SCENE III.
Reading edition
A Room in the Inn. Lamp and Trap [discovered drinking.]
Trap. This same Farmer Gammon seems a surly spark.
Lamp. No matter. His barn will hold a good thirty pounds, and if I can but engage this young fellow, this Rover, he'll cram it every night he plays. He's certainly a devilish good actor. Now, Trap, you must enquire out a carpenter, and be brisk about the building. I think we shall have smart business, as we stand so well for pretty women, too. Oh, here he is!
Trap. Snap him at any terms.
Enter Rover.
Rover. Gentlemen, your most obedient—The waiter told me—
Lamp. Sir, to our better acquaintance. [Fills.]
Rover. I don't recollect I have the honour of knowing—
Lamp. Mr. Rover, though I am a stranger to you, your merit is none to me.
Rover. Sir. [Bows.]
Lamp. Yes, sir, my name is Lamp: I am manager of the company of comedians that's come down here, and Mr. Trap is my treasurer, engages performers, sticks bills, finds properties, keeps box-books, prompts play, and takes the town.
Trap. The most reputable company, and charming money getting circuit. [Apart to Rover.]
Rover. Hav'n't a doubt, sir.
Lamp. Only suffer me to put up your name to play with us six nights, and twelve guineas are yours.
Rover. Sir, I thank you, and must confess your offer is liberal; but my friends have flattered me into a sort of opinion that encourages me to take a touch at the capital.
Lamp. Ah, my dear Mr. Rover, a London theatre is dangerous ground.
Rover. Why, I may fail, and gods may groan, and ladies drawl, "La, what an awkward creature!" But should I top my part, then shall gods applaud, and ladies sigh, "The charming fellow!" and treasurers smile upon me, as they count the shining guineas!
Lamp. But, suppose—
Rover. Ay, suppose the contrary, I have a certain friend here, in my coat pocket [Puts his hand in his pocket.] Eh! zounds! where is—oh, the devil! I gave it to discharge my kind host—going for London, and not master of five shillings! [Aside.] "Sir, to return to the twenty pounds."
Lamp. Twenty pounds. Well, let it be so.
Rover. Sir, I engage with you, call a rehearsal when and where you please, I'll attend.
Lamp. Sir, I'll step for the cast book, and you shall chuse your characters.
Trap. And, sir, I'll write out the play-bills directly.
[Exeunt Lamp and Trap.
Rover. Since I must remain here some time, and I've not the most distant hope of ever speaking to this goddess again, I wish I had inquired her name, that I might know how to keep out of her way.
Enter John Dory and Landlord.
Landl. There's the gentleman.
John. Very well.
[Exit Landlord.
What cheer, ho, master squire?
Rover. Cheer, ho! my hearty!
John. The very face of his father! And an't you asham'd of yourself?
Rover. Why, yes, I am sometimes.
John. Do you know, if I had you at the gangways, I'd give you a neater dozen than ever you got from your schoolmaster's cat-a-nine tails.
Rover. You woudn't sure?
John. I would sure.
Rover. Indeed?—Pleasant enough! who is this genius?
John. I've dispatch'd a shallop to tell Lady Amaranth you're here.
Rover. You havn't?
John. I have.
Rover. Now, who the devil's Lady Amaranth?
John. I expect her chariot every moment, and when it comes, you'll get into it, and I'll get into it, and I'll set you down genteely at her house; then I'll have obeyed my orders, and I hope your father will be satisfied.
Rover. My father! who's he pray?
John. Pshaw! leave off your fun, and prepare to ask his pardon.
Rover. Ha, ha, ha! Why, my worthy friend, you are totally wrong in this affair. Upon my word I'm not the person you take me for. [Going.]
John. You don't go, though they've got your name down in the stage coach book, Mr. Thunder.
Rover. Mr. Thunder! stage coach book! [Pauses.] ha, ha, ha! This must be some curious blunder.
John. Oh! my lad, your father, Sir George, will change your note.
Rover. He must give me one first. Sir George! then my father is a knight, it seems; ha, ha, ha! very good, faith! 'pon my honour, I am not the gentleman that you think me.
John. I ought not to think you any gentleman for giving your honour in a falsehood. Oh! them play actors you went amongst have quite spoiled you. I wish only one of 'em would come in my way. I'd teach 'em to bring a gentleman's son tramboozing about the country.
Enter Waiter.
Waiter. Her ladyship's chariot's at the door, and I fancy it's you, sir, the coachman wants.
John. Yes, it's me. I attend your honour.
Rover. Then you insist on it that I am—
John. I insist on nothing, only you shall come.
Rover. Indeed! Shall! Shall is a word don't sound over agreeable to my ears.
John. Does a pretty girl sound well to your ear?
Rover. "More music in the clink of her horses' hoofs than twenty hautboys." Why, is this Lady Thing-o-me pretty?
John. Beautiful as a mermaid, and stately as a ship under sail.
Rover. Egad! I've a mind to humour the frolic—Well, well, I'll see your mermaid. But then on the instant of my appearance the mistake must be discovered. [Aside.] Harkye, is this father of mine you talk of at this lady's?
John. No: your father's in chase of the deserters. I find he's afraid to face the old one, so, if I tell him, he won't go with me. [Aside.] No, no, we shan't see him in a hurry.
Rover. Then I'll venture. Has the lady ever seen me?
John. Psha! none of your jokes, man; you know, that her ladyship, no more than myself, has set eyes upon you since you was the bigness of a rumbo canakin.
Rover. The choice is made. I have my Ranger's dress in my trunk: "Cousin of Buckingham, thou sage grave man!"
John. What?
Rover. "Since you will buckle fortune on my back, to bear her burden, whether I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load; but if black scandal, or foul faced"——
John. Black! my foul face was as fair as yours before I went to sea.
Rover. "Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me."
John. Man, don't stand preaching parson Sacks—come to the chariot.
Rover. Ay, to the chariot! "Bear me, Bucephalus, among the billows,—hey! for the Tygris!" [Exeunt.