happy as if I was at a
fire, or a general riot.--Come to my arms, thou angel--thou--[_As he
goes to embrace her, LORD SCRATCH enters--he embraces him._]
Ah,--Scratch!--my friend Scratch!--sit down, my old boy--sit
down,--we've settled every thing. [_Forces him into a Chair, and sits by
him._]

_Lord._ Why,--what is all this?

_Ennui._ She's to intrigue, and you and I are to go halves in the
damages--some rich old Nabob--we'll draw him into _crim. con._--bring an
action directly, and a ten thousand pound verdict at least--eh, damme!--

_Lord._ Why he's mad!--that dramatic maniac has bit him.

_Ennui._ Get a divorce--marry another, and go halves again, damme!

_Lord._ [_Rising._] Why, look ye, you impostor!--you--didn't you come
here to pay your addresses to this lady? and wasn't I to bring you into
parliament, for your quiet silent disposition?

_Ennui._ [_Pushing him out of his way._] Hold your tongue! out of the
way, Scratch!--out of the way, or I'll do you a mischief--I will,
damme!--Zounds!--a'nt I at the top of the beau monde? and don't I set
the fashions?--if I was to cut off my head, wouldn't half the town do
the same?--they would, damme!--I get sleepy again!--yaw--aw!-- [_Aside._

_Lord._ Here now!--here's a mandarin member;--why, he'd have bred a
civil war!--made ten long speeches in a day!--cut your head off,
indeed!--curse me but I wish you would--you must be silent then--you
couldn't talk without a head, could you?

_Ennui._ Yes, in parliament--as well without a head as with one--do you
think a man wants a head for a long speech, damme!--

_Enter SERVANT._

_Servant._ Her ladyship is waiting, ma'am.

_Louisa._ Oh, I attend her,--Mr Ennui, your most obedient.

_Ennui._ [_Taking her Hand._] With your leave, ma'am.--You see,
Scratch--you see.

_Lord._ Why, Louisa!--

_Ennui._ Keep your distance, Scratch--contemplate your superiors,--look
at me with the same awful respect a city beau looks at a prince,--this
way, most angelic--Scratch, cut your head off--this way, most angelic.
[_Exit with LOUISA._

_Lord._ Here's treatment!--was ever poor peer so tormented?--what am I
to do?--I'll go to Lady Waitfor't, for from her alone I meet
relief,--find a silent member, indeed!--by my privilege one might as
soon find a pin in the ocean,--charity in a bench of bishops,--or wit in
Westminster hall! [_Exit._