Produced by Kent Cooper




The RIVALS
A Comedy

By Richard Brinsley Sheridan


* * * * * * *

PREFACE

A preface to a play seems generally to be considered as a kind of
closet-prologue, in which--if his piece has been successful--the author
solicits that indulgence from the reader which he had before
experienced from the audience: but as the scope and immediate object of
a play is to please a mixed assembly in _representation_ (whose
judgment in the theatre at least is decisive,) its degree of reputation
is usually as determined as public, before it can be prepared for the
cooler tribunal of the study. Thus any farther solicitude on the part
of the writer becomes unnecessary at least, if not an intrusion: and if
the piece has been condemned in the performance, I fear an address to
the closet, like an appeal to posterity, is constantly regarded as the
procrastination of a suit, from a consciousness of the weakness of the
cause. From these considerations, the following comedy would certainly
have been submitted to the reader, without any farther introduction
than what it had in the representation, but that its success has
probably been founded on a circumstance which the author is informed
has not before attended a theatrical trial, and which consequently
ought not to pass unnoticed.

I need scarcely add, that the circumstance alluded to was the
withdrawing of the piece, to remove those imperfections in the first
representation which were too obvious to escape reprehension, and too
numerous to admit of a hasty correction. There are few writers, I
believe, who, even in the fullest consciousness of error, do not wish
to palliate the faults which they acknowledge; and, however trifling
the performance, to second their confession of its deficiencies, by
whatever plea seems least disgraceful to their ability. In the present
instance, it cannot be said to amount either to candour or modesty in
me, to acknowledge an extreme inexperience and want of judgment on
matters, in which, without guidance from practice, or spur from
success, a young man should scarcely boast of being an adept. If it be
said, that under such disadvantages no one should attempt to write a
play, I must beg leave to dissent from the position, while the first
point of experience that I have gained on the subject is, a knowledge
of the candour and judgment with which an impartial public
distinguishes between the errors of inexperience and incapacity, and
the indulgence which it shows even to a disposition to remedy the
defects of either.

It were unnecessary to enter into any further extenuation of what was
thought exceptionable in this play, but that it has been said, that the
managers should have prevented some of the defects before its
appearance to the public--and in particular the uncommon length of the
piece as represented the first night. It were an ill return for the
most liberal and gentlemanly conduct on their side, to suffer any
censure to rest where none was deserved. Hurry in writing has long been
exploded as an excuse for an author;--however, in the dramatic line,
it may happen, that both an author and a manager may wish to fill a
chasm in the entertainment of the public with a hastiness not
altogether culpable. The season was advanced when I first put the play
into Mr. Harris's hands: it was at that time at least double the length
of any acting comedy. I profited by his judgment and experience in the
curtailing of it--till, I believe, his feeling for the vanity of a
young author got the better of his desire for correctness, and he left
many excrescences remaining, because he had assisted in pruning so many
more. Hence, though I was not uninformed that the acts were still too
long, I flattered myself that, after the first trial, I might with
safer judgment proceed to remove what should appear to have been most
dissatisfactory. Many other errors there were, which might in part have
arisen from my being by no means conversant with plays in general,
either in reading or at the theatre. Yet I own that, in one respect, I
did not regret my ignorance: for as my first wish in attempting a play
was to avoid every appearance of plagiary, I thought I should stand a
better chance of effecting this from being in a walk which I had not
frequented, and where, consequently, the progress of invention was less
likely to be interrupted by starts of recollection: for on subjects on
which the mind has been much informed, invention is slow of exerting
itself. Faded ideas float in the fancy like half-forgotten dreams; and
the imagination in its fullest enjoyments becomes suspicious of its
offspring, and doubts whether it has created or adopted.

With regard to some particular passages which on the first night's
representation seemed generally disliked, I confess, that if I felt any
emotion of surprise at the disapprobation, it was not that they were
disapproved of, but that I had not before perceived that they deserved
it. As some part of the attack on the piece was begun too early to pass
for the sentence of _judgment_, which is ever tardy in condemning, it
has been suggested to me, that much of the disapprobation must have
arisen from virulence of malice, rather than severity of criticism: but
as I was more apprehensive of there being just grounds to excite the
latter than conscious of having deserved the former, I continue not to
believe that probable, which I am sure must have been unprovoked.
However, if it was so, and I could even mark the quarter from whence it
came, it would be ungenerous to retort: for no passion suffers more
than malice from disappointment. For my own part, I see no reason why
the author of a play should not regard a first night's audience as a
candid and judicious friend attending, in behalf of the public, at his
last rehearsal. If he can dispense with flattery, he is sure at least
of sincerity, and even though the annotation be rude, he may rely upon
the justness of the comment. Considered in this light, that audience,
whose _fiat_ is essential to the poet's claim, whether his object be
fame or profit, has surely a right to expect some deference to its
opinion, from principles of politeness at least, if not from gratitude.

As for the little puny critics, who scatter their peevish strictures in
private circles, and scribble at every author who has the eminence of
being unconnected with them, as they are usually spleen-swoln from a
vain idea of increasing their consequence, there will always be found
a petulance and illiberality in their remarks, which should place them
as far beneath the notice of a gentleman, as their original dulness had
sunk them from the level of the most unsuccessful author.

It is not without pleasure that I catch at an opportunity of justifying
myself from the charge of intending any national reflection in the
character of Sir Lucius O'Trigger. If any gentlemen opposed the piece
from that idea, I thank them sincerely for their opposition; and if the
condemnation of this comedy (however misconceived the provocation)
could have added one spark to the decaying flame of national attachment
to the country supposed to be reflected on, I should have been happy in
its fate, and might with truth have boasted, that it had done more real
service in its failure, than the successful morality of a thousand
stage-novels will ever effect.

It is usual, I believe, to thank the performers in a new play, for the
exertion of their several abilities. But where (as in this instance)
their merit has been so striking and uncontroverted, as to call for the
warmest and truest applause from a number of judicious audiences, the
poet's after-praise comes like the feeble acclamation of a child to
close the shouts of a multitude. The conduct, however, of the
principals in a theatre cannot be so apparent to the public. I think
it therefore but justice to declare, that from this theatre (the only
one I can speak of from experience) those writers who wish to try the
dramatic line will meet with that candour and liberal attention, which
are generally allowed to be better calculated to lead genius into
excellence, than either the precepts of judgment, or the guidance of
experience.

The AUTHOR

* * * * * * *

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  As originally acted at COVENT GARDEN THEATRE in 1775

  Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE
  CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE
  FAULKLAND
  ACRES
  Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER
  FAG
  DAVID
  THOMAS
  Mrs. MALAPROP
  LYDIA LANGUISH
  JULIA
  LUCY
  Maid, Boy, Servants, &c.

SCENE--Bath.

Time of action--Five hours.

* * * * * * *

PROLOGUE
By the AUTHOR

[Enter SERJEANT-AT-LAW, and ATTORNEY following, and giving a paper.]

SERJEANT
  What's here!--a vile cramp hand! I cannot see
  Without my spectacles.

ATTORNEY
                        He means his fee.
  Nay, Mr. Serjeant, good sir, try again.  [Gives money.]

SERJEANT
  The scrawl improves! [more] O come, 'tis pretty plain.
  Hey! how's this? Dibble!--sure it cannot be!
  A poet's brief! a poet and a fee!

ATTORNEY
  Yes, sir! though you without reward, I know,
  Would gladly plead the Muse's cause.

SERJEANT
                                      So!--so!

ATTORNEY
  And if the fee offends, your wrath should fall
  On me.

SERJEANT
        Dear Dibble, no offence at all.

ATTORNEY
  Some sons of Phoebus in the courts we meet,

SERJEANT
  And fifty sons of Phoebus in the Fleet!

ATTORNEY
  Nor pleads he worse, who with a decent sprig
  Of bays adorns his legal waste of wig.

SERJEANT
  Full-bottom'd heroes thus, on signs, unfurl
  A leaf of laurel in a grove of curl!
  Yet tell your client, that, in adverse days,
  This wig is warmer than a bush of bays.

ATTORNEY
  Do you, then, sir, my client's place supply,
  Profuse of robe, and prodigal of tie--
  Do you, with all those blushing powers of face,
  And wonted bashful hesitating grace,
  Rise in the court, and flourish on the case.  [Exit.]

SERJEANT
  For practice then suppose--this brief will show it,--
  Me, Serjeant Woodward,--counsel for the poet.
  Used to the ground, I know 'tis hard to deal
  With this dread court, from whence there's no appeal;
  No tricking here, to blunt the edge of law,
  Or, damn'd in equity, escape by flaw:
  But judgment given, your sentence must remain;
  No writ of error lies--to Drury Lane:
    Yet when so kind you seem, 'tis past dispute
  We gain some favour, if not costs of suit.
  No spleen is here! I see no hoarded fury;--
  I think I never faced a milder jury!
  Sad else our plight! where frowns are transportation.
  A hiss the gallows, and a groan damnation!
  But such the public candour, without fear
  My client waives all right of challenge here.
  No newsman from our session is dismiss'd,
  Nor wit nor critic we scratch off the list;
  His faults can never hurt another's ease,
  His crime, at worst, a bad attempt to please:
  Thus, all respecting, he appeals to all,
  And by the general voice will stand or fall.

* * * * * * *

Prologue
By the AUTHOR

SPOKEN ON THE TENTH NIGHT, BY MRS. BULKLEY.

  Granted our cause, our suit and trial o'er,
  The worthy serjeant need appear no more:
  In pleasing I a different client choose,
  He served the Poet--I would serve the Muse.
  Like him, I'll try to merit your applause,
  A female counsel in a female's cause.
    Look on this form--where humour, quaint and sly,
  Dimples the cheek, and points the beaming eye;
  Where gay invention seems to boast its wiles
  In amorous hint, and half-triumphant smiles;
  While her light mask or covers satire's strokes,
  Or hides the conscious blush her wit provokes.
  Look on her well--does she seem form'd to teach?
  Should you expect to hear this lady preach?
  Is grey experience suited to her youth?
  Do solemn sentiments become that mouth?
  Bid her be grave, those lips should rebel prove
  To every theme that slanders mirth or love.
    Yet, thus adorn'd with every graceful art
  To charm the fancy and yet reach the heart--
  Must we displace her? And instead advance
  The goddess of the woful countenance--
  The sentimental Muse!--Her emblems view,
  The Pilgrim's Progress, and a sprig of rue!
  View her--too chaste to look like flesh and blood--
  Primly portray'd on emblematic wood!
  There, fix'd in usurpation, should she stand,
  She'll snatch the dagger from her sister's hand:
  And having made her votaries weep a flood,
  Good heaven! she'll end her comedies in blood--
  Bid Harry Woodward break poor Dunstal's crown!
  Imprison Quick, and knock Ned Shuter down;
  While sad Barsanti, weeping o'er the scene,
  Shall stab herself--or poison Mrs. Green.
    Such dire encroachments to prevent in time,
  Demands the critic's voice--the poet's rhyme.
  Can our light scenes add strength to holy laws!
  Such puny patronage but hurts the cause:
  Fair virtue scorns our feeble aid to ask;
  And moral truth disdains the trickster's mask
  For here their favourite stands, whose brow severe
  And sad, claims youth's respect, and pity's tear;
  Who, when oppress'd by foes her worth creates,
  Can point a poniard at the guilt she hates.


* * * * * * * * * * *

THE RIVALS

* * * * * * * * * * *


ACT I

* * * * * * *


Scene I.--A street.
[Enter THOMAS; he crosses the stage; FAG follows, looking after him.]

FAG
What! Thomas! sure 'tis he?--What! Thomas! Thomas!

THOMAS
Hey!--Odd's life! Mr. Fag!--give us your hand, my old fellow-servant.

FAG
Excuse my glove, Thomas:--I'm devilish glad to see you, my lad. Why, my
prince of charioteers, you look as hearty!--but who the deuce thought
of seeing you in Bath?

THOMAS
Sure, master, Madam Julia, Harry, Mrs. Kate, and the postillion, be all
come.

FAG
Indeed!

THOMAS
Ay, master thought another fit of the gout was coming to make him a
visit;--so he'd a mind to gi't the slip, and whip! we were all off at
an hour's warning.

FAG
Ay, ay, hasty in every thing, or it would not be Sir Anthony Absolute!

THOMAS
But tell us, Mr. Fag, how does young master? Odd! Sir Anthony will
stare to see the Captain here!

FAG
I do not serve Captain Absolute now.

THOMAS
Why sure!

FAG
At present I am employed by Ensign Beverley.

THOMAS
I doubt, Mr. Fag, you ha'n't changed for the better.

FAG
I have not changed, Thomas.

THOMAS
No! Why didn't you say you had left young master?

FAG
No.--Well, honest Thomas, I must puzzle you no farther:--briefly
then--Captain Absolute and Ensign Beverley are one and the same person.

THOMAS
The devil they are!

FAG
So it is indeed, Thomas; and the ensign half of my master being on
guard at present--the captain has nothing to do with me.

THOMAS
So, so!--What, this is some freak, I warrant!--Do tell us, Mr. Fag, the
meaning o't--you know I ha' trusted you.

FAG
You'll be secret, Thomas?

THOMAS
As a coach-horse.

FAG
Why then the cause of all this is--Love,--Love, Thomas, who (as you may
get read to you) has been a masquerader ever since the days of Jupiter.

THOMAS
Ay, ay;--I guessed there was a lady in the case:--but pray, why does
your master pass only for ensign?--Now if he had shammed general
indeed----

FAG
Ah! Thomas, there lies the mystery o' the matter. Hark'ee, Thomas, my
master is in love with a lady of a very singular taste: a lady who
likes him better as a half pay ensign than if she knew he was son and
heir to Sir Anthony Absolute, a baronet of three thousand a year.

THOMAS
That is an odd taste indeed!--But has she got the stuff, Mr. Fag? Is
she rich, hey?

FAG
Rich!--Why, I believe she owns half the stocks! Zounds! Thomas, she
could pay the national debt as easily as I could my washerwoman! She
has a lapdog that eats out of gold,--she feeds her parrot with small
pearls,--and all her thread-papers are made of bank-notes!

THOMAS
Bravo, faith!--Odd! I warrant she has a set of thousands at least:--but
does she draw kindly with the captain?

FAG
As fond as pigeons.

THOMAS
May one hear her name?

FAG
Miss Lydia Languish.--But there is an old tough aunt in the way;
though, by-the-by, she has never seen my master--for we got acquainted
with miss while on a visit in Gloucestershire.

THOMAS
Well--I wish they were once harnessed together in matrimony.--But pray,
Mr. Fag, what kind of a place is this Bath?--I ha' heard a deal of
it--here's a mort o' merrymaking, hey?

FAG
Pretty well, Thomas, pretty well--'tis a good lounge; in the morning we
go to the pump-room (though neither my master nor I drink the waters);
after breakfast we saunter on the parades, or play a game at billiards;
at night we dance; but damn the place, I'm tired of it: their regular
hours stupify me--not a fiddle nor a card after eleven!--However, Mr.
Faulkland's gentleman and I keep it up a little in private
parties;--I'll introduce you there, Thomas--you'll like him much.

THOMAS
Sure I know Mr. Du-Peigne--you know his master is to marry Madam Julia.

FAG
I had forgot.--But, Thomas, you must polish a little--indeed you
must.--Here now--this wig!--What the devil do you do with a wig,
Thomas?--None of the London whips of any degree of _ton_ wear wigs now.

THOMAS
More's the pity! more's the pity! I say.--Odd's life! when I heard how
the lawyers and doctors had took to their own hair, I thought how
'twould go next:--odd rabbit it! when the fashion had got foot on the
bar, I guessed 'twould mount to the box!--but 'tis all out of
character, believe me, Mr. Fag: and look'ee, I'll never gi' up
mine--the lawyers and doctors may do as they will.

FAG
Well, Thomas, we'll not quarrel about that.

THOMAS
Why, bless you, the gentlemen of the professions ben't all of a
mind--for in our village now, thoff Jack Gauge, the exciseman, has
ta'en to his carrots, there's little Dick the farrier swears he'll
never forsake his bob, though all the college should appear with their
own heads!

FAG
Indeed! well said, Dick!--But hold--mark! mark! Thomas.

THOMAS
Zooks! 'tis the captain.--Is that the Lady with him?

FAG
No, no, that is Madam Lucy, my master's mistress's maid. They lodge at
that house--but I must after him to tell him the news.

THOMAS
Odd! he's giving her money!--Well, Mr. Fag----

FAG
Good-bye, Thomas. I have an appointment in Gyde's porch this evening at
eight; meet me there, and we'll make a little party.

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * *


Scene II.--A Dressing-room in Mrs. MALAPROP's Lodgings.
[LYDIA sitting on a sofa, with a book in her hand. Lucy, as just
returned from a message.]

LUCY
Indeed, ma'am, I traversed half the town in search of it: I don't
believe there's a circulating library in Bath I ha'n't been at.

LYDIA
And could not you get _The Reward of Constancy_?

LUCY
No, indeed, ma'am.

LYDIA
Nor _The Fatal Connexion_?

LUCY
No, indeed, ma'am.

LYDIA
Nor _The Mistakes of the Heart_?

LUCY
Ma'am, as ill luck would have it, Mr. Bull said Miss Sukey Saunter had
just fetched it away.

LYDIA
Heigh-ho!--Did you inquire for _The Delicate Distress_?

LUCY
Or, _The Memoirs of Lady Woodford_? Yes, indeed, ma'am. I asked every
where for it; and I might have brought it from Mr. Frederick's, but
Lady Slattern Lounger, who had just sent it home, had so soiled and
dog's-eared it, it wa'n't fit for a Christian to read.

LYDIA
Heigh-ho!--Yes, I always know when Lady Slattern has been before me.
She has a most observing thumb; and, I believe, cherishes her nails for
the convenience of making marginal notes.--Well, child, what have you
brought me?

LUCY
Oh! here, ma'am.--[Taking books from under her cloak, and from her
pockets.] This is _The Gordian Knot_,--and this _Peregrine Pickle_.
Here are _The Tears of Sensibility_, and _Humphrey Clinker_. This is
_The Memoirs of a Lady of Quality, written by herself_, and here the
second volume of _The Sentimental Journey_.

LYDIA
Heigh-ho!--What are those books by the glass?

LUCY
The great one is only _The Whole Duty of Man_, where I press a few
blonds, ma'am.

LYDIA
Very well--give me the sal volatile.

LUCY
Is it in a blue cover, ma'am?

LYDIA
My smelling-bottle, you simpleton!

LUCY
Oh, the drops!--here, ma'am.

LYDIA
Hold!--here's some one coming--quick, see who it is.----

[Exit LUCY.]

Surely I heard my cousin Julia's voice.

[Re-enter LUCY.]

LUCY
Lud! ma'am, here is Miss Melville.

LYDIA
Is it possible!----

[Exit LUCY.]

[Enter JULIA.]

LYDIA
My dearest Julia, how delighted am I!--[Embrace.] How unexpected was
this happiness!

JULIA
True, Lydia--and our pleasure is the greater.--But what has been the
matter?--you were denied to me at first!

LYDIA
Ah, Julia, I have a thousand things to tell you!--But first inform me
what has conjured you to Bath?--Is Sir Anthony here?

JULIA
He is--we are arrived within this hour--and I suppose he will be here
to wait on Mrs. Malaprop as soon as he is dressed.

