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46

THE WEST INDIAN.

Charles. Madam; Miss Rusport; what are your commands?

Miss R. Why so reserved? We had used to answer to no other names than those of Charles and Charlotte.

flint without fire; something might be struck out of him, if you had the wit to find the way.

Ful. Hang him, an old dry-skinned curmudgeon; you may as well think to get truth out of a courtier, or candour out of a critic: I can make Charles. What ails you? You have been weep-nothing of him; besides, he 's poor, and therefore not for our purpose. ing.

Miss R. No; no; or, if I have, your eyes are full too; but I have a thousand things to say to you; before you go, tell me, I conjure you, where you are to be found: here, give me your direction; write it upon the back of this visiting ticketHave you a pencil?

Charles. I have: but why should you desire to find us out? 'tis a poor little inconvenient place; my sister has no apartment fit to receive you in.

Enter SERVANT.

Serv. Madam, my lady desires your company directly.

Miss R. I am coming-well, have you wrote it? Give it me. O, Charles? either you do not or you will not understand me.

ACT II.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE I-A Room in FULMER'S House. FULMER discovered, seated; MRS. FULMER enters to him.

Mrs. Ful. Why, how you sit, musing and moping, sighing and desponding! I'm ashamed of you, Mr. Fulmer; is this the country you described to me, a second Eldorado, rivers of gold and rocks of diamonds? You found me in a pretty snug retired way of life at Boulogne, out of the noise and bustle of the world, and wholly at my ease: but, thank Heaven, our partnership is revocable; I am not your wedded wife, praised be my stars! for what have we got, whom have we gulled but ourselves? which of all your trains has taken fire? even this poor expedient of your bookseller's shop seems abandoned; for, if a chance customer drops in, who is there, pray, to help him to what he wants?

Ful. Patty, you know it is not upon slight grounds that I despair; there had used to be a livelihood to be picked up in this country, both for the honest and dishonest: I have tried each walk, and am likely to starve at last: there is not a point to which the wit and faculty of man can turn, that I have not set mine to, but in vain; I am beat through every quarter of the compass.

Mrs. Ful. Ah! common efforts all; strike me a master-stroke, Mr. Fulmer, if you wish to make any figure in this country.

Mrs. Ful. The more fool he! Would any man be poor, that had such a prodigy in his posses

sion.

Ful. His daughter, you mean; she is, indeed, uncommonly beautiful.

Mrs. Ful. Beautiful! Why, she need only be seen, to have the first men in the kingdom at her feet. What would some of your young nabobs give?

Ful. Hush! here comes the captain; good girl, leave us to ourselves, and let me try what I can make of him.

Mrs. Ful. Captain truly! i'faith I'd have a regiment, had I such a daughter, before I was three [Erit. months older.

Enter CAPTAIN DUDLEY.

Ful. Captain Dudley, good morning to you. Dud. Mr. Fulmer, I have borrowed a book from your shop; 'tis the sixth volume of my deceased friend Tristram: he is a flattering writer to us poor soldiers; and the divine story of Le Fevre, which makes part of this book, in my opinion of it, does honour, not to its author only, but to human nature.

Ful. He's an author I keep in the way of trade, but one I never relished: he is much too loose and profligate for my taste.

Dud. That's being too severe : I hold him to be a moralist in the noblest sense: he plays, indeed, with the fancy, and sometimes, perhaps, too wantonly but while he thus designedly masks his main attack, he comes at once upon the heart; selfish barrier from about it, and opens every refines, amends it, softens it; beats down each sluice of pity and benevolence.

Ful. Well, Sir, I shall not oppose your opinion; a favourite author is like a favourite misto have his taste arraigned. tress; and there, you know, captain, no man likes

Dud. Upon my word, Sir, I don't know what a man likes in that case; 'tis an experiment I never made.

Ful. Sir!-Are you serious?

Dud. 'Tis of little consequence whether you think so.

Ful. What a formal old prig it is! [Aside.] I apprehend you, Sir; you speak with caution; you are married?

Dud. I have been.

Ful. And this young lady, who accompanies

Dud. Passes for my daughter.

