
 
 Med. Give me the costs — six and eightpence. 
 
 Cool. I deny that you gave me the information at all. 
 
 Med. You do ! 
 
34 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Cool. Yes, where are your witnesses ? 
 
 Exit into house, l. 
 
 Med. Ah — Jenks is at the bottom of this. I have no hesi- 
 tation in saying, and I say it boldly — Damn Jenks ! ! ! 
 
 RING curtain. 
 QUICK CURTAIN 
 
 ACT III 
 
 Scene. — A morning room in Oak Hall, French windows 
 opening to the lawn. Max and Sir H. seated at table R. ; 
 Daz. at small table tip stage ; Grace and Young C. play- 
 ing chess at l. All dressed for dinner. 
 
 Max (aside to Sir H.). What can I do? 
 
 Sir H. Get rid of them civilly. 
 
 Max. What, turn them out, after I particularly invited 
 them to stay a month or two? 
 
 Sir H. Why, they are disreputable characters ; as for that 
 young fellow, in whom my Lady Courtly appears so particu- 
 larly absorbed — I am bewildered — I have written to town for 
 my Charles, my boy — it certainly is the most extraordinary 
 likeness 
 
 Daz. Sir Harcourt, I have an idea 
 
 Sir H. Sir, I am delighted to hear it. (Aside to Max.) 
 That fellow is a swindler. 
 
 Max. I met him at your house. {Rises.) 
 
 Sir H. Never saw him before in all my life. 
 
 Daz. (rising and coming down L. of Sir H.). I will bet 
 you five to one that I can beat you three out of four games of 
 billiards, with one hand. 
 
 Sir H. No, sir. 
 
 Daz. I don't mind giving you ten points in fifty. 
 
 Sir H. Sir, I never gamble. 
 
 Daz. You don't ! Well, I'll teach you — easiest thing in 
 life — you have every requisite — good temper. 
 
 Sir H. I have not, sir. (Rises.) 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 35 
 
 Daz. A long-headed, knowing old buck. 
 
 Sir H. Sir ! {They go 7ip, conversing with Max, c.) 
 
 Grace. Really, Mr. Hamilton, you improve. A young 
 man pays us a visit, as you half intimate, to escape incon- 
 venient friends — that is complimentary to us, his hosts. 
 
 Young C. Nay, that is too severe. 
 
 Grace. After an acquaintanceship of two days, you sit 
 down to teach me chess and domestic economy at the same 
 time. Might I ask where you graduated in that science — where 
 you learned all that store of matrimonial advice which you have 
 obliged me with? {They rise a?id co7?ie forward to c.) 
 
 Young C. I imbibed it, madam, from the moment I beheld 
 you, and having studied my subject con amore, took my degree 
 from your eyes. 
 
 Grace. Oh, I see you are a Master of Arts already. 
 
 Young C. Unfortunately, no — I shall remain a bachelor — 
 till you can assist me to that honor. 
 
 Daz. {coming down on r., aside ; to Young C). How do 
 you get on? 
 
 Young C. {aside). Splendidly ! Keep the old boy away ! 
 
 Sir H. {going to them). Is the conversation strictly confi- 
 dential ? — or might I join ? 
 
 Daz. {stepping between Sir H. and Young C, takes Sir H. 
 by the arm and leads him down stage). Oh, not in the least, 
 my dear sir — we were remarking that rifle shooting was an ex- 
 cellent diversion during the summer months. 
 
 Sir H. {drawing himself tip). Sir, I was addressing 
 
 Daz. And I was saying what a pity it was I couldn't find 
 any one reasonable enough to back his opinion with long odds 
 — come out on the lawn, and pitch up your hat, and I will hold 
 you ten to one I put a bullet into it every time, at forty paces. 
 
 Sir H. No, sir — I consider you 
 
 Max {at window). Here, all of you — look, here is Lady 
 Gay Spanker coming across the lawn at a hand gallop ! 
 
 Sir H. {running to windozv). Bless me, the horse is run- 
 ning away ! 
 
 Max. Look how she takes that fence ! there's a seat. 
 
 Sir H. {coming down, l. a). Lady Gay Spanker — who 
 may she be? 
 
 Grace {down a). Gay Spanker, Sir Harcourt? My 
 cousin and dearest friend — you must like her. 
 
 Sir H. It will be my devoir, since it is your wish — though 
 it will be a hard task in your presence. 
 
36 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Grace. I am sure she will like you. 
 Sir H. Ha ! ha ! I flatter myself. 
 Young C. Who, and what is she ? 
 
 (All come down ; Max, c, Sir H., l. c, Grace and Young C, 
 r., Daz. up c.) 
 
 Grace. Glee, glee, made a living thing — Nature, in some 
 frolic mood, shut up a merry devil in her eye, and, spiting 
 Art, stole Joy's brightest harmony to thrill her laugh, which 
 peals out sorrow's knell. Her cry rings loudest in the field — 
 the very echo loves it best, and as each hill attempts to ape her 
 voice, Earth seems to laugh that it made a thing so glad. 
 
 Max (l. a). Ay, the merriest minx I ever kissed. 
 
 (Lady Gay Spanker laughs without.) 
 
 Lady G. (without ). Max ! 
 
 Max. Come in, you mischievous puss. 
 
 Enter James, r. u. e. 
 
 James. Mr. Adolphus and Lady Gay Spanker. 
 
 Exit, R. U. E. 
 
 Enter Lady G., r. u. e., fully equipped in riding habit y etc. 
 
 Lady G. (down a). Ha ! ha ! Well, governor, how are 
 ye ? I have been down five times, climbing up your stairs in 
 my long clothes. How are you, Grace, dear? (Kisses her.) 
 There, don't fidget, Max. And there — (kissing him, l. c.) 
 there's one for you. 
 
 Sir H. (l.). Ahem ! 
 
 Lady G. (a). Oh, gracious, I didn't see you had visitors. 
 
 Max (l. a). Permit me to introduce (crossing c.) Sir 
 Harcourt Courtly, Lady Gay Spanker. Mr. Dazzle, Mr. 
 Hamilton — Lady Gay Spanker. 
 
 Sir H. (aside). A devilish fine woman ! 
 
 Daz. (aside to Sir H.). She's a devilish fine woman. 
 
 Lady G. You mustn't think anything of the liberties I take 
 with my old papa here — bless him ! (Kisses him again.) 
 
 Sir H. Oh, no ! (Aside.) I only thought I should like 
 to be in his place. 
 
 Lady G. I am so glad you have come, Sir Harcourt. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE tf 
 
 Now we shall be able to make a decent figure at the heels of a 
 hunt. 
 
 Sir H. Does your ladyship hunt ? 
 
 Lady G. Ha ! I say, governor, does my ladyship hunt ? 
 I rather flatter myself that I do hunt ! Why, Sir Harcourt, 
 one might as well live without laughing as without hunting. 
 It's indigenous to humanity. Man was formed expressly to fit 
 a horse. Are not hedges and ditches created for leaps ? Of 
 course ! And I look upon foxes to be one of the most blessed 
 dispensations of a benign Providence. 
 
 (Grace and Young C, up r.) 
 
 Sir H. (l. a). Yes, it is all very well in the abstract; I 
 tried it once. 
 
 Lady G. (r. a). Once! Only once? 
 
 Sir H. Once, only once. And then the animal ran away 
 with me. (Max r. ; Daz. l.) 
 
 Lady G. Why, you would not have him walk ? 
 
 Sir H. Finding my society disagreeable, he instituted a 
 series of kicks, with a view to removing the annoyance ; but 
 aided by the united stays of the mane and tail, I frustrated 
 his intentions. {All laugh.) His next resource, however, 
 was more effectual, for he succeeded in rubbing me off against 
 a tree. 
 
 ^ G } Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Daz. {crossing between Lady G. and Sir H.). How ab- 
 surd you must have looked with your legs and arms in the air, 
 like a shipwrecked tea-table. 
 
 Sir H. (l.). Sir, I never looked absurd in my life. Ah, it 
 may be very amusing in relation, I dare say, but very unpleas- 
 ant in effect. 
 
 Lady G. I pity you, Sir Harcourt ; it was criminal in your 
 parents to neglect your education so shamefully. 
 
 (Grace and Young C., down r.) 
 
 Sir H. Possibly ; but be assured, I shall never break my 
 neck awkwardly from a horse, when it might be accomplished 
 with less trouble from a bedroom window. 
 
 Young C. (r., aside). My dad will be caught by this she 
 Bucephalus tamer. 
 
38 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Max (to Sir H.). You must leave your town habits in the 
 smoke of London ; here we rise with the lark. 
 
 Sir H. Haven't the remotest conception when that period 
 is. 
 
 Grace (a). The man that misses sunrise loses the sweetest 
 part of his existence. 
 
 Sir H. Oh, pardon me ; I have seen sunrise frequently 
 after a ball, or from the windows of my traveling carriage, and 
 I always considered it excessively disagreeable. 
 
 Grace. I love to watch the first tear that glistens in the 
 opening eye of morning, the silent song the flowers breathe, the 
 thrilling choir of the woodland minstrels, to which the modest 
 brook trickles applause ; these swelling out the sweetest chord 
 of sweet creation's matins, seem to pour some soft and merry 
 tale into the daylight's ear, as if the waking world had dreamed 
 a happy thing, and now smiled o'er the telling of it. 
 
 Sir H. (l. a). The effect of a rustic education ! Who 
 could ever discover music in a damp, foggy morning, except 
 those confounded waits, who never play in tune, and a mis- 
 erable wretch who makes a point of crying coffee under my 
 window just as I am persuading myself to sleep : in fact, I 
 never heard any music worth listening to, except in Italy. 
 
 Lady G. (a). No? then you never heard a well-trained 
 English pack in full cry ! 
 
 Sir H. Full cry ! 
 
 Lady G. Ay ! there is harmony, if you will. Give me the 
 trumpet-neigh ; the spotted pack just catching scent. What a 
 chorus is their yelp ! The view-hallo, blent with a peal of free 
 and fearless mirth ! That's our old English music — match it 
 where you can. 
 
 Sir H. (l. c, aside). I must see about Lady Gay Spanker. 
 
 Daz. (l., aside to Sir H.). Ah, would you 
 
 Lady G. Time then appears as young as love, and plumes 
 as swift a wing. Away we go ! The earth flies back to aid 
 our course ! Horse, man, hound, earth, heaven ! — all — all — 
 one piece of glowing ecstasy ! Then I love the world, myself, 
 and every living thing — my jocund soul cries out for very glee, 
 as it could wish that all creation had but one mouth, that I 
 might kiss it ! (Goes tip c.) 
 
 Sir H. (aside). I wish I were the mouth ! 
 
 Max. Ah ! Sir Harcourt, had you been here a month 
 ago, you would have witnessed the most glorious run that ever 
 swept over merry England's green cheek — a steeple-chase, sir, 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 39 
 
 which I intended to win, but my horse broke down the day 
 before. I had a chance, notwithstanding, and but for Gay 
 here, I should have won. How I regretted my absence from 
 it ! How did my filly behave herself, Gay ? 
 
 Lady G. {down a). Gloriously, Max ! gloriously ! There 
 were sixteen horses in the field, all mettle to the bone ; the 
 start was a picture — away we went in a cloud — pell-mell — 
 helter-skelter — the fools first, as usual, using themselves up — 
 we soon passed them — first your Kitty, then my Blueskin, and 
 Craven's colt last. Then came the tug — Kitty skimmed the 
 walls — Blueskin flew over the fences — the colt neck-and-neck, 
 and half a mile to run — at last the colt baulked a leap and went 
 wild. Kitty and I had it all to ourselves — she was three 
 lengths ahead as we breasted the last wall, six feet, if an inch, 
 and a ditch on the other side. Now, for the first time, I gave 
 Blueskin his head — ha ! ha ! Away he flew like a thunderbolt 
 — over went the filly — I over the same spot, leaving Kitty in 
 the ditch — walked the steeple, eight miles in thirty minutes, 
 and scarcely turned a hair. (Crosses l. c.) 
 
