Landlord. John! you idle, good-for-nothing vagabond, why don't you come when you're called—eh?
Susan. Oh, sir! John was just coming, sir; and so was I, sir, if you please.
Landlord. You, indeed—ugh! you're just as bad as he is, making love in corners, (aside, Wonder whether she does really,) instead of attending to the customers; nice set of servants I have, to be sure. If this is all one gets by inn-keeping, it's not worth having. I keep the inn, and I expect the inn to keep me. (Aside. Horrid old joke, what made me put that in, I wonder? just like me—umph.') There's my wife, too—pretty hostess she makes.
John. So she does, master, sure-ly.
Landlord. Hold your tongue, fool—what do you know about it? (Bell rings.) There, do you hear that? run and see who that is, or I shall lose a customer by your carelessness next. Oh! the bother of servants—oh! the trouble of keeping an inn! (Hobbles out, driving Susan and John before him. Curtain falls.)
As the first scene ended the audience applauded loudly, and then began hazarding various conjectures as to the possible meaning of what they had witnessed. While the confusion of sounds was at the highest, Oaklands drew me on one side, and inquired, in an undertone, what I thought of Lawless's acting. “I was agreeably surprised,” returned I, “I had no notion he would have entered into the part so thoroughly, or have acted with so much spirit.”
“He did it con amore, certainly,” replied Oaklands with bitterness; “I considered his manner impertinent in the highest degree, I wonder you can allow him to act with your sister; that man is in love with her—I feel sure of it—he meant every word he said. I hate this kind of thing altogether—I never approved of it; no lady should be subjected to such annoyance.”
“Supposing it really were as you fancy, Harry, how do you know it would be so great an annoyance? It is just possible Fanny may like him,” rejoined I.
“Oh, certainly! pray let me know when I am to congratulate you,” replied Oaklands with a scornful laugh; and, turning away abruptly, he crossed the room, joined a party of young ladies, and began talking and laughing with a degree of recklessness and excitability quite unusual to him. While he was so doing, the curtain drew up, and discovered
Scene II.—Best room in the inn.