LYDIA
Then before we are interrupted, let me impart to you some of my
distress!--I know your gentle nature will sympathize with me, though
your prudence may condemn me! My letters have informed you of my whole
connection with Beverley; but I have lost him, Julia! My aunt has
discovered our intercourse by a note she intercepted, and has confined
me ever since! Yet, would you believe it? she has absolutely fallen in
love with a tall Irish baronet she met one night since we have been
here, at Lady Macshuffle's rout.

JULIA
You jest, Lydia!

LYDIA
No, upon my word.--She really carries on a kind of correspondence with
him, under a feigned name though, till she chooses to be known to
him:--but it is a Delia or a Celia, I assure you.

JULIA
Then, surely, she is now more indulgent to her niece.

LYDIA
Quite the contrary. Since she has discovered her own frailty, she is
become more suspicious of mine. Then I must inform you of another
plague!--That odious Acres is to be in Bath to-day; so that I protest I
shall be teased out of all spirits!

JULIA
Come, come, Lydia, hope for the best--Sir Anthony shall use his
interest with Mrs. Malaprop.

LYDIA
But you have not heard the worst. Unfortunately I had quarrelled with
my poor Beverley, just before my aunt made the discovery, and I have
not seen him since, to make it up.

JULIA
What was his offence?

LYDIA
Nothing at all!--But, I don't know how it was, as often as we had been
together, we had never had a quarrel, and, somehow, I was afraid he
would never give me an opportunity. So, last Thursday, I wrote a letter
to myself, to inform myself that Beverley was at that time paying his
addresses to another woman. I signed it _your friend unknown_, showed
it to Beverley, charged him with his falsehood, put myself in a violent
passion, and vowed I'd never see him more.

JULIA
And you let him depart so, and have not seen him since?

LYDIA
'Twas the next day my aunt found the matter out. I intended only to
have teased him three days and a half, and now I've lost him for ever.

JULIA
If he is as deserving and sincere as you have represented him to me, he
will never give you up so. Yet consider, Lydia, you tell me he is but
an ensign, and you have thirty thousand pounds.

LYDIA
But you know I lose most of my fortune if I marry without my aunt's
consent, till of age; and that is what I have determined to do, ever
since I knew the penalty. Nor could I love the man who would wish to
wait a day for the alternative.

JULIA
Nay, this is caprice!

LYDIA
What, does Julia tax me with caprice?--I thought her lover Faulkland
had inured her to it.

JULIA
I do not love even his faults.

LYDIA
But apropos--you have sent to him, I suppose?

JULIA
Not yet, upon my word--nor has he the least idea of my being in Bath.
Sir Anthony's resolution was so sudden, I could not inform him of it.

LYDIA
Well, Julia, you are your own mistress, (though under the protection of
Sir Anthony), yet have you, for this long year, been a slave to the
caprice, the whim, the jealousy of this ungrateful Faulkland, who will
ever delay assuming the right of a husband, while you suffer him to be
equally imperious as a lover.

JULIA
Nay, you are wrong entirely. We were contracted before my father's
death. That, and some consequent embarrassments, have delayed what I
know to be my Faulkland's most ardent wish. He is too generous to
trifle on such a point:--and for his character, you wrong him there,
too. No, Lydia, he is too proud, too noble to be jealous; if he is
captious, 'tis without dissembling; if fretful, without rudeness.
Unused to the fopperies of love, he is negligent of the little duties
expected from a lover--but being unhackneyed in the passion, his
affection is ardent and sincere; and as it engrosses his whole soul, he
expects every thought and emotion of his mistress to move in unison
with his. Yet, though his pride calls for this full return, his
humility makes him undervalue those qualities in him which would
entitle him to it; and not feeling why he should be loved to the degree
he wishes, he still suspects that he is not loved enough. This temper,
I must own, has cost me many unhappy hours; but I have learned to think
myself his debtor, for those imperfections which arise from the ardour
of his attachment.

LYDIA
Well, I cannot blame you for defending him. But tell me candidly,
Julia, had he never saved your life, do you think you should have been
attached to him as you are?--Believe me, the rude blast that overset
your boat was a prosperous gale of love to him.

JULIA
Gratitude may have strengthened my attachment to Mr. Faulkland, but I
loved him before he had preserved me; yet surely that alone were an
obligation sufficient.

LYDIA
Obligation! why a water spaniel would have done as much!--Well, I
should never think of giving my heart to a man because he could swim.

JULIA
Come, Lydia, you are too inconsiderate.

LYDIA
Nay, I do but jest.--What's here?

[Re-enter LUCY in a hurry.]

LUCY
O ma'am, here is Sir Anthony Absolute just come home with your aunt.

LYDIA
They'll not come here.--Lucy, do you watch.

[Exit LUCY.]

JULIA
Yet I must go. Sir Anthony does not know I am here, and if we meet,
he'll detain me, to show me the town. I'll take another opportunity of
paying my respects to Mrs. Malaprop, when she shall treat me, as long
as she chooses, with her select words so ingeniously misapplied,
without being mispronounced.

[Re-enter LUCY.]

LUCY
O Lud! ma'am, they are both coming up stairs.

LYDIA
Well, I'll not detain you, coz.--Adieu, my dear Julia. I'm sure you are
in haste to send to Faulkland.--There--through my room you'll find
another staircase.

JULIA
Adieu! [Embraces LYDIA, and exit.]

LYDIA
Here, my dear Lucy, hide these books. Quick, quick!--Fling _Peregrine
Pickle_ under the toilet--throw _Roderick Random_ into the closet--put
_The Innocent Adultery_ into _The Whole Duty of Man_--thrust _Lord
Aimworth_ under the sofa--cram _Ovid_ behind the bolster--there--put
_The Man of Feeling_ into your pocket--so, so--now lay _Mrs. Chapone_
in sight, and leave _Fordyce's Sermons_ open on the table.

LUCY
O burn it, ma'am! the hair-dresser has torn away as far as _Proper
Pride_.

LYDIA
Never mind--open at _Sobriety_.--Fling me _Lord Chesterfields
Letters_.--Now for 'em.

[Exit LUCY.]

[Enter Mrs. MALAPROP, and Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
There, Sir Anthony, there sits the deliberate simpleton who wants to
disgrace her family, and lavish herself on a fellow not worth a
shilling.

LYDIA
Madam, I thought you once----

Mrs. MALAPROP
You thought, miss! I don't know any business you have to think at
all--thought does not become a young woman. But the point we would
request of you is, that you will promise to forget this fellow--to
illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory.

LYDIA
Ah, madam! our memories are independent of our wills. It is not so easy
to forget.

Mrs. MALAPROP
But I say it is, miss; there is nothing on earth so easy as to forget,
if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I have as much forgot
your poor dear uncle as if he had never existed--and I thought it my
duty so to do; and let me tell you, Lydia, these violent memories don't
become a young woman.

Sir ANTHONY
Why sure she won't pretend to remember what she's ordered not!--ay,
this comes of her reading!

LYDIA
What crime, madam, have I committed, to be treated thus?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I
have proof controvertible of it.--But tell me, will you promise to do
as you're bid? Will you take a husband of your friends' choosing?

LYDIA
Madam, I must tell you plainly, that had I no preferment for any one
else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

Mrs. MALAPROP
What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don't
become a young woman; and you ought to know, that as both always wear
off, 'tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion. I am
sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage as if he'd been a
blackamoor--and yet, miss, you are sensible what a wife I made!--and
when it pleased Heaven to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears
I shed!--But suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you
promise us to give up this Beverley?

LYDIA
Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my actions
would certainly as far belie my words.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Take yourself to your room.--You are fit company for nothing but your
own ill-humours.

LYDIA
Willingly, ma'am--I cannot change for the worse. [Exit.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
There's a little intricate hussy for you!

Sir ANTHONY
It is not to be wondered at, ma'am,--all this is the natural
consequence of teaching girls to read. Had I a thousand daughters, by
Heaven! I'd as soon have them taught the black art as their alphabet!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Nay, nay, Sir Anthony, you are an absolute misanthropy.

Sir ANTHONY
In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece's maid coming
forth from a circulating library!--She had a book in each hand--they
were half-bound volumes, with marble covers!--From that moment I
guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Those are vile places, indeed!

Sir ANTHONY
Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of
diabolical knowledge! It blossoms through the year!--And depend on it,
Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will
long for the fruit at last.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Fy, fy, Sir Anthony! you surely speak laconically.

Sir ANTHONY
Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation now, what would you have a woman
know?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Observe me, Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to
be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much learning becomes a
young woman; for instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek, or
Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or paradoxes, or such
inflammatory branches of learning--neither would it be necessary for
her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical
instruments.--But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to
a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice.
Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts;--and
as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might
know something of the contagious countries;--but above all, Sir
Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not
mis-spell, and mis-pronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do;
and likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is
saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know;--and I
don't think there is a superstitious article in it.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with
you; though I must confess, that you are a truly moderate and polite
arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side of the
question. But, Mrs. Malaprop, to the more important point in
debate--you say you have no objection to my proposal?

Mrs. MALAPROP
None, I assure you. I am under no positive engagement with Mr. Acres,
and as Lydia is so obstinate against him, perhaps your son may have
better success.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, madam, I will write for the boy directly. He knows not a syllable
of this yet, though I have for some time had the proposal in my head.
He is at present with his regiment.

Mrs. MALAPROP
We have never seen your son, Sir Anthony; but I hope no objection on
his side.

Sir ANTHONY
Objection!--let him object if he dare!--No, no, Mrs. Malaprop, Jack
knows that the least demur puts me in a frenzy directly. My process was
always very simple--in their younger days, 'twas "Jack, do this";--if
he demurred, I knocked him down--and if he grumbled at that, I always
sent him out of the room.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Ay, and the properest way, o' my conscience!--nothing is so
conciliating to young people as severity.--Well, Sir Anthony, I shall
give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your son's
invocations;--and I hope you will represent her to the captain as an
object not altogether illegible.

Sir ANTHONY
Madam, I will handle the subject prudently.--Well, I must leave you;
and let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this matter roundly to
the girl.--Take my advice--keep a tight hand: if she rejects this
proposal, clap her under lock and key; and if you were just to let the
servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four days, you can't
conceive how she'd come about. [Exit.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Well, at any rate, I shall be glad to get her from under my intuition.
She has somehow discovered my partiality for Sir Lucius
O'Trigger--sure, Lucy can't have betrayed me!--No, the girl is such a
simpleton, I should have made her confess it.--Lucy!--Lucy!--[Calls.]
Had she been one of your artificial ones, I should never have trusted
her.

[Re-enter LUCY.]

LUCY
Did you call, ma'am?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Yes, girl.--Did you see Sir Lucius while you was out?

LUCY
No, indeed, ma'am, not a glimpse of him.

Mrs. MALAPROP
You are sure, Lucy, that you never mentioned----

LUCY
Oh gemini! I'd sooner cut my tongue out.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Well, don't let your simplicity be imposed on.

LUCY
No, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
So, come to me presently, and I'll give you another letter to Sir
Lucius; but mind, Lucy--if ever you betray what you are entrusted with
(unless it be other people's secrets to me), you forfeit my malevolence
for ever; and your being a simpleton shall be no excuse for your
locality. [Exit.]

LUCY
Ha! ha! ha!--So, my dear Simplicity, let me give you a little
respite.--[Altering her manner.] Let girls in my station be as fond as
they please of appearing expert, and knowing in their trusts; commend
me to a mask of silliness, and a pair of sharp eyes for my own interest
under it!--Let me see to what account have I turned my simplicity
lately.--[Looks at a paper.] For _abetting Miss Lydia Languish in a
design of running away with an ensign!--in money, sundry times, twelve
pound twelve; gowns, five; hats, ruffles, caps, &c., &c.,
numberless!--From the said ensign, within this last month, six guineas
and a half_.--About a quarter's pay!--Item, _from Mrs. Malaprop, for
betraying the young people to her_--when I found matters were likely to
be discovered--_two guineas, and a black paduasoy._--Item, _from Mr.
Acres, for carrying divers letters_--which I never delivered--_two
guineas, and a pair of buckles._--Item, _from Sir Lucius O'Trigger,
three crowns, two gold pocket-pieces, and a silver snuff-box!_--Well
done, Simplicity!--Yet I was forced to make my Hibernian believe, that
he was corresponding, not with the aunt, but with the niece; for though
not over rich, I found he had too much pride and delicacy to sacrifice
the feelings of a gentleman to the necessities of his fortune. [Exit.]


* * * * * * * * * * *


ACT II

* * * * * * *


Scene I.--CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE's Lodgings.
[CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE and FAG.]

FAG
Sir, while I was there Sir Anthony came in: I told him you had sent me
to inquire after his health, and to know if he was at leisure to see
you.

ABSOLUTE
And what did he say, on hearing I was at Bath?

FAG
Sir, in my life I never saw an elderly gentleman more astonished! He
started back two or three paces, rapped out a dozen interjectural
oaths, and asked, what the devil had brought you here.

ABSOLUTE
Well, sir, and what did you say?

FAG
Oh, I lied, sir--I forgot the precise lie; but you may depend on't, he
got no truth from me. Yet, with submission, for fear of blunders in
future, I should be glad to fix what has brought us to Bath; in order
that we may lie a little consistently. Sir Anthony's servants were
curious, sir, very curious indeed.

ABSOLUTE
You have said nothing to them?

FAG
Oh, not a word, sir,--not a word! Mr. Thomas, indeed, the coachman
(whom I take to be the discreetest of whips)----

ABSOLUTE
'Sdeath!--you rascal! you have not trusted him!

FAG
Oh, no, sir--no--no--not a syllable, upon my veracity!--He was, indeed,
a little inquisitive; but I was sly, sir--devilish sly! My master (said
I), honest Thomas (you know, sir, one says honest to one's inferiors,)
is come to Bath to recruit--Yes, sir, I said to recruit--and whether
for men, money, or constitution, you know, sir, is nothing to him, nor
any one else.

ABSOLUTE
Well, recruit will do--let it be so.

FAG
Oh, sir, recruit will do surprisingly--indeed, to give the thing an
air, I told Thomas, that your honour had already enlisted five
disbanded chairmen, seven minority waiters, and thirteen
billiard-markers.

ABSOLUTE
You blockhead, never say more than is necessary.

FAG
I beg pardon, sir--I beg pardon--but, with submission, a lie is nothing
unless one supports it. Sir, whenever I draw on my invention for a good
current lie, I always forge indorsements as well as the bill.

ABSOLUTE
Well, take care you don't hurt your credit, by offering too much
security.--Is Mr. Faulkland returned?

FAG
He is above, sir, changing his dress.

ABSOLUTE
Can you tell whether he has been informed of Sir Anthony and Miss
Melville's arrival?

FAG
I fancy not, sir; he has seen no one since he came in but his
gentleman, who was with him at Bristol.--I think, sir, I hear Mr.
Faulkland coming down----

ABSOLUTE
Go, tell him I am here.

FAG
Yes, sir.--[Going.] I beg pardon, sir, but should Sir Anthony call, you
will do me the favour to remember that we are recruiting, if you
please.

ABSOLUTE
Well, well.

FAG
And, in tenderness to my character, if your honour could bring in the
chairmen and waiters, I should esteem it as an obligation; for though I
never scruple a lie to serve my master, yet it hurts one's conscience
to be found out. [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE
Now for my whimsical friend--if he does not know that his mistress is
here, I'll tease him a little before I tell him----

[Enter FAULKLAND.]

Faulkland, you're welcome to Bath again; you are punctual in your
return.

FAULKLAND
Yes; I had nothing to detain me, when I had finished the business I
went on. Well, what news since I left you? how stand matters between
you and Lydia?

ABSOLUTE
Faith, much as they were; I have not seen her since our quarrel;
however, I expect to be recalled every hour.

FAULKLAND
Why don't you persuade her to go off with you at once?

ABSOLUTE
What, and lose two-thirds of her fortune? you forget that, my
friend.--No, no, I could have brought her to that long ago.

FAULKLAND
Nay then, you trifle too long--if you are sure of her, propose to the
aunt in your own character, and write to Sir Anthony for his consent.

ABSOLUTE
Softly, softly; for though I am convinced my little Lydia would elope
with me as Ensign Beverley, yet am I by no means certain that she would
take me with the impediment of our friends' consent, a regular humdrum
wedding, and the reversion of a good fortune on my side: no, no; I must
prepare her gradually for the discovery, and make myself necessary to
her, before I risk it.--Well, but Faulkland, you'll dine with us to-day
at the hotel?

FAULKLAND
Indeed I cannot; I am not in spirits to be of such a party.

ABSOLUTE
By heavens! I shall forswear your company. You are the most teasing,
captious, incorrigible lover!--Do love like a man.

FAULKLAND
I own I am unfit for company.

ABSOLUTE
Am I not a lover; ay, and a romantic one too? Yet do I carry every
where with me such a confounded farrago of doubts, fears, hopes,
wishes, and all the flimsy furniture of a country miss's brain!

FAULKLAND
Ah! Jack, your heart and soul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on
one only object. You throw for a large stake, but losing, you could
stake and throw again;--but I have set my sum of happiness on this
cast, and not to succeed, were to be stripped of all.

ABSOLUTE
But, for heaven's sake! what grounds for apprehension can your
whimsical brain conjure up at present?

FAULKLAND
What grounds for apprehension, did you say? Heavens! are there not a
thousand! I fear for her spirits--her health--her life!--My absence may
fret her; her anxiety for my return, her fears for me may oppress her
gentle temper: and for her health, does not every hour bring me cause
to be alarmed? If it rains, some shower may even then have chilled her
delicate frame! If the wind be keen, some rude blast may have affected
her! The heat of noon, the dews of the evening, may endanger the life
of her, for whom only I value mine. O Jack! when delicate and feeling
souls are separated, there is not a feature in the sky, not a movement
of the elements, not an aspiration of the breeze, but hints some cause
for a lover's apprehension!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, but we may choose whether we will take the hint or not.--So, then,
Faulkland, if you were convinced that Julia were well and in spirits,
you would be entirely content?

FAULKLAND
I should be happy beyond measure--I am anxious only for that.

ABSOLUTE
Then to cure your anxiety at once--Miss Melville is in perfect health,
and is at this moment in Bath.

FAULKLAND
Nay, Jack--don't trifle with me.

ABSOLUTE
She is arrived here with my father within this hour.

FAULKLAND
Can you be serious?

ABSOLUTE
I thought you knew Sir Anthony better than to be surprised at a sudden
whim of this kind.--Seriously, then, it is as I tell you--upon my
honour.

FAULKLAND
My dear friend!--Hollo, Du-Peigne! my hat.--My dear Jack--now nothing
on earth can give me a moment's uneasiness.

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG
Sir, Mr. Acres, just arrived, is below.

ABSOLUTE
Stay, Faulkland, this Acres lives within a mile of Sir Anthony, and he
shall tell you how your mistress has been ever since you left
her.--Fag, show this gentleman up.

[Exit FAG.]

FAULKLAND
What, is he much acquainted in the family?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, very intimate: I insist on your not going: besides, his character
will divert you.

FAULKLAND
Well, I should like to ask him a few questions.

ABSOLUTE
He is likewise a rival of mine--that is, of my other self's, for he
does not think his friend Captain Absolute ever saw the lady in
question; and it is ridiculous enough to hear him complain to me of one
Beverley, a concealed skulking rival, who----

FAULKLAND
Hush!--he's here.

[Enter ACRES.]

ACRES
Ha! my dear friend, noble captain, and honest Jack, how do'st thou?
just arrived, faith, as you see.--Sir, your humble servant.--Warm work
on the roads, Jack!--Odds whips and wheels! I've travelled like a
comet, with a tail of dust all the way as long as the Mall.