 All. Bravo ! Bravo ! 
 
 Lady G. (l. a). Do you hunt ? 
 
 Daz. (l.). Hunt ! I belong to a hunting family. I was 
 born on horseback and cradled in a kennel ! Ay, and I hope 
 I may die with a whoo-whoop ! 
 
 Max. Why, we'll regenerate you, Baronet. 
 
 Daz. Yes, we'll regenerate you, Baronet. 
 
 (Slaps Sir H. o?i the shoulder so heavily that it topples him 
 forward, making him look absurd and annoyed. He 
 goes up and round to r. of Lady G.) 
 
 Max. But Gay, where is your husband ? Where is Adol- 
 phus ? 
 
 Lady G. {coming down). Bless me, where is my Dolly? 
 
 Sir H. You are married, then ? 
 
 Lady G. I have a husband somewhere, though I can't find 
 him just now. (Calls.) Dolly, dear ! (Aside to Max.) Gov- 
 ernor, at home I always whistle when I want him. 
 
 Enter Dolly Spanker, r. u. e. ; Grace and Max meet him 
 and shake hands. 
 
 Span. Here I am — did you call me, Gay ? 
 Sir H. (eyeing him). Is that your husband ? 
 
40 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Lady G. {aside). Yes, bless his stupid face, that's my 
 Dolly. 
 
 Lady G. 
 Max. Span. 
 
 Grace. Sir H. 
 
 Young C. Daz. 
 
 r. L. 
 
 Max. Permit me to introduce you to Sir Harcourt Courtly. 
 Span. How d'ye do? I — ah! — urn! {Appears frightened.) 
 Lady G. {getting behind Span, and speaking over his shoul- 
 der). Delighted to have the honor 
 
 Span, {repeating timidly). Delighted to have the honor 
 
 Lady G. {as before). Of making the acquaintance 
 
 Span. Of making the acquaintance 
 
 Lady G. Of a gentleman so highly celebrated : 
 
 Span. Of a gentleman so highly celebrated 
 
 Lady G. In the world of Fashion. 
 
 Span. In the world of Fashion. 
 
 Lady G. {pushing him). That will do, stupid. 
 
 Span. That will do, stupid. 
 
 {Gets quite confused, draws on his glove and tears it.) 
 
 Lady G. Where have you been, Dolly ? 
 
 Span. Oh, ah, I was just outside. 
 
 Max. Why did you not come in ? 
 
 Span. I'm sure I didn't — I don't exactly know, but I 
 thought as — perhaps — I can't remember. 
 
 Daz. Shall we have the pleasure of your company to 
 dinner ? 
 
 Span. I always dine — usually — that is, unless Gay re- 
 mains 
 
 Lady G. Stay to dinner, of course ; we came on purpose 
 to stop three or four days with you. 
 
 Grace. Will you excuse my absence, Gay ? 
 
 {Crosses to L. i e.) 
 
 Max. What ! what ! Where are you going ? What takes 
 you away ? 
 
 Grace. We must postpone the dinner till Gay is dressed 
 
 Max. Oh, never mind, — stay where you are. 
 
 Grace. No, I must go. 
 
 Max. I say you sha'n't ! I will be king in my own house. 
 
 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 41 
 
 Grace. Do, my dear uncle ; (crossing) you shall be king, 
 and I'll be your prime minister, — that is, I'll rule, and you 
 shall have the honor of taking the consequences. 
 
 (Sir H. is about to offer his arm to Grace, when Daz. inter- 
 cepts and leads her off and then returns and makes 
 Sir H. a very low and polite bow.) 
 
 Lady G. Well said, Grace \ have your own way ; it is the 
 only thing we women ought to be allowed. 
 Max. Come, Gay, dress for dinner. 
 Sir H. (r.). Permit me, Lady Gay Spanker. 
 Lady G. (a). With pleasure, — what do you want? 
 
 (Crosses to l. and turns round.) 
 
 Sir H. To escort you. 
 
 Lady G. Oh, never mind, I can escort myself, thank you, 
 and Dolly too ; come, dear ! 
 
 Exit, l. 1 E. 
 
 Sir H. Au revoir ! 
 
 Span. Eh ? 
 
 Sir H. Au revoir. 
 
 Span. Thank you, I never do before dinner. 
 
 Exit awkward and confused, l. i e. 
 
 Sir H. What an ill-assorted pair ! 
 
 Max. Not a bit ! She married him for freedom, and she 
 has it ; he married her for protection, and he has it. 
 
 Sir H. How he ever summoned courage to propose to her, 
 I can't guess. 
 
 Max (taking his arm). Bless you, he never did. She pro- 
 posed to him. She says he would if he could; but as he 
 couldn't, she did it for him. 
 
 Exeunt Max and Sir H., laughing, through window, l. u. e. 
 
 Enter Cool with letter, r. u. e. 
 
 Cool (l.). Mr. Charles, I have been watching to find you 
 alone. Sir Harcourt has written to town for you. 
 Young C. (r.). The devil he has ! 
 Cool. He expects you down to-morrow evening. 
 Daz. (a). Oh ! he'll be punctual. A thought strikes me. 
 
42 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Young C. Pooh ! Confound your thoughts ! I can think 
 of nothing but the idea of leaving Grace, at the very moment 
 when I had established the most 
 
 Daz. What if I can prevent her marriage with your gov- 
 ernor ? 
 
 Young C. Impossible ! 
 
 Daz. He's pluming himself for the conquest of Lady Gay 
 Spanker. It will not be difficult to make him believe she ac- 
 cedes to his suit. And if she would but join in the plan 
 
 Young C. I see it all. And do you think she would ? 
 
 Daz. I mistake my game if she would not. 
 
 Cool. Here comes Sir Harcourt ! 
 
 Daz. I'll begin with him. Retire, and watch how I'll 
 open the campaign for you. 
 
 Exeunt Young C. and Cool, r. u. e. 
 Enter Sir H., l. u. e. 
 
 Sir H. (l. a). Here is that cursed fellow again. 
 
 Daz. (r. a). Ah, my dear old friend ! 
 
 Sir H. Mr. Dazzle ! 
 
 Daz. I have a secret of importance to disclose to you. 
 Are you a man of honor ? Hush ! don't speak ; you are. It 
 is with the greatest pain I am compelled to request you, as a 
 gentleman, that you will shun studiously the society of Lady 
 Gay Spanker ! 
 
 Sir H. Good gracious ! Wherefore, and by what right do 
 you make such a demand ? 
 
 Daz. Why, I am distantly related to the Spankers. 
 
 Sir H. Why, hang it, sir, if you don't appear to be related 
 to every family in Great Britain ! 
 
 Daz. A good many of the nobility claim me as a connec- 
 tion. But, to return — she is much struck with your address ; 
 evidently, she laid herself out for display 
 
 Sir H. Ha ! you surprise me ! 
 
 Daz. To entangle you. 
 
 Sir H. Ha ! ha ! why, it did appear like it. 
 
 Daz. You will spare her for my sake ; give her no encour- 
 agement ; if disgrace come upon my relatives, the Spankers, I 
 should never hold up my head again. 
 
 Sir H. (aside). I shall achieve an easy conquest, and a 
 glorious. Ha ! ha ! I never remarked it before, but this is a 
 gentleman. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 43 
 
 Daz. May I rely on your generosity ? 
 
 Sir H. Faithfully. {Shakes his hand.') Sir, I honor and 
 esteem you ; but, might I ask, how came you to meet our friend, 
 Max Harkaway, in my house in Belgrave Square ? 
 
 Reenter Young C, r. u. e. ; sits on chair at r. 
 
 Daz. Certainly. I had an acceptance of your son's for 
 one hundred pounds. 
 
 Sir H. {astonished). Of my son's? Impossible! 
 
 Daz. Ah, sir, fact ! he paid a debt for a poor unfortunate 
 man — fifteen children — half-a-dozen wives — the devil knows 
 what all. 
 
 Sir H. Simple boy. 
 
 Daz. Innocent youth, I have no doubt; when you have 
 the hundred convenient, I shall feel delighted. 
 
 Sir H. Oh ! follow me to my room, and if you have the 
 document, it will be happiness to me to pay it. Poor Charles ! 
 good heart ! 
 
 Daz. Oh, a splendid heart ! I dare say. (Exit Sir H., 
 l. u. e.) Come here; bring your splendid heart here and 
 write me the bill. 
 
 Young C. (r., at table). What for? 
 
 Daz. {standing above table). What for? why, to release 
 the unfortunate man and his family, to be sure, from jail. 
 
 Young C. Who is he? 
 
 Daz. Yourself. 
 
 Young C. But I haven't fifteen children ! 
 
 Daz. Will you take your oath of that ? 
 
 Young C. Nor four wives. 
 
 Daz. More shame for you, with all that family. Come, 
 don't be obstinate; write and date it back. 
 
 Young C. {sitting). Ay, but where is the stamp? 
 
 Daz. Here they are, of all patterns. {Pulls out a pocket- 
 book.) I keep them ready drawn in case of necessity, all but 
 the date and acceptance. {Hands paper which Young C. 
 signs.) Now, if you are in an autographic humor, you can 
 try how your signature will look across half-a-dozen of them ; 
 — there — write — exactly — you know the place — across — good — 
 and thank your lucky stars that you have found a friend at last, 
 that gives you money and advice. {Takes paper.) I'll give 
 the old gentleman this, and then you can relieve the necessities 
 of your fifteen little unfortunates. 
 
44 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Exit, l. u. E. 
 
 Young C. Things are approaching to a climax ; I must 
 appear in propria persona — and immediately — but I must first 
 ascertain what are the real sentiments of this riddle of a woman. 
 Does she love me ? I flatter myself — by Jove here she comes — 
 I shall never have such an opportunity again ! {Retires up, r.) 
 
 Enter Grace, l. 
 
 Grace. I wish I had never seen Mr. Hamilton. Why 
 does every object appear robbed of the charm it once presented 
 to me ? Why do I shudder at the contemplation of this mar- 
 riage which, till now, was to me a subject of indifference? 
 {Crosses j r., and sits.) Am I in love? In love! if I am, 
 my past life has been the work of raising up a pedestal to place 
 my own folly on — I — the infidel — the railer ! 
 
 Young C. (advancing, l.). Meditating upon matrimony, 
 madam ? 
 
 Grace (aside). He little thinks he was the subject of my 
 meditations! (Aloud.) No, Mr. Hamilton, I (Rises.) 
 
 Young C. (aside). I must unmask my battery now. 
 
 Grace (aside). How foolish I am — he will perceive that I 
 tremble — I must appear at ease. (A pause ; she sits.) 
 
 Young C. Eh? ah! urn! 
 
 Grace. Ah ! (They sink into silence again ; aside.) How 
 very awkward ! 
 
 Young C. (aside). It is a very difficult subject to begin. 
 (Aloud.) Madam — ahem— there was — is — I mean — I was 
 
 about to remark that I was about to observe — a (Aside.) 
 
 Hang me if it is not a very slippery subject. I must brush up 
 my faculties ; attack her in her own way. (Aloud. ) Sing ! 
 oh, muse ! (Aside.) Why, I have made love before to a 
 hundred women ! 
 
 Grace (aside). I wish I had something to do, for I have 
 nothing to say. 
 
 Young C. (sitting near her). Madam — there is — a subject 
 so frate with, — faught — no, no, — so fraught with fate to my 
 future life, that you must pardon my lack of delicacy should a 
 too hasty expression mar the fervent courtesy of its intent. 
 (Pause.) To you, I feel aware, I must appear in the light of a 
 comparative stranger. 
 
 Grace (aside). I know what's coming. 
 
 Young C. Of you — I know perhaps too much 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 45 
 
 Grace. Eh ? 
 
 Young C. For my own peace. 
 
 Grace (aside). He is in love. 
 
