JOHN HOWARD PAYNE, WASHINGTON IRVING
155
there you touch a soft corner of my heart—did you but know how I love this little girl. Psha! I'm a foolish old fellow, and when I have got punch, and sensibility, and all that on board—Come, let's talk of something else.
Mary. My dear uncle—
Chas. I don't wonder at your loving her, I can't help feeling a kind of admiration for her myself—(offering to take her hand).
Copp. Softly, shipmate, no grappling—admire at a distance as much as you please, but hands off. Come, my lads, a merry song—I love to sing when I drink. (Sings.)
In the time of the Rump,
As old Admiral Trump—
Mary. Not that song, my dear uncle—I entreat—
Copp. Ah, I recollect—ha! ha! my poor song; ha! ha!—well, well, since you don't like me to sing, sing it for me yourself, Mary.
Chas. Ay, a song from the charming Mary (significantly), I dare say your master has some pretty love-song for you.
Edw. Oh, yes—I have brought one of the latest in vogue—one by the most fashionable poet of the day—the Earl of Rochester.
Copp. Rochester? fire and fury—roast Rochester! a rascally rogue!—the devil take Rochester, and his song, too!
Chas. Bravo! Captain Copp—another broadside, old boy.
Roch. Why, what the deuce, neighbor—has your powder magazine taken fire? Why, what has Rochester done to you, to occasion such a terrible explosion?
Copp. What's that to you? What have you to do with my family secrets? Rochester! His very name makes my blood boil—
Mary. My dear uncle, be calm. You promised never to speak on this subject.
Roch. Why, what connexion can there be between you and Rochester?
Copp. No matter, he has been put to the proof, that's enough. (To Mary.) Don't be uneasy—I'll say no more about it, my girl. You know me—when I say mum, that's enough.
Chas. This affair seems curious—I must have an explanation. (With an air of authority.) It is my pleasure—
Copp. Your pleasure, quotha—and who the devil are you? You're a pleasant blade. (Sturdily.) But it's not my pleasure, messmate, look ye.
Chas. (Recollecting himself.) I mean to say, that I feel a deep interest in your welfare.
Copp (gruffly). Thank ye, thank'e,—but I am not used to such warm friends on such short acquaintance. (Apart.) I wonder is it myself, or my niece, this chap has fallen in love with at first sight?
Chas. (apart to Rochester). I am curious to know what charge they have against you.
Roch. (apart to Charles). And so am I, and I'll make this old buccaneer speak plain, before we leave him.
Chas. You have misunderstood me, friend Copp. I am no defender of Rochester. I know him to be a sad fellow.
Copp. As destitute of feeling as a stock-fish.
Edw. He is a great genius, however.
Copp. He is an evil genius, I know.
Edw. He has a very clear head—
Copp. But a very black heart.
Roch. This Rochester is a sad light-headed fellow, that's notorious; but will you have the goodness, my blunt Captain Copp, to mention one heartless act of his?
Copp (loudly). Ay, that I will. Is it not a burning shame—
Mary. My dear uncle, you forget your promise.
Copp. Let me alone, girl, let me alone—you've nothing to fear; I have you under convoy.
Roch. Out with it, what is his crime?
Copp. Crime! Is it not a burning shame, I say, to disclaim his own niece—to keep from her every stiver of her little fortune, and leave her to pass her days in a tavern, when she has a right to inhabit a palace?
Edw. (eagerly). What do I hear?
Roch. What, and is this young woman the niece? How can that be?
Copp. Simply enough. Her father, Philip Copland, married a sister of Lord Rochester.
Roch. (apart). Philip Copland is indeed the name.
Chas. This is most singular. And this Philip Copland was your brother?
Copp. Ay, but worth a dozen of me—a steady man, an able officer, an ornament of the regular navy. I was always a wild dog, and never took to learning—