Ful. But where, how, and what? I have blus-you-
tered for prerogative; I have bellowed for free-
dom; I have offered to serve my country; I have
engaged to betray it; a master-stroke, truly! why
I have talked treason, writ treason, and if a man
can't live by that, he can live by nothing. Here
I set up as a bookseller, why, men leave off read-greatest defect a woman can have.
ing; and if I was to turn butcher, I believe, o' my
conscience, they'd leave off eating.

Ful. Passes for his daughter! humph—[Aside.]
of a most enchanting shape and air.
She is exceedingly beautiful, finely accomplished,

CAPTAIN DUDLEY crosses the stage.
Mrs. Ful. Why, there now 's your lodger, old
Captain Dudley, as he calls himself; there's no

Dud. You are much too partial; she has the

Ful. How so, pray?

Dud. She has no fortune.

Ful. Rather say that you have none; and that 's a sore defect in one of your years, Captair Dudley: you have served, no doubt ?

Dud. Familiar coxcomb! But I'll humour him. [Aside

Fu. A close old fox! but I'll unkennel him.

[Aside. Dud. Above thirty years I have been in the service, Mr. Fulmer.

Ful. I guessed as much; I laid it at no less: why, 'tis a wearisome time; 'tis an apprenticeship to a profession, fit only for a patriarch. But preferment must be closely followed: you never could have been so far behind-hand in the chase, anless you had palpably mistaken your way. You'll pardon me; but I begin to perceive you nave lived in the world, not with it.

Dud. It may be so; and you, perhaps, can give me better counsel. I am now soliciting a favour; an exchange to a company on full pay; nothing more; and yet I meet a thousand bars to that; though, without boasting, I should think the certificate of services which I sent in might have purchased that indulgence to me.

Ful. Who thinks or cares about them? Cer

tificate of services, indeed! Send in a certificate of your fair daughter: carry her in your hand with you.

Dud. What! Who! My daughter! Carry my daughter! Well, and what then?

Ful. Why, then your fortune's made, that's all.

Dud. I understand you: and this you call knowledge of the world! Despicable knowledge! but, sirrah, I will have you know[Threatens him. Ful. Help! Who's within? Would you strike me, Sir? would you lift up your hand against a man in his own house?

Dud. In a church, if he dare insult the poverty of a man of honour.

Ful. Have a care what you do; remember there is such a thing in law as an assault and battery; ay, and such trifling forms as warrants and indictments.

Dud. Go, Sir; you are too mean for my resentment: 'tis that, and not the law protects you. Hence!

Ful. An old, absurd, incorrigible blockhead! I'll be revenged of him. [Aside.

Enter CHARLES DUDLEY.

Charles. What is the matter, Sir? Sure I heard an outcry as I entered the house.

Dud. Not unlikely; our landlord and his wife are for ever wrangling. Did you find your aunt Dudley at home?

Charles. I did.

Dud. And what was your reception? Charles. Cold as our poverty and her pride could make it.

Dud. You told her the pressing occasion I had for a small supply to equip me for this exchange; has she granted me the relief I asked?

Charles. Alas, Sir, she has peremptorily refused it.

Dud. That's hard; that's hard, indeed! My petition was for a small sum; she has refused it, you say well, be it so; I must not complain. Did you see the broker, about the insurance on my life?

Charles. There again I am the messenger of ill news; I an raise no money, so fatal is the climate: alas that ever my father should be sent to perish in such a place'

LOUISA DUDLEY enters hastily. Dud. Louisa, what's the matter? you seen frighted.

Lou. I am, indeed coming from Miss Ruswho has beset me in the strangest manner. port's, I met a young gentleman in the streets,

Charles. Insufferable! Was he rude to you? Lou. I cannot say he was absolutely rude to and once or twice attempted to lift up my hat; he me, but he was very importunate to speak to me, followed me to the corner of the street, and there gave him the slip.

I

Dud. You must walk no more in the streets, child, without me, or your brother.

you directly; Lady Rusport is gone out, and she Lou. O Charles! Miss Rusport desires to see has something particular to say to you.

Charles. Have you any commands for me,

Sir?

Miss Rusport. Come, Louisa; I must desire you Dud. None, my dear: by all means wait upon to go up to your chamber, and compose yourself. [Exeunt.

Enter BELCOUR, after peeping in at the door.

