University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Blount, Veasey.
Blount.
What! shall I, Selden Blount, be a popinjay's scoff?
Mr Veasey, your servant.

VEASEY.
I trust, on the whole,
That you've settled with Walpole the prices of coal.

BLOUNT.
Coals be—lighted below! Sir, the country's in danger.

VEASEY.
To that fact Walpole says that no patriot's a stranger.

BLOUNT.
With the safety of England myself I will task,
If you hold yourself licensed to grant what I ask.

VEASEY.
Whatsoever the terms of a patriot so stanch,
Walpole gives you—I speak as his proxy—carte blanche.

BLOUNT.
If I break private ties where the Public's at stake,
Still my friend is my friend: the condition I make
Is to keep him shut up from all share in rash strife,
And secure him from danger to fortune and life.

VEASEY.
Blount—agreed. And this friend? Scarce a moment ago
I marked Sidney Bellair in close talk with—

BLOUNT.
I know.
There's a plot to be checked ere it start into shape.
Hark! Bellair had a hand in Lord Nithsdale's escape!

VEASEY.
That's abetment of treason.

BLOUNT.
Read this, and attend.
(Gives Nithsdale's note to Bellair which Veasey reads.)
Snares atrocious are set to entrap my poor friend
In an outbreak to follow that Jacobite's flight—

VEASEY.
In an outbreak. Where?—when?

BLOUNT.
Hush! in London to-night.
He is thoughtless and young. Act on this information.
Quick—arrest him at once; and watch over the nation.

VEASEY.
No precaution too great against men disaffected.

BLOUNT.
And the law gives you leave to confine the suspected.

VEASEY.
Ay, this note will suffice for a warrant. Be sure,
Ere the clock strike the quarter, your friend is secure.
(Exit Veasey.)

BLOUNT.
Good; my rival to-night will be swept from my way,
And John Jones shall wake easy eno' the next day.
Do I still love this girl? No, my hate is so strong,
That to me, whom she mocks, she alone shall belong.
I need trust to that saleable Vizard no more.
Ha! I stand as Bellair the bride's window before.
Oh, when love comes so late how it maddens the brain,
Between shame for our folly, and rage at our pain!

(Exit.)