ABSOLUTE
Ah! Bob, you are indeed an eccentric planet, but we know your
attraction hither.--Give me leave to introduce Mr. Faulkland to you; Mr.
Faulkland, Mr. Acres.

ACRES
Sir, I am most heartily glad to see you: sir, I solicit your
connections.--Hey, Jack--what, this is Mr. Faulkland, who----

ABSOLUTE
Ay, Bob, Miss Melville's Mr. Faulkland.

ACRES
Odso! she and your father can be but just arrived before me:--I suppose
you have seen them. Ah! Mr. Faulkland, you are indeed a happy man.

FAULKLAND
I have not seen Miss Melville yet, sir;--I hope she enjoyed full health
and spirits in Devonshire?

ACRES
Never knew her better in my life, sir,--never better. Odds blushes and
blooms! she has been as healthy as the German Spa.

FAULKLAND
Indeed! I did hear that she had been a little indisposed.

ACRES
False, false, sir--only said to vex you: quite the reverse, I assure
you.

FAULKLAND
There, Jack, you see she has the advantage of me; I had almost fretted
myself ill.

ABSOLUTE
Now are you angry with your mistress for not having been sick?

FAULKLAND
No, no, you misunderstand me: yet surely a little trifling
indisposition is not an unnatural consequence of absence from those we
love.--Now confess--isn't there something unkind in this violent,
robust, unfeeling health?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, it was very unkind of her to be well in your absence, to be sure!

ACRES
Good apartments, Jack.

FAULKLAND
Well, sir, but you was saying that Miss Melville has been so
exceedingly well--what then she has been merry and gay, I
suppose?--Always in spirits--hey?

ACRES
Merry, odds crickets! she has been the belle and spirit of the company
wherever she has been--so lively and entertaining! so full of wit and
humour!

FAULKLAND
There, Jack, there.--Oh, by my soul! there is an innate levity in
woman, that nothing can overcome.--What! happy, and I away!

ABSOLUTE
Have done.--How foolish this is! just now you were only apprehensive
for your mistress' spirits.

FAULKLAND
Why, Jack, have I been the joy and spirit of the company?

ABSOLUTE
No, indeed, you have not.

FAULKLAND
Have I been lively and entertaining?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, upon my word, I acquit you.

FAULKLAND
Have I been full of wit and humour?

ABSOLUTE
No, faith, to do you justice, you have been confoundedly stupid indeed.

ACRES
What's the matter with the gentleman?

ABSOLUTE
He is only expressing his great satisfaction at hearing that Julia has
been so well and happy--that's all--hey, Faulkland?

FAULKLAND
Oh! I am rejoiced to hear it--yes, yes, she has a happy disposition!

ACRES
That she has indeed--then she is so accomplished--so sweet a voice--so
expert at her harpsichord--such a mistress of flat and sharp,
squallante, rumblante, and quiverante!--There was this time month--odds
minims and crotchets! how she did chirrup at Mrs. Piano's concert!

FAULKLAND
There again, what say you to this? you see she has been all mirth and
song--not a thought of me!

ABSOLUTE
Pho! man, is not music the food of love?

FAULKLAND
Well, well, it may be so.--Pray, Mr.--, what's his damned name?--Do you
remember what songs Miss Melville sung?

ACRES
Not I indeed.

ABSOLUTE
Stay, now, they were some pretty melancholy purling-stream airs, I
warrant; perhaps you may recollect;--did she sing, _When absent from my
soul's delight_?

ACRES
No, that wa'n't it.

ABSOLUTE
Or, _Go, gentle gales_! [Sings.]

ACRES
Oh, no! nothing like it. Odds! now I recollect one of them--_My heart's
my own, my will is free_. [Sings.]

FAULKLAND
Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on such a trifler!
'Sdeath! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to
soothe her light heart with catches and glees!--What can you say to
this, sir?

ABSOLUTE
Why, that I should be glad to hear my mistress had been so merry, sir.

FAULKLAND
Nay, nay, nay--I'm not sorry that she has been happy--no, no, I am glad
of that--I would not have had her sad or sick--yet surely a sympathetic
heart would have shown itself even in the choice of a song--she might
have been temperately healthy, and somehow, plaintively gay;--but she
has been dancing too, I doubt not!

ACRES
What does the gentleman say about dancing?

ABSOLUTE
He says the lady we speak of dances as well as she sings.

ACRES
Ay, truly, does she--there was at our last race ball----

FAULKLAND
Hell and the devil! There!--there--I told you so! I told you so! Oh!
she thrives in my absence!--Dancing! but her whole feelings have been
in opposition with mine;--I have been anxious, silent, pensive,
sedentary--my days have been hours of care, my nights of
watchfulness.--She has been all health! spirit! laugh! song!
dance!--Oh! damned, damned levity!

ABSOLUTE
For Heaven's sake, Faulkland, don't expose yourself so!--Suppose she
has danced, what then?--does not the ceremony of society often oblige
----

FAULKLAND
Well, well, I'll contain myself--perhaps as you say--for form
sake.--What, Mr. Acres, you were praising Miss Melville's manner of
dancing a minuet--hey?

ACRES
Oh, I dare insure her for that--but what I was going to speak of was
her country-dancing. Odds swimmings! she has such an air with her!

FAULKLAND
Now disappointment on her!--Defend this, Absolute; why don't you defend
this?--Country-dances! jigs and reels! am I to blame now? A minuet I
could have forgiven--I should not have minded that--I say I should not
have regarded a minuet--but country-dances!--Zounds! had she made one
in a cotillion--I believe I could have forgiven even that--but to be
monkey-led for a night!--to run the gauntlet through a string of
amorous palming puppies!--to show paces like a managed filly!--Oh,
Jack, there never can be but one man in the world whom a truly modest
and delicate woman ought to pair with in a country-dance; and, even
then, the rest of the couples should be her great-uncles and aunts!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, to be sure!--grandfathers and grandmothers!

FAULKLAND
If there be but one vicious mind in the set, 'twill spread like a
contagion--the action of their pulse beats to the lascivious movement
of the jig--their quivering, warm-breathed sighs impregnate the very
air--the atmosphere becomes electrical to love, and each amorous spark
darts through every link of the chain!--I must leave you--I own I am
somewhat flurried--and that confounded looby has perceived it. [Going.]

ABSOLUTE
Nay, but stay, Faulkland, and thank Mr. Acres for his good news.

FAULKLAND
Damn his news! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE
Ha! ha! ha! poor Faulkland five minutes since--"nothing on earth could
give him a moment's uneasiness!"

ACRES
The gentleman wa'n't angry at my praising his mistress, was he?

ABSOLUTE
A little jealous, I believe, Bob.

ACRES
You don't say so? Ha! ha! jealous of me--that's a good joke.

ABSOLUTE
There's nothing strange in that, Bob; let me tell you, that sprightly
grace and insinuating manner of yours will do some mischief among the
girls here.

ACRES
Ah! you joke--ha! ha! mischief--ha! ha! but you know I am not my own
property, my dear Lydia has forestalled me. She could never abide me in
the country, because I used to dress so badly--but odds frogs and
tambours! I shan't take matters so here, now ancient madam has no voice
in it: I'll make my old clothes know who's master. I shall straightway
cashier the hunting-frock, and render my leather breeches incapable. My
hair has been in training some time.

ABSOLUTE
Indeed!

ACRES
Ay--and tho'ff the side curls are a little restive, my hind-part takes
it very kindly.

ABSOLUTE
Ah, you'll polish, I doubt not.

ACRES
Absolutely I propose so--then if I can find out this Ensign Beverley,
odds triggers and flints! I'll make him know the difference o't.

ABSOLUTE
Spoke like a man! But pray, Bob, I observe you have got an odd kind of
a new method of swearing----

ACRES
Ha! ha! you've taken notice of it--'tis genteel, isn't it!--I didn't
invent it myself though; but a commander in our militia, a great
scholar, I assure you, says that there is no meaning in the common
oaths, and that nothing but their antiquity makes them
respectable;--because, he says, the ancients would never stick to an
oath or two, but would say, by Jove! or by Bacchus! or by Mars! or by
Venus! or by Pallas, according to the sentiment: so that to swear with
propriety, says my little major, the oath should be an echo to the
sense; and this we call the _oath referential_, or _sentimental
swearing_--ha! ha! 'tis genteel, isn't it?

ABSOLUTE
Very genteel, and very new, indeed!--and I dare say will supplant all
other figures of imprecation.

ACRES
Ay, ay, the best terms will grow obsolete.--Damns have had their day.

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG
Sir, there is a gentleman below desires to see you.--Shall I show him
into the parlour?

ABSOLUTE
Ay--you may.

ACRES
Well, I must be gone----

ABSOLUTE
Stay; who is it, Fag?

FAG
Your father, sir.

ABSOLUTE
You puppy, why didn't you show him up directly?

[Exit FAG.]

ACRES
You have business with Sir Anthony.--I expect a message from Mrs.
Malaprop at my lodgings. I have sent also to my dear friend Sir Lucius
O'Trigger. Adieu, Jack! we must meet at night, when you shall give me a
dozen bumpers to little Lydia.

ABSOLUTE
That I will with all my heart.----

[Exit ACRES.]

Now for a parental lecture--I hope he has heard nothing of the business
that brought me here--I wish the gout had held him fast in Devonshire,
with all my soul!

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Sir I am delighted to see you here; looking so well! your sudden
arrival at Bath made me apprehensive for your health.

Sir ANTHONY
Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack.--What, you are recruiting here,
hey?

ABSOLUTE
Yes, sir, I am on duty.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, Jack, I am glad to see you, though I did not expect it, for I
was going to write to you on a little matter of business.--Jack, I have
been considering that I grow old and infirm, and shall probably not
trouble you long.

ABSOLUTE
Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong and hearty; and I pray
frequently that you may continue so.

Sir ANTHONY
I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my heart. Well, then, Jack,
I have been considering that I am so strong and hearty I may continue
to plague you a long time. Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of
your commission, and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small
pittance for a lad of your spirit.

ABSOLUTE
Sir, you are very good.

Sir ANTHONY
And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy make some figure in
the world. I have resolved, therefore, to fix you at once in a noble
independence.

ABSOLUTE
Sir, your kindness overpowers me--such generosity makes the gratitude
of reason more lively than the sensations even of filial affection.

Sir ANTHONY
I am glad you are so sensible of my attention--and you shall be master
of a large estate in a few weeks.

ABSOLUTE
Let my future life, sir, speak my gratitude; I cannot express the sense
I have of your munificence.--Yet, sir, I presume you would not wish me
to quit the army?

Sir ANTHONY
Oh, that shall be as your wife chooses.

ABSOLUTE
My wife, sir!

Sir ANTHONY
Ay, ay, settle that between you--settle that between you.

ABSOLUTE
A wife, sir, did you say?

Sir ANTHONY
Ay, a wife--why, did not I mention her before?

ABSOLUTE
Not a word of her, sir.

Sir ANTHONY
Odd so!--I mustn't forget her though.--Yes, Jack, the independence I
was talking of is by marriage--the fortune is saddled with a wife--but
I suppose that makes no difference.

ABSOLUTE
Sir! sir!--you amaze me!

Sir ANTHONY
Why, what the devil's the matter with the fool? Just now you were all
gratitude and duty.

ABSOLUTE
I was, sir,--you talked to me of independence and a fortune, but not a
word of a wife.

Sir ANTHONY
Why--what difference does that make? Odds life, sir! if you have the
estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it stands.

ABSOLUTE
If my happiness is to be the price, I must beg leave to decline the
purchase.--Pray, sir, who is the lady?

Sir ANTHONY
What's that to you, sir?--Come, give me your promise to love, and to
marry her directly.

ABSOLUTE
Sure, sir, this is not very reasonable, to summon my affections for a
lady I know nothing of!

Sir ANTHONY
I am sure, sir, 'tis more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you
know nothing of.

ABSOLUTE
Then, sir, I must tell you plainly that my inclinations are fixed on
another--my heart is engaged to an angel.

Sir ANTHONY
Then pray let it send an excuse. It is very sorry--but business
prevents its waiting on her.

ABSOLUTE
But my vows are pledged to her.

Sir ANTHONY
Let her foreclose, Jack; let her foreclose; they are not worth
redeeming; besides, you have the angel's vows in exchange, I suppose;
so there can be no loss there.

ABSOLUTE
You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that in this
point I cannot obey you.

Sir ANTHONY
Hark'ee, Jack;--I have heard you for some time with patience--I have
been cool--quite cool; but take care--you know I am compliance
itself--when I am not thwarted;--no one more easily led--when I have my
own way;--but don't put me in a frenzy.

ABSOLUTE
Sir, I must repeat it--in this I cannot obey you.

Sir ANTHONY
Now damn me! if ever I call you Jack again while I live!

ABSOLUTE
Nay, sir, but hear me.

Sir ANTHONY
Sir, I won't hear a word--not a word! not one word! so give me your
promise by a nod--and I'll tell you what, Jack--I mean, you dog--if you
don't, by----

ABSOLUTE
What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness! to----

Sir ANTHONY
Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a
hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one
eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum; she shall have a skin
like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew--she shall be all this,
sirrah!--yet I will make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to
write sonnets on her beauty.

ABSOLUTE
This is reason and moderation indeed!

Sir ANTHONY
None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes!

ABSOLUTE
Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humour for mirth in my life.

Sir ANTHONY
'Tis false, sir, I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you'll
grin when I am gone, sirrah!

ABSOLUTE
Sir, I hope I know my duty better.

Sir ANTHONY
None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please!--It
won't do with me, I promise you.

ABSOLUTE
Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.

Sir ANTHONY
'Tis a confounded lie!--I know you are in a passion in your heart; I
know you are, you hypocritical young dog! but it won't do.

ABSOLUTE
Nay, sir, upon my word----

Sir ANTHONY
So you will fly out! can't you be cool like me? What the devil good can
passion do?--Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent,
overbearing reprobate!--There, you sneer again! don't provoke me!--but
you rely upon the mildness of my temper--you do, you dog! you play upon
the meekness of my disposition!--Yet take care--the patience of a saint
may be overcome at last!--but mark! I give you six hours and a half to
consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do every
thing on earth that I choose, why--confound you! I may in time forgive
you.--If not, zounds! don't enter the same hemisphere with me! don't
dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an
atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission;
I'll lodge a five-and-threepence in the hands of trustees, and you
shall live on the interest.--I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you, I'll
unget you! and damn me! if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE
Mild, gentle, considerate father--I kiss your hands!--What a tender
method of giving his opinion in these matters Sir Anthony has! I dare
not trust him with the truth.--I wonder what old wealthy hag it is that
he wants to bestow on me!--Yet he married himself for love! and was in
his youth a bold intriguer, and a gay companion!

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG
Assuredly, sir, your father is wrath to a degree; he comes down stairs
eight or ten steps at a time--muttering, growling, and thumping the
banisters all the way: I and the cook's dog stand bowing at the
door--rap! he gives me a stroke on the head with his cane; bids me
carry that to my master; then kicking the poor turnspit into the area,
damns us all, for a puppy triumvirate!--Upon my credit, sir, were I in
your place, and found my father such very bad company, I should
certainly drop his acquaintance.

ABSOLUTE
Cease your impertinence, sir, at present.--Did you come in for nothing
more?--Stand out of the way! [Pushes him aside, and exit.]

FAG
So! Sir Anthony trims my master; he is afraid to reply to his
father--then vents his spleen on poor Fag!--When one is vexed by one
person, to revenge one's self on another, who happens to come in the
way, is the vilest injustice! Ah! it shows the worst temper--the
basest----

[Enter BOY.]

BOY
Mr. Fag! Mr. Fag! your master calls you.

FAG
Well, you little dirty puppy, you need not bawl so!--The meanest
disposition! the----

BOY
Quick, quick, Mr. Fag!

FAG
Quick! quick! you impudent jackanapes! am I to be commanded by you too?
you little impertinent, insolent, kitchen-bred---- [Exit kicking and
beating him.]

* * * * * * *


Scene II.--The North Parade.
[Enter LUCY.]

LUCY
So--I shall have another rival to add to my mistress's list--Captain
Absolute. However, I shall not enter his name till my purse has
received notice in form. Poor Acres is dismissed!--Well, I have done
him a last friendly office, in letting him know that Beverley was here
before him.--Sir Lucius is generally more punctual, when he expects to
hear from his _dear Delia_, as he calls her: I wonder he's not
here!--I have a little scruple of conscience from this deceit; though I
should not be paid so well, if my hero knew that Delia was near fifty,
and her own mistress.

[Enter Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER.]

Sir LUCIUS
Ha! my little ambassadress--upon my conscience, I have been looking for
you; I have been on the South Parade this half hour.

LUCY
[Speaking simply.] O gemini! and I have been waiting for your worship
here on the North.

Sir LUCIUS
Faith!--may be that was the reason we did not meet; and it is very
comical too, how you could go out and I not see you--for I was only
taking a nap at the Parade Coffee-house, and I chose the window on
purpose that I might not miss you.

LUCY
My stars! Now I'd wager a sixpence I went by while you were asleep.

Sir LUCIUS
Sure enough it must have been so--and I never dreamt it was so late,
till I waked. Well, but my little girl, have you got nothing for me?

LUCY
Yes, but I have--I've got a letter for you in my pocket.

Sir LUCIUS
O faith! I guessed you weren't come empty-handed--Well--let me see what
the dear creature says.

LUCY
There, Sir Lucius. [Gives him a letter.]

Sir LUCIUS
[Reads.] _Sir--there is often a sudden incentive impulse in love, that
has a greater induction than years of domestic combination: such was
the commotion I felt at the first superfluous view of Sir Lucius
O'Trigger._--Very pretty, upon my word.--_Female punctuation forbids me
to say more, yet let me add, that it will give me joy infallible to
find Sir Lucius worthy the last criterion of my affections. Delia._
Upon my conscience! Lucy, your lady is a great mistress of language.
Faith, she's quite the queen of the dictionary!--for the devil a word
dare refuse coming at her call--though one would think it was quite out
of hearing.

LUCY
Ay, sir, a lady of her experience----

Sir LUCIUS
Experience! what, at seventeen?

LUCY
O true, sir--but then she reads so--my stars! how she will read off
hand!

Sir LUCIUS
Faith, she must be very deep read to write this way--though she is
rather an arbitrary writer too--for here are a great many poor words
pressed into the service of this note, that would get their _habeas
corpus_ from any court in Christendom.

LUCY
Ah! Sir Lucius, if you were to hear how she talks of you!

Sir LUCIUS
Oh, tell her I'll make her the best husband in the world, and Lady
O'Trigger into the bargain!--But we must get the old gentlewoman's
consent--and do every thing fairly.

LUCY
Nay, Sir Lucius, I thought you wa'n't rich enough to be so nice!

Sir LUCIUS
Upon my word, young woman, you have hit it:--I am so poor, that I can't
afford to do a dirty action.--If I did not want money, I'd steal your
mistress and her fortune with a great deal of pleasure.--However, my
pretty girl, [Gives her money] here's a little something to buy you a
ribbon; and meet me in the evening, and I'll give you an answer to
this. So, hussy, take a kiss beforehand to put you in mind. [Kisses
her.]

LUCY
O Lud! Sir Lucius--I never seed such a gemman! My lady won't like you
if you're so impudent.