 Young C. I forget all that befell before I saw your beaute- 
 ous self; I seem born into another world — my nature changed 
 — the beams of that bright face falling on my soul have, from 
 its chaos, warmed into life the flowrets of affection, whose 
 maiden odors now float toward the clouds — the clouds — clouds. 
 {Aside.) Damn me, I am in the clouds now. (Aloud.) I 
 should say the sun, pouring forth on their pure tongue a mite 
 of adoration, midst the voices of a universe. (Aside.) That's 
 something in her own style. 
 
 Grace. Mr. Hamilton ! 
 
 Young C. You cannot feel surprised 
 
 Grace. I am more than surprised. (Aside,) I am de- 
 lighted. 
 
 Young C. Do not speak so coldly. 
 
 Grace. You have offended me. 
 
 Young C. No, madam; no woman, whatever her state, 
 can be offended by the adoration even of the meanest ; it is 
 myself whom I have offended and deceived — but still I ask 
 your pardon. 
 
 Grace (aside). Oh ! he thinks I am refusing him. (Aloud.) 
 I am not exactly offended, but 
 
 Young C. Consider my position — a few days — and an un- 
 surmountable barrier would have placed you beyond my wildest 
 hopes — I would have been your mother ! No, no, no, I would 
 have been your father. No ! no ! you would have been my 
 mother. (He starts up, annoyed at having betrayed himself.) 
 
 Grace. I should have been your mother ! (Aside.) I 
 thought so. 
 
 Young C. No — that is, I meant Sir Harcourt Courtly' s 
 bride. 
 
 Grace (with great emphasis). Never ! 
 
 Young C. How! never! may I then hope? — you turn 
 away — you would not lacerate me by a refusal ? 
 
 Grace (aside). How stupid he is ! 
 
 (Turns her back on him and puts her hand behind her for him 
 to take it. Young C. is bewildered and does not under- 
 stand until she reaches the line "Unhand me, sir.") 
 
 Young C. Still silent ! I thank you, Miss Grace — I ought 
 
46 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 to have expected this — fool that I have been — one course alone 
 remains — farewell ! 
 
 Grace {aside). Now he's going. 
 
 Young C. Farewell forever ! {Sits.') Will you not speak 
 one word ? I shall leave this house immediately — I shall not 
 see you again. 
 
 Grace. Unhand me, sir, I insist. 
 
 Young C. {aside). Oh ! what an ass I've been ! {Rushes 
 up to her and seizes her hand.) Release this hand? Never! 
 never ! {Kisses it.) Never will I quit this hand ! it shall be 
 my companion in misery — in solitude — when you are far away. 
 
 Grace. Oh ! should any one come ! {Drops her hand- 
 kerchief ; he stoops to pick it up and puts it in his breast pocket 
 for business in next act.) For heaven's sake, do not kneel. 
 
 Young C. {kneeling). Forever thus prostrate, before my 
 soul's saint, I will lead a pious life of eternal adoration. 
 
 Grace. Should we be discovered thus — pray, Mr. Hamil- 
 ton — pray — pray. 
 
 Young C. Pray ! I am praying; what more can I do? 
 
 Grace. Your conduct is shameful. 
 
 Young C. It is. {Rises.) 
 
 Grace. And if I do not scream, it is not for your sake — 
 that — but it might alarm the family. 
 
 Young C. It might — it would. Say, am I wholly indiffer- 
 ent to you ? I entreat one word — I implore you — do not with- 
 draw your hand. {She snatches it away; he puts his arm 
 around her waist.) You smile. 
 
 Grace. Leave me, dear Mr. Hamilton ! 
 
 Young C. Dear ! Then I am dear to you ; that word once 
 more ; say — say you love me ! 
 
 Grace. Is this fair ? 
 
 (Young C. catches her in his arms and kisses her.) 
 
 Enter Lady G., l. u. e. Young C. turns at the moment to 
 l. , as Lady G. enters. Grace, seeing her first, runs off 
 r. i e., with a suppressed scream. At that moment 
 Young C. turns as if to address Grace, discovers his 
 mistake, and is for a moment embarrassed. 
 
 Lady G. Ha ! oh ! 
 Young C. Fizgig ! The devil ! 
 
 Lady G. Don't mind me — pray, don't let me be any in- 
 terruption ! 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 47 
 
 Young C. I was just 
 
 Lady G. Yes, I see you were. 
 
 Young C. Oh ! madam, how could you mar my bliss in 
 the very ecstasy of its fulfilment ? 
 
 Lady G. I always like to be in at the death. Never drop 
 your ears; bless you, she's only a little fresh — give her her 
 head, and she will outrun herself. 
 
 Young C. Possibly; but what am I to do ? 
 
 Lady G. Keep your seat. 
 
 Young C. But in a few days she will take a leap that must 
 throw me — she marries Sir Harcourt Courtly. 
 
 Lady G. Why, that is awkward, certainly; but you can 
 challenge him, and shoot him. 
 
 Young C. Unfortunately that is out of the question. 
 
 Lady G. How so ? 
 
 Young C. You will not betray a secret, if I inform you ? 
 
 Lady G. All right — what is it? 
 
 Young C. I am his son. 
 
 READY dinner belL 
 
 Lady G. What — his son ? But he does not know you ? 
 
 Young C. No ; I met him here by chance, and faced it 
 out. I never saw him before in my life. 
 
 Lady G. Beautiful ! I see it all — you're in love with your 
 mother that should be — your wife, that will be. 
 
 Young C. Now I think I could distance the old gentle- 
 man, if you will but lend us your assistance. 
 
 Lady G. I will, in anything. 
 
 Young C. You must know, then, that my father, Sir Har- 
 court, has fallen desperately in love with you. 
 
 Lady G. With me ! (Utters a scream of delight.) That 
 is delicious ! 
 
 Young C. Now, if you only could 
 
 Lady G. Could !— I will ! Ha ! ha ! I see my cue. Til 
 cross his scent — I'll draw him after me. Ho ! ho ! won't I 
 make love to him ? Ha ! 
 
 Young C. The only objection might be Mr. Spanker, who 
 might 
 
 Lady G. No, he mightn't, he has no objection. Bless him, 
 he's an inestimable little character — you don't know him as 
 well as I do. I dare say — ha ! ha ! 
 
 RING dinner belL 
 
48 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Here they come to dinner. I'll commence my operations on 
 your governor immediately. Ha ! ha ! how I shall enjoy it. 
 
 WARN curtain* 
 
 Young C. Be guarded ! 
 
 Enter Max, r., Sir H., l., Daz., r., Span., l., and 
 Grace, r. i e. 
 
 Max. Now, gentlemen — Sir Harcourt, do you lead Grace. 
 Lady G. I believe Sir Harcourt is engaged to me. 
 
 {Takes his arm.) 
 
 Max. Well, please yourselves. 
 
 RING curtain* 
 
 {They file out, l., Max first, Young C. and Grace, Sir H., 
 coquetting with Lady G., leaving Daz., who offers his 
 arm to Span., and walks on. Span, runs after him, try- 
 ing to take it.) 
 
 QUICK CURTAIN 
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Scene. — Same as Act III. Grace and Lady G. discovered 
 drinking coffee. 
 
 READY voices L. U. E. 
 
 Grace (on ottoman, r. a). If there be one habit more 
 abominable than another, it is that of the gentlemen sitting 
 over their wine ; it is a selfish, unfeeling fashion, and a gross 
 insult to our sex. 
 
 Lady G. (l.). We are turned out just when the fun begins. 
 How happy the poor wretches look at the contemplation of 
 being rid of us. 
 
 Grace. The conventional signal for the ladies to withdraw 
 is anxiously and deliberately waited for. 
 
 Lady G. Then I begin to wish I were a man. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 49 
 
 Grace. The instant the door is closed upon us, there rises 
 a roar ! 
 
 Lady G. In celebration of their short-lived liberty, my love ; 
 rejoicing over their emancipation. 
 
 Grace. I think it very insulting, whatever it may be. 
 
 Lady G. Ah ! my dear, philosophers say that man is the 
 creature of an hour — it is the dinner hour, I suppose. 
 
 Daz. {without), A song, a song ! 
 
 CRIES outside* 
 
 ( Voices as if in approval of the proposition, knocking on table, 
 etc. " Bravo / " at back.) 
 
 Enter servant, L., to take coffee-cups from Lady G. and 
 
 Grace. 
 
 Grace. I am afraid they are getting too pleasant to be 
 agreeable. 
 
 Lady G. I hope the squire will restrict himself; after his 
 third bottle he becomes rather voluminous. 
 
 CRIES outside of "Silence* silence*'* 
 
 Some one is going to sing. (Jumps up.) Let us hear ! 
 Grace. Oh, no, Gay, for heaven's sake ! 
 
 (Span, is heard to sing "A Southerly Wind and a Cloudy 
 Sky" ; after verse, chorus.) 
 
 Lady G. Oho ! ha ! ha ! why, that is my Dolly. {At the 
 conclusion of the verse.) Well, I never heard my Dolly sing 
 before ! Happy wretches, how I envy them ! 
 
 Enter James, l. i e., with a note on salver. 
 
 James. Mr. Hamilton has just left the house for London. 
 Grace. Impossible ! — that is, without seeing — that is 
 
 {Rises and crosses to James.) 
 
 Lady G. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Grace. He never — speak, sir ! 
 
 James. He left, Miss Grace, in a desperate hurry, and this 
 note, I believe, is for you. {Presents a note on salver.) 
 
 Grace. For me ! {About to snatch it, but restraining her- 
 self, takes it coolly. Exit James, l. i e.) Excuse me, Gay. 
 {Reads.) "Your manner during dinner has left me no al- 
 
50 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 ternative but instant departure ; my absence will release you 
 from the oppression which my society must necessarily inflict 
 on your sensitive mind. It may tend also to smother, though 
 it can never extinguish, that indomitable passion, of which I 
 am the passive victim. Dare I supplicate pardon and oblivion 
 for the past ? It is the last request of the self-deceived, but 
 still loving Augustus Hamilton." 
 
 (Puts her hand to her forehead and appears giddy.} 
 
 Lady G. Hallo, Grace ! Pull up; what's the matter? 
 
 Grace {recovering herself). Nothing — the heat of the 
 room. 
 
 Lady G. Oh ! what excuse does he make ? Particular un- 
 foreseen business, I suppose ? 
 
 Grace. Why, yes — a mere formula — a — a — you may put 
 it in the fire. {Puts it in her bosom.) 
 
 Lady G. {aside). It is near enough to the fire where 
 it is. 
 
 Grace (a). I'm glad he's gone. 
 
 Lady G. (r.). So am I. 
 
 Grace. He was a disagreeable, ignorant person. 
 
 Lady G. Yes ; and so vulgar. 
 
 Grace. No, he was not at all vulgar. 
 
 Lady G. I mean in appearance. 
 
 Grace. Oh ! how can you say so ? He was very dis- 
 tingue. 
 
 Lady G. Well, I might have been mistaken, but I took 
 him for a forward, intrusive 
 
 Grace. Good gracious, Gay ! he was very retiring — even 
 shy. 
 
 Lady G. {aside). It's all right. She is in love, — blows hot 
 and cold in the same breath. 
 
 Grace. How can you be a competent judge? Why, you 
 have not known him more than a few hours, — while I — I 
 
 Lady G. Have known him two days and a quarter ! I 
 yield — I confess, I never was, or will be so intimate with him 
 as you appeared to be ! Ha ! ha ! 
 
 {Loud noise of argument ; the folding-doors are thrown open. 
 Enter the whole party of gentlemen, apparently engaged 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 5 1 
 
 in warm discussion. Max, Sir H., Daz., and Span., to- 
 gether, and take positions as follows.) 
 
 Max. 
 Daz. Sir H. 
 
 Span. 
 Lady G. 
 Grace (seated). 
 
 R. L. 
 
 Daz. (up a). But, my dear sir, consider the state of the 
 two countries, under such a constitution. 
 
 Sir H. (l. a). The two countries ! What have they to 
 do with the subject? 
 
 Max (r. a). Everything. Look at their two legislative 
 bodies. 
 
 Span, (a, a little drunk). Ay, look at their two legislative 
 bodies. 
 
 Sir H. Why, it would inevitably establish universal an- 
 archy and confusion. 
 