Bel. Not a soul, as I'm alive. Why, what an odd sort of a house is this! Confound the little jilt, she has fairly given me the slip. A plague upon this London, I shall have no luck in it: such a crowd, and such a hurry, and such a number of shops, and one so like the other, that whether the wench turned into this house or the next, or whether she went up stairs or down stairs, (for there's a world above and a world below, it seems,) I declare I know no more than if I was in the blue mountains. In the name of all the devils at once, why did she run away? If every handsome girl meet in this town is to lead me such a wildgoose chase, I had better have stayed in the torrid zone: I shall be wasted to the size of a sugar-canc: what shall I do? give the chase up? hang it, that's cowardly shall I, a true-born son of Phoebus, suffer this little nimble-footed Daphne to escape me? -Forbid it, honour, and forbid it, love.' Hush! hush here she comes! Oh! the devil! What tawdry thing have we got here?

I

Enter MRS. FULMER.

Mrs. Ful. Your humble servant, Sir.
Bel. Your humble servant, Madam.
Mrs. Ful. A fine summer's day, Sir.

Bel. Yes, Ma'am; and so cool, that, if the calender didn't call it July, I should swear it was January.

Mrs. Ful. Sir.

Bel. Madam!

Mrs. Ful. Do you wish to speak to Mr. Fulmer, Sir?

Bel. Mr. Fulmer, Madam? I haven't the honour of knowing such a person.

Mrs. Ful. No! I'll be sworn, you have not; thou art much too pretty a fellow, and too much of a gentleman, to be an author thyself, or to have any thing to say to those that are so. "Tis the captain, I suppose, you are waiting for. I

Bel. I rather suspect it is the captain's wife.
Mrs. Ful. The captain has no wife, Sir.

Bel. No wife! I'm heartily sorry for it; for then she's his mistress; and that I take to be the

more desperate case of the two. Pray, Madam, wasn't there a lady just now turned into your house? "Twas with her I wished to speak.

Mrs. Ful. What sort of a lady, pray? Bel. One of the loveliest sort my eyes ever beheld; young, tall, fresh, fair; in short, a goddess. Mrs. Ful. Nay, but dear, dear Sir, now I'm sure you flatter; for 'twas me you followed into the shop-door this minute.

Bel. You! No, no, take my word for it, it was not you, Madam. [Laughs.

Mrs. Ful. But what is it you laugh at ? Bel. Upon my soul, I ask your pardon; but it was not you, believe me; be assured, it wasn't. Mrs. Ful. Well, Sir, I shall not contend for the honour of being noticed by you; I hope you think you wouldn't have been the first man that noticed me in the streets; however, this I'm positive of, that no living woman but myself has entered these doors this morning.

Bel. Why, then, I'm mistaken in the house, that's all; for it is not humanly possible I can be so far out in the lady. [Going. Mrs. Ful. Coxcomb!-But hold-a thought occurs; as sure as can be, he has seen Miss Dudley. A word with you, young gentleman ; come back.

Bel. Well, what's your pleasure?

Mrs. Ful. You seem greatly captivated with this young lady; are you apt to fall in love thus at first sight?

Bel. Oh, yes: 'tis the only way I can ever fall in love; any man may tumble into a pit by surprise; none but a fool would walk into one by choice.

Mrs. Ful. You are a hasty lover, it seems: have you spirit to be a generous one? They that will please the eye, mustn't spare the purse.

Be. Try me; put me to the proof; bring me to an interview with the dear girl that has thus captivated me, and see whether I have spirit to be grateful.

Mrs. Ful. But how, pray, am I to know the girl you have set your heart on?

Bel. By an undescribable grace, that accompanies every look and action that falls from her; there can be but one such woman in the world, and nobody can mistake that one.

Mrs. Ful. Well, if I should stumble upon this angel in my walks, where am I to find you? What 's your name?

Bel. Upon my soul I can't tell you my name. Mrs. Ful. Not tell me! Why so? Bel. Because I don't know what it is myself; as yet I have no name.

Mrs. Ful. No name!

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Mrs. Ful. Hush! hush! Hold your tongue man; pocket the affront, and be quiet; I've a scheme on foot will pay you a hundred beatings. Why you surprise me, Mr. Fulmer; Captain Dudley assault you! Impossible.

Ful. Nay, I can't call it an absolute assault; but he threatened me.