Sir LUCIUS
Faith she will, Lucy!--That same--pho! what's the name of
it?--modesty--is a quality in a lover more praised by the women than
liked; so, if your mistress asks you whether Sir Lucius ever gave you a
kiss, tell her fifty--my dear.

LUCY
What, would you have me tell her a lie?

Sir LUCIUS
Ah, then, you baggage! I'll make it a truth presently.

LUCY
For shame now! here is some one coming.

Sir LUCIUS
Oh, faith, I'll quiet your conscience! [Exit, humming a tune.]

[Enter FAG.]

FAG
So, so, ma'am! I humbly beg pardon.

LUCY
O Lud! now, Mr. Fag--you flurry one so.

FAG
Come, come, Lucy, here's no one by--so a little less simplicity, with a
grain or two more sincerity, if you please.--You play false with us,
madam.--I saw you give the baronet a letter.--My master shall know
this--and if he don't call him out, I will.

LUCY
Ha! ha! ha! you gentlemen's gentlemen are so hasty.--That letter was
from Mrs. Malaprop, simpleton.--She is taken with Sir Lucius's address.

FAG
How! what tastes some people have!--Why, I suppose I have walked by her
window a hundred times.--But what says our young lady? any message to
my master?

LUCY
Sad news. Mr. Fag.--A worse rival than Acres! Sir Anthony Absolute has
proposed his son.

FAG
What, Captain Absolute?

LUCY
Even so--I overheard it all.

FAG
Ha! ha! ha! very good, faith. Good-bye, Lucy, I must away with this
news.

LUCY
Well, you may laugh--but it is true, I assure you.--[Going.] But, Mr.
Fag, tell your master not to be cast down by this.

FAG
Oh, he'll be so disconsolate!

LUCY
And charge him not to think of quarrelling with young Absolute.

FAG
Never fear! never fear!

LUCY
Be sure--bid him keep up his spirits.

FAG
We will--we will.

[Exeunt severally.]


* * * * * * * * * * *


ACT III

* * * * * * *


Scene I--The North Parade.
[Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

ABSOLUTE
'Tis just as Fag told me, indeed. Whimsical enough, faith! My father
wants to force me to marry the very girl I am plotting to run away
with! He must not know of my connection with her yet awhile. He has too
summary a method of proceeding in these matters. However, I'll read my
recantation instantly. My conversion is something sudden, indeed--but I
can assure him it is very sincere. So, so--here he comes. He looks
plaguy gruff. [Steps aside.]

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Sir ANTHONY
No--I'll die sooner than forgive him. Die, did I say? I'll live these
fifty years to plague him. At our last meeting, his impudence had
almost put me out of temper. An obstinate, passionate, self-willed boy!
Who can he take after? This is my return for getting him before all his
brothers and sisters!--for putting him, at twelve years old, into a
marching regiment, and allowing him fifty pounds a year, besides his
pay, ever since! But I have done with him; he's anybody's son for me. I
never will see him more, never--never--never.

ABSOLUTE
[Aside, coming forward.] Now for a penitential face.

Sir ANTHONY
Fellow, get out of my way!

ABSOLUTE
Sir, you see a penitent before you.

Sir ANTHONY
I see an impudent scoundrel before me.

ABSOLUTE
A sincere penitent. I am come, sir, to acknowledge my error, and to
submit entirely to your will.

Sir ANTHONY
What's that?

ABSOLUTE
I have been revolving, and reflecting, and considering on your past
goodness, and kindness, and condescension to me.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, sir?

ABSOLUTE
I have been likewise weighing and balancing what you were pleased to
mention concerning duty, and obedience, and authority.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, puppy?

ABSOLUTE
Why then, sir, the result of my reflections is--a resolution to
sacrifice every inclination of my own to your satisfaction.

Sir ANTHONY
Why now you talk sense--absolute sense--I never heard anything more
sensible in my life. Confound you! you shall be Jack again.

ABSOLUTE
I am happy in the appellation.

Sir ANTHONY
Why then, Jack, my dear Jack, I will now inform you who the lady really
is. Nothing but your passion and violence, you silly fellow, prevented
my telling you at first. Prepare, Jack, for wonder and rapture--prepare.
What think you of Miss Lydia Languish?

ABSOLUTE
Languish! What, the Languishes of Worcestershire?

Sir ANTHONY
Worcestershire! no. Did you never meet Mrs. Malaprop and her niece,
Miss Languish, who came into our country just before you were last
ordered to your regiment?

ABSOLUTE
Malaprop! Languish! I don't remember ever to have heard the names
before. Yet, stay--I think I do recollect something. Languish!
Languish! She squints, don't she? A little red-haired girl?

Sir ANTHONY
Squints! A red-haired girl! Zounds! no.

ABSOLUTE
Then I must have forgot; it can't be the same person.

Sir ANTHONY
Jack! Jack! what think you of blooming, love-breathing seventeen?

ABSOLUTE
As to that, sir, I am quite indifferent. If I can please you in the
matter, 'tis all I desire.

Sir ANTHONY
Nay, but Jack, such eyes! such eyes! so innocently wild! so bashfully
irresolute! not a glance but speaks and kindles some thought of love!
Then, Jack, her cheeks! her cheeks, Jack! so deeply blushing at the
insinuations of her tell-tale eyes! Then, Jack, her lips! O, Jack, lips
smiling at their own discretion; and if not smiling, more sweetly
pouting; more lovely in sullenness!

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] That's she, indeed. Well done, old gentleman.

Sir ANTHONY
Then, Jack, her neck! O Jack! Jack!

ABSOLUTE
And which is to be mine, sir, the niece, or the aunt?

Sir ANTHONY
Why, you unfeeling, insensible puppy, I despise you! When I was of your
age, such a description would have made me fly like a rocket! The aunt
indeed! Odds life! when I ran away with your mother, I would not have
touched anything old or ugly to gain an empire.

ABSOLUTE
Not to please your father, sir?

Sir ANTHONY
To please my father! zounds! not to please--Oh, my father--odd
so!--yes--yes; if my father indeed had desired--that's quite another
matter. Though he wa'n't the indulgent father that I am, Jack.

ABSOLUTE
I dare say not, sir.

Sir ANTHONY
But, Jack, you are not sorry to find your mistress is so beautiful?

ABSOLUTE
Sir, I repeat it--if I please you in this affair, 'tis all I desire.
Not that I think a woman the worse for being handsome; but, sir, if you
please to recollect, you before hinted something about a hump or two,
one eye, and a few more graces of that kind--now, without being very
nice, I own I should rather choose a wife of mine to have the usual
number of limbs, and a limited quantity of back: and though one eye may
be very agreeable, yet as the prejudice has always run in favour of
two, I would not wish to affect a singularity in that article.

Sir ANTHONY
What a phlegmatic sot it is! Why, sirrah, you're an anchorite!--a vile,
insensible stock. You a soldier!--you're a walking block, fit only to
dust the company's regimentals on! Odds life! I have a great mind to
marry the girl myself!

ABSOLUTE
I am entirely at your disposal, sir: if you should think of addressing
Miss Languish yourself, I suppose you would have me marry the aunt; or
if you should change your mind, and take the old lady--'tis the same to
me--I'll marry the niece.

Sir ANTHONY
Upon my word, Jack, thou'rt either a very great hypocrite, or--but,
come, I know your indifference on such a subject must be all a lie--I'm
sure it must--come, now--damn your demure face!--come, confess
Jack--you have been lying, ha'n't you? You have been playing the
hypocrite, hey!--I'll never forgive you, if you ha'n't been lying and
playing the hypocrite.

ABSOLUTE
I'm sorry, sir, that the respect and duty which I bear to you should be
so mistaken.

Sir ANTHONY
Hang your respect and duty! But come along with me, I'll write a note
to Mrs. Malaprop, and you shall visit the lady directly. Her eyes shall
be the Promethean torch to you--come along, I'll never forgive you, if
you don't come back stark mad with rapture and impatience--if you
don't, egad, I will marry the girl myself!

[Exeunt.]

* * * * * * *


Scene II--JULIA's Dressing-room.
[FAULKLAND discovered alone.]

FAULKLAND
They told me Julia would return directly; I wonder she is not yet come!
How mean does this captious, unsatisfied temper of mine appear to my
cooler judgment! Yet I know not that I indulge it in any other point:
but on this one subject, and to this one subject, whom I think I love
beyond my life, I am ever ungenerously fretful and madly capricious! I
am conscious of it--yet I cannot correct myself! What tender honest joy
sparkled in her eyes when we met! how delicate was the warmth of her
expression! I was ashamed to appear less happy--though I had come
resolved to wear a face of coolness and upbraiding. Sir Anthony's
presence prevented my proposed expostulations: yet I must be satisfied
that she has not been so very happy in my absence. She is coming!
Yes!--I know the nimbleness of her tread, when she thinks her impatient
Faulkland counts the moments of her stay.

[Enter JULIA.]

JULIA
I had not hoped to see you again so soon.

FAULKLAND
Could I, Julia, be contented with my first welcome--restrained as we
were by the presence of a third person?

JULIA
O Faulkland, when your kindness can make me thus happy, let me not
think that I discovered something of coldness in your first salutation.

FAULKLAND
'Twas but your fancy, Julia. I was rejoiced to see you--to see you in
such health. Sure I had no cause for coldness?

JULIA
Nay, then, I see you have taken something ill. You must not conceal
from me what it is.

FAULKLAND
Well, then--shall I own to you that my joy at hearing of your health
and arrival here, by your neighbour Acres, was somewhat damped by his
dwelling much on the high spirits you had enjoyed in Devonshire--on
your mirth--your singing--dancing, and I know not what! For such is my
temper, Julia, that I should regard every mirthful moment in your
absence as a treason to constancy. The mutual tear that steals down the
cheek of parting lovers is a compact, that no smile shall live there
till they meet again.

JULIA
Must I never cease to tax my Faulkland with this teasing minute
caprice? Can the idle reports of a silly boor weigh in your breast
against my tried affections?

FAULKLAND
They have no weight with me, Julia: No, no--I am happy if you have been
so--yet only say, that you did not sing with mirth--say that you
thought of Faulkland in the dance.

JULIA
I never can be happy in your absence. If I wear a countenance of
content, it is to show that my mind holds no doubt of my Faulkland's
truth. If I seemed sad, it were to make malice triumph; and say, that I
had fixed my heart on one, who left me to lament his roving, and my own
credulity. Believe me, Faulkland, I mean not to upbraid you, when I
say, that I have often dressed sorrow in smiles, lest my friends should
guess whose unkindness had caused my tears.

FAULKLAND
You were ever all goodness to me. Oh, I am a brute, when I but admit a
doubt of your true constancy!

JULIA
If ever without such cause from you, as I will not suppose possible,
you find my affections veering but a point, may I become a proverbial
scoff for levity and base ingratitude.

FAULKLAND
Ah! Julia, that last word is grating to me. I would I had no title to
your gratitude! Search your heart, Julia; perhaps what you have
mistaken for love, is but the warm effusion of a too thankful heart.

JULIA
For what quality must I love you?

FAULKLAND
For no quality! To regard me for any quality of mind or understanding,
were only to esteem me. And for person--I have often wished myself
deformed, to be convinced that I owed no obligation there for any part
of your affection.

JULIA
Where nature has bestowed a show of nice attention in the features of a
man, he should laugh at it as misplaced. I have seen men, who in this
vain article, perhaps, might rank above you; but my heart has never
asked my eyes if it were so or not.

FAULKLAND
Now this is not well from you, Julia--I despise person in a man--yet if
you loved me as I wish, though I were an AEthiop, you'd think none so
fair.

JULIA
I see you are determined to be unkind! The contract which my poor
father bound us in gives you more than a lover's privilege.

FAULKLAND
Again, Julia, you raise ideas that feed and justify my doubts. I would
not have been more free--no--I am proud of my restraint.
Yet--yet--perhaps your high respect alone for this solemn compact has
fettered your inclinations, which else had made a worthier choice. How
shall I be sure, had you remained unbound in thought and promise, that
I should still have been the object of your persevering love?

JULIA
Then try me now. Let us be free as strangers as to what is past: my
heart will not feel more liberty!

FAULKLAND
There now! so hasty, Julia! so anxious to be free! If your love for me
were fixed and ardent, you would not lose your hold, even though I
wished it!

JULIA
Oh! you torture me to the heart! I cannot bear it.

FAULKLAND
I do not mean to distress you. If I loved you less I should never give
you an uneasy moment. But hear me. All my fretful doubts arise from
this. Women are not used to weigh and separate the motives of their
affections: the cold dictates of prudence, gratitude, or filial duty,
may sometimes be mistaken for the pleadings of the heart. I would not
boast--yet let me say, that I have neither age, person, nor character,
to found dislike on; my fortune such as few ladies could be charged
with indiscretion in the match. O Julia! when love receives such
countenance from prudence, nice minds will be suspicious of its birth.

JULIA
I know not whither your insinuations would tend:--but as they seem
pressing to insult me, I will spare you the regret of having done
so.--I have given you no cause for this! [Exit in tears.]

FAULKLAND
In tears! Stay, Julia: stay but for a moment.--The door is
fastened!--Julia!--my soul--but for one moment!--I hear her
sobbing!--'Sdeath! what a brute am I to use her thus! Yet
stay!--Ay--she is coming now:--how little resolution there is in a
woman!--how a few soft words can turn them!--No, faith!--she is not
coming either.--Why, Julia--my love--say but that you forgive me--come
but to tell me that--now this is being too resentful. Stay! she is
coming too--I thought she would--no steadiness in anything: her going
away must have been a mere trick then--she shan't see that I was hurt
by it.--I'll affect indifference--[Hums a tune; then listens.]
No--zounds! she's not coming!--nor don't intend it, I suppose.--This is
not steadiness, but obstinacy! Yet I deserve it.--What, after so long
an absence to quarrel with her tenderness!--'twas barbarous and
unmanly!--I should be ashamed to see her now.--I'll wait till her just
resentment is abated--and when I distress her so again, may I lose her
for ever! and be linked instead to some antique virago, whose gnawing
passions, and long hoarded spleen, shall make me curse my folly half
the day and all the night. [Exit.]

* * * * * * *


Scene III--Mrs. MALAPROP's Lodgings.
[Mrs. MALAPROP, with a letter in her hand, and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Your being Sir Anthony's son, captain, would itself be a sufficient
accommodation; but from the ingenuity of your appearance, I am
convinced you deserve the character here given of you.

ABSOLUTE
Permit me to say, madam, that as I never yet have had the pleasure of
seeing Miss Languish, my principal inducement in this affair at present
is the honour of being allied to Mrs. Malaprop; of whose intellectual
accomplishments, elegant manners, and unaffected learning, no tongue is
silent.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Sir, you do me infinite honour! I beg, captain, you'll be
seated.--[They sit.] Ah! few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value
the ineffectual qualities in a woman! few think how a little knowledge
becomes a gentlewoman!--Men have no sense now but for the worthless
flower of beauty!

ABSOLUTE
It is but too true, indeed, ma'am;--yet I fear our ladies should share
the blame--they think our admiration of beauty so great, that knowledge
in them would be superfluous. Thus, like garden-trees, they seldom show
fruit, till time has robbed them of the more specious blossom.--Few,
like Mrs. Malaprop and the orange-tree, are rich in both at once!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Sir, you overpower me with good-breeding.--He is the very pine-apple of
politeness!--You are not ignorant, captain, that this giddy girl has
somehow contrived to fix her affections on a beggarly, strolling,
eaves-dropping ensign, whom none of us have seen, and nobody knows
anything of.

ABSOLUTE
Oh, I have heard the silly affair before.--I'm not at all prejudiced
against her on that account.

Mrs. MALAPROP
You are very good and very considerate, captain. I am sure I have done
everything in my power since I exploded the affair; long ago I laid my
positive conjunctions on her, never to think on the fellow again;--I
have since laid Sir Anthony's preposition before her; but, I am sorry
to say, she seems resolved to decline every particle that I enjoin her.

ABSOLUTE
It must be very distressing, indeed, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Oh! it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree.--I thought she had
persisted from corresponding with him; but, behold, this very day, I
have interceded another letter from the fellow; I believe I have it in
my pocket.

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Oh, the devil! my last note.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Ay, here it is.

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Ay, my note indeed! O the little traitress Lucy.

Mrs. MALAPROP
There, perhaps you may know the writing. [Gives him the letter.]

ABSOLUTE
I think I have seen the hand before--yes, I certainly must have seen
this hand before----

Mrs. MALAPROP
Nay, but read it, captain.

ABSOLUTE
[Reads.] _My soul's idol, my adored Lydia!_--Very tender, indeed!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Tender! ay, and profane too, o' my conscience.

ABSOLUTE
[Reads.] _I am excessively alarmed at the intelligence you send me, the
more so as my new rival_----

Mrs. MALAPROP
That's you, sir.

ABSOLUTE
[Reads.] _Has universally the character of being an accomplished
gentleman and a man of honour._--Well, that's handsome enough.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Oh, the fellow has some design in writing so.

ABSOLUTE
That he had, I'll answer for him, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
But go on, sir--you'll see presently.

ABSOLUTE
[Reads.] _As for the old weather-beaten she-dragon who guards you_--Who
can he mean by that?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Me, sir!--me!--he means me!--There--what do you think now?--but go on a
little further.

ABSOLUTE
Impudent scoundrel!--[Reads.] _it shall go hard but I will elude her
vigilance, as I am told that the same ridiculous vanity, which makes
her dress up her coarse features, and deck her dull chat with hard
words which she don't understand_----

Mrs. MALAPROP
There, sir, an attack upon my language! what do you think of that?--an
aspersion upon my parts of speech! was ever such a brute! Sure, if I
reprehend any thing in this world, it is the use of my oracular tongue,
and a nice derangement of epitaphs!

ABSOLUTE
He deserves to be hanged and quartered! let me see--[Reads.] _same
ridiculous vanity_----

Mrs. MALAPROP
You need not read it again, sir.

ABSOLUTE
I beg pardon, ma'am.--[Reads.] _does also lay her open to the grossest
deceptions from flattery and pretended admiration_--an impudent
coxcomb!--_so that I have a scheme to see you shortly with the old
harridan's consent, and even to make her a go-between in our
interview._--Was ever such assurance!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Did you ever hear anything like it?--he'll elude my vigilance, will
he--yes, yes! ha! ha! he's very likely to enter these doors;--we'll try
who can plot best!

ABSOLUTE
So we will, ma'am--so we will! Ha! ha! ha! a conceited puppy, ha! ha!
ha!--Well, but Mrs. Malaprop, as the girl seems so infatuated by this
fellow, suppose you were to wink at her corresponding with him for a
little time--let her even plot an elopement with him--then do you
connive at her escape--while I, just in the nick, will have the fellow
laid by the heels, and fairly contrive to carry her off in his stead.

Mrs. MALAPROP
I am delighted with the scheme; never was anything better perpetrated!

ABSOLUTE
But, pray, could not I see the lady for a few minutes now?--I should
like to try her temper a little.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Why, I don't know--I doubt she is not prepared for a visit of this
kind. There is a decorum in these matters.

ABSOLUTE
O Lord! she won't mind me--only tell her Beverley----

Mrs. MALAPROP
Sir!

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Gently, good tongue.

Mrs. MALAPROP
What did you say of Beverley?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, I was going to propose that you should tell her, by way of jest,
that it was Beverley who was below; she'd come down fast enough
then--ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. MALAPROP
'Twould be a trick she well deserves; besides, you know the fellow
tells her he'll get my consent to see her--ha! ha! Let him if he can, I
say again. Lydia, come down here!--[Calling.] He'll make me a
go-between in their interviews!--ha! ha! ha! Come down, I say, Lydia! I
don't wonder at your laughing, ha! ha! ha! his impudence is truly
ridiculous.