 Grace (r. a). I think they are pretty well established 
 already. 
 
 Span. Well, suppose it did, what have anarchy and con- 
 fusion to do with the subject ? 
 
 Lady G. (r. a). Do look at my Dolly: he is arguing — 
 talking politics — 'pon my life he is. (Calls.) Mr. Spanker, 
 my dear ! 
 
 Span. Excuse me, love, I am discussing a point of impor- 
 tance. 
 
 Lady G. Oh, that is delicious ; he must discuss that to me. 
 (She goes up and leads him down c. ; he appears to have 
 shaken off his gaucherie ; she shakes her head.) Dolly! 
 Dolly ! 
 
 Span. (l.). Pardon me, Lady Gay Spanker, I conceive 
 your mutilation of my sponsorial appellation highly derogatory 
 to my amour propre. 
 
 Lady G. (a). Your what? Ho! ho! 
 
 Span. And I particularly request that, for the future, I may 
 not be treated with that cavalier spirit which does not become 
 your sex nor your station, your ladyship. 
 
 Lady G. You have been indulging till you have lost the 
 little wit nature dribbled into your unfortunate little head — 
 your brains want the whipper-in — you are not yourself. 
 
 Span. Madam, I am doubly myself; and permit me to 
 
52 
 
 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 inform you, that unless you voluntarily pay obedience to ray 
 commands, I shall enforce them. 
 
 Lady G. Your commands ! 
 
 Span. Yes, madam; I mean to put a full stop to your 
 hunting. 
 
 Lady G. You do S ah ! (Aside.) I can scarcely speak 
 from delight. (Aloud.) Who put such an idea into your head, 
 for I am sure it is not an original emanation of your genius ? 
 
 Span. Sir Harcourt Courtly, my friend; and now, mark 
 me ! I request, for your own sake, that I may not be com- 
 pelled to assert my a — my authority, as your husband. I shall 
 say no more than this — if you persist in your absurd re- 
 bellion 
 
 LadyG. Well? 
 
 Span. Contemplate a separation. 
 
 (Looks at her haughtily and retires up.) 
 
 Lady G. Now I'm happy ! My own little darling, inesti- 
 mable Dolly has tumbled into a spirit, somehow. Sir Har- 
 court, too ! Ha ! ha ! he's trying to make him ill-treat me, so 
 that his own suit may thrive. 
 
 (Max goes to Grace, r. Daz. goes down to table l. and 
 picks up a book. Span, is up stage. Sir H. goes down 
 on Lady G.'s l. as she stands in c.) 
 
 Sir H. (l. c, advancing). Lady Gay ! 
 
 Lady G. (aside). Now for it. (They sit on ottoman, c.) 
 
 Sir H. What hours of misery were those I passed when, by 
 your secession, the room suffered a total eclipse. 
 
 Lady G. Ah ! you flatter. 
 
 Sir H. No, pardon me, that were impossible. No, believe 
 me, I tried to join in the boisterous mirth, but my thoughts 
 would desert to the drawing-room. Ah ! how I envied the 
 careless levity and cool indifference with which Mr. Spanker 
 enjoyed your absence. 
 
 Daz. (who is lounging in a chair, r.). Max, that Madeira 
 is worth its weight in gold ; I hope you have more of it. 
 
 Max (r., talking with Grace). A pipe, I think. 
 
 Daz. I consider a magnum of that nectar, and a meer- 
 schaum of kanaster, to consummate the ultimatum of all mun- 
 dane bliss. To drown myself in liquid ecstasy and then blow 
 a cloud on which the enfranchised soul could soar above 
 Olympus. Oh ! 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 53 
 
 Enter James, r. u. e. 
 James. Mr. Charles Courtly ! 
 
 Exit, R. u. E. 
 
 Sir H. Ah now, Max, you must see a living apology for 
 my conduct. (Enter Young C, dressed very plainly, r. u. e. 
 Crosses at back and comes down in l. corner.) Well, Charles, 
 how are you ? Don't be afraid. There, Max, what do you 
 say now ? 
 
 Max (r. a). Well, this is the most extraordinary likeness. 
 
 Grace (r., aside). Yes — considering it is the original. I 
 am not so easily deceived ! 
 
 Max (crossing l. c. and shaking hands). Sir, I am de- 
 lighted to see you. 
 
 Young C. Thank you, sir. 
 
 READY music on stage outside* 
 
 Daz. (r.). Will you be kind enough to introduce me, Sir 
 Harcourt ? 
 
 (Comes down r., bringing Span, with him. Span, is very 
 drunk. When they are introduced Daz. crosses to 
 Young C, still leading Span. As he passes him, bow- 
 ing, there is a mutual recognition.) 
 
 Sir H. This is Mr. Dazzle, Charles. 
 Young C. Which ? 
 
 (Looks from Span. r. c. to Daz. r. Daz. crosses r. c, 
 nearly tumbling over Span, who goes up. Young C. 
 winks at Daz.) 
 
 Sir H. (to Lady G.). Is not that refreshing? Miss Hark- 
 away — Charles, this is your mother, or rather will be. 
 
 (Lady G. steps down unintentionally between Young C. and 
 Grace at the introduction.) 
 
 Young C. Madam, I shall love (Discovers he is 
 
 speaking to Lady G. ; is embarrassed when corrected and 
 crosses to Grace.) Madam, I shall love, honor and obey you 
 punctually. (Takes out a book, sighs, and goes up reading.) 
 
 Enter James, l. i e. 
 
54 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Sir H. You perceive ? Quite unused to society — perfectly 
 ignorant of every conventional rule of life. 
 
 James. The doctor and the young ladies have arrived. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
 (Daz. takes Span, by the nape of the neck and drags him off 
 l. ie., crossing from r.) 
 
 DANCE music off L. 
 
 Max. The young ladies — now we must go to the hall — I 
 make it a rule always to commence the festivities with a good 
 old country dance — a rattling Sir Roger de Coverly; come, 
 Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Sir H. Does this antiquity require a war-whoop in it? 
 
 Max (a). Nothing but a nimble foot and a light heart. 
 
 Sir H. Very antediluvian indispensables ! Lady Gay Spanker, 
 will you honor me by becoming my preceptor ? 
 
 Lady G. Why, I am engaged — but on such a plea as Sir 
 Harcourt' s, I must waive all obstacles. 
 
 (Gives her hand.) 
 
 M^x. Now, Grace, girl — give your hand to Mr. Courtly. 
 
 Grace (sitting a). Pray, excuse me, uncle — I have a 
 headache. 
 
 Sir H. (aside l. c, leading Lady G.). Jealousy ! by the 
 gods. Jealous of my devotions at another's fane ! (Aloud.) 
 Charles, my boy ! amuse Miss Grace during our absence. 
 
 Exit with Lady G., l. i e. 
 
 Max (l.). But don't you dance, Mr. Courtly? 
 
 Young C. (r.). Dance, sir ! — I never dance — I can pro- 
 cure exercise in a much more rational manner — and music 
 disturbs my meditations. 
 
 Max. Well, do the gallant. 
 
 Young C. I never studied that art — but I have a Prize 
 Essay on a hydrostatic subject, which would delight her — for 
 it enchanted the Reverend Doctor Pump, of Corpus Christi. 
 
 Max. Oh, Pump ! 
 
 Exit, l. u. E. 
 Grace (aside). What on earth could have induced him to 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 55 
 
 disfigure himself in that frightful way ! — I rather suspect some 
 plot to entrap me into a confession. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Dare I confess this trick to her ? No ! 
 Not until I have proved her affection indisputably. Let me 
 see, I must concoct. {Takes a chair, and forgetting his as- 
 sumed character, is about to take his natural free manner. 
 Grace looks surprised. He turns abashed.) Madam, I have 
 been desired to amuse you. 
 
 Grace. Thank you. 
 
 Young C. " The labor we delight in, physics pain." I will 
 draw you a moral, ahem ! Subject, the effects of inebriety ! — 
 which, according to Ben Jonson — means perplexion of the in- 
 tellects, caused by imbibing spirituous liquors. About an hour 
 before my arrival, I passed an appalling evidence of the effects 
 of this state — a carriage was overthrown — horses killed — gentle- 
 man in a hopeless state, with his neck broken — all occasioned 
 by the intoxication of the post-boy. 
 
 (Takes Grace's handkerchief out of his pocket where he put it 
 in his scene with her in the previous act, and wipes his eyes. 
 In so doing Grace recognizes her handkerchief. Young 
 C. sees the discovery immediately and puts the handker- 
 chief under him as soon as possible.} 
 
 Grace. That is very amusing. 
 
 Young C. I found it edifying — nutritious food for reflec- 
 tion — the expiring man desired his best compliments to you. 
 Grace. To me? (She rises.) 
 Young C. Yes. 
 
 Grace. His name was 
 
 Young C. Mr. Augustus Hamilton. 
 Grace. Augustus ! Oh ! 
 
 (Affects to faint, sinking back on the ottoman.) 
 
 Young C. (aside). Huzza ! She loves me ! 
 Grace. But where, sir, did this happen ? 
 Young C. About four miles down the road. 
 Grace. He must be conveyed here. 
 
 READY waltz music outside* 
 Enter James, r. u. e. 
 James. Mr. Meddle, madam. 
 
 Exit, R. u. E. 
 
56 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Enter Med., r. u. e. 
 
 Med. On very particular business. 
 
 Grace. The very person. My dear sir ! 
 
 Med. (l.). My dear madam ! (Young C. crosses to r.) 
 
 Grace (a). You must execute a very particular commis- 
 sion for me immediately. Mr. Hamilton has met with a 
 frightful accident on the London Road, and is in a dying 
 state. 
 
 Med. Well ! I have no hesitation in saying, he takes it 
 uncommonly easy — he looks as if he was used to it. 
 
 Grace. You mistake ; that is not Mr. Hamilton, but Mr. 
 Courtly, who will explain everything, and conduct you to the 
 spot. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Oh ! I must put a stop to all this, or I 
 shall be found out. {Aloud.) Madam, that were useless, for 
 I omitted to mention a small fact which occurred before I left 
 Mr. Hamilton — he died. 
 
 Grace. He died ? 
 
 Young C. He did. 
 
 Grace. He did ? 
 
 Young C. Dead ! 
 
 WALTZ heard outside. 
 
 Grace. Dear me ! Oh, then we needn't trouble you, Mr. 
 Meddle. Hark ! I hear they are commencing a waltz — if you 
 will ask me — perhaps a turn or two in the dance may tend to 
 dispel the dreadful sensations you have aroused. 
 
 Young C. {aside). Hears of my death — screams out — and 
 then asks me to waltz ! I am bewildered ! Can she suspect 
 me ? I wonder which she likes best — me or my double ? Con- 
 found this disguise — I must retain it — I have gone too far with 
 my dad to pull up now. (Aloud.) At your service, madam. 
 
 (He crosses behind to l. and offers his hand.) 
 
 Grace (aside). I will pay him well for this trick ! (Aloud.) 
 Ah, poor Augustus Hamilton ! 
 
 Exeunt, l., all but Med. 
 
 Med. Well, if that is not Mr. Hamilton, scratch me out 
 with a big blade, for I am a blot — a mistake upon the rolls. 
 There is an error in the pleadings somewhere, and I will dis- 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 5/ 
 
 cover it. I would swear to his identity before the most dis- 
 criminating jury. By the by, this accident will form a capital 
 excuse for my presence here. I just stepped in to see how 
 matters worked, and — stay — here comes the bridegroom elect — 
 and, oh ! in his very arms, Lady Gay Spanker ! {Looks 
 round.) Where are my witnesses? Oh, that some one else 
 were here ! However I can retire and get some information, 
 eh — Spanker versus Courtly — damages — witness. 
 
 {Gets into an armchair, which he turns round, back to audi- 
 ence and is well out of sight.) 
 
 Enter Sir H., supporting Lady G., l. u. e. 
 
 MUSIC changes to Sir Roger de Cover ly* 
 
 Sir H. This cool room will recover you. 
 Lady G. Excuse my trusting to you for support. 
 Sir H. I am transported ! Allow me thus ever to support 
 this lovely burden, and I shall conceive that Paradise is regained. 
 