Mrs. Ful. Oh, was that all? I thought how it would turn out-a likely thing, truly, for a person of his obliging, compassionate turn: no, no, poor Captain Dudley, he has sorrows and distresses enough of his own to employ his spirits, without setting them against other people. Make it up as fast as you can: watch this gentleman out; follow him wherever he goes, and bring me word who and what he is; be sure you don't lose sight of him; I've other business in hand. [Erit. Bel. Pray, Sir, what sorrows and distresses have befallen this old gentleman you speak of?

Ful. Poverty, disappointment, and all the distresses attendant thereupon: sorrow enough, of all conscience: I soon found how it was with him, by his way of living, low enough, of all reason; but what I overheard this morning put it out of all doubt.

Bel. What did you overhear this morning?

Ful. Why, it seems he wants to join his regi ment, and has been beating the town over to raise a little money for that purpose upon his pay; but the climate, I find, where he is going, is so unhealthy, that nobody can be found to lend him any.

Bel. Why, then, your town is a damned goodfor-nothing town: and I wish I had never come into it.

Ful. That 's what I say, Sir; the hard-heartedness of some folks is unaccountable. There's an old Lady Rusport, a near relation of this gentleman's; she lives hard by here, opposite to Stockwell's, the great merchant; he sent to her a-begging, but to no purpose; though she is as rich as a Jew, she would not furnish him with a farthing,

Bel. Is the captain at home?
Ful. He is up stairs, Sir.

Bel. Will you take the trouble to desire him to step hither? I want to speak with him.

Ful. I'll send him to you directly. I don't know what to make of this young man: but, if I live, I will find him out, or know the reason why.

[Erit.

Bel. I've lost the girl, it seems, that 's clear: she was the first object of my pursuit; but the case of this poor officer touches me; and, after all, there may be as much true delight in rescuing a fellow-creature from distress, as there would be in plunging one into it-But let me see: it's a point that must be managed with some delicacy-Apro pos! there's pen and ink-I've struck upon a method that will do. [Writes.] Ay, ay, this is the very thing: 'twas devilish lucky I happened to have these bills about me. There, there, fare you well! I'm glad to be rid of you; you stood a chance of being worse applied, I can tell you. [Encloses and seals the paper.

FULMER brings in DUDLEY.

Ful. That's the gentleman, Sir. I shall make bold, however, to lend an ear. [Exit.

Dud. Have you any commands for me, Sir? Bel. Your name is Dudley, Sir?—

Dud. It is.

paper is to tell me who he is, and what are his Bel. You command a company, I think, Cap- terms: in the name of wonder, why has he sealed Lain Dudley?

Dud. I did: I am now upon half-pay.
Bel. You have served some time?

Dud. A pretty many years; long enough to see some people, of more merit and better interest than myself, made general officers.

it? Hey-day! what's here? Two bank notes,
of a hundred each! I cannot comprehend what
this means. Hold; here's a writing perhaps that
will show me, Accept this trifle-pursue your
fortune, and prosper." Am I in a dream? Is this
a reality?
Enter MAJOR O'FLAHERTY.

O'Fla. 'Save you, my dear! Is it you now that are Captain Dudley, I would ask? [Exit DUD

Bel. Their merit I may have some doubt of: their interest I can readily give credit to; there is little promotion to be looked for in your profession, I believe, without friends, Captain? Dud. I believe so too: have you any other bu-LEY.-Whuh! What's the hurry the man's in? siness with me, may I ask? If 'tis the lad that run out of the shop you would

Bel. Your patience for a moment. I was in-overtake, you might as well stay where you are; formed you was about to join your regiment in distant quarters abroad.

Dud. I have been soliciting an exchange to a company on full pay, quartered at James's Fort, in Senegambia; but, I'm afraid, I must drop the undertaking.

Bel. Why so, pray?

Dud. Why so, Sir? 'Tis a home question for a perfect stranger to put; there is something very particular in all this.

Bel. If it is not impertinent, Sir, allow me to ask you what reason you have for despairing of

success.

Dud. Why, really, Sir, mine is an obvious reason, for a soldier to have-Want of money; simply that.

by my soul he's as nimble as a Croat; you are a full hour's march in his rear-Ay faith, you may as well turn back, and give over the pursuit.

Re-enter Dudley.

Well, Captain Dudley, if that 's your name, there's a letter for you. Read man, read it; and I'll have a word with you after you have done. Dud. More miracles on foot! So, so, from Lady Rusport.