ABSOLUTE
'Tis very ridiculous, upon my soul, ma'am, ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. MALAPROP
The little hussy won't hear. Well, I'll go and tell her at once who it
is--she shall know that Captain Absolute is come to wait on her. And
I'll make her behave as becomes a young woman.

ABSOLUTE
As you please, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
For the present, captain, your servant. Ah! you've not done laughing
yet, I see--elude my vigilance; yes, yes; ha! ha! ha! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE
Ha! ha! ha! one would think now that I might throw off all disguise at
once, and seize my prize with security; but such is Lydia's caprice,
that to undeceive were probably to lose her. I'll see whether she knows
me. [Walks aside, and seems engaged in looking at the pictures.]

[Enter LYDIA.]

LYDIA
What a scene am I now to go through! surely nothing can be more
dreadful than to be obliged to listen to the loathsome addresses of a
stranger to one's heart. I have heard of girls persecuted as I am, who
have appealed in behalf of their favoured lover to the generosity of
his rival--suppose I were to try it--there stands the hated rival--an
officer too!--but oh, how unlike my Beverley! I wonder he don't
begin--truly he seems a very negligent wooer!--quite at his ease, upon
my word!--I'll speak first--Mr. Absolute.

ABSOLUTE
Ma'am. [Turns round.]

LYDIA
O heavens! Beverley!

ABSOLUTE
Hush;--hush, my life! softly! be not surprised!

LYDIA
I am so astonished! and so terrified! and so overjoyed!--for Heaven's
sake! how came you here?

ABSOLUTE
Briefly, I have deceived your aunt--I was informed that my new rival
was to visit here this evening, and contriving to have him kept away,
have passed myself on her for Captain Absolute.

LYDIA
O charming! And she really takes you for young Absolute?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, she's convinced of it.

LYDIA
Ha! ha! ha! I can't forbear laughing to think how her sagacity is
overreached!

ABSOLUTE
But we trifle with our precious moments--such another opportunity may
not occur; then let me now conjure my kind, my condescending angel, to
fix the time when I may rescue her from undeserving persecution, and
with a licensed warmth plead for my reward.

LYDIA
Will you then, Beverley, consent to forfeit that portion of my paltry
wealth?--that burden on the wings of love?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, come to me--rich only thus--in loveliness! Bring no portion to me
but thy love--'twill be generous in you, Lydia--for well you know, it
is the only dower your poor Beverley can repay.

LYDIA
[Aside.] How persuasive are his words!--how charming will poverty be
with him!

ABSOLUTE
Ah! my soul, what a life will we then live! Love shall be our idol and
support! we will worship him with a monastic strictness; abjuring all
worldly toys, to centre every thought and action there. Proud of
calamity, we will enjoy the wreck of wealth; while the surrounding
gloom of adversity shall make the flame of our pure love show doubly
bright. By Heavens! I would fling all goods of fortune from me with a
prodigal hand, to enjoy the scene where I might clasp my Lydia to my
bosom, and say, the world affords no smile to me but here--[Embracing
her.] [Aside.] If she holds out now, the devil is in it!

LYDIA
[Aside.] Now could I fly with him to the antipodes! but my persecution
is not yet come to a crisis.

[Re-enter Mrs. MALAPROP, listening.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
[Aside.] I am impatient to know how the little hussy deports herself.

ABSOLUTE
So pensive, Lydia!--is then your warmth abated?

Mrs. MALAPROP
[Aside.] Warmth abated!--so!--she has been in a passion, I suppose.

LYDIA
No--nor ever can while I have life.

Mrs. MALAPROP
[Aside.] An ill tempered little devil! She'll be in a passion all her
life--will she?

LYDIA
Think not the idle threats of my ridiculous aunt can ever have any
weight with me.

Mrs. MALAPROP
[Aside.] Very dutiful, upon my word!

LYDIA
Let her choice be Captain Absolute, but Beverley is mine.

Mrs. MALAPROP
[Aside.] I am astonished at her assurance!--to his face--this is to
his face!

ABSOLUTE
Thus then let me enforce my suit. [Kneeling.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
[Aside.] Ay, poor young man!--down on his knees entreating for
pity!--I can contain no longer.--[Coming forward.] Why, thou vixen!--I
have overheard you.

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Oh, confound her vigilance!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Captain Absolute, I know not how to apologize for her shocking
rudeness.

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] So all's safe, I find.--[Aloud.] I have hopes, madam, that
time will bring the young lady----

Mrs. MALAPROP
Oh, there's nothing to be hoped for from her! she's as headstrong as an
allegory on the banks of Nile.

LYDIA
Nay, madam, what do you charge me with now?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Why, thou unblushing rebel--didn't you tell this gentleman to his face
that you loved another better?--didn't you say you never would be his?

LYDIA
No, madam--I did not.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Good heavens! what assurance!--Lydia, Lydia, you ought to know that
lying don't become a young woman!--Didn't you boast that Beverley, that
stroller Beverley, possessed your heart?--Tell me that, I say.

LYDIA
'Tis true, ma'am, and none but Beverley----

Mrs. MALAPROP
Hold!--hold, Assurance!--you shall not be so rude.

ABSOLUTE
Nay, pray, Mrs. Malaprop, don't stop the young lady's speech: she's
very welcome to talk thus--it does not hurt me in the least, I assure
you.

Mrs. MALAPROP
You are too good, captain--too amiably patient--but come with me,
miss.--Let us see you again soon, captain--remember what we have fixed.

ABSOLUTE
I shall, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Come, take a graceful leave of the gentleman.

LYDIA
May every blessing wait on my Beverley, my loved Bev----

Mrs. MALAPROP
Hussy! I'll choke the word in your throat!--come along--come along.

[Exeunt severally; CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE kissing his hand to LYDIA--Mrs.
MALAPROP stopping her from speaking.]

* * * * * * *


Scene IV--ACRES' Lodgings.
[ACRES, as just dressed, and DAVID.]

ACRES
Indeed, David--do you think I become it so?

DAVID
You are quite another creature, believe me, master, by the mass! an'
we've any luck we shall see the Devon mon kerony in all the print-shops
in Bath!

ACRES
Dress does make a difference, David.

DAVID
'Tis all in all, I think.--Difference! why, an' you were to go now to
Clod-Hall, I am certain the old lady wouldn't know you: Master Butler
wouldn't believe his own eyes, and Mrs. Pickle would cry, Lard presarve
me! our dairy-maid would come giggling to the door, and I warrant Dolly
Tester, your honour's favourite, would blush like my waistcoat.--Oons!
I'll hold a gallon, there ain't a dog in the house but would bark, and
I question whether Phillis would wag a hair of her tail!

ACRES
Ay, David, there's nothing like polishing.

DAVID
So I says of your honour's boots; but the boy never heeds me!

ACRES
But, David, has Mr. De-la-grace been here? I must rub up my balancing,
and chasing, and boring.

DAVID
I'll call again, sir.

ACRES
Do--and see if there are any letters for me at the post-office.

DAVID
I will.--By the mass, I can't help looking at your head!--if I hadn't
been by at the cooking, I wish I may die if I should have known the
dish again myself! [Exit.]

ACRES
[Practising a dancing-step.] Sink, slide--coupee.--Confound the first
inventors of cotillions! say I--they are as bad as algebra to us country
gentlemen--I can walk a minuet easy enough when I am forced!--and I
have been accounted a good stick in a country-dance.--Odds jigs and
tabors! I never valued your cross-over to couple--figure in--right and
left--and I'd foot it with e'er a captain in the county!--but these
outlandish heathen allemandes and cotillions are quite beyond me!--I
shall never prosper at 'em, that's sure--mine are true-born English
legs--they don't understand their curst French lingo!--their _pas_
this, and _pas_ that, and _pas_ t'other!--damn me! my feet don't like
to be called paws! no, 'tis certain I have most Antigallican toes!

[Enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT
Here is Sir Lucius O'Trigger to wait on you, sir.

ACRES
Show him in.

[Exit SERVANT.]

[Enter Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER.]

Sir LUCIUS
Mr. Acres, I am delighted to embrace you.

ACRES
My dear Sir Lucius, I kiss your hands.

Sir LUCIUS
Pray, my friend, what has brought you so suddenly to Bath?

ACRES
Faith! I have followed Cupid's Jack-a-lantern, and find myself in a
quagmire at last.--In short, I have been very ill used, Sir Lucius.--I
don't choose to mention names, but look on me as on a very ill-used
gentleman.

Sir LUCIUS
Pray what is the case?--I ask no names.

ACRES
Mark me, Sir Lucius, I fall as deep as need be in love with a young
lady--her friends take my part--I follow her to Bath--send word of my
arrival; and receive answer, that the lady is to be otherwise disposed
of.--This, Sir Lucius, I call being ill-used.

Sir LUCIUS
Very ill, upon my conscience.--Pray, can you divine the cause of it?

ACRES
Why, there's the matter; she has another lover, one Beverley, who, I am
told, is now in Bath.--Odds slanders and lies! he must be at the bottom
of it.

Sir LUCIUS
A rival in the case, is there?--and you think he has supplanted you
unfairly?

ACRES
Unfairly! to be sure he has. He never could have done it fairly.

Sir LUCIUS
Then sure you know what is to be done!

ACRES
Not I, upon my soul!

Sir LUCIUS
We wear no swords here, but you understand me.

ACRES
What! fight him!

Sir LUCIUS
Ay, to be sure: what can I mean else?

ACRES
But he has given me no provocation.

Sir LUCIUS
Now, I think he has given you the greatest provocation in the world.
Can a man commit a more heinous offence against another than to fall in
love with the same woman? Oh, by my soul! it is the most unpardonable
breach of friendship.

ACRES
Breach of friendship! ay, ay; but I have no acquaintance with this man.
I never saw him in my life.

Sir LUCIUS
That's no argument at all--he has the less right then to take such a
liberty.

ACRES
Gad, that's true--I grow full of anger, Sir Lucius!--I fire apace! Odds
hilts and blades! I find a man may have a deal of valour in him, and
not know it! But couldn't I contrive to have a little right of my side?

Sir LUCIUS
What the devil signifies right, when your honour is concerned? Do you
think Achilles, or my little Alexander the Great, ever inquired where
the right lay? No, by my soul, they drew their broad-swords, and left
the lazy sons of peace to settle the justice of it.

ACRES
Your words are a grenadier's march to my heart! I believe courage must
be catching! I certainly do feel a kind of valour rising as it were--a
kind of courage, as I may say.--Odds flints, pans, and triggers! I'll
challenge him directly.

Sir LUCIUS
Ah, my little friend, if I had Blunderbuss Hall here, I could show you
a range of ancestry, in the O'Trigger line, that would furnish the new
room; every one of whom had killed his man!--For though the
mansion-house and dirty acres have slipped through my fingers, I thank
heaven our honour and the family-pictures are as fresh as ever.

ACRES
O, Sir Lucius! I have had ancestors too!--every man of 'em colonel or
captain in the militia!--Odds balls and barrels! say no more--I'm
braced for it. The thunder of your words has soured the milk of human
kindness in my breast;--Zounds! as the man in the play says, _I could
do such deeds!_

Sir LUCIUS
Come, come, there must be no passion at all in the case--these things
should always be done civilly.

ACRES
I must be in a passion, Sir Lucius--I must be in a rage.--Dear Sir
Lucius, let me be in a rage, if you love me. Come, here's pen and
paper.--[Sits down to write.] I would the ink were red!--Indite, I say,
indite!--How shall I begin? Odds bullets and blades! I'll write a good
bold hand, however.

Sir LUCIUS
Pray compose yourself.

ACRES
Come--now, shall I begin with an oath? Do, Sir Lucius, let me begin
with a damme.

Sir LUCIUS
Pho! pho! do the thing decently, and like a Christian. Begin now--_Sir
----_

ACRES
That's too civil by half.

Sir LUCIUS
_To prevent the confusion that might arise----_

ACRES
Well----

Sir LUCIUS
_From our both addressing the same lady----_

ACRES
Ay, there's the reason--_same_ lady--well----

Sir LUCIUS
_I shall expect the honour of your company----_

ACRES
Zounds! I'm not asking him to dinner.

Sir LUCIUS
Pray be easy.

ACRES
Well, then, _honour of your company----_

Sir LUCIUS
_To settle our pretensions----_

ACRES
Well.

Sir LUCIUS
Let me see, ay, King's-Mead-Fields will do--_in King's-Mead-Fields._

ACRES
So, that's done--Well, I'll fold it up presently; my own crest--a hand
and dagger shall be the seal.

Sir LUCIUS
You see now this little explanation will put a stop at once to all
confusion or misunderstanding that might arise between you.

ACRES
Ay, we fight to prevent any misunderstanding.

Sir LUCIUS
Now, I'll leave you to fix your own time.--Take my advice, and you'll
decide it this evening if you can; then let the worst come of it,
'twill be off your mind to-morrow.

ACRES
Very true.

Sir LUCIUS
So I shall see nothing of you, unless it be by letter, till the
evening.--I would do myself the honour to carry your message; but, to
tell you a secret, I believe I shall have just such another affair on
my own hands. There is a gay captain here, who put a jest on me lately,
at the expense of my country, and I only want to fall in with the
gentleman, to call him out.

ACRES
By my valour, I should like to see you fight first! Odds life! I should
like to see you kill him if it was only to get a little lesson.

Sir LUCIUS
I shall be very proud of instructing you.--Well for the present--but
remember now, when you meet your antagonist, do every thing in a mild
and agreeable manner.--Let your courage be as keen, but at the same
time as polished, as your sword.

[Exeunt severally.]


* * * * * * * * * * *


ACT IV

* * * * * * *


Scene I--ACRES' Lodgings.
[ACRES and DAVID.]

DAVID
Then, by the mass, sir! I would do no such thing--ne'er a Sir Lucius
O'Trigger in the kingdom should make me fight, when I wasn't so minded.
Oons! what will the old lady say, when she hears o't?

ACRES
Ah! David, if you had heard Sir Lucius!--Odds sparks and flames! he
would have roused your valour.

DAVID
Not he, indeed. I hate such bloodthirsty cormorants. Look'ee, master,
if you wanted a bout at boxing, quarter staff, or short-staff, I should
never be the man to bid you cry off: but for your curst sharps and
snaps, I never knew any good come of 'em.

ACRES
But my honour, David, my honour! I must be very careful of my honour.

DAVID
Ay, by the mass! and I would be very careful of it; and I think in
return my honour couldn't do less than to be very careful of me.

ACRES
Odds blades! David, no gentleman will ever risk the loss of his honour!

DAVID
I say then, it would be but civil in honour never to risk the loss of a
gentleman.--Look'ee, master, this honour seems to me to be a marvellous
false friend: ay, truly, a very courtier-like servant.--Put the case, I
was a gentleman (which, thank God, no one can say of me;) well--my
honour makes me quarrel with another gentleman of my
acquaintance.--So--we fight. (Pleasant enough that!) Boh!--I kill
him--(the more's my luck!) now, pray who gets the profit of it?--Why,
my honour. But put the case that he kills me!--by the mass! I go to the
worms, and my honour whips over to my enemy.

ACRES
No, David--in that case!--odds crowns and laurels! your honour follows
you to the grave.

DAVID
Now, that's just the place where I could make a shift to do without it.

ACRES
Zounds! David, you are a coward!--It doesn't become my valour to listen
to you.--What, shall I disgrace my ancestors?--Think of that,
David--think what it would be to disgrace my ancestors!

DAVID
Under favour, the surest way of not disgracing them, is to keep as long
as you can out of their company. Look'ee now, master, to go to them in
such haste--with an ounce of lead in your brains--I should think might
as well be let alone. Our ancestors are very good kind of folks; but
they are the last people I should choose to have a visiting
acquaintance with.

ACRES
But, David, now, you don't think there is such very, very, very great
danger, hey?--Odds life! people often fight without any mischief done!

DAVID
By the mass, I think 'tis ten to one against you!--Oons! here to meet
some lion-headed fellow, I warrant, with his damned double-barrelled
swords, and cut-and-thrust pistols!--Lord bless us! it makes me tremble
to think o't--Those be such desperate bloody-minded weapons! Well, I
never could abide 'em!--from a child I never could fancy 'em!--I
suppose there an't been so merciless a beast in the world as your
loaded pistol!

ACRES
Zounds! I won't be afraid!--Odds fire and fury! you shan't make me
afraid.--Here is the challenge, and I have sent for my dear friend Jack
Absolute to carry it for me.

DAVID
Ay, i' the name of mischief, let him be the messenger.--For my part I
wouldn't lend a hand to it for the best horse in your stable. By the
mass! it don't look like another letter! It is, as I may say, a
designing and malicious-looking letter; and I warrant smells of
gunpowder like a soldier's pouch!--Oons! I wouldn't swear it mayn't go
off!

ACRES
Out, you poltroon! you ha'n't the valour of a grasshopper.

DAVID
Well, I say no more--'twill be sad news, to be sure, at Clod-Hall! but
I ha' done.--How Phillis will howl when she hears of it!--Ay, poor
bitch, she little thinks what shooting her master's going after! And I
warrant old Crop, who has carried your honour, field and road, these
ten years, will curse the hour he was born. [Whimpering.]

ACRES
It won't do, David--I am determined to fight--so get along you coward,
while I'm in the mind.

[Enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT
Captain Absolute, sir.

ACRES
Oh! show him up.

[Exit SERVANT.]

DAVID
Well, Heaven send we be all alive this time to-morrow.

ACRES
What's that?--Don't provoke me, David!

DAVID
Good-bye, master. [Whimpering.]

ACRES
Get along, you cowardly, dastardly, croaking raven!

[Exit DAVID.]

[Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

ABSOLUTE
What's the matter, Bob?

ACRES
A vile, sheep-hearted blockhead! If I hadn't the valour of St. George
and the dragon to boot----

ABSOLUTE
But what did you want with me, Bob?

ACRES
Oh!--There---- [Gives him the challenge.]

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] To Ensign Beverley.--So, what's going on now?--[Aloud.] Well,
what's this?

ACRES
A challenge!

ABSOLUTE
Indeed! Why, you won't fight him; will you, Bob?

ACRES
Egad, but I will, Jack. Sir Lucius has wrought me to it. He has left me
full of rage--and I'll fight this evening, that so much good passion
mayn't be wasted.

ABSOLUTE
But what have I to do with this?

ACRES
Why, as I think you know something of this fellow, I want you to find
him out for me, and give him this mortal defiance.

ABSOLUTE
Well, give it to me, and trust me he gets it.

ACRES
Thank you, my dear friend, my dear Jack; but it is giving you a great
deal of trouble.

ABSOLUTE
Not in the least--I beg you won't mention it.--No trouble in the world,
I assure you.

ACRES
You are very kind.--What it is to have a friend!--You couldn't be my
second, could you, Jack?

ABSOLUTE
Why no, Bob--not in this affair--it would not be quite so proper.

ACRES
Well, then, I must get my friend Sir Lucius. I shall have your good
wishes, however, Jack?

ABSOLUTE
Whenever he meets you, believe me.

[Re-enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT
Sir Anthony Absolute is below, inquiring for the captain.

ABSOLUTE
I'll come instantly.----

[Exit SERVANT.]

Well, my little hero, success attend you. [Going.]