 (They sit on sofa at l. Sir H. at r. of Lady G.) 
 
 Lady G. Oh ! Sir Harcourt, I feel very faint. 
 Sir H. The waltz made you giddy. 
 Lady G. And I have left my salts in the other room. 
 Sir H. I always carry a flacon, for the express accommo- 
 dation of the fair sex. 
 
 {Produces a smelling-bottle.') 
 
 Lady G. Thank you — ah ! {She sighs.) 
 
 Sir H. What a sigh was there ! 
 
 Lady G. The vapor of consuming grief. 
 
 Sir H. Is it possible ! Have you a grief? Are you un- 
 happy ? Dear me ! 
 
 Lady G. Am I not married ? 
 
 Sir H. What a horrible state of existence ! 
 
 Lady G. I am never contradicted, so there are none of 
 those enlivening, interesting little differences, which so pleas- 
 ingly diversify the monotony of conjugal life, like spots of 
 verdure — no quarrels, like oases in the desert of matrimony — 
 no rows. 
 
 Sir H. How vulgar ! what a brute ! 
 
 Lady G. I never have anything but my own way ; and he 
 won't permit me to spend more than I like. 
 
58 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Sir H. Mean-spirited wretch ! 
 
 Lady G. How can I help being miserable ? 
 
 Sir H. Miserable ! I wonder you are not in a lunatic 
 asylum, with such unheard-of barbarity ! 
 
 Lady G. But worse than all that ! 
 
 Sir H. Can it be out-Heroded? 
 
 Lady G. Yes, I could forgive that — I do — it is my duty. 
 But only imagine — picture to yourself, my dear Sir Harcourt, 
 though I, the third daughter of an Earl, married him out of 
 pity for his destitute and helpless situation as a bachelor with 
 ten thousand a year — conceive, if you can — he actually per- 
 mits me, with the most placid indifference, to flirt with any old 
 fool I may meet. 
 
 Sir H. Good gracious ! miserable idiot ! 
 
 Lady G. I fear there is an incompatibility of temper, which 
 renders a separation inevitable. 
 
 Sir H. Indispensable, my dear madam ! Ah ! had I been 
 the happy possessor of such a realm of bliss — what a beatific 
 eternity unfolds itself to my extending imagination ! Had 
 another man but looked at you, I should have annihilated him 
 at once ; and if he had the temerity to speak, his life alone 
 could have expiated his crime. 
 
 Lady G. Oh, an existence of such a nature is too bright 
 for the eye of thought — too sweet to bear reflection. 
 
 Sir H. My devotion, eternal, deep 
 
 Lady G. Oh, Sir Harcourt ! 
 
 Sir H. (more fervently). Your every thought should be a 
 separate study — each wish forestalled by the quick apprehension 
 of a kindred soul. 
 
 Lady G. Alas ! how can I avoid my fate ? 
 
 Sir H. If a life — a heart — were offered to your astonished 
 view by one who is considered the index of fashion — the vane 
 of the beau monde — if you saw him at your feet begging, be- 
 seeching your acceptance of all, and more than this, what 
 would your answer 
 
 Lady G. Ah ! I know of none so devoted ! 
 
 Sir H. You do ! {Throws himself upon his knees.) Be- 
 hold Sir Harcourt Courtly ! 
 
 MUSIC stops. 
 
 (Med. jumps up into the chair and writes in his memorandum 
 
 book.) 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 59 
 
 Lady G. {aside). Ha ! ha ! Yoicks ! Puss has broken 
 cover. (Med. sits again.) 
 
 Sir H. Speak, adored, dearest Lady Gay ! — speak — will 
 you fly from the tyranny, the wretched misery of such a 
 monster's roof, and accept the soul which lives but in your 
 presence ! 
 
 Lady G. Do not press me. Oh, spare a weak, yielding 
 woman — be contented to know that you are, alas ! too dear to 
 me. But the world — the world would say 
 
 Sir H. Let us be a precedent to open a more extended and 
 liberal view of matrimonial advantages to society. 
 
 Lady G. How irresistible is your argument ! Oh ! pause \ 
 
 {They put their chairs back.) 
 
 Sir H. I have ascertained for a fact, that every tradesman 
 of mine lives with his wife, and thus you see it has become a 
 vulgar and plebeian custom. 
 
 Lady G. Leave me ; I feel I cannot withstand your powers 
 of persuasion. Swear that you will never forsake me. 
 
 Sir H. Dictate the oath. May I grow wrinkled — may two 
 inches be added to the circumference of my waist — may I lose 
 the fall in my back — may I be old and ugly the instant I forego 
 one tithe of adoration ! 
 
 Lady G. I must believe you. 
 
 Sir H. Shall we leave this detestable spot — this horrible 
 vicinity? {Rises with Lady G.'s assistance.) 
 
 Lady G. The sooner the better ; to-morrow evening let it 
 be. Now let me return ; my absence will be remarked. {He 
 kisses her hand.) Do I appear confused? Has my agitation 
 rendered me unfit to enter the room ? 
 
 Sir H. More angelic by a lovely tinge of heightened color. 
 
 Lady G. To-morrow, in this room, which opens on the 
 lawn. 
 
 Sir H. At eleven o'clock. 
 
 Lady G. Have your carriage in waiting, and four horses. 
 Remember, please be particular to have four ; don't let the 
 affair come off shabbily. Adieu, dear Sir Harcourt ! 
 
 Exit, l. u. E. 
 
 Sir H. {marching pompously across the stage). Veni, vidi, 
 vici ! Hannibal, Caesar, Napoleon, Alexander never completed 
 so fair a conquest in so short a time. She dropped fascinated. 
 
60 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 This is an unprecedented example of the irresistible force of 
 personal appearance combined with polished address. Poor 
 creature ! how she loves me ! I pity so prostrating a passion, 
 and ought to return it. I will ; it is a duty I owe to society 
 and fashion. 
 
 Exit, l. u. E. 
 
 Med. {turning the chair round). " There is a tide in the 
 affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." 
 This is my tide — I am the only witness. "Virtue is sure to 
 find its own reward." But I've no time to contemplate what 
 it shall be — something huge. Let me see — Spanker versus 
 Courtly — Crim. Con. Damages placed at one hundred and 
 fifty thousand pounds at least, for juries always decimate your 
 hopes. 
 
 Enter Span., r. u. e. 
 
 Span. I cannot find Gay anywhere. 
 
 Med. The plaintiff himself — I must commence the action. 
 Mr. Spanker, as I have information of deep and vital importance 
 to impart, will you take a seat? (They sit solemnly. Med. 
 takes out a note-book and pencil.) Ahem ! You have a wife ? 
 
 Reenter Lady G., l. u. e. She crosses behind to r. door, 
 and listens. 
 
 Span. (r. a). Yes, I believe I 
 
 Med. (l. a). Will you be kind enough, without any pre- 
 varication, to answer my questions? 
 
 Span. You alarm — I 
 
 Med. Compose yourself and reserve your feelings; take 
 time to consider. You have a wife ? 
 
 Span. Yes 
 
 Med. He has a wife — good — a bona fide wife — bound mor- 
 ally and legally to be your wife, and nobody else's in effect, ex- 
 cept on your written permission 
 
 Span. But what has this 
 
 Med. Hush ! allow me, my dear sir, to congratulate you. 
 
 (Shakes his hand.) 
 
 Span. What for ? 
 
 Med. Lady Gay Spanker is about to dishonor the bond of 
 wedlock by eloping from you. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 6l 
 
 Span, (starting). What? 
 
 Med. (pushing him down again). I thought you would be 
 overjoyed. Place the affair in my hands, and I will venture to 
 promise the largest damages on record. 
 
 Span, (starting up ). Damn the damages ! — I want my 
 wife. Oh, I'll go and ask her not to run away. She may run 
 away with me — she may hunt — she may ride — anything she 
 likes. Oh, sir, let us put a stop to this affair. 
 
 Med. Put a stop to it ! do not alarm me, sir. Sir, you 
 will spoil the most exquisite brief that was ever penned. It 
 must proceed — it shall proceed. It is illegal to prevent it, and 
 I will bring an action against you for wilful intent to injure the 
 profession. 
 
 Span. Oh, what an ass I am ! Oh, I have driven her to 
 this. It was all that cursed brandy punch on the top of Bur- 
 gundy. What a fool I was ! 
 
 Med. It was the happiest moment of your life. 
 
 Span. So I thought at the time ; but we live to grow wiser. 
 Tell me, who is the vile seducer ? 
 
 Med. Sir Harcourt Courtly. 
 
 Span. Ha ! he is my best friend. 
 
 Med. I should think he is. Them's the fellows. If you 
 will accompany me — here is a verbatim copy of the whole 
 transaction in shorthand — sworn to by me. 
 
 Span. Only let me have Gay back again. 
 
 Med. Even that may be arranged — this way. 
 
 Span. That ever I should live to see my wife run away. 
 Oh, I will do anything — keep two packs of hounds — buy up 
 every horse and ass in England — myself included — oh ! 
 
 Exeunt Span, and Med., l. i e. 
 
 Lady G. (coming down). Ha ! ha ! ha ! Poor Dolly ! 
 I'm sorry I must continue to deceive him. If he would but 
 kindle up a little. So, that fellow overheard all — well, so much 
 the better. 
 
 Enter Young C, r. u. e. 
 
 Young C. (l.). My dear madam, how fares the plot? 
 Does my governor nibble ? 
 
 Lady G. (r.). Nibble ! he is caught and in the basket. I 
 have just left him with a hook in his gills, panting for very lack 
 of element. But how goes on your encounter ? 
 
62 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Young C. Bravely. By a simple ruse, I have discovered 
 that she loves me. I see but one chance against the best ter- 
 mination I could hope. 
 
 Lady G. What is it ? 
 
 Young C. My father has told me that I return to town 
 again to-morrow afternoon. 
 
 Lady G. Well, I insist you stop and dine — keep out of the 
 way. 
 
 Young C. Oh, but what excuse shall I offer for disobe- 
 dience ? What can I say when he sees me before dinner ? 
 
 Lady G. Say — say Grace. 
 
 Enter Grace, l. u. e., remaining up c., behind curtain. 
 
 Young C. Ha! ha! 
 
 Lady G. I have arranged to elope with Sir Harcourt myself 
 to-morrow night. 
 
 WARN curtain. 
 
 Young C. The deuce you have ! 
 
 Lady G. Now if you could persuade Grace to follow that 
 example — his carriage will be in waiting at the Park — be there 
 a little before eleven, and it will just prevent our escape. Can 
 you make her agree to that ? 
 
 Young C. Oh, without the slightest difficulty, if Mr. Au- 
 gustus Hamilton supplicates. 
 
 Lady G. Success attend you. {Goes r. i e.) 
 
 Young C. I will bend the haughty Grace. {Goes l. i e.) 
 
 Lady G. Do. 
 
 Exeunt severally. 
 
 RING curtain, 
 Grace (emerging from curtain at back). Will you ? 
 
 QUICK CURTAIN 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 63 
 
 ACTV 
 Scene. — The same. 
 
 Enter Cool., r. u. e. 
 
 Cool. This is the most serious affair Sir Harcourt has ever 
 been engaged in. I took the liberty of considering him a fool 
 when he told me he was going to marry ; but voluntarily to 
 incur another man's incumbrance is very little short of mad- 
 ness. If he continues to conduct himself in this absurd manner, 
 I shall be compelled to dismiss him. 
 
 Enter Sir H., l. u. e., equipped for traveling. 
 
 SirH. (l.). Cool! 
 
 Cool (r.). Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Sir H. Is my chariot in waiting ? 
 
 Cool. For the last half hour at the park wicket. But, 
 pardon the insinuation, sir ; would it not be more advisable to 
 hesitate a little for a short reflection before you undertake the 
 heavy responsibility of a woman ? 
 
 Sir H. (to r.). No; hesitation destroys the romance of a 
 faux pas, and reduces it to the level of a mere mercantile calcu- 
 lation. 
 
