but himself--I know his hand, and manner of spelling. Fourthly ENTER BUTLER. BUTLER. Sir, here's a strange old gentleman that asks for you; he says he's a conjurer, but he looks very suspicious; I wish he ben't a Jesuit. VELLUM. Admit him immediately. BUTLER. I wish he ben't a Jesuit; but he says he's nothing but a conjurer. VELLUM. He is no more than a conjurer. He says right Bring him in, and withdraw. [Exit Butler. And, fourthly, as I was saying, because ENTER BUTLER WITH SIR GEORGE. BUTLER. Sir, here is the conjurer-What a devilish long beard he has! I warrant it has been growing these hundred years. SIR GEORGE. [Aside. Exit. Dear Vellum! you have received my letter; but before we proceed, lock the door. It is his voice.. VELLUM. [Shuts the door. SIR GEORGE. In the next place, help me off with this cumbersome cloak. It is his shape. VELLUM. SIR GEORGE. So, now lay my beard upon the table. VELLUM. [After having looked on Sir George through his spectacles. It is his face, every lineament! SIR GEORGE. Well, now I have put off the conjurer and the old man, I can talk to thee more at my ease. VELLUM. Believe me, my good master, I am as much rejoiced to see you alive, as I was upon the day you were born. Your name was, in all the newspapers, in the list of those that were slain. SIR GEORGE. We have not time to be particular. I shall only tell thee in general, that I was taken prisoner in the battle, and was under close confinement for several months. Upon my release, I was resolv'd to surprise my wife with the news of my being alive. I know, Vellum, you are a person of so much penetration, that I need not use any farther arguments to convince you I am so. VELLUM. I am and moreover I question not but your good lady will likewise be convinc'd of it. Her ho-nour is a discerning lady. SIR GEORGE. I'm only afraid she should be convinc'd of it to her sorrow. Is not she pleas'd with her imaginary widowhood? Tell me truly, was she afflicted at the report of my death? Sorely. VELLUM. SIR GEORGE. How long did her grief last? VELLUM. Longer than I have known any widow's at least three days. Three days, say'st thou? Three whole days? I'm afraid thou flatterest me!-O woman! woman! This blockhead is as methodical as ever-but I know he's honest. VELLUM. [Aside. There is a real grief, and there is a methodical grief; she was drowned in tears till such time as the taylor had made her widow's weeds-Indeed they became her. SIR GEORGE. Became her! and was that her comfort? Truly, a most seasonable consolation! VELLUM. But, I must needs say, she paid a due regard to your memory, and could not forbear weeping when she saw company. SIR GEORGE. That was kind indeed! I find she griev'd with a great deal of good breeding. But how comes this gang of lovers about her? But her character is unblemished. She has been as virtuous in your absence as a Penelope There thou reviv'st me-but what means this Tinsel? Are his visits acceptable? Sure she could never entertain a thought of marrying such a coxcomb! He is not ill made. VELLUM. SIR GEORGE. Are the vows and protestations that pass'd between us come to this! I can't bear the thought of it! Is Tinsel the man design'd for my worthy successor. VELLUM. You do not consider that you have been dead these fourteen months SIR GEORGE. Was there ever such a dog? VELLUM. [Aside. And I have often heard her say, that she must never expect to find a second Sir George Truman--meaning your ho--nour. SIR GEORGE. I think she lov'd me; but I must search into this story of the Drummer before I discover myself to her. I have put on this habit of a conjurer, in order to introduce myself. It must be your business to recom |