ACRES
----Stay--stay, Jack.--If Beverley should ask you what kind of a man
your friend Acres is, do tell him I am a devil of a fellow--will you,
Jack?

ABSOLUTE
To be sure I shall. I'll say you are a determined dog--hey, Bob!

ACRES
Ah, do, do--and if that frightens him, egad, perhaps he mayn't come. So
tell him I generally kill a man a week; will you, Jack?

ABSOLUTE
I will, I will; I'll say you are called in the country Fighting Bob.

ACRES
Right--right--'tis all to prevent mischief; for I don't want to take
his life if I clear my honour.

ABSOLUTE
No!--that's very kind of you.

ACRES
Why, you don't wish me to kill him--do you, Jack?

ABSOLUTE
No, upon my soul, I do not. But a devil of a fellow, hey? [Going.]

ACRES
True, true--but stay--stay, Jack--you may add, that you never saw me in
such a rage before--a most devouring rage!

ABSOLUTE
I will, I will.

ACRES
Remember, Jack--a determined dog!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, ay, Fighting Bob!

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * *


Scene II--Mrs. MALAPROP's Lodgings.
[Mrs. MALAPROP and LYDIA.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Why, thou perverse one!--tell me what you can object to him? Isn't he a
handsome man?--tell me that. A genteel man? a pretty figure of a man?

LYDIA
[Aside.] She little thinks whom she is praising!--[Aloud.] So is
Beverley, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
No caparisons, miss, if you please. Caparisons don't become a young
woman. No! Captain Absolute is indeed a fine gentleman!

LYDIA
[Aside.] Ay, the Captain Absolute you have seen.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Then he's so well bred;--so full of alacrity, and adulation!--and has
so much to say for himself:--in such good language, too! His
physiognomy so grammatical! Then his presence is so noble! I protest,
when I saw him, I thought of what Hamlet says in the play:--
   "Hesperian curls--the front of Job himself!--
   An eye, like March, to threaten at command!--
   A station, like Harry Mercury, new----"
Something about kissing--on a hill--however, the similitude struck me
directly.

LYDIA
[Aside.] How enraged she'll be presently, when she discovers her
mistake!

[Enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT
Sir Anthony and Captain Absolute are below, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Show them up here.----

[Exit SERVANT.]

Now, Lydia, I insist on your behaving as becomes a young woman. Show
your good breeding, at least, though you have forgot your duty.

LYDIA
Madam, I have told you my resolution!--I shall not only give him no
encouragement, but I won't even speak to, or look at him. [Flings
herself into a chair, with her face from the door.]

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

Sir ANTHONY
Here we are, Mrs. Malaprop; come to mitigate the frowns of unrelenting
beauty,--and difficulty enough I had to bring this fellow.--I don't
know what's the matter; but if I had not held him by force, he'd have
given me the slip.

Mrs. MALAPROP
You have infinite trouble, Sir Anthony, in the affair. I am ashamed for
the cause!--[Aside to LYDIA.] Lydia, Lydia, rise, I beseech you!--pay
your respects!

Sir ANTHONY
I hope, madam, that Miss Languish has reflected on the worth of this
gentleman, and the regard due to her aunt's choice, and my
alliance.--[Aside to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.] Now, Jack, speak to her.

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] What the devil shall I do!--[Aside to Sir ANTHONY.] You see,
sir, she won't even look at me whilst you are here. I knew she
wouldn't! I told you so. Let me entreat you, sir, to leave us together!
[Seems to expostulate with his father.]

LYDIA
[Aside.] I wonder I ha'n't heard my aunt exclaim yet! sure she can't
have looked at him!--perhaps the regimentals are alike, and she is
something blind.

Sir ANTHONY
I say, sir, I won't stir a foot yet!

Mrs. MALAPROP
I am sorry to say, Sir Anthony, that my affluence over my niece is very
small.--[Aside to LYDIA.] Turn round, Lydia: I blush for you!

Sir ANTHONY
May I not flatter myself, that Miss Languish will assign what cause of
dislike she can have to my son!--[Aside to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.] Why don't
you begin, Jack?--Speak, you puppy--speak!

Mrs. MALAPROP
It is impossible, Sir Anthony, she can have any. She will not say she
has.--[Aside to LYDIA.] Answer, hussy! why don't you answer?

Sir ANTHONY
Then, madam, I trust that a childish and hasty predilection will be no
bar to Jack's happiness.--[Aside to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.] Zounds! sirrah!
why don't you speak?

LYDIA
[Aside.] I think my lover seems as little inclined to conversation as
myself.--How strangely blind my aunt must be!

ABSOLUTE
Hem! hem! madam--hem!--[Attempts to speak, then returns to Sir
ANTHONY.] Faith! sir, I am so confounded!--and--so--so--confused!--I
told you I should be so, sir--I knew it.--The--the--tremor of my
passion entirely takes away my presence of mind.

Sir ANTHONY
But it don't take away your voice, fool, does it?--Go up, and speak to
her directly!

[CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE makes signs to Mrs. MALAPROP to leave them together.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Sir Anthony, shall we leave them together?--[Aside to LYDIA.] Ah! you
stubborn little vixen!

Sir ANTHONY
Not yet, ma'am, not yet!--[Aside to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.] What the devil
are you at? unlock your jaws, sirrah, or----

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Now Heaven send she may be too sullen to look round!--I must
disguise my voice.--[Draws near LYDIA, and speaks in a low hoarse
tone.] Will not Miss Languish lend an ear to the mild accents of true
love? Will not----

Sir ANTHONY
What the devil ails the fellow? why don't you speak out?--not stand
croaking like a frog in a quinsy!

ABSOLUTE
The--the--excess of my awe, and my--my--my modesty, quite choke me!

Sir ANTHONY
Ah! your modesty again!--I'll tell you what, Jack; if you don't speak
out directly, and glibly too, I shall be in such a rage!--Mrs.
Malaprop, I wish the lady would favour us with something more than a
side-front.

[Mrs. MALAPROP seems to chide LYDIA.]

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] So all will out, I see!--[Goes up to LYDIA, speaks softly.] Be
not surprised, my Lydia, suppress all surprise at present.

LYDIA
[Aside.] Heavens! 'tis Beverley's voice! Sure he can't have imposed on
Sir Anthony too!--[Looks round by degrees, then starts up.] Is this
possible!--my Beverley!--how can this be?--my Beverley?

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Ah! 'tis all over.

Sir ANTHONY
Beverley!--the devil--Beverley!--What can the girl mean?--this is my
son, Jack Absolute.

Mrs. MALAPROP
For shame, hussy! for shame! your head runs so on that fellow, that you
have him always in your eyes!--beg Captain Absolute's pardon directly.

LYDIA
I see no Captain Absolute, but my loved Beverley!

Sir ANTHONY
Zounds! the girl's mad!--her brain's turned by reading.

Mrs. MALAPROP
O' my conscience, I believe so!--What do you mean by Beverley,
hussy?--You saw Captain Absolute before to-day; there he is--your
husband that shall be.

LYDIA
With all my soul, ma'am--when I refuse my Beverley----

Sir ANTHONY
Oh! she's as mad as Bedlam!--or has this fellow been playing us a
rogue's trick!--Come here, sirrah, who the devil are you?

ABSOLUTE
Faith, sir, I am not quite clear myself; but I'll endeavour to
recollect.

Sir ANTHONY
Are you my son or not?--answer for your mother, you dog, if you won't
for me.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Ay, sir, who are you? O mercy! I begin to suspect!----

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] Ye powers of impudence, befriend me!--[Aloud.] Sir Anthony,
most assuredly I am your wife's son: and that I sincerely believe
myself to be yours also, I hope my duty has always shown.--Mrs.
Malaprop, I am your most respectful admirer, and shall be proud to add
affectionate nephew.--I need not tell my Lydia, that she sees her
faithful Beverley, who, knowing the singular generosity of her temper,
assumed that name and station, which has proved a test of the most
disinterested love, which he now hopes to enjoy in a more elevated
character.

LYDIA
[Sullenly.] So!--there will be no elopement after all!

Sir ANTHONY
Upon my soul, Jack, thou art a very impudent fellow! to do you justice,
I think I never saw a piece of more consummate assurance!

ABSOLUTE
Oh, you flatter me, sir--you compliment--'tis my modesty, you know,
sir,--my modesty that has stood in my way.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, I am glad you are not the dull, insensible varlet you pretended
to be, however!--I'm glad you have made a fool of your father, you
dog--I am. So this was your _penitence_, your _duty_ and
_obedience!_--I thought it was damned sudden!--_You never heard their
names before_, not you!--_what, the Languishes of Worcestershire_,
hey?--_if you could please me in the affair it was all you
desired!_--Ah! you dissembling villain!--What!--[Pointing to Lydia]
_She squints, don't she?--a little red-haired girl!_--hey?--Why, you
hypocritical young rascal!--I wonder you ain't ashamed to hold up your
head!

ABSOLUTE
'Tis with difficulty, sir.--I am confused--very much confused, as you
must perceive.

Mrs. MALAPROP
O Lud! Sir Anthony!--a new light breaks in upon me!--hey!--how! what!
captain, did you write the letters then?--What--am I to thank you for
the elegant compilation of _an old weather-beaten she-dragon_--hey!--O
mercy!--was it you that reflected on my parts of speech?

ABSOLUTE
Dear sir! my modesty will be overpowered at last, if you don't assist
me--I shall certainly not be able to stand it!

Sir ANTHONY
Come, come, Mrs. Malaprop, we must forget and forgive;--odds life!
matters have taken so clever a turn all of a sudden, that I could find
in my heart to be so good-humoured! and so gallant! hey! Mrs. Malaprop!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Well, Sir Anthony, since you desire it, we will not anticipate the
past!--so mind, young people--our retrospection will be all to the
future.

Sir ANTHONY
Come, we must leave them together; Mrs. Malaprop, they long to fly into
each other's arms, I warrant!--Jack--isn't the cheek as I said, hey?--
and the eye, you rogue!--and the lip--hey? Come, Mrs. Malaprop, we'll
not disturb their tenderness--theirs is the time of life for
happiness!--_Youth's the season made for joy_--[Sings.]--hey!--Odds
life! I'm in such spirits,--I don't know what I could not do!--Permit
me, ma'am--[Gives his hand to Mrs. MALAPROP.] Tol-de-rol--'gad, I
should like to have a little fooling myself--Tol-de-rol! de-rol.

[Exit, singing and handing Mrs. MALAPROP.--LYDIA sits sullenly in her
chair.]

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] So much thought bodes me no good.--[Aloud.] So grave, Lydia!

LYDIA
Sir!

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] So!--egad! I thought as much!--that damned monosyllable has
froze me!--[Aloud.] What, Lydia, now that we are as happy in our
friends' consent, as in our mutual vows----

LYDIA
[Peevishly.] Friends' consent indeed!

ABSOLUTE
Come, come, we must lay aside some of our romance--a little wealth and
comfort may be endured after all. And for your fortune, the lawyers
shall make such settlements as----

LYDIA
Lawyers! I hate lawyers!

ABSOLUTE
Nay, then, we will not wait for their lingering forms, but instantly
procure the licence, and----

LYDIA
The licence!--I hate licence!

ABSOLUTE
Oh my love! be not so unkind!--thus let me entreat---- [Kneeling.]

LYDIA
Psha!--what signifies kneeling, when you know I must have you?

ABSOLUTE
[Rising.] Nay, madam, there shall be no constraint upon your
inclinations, I promise you.--If I have lost your heart--I resign the
rest--[Aside.] 'Gad, I must try what a little spirit will do.

LYDIA
[Rising.] Then, sir, let me tell you, the interest you had there was
acquired by a mean, unmanly imposition, and deserves the punishment of
fraud.--What, you have been treating me like a child!--humouring my
romance! and laughing, I suppose, at your success!

ABSOLUTE
You wrong me, Lydia, you wrong me--only hear----

LYDIA
So, while I fondly imagined we were deceiving my relations, and
flattered myself that I should outwit and incense them all--behold my
hopes are to be crushed at once, by my aunt's consent and
approbation--and I am myself the only dupe at last!--[Walking about in
a heat.] But here, sir, here is the picture--Beverley's picture!
[taking a miniature from her bosom] which I have worn, night and day,
in spite of threats and entreaties!--There, sir [Flings it to him.];
and be assured I throw the original from my heart as easily.

ABSOLUTE
Nay, nay, ma'am, we will not differ as to that.--Here [taking out a
picture], here is Miss Lydia Languish.--What a difference!--ay, there
is the heavenly assenting smile that first gave soul and spirit to my
hopes!--those are the lips which sealed a vow, as yet scarce dry in
Cupid's calendar! and there the half-resentful blush, that would have
checked the ardour of my thanks!--Well, all that's past!--all over
indeed!--There, madam--in beauty, that copy is not equal to you, but in
my mind its merit over the original, in being still the same, is
such--that--I cannot find in my heart to part with it. [Puts it up
again.]

LYDIA
[Softening.] 'Tis your own doing, sir--I, I, I suppose you are
perfectly satisfied.

ABSOLUTE
O, most certainly--sure, now, this is much better than being in
love!--ha! ha! ha!--there's some spirit in this!--What signifies
breaking some scores of solemn promises:--all that's of no consequence,
you know. To be sure people will say, that miss don't know her own
mind--but never mind that! Or, perhaps, they may be ill-natured enough
to hint, that the gentleman grew tired of the lady and forsook her--but
don't let that fret you.

LYDIA
There is no bearing his insolence. [Bursts into tears.]

[Re-enter Mrs. MALAPROP and Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Come, we must interrupt your billing and cooing awhile.

LYDIA
This is worse than your treachery and deceit, you base ingrate!
[Sobbing.]

Sir ANTHONY
What the devil's the matter now?--Zounds! Mrs. Malaprop, this is the
oddest billing and cooing I ever heard!--but what the deuce is the
meaning of it?--I am quite astonished!

ABSOLUTE
Ask the lady, sir.

Mrs. MALAPROP
O mercy!--I'm quite analyzed, for my part!--Why, Lydia, what is the
reason of this?

LYDIA
Ask the gentleman, ma'am.

Sir ANTHONY
Zounds! I shall be in a frenzy!--Why, Jack, you are not come out to be
any one else, are you?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Ay, sir, there's no more trick, is there?--you are not like Cerberus,
three gentlemen at once, are you?

ABSOLUTE
You'll not let me speak--I say the lady can account for this much much
better than I can.

LYDIA
Ma'am, you once commanded me never to think of Beverley again--there is
the man--I now obey you: for, from this moment, I renounce him for
ever. [Exit.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
O mercy! and miracles! what a turn here is--why, sure, captain, you
haven't behaved disrespectfully to my niece.

Sir ANTHONY
Ha! ha! ha!--ha! ha! ha!--now I see it. Ha! ha! ha!--now I see it--you
have been too lively, Jack.

ABSOLUTE
Nay, sir, upon my word----

Sir ANTHONY
Come, no lying, Jack--I'm sure 'twas so.

Mrs. MALAPROP
O Lud! Sir Anthony!--O fy, captain!

ABSOLUTE
Upon my soul, ma'am----

Sir ANTHONY
Come, no excuses, Jack; why, your father, you rogue, was so before
you:--the blood of the Absolutes was always impatient.--Ha! ha! ha!
poor little Lydia! why, you've frightened her, you dog, you have.

ABSOLUTE
By all that's good, sir----

Sir ANTHONY
Zounds! say no more, I tell you--Mrs. Malaprop shall make your peace.
You must make his peace, Mrs. Malaprop:--you must tell her 'tis Jack's
way--tell her 'tis all our ways--it runs in the blood of our family!
Come away, Jack--Ha! ha! ha!--Mrs. Malaprop--a young villain! [Pushing
him out.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
O! Sir Anthony!--O fy, captain!

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * *


Scene III--The North Parade.
[Enter Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER.]

Sir LUCIUS
I wonder where this Captain Absolute hides himself! Upon my conscience!
these officers are always in one's way in love affairs:--I remember I
might have married Lady Dorothy Carmine, if it had not been for a
little rogue of a major, who ran away with her before she could get a
sight of me! And I wonder too what it is the ladies can see in them to
be so fond of them--unless it be a touch of the old serpent in 'em,
that makes the little creatures be caught, like vipers, with a bit of
red cloth. Ha! isn't this the captain coming?--faith it is!--There is a
probability of succeeding about that fellow, that is mighty provoking!
Who the devil is he talking to? [Steps aside.]

[Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

ABSOLUTE
[Aside.] To what fine purpose I have been plotting! a noble reward for
all my schemes, upon my soul!--a little gipsy!--I did not think her
romance could have made her so damned absurd either. 'Sdeath, I never
was in a worse humour in my life!--I could cut my own throat, or any
other person's, with the greatest pleasure in the world!

Sir LUCIUS
Oh, faith! I'm in the luck of it. I never could have found him in a
sweeter temper for my purpose--to be sure I'm just come in the nick!
Now to enter into conversation with him, and so quarrel
genteelly.--[Goes up to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.] With regard to that matter,
captain, I must beg leave to differ in opinion with you.

ABSOLUTE
Upon my word, then, you must be a very subtle disputant:--because, sir,
I happened just then to be giving no opinion at all.

Sir LUCIUS
That's no reason. For give me leave to tell you, a man may think an
untruth as well as speak one.

ABSOLUTE
Very true, sir; but if a man never utters his thoughts, I should think
they might stand a chance of escaping controversy.

Sir LUCIUS
Then, sir, you differ in opinion with me, which amounts to the same
thing.

ABSOLUTE
Hark'ee, Sir Lucius; if I had not before known you to be a gentleman,
upon my soul, I should not have discovered it at this interview: for
what you can drive at, unless you mean to quarrel with me, I cannot
conceive!

Sir LUCIUS
I humbly thank you, sir, for the quickness of your
apprehension.--[Bowing.] You have named the very thing I would be at.

ABSOLUTE
Very well, sir; I shall certainly not balk your inclinations.--But I
should be glad you would please to explain your motives.

Sir LUCIUS
Pray, sir, be easy; the quarrel is a very pretty quarrel as it stands;
we should only spoil it by trying to explain it. However, your memory
is very short, or you could not have forgot an affront you passed on me
within this week. So, no more, but name your time and place.

ABSOLUTE
Well, sir, since you are so bent on it, the sooner the better; let it
be this evening--here, by the Spring Gardens. We shall scarcely be
interrupted.

Sir LUCIUS
Faith! that same interruption in affairs of this nature shows very
great ill-breeding. I don't know what's the reason, but in England if a
thing of this kind gets wind, people make such a pother, that a
gentleman can never fight in peace and quietness. However, if it's the
same to you, captain, I should take it as a particular kindness if
you'd let us meet in King's-Mead-Fields, as a little business will call
me there about six o'clock, and I may despatch both matters at once.

ABSOLUTE
'Tis the same to me exactly. A little after six, then, we will discuss
this matter more seriously.

Sir LUCIUS
If you please, sir; there will be very pretty small-sword light, though
it won't do for a long shot. So that matter's settled, and my mind's at
ease! [Exit.]

[Enter FAULKLAND.]

ABSOLUTE
Well met! I was going to look for you. O Faulkland! all the demons of
spite and disappointment have conspired against me! I'm so vex'd, that
if I had not the prospect of a resource in being knocked o' the head
by-and-by, I should scarce have spirits to tell you the cause.

FAULKLAND
What can you mean?--Has Lydia changed her mind?--I should have thought
her duty and inclination would now have pointed to the same object.

