MISS HOYDEN _discovered alone_.
_Miss Hoyd_. Sure, nobody was ever used as I am! I know well
enough what other girls do, for all they think to make a fool o'
me. It's well I have a husband a-coming, or ecod I'd marry the
baker, I would so. Nobody can knock at the gate, but presently I
must be locked up; and here's the young greyhound can run loose
about the house all the day, so she can.--'Tis very well!
_Nurse_. [_Without opening the door_.] Miss Hoyden!
miss, miss, miss! Miss Hoyden!
_Enter_ NURSE.
_Miss Hoyd_. Well, what do you make such a noise for, eh?
What do you din a body's ears for? Can't one be at quiet for you?
_Nurse_. What do I din your ears for? Here's one come will
din your ears for you.
_Miss Hoyd_. What care I who's come? I care not a fig who
comes, or who goes, so long as I must be locked up like the ale-cellar.
_Nurse_. That, miss, is for fear you should be drank before
you are ripe.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, don't trouble your head about that; I'm as
ripe as you, though not so mellow.
_Nurse_. Very well! Now I have a good mind to lock you up
again, and not let you see my lord to-night.
_Miss Hoyd_. My lord: why, is my husband come?
_Nurse_. Yes, marry, is he; and a goodly person too.
_Miss Hoyd_. [_Hugs_ NURSE.] Oh, my dear nurse, forgive
me this once, and I'll never misuse you again; no, if I do, you
shall give me three thumps on the back, and a great pinch by the
cheek.
_Nurse_. Ah, the poor thing! see now it melts; it's as full
of good-nature as an egg's full of meat.
_Miss