O'Fla. You're right; it's from her ladyship. Dud. Well, Sir, I have cast my eye over it; 'tis short and peremptory; are you acquainted with the contents?

O'Fla. Not at all, my dear; not at all.
Dud. Have you any message from Lady Rus-

Bel. May I beg to know the sum you have oc-port? casion for?

O'Fla. Not a syllable, honey: only, when Dud. Truly, Sir, I cannot exactly tell you on you've digested the letter, I've a little bit of a a sudden; nor is it, I suppose, of any great conse-message to deliver you from myself. quence to you to be informed; but I should guess, in the gross, that two hundred pounds would

serve.

Bel. And do you find a difficulty in raising that sum upon your pay? "Tis done every day. Dud. The nature of the climate makes it difficult: I can get no one to ensure my life.

is?

Dud. And may I beg to know who yourself

O'Fla. Dennis O'Flaherty, at your service; a poor major of grenadiers; nothing better.

Dud. So much for your name and title, Sir; now be so good to favour me with your message. O'Fla. Why then, captain, I must tell you I Bel. Oh! that's a circumstance may make for have promised Lady Rusport you shall do whatyou, as well as against: in short, Captain Dud-ever it is she bids you to do in that letter there. ley, it so happens, that I can command the sum of two hundred pounds: seek no further; I'll accommodate you with it upon easy terms.

Dud. Sir! do I understand you rightly?—I beg your pardon; but am I to believe that you are in earnest?

Bel. What is your surprise? Is it an uncommon thing for a gentleman to speak truth? Or is it incredible that one fellow-creature should assist another?

Dud. I ask your pardon-may I beg to know to whom?-Do you propose this in the way of

business?

Bel. Entirely: I have no other business on earth.

Dud. Ay, indeed; have you undertaken so much, major, without knowing either what she commands, or what I can perform?

O'Fla. That 's your concern, my dear, not mine; I must keep my word, you know. Dud. Or else, I suppose, you and I must measure swords.

O'Fla. Upon my soul, you've hit it.

Dud. That would hardly answer to either of us: you and I have, probably, had enough of fighting in our time before now.

O'Fla. Faith and troth, Master Dudley, you may say that; 'tis thirty years, come the time, that I have followed the trade, and in a pretty many countries.-Let me see-In the war before

Dud. Indeed! you are not a broker, I'm per-last I served in the Irish brigade, d'ye see; there,

suaded.

Bel. I am not.

Dud. Nor an army agent, I think! Bel. I hope you will not think the worse of me for being neither in short, Sir, if you will peruse this paper, it will explain to you who I am, and upon what terms I act; while you read it, I will step home, and fetch the money, and we will conAude the bargain without loss of time. In the mean while, good day to you. [Exit hastily. Dud. Humph! there's something very odd in all this-let me see what we've got here.-This Vol. II.... G

5

Af

after bringing off the French monarch, I left his
service, with a British bullet in my body, and this
riband in my button-hole. Last war I followed
the fortunes of the German eagle, in the corps
of grenadiers; there I had my belly ful of fighting,
and a plentiful scarcity of every thing else.
ter six and twenty engagements, great and smalk
I went off with this gash on my scull, and a kiss
of the empress queen's sweet hand, (Heaven
bless it!) for my pains. Since the peace, my dear.
I took a little turn with the confederates there in
Poland—but such another set of madcaps !—by

the Lord Harry, I never knew what it was they were scuffling about.

witch! this is the old lady's glass, and she has left some of her wrinkles on it-How frightfully Dud. Well, major, I wont add another action have I put on my cap! all awry! and my hair to the list; you shall keep your promise with La-dressed so unbecoming! altogether, I'm a most dy Rusport: she requires me to leave London; I complete frightshall go in a few days, and you may take what credit vou please from my compliance.

O'Fla. Give me your hand, my dear boy! this will make her my own; when that 's the case, we shall be brothers, you know, and we'll share her fortune between us.

Dud. Not so, major; the man, who marries Lady Rusport, will have a fair title to her fortune without division. But, I hope, your expectations of prevailing are founded upon good reasons. O'Fla. Upon the best grounds in the world; first, I think she will comply, because she is a woman; secondly, I am persuaded she wont hold out long, because she's a widow; and thirdly, I make sure of her, because I have married five wives, (en militaire, captain.) and never failed yet; and, for what I know, they are all alive and merry at this very hour.

you.