ABSOLUTE
Ay, just as the eyes do of a person who squints: when her love-eye was
fixed on me, t'other, her eye of duty, was finely obliqued: but when
duty bid her point that the same way, off t'other turned on a swivel,
and secured its retreat with a frown!

FAULKLAND
But what's the resource you----

ABSOLUTE
Oh, to wind up the whole, a good-natured Irishman here has--[Mimicking
Sir LUCIUS] begged leave to have the pleasure of cutting my throat; and
I mean to indulge him--that's all.

FAULKLAND
Prithee, be serious!

ABSOLUTE
'Tis fact, upon my soul! Sir Lucius O'Trigger--you know him by
sight--for some affront, which I am sure I never intended, has obliged
me to meet him this evening at six o'clock: 'tis on that account I
wished to see you; you must go with me.

FAULKLAND
Nay, there must be some mistake, sure. Sir Lucius shall explain
himself, and I dare say matters may be accommodated. But this evening
did you say? I wish it had been any other time.

ABSOLUTE
Why? there will be light enough: there will (as Sir Lucius says) be
very pretty small-sword light, though it will not do for a long shot.
Confound his long shots.

FAULKLAND
But I am myself a good deal ruffled by a difference I have had with
Julia. My vile tormenting temper has made me treat her so cruelly, that
I shall not be myself till we are reconciled.

ABSOLUTE
By heavens! Faulkland, you don't deserve her!

[Enter SERVANT, gives FAULKLAND a letter, and exit.]

FAULKLAND
Oh, Jack! this is from Julia. I dread to open it! I fear it may be to
take a last leave!--perhaps to bid me return her letters, and
restore--Oh, how I suffer for my folly!

ABSOLUTE
Here, let me see.--[Takes the letter and opens it.] Ay, a final
sentence, indeed!--'tis all over with you, faith!

FAULKLAND
Nay, Jack, don't keep me in suspense!

ABSOLUTE
Here then--[Reads.] _As I am convinced that my dear Faulkland's own
reflections have already upbraided him for his last unkindness to me, I
will not add a word on the subject. I wish to speak with you as soon as
possible. Yours ever and truly,_ Julia. There's stubbornness and
resentment for you!--[Gives him the letter.] Why, man, you don't seem
one whit the happier at this!

FAULKLAND
O yes, I am; but--but----

ABSOLUTE
Confound your buts! you never hear any thing that would make another
man bless himself, but you immediately damn it with a but!

FAULKLAND
Now, Jack, as you are my friend, own honestly--don't you think there is
something forward, something indelicate, in this haste to forgive?
Women should never sue for reconciliation: that should always come from
us. They should retain their coldness till wooed to kindness; and their
pardon, like their love, should "not unsought be won."

ABSOLUTE
I have not patience to listen to you! thou'rt incorrigible! so say no
more on the subject. I must go to settle a few matters. Let me see you
before six, remember, at my lodgings. A poor industrious devil like me,
who have toiled, and drudged, and plotted to gain my ends, and am at
last disappointed by other people's folly, may in pity be allowed to
swear and grumble a little; but a captious sceptic in love, a slave to
fretfulness and whim, who has no difficulties but of his own creating,
is a subject more fit for ridicule than compassion! [Exit.]

FAULKLAND
I feel his reproaches; yet I would not change this too exquisite nicety
for the gross content with which he tramples on the thorns of love! His
engaging me in this duel has started an idea in my head, which I will
instantly pursue. I'll use it as the touchstone of Julia's sincerity
and disinterestedness. If her love prove pure and sterling ore, my name
will rest on it with honour; and once I've stamped it there, I lay
aside my doubts for ever! But if the dross of selfishness, the alloy of
pride, predominate, 'twill be best to leave her as a toy for some less
cautious fool to sigh for! [Exit.]


* * * * * * * * * * *


ACT V

* * * * * * *


Scene I--JULIA's Dressing-Room.
[JULIA discovered alone.]

JULIA
How this message has alarmed me! what dreadful accident can he mean?
why such charge to be alone?--O Faulkland!--how many unhappy
moments--how many tears have you cost me.

[Enter FAULKLAND.]

JULIA
What means this?--why this caution, Faulkland?

FAULKLAND
Alas! Julia, I am come to take a long farewell.

JULIA
Heavens! what do you mean?

FAULKLAND
You see before you a wretch, whose life is forfeited. Nay, start
not!--the infirmity of my temper has drawn all this misery on me. I
left you fretful and passionate--an untoward accident drew me into a
quarrel--the event is, that I must fly this kingdom instantly. O Julia,
had I been so fortunate as to have called you mine entirely, before
this mischance had fallen on me, I should not so deeply dread my
banishment!

JULIA
My soul is oppressed with sorrow at the nature of your misfortune: had
these adverse circumstances arisen from a less fatal cause, I should
have felt strong comfort in the thought that I could now chase from
your bosom every doubt of the warm sincerity of my love. My heart has
long known no other guardian--I now entrust my person to your
honour--we will fly together. When safe from pursuit, my father's will
may be fulfilled--and I receive a legal claim to be the partner of your
sorrows, and tenderest comforter. Then on the bosom of your wedded
Julia, you may lull your keen regret to slumbering; while virtuous
love, with a cherub's hand, shall smooth the brow of upbraiding
thought, and pluck the thorn from compunction.

FAULKLAND
O Julia! I am bankrupt in gratitude! but the time is so pressing, it
calls on you for so hasty a resolution.--Would you not wish some hours
to weigh the advantages you forego, and what little compensation poor
Faulkland can make you beside his solitary love?

JULIA
I ask not a moment. No, Faulkland, I have loved you for yourself: and
if I now, more than ever, prize the solemn engagement which so long has
pledged us to each other, it is because it leaves no room for hard
aspersions on my fame, and puts the seal of duty to an act of love. But
let us not linger. Perhaps this delay----

FAULKLAND
'Twill be better I should not venture out again till dark. Yet am I
grieved to think what numberless distresses will press heavy on your
gentle disposition!

JULIA
Perhaps your fortune may be forfeited by this unhappy act.--I know not
whether 'tis so; but sure that alone can never make us unhappy. The
little I have will be sufficient to support us; and exile never should
be splendid.

FAULKLAND
Ay, but in such an abject state of life, my wounded pride perhaps may
increase the natural fretfulness of my temper, till I become a rude,
morose companion, beyond your patience to endure. Perhaps the
recollection of a deed my conscience cannot justify may haunt me in
such gloomy and unsocial fits, that I shall hate the tenderness that
would relieve me, break from your arms, and quarrel with your fondness!

JULIA
If your thoughts should assume so unhappy a bent, you will the more
want some mild and affectionate spirit to watch over and console you:
one who, by bearing your infirmities with gentleness and resignation,
may teach you so to bear the evils of your fortune.

FAULKLAND
Julia, I have proved you to the quick! and with this useless device I
throw away all my doubts. How shall I plead to be forgiven this last
unworthy effect of my restless, unsatisfied disposition?

JULIA
Has no such disaster happened as you related?

FAULKLAND
I am ashamed to own that it was pretended; yet in pity, Julia, do not
kill me with resenting a fault which never can be repeated: but
sealing, this once, my pardon, let me to-morrow, in the face of Heaven,
receive my future guide and monitress, and expiate my past folly by
years of tender adoration.

JULIA
Hold, Faulkland!--that you are free from a crime, which I before feared
to name, Heaven knows how sincerely I rejoice! These are tears of
thankfulness for that! But that your cruel doubts should have urged you
to an imposition that has wrung my heart, gives me now a pang more keen
than I can express!

FAULKLAND
By Heavens! Julia----

JULIA
Yet hear me,--My father loved you, Faulkland! and you preserved the
life that tender parent gave me; in his presence I pledged my
hand--joyfully pledged it--where before I had given my heart. When,
soon after, I lost that parent, it seemed to me that Providence had, in
Faulkland, shown me whither to transfer without a pause, my grateful
duty, as well as my affection; hence I have been content to bear from
you what pride and delicacy would have forbid me from another. I will
not upbraid you, by repeating how you have trifled with my sincerity
----

FAULKLAND
I confess it all! yet hear----

JULIA
After such a year of trial, I might have flattered myself that I should
not have been insulted with a new probation of my sincerity, as cruel
as unnecessary! I now see it is not in your nature to be content or
confident in love. With this conviction--I never will be yours. While I
had hopes that my persevering attention, and unreproaching kindness,
might in time reform your temper, I should have been happy to have
gained a dearer influence over you; but I will not furnish you with a
licensed power to keep alive an incorrigible fault, at the expense of
one who never would contend with you.

FAULKLAND
Nay, but, Julia, by my soul and honour, if after this----

JULIA
But one word more.--As my faith has once been given to you, I never
will barter it with another.--I shall pray for your happiness with the
truest sincerity; and the dearest blessing I can ask of Heaven to send
you will be to charm you from that unhappy temper, which alone has
prevented the performance of our solemn engagement. All I request of
you is, that you will yourself reflect upon this infirmity, and when
you number up the many true delights it has deprived you of, let it not
be your least regret, that it lost you the love of one who would have
followed you in beggary through the world! [Exit.]

FAULKLAND
She's gone--for ever!--There was an awful resolution in her manner,
that riveted me to my place.--O fool!--dolt!--barbarian! Cursed as I
am, with more imperfections than my fellow wretches, kind Fortune sent
a heaven-gifted cherub to my aid, and, like a ruffian, I have driven
her from my side!--I must now haste to my appointment. Well, my mind is
tuned for such a scene. I shall wish only to become a principal in it,
and reverse the tale my cursed folly put me upon forging here.--O
Love!--tormentor!--fiend!--whose influence, like the moon's, acting on
men of dull souls, makes idiots of them, but meeting subtler spirits,
betrays their course, and urges sensibility to madness! [Exit.]

[Enter LYDIA and MAID.]

MAID
My mistress, ma'am, I know, was here just now--perhaps she is only in
the next room. [Exit.]

LYDIA
Heigh-ho! Though he has used me so, this fellow runs strangely in my
head. I believe one lecture from my grave cousin will make me recall
him.

[Re-enter JULIA.]

O Julia, I am come to you with such an appetite for consolation.--Lud!
child, what's the matter with you? You have been crying!--I'll be
hanged if that Faulkland has not been tormenting you.

JULIA
You mistake the cause of my uneasiness!--Something has flurried me a
little. Nothing that you can guess at.--[Aside.] I would not accuse
Faulkland to a sister!

LYDIA
Ah! whatever vexations you may have, I can assure you mine surpass
them. You know who Beverley proves to be?

JULIA
I will now own to you, Lydia, that Mr. Faulkland had before informed me
of the whole affair. Had young Absolute been the person you took him
for, I should not have accepted your confidence on the subject, without
a serious endeavour to counteract your caprice.

LYDIA
So, then, I see I have been deceived by every one! But I don't
care--I'll never have him.

JULIA
Nay, Lydia----

LYDIA
Why, is it not provoking? when I thought we were coming to the
prettiest distress imaginable, to find myself made a mere Smithfield
bargain of at last! There, had I projected one of the most sentimental
elopements!--so becoming a disguise!--so amiable a ladder of
ropes!--Conscious moon--four horses--Scotch parson--with such surprise
to Mrs. Malaprop--and such paragraphs in the newspapers!--Oh, I shall
die with disappointment!

JULIA
I don't wonder at it!

LYDIA
Now--sad reverse!--what have I to expect, but, after a deal of flimsy
preparation with a bishop's license, and my aunt's blessing, to go
simpering up to the altar; or perhaps be cried three times in a country
church, and have an unmannerly fat clerk ask the consent of every
butcher in the parish to join John Absolute and Lydia Languish,
spinster! Oh that I should live to hear myself called spinster!

JULIA
Melancholy indeed!

LYDIA
How mortifying, to remember the dear delicious shifts I used to be put
to, to gain half a minute's conversation with this fellow! How often
have I stole forth, in the coldest night in January, and found him in
the garden, stuck like a dripping statue! There would he kneel to me in
the snow, and sneeze and cough so pathetically! he shivering with cold
and I with apprehension! and while the freezing blast numbed our
joints, how warmly would he press me to pity his flame, and glow with
mutual ardour!--Ah, Julia, that was something like being in love.

JULIA
If I were in spirits, Lydia, I should chide you only by laughing
heartily at you; but it suits more the situation of my mind, at
present, earnestly to entreat you not to let a man, who loves you with
sincerity, suffer that unhappiness from your caprice, which I know too
well caprice can inflict.

LYDIA
O Lud! what has brought my aunt here?

[Enter Mrs. MALAPROP, FAG, and DAVID.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
So! so! here's fine work!--here's fine suicide, parricide, and
simulation, going on in the fields! and Sir Anthony not to be found to
prevent the antistrophe!

JULIA
For Heaven's sake, madam, what's the meaning of this?

Mrs. MALAPROP
That gentleman can tell you--'twas he enveloped the affair to me.

LYDIA
[To FAG.] Do, sir, will you, inform us?

FAG
Ma'am, I should hold myself very deficient in every requisite that
forms the man of breeding, if I delayed a moment to give all the
information in my power to a lady so deeply interested in the affair as
you are.

LYDIA
But quick! quick sir!

FAG
True, ma'am, as you say, one should be quick in divulging matters of
this nature; for should we be tedious, perhaps while we are flourishing
on the subject, two or three lives may be lost!

LYDIA
O patience!--Do, ma'am, for Heaven's sake! tell us what is the matter?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Why, murder's the matter! slaughter's the matter! killing's the
matter!--but he can tell you the perpendiculars.

LYDIA
Then, prithee, sir, be brief.

FAG
Why, then, ma'am, as to murder--I cannot take upon me to say--and as to
slaughter, or manslaughter, that will be as the jury finds it.

LYDIA
But who, sir--who are engaged in this?

FAG
Faith, ma'am, one is a young gentleman whom I should be very sorry any
thing was to happen to--a very pretty behaved gentleman! We have lived
much together, and always on terms.

LYDIA
But who is this? who! who! who?

FAG
My master, ma'am--my master--I speak of my master.

LYDIA
Heavens! What, Captain Absolute!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Oh, to be sure, you are frightened now!

JULIA
But who are with him, sir?

FAG
As to the rest, ma'am, this gentleman can inform you better than I.

JULIA
[To DAVID.] Do speak, friend.

DAVID
Look'ee, my lady--by the mass! there's mischief going on. Folks don't
use to meet for amusement with firearms, firelocks, fire-engines,
fire-screens, fire-office, and the devil knows what other crackers
beside!--This, my lady, I say, has an angry savour.

JULIA
But who is there beside Captain Absolute, friend?

DAVID
My poor master--under favour for mentioning him first. You know me, my
lady--I am David--and my master of course is, or was, Squire Acres.
Then comes Squire Faulkland.

JULIA
Do, ma'am, let us instantly endeavour to prevent mischief.

Mrs. MALAPROP
O fy! it would be very inelegant in us:--we should only participate
things.

DAVID
Ah! do, Mrs. Aunt, save a few lives--they are desperately given,
believe me.--Above all, there is that bloodthirsty Philistine, Sir
Lucius O'Trigger.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Sir Lucius O'Trigger? O mercy! have they drawn poor little dear Sir
Lucius into the scrape?--Why how you stand, girl! you have no more
feeling than one of the Derbyshire petrifactions!

LYDIA
What are we to do, madam?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Why, fly with the utmost felicity, to be sure, to prevent
mischief!--Here, friend, you can show us the place?

FAG
If you please, ma'am, I will conduct you.--David, do you look for Sir
Anthony.

[Exit DAVID.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Come, girls! this gentleman will exhort us.--Come, sir, you're our
envoy--lead the way, and we'll precede.

FAG
Not a step before the ladies for the world!

Mrs. MALAPROP
You're sure you know the spot?

FAG
I think I can find it, ma'am; and one good thing is, we shall hear the
report of the pistols as we draw near, so we can't well miss
them;--never fear, ma'am, never fear.

[Exeunt, he talking.]

* * * * * * *


Scene II--The South Parade.
[Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE, putting his sword under his great coat.]

ABSOLUTE
A sword seen in the streets of Bath would raise as great an alarm as a
mad dog.--How provoking this is in Faulkland!--never punctual! I shall
be obliged to go without him at last.--Oh, the devil! here's Sir
Anthony! how shall I escape him? [Muffles up his face, and takes a
circle to go off.]

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Sir ANTHONY
How one may be deceived at a little distance! Only that I see he don't
know me, I could have sworn that was Jack!--Hey! Gad's life! it
is.--Why, Jack, what are you afraid of? hey!--sure I'm right. Why Jack,
Jack Absolute! [Goes up to him.]

ABSOLUTE
Really, sir, you have the advantage of me:--I don't remember ever to
have had the honour--my name is Saunderson, at your service.

Sir ANTHONY
Sir, I beg your pardon--I took you--hey?--why, zounds! it
is--Stay--[Looks up to his face.] So, so--your humble servant, Mr.
Saunderson! Why, you scoundrel, what tricks are you after now?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, a joke, sir, a joke! I came here on purpose to look for you, sir.

Sir ANTHONY
You did! well, I am glad you were so lucky:--but what are you muffled
up so for?--what's this for?--hey!

ABSOLUTE
'Tis cool, sir, isn't it?--rather chilly somehow:--but I shall be
late--I have a particular engagement.

Sir ANTHONY
Stay!--Why, I thought you were looking for me?--Pray, Jack, where is't
you are going?

ABSOLUTE
Going, sir?

Sir ANTHONY
Ay, where are you going?

ABSOLUTE
Where am I going?

Sir ANTHONY
You unmannerly puppy!

ABSOLUTE
I was going, sir, to--to--to--to Lydia--sir, to Lydia--to make matters
up if I could;--and I was looking for you, sir, to--to----

Sir ANTHONY
To go with you, I suppose.--Well, come along.

ABSOLUTE
Oh! zounds! no, sir, not for the world!--I wished to meet with you,
sir,--to--to--to--You find it cool, I'm sure, sir--you'd better not
stay out.

Sir ANTHONY
Cool!--not at all.--Well, Jack--and what will you say to Lydia?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, sir, beg her pardon, humour her--promise and vow: but I detain you,
sir--consider the cold air on your gout.

Sir ANTHONY
Oh, not at all!--Not at all! I'm in no hurry.--Ah! Jack, you
youngsters, when once you are wounded here [Putting his hand to
CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE's breast.] Hey! what the deuce have you got here?

ABSOLUTE
Nothing, sir--nothing.

Sir ANTHONY
What's this?--here's something damned hard.

ABSOLUTE
Oh, trinkets, sir! trinkets!--a bauble for Lydia!

Sir ANTHONY
Nay, let me see your taste.--[Pulls his coat open, the sword falls.]
Trinkets!--a bauble for Lydia!--Zounds! sirrah, you are not going to
cut her throat, are you?

ABSOLUTE
Ha! ha! ha!--I thought it would divert you, sir, though I didn't mean
to tell you till afterwards.

Sir ANTHONY
You didn't?--Yes, this is a very diverting trinket, truly!

ABSOLUTE
Sir, I'll explain to you.--You know, sir, Lydia is romantic, devilish
romantic, and very absurd of course: now, sir, I intend, if she refuses
to forgive me, to unsheath this sword, and swear--I'll fall upon its
point, and expire at her feet!

Sir ANTHONY
Fall upon a fiddlestick's end!--why, I suppose it is the very thing
that would please her.--Get along, you fool!

