The Contrast: A Comedy | ||
SCENE II. The Mall.
Enter MANLY.
It must be so, Montague! and it is not all the tribe of Mandevilles that shall convince me that a nation, to become great, must first become dissipated. Luxury is surely the bane of a nation: Luxury! which enervates both soul and body, by opening a thousand new sources of enjoyment, opens, also, a thousand new sources of contention and want: Luxury! which renders a people weak at home, and accessible to bribery, corruption, and force from abroad. When the Grecian states knew no other tools than the axe and the saw,
Enter DIMPLE.
You are Colonel Manly, I presume?
MANLY.
At your service, Sir.
DIMPLE.
My name is Dimple, Sir. I have the honour to be a lodger in the same house with you, and, hearing you were in the Mall, came hither to take the liberty of joining you.
MANLY.
You are very obliging, Sir.
DIMPLE.
As I understand you are a stranger here, Sir, I have taken the liberty to introduce myself to your acquaintance, as possibly I may have it in my power to point out some things in this city worthy your notice.
MANLY.
An attention to strangers is worthy a liberal mind, and must ever be gratefully received. But to a soldier, who has no fixed abode, such attentions are particularly pleasing.
DIMPLE.
Sir, there is no character so respectable as that of a soldier. And, indeed, when we reflect how much we owe to those brave men who have suffered so much in the service of their country, and secured to us those
MANLY.
Give me your hand, Sir! I do not proffer this hand to everybody; but you steal into my heart. I hope I am as insensible to flattery as most men; but I declare (it may be my weak side) that I never hear the name of soldier mentioned with respect, but I experience a thrill of pleasure which I never feel on any other occasion.
DIMPLE.
Will you give me leave, my dear Colonel, to confer an obligation on myself, by shewing you some civilities during your stay here, and giving a similar opportunity to some of my friends?
MANLY.
Sir, I thank you; but I believe my stay in this city will be very short.
DIMPLE.
I can introduce you to some men of excellent sense, in whose company you will esteem yourself happy; and, by way of amusement, to some fine girls, who will listen to your soft things with pleasure.
MANLY.
Sir, I should be proud of the honour of being acquainted with those gentlemen;—but, as for the ladies, I don't understand you.
DIMPLE.
Why, Sir, I need not tell you, that when a young gentleman is alone with a young lady he must say some soft things to her fair cheek—indeed, the lady will expect it. To be sure, there is not much pleasure when a man of the world and a finished coquette meet, who perfectly know each other; but how delicious is it to excite the emotions of joy, hope, expectation, and delight in the bosom of a lovely girl who believes every tittle of what you say to be serious!
MANLY.
Serious, Sir! In my opinion, the man who, under pretensions of marriage, can plant thorns in the bosom of an innocent, unsuspecting girl is more detestable than a common robber, in the same proportion as private violence is more despicable than open force, and money of less value than happiness.
DIMPLE.
How he awes me by the superiority of his
sentiments. [Aside.]
As you say, Sir, a gentleman should
be cautious how he mentions marriage.
MANLY.
Cautious, Sir! No person more approves of an intercourse between the sexes than I do. Female conversation
DIMPLE.
Sir, I admire your sentiments;—they are mine. The light observations that fell from me were only a principle of the tongue; they came not from the heart; my practice has ever disapproved these principles.
MANLY.
I believe you, Sir. I should with reluctance suppose that those pernicious sentiments could find admittance into the heart of a gentleman.
DIMPLE.
I am now, Sir, going to visit a family, where, if you please, I will have the honour of introducing you.
MANLY.
That gentleman, Sir, is my uncle, and Miss Manly my sister.
DIMPLE.
The devil she is! [Aside.]
Miss Manly your sister,
Sir? I rejoice to hear it, and feel a double pleasure in
being known to you.—Plague on him! I wish he
was at Boston again, with all my soul. [Aside.]
MANLY.
Come, Sir, will you go?
DIMPLE.
I will follow you in a moment, Sir. [Exit Manly.]
Plague on it! this is unlucky. A fighting brother is
a cursed appendage to a fine girl. Egad! I just
stopped in time; had he not discovered himself, in
two minutes more I should have told him how well I
was with his sister. Indeed, I cannot see the
satisfaction of an intrigue, if one can't have the pleasure of
communicating it to our friends.
[Exit.
END OF THE THIRD ACT.
The Contrast: A Comedy | ||