 Cool (to l.). What is to be done with Mr. Charles? 
 
 Sir H. Ay, much against my will, Lady Gay prevailed on 
 me to permit him to remain. You, Cool, must return him to 
 college. Pass through London, and deliver these papers; 
 here is a small notice of the coming elopement for the morning 
 Post; this, by an eye-witness, for the Herald ; this, with all 
 the particulars, for the Chronicle ; and the full and circum- 
 stantial account for the evening journals — after which, meet us 
 at Boulogne. 
 
 Cool. Very good, Sir Harcourt. (Goes l.) 
 
 Sir H. Lose no time. Remember — Hotel Anglais, Bou- 
 logne-sur-Mer. And, Cool, bring a few copies with you, and 
 don't forget to distribute some amongst my very particular 
 friends. 
 
64 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Cool. It shall be done. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 Enter Lady G., r. 
 
 Lady G. (r.). Sir Harcourt ! 
 
 Sir H. (l.). At your feet. 
 
 Lady G. I had hoped you would have repented. 
 
 Sir H. Repented ! 
 
 Lady G. Have you not come to say it was a jest? — say 
 you have ! 
 
 Sir H. Love is too sacred a subject to be trifled with. 
 Come, let us fly ! See, I have procured disguises 
 
 Lady G. My courage begins to fail me. Let me return. 
 
 Sir H. Impossible ! 
 
 Lady G. Where do you intend to take me ? 
 
 Sir H. You shall be my guide. The carriage waits. 
 
 Lady G. You will never desert me? 
 
 Sir H. Desert ! Oh, heavens ! Nay, do not hesitate — 
 flight, now, alone is left to your desperate situation ! Come, 
 every moment is laden with danger. {They are going R.) 
 
 Lady G. Oh ! gracious ! 
 
 Sir H. Hush ! what is it ? 
 
 Lady G. I have forgotten — I must return. 
 
 Sir H. Impossible ! 
 
 Lady G. I must ! I must ! I have left Max — a pet stag- 
 hound, in his basket — without whom life would be unendurable 
 — I could not exist ! 
 
 Sir H. No, no. Let him be sent after us in a hamper. 
 
 Lady G. In a hamper ! Remorseless man ! Go — you 
 love me not. How would you like to be sent after me — in a 
 hamper ? Let me fetch him. Hark ! I hear him squeal ! 
 Oh ! Max— Max ! 
 
 Sir H. Hush ! for heaven's sake. They'll imagine you're 
 calling the 'Squire. I hear footsteps; where can I retire? 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
 Enter Med., Span., Daz., and Max, l. u. e.; Lady G. 
 
 screams. 
 
 Med. (l. a). Spanker versus Courtly ! — I subpoena every 
 one of you as witnesses ! — I have 'em ready — here they are — 
 shilling a-piece. {Gives them round.) 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 65 
 
 Lady G. (r. C.). Where is Sir Harcourt ? 
 
 Med. There ! — bear witness ! — she calls on the vile de- 
 linquent for protection ! 
 
 Span. (a). Oh ! his protection ! (Max. l. j Daz. up r.) 
 
 Lady G. What? ha! 
 
 Med. I'll swear I overheard the whole elopement planned — 
 before any jury ! — Where's the book? 
 
 Span, (to Lady G.). Do you hear, you profligate? 
 
 Lady G. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Daz. (down r.). But where is this wretched Lothario ? 
 
 Med. Ay, where is the defendant ? 
 
 Span. Where lies the hoary villain ? 
 
 Lady G. What villain ? 
 
 Span. That will not serve you ! — I'll not be blinded that 
 way ! 
 
 Med. We won't be blinded any way ! 
 
 Max. I must seek Sir Harcourt, and demand an explana- 
 tion ! Such a thing never occurred in Oak Hall before — it 
 must be cleared up ! 
 
 Exit, R. 
 
 Med. (aside to Span.). Now, take my advice; remember 
 your gender. Mind the notes I have given you. 
 
 Span. (l. c, aside). All right ! Here they are ! Now, 
 madam, I have procured the highest legal opinion on this 
 point. 
 
 Med. (l.). Hear ! hear ! 
 
 Span. And the question resolves itself into a — into — what's 
 this? (Looks at notes.) 
 
 Med. A nutshell ! 
 
 Span. Yes, we are in a nutshell. Will you, in every re- 
 spect, subscribe to my requests — desires — commands — (looks 
 at notes) — orders — imperative — indicative — injunctive — or 
 otherwise ? 
 
 Lady G. (aside). 'Pon my life, he's actually going to as- 
 sume the ribbons, and take the box-seat. I must put a stop to 
 this. I will ! It will all end in smoke. I know Sir Harcourt 
 would rather run than fight. (Goes up stage.) 
 
 Daz. (r.). Oh, I smell powder. (To Lady G.) Com- 
 mand my services. My dear madam, can I be of any use ? 
 
 Span. Oh ! a challenge ! I must consult my legal adviser. 
 
 Med. No ! impossible ! (Crosses R. c.) 
 
 Daz. Pooh ! the easiest thing in life ! Leave it to me. 
 
66 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 What has an attorney to do with affairs of honor ? — they are 
 out of his element. 
 
 Med. Compromise the question ! Pull his nose ! — we have 
 no objection to that. 
 
 Daz. {turning to Lady G.). Well, we have no objection 
 either — have we ? 
 
 Lady G. No ! — pull his nose — that will be something. 
 
 Med. And, moreover, it is not exactly actionable ! 
 
 Daz. Isn't it ! — thank you — I'll note down that piece of 
 information — it may be useful. 
 
 Med. How ! cheated out of my legal knowledge ? 
 
 {Crosses to Daz. who signifies he will pull his nose ; Med. 
 hastily gets back to l.) 
 
 Lady G. {crossing to l. a). Mr. Spanker, I am deter- 
 mined ! — I insist upon a challenge being sent to Sir Harcourt 
 Courtly ! — and — mark me — if you refuse to fight him — I will. 
 
 Med. Don't; take my advice you'll incapacit 
 
 Lady G. Look you, Mr. Meddle, unless you wish me to 
 horsewhip you, hold your tongue. 
 
 Med. I have no hesitation in saying and I say it boldly 
 (Lady G. turns on him suddenly), that I am wanted in the 
 next room. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
 Lady G. Mr. Spanker, oblige me by writing as I dictate. 
 
 Span, {looking after Med.). Don't go ! He's gone — and 
 now 1 am defenseless. Is this the fate of husbands ? A duel ! 
 Is this the result of being master of my own family ? 
 
 Lady G. Come, Dolly. 
 
 Span. Don't Dolly me ! I won't be Dollied. 
 
 {Sits l. c. Daz. wheels him round to l. table, sits on the arm 
 of the chair and gives him pen, etc.) 
 
 Lady G. {dictating). " Sir, the situation in which you were 
 discovered with my wife " 
 
 Daz. {repeating after Lady G. as Span, writes). "With 
 my wife." 
 
 Span, {angrily). Your wife ! 
 
 Daz. No, no. Your wife. 
 
 Lady G. {still dictating). "Admits of neither explanation 
 nor apology." 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 67 
 
 Span. Oh, yes ! but it does — I don't believe you really in- 
 tended to run quite away. 
 
 Lady G. You do not, but I know better ; I say I did, and 
 if it had not been for your unfortunate interruption, I do not 
 know where I might have been by this time. Go on. 
 
 Span. ' ' Nor apology. ' ' 
 
 (Rises and whispers in Daz.'s ear.) 
 
 Daz. Apology ? Oh ! one p. 
 
 Span. I'm writing my own death-warrant — committing sui- 
 cide on compulsion. 
 
 Lady G. "The bearer will arrange all preliminary " 
 
 Span. Premilliary 
 
 Lady G. " Matters, for another day must see this sacrilege 
 expiated by your life or that of " 
 
 Span. Or that of the bearer ? 
 
 Lady G. No. "Yours very sincerely, Dolly Spanker." 
 
 Span, {with dignity). Adolphus Spanker. 
 
 Lady G. Now, Mr. Dazzle. 
 
 (Gives the letter over Span.'s head.) 
 
 Daz. The document is as sacred as if it were a hundred 
 pound bill. 
 
 Lady G. We trust to your discretion. 
 
 Span. His discretion ! Oh, put your head in a tiger's 
 mouth, and trust to his discretion ! 
 
 Daz. (folding the letter and sealing it with Span.'s seal, 
 dragging Span, forward to use it from his fob chain). My 
 dear Lady Gay, matters of this kind are indigenous to my 
 nature, independently of their pervading fascination to all 
 humanity ; but this is the more especially delightful, as you 
 may perceive I shall be the intimate and bosom friend of both 
 parties. (Span, down r.) 
 
 Lady G. (c. ). Is it not the only alternative in such a case? 
 
 Daz. (l.). It is a beautiful panacea in any, in every case. 
 (Going, returns.) By the way, where would you like this 
 party of pleasure to come off? Open air shooting is pleasant 
 enough, but if I might venture to advise, we could order half- 
 a-dozen of that Madeira and a box of cigars into the billiard 
 room, to make a night of it. Take up the irons every now 
 and then ; string for first shot, and blaze away at one another 
 in an amicable and gentlemanlike way ; so conclude the matter 
 
 
68 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 before the potency of the liquor could disturb the individualit/ 
 of the object, or the smoke of the cigars render the outline 
 dubious. Does such an arrangement coincide with your views ? 
 
 Lady G. Perfectly. 
 
 Daz. I trust shortly to be the harbinger of happy tidings. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
 Span, {crossing). Lady Gay Spanker, are you ambitious 
 of becoming a widow ? 
 
 Lady G. Why, Dolly, woman is at best but weak, and 
 weeds become me. 
 
 Span. Female ! am I to be immolated on the altar of your 
 vanity ? 
 
 Lady G. If you become pathetic, I shall laugh. 
 
 Span. You are laughing ! Farewell — base, heartless, un- 
 feeling woman ! 
 
 Exit, L. U. E. 
 
 Lady G. Ha ! well, so I am. I am heartless, for he is a 
 dear, good little fellow, and I ought not to play upon his feelings ; 
 but 'pon my life he sounds so well up at concert pitch, that I 
 feel disinclined to untune him. Poor Doll, I didn't think he 
 cared so much about me. I will put him out of pain. 
 
 Exit, l. u. E. 
 
 Enter Sir H., l. i e. 
 
 Sir H. I have been a fool ! a dupe to my own vanity. I 
 shall be pointed at as a ridiculous old coxcomb — and so I am. 
 The hour of conviction is arrived. Have I deceived myself? 
 Have I turned all my senses inward — looking toward self — 
 always self? — and has the world been ever laughing at me? 
 Well, if they have, I will revert the joke ; they may say I am an 
 old ass ; but I will prove that I am neither too old to repent 
 my folly, nor such an ass as to flinch from confessing it. A 
 blow half met is but half felt. 
 
 Enter Daz., l. i e. 
 
 Daz. Sir Harcourt, may I be permitted the honor of a few 
 minutes' conversation with you ? 
 Sir H. With pleasure. 
 Daz. Have the kindness to throw your eye over that. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 69 
 
 {Gives letter.} 
 
 Sir H. (reading). " Situation — my wife — apology — expiate 
 — my life." Why, this is intended for a challenge. 
 
 Daz. Why, indeed, I am perfectly aware that it is not quite 
 en regie in the couching, for with that I had nothing to do ; 
 but I trust that the irregularity of the composition will be con- 
 founded in the beauty of the subject. 
 
 Sir H. Mr. Dazzle, are you in earnest ? 
 
 Daz. Sir Harcourt Courtly, upon my honor I am, and I 
 hope that no previous engagement will interfere with an imme- 
 diate reply in propria persona. We have fixed upon the 
 billiard room as the scene of action, which I have just seen 
 properly illuminated in honor of the occasion ; and, by the 
 bye, if your implements are not handy, I can oblige you with 
 a pair of the sweetest things you ever handled — hair -triggered 
 — saw grip ; heirlooms in my family. I regard them almost in 
 the light of relations. 
 