ABSOLUTE
Well, sir, you shall hear of my success--you shall hear.--_O
Lydia!--forgive me, or this pointed steel_--says I.

Sir ANTHONY
_O, booby! stay away and welcome_--says she.--Get along! and damn your
trinkets!

[Exit CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

[Enter DAVID, running.]

DAVID
Stop him! stop him! Murder! Thief! Fire!--Stop fire! Stop fire!--O Sir
Anthony--call! call! bid 'm stop! Murder! Fire!

Sir ANTHONY
Fire! Murder!--Where?

DAVID
Oons! he's out of sight! and I'm out of breath! for my part! O Sir
Anthony, why didn't you stop him? why didn't you stop him?

Sir ANTHONY
Zounds! the fellow's mad!--Stop whom? stop Jack?

DAVID
Ay, the captain, sir!--there's murder and slaughter----

Sir ANTHONY
Murder!

DAVID
Ay, please you, Sir Anthony, there's all kinds of murder, all sorts of
slaughter to be seen in the fields: there's fighting going on,
sir--bloody sword-and-gun fighting!

Sir ANTHONY
Who are going to fight, dunce?

DAVID
Every body that I know of, Sir Anthony:--everybody is going to fight,
my poor master, Sir Lucius O'Trigger, your son, the captain----

Sir ANTHONY
Oh, the dog! I see his tricks.--Do you know the place?

DAVID
King's-Mead-Fields.

Sir ANTHONY
You know the way?

DAVID
Not an inch; but I'll call the
mayor--aldermen--constables--churchwardens--and beadles--we can't be
too many to part them.

Sir ANTHONY
Come along--give me your shoulder! we'll get assistance as we go--the
lying villain!--Well, I shall be in such a frenzy!--So--this was the
history of his trinkets! I'll bauble him!

[Exeunt.]

* * * * * * *


Scene III--King's-Mead-Fields.
[Enter Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER and ACRES, with pistols.]

ACRES
By my valour! then, Sir Lucius, forty yards is a good distance. Odds
levels and aims!--I say it is a good distance.

Sir LUCIUS
Is it for muskets or small field-pieces? Upon my conscience, Mr. Acres,
you must leave those things to me.--Stay now--I'll show you.--[Measures
paces along the stage.] There now, that is a very pretty distance--a
pretty gentleman's distance.

ACRES
Zounds! we might as well fight in a sentry-box! I tell you, Sir Lucius,
the farther he is off, the cooler I shall take my aim.

Sir LUCIUS
Faith! then I suppose you would aim at him best of all if he was out of
sight!

ACRES
No, Sir Lucius; but I should think forty or eight-and-thirty yards----

Sir LUCIUS
Pho! pho! nonsense! three or four feet between the mouths of your
pistols is as good as a mile.

ACRES
Odds bullets, no!--by my valour! there is no merit in killing him so
near; do, my dear Sir Lucius, let me bring him down at a long shot:--a
long shot, Sir Lucius, if you love me!

Sir LUCIUS
Well, the gentleman's friend and I must settle that.--But tell me now,
Mr. Acres, in case of an accident, is there any little will or
commission I could execute for you?

ACRES
I am much obliged to you, Sir Lucius--but I don't understand----

Sir LUCIUS
Why, you may think there's no being shot at without a little risk--and
if an unlucky bullet should carry a quietus with it--I say it will be
no time then to be bothering you about family matters.

ACRES
A quietus!

Sir LUCIUS
For instance, now--if that should be the case--would you choose to be
pickled and sent home?--or would it be the same to you to lie here in
the Abbey? I'm told there is very snug lying in the Abbey.

ACRES
Pickled!--Snug lying in the Abbey!--Odds tremors! Sir Lucius, don't
talk so!

Sir LUCIUS
I suppose, Mr. Acres, you never were engaged in an affair of this kind
before?

ACRES
No, Sir Lucius, never before.

Sir LUCIUS
Ah! that's a pity!--there's nothing like being used to a thing.--Pray
now, how would you receive the gentleman's shot?

ACRES
Odds files!--I've practised that--there, Sir Lucius--there. [Puts
himself in an attitude.] A side-front, hey? Odd! I'll make myself small
enough: I'll stand edgeways.

Sir LUCIUS
Now--you're quite out--for if you stand so when I take my aim----
[Levelling at him.]

ACRES
Zounds! Sir Lucius--are you sure it is not cocked?

Sir LUCIUS
Never fear.

ACRES
But--but--you don't know--it may go off of its own head!

Sir LUCIUS
Pho! be easy.--Well, now if I hit you in the body, my bullet has a
double chance--for if it misses a vital part of your right side, 'twill
be very hard if it don't succeed on the left!

ACRES
A vital part!

Sir LUCIUS
But, there--fix yourself so--[Placing him]--let him see the broad-side
of your full front--there--now a ball or two may pass clean through
your body, and never do any harm at all.

ACRES
Clean through me!--a ball or two clean through me!

Sir LUCIUS
Ay--may they--and it is much the genteelest attitude into the bargain.

ACRES
Look'ee! Sir Lucius--I'd just as lieve be shot in an awkward posture as
a genteel one; so, by my valour! I will stand edgeways.

Sir LUCIUS
[Looking at his watch.] Sure they don't mean to disappoint
us--Hah!--no, faith--I think I see them coming.

ACRES
Hey!--what!--coming!----

Sir LUCIUS
Ay.--Who are those yonder getting over the stile?

ACRES
There are two of them indeed!--well--let them come--hey, Sir
Lucius!--we--we--we--we--won't run.

Sir LUCIUS
Run!

ACRES
No--I say--we won't run, by my valour!

Sir LUCIUS
What the devil's the matter with you?

ACRES
Nothing--nothing--my dear friend--my dear Sir Lucius--but I--I--I don't
feel quite so bold, somehow, as I did.

Sir LUCIUS
O fy!--consider your honour.

ACRES
Ay--true--my honour. Do, Sir Lucius, edge in a word or two every now
and then about my honour.

Sir LUCIUS
[Looking.] Well, here they're coming.

ACRES
Sir Lucius--if I wa'n't with you, I should almost think I was
afraid.--If my valour should leave me!--Valour will come and go.

Sir LUCIUS
Then pray keep it fast, while you have it.

ACRES
Sir Lucius--I doubt it is going--yes--my valour is certainly going!--it
is sneaking off!--I feel it oozing out as it were at the palms of my
hands!

Sir LUCIUS
Your honour--your honour.--Here they are.

ACRES
O mercy!--now--that I was safe at Clod-Hall! or could be shot before I
was aware!

[Enter FAULKLAND and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

Sir LUCIUS
Gentlemen, your most obedient.--Hah!--what, Captain Absolute!--So, I
suppose, sir, you are come here, just like myself--to do a kind office,
first for your friend--then to proceed to business on your own account.

ACRES
What, Jack!--my dear Jack!--my dear friend!

ABSOLUTE
Hark'ee, Bob, Beverley's at hand.

Sir LUCIUS
Well, Mr. Acres--I don't blame your saluting the gentleman
civilly.--[To FAULKLAND.] So, Mr. Beverley, if you'll choose your
weapons, the captain and I will measure the ground.

FAULKLAND
My weapons, sir!

ACRES
Odds life! Sir Lucius, I'm not going to fight Mr. Faulkland; these are
my particular friends.

Sir LUCIUS
What, sir, did you not come here to fight Mr. Acres?

FAULKLAND
Not I, upon my word, sir.

Sir LUCIUS
Well, now, that's mighty provoking! But I hope, Mr. Faulkland, as there
are three of us come on purpose for the game, you won't be so
cantanckerous as to spoil the party by sitting out.

ABSOLUTE
O pray, Faulkland, fight to oblige Sir Lucius.

FAULKLAND
Nay, if Mr. Acres is so bent on the matter----

ACRES
No, no, Mr. Faulkland;--I'll bear my disappointment like a
Christian.--Look'ee, Sir Lucius, there's no occasion at all for me to
fight; and if it is the same to you, I'd as lieve let it alone.

Sir LUCIUS
Observe me, Mr. Acres--I must not be trifled with. You have certainly
challenged somebody--and you came here to fight him. Now, if that
gentleman is willing to represent him--I can't see, for my soul, why it
isn't just the same thing.

ACRES
Why no--Sir Lucius--I tell you, 'tis one Beverley I've challenged--a
fellow, you see, that dare not show his face!--if he were here, I'd
make him give up his pretensions directly!

ABSOLUTE
Hold, Bob--let me set you right--there is no such man as Beverley in
the case.--The person who assumed that name is before you; and as his
pretensions are the same in both characters, he is ready to support
them in whatever way you please.

Sir LUCIUS
Well, this is lucky.--Now you have an opportunity----

ACRES
What, quarrel with my dear friend Jack Absolute?--not if he were fifty
Beverleys! Zounds! Sir Lucius, you would not have me so unnatural.

Sir LUCIUS
Upon my conscience, Mr. Acres, your valour has oozed away with a
vengeance!

ACRES
Not in the least! Odds backs and abettors! I'll be your second with all
my heart--and if you should get a quietus, you may command me entirely.
I'll get you snug lying in the Abbey here; or pickle you, and send you
over to Blunderbuss-hall, or anything of the kind, with the greatest
pleasure.

Sir LUCIUS
Pho! pho! you are little better than a coward.

ACRES
Mind, gentlemen, he calls me a coward; coward was the word, by my
valour!

Sir LUCIUS
Well, sir?

ACRES
Look'ee, Sir Lucius, 'tisn't that I mind the word coward--coward may be
said in joke--But if you had called me a poltroon, odds daggers and
balls----

Sir LUCIUS
Well, sir?

ACRES
I should have thought you a very ill-bred man.

Sir LUCIUS
Pho! you are beneath my notice.

ABSOLUTE
Nay, Sir Lucius, you can't have a better second than my friend
Acres--He is a most determined dog--called in the country, Fighting
Bob.--He generally kills a man a week--don't you Bob?

ACRES
Ay--at home!

Sir LUCIUS
Well, then, captain, 'tis we must begin--so come out, my little
counsellor--[Draws his sword]--and ask the gentleman, whether he will
resign the lady, without forcing you to proceed against him?

ABSOLUTE
Come on then, sir--[Draws]; since you won't let it be an amicable suit,
here's my reply.

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE, DAVID, Mrs. MALAPROP, LYDIA, and JULIA.]

DAVID
Knock 'em all down, sweet Sir Anthony; knock down my master in
particular; and bind his hands over to their good behaviour!

Sir ANTHONY
Put up, Jack, put up, or I shall be in a frenzy--how came you in a
duel, sir?

ABSOLUTE
Faith, sir, that gentleman can tell you better than I; 'twas he called
on me, and you know, sir, I serve his majesty.

Sir ANTHONY
Here's a pretty fellow; I catch him going to cut a man's throat, and he
tells me, he serves his majesty!--Zounds! sirrah, then how durst you
draw the king's sword against one of his subjects?

ABSOLUTE
Sir! I tell you, that gentleman called me out, without explaining his
reasons.

Sir ANTHONY
Gad! sir, how came you to call my son out, without explaining your
reasons!

Sir LUCIUS
Your son, sir, insulted me in a manner which my honour could not brook.

Sir ANTHONY
Zounds! Jack, how durst you insult the gentleman in a manner which his
honour could not brook?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Come, come, let's have no honour before ladies--Captain Absolute, come
here--How could you intimidate us so?--Here's Lydia has been terrified
to death for you.

ABSOLUTE
For fear I should be killed, or escape, ma'am?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Nay, no delusions to the past--Lydia is convinced; speak, child.

Sir LUCIUS
With your leave, ma'am, I must put in a word here: I believe I could
interpret the young lady's silence. Now mark----

LYDIA
What is it you mean, sir?

Sir LUCIUS
Come, come, Delia, we must be serious now--this is no time for
trifling.

LYDIA
'Tis true, sir; and your reproof bids me offer this gentleman my hand,
and solicit the return of his affections.

ABSOLUTE
O! my little angel, say you so?--Sir Lucius--I perceive there must be
some mistake here, with regard to the affront which you affirm I have
given you. I can only say, that it could not have been intentional. And
as you must be convinced, that I should not fear to support a real
injury--you shall now see that I am not ashamed to atone for an
inadvertency--I ask your pardon.--But for this lady, while honoured
with her approbation, I will support my claim against any man whatever.

Sir ANTHONY
Well said, Jack, and I'll stand by you, my boy.

ACRES
Mind, I give up all my claim--I make no pretensions to any thing in the
world; and if I can't get a wife without fighting for her, by my
valour! I'll live a bachelor.

Sir LUCIUS
Captain, give me your hand: an affront handsomely acknowledged becomes
an obligation; and as for the lady, if she chooses to deny her own
hand-writing, here---- [Takes out letters.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
O, he will dissolve my mystery!--Sir Lucius, perhaps there's some
mistake--perhaps I can illuminate----

Sir LUCIUS
Pray, old gentlewoman, don't interfere where you have no
business.--Miss Languish, are you my Delia, or not?

LYDIA
Indeed, Sir Lucius, I am not. [Walks aside with CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Sir Lucius O'Trigger--ungrateful as you are--I own the soft impeachment
--pardon my blushes, I am Delia.

Sir LUCIUS
You Delia--pho! pho! be easy.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Why, thou barbarous Vandyke--those letters are mine--When you are more
sensible of my benignity--perhaps I may be brought to encourage your
addresses.

Sir LUCIUS
Mrs. Malaprop, I am extremely sensible of your condescension; and
whether you or Lucy have put this trick on me, I am equally beholden to
you.--And, to show you I am not ungrateful, Captain Absolute, since you
have taken that lady from me, I'll give you my Delia into the bargain.

ABSOLUTE
I am much obliged to you, Sir Lucius; but here's my friend, Fighting
Bob, unprovided for.

Sir LUCIUS
Hah! little Valour--here, will you make your fortune?

ACRES
Odds wrinkles! No.--But give me your hand, Sir Lucius, forget and
forgive; but if ever I give you a chance of pickling me again, say Bob
Acres is a dunce, that's all.

Sir ANTHONY
Come, Mrs. Malaprop, don't be cast down--you are in your bloom yet.

Mrs. MALAPROP
O Sir Anthony--men are all barbarians.

[All retire but JULIA and FAULKLAND.]

JULIA
[Aside.] He seems dejected and unhappy--not sullen; there was some
foundation, however, for the tale he told me--O woman! how true should
be your judgment, when your resolution is so weak!

FAULKLAND
Julia!--how can I sue for what I so little deserve? I dare not
presume--yet Hope is the child of Penitence.

JULIA
Oh! Faulkland, you have not been more faulty in your unkind treatment
of me, than I am now in wanting inclination to resent it. As my heart
honestly bids me place my weakness to the account of love, I should be
ungenerous not to admit the same plea for yours.

FAULKLAND
Now I shall be blest indeed!

Sir ANTHONY
[Coming forward.] What's going on here?--So you have been quarrelling
too, I warrant! Come, Julia, I never interfered before; but let me have
a hand in the matter at last.--All the faults I have ever seen in my
friend Faulkland seemed to proceed from what he calls the delicacy and
warmth of his affection for you--There, marry him directly, Julia;
you'll find he'll mend surprisingly!

[The rest come forward.]

Sir LUCIUS
Come, now, I hope there is no dissatisfied person, but what is content;
for as I have been disappointed myself, it will be very hard if I have
not the satisfaction of seeing other people succeed better.

ACRES
You are right, Sir Lucius.--So Jack, I wish you joy--Mr. Faulkland the
same.--Ladies,--come now, to show you I'm neither vexed nor angry, odds
tabors and pipes! I'll order the fiddles in half an hour to the New
Rooms--and I insist on your all meeting me there.

Sir ANTHONY
'Gad! sir, I like your spirit; and at night we single lads will drink a
health to the young couples, and a husband to Mrs. Malaprop.

FAULKLAND
Our partners are stolen from us, Jack--I hope to be congratulated by
each other--yours for having checked in time the errors of an
ill-directed imagination, which might have betrayed an innocent heart;
and mine, for having, by her gentleness and candour, reformed the
unhappy temper of one, who by it made wretched whom he loved most, and
tortured the heart he ought to have adored.

ABSOLUTE
Well, Jack, we have both tasted the bitters, as well as the sweets of
love; with this difference only, that you always prepared the bitter
cup for yourself, while I----

LYDIA
Was always obliged to me for it, hey! Mr. Modesty?--But come, no more
of that--our happiness is now as unalloyed as general.

JULIA
Then let us study to preserve it so: and while Hope pictures to us a
flattering scene of future bliss, let us deny its pencil those colours
which are too bright to be lasting.--When hearts deserving happiness
would unite their fortunes, Virtue would crown them with an unfading
garland of modest hurtless flowers; but ill-judging Passion will force
the gaudier rose into the wreath, whose thorn offends them when its
leaves are dropped!

[Exeunt omnes.]


* * * * * * * * * *


EPILOGUE
By the Author

Spoken by MRS. BULKLEY

  Ladies, for you--I heard our poet say--
  He'd try to coax some moral from his play:
  "One moral's plain," cried I, "without more fuss;
  Man's social happiness all rests on us:
  Through all the drama--whether damn'd or not--
  Love gilds the scene, and women guide the plot.
  From every rank obedience is our due--
  D'ye doubt?--The world's great stage shall prove it true."
    The cit, well skill'd to shun domestic strife,
  Will sup abroad; but first he'll ask his wife:
  John Trot, his friend, for once will do the same,
  But then--he'll just step home to tell his dame.
    The surly squire at noon resolves to rule,
  And half the day--Zounds! madam is a fool!
  Convinced at night, the vanquish'd victor says,
  Ah, Kate! you women have such coaxing ways.
    The jolly toper chides each tardy blade,
  Till reeling Bacchus calls on Love for aid:
  Then with each toast he sees fair bumpers swim,
  And kisses Chloe on the sparkling brim!
    Nay, I have heard that statesmen--great and wise--
  Will sometimes counsel with a lady's eyes!
  The servile suitors watch her various face,
  She smiles preferment, or she frowns disgrace,
  Curtsies a pension here--there nods a place.
    Nor with less awe, in scenes of humbler life,
  Is view'd the mistress, or is heard the wife.
  The poorest peasant of the poorest soil,
  The child of poverty, and heir to toil,
  Early from radiant Love's impartial light
  Steals one small spark to cheer this world of night:
  Dear spark! that oft through winter's chilling woes
  Is all the warmth his little cottage knows!
    The wandering tar, who not for years has press'd,
  The widow'd partner of his day of rest,
  On the cold deck, far from her arms removed,
  Still hums the ditty which his Susan loved;
  And while around the cadence rude is blown,
  The boatswain whistles in a softer tone.
    The soldier, fairly proud of wounds and toil,
  Pants for the triumph of his Nancy's smile!
  But ere the battle should he list her cries,
  The lover trembles--and the hero dies!
  That heart, by war and honour steel'd to fear,
  Droops on a sigh, and sickens at a tear!
    But ye more cautious, ye nice-judging few,
  Who give to beauty only beauty's due,
  Though friends to love--ye view with deep regret
  Our conquests marr'd, our triumphs incomplete,
  Till polish'd wit more lasting charms disclose,
  And judgment fix the darts which beauty throws!
  In female breasts did sense and merit rule,
  The lover's mind would ask no other school;
  Shamed into sense, the scholars of our eyes,
  Our beaux from gallantry would soon be wise;
  Would gladly light, their homage to improve,
  The lamp of knowledge at the torch of love!

* * * * * * * * * *