Dud. Well, Sir, go on, and prosper; if you can inspire Lady Rusport with half your charity, I shall think you deserve all her fortune; at present, I must beg your excuse: good morning to [Exit. O'Fla. A good sensible man, and very much of a soldier; I did not care if I was better acquainted with him: but 'tis an awkward kind of country for that; the English, I observe, are close friends, but distant acquaintances. I suspect the old lady has not been over generous to poor Dudley; I shall give her a little touch about that: upon my soul, I know but one excuse a person can have for giving nothing, and that is, like myself, having nothing to give. [Exit. SCENE II-LADY RUSPORT'S House. A

Dressing-room.

MISS RUSPORT and LUCY.

Miss R. Well, Lucy, you've dislodged the old lady at last; but methought you was a tedious time about it.

Lucy. A tedious time, indeed: I think they who have least to spare, contrive to throw the most away; I thought I should never have got her out of the house: then, Madam, this being a visit of great ceremony to a person of distinction at the west end of the town, the old state chariot was dragged forth on the occasion, with strict charges to dress out the box with the leopard-skin hammercloth.

Miss R. Yes, and to hang the false tails on the miserable stumps of the old crawling cattle: well, well, pray, Heaven, the old crazy affair don't break down again with her.-But where 's Charles Dudley? run down, dear girl, and be ready to let him in; I think he 's as long in coming as she was in going.

Enter CHARLES, unobserved.
Charles. That I deny.
Miss R. Ah!

Charles. Quarrelling with your glass, cousin? make it up, make it up, and be friends; it cannot compliment you more than by reflecting you as you are.

Miss R. Well I vow, my dear Charles, that is delightfully said, and deserves my very best courtesy; your flattery, like a rich jewel, has a value not only from its superior lustre, but from its extraordinary scarceness: I verily think, this is the only civil speech you ever directed to my person in your life.

Charles. And I ought to ask pardon of your good sense, for having done it now.

Miss R. Nay, now you relapse again: don't you know, if you keep well with a woman on the great score of beauty, she'll never quarrel with you on the trifling article of good sense?-But any thing serves to fill up a dull, yawning hour, with an insipid cousin; you have brighter mo ments, and warmer spirits, for the dear girl of your heart.

Charles. Oh, fy upon you! fy upon you!

Miss R. You blush, and the reason is apparent:-you are a novice at hypocrisy ; but no practice can make a visit of ceremony pass for a visit of choice: love is ever before its time; friendship is apt to lag a little after it.-Pray, Charles, did you make any extraordinary haste hither?

Charles. By your question, I see you acquit me of the impertinence of being in love.

Miss R. But why impertinence? why the impertinence of being in love?-you have one language for me, Charles, and another for the woman of your affection.

Charles. You are mistaken-the woman of my affection shall never hear any other language from me, than what I use to you.

Miss R. I am afraid, then, you'll never make yourself understood by her.

Charles. It is not fit I should; there is no need of love to make me miserable; 'tis wretchedness enough to be a beggar.

Miss R. A beggar do you call yourself! O Charles, Charles, rich in every merit and accomplishment, whom may you not aspire to? and why think you so unworthily of our sex, as to conclude there is not one to be found with sense to discern your virtue, and generosity to reward it?

Charles. You distress me;-I must beg to hear no more.

Miss R. Well, I can be silent.Thus does he always serve me, whenever I am about to disLucy. Why, indeed, Madam, you seem the close myself to him. [Aside. more alert of the two, I must say. [Exit. Charles. Why do you not banish me and my Miss R. Now the deuce take the girl, for put-misfortunes for ever from your thoughts? ting that notion into my head: I am sadly afraid Dudley does not like me; so much encouragement as I have given him to declare himself, I never could get a word from him on the subject! this may be very honourable, but upon my life it 's very provoking By the way, I wonder how I look today: Oh! shockingly hideously pale! like a

Miss R. Ay, wherefore do I not, since you never allowed me a place in yours?-But go, Šir ; I have no right to stay you; go where your heart directs you; go to the happy, the distinguished fair one.

Charles. Now, by all that's good, you do me wrong; there is no such fair one for me to go to,

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