 Sir H. Sir, I shall avail myself of one of your relatives. 
 {Aside.') One of the hereditaments of my folly — I must accept 
 it. {Aloud.) Sir, I shall be happy to meet Mr. Spanker at 
 any time or place he may appoint. 
 
 Daz. The sooner the better, sir. Allow me to offer you 
 my arm. I see you understand these matters; — my friend 
 Spanker is wofully ignorant — miserably uneducated. 
 
 Exeunt, l. u. e. 
 
 READY pistols* 
 Reenter Max with Grace, r. u. e. 
 
 Max (l.). Give ye joy, girl, give ye joy. Sir Harcourt 
 Courtly must consent to waive all title to your hand in favor 
 of his son Charles. 
 
 Grace (r.). Oh, indeed ! Is that the pitch of your con- 
 gratulation — humph ! the exchange of an old fool for a young 
 one ? Pardon me if I am not able to distinguish the advan- 
 tage. 
 
 Max. Advantage ! 
 
 Grace. Moreover, by what right am I a transferable cipher 
 in the family of Courtly ? So, then, my fate is reduced to 
 this, to sacrifice my fortune, or unite myself with a worm-eaten 
 edition of the Classics ! 
 
 Max. Why, he certainly is not such a fellow as I could have 
 
JO LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 chosen for my little Grace ; but consider, to retain fifteen thou- 
 sand a year ! Now, tell me honestly — but why should I say 
 honestly ? Speak, girl, would you rather not have the lad ? 
 
 Grace. Why do you ask me? 
 
 Max. Why, look ye, I'm an old fellow; another hunting 
 season or two, and I shall be in at my own death — I can't 
 leave you this house and land, because they are entailed, nor 
 can I say I am sorry for it, for it is a good law ; but I have a 
 little box with my Grace's name upon it, where, since your 
 father's death and miserly will, I have yearly placed a certain 
 sum to be yours, should you refuse to fulfil the conditions 
 prescribed. 
 
 Grace. My own dear uncle ! {Clasps him round the neck.) 
 
 Max. Pooh ! pooh ! what's to do now? Why, it was only 
 a trifle — why, you little rogue, what are you crying about ? 
 
 Grace. Nothing, but 
 
 Max. But what? Come, out with it. Will you have 
 young Courtly? 
 
 Reenter Lady G., l. u. e. 
 
 Lady G. Oh ! Max, Max ! 
 
 Max. Why, what's amiss with you ? 
 
 Lady G. I'm a wicked woman ! 
 
 Max. What have you done ? 
 
 Lady G. Everything ! oh, I thought Sir Harcourt was a 
 coward, but now I find that a man may be a coxcomb without 
 being a poltroon. Just to show my husband how inconvenient 
 it is to hold the ribbons sometimes, I made him send a chal- 
 lenge to the old fellow, and he, to my surprise, accepted it, and 
 is going to blow my Dolly's brains out in the billiard room. 
 
 Max. The devil ! 
 
 Lady G. Just when I imagined I had got my whip hand of 
 him again, out comes my linch-pin — and over I go — oh ! 
 
 Max. I will soon put a stop to that — a duel under my 
 roof ! Murder in Oak Hall ! I'll shoot them both ! 
 
 Exit, l. u. E. 
 
 Grace. Are you really in earnest ? 
 
 Lady G. Do you think it looks like a joke ? Oh ! Dolly, 
 if you allow yourself to be shot, I will never forgive you — 
 never ! Ah, he is a great fool, Grace ! but I can't tell why, 
 I would sooner lose my bridle hand than he should be hurt on 
 my account. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 7 1 
 
 PISTOLS heard off L, 
 Enter Sir H., l. i e. 
 
 Tell me — tell me — have you shot him — is he dead — my dear 
 Sir Harcourt ! You horrid old brute — have you killed him ? 
 I shall never forgive myself. 
 
 Exit, L. I E. 
 
 Grace (r.). Oh ! Sir Harcourt, what has happened ? 
 
 Sir H. (l.). Don't be alarmed, I beg — your uncle inter- 
 rupted us — discharged the weapons — locked the challenger up 
 in the billiard room to cool his rage. 
 
 Grace. Thank heaven ! 
 
 Sir H. Miss Grace, to apologize for my conduct were use- 
 less, more especially as I am confident that no feelings of indig- 
 nation or sorrow for my late acts are cherished by you ; but 
 still, reparation is in my power, and I not only waive all 
 title, right, or claim to your person or your fortune, but freely 
 admit your power to bestow them on a more worthy object. 
 
 Grace. This generosity, Sir Harcourt, is most unexpected. 
 
 Sir H. No, not generosity, but simply justice, justice ! 
 
 Grace. May I still beg a favor ? 
 
 Sir H. Claim anything that is mine to grant. 
 
 Grace. You have been duped by Lady Gay Spanker. 
 
 Sir H. (aside). Ahem ! 
 
 Grace. I have also been cheated and played upon by her 
 and Mr. Hamilton — may I beg that the contract between us 
 may, to all appearance, be still held good ? 
 
 Sir H. Certainly, although I confess I cannot see the point 
 of your purpose. 
 
 Enter Max, with Young C, l. u. e. 
 
 Max (l.). Now, Grace, I have brought the lad. 
 
 Grace (r.). Thank you, uncle, but the trouble was quite 
 unnecessary — Sir Harcourt holds to his original contract. 
 
 Max. The deuce he does ! 
 
 Grace. And I am willing — nay, eager, to become Lady 
 Courtly. 
 
 Young C. (r. c, aside). The deuce you are ! 
 
 Max. But, Sir Harcourt 
 
 Sir H. (a). One word, Max, for an instant. 
 
 (They retire, off R.) 
 
72 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Young C. (aside). What can this mean? Can it be pos- 
 sible that I have been mistaken — that she is not in love with 
 Augustus Hamilton ? 
 
 Grace (to c, aside). Now we shall find how he intends to 
 bend the haughty Grace. 
 
 Young C. (to her). Madam — miss, I mean — are you really 
 in earnest — are you in love with my father ? 
 
 Grace. No, indeed I am not. 
 
 Young C. Are you in love with any one else ? 
 
 Grace. No, or I should not marry him. 
 
 Young C. Then you actually accept him as your hus- 
 band ? 
 
 Grace. In the common acceptation of the word. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Hang me if I have not been a pretty 
 fool ! (Aloud.) Why do you marry him, if you don't care 
 about him ? 
 
 Grace. To save my fortune. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Mercenary, cold-hearted girl ! {Aloud.) 
 Were you never in love ? 
 
 Grace. Never ! 
 
 Young C. (aside). Oh ! what an ass I've been ! (Aloud.) 
 I heard Lady Gay mention something about a Mr. Hamilton. 
 
 Grace. Ah, yes, a person who, after an acquaintanceship 
 of two days, had the assurance to make love to me, and I 
 
 Young C. Yes — you — well ? 
 
 Grace. I pretended to receive his attentions. 
 
 Young C. (aside). It was the best pretense I ever saw. 
 
 Grace. An absurd, vain, conceited coxcomb, who appeared 
 to imagine that I was so struck with his fulsome speech that he 
 could turn me around his finger. 
 
 Young C. (aside). My very thoughts ! 
 
 Grace. But he was mistaken. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Confoundedly ! (Aloud.) Yet you 
 seemed rather concerned about the news of his death. 
 
 Grace. His accident ? No, but 
 
 Young C. But what ? 
 
 Grace (aside). What can I say? (Aloud.) Ah! but my 
 maid Pert's brother is a post-boy, and I thought he might have 
 sustained an injury, poor boy. 
 
 Young C. (aside). Curse the post-boy ! (Aloud.) Madam, 
 if the retention of your fortune be the plea on which you are 
 about to bestow your hand on one you do not love, and whose 
 very actions speak his carelessness for that inestimable jewel he 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 73 
 
 is incapable of appreciating — know that I am devotedly, madly 
 attached to you. 
 
 Grace (r. a). You, sir? Impossible! 
 
 Young C. (l. a). Not at all — but inevitable — I have been 
 so for a long time. 
 
 Grace. Why, you never saw me until last night. 
 
 Young C. I have seen you in imagination — you are the 
 ideal I have worshipped. 
 
 Grace. Since you press me into a confession — which noth- 
 ing but this could bring me to speak — know, I did love poor 
 Augustus Hamilton — (reenter Max and Sir H., l. u. e.) 
 but he — he is — no — more ! Pray, spare me, sir. 
 
 Young C. (aside). She loves me ! And, oh ! here's my 
 governor again ! What a situation I am in. What is to be 
 done? 
 
 Enter Lady G., l. i e. 
 
 Lady G. Where have you put my Dolly ? I have been 
 racing all round the house — tell me, is he quite dead ? 
 Max. I'll have his body brought in. 
 
 Exit, l. 
 
 Sir H. (r.). My dear madam, you must perceive this un- 
 fortunate occurrence was no fault of mine. I was compelled to 
 act as I have done — I was willing to offer any apology, but that 
 resource was excluded as unacceptable. 
 
 Lady G. I know — I know — 'twas I made him write that 
 letter — there was no apology required — 'twas I that apparently 
 seduced you from the paths of propriety — 'twas all a joke, and 
 here is the end of it. (Enter Max, Span., and Daz., l.) 
 Oh ! if he had but lived to say, " I forgive you, Gay ! " 
 
 Span. So I do ! 
 
 Lady G. {seeing Span.). Ah ! he is alive ! 
 
 Span. Of course I am ! 
 
 Lady G. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ( Catches Span, in her arms and 
 swings him round, taking him completely off his feet.) I will 
 never hunt again — unless you wish it. Sell your stable 
 
 Span. No, no, — do what you like — say what you like for 
 the future ! I find the head of a family has less ease and more 
 responsibility than I, as a member, could have anticipated. I 
 abdicate ! 
 
 {They go up l., his arm round her waist, hers on his shoulder. 
 Daz. up r.) 
 
74 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Enter Cool, l. i e. 
 
 Sir H. (l. a). Ah! Cool, here ! (Aside to Cool.) You 
 may destroy those papers — I have altered my mind, and I do 
 not intend to elope at present. Where are they ? 
 
 Cool (l.). As you seemed particular, Sir Harcourt, I sent 
 them off by the mail to London. 
 
 Sir H. Why, then, a full description of the whole affair 
 will be published to-morrow. 
 
 Cool. Most irretrievably ! 
 
 Sir H. You must post to town immediately, and stop the 
 press. 
 
 Cool. Beg pardon — but they would see me hanged first, 
 Sir Harcourt ; they don't frequently meet with such a profitable 
 lie. 
 
 James {without). No, sir ! no, sir ! (Enter James, l. i e.) 
 Sir, there's a gentleman, who calls himself Mr. Solomon Isaacs, 
 insists upon following me up. 
 
 Exit, l. 
 Enter Mr. Solomon Isaacs, l. i e. 
 
 Isaacs. Mr. Courtly, you will excuse my performance of a 
 most disagreeable duty at any time, but more especially in such 
 a manner. I must beg the honor of your company to town. 
 
 Sir H. What ! how ! what for ? 
 
 Isaacs (l. a). For debt, Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Sir H. (a). Arrested? impossible! Here must be some 
 mistake. 
 
 Isaacs. Not the slightest, sir. Judgment has been given in 
 five cases, for the last three months ; but Mr. Courtly is an eel 
 rather too nimble for my men. We have been on his track, 
 and traced him down to this village, with Mr. Dazzle. 
 
 Daz. (down r.). Ah! Isaacs! how are you? How are 
 Mrs. I. and all the little I.'s? 
 
 Lady G. 
 Daz. Span. 
 
 Cool. 
 Young C. Sir H. 
 
 Grace. Isaacs, 
 
 r. L. 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE ?$ 
 
 Isaacs (l.). Thank you, sir. (Speaks to Sir H.) 
 
 Max (r.). Do you know him ? 
 
