life which
occasioned him to suppose that he had taken the tender passion extempore.
Some sort of villany seems absolutely necessary to every species of play.
To continue the parallel we commenced with between tragedy and farce, we
observe that in the former he is usually such a person as _Spinola_, in
"Nina Sforza," whilst a farce-villain turns out to be in most instances an
intriguing widow, a lawyer, or a mischievous young lady. The rogue in
"Love Extempore" is _Mrs. Courtnay_, a widow, who, with the assistance of
_Sir Harry Nugent_, contrives a plot by which the hitherto insensible
_Livingstone_ shall fall a victim to love and her friend _Prudence
Oldstock_; with whose mother and sister the widow and her co-intriguant
are staying on a visit.
The moment fatal to Livingstone's virgin heart and unrestrained liberty
arrives. He calls to pay a morning visit, and instantly the deep design is
put into execution. _Sir Harry_ begins by a most extravagant puff
preliminary of the talents, accomplishments, virtues, beauty, disposition,
endowments, and graces belonging to the enchanting _Prudence_. He and the
widow exhibit her drawings,--_Livingstone_ is in raptures, or pretends to
be (for he is not an ill-bred man). What a piercing expression flashes
from those studies of eyes (in chalk)! what an artistical grouping of
legs! what a Saracen's-head-upon-Snow-hill-like ferocity frowns from that
Indian chief!
At this juncture the captivating artist is herself introduced. _Mr.
Livingstone's_ modesty strikes him into a heap of confusion. "He sighs and
looks, and looks and sighs again,"--he does not know "what to say, or how
to say it; so that the trembling bachelor may become a wise and good
lover." He stutters and hems in the utmost distress; to increase which,
all his tormentors turn up the stage, leaving him to entertain the lady
alone. The sketches naturally suggest a topic, and, plunging _in medias
res_ at once, he vehemently praises her legs! The lady is astonished, and
the mamma alarmed; but having explained that the allusion was to the
drawings, he is afterwards punished for the blunder by being threatened
with a song. Though at a loss to find out what he has done to deserve such
an infliction, he submits; for he is very sleepy, and sinks into a chair
in an attitude of supposed attention, but really in a posture best adapted
for a nap. When the song is ended the applause of course comes in; this
awakens _Livingstone_ in
|