A street. [Enter THOMAS; he crosses the stage; FAG follows, looking after him.]
FAG
What! Thomas! sure ’tis he? — What! Thomas! Thomas!
THOMAS
Hey! — Odd’s life! Mr. Fag! — give us your hand, my old fellow-servant.
FAG Excuse my glove, Thomas: — I’m devilish glad to see you, my lad. Why, my prince of charioteers, you look as hearty! — but who the deuce thought of seeing you in Bath?
THOMAS Sure, master, Madam Julia, Harry, Mrs. Kate, and the postillion, be all come.
FAG
Indeed!
THOMAS Ay, master thought another fit of the gout was coming to make him a visit; — so he’d a mind to gi’t the slip, and whip! we were all off at an hour’s warning.
FAG
Ay, ay, hasty in every thing, or it would not be Sir Anthony Absolute!
THOMAS But tell us, Mr. Fag, how does young master? Odd! Sir Anthony will stare to see the Captain here!
FAG
I do not serve Captain Absolute now.
THOMAS
Why sure!
FAG
At present I am employed by Ensign Beverley.
THOMAS
I doubt, Mr. Fag, you ha’n’t changed for the better.
FAG
I have not changed, Thomas.
THOMAS
No! Why didn’t you say you had left young master?
FAG No. — Well, honest Thomas, I must puzzle you no farther: — briefly then — Captain Absolute and Ensign Beverley are one and the same person.
THOMAS
The devil they are!
FAG So it is indeed, Thomas; and the ensign half of my master being on guard at present — the captain has nothing to do with me.
THOMAS So, so! — What, this is some freak, I warrant! — Do tell us, Mr. Fag, the meaning o’t — you know I ha’ trusted you.
FAG
You’ll be secret, Thomas?
THOMAS
As a coach-horse.
FAG Why then the cause of all this is — Love, — Love, Thomas, who (as you may get read to you) has been a masquerader ever since the days of Jupiter.
THOMAS Ay, ay; — I guessed there was a lady in the case: — but pray, why does your master pass only for ensign? — Now if he had shammed general indeed ——
FAG Ah! Thomas, there lies the mystery o’ the matter. Hark’ee, Thomas, my master is in love with a lady of a very singular taste: a lady who likes him better as a half pay ensign than if she knew he was son and heir to Sir Anthony Absolute, a baronet of three thousand a year.
THOMAS That is an odd taste indeed! — But has she got the stuff, Mr. Fag? Is she rich, hey?
FAG Rich! — Why, I believe she owns half the stocks! Zounds! Thomas, she could pay the national debt as easily as I could my washerwoman! She has a lapdog that eats out of gold, — she feeds her parrot with small pearls, — and all her thread-papers are made of bank-notes!
THOMAS Bravo, faith! — Odd! I warrant she has a set of thousands at least: — but does she draw kindly with the captain?
FAG
As fond as pigeons.
THOMAS
May one hear her name?
FAG Miss Lydia Languish. — But there is an old tough aunt in the way; though, by-the-by, she has never seen my master — for we got acquainted with miss while on a visit in Gloucestershire.
THOMAS
Well — I wish they were once harnessed together in matrimony. — But pray,
Mr. Fag, what kind of a place is this Bath? — I ha’ heard a deal of
it — here’s a mort o’ merrymaking, hey?
FAG Pretty well, Thomas, pretty well— ’tis a good lounge; in the morning we go to the pump-room (though neither my master nor I drink the waters); after breakfast we saunter on the parades, or play a game at billiards; at night we dance; but damn the place, I’m tired of it: their regular hours stupify me — not a fiddle nor a card after eleven! — However, Mr. Faulkland’s gentleman and I keep it up a little in private parties; — I’ll introduce you there, Thomas — you’ll like him much.
THOMAS
Sure I know Mr. Du-Peigne — you know his master is to marry Madam Julia.
FAG
I had forgot. — But, Thomas, you must polish a little — indeed you
must. — Here now — this wig! — What the devil do you do with a wig,
Thomas? — None of the London whips of any degree of ton wear wigs now.
THOMAS More’s the pity! more’s the pity! I say. — Odd’s life! when I heard how the lawyers and doctors had took to their own hair, I thought how ’twould go next: — odd rabbit it! when the fashion had got foot on the bar, I guessed ’twould mount to the box! — but ’tis all out of character, believe me, Mr. Fag: and look’ee, I’ll never gi’ up mine — the lawyers and doctors may do as they will.
FAG
Well, Thomas, we’ll not quarrel about that.
THOMAS Why, bless you, the gentlemen of the professions ben’t all of a mind — for in our village now, thoff Jack Gauge, the exciseman, has ta’en to his carrots, there’s little Dick the farrier swears he’ll never forsake his bob, though all the college should appear with their own heads!
FAG
Indeed! well said, Dick! — But hold — mark! mark! Thomas.
THOMAS
Zooks! ’tis the captain. — Is that the Lady with him?
FAG No, no, that is Madam Lucy, my master’s mistress’s maid. They lodge at that house — but I must after him to tell him the news.
THOMAS
Odd! he’s giving her money! — Well, Mr. Fag ——
FAG Good-bye, Thomas. I have an appointment in Gyde’s porch this evening at eight; meet me there, and we’ll make a little party.
[Exeunt severally.]