 Daz. Oh, intimately ! Distantly related to his family — 
 same arms on our escutcheon — empty purse falling through 
 a hole in a pocket; motto, " Reqiescat in pace" — which 
 means, "Let virtue be its own reward." 
 
 Sir H. (l. c, to Isaacs). Oh, I thought there was a mistake ! 
 Know to your misfortune, that Mr. Hamilton was the person 
 you dogged to Oak Hall, between whom and my son a most 
 remarkable likeness exists. 
 
 Isaacs. Ha ! ha ! Know to your misfortune, Sir Harcourt, 
 that Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Courtly are one and the same 
 person ! 
 
 Sir H. Charles ! 
 
 Young C. (up a). Concealment is in vain — I am Augustus 
 Hamilton. 
 
 Sir H. Hang me if I didn't think it all along ! Oh, you 
 infernal cozening dog ! (Crosses to him.) 
 
 Isaacs. Now, then, Mr. Courtly 
 
 Grace (coming down r.). Stay, sir — Mr. Charles Courtly 
 is under age — ask his father. 
 
 Sir H. Ahem ! — I won't — I won't pay a shilling of the 
 rascal's debts — not a sixpence ! 
 
 Grace. Then I will — you may retire. 
 
 Exit Isaacs, l. i e. 
 
 Young C. I can now perceive the generous point of your 
 conduct toward me ; and, believe me, I appreciate, and will 
 endeavor to deserve it. 
 
 Max (coming a). Ha ! ha ! Come, Sir Harcourt, you 
 have been fairly beaten — you must forgive him — say you will. 
 
 (Goes up.) 
 
 Sir H. So, sir, it appears you have been leading, covertly, 
 an infernal town life ? 
 
 Young C. (a). Yes, please, father. 
 
 (Imitates Master Charles.) 
 
 Sir H. None of your humbug, sir ! (Aside.) He is my 
 own son — how could I expect him to keep out of the fire? 
 (Aloud.) And you, Mr. Cool ! — have you been deceiving 
 me? 
 
76 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 Cool (r.). Oh ! Sir Harcourt, if your perception was 
 played upon, how could / be expected to see ? 
 
 {Pause; he goes up and off l. i e.) 
 
 Sir H. Well, it would be useless to withhold my hand. 
 There, boy! {He gives his hand to Young C, l. Grace 
 comes down on the r. side and offers her hand; he takes it.) 
 What is all this ? What do you want ? 
 
 Young C. Your blessing, father. {Kneels.) 
 
 Grace. If you please, father. {Kneels.) 
 
 Sir H. Oho ! the mystery is being solved. So, so, you 
 young scoundrel, you have been making love — under the rose. 
 
 Lady G. (l. a). He learnt that from you, Sir Harcourt. 
 
 Sir H. Ahem ! What would you do now, if I were to 
 withhold my consent ? 
 
 Grace. Do without it. 
 
 Max {coming down). The will says, if Grace marries any 
 one but you, her property reverts to your heir-apparent — and 
 there he stands. 
 
 Lady G. Make a virtue of necessity. 
 
 Span. (r.). I married from inclination, and see how happy 
 I am. And if ever I have a son 
 
 Lady G. Hush ! Dolly, dear! 
 
 {Claps her hand over his mouth.) 
 
 Sir H. Well ! take her, boy ! Although you are too young 
 to marry. {They retire with Max.) 
 
 Lady G. 
 Daz. Span. 
 
 Young C. Grace. Sir H. Max. 
 
 Lady G. Am I forgiven, Sir Harcourt ? 
 
 Sir H. Ahem! Why — a {Aside.) Have you really 
 
 deceived me? 
 
 Lady G. Can you not see through this ? 
 
 Sir H. And you still love me ? 
 
 Lady G. As much as I ever did. 
 
 Sir H. {is about to kiss her hand, when Span, interposes 
 between them). A very handsome ring indeed. 
 
 Span. Very, and my money paid for it. 
 
 
LONDON ASSURANCE 77 
 
 {Puts her arm in his and they go up to Daz.) 
 
 Sir H. Poor little Spanker ! 
 
 Max (coming down l., aside to Sir H.). One point I wish 
 to have settled. Who is Mr. Dazzle ? 
 
 Sir H. (a). A relative of the Spankers, he told me. 
 
 Max. Oh, no, a near connection of yours. 
 
 Sir H. Never saw him before I came down here, in all my 
 life. (To Young C.) Charles, who is Mr. Dazzle? 
 
 Young C. Who? I don't know. Dazzle, Dazzle (Daz. 
 comes r.), will you excuse an impertinent question? 
 
 Daz. (r.). Certainly. 
 
 Young C. Who the deuce are you ? 
 
 Daz. I have not the remotest idea. 
 
 All. How, sir? 
 
 
 Lady G. 
 
 Young C. 
 
 Span 
 
 Grace. 
 
 
 SirH. 
 
 
 Max. 
 
 Daz. Simple question as you may think it, it would puzzle 
 half the world to answer. One thing I can vouch — Nature 
 made me a gentleman — that is, I live on the best that can be 
 procured for credit. I never spend my own money when I can 
 oblige a friend. I'm always thick on the winning horse. I'm 
 an epidemic on the trade of tailor. For further particulars 
 inquire of any sitting magistrate. 
 
 READY curtain. 
 
 Sir H. And these are the deeds which attest your title to 
 the name of gentlemen ? I perceive you have caught the in- 
 fection of the present age. Charles, permit me, as your father, 
 and you, sir, as his friend, to correct you on one point. Bare- 
 faced assurance is the vulgar substitute for gentlemanly ease ; 
 and there are many, who, by aping the vices of the great, 
 imagine that they elevate themselves to the rank of those, whose 
 faults alone they copy. No, sir ! The title of gentleman is 
 the only one out of any monarch's gift, yet within the reach of 
 every peasant. It should be engrossed by Truth — stamped 
 
78 
 
 LONDON ASSURANCE 
 
 with Honor — sealed with Good-feeling— signed Man — and 
 enrolled in every true and honest heart. 
 
 RING curtain. 
 SirH. 
 Daz. Young C. 
 
 Lady G. Grace. 
 
 Span. Max. 
 
 R. a l. 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
NEW PLAYS. 
 
 THE WEEPING WILLOWS, 
 
 A cMilttary Drama in Three Acts. 
 By BERNARD FRANCIS MOORE. 
 
 Nine male, four female characters. Scenery, two exteriors and an interior, 
 all very easy ; costumes modern and military. A stirring drama of the Civil 
 War, full of dramatic interest, with plenty of incident and abundant comedy. 
 The thrilling vicissitudes of the " secret service " are adroitly utilized in the 
 action, the battle of wits between Captain Dick Belmont and Captain Homer 
 Preston, and their opposed interests, both sentimental and political, compelling 
 the keenest sympathy. An excellent play for amateurs, playing a full evening. 
 
 PRICE 25 CENTS. 
 
 CHARACTERS- 
 
 (As originally produced by The Willard Club, of Chicago, at the Scandia 
 Theatre, November 18,1898.) 
 
 Gen. Jambs Preston, of the Confederate Army William J. Bourke. 
 
 Col. Bobebt Van Halen, of the Confederate Army . . . Francis J. Owens. 
 Capt. Homer Preston, a Union Cavalry Officer .... Benedict J. Short. 
 
 Capt.jSDick Belmont, a Confederate Guerilla Thomas H. Owens. 
 
 Capt. Edward Graham, of the Confederate Army Wm. R. Lynch. 
 
 Chester Brown, a young man from the North .... Stephen J. Wallace. 
 
 Texas Pete, a Union spy and Messenger Francis McDonough. 
 
 Johnson, an Orderly Francis M. Bernard. 
 
 Martin, a Confederate Drummer Boy Eugene Morrisey. 
 
 Edith Preston, the General's daughter Miss Nellie O'Connor. 
 
 Minnie Preston, the General's youngest Daughter . . Miss Lucy Gorman. 
 
 Ethel Wainwright, Homer's affianced wife Miss Annie Kilduff . 
 
 Sister Alice, an angel of mercy and Dick's deserted wife, Miss Clara Quinlan. 
 Confederate Soldiers. 
 
 Time : — During the Civil War. Place : — Virginia. 
 
 SYNOPSIS. 
 
 Act I. — Exterior of the Weeping Willow Plantation. Morning. The 
 serpent on the hearth. "Are all the Yankees as cheeky as you are?" 
 The spy. A warning. His life in his hands. A tell-tale letter. A deserted 
 wife. The accusation. Unmasked ! 
 
 Act II. — The General's Headquarters. Noon; Asking Pa. Infamous pro- 
 posals. A Roman father. The court martial. Treasonable papers. The sister 
 of mercy. The dead alive. A sad story. The counter charge. The decree 
 of the spy — death ! 
 
 Act HI. — The Weeping Willow Grove. Next morning. A legal murder. 
 A ride for life. Betrothed. "Me two." A quarrel. An escaped prisoner. 
 Good for evil. The wrong scent. The tie that binds. The appointed time. 
 The exchange. In the nick of time. 
 
 HER BUSY DAY 
 
 A Farce in One Act* 
 
 By JAMES R. CONDRIN. 
 
 Seven male, five female characters, many of which can be doubled by a 
 clever impersonator. Scene, a plain interior ; costumes, modern and character. 
 Avery funny piece depicting the troubles of an inexperienced housekeeper, 
 and introducing a great variety of humorous character and incident. May 
 serve not only as a straight farce, but as a vehicle for the introduction of 
 "specialties." Full of spice and snap, and broad fun. Recommended to 
 people looking for a lively play. Plays forty-five minutes. 
 
 PRICE J5 CENTS. 
 
NEW PLAYS 
 
 SUZETTE. 
 
 cA Farce Comedy in Three cAcis. 
 By BERNARD FRANCIS MOORE, 
 
 Five male, four female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior, 
 the same for all three acts. A very bustling and vivacious farce, after the 
 pooular pattern of this author's " Ferguson of Troy," and " The King of the 
 Philippines." " Suzette " is the same sort of lady that "Henrietta" was in 
 Bronson Howard's popular play, and creates, in her way, quite as much amuse- 
 ment. Recommended for laughing purposes only. Plays a full evening. 
 
 PRICE J5 CENTS. 
 
 CHARACTERS: 
 
 Joseph Bk adford, a member of the Stock Exchange. 
 
 Tom Blackmore, his partner. 
 
 Bob Bradford, Bradford's son. 
 
 Edwin Blackmore, Blackmore's son. 
 
 James, Bradford's servant. 
 
 Mrs. Archibald, Bradford's housekeeper. 
 
 Etta Bradford, Bradford's daughter. 
 
 Dora Blackmore, Tom's niece. 
 
 Matilda, the cook. 
 
 Time. — June. 
 
 Place. — Bradford's Summer Home on the Hudson. 
 
 Costumes. —Modern. 
 
 SYNOPSIS. 
 
 Act I. — Sensations ! A model butler. Heredity. A race war. Suzette on 
 the race track. Suzette in the stock market. Suzette on the stage. Suzette 
 breaks up a whole family. Who is Suzette ? 
 
 Act II. — Complications ! Suzette for breakfast. Suzette for luncheon. 
 Suzette for dinner. A game of cross purposes. Suzette takes a canter over the 
 course of true love. All coons look alike to Suzette. A general mix-up. 
 Suzette a winner all round. 
 
 Act. III. — Explanations ! Order out of chaos. Saving the situation. 
 Mrs. Archibald gets wise. All a mistake. Have a wife with me. Joseph and 
 Jane. Edwin and Etta. Dora and Bob. Tom left out. " Where do I come 
 in ? " '• Oh, you can marry Suzette." 
 
 A RECOILING VENGEANCE 
 
 A Comedietta, in One <Ad. 
 By A. LOUIS ELLISTON. 
 
 Three male, one female characters. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy 
 interior. This little play is written for two eccentric old men, who play the 
 leading characters, and offer great opportunity. There is a pretty love story 
 woven in with their humors, and the combination is full of interest and 
 balances well. Plays half an hour. 
 
 PRICE J5 CENTS. 
 
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