University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Walpole, Blount.
BLOUNT.
Mr Walpole, you ask my advice on the dues
Which the City imposes on coal.

WALPOLE.
Sir, excuse
That pretence for some talk on more weighty a theme,
With a man who commands—

BLOUNT
(aside).
Forty votes.

WALPOLE.
My esteem.
You're a patriot, and therefore I courted this visit.
Hark! your country's in danger—great danger, sir.

BLOUNT
(drily).
Is it?

WALPOLE.
And I ask you to save it from certain perdition.

BLOUNT.
Me!—I am—

WALPOLE.
Yes, at present in hot opposition.
But what's party? Mere cricket—some out and some in;
I have been out myself. At that time I was thin,
Atrabilious, sir—jaundiced; now, rosy and stout,
Nothing pulls down a statesman like long fagging out.
And to come to the point, now there's nobody by,
Be as stout and as rosy, dear Selden, as I.
What! when bad men conspire, shall not good men combine?
There's a place—the Paymastership—just in your line;
I may say that the fees are ten thousand a-year,
Besides extras—not mentioned. (Aside.)
The rogue will cost dear.

BLOUNT.
What has that, sir, to do with the national danger
To which—

WALPOLE.
You're too wise to be wholly a stranger.
Need I name to a man of your Protestant true heart
All the risks we yet run from the Pope and the Stuart?
And the indolent public is so unenlightened
That 'tis not to be trusted, and scarce to be frightened.
When the term of this Parliament draws to its close,
Should King George call another, 'tis filled with his foes.

BLOUNT.
You pay soldiers eno' if the Jacobites rise—

WALPOLE.
But a Jacobite house would soon stop their supplies.
There's a General, on whom you must own, on reflection,
The Pretender relies.

BLOUNT.
Who?

WALPOLE.
The General Election.

BLOUNT.
That election must come; you have no other choice.
Would you juggle the People and stifle its voice?

WALPOLE.
That is just what young men fresh from college would say,
And the People's a very good thing in its way.
But what is the People?—the mere population?
No, the sound-thinking part of this practical nation,
Who support peace and order, and steadily all poll
For the weal of the land!

BLOUNT
(aside).
In plain words, for Bob Walpole.

WALPOLE.
Of a people like this I've no doubts nor mistrustings,
But I have of the fools who vote wrong at the hustings.
Sir, in short, I am always frank-spoken and hearty,
England needs all the patriots that go with your party.
We must make the three years of this Parliament seven,
And stave off Civil War. You agree?

BLOUNT.
Gracious heaven!
Thus to silence the nation, to baffle its laws,
And expect Selden Blount to defend such a cause!
What could ever atone for so foul a disgrace?

WALPOLE.
Everlasting renown— (aside)
and the Paymaster's place.

BLOUNT.
Sir, your servant—good day; I am not what you thought;
I am honest—

WALPOLE.
Who doubts it?

BLOUNT.
And not to be bought.

WALPOLE.
You are not to be bought, sir—astonishing man!
Let us argue that point. If creation you scan,
You will find that the children of Adam prevail
O'er the beasts of the field but by barter and sale.
Talk of coals—if it were not for buying and selling,
Could you coax from Newcastle a coal to your dwelling?
You would be to your own fellow-men good for nought,
Were it true, as you say, that you're not to be bought.
If you find men worth nothing—say, don't you despise them?
And what proves them worth nothing?—why, nobody buys them.
But a man of such worth as yourself! nonsense—come,
Sir, to business; I want you—I buy you; the sum?

BLOUNT.
Is corruption so brazen? are manners so base?

WALPOLE
(aside).
That means he don't much like the Paymaster's place.
(With earnestness and dignity.)
Pardon, Blount, I spoke lightly; but do not mistake,—
On mine honour, the peace of the land is at stake.
Yes, the peace and the freedom! Were Hampden himself
Living still, would he side with the Stuart or Guelph?
When the Cæsars the freedom of Rome overthrew,
All its forms they maintained—'twas its spirit they slew!
Shall the freedom of England go down to the grave?
No! the forms let us scorn, so the spirit we save.

BLOUNT.
England's peace and her freedom depend on your bill?

WALPOLE
(seriously).
Thou know'st it—and therefore—

BLOUNT.
My aid you ask still?

WALPOLE.
Nay, no longer I ask, 'tis thy country petitions.

BLOUNT.
But you talked about terms.

WALPOLE
(pushing pen and paper to him).
There, then, write your conditions.

(Blount writes, folds the paper, gives it to Walpole, bows, and exit.)
WALPOLE
(reading).
“'Mongst the men who are bought to save England inscribe me,
And my bribe is the head of the man who would bribe me.”
Eh! my head! That ambition is much too high-reaching;
I suspect that the crocodile hints at impeaching.
And he calls himself honest! What highwayman's worse?—
Thus to threaten my life when I offer my purse.
Hem! he can't be in debt, as the common talk runs,
For the man who scorns money has never known duns.
And yet have him I must! Shall I force or entice?
Let me think—let me think; every man has his price.
(Exit Walpole.)