The Nephews: A Play, in Five Acts.

Excerpt

ACT I.

SCENE I.

At the Chancellor's House.

COUNSELLOR FLEFFEL, LEWIS BROOK, at Breakfast.

Enter a Servant.

Counsellor (to the Servant).

Take away. But, no—let it stand; my father may chuse some: is he returned?

Servant. I'll enquire, Sir. [Exit Servant.

Counsellor [rising and viewing himself]. We've made a long breakfast.

Lewis. But you have eaten nothing.

Counsellor. Why, my dear friend, I'm quite uneasy about my growing so fat.

Lewis [ironically]. Oh, certainly; All the affecting graces of a pining love-sick swain will be destroyed: you'll lose all your credit with the ladies.—Apropos of ladies, how do you stand with Miss Drave?

Counsellor. Ill enough. Your worthy guardian and the whole family are so intolerably stiff.

Lewis. Don't say I told you; but you certainly are the happy man.

Counsellor. I?—No indeed; it is rather you.

Lewis. You have nothing to fear from me. You know my passion for your sister. But for that grave, melancholy gentleman, my dear brother, I'd have you beware of him.

Counsellor [laughs] Excellent! As if such a sour misanthrope could please any one, particularly a young girl.

Lewis. Tastes are different; and besides, my serious guardian is his friend.

Counsellor. So much the worse for you.

Lewis. No matter.

Counsellor. How! Believe me, this excellent brother of yours is continually defaming you.

Lewis. I know it very well.

Counsellor. And he is now striving——

Lewis. I know what you would say; to enforce the clause of my father's will.

Counsellor. Tell me, how is this clause worded?

Lewis. If one of his sons should turn out a prodigal, the other is declared his tutor.

Counsellor. It is a shocking clause.

Lewis. It is indeed. Yet, should they attempt it—by heavens!—But to the purpose—your father is still willing to give me your sister?

Counsellor. Certainly.

Lewis. But take care then I have some of the ready with her.

Counsellor. Oh, you may depend upon that.

Lewis. Not any of your father's own; only my share of the fortune of old Crack-brains.

Counsellor. Old Crack-brains! What do you mean?

Lewis. As if you did not know! Why my old uncle, to whom you have prescribed a little wholesome confinement, by way of cure for his pretended madness.

Counsellor. Oh! that old man! So, so.

Lewis. Exactly. You always seem wonderfully at a loss when that point is touch'd.

Counsellor. But—I was going to observe—yes—it might be done, had he not escaped—but now it is uncertain whether he is alive, or what is become of him.

Lewis. I say he is dead.

Counsellor. But we have not heard.

Lewis. He shall be dead.

Counsellor. But——

Lewis. Why a live man is as easily declared to be dead, as a man in his senses to be mad; and if he should make his appearance, you can secure him again.

Counsellor. No! who would do that?

Lewis. Zounds! what a tender conscience! If my uncle could be declared mad, by your good-nature, that you might shew your Christian charity, in managing his estate, I am sure your noble heart would have no scruple to advance a part of the inheritance to the lawful heir....