BARON. Keep to prose.

BUTLER. I will, mu Lord; but I have repeated it so often in verse, I scarce know how.--Count Ca.s.sel, influenced by the designs of Cupid in his very worst humour,

"Count Ca.s.sel wooed this maid so rare, And in her eye found grace; And if his purpose was not fair,"

BARON. No verse.

BUTLER.

"It probably was base."

I beg pardon, my Lord; but the verse will intrude in spite of my efforts to forget it. 'Tis as difficult for me at times to forget, as 'tis for other men at times to remember. But in plain truth, my Lord, the Count was treacherous, cruel, forsworn.

BARON. I am astonished!

BUTLER. And would be more so if you would listen to the whole poem.

[Most earnestly.] Pray, my Lord, listen to it.

BARON. You know the family? All the parties?

BUTLER. I will bring the father of the damsel to prove the veracity of my muse. His name is Baden--poor old man!

"The sire consents to bless the pair, And names the nuptial day, When, lo! the bridegroom was not there, Because he was away."

BARON. But tell me--Had the father his daughter's innocence to deplore?

BUTLER. Ah! my Lord, ah! and you _must_ hear that part in rhyme.

Loss of innocence never sounds well except in verse.

"For ah! the very night before, No prudent guard upon her, The Count he gave her oaths a score, And took in change her honour.

MORAL.

Then you, who now lead single lives, From this sad tale beware; And do not act as you were wives, Before you really are."

Enter COUNT Ca.s.sEL.

BARON [to the Butler]. Leave the room instantly.

COUNT. Yes, good Mr. family poet, leave the room, and take your doggerels with you.

BUTLER. Don't affront my poem, your honour; for I am indebted to you for the plot.

"The Count he gave her oaths a score And took in change her honour."

[Exit Butler.

BARON. Count, you see me agitated.

COUNT. What can be the cause?

BARON. I'll not keep you in doubt a moment. You are accused, young man, of being engaged to another woman while you offer marriage to my child.

COUNT. To only _one_ other woman?

BARON. What do you mean?

COUNT. My meaning is, that when a man is young and rich, has travelled, and is no personal object of disapprobation, to have made vows but to one woman, is an absolute slight upon the rest of the s.e.x.

BARON. Without evasion, Sir, do you know the name of Baden? Was there ever a promise of marriage made by you to his daughter? Answer me plainly: or must I take a journey to inquire of the father?

COUNT. No--he can tell you no more than, I dare say, you already know; and which I shall not contradict.

BARON. Amazing insensibility! And can you hold your head erect while you acknowledge perfidy?

COUNT. My dear baron,--if every man, who deserves to have a charge such as this brought against him, was not permitted to look up--it is a doubt whom we might not meet crawling on all fours. [he accidently taps the Baron's shoulder.]

BARON [starts--recollects himself--then in a faultering voice].

Yet--nevertheless-the act is so atrocious--

COUNT. But nothing new.

BARON [faintly]. Yes--I hope--I hope it is new.

COUNT. What, did you never meet with such a thing before?

BARON [agitated]. If I have--I p.r.o.nounced the man who so offended--a villain.

COUNT. You are singularly scrupulous. I question if the man thought himself so.

BARON. Yes he did.

COUNT. How do you know?

BARON [hesitating]. I have heard him say so.

COUNT. But he ate, drank, and slept, I suppose?

BARON [confused]. Perhaps he did.

COUNT. And was merry with his friends; and his friends as fond of him as ever?

BARON. Perhaps [confused]--perhaps they were.

COUNT. And perhaps he now and then took upon him to lecture young men for their gallantries?

BARON. Perhaps he did.

COUNT. Why, then, after all, Baron, your villain is a mighty good, prudent, honest fellow; and I have no objection to your giving me that name.

BARON. But do you not think of some atonement to the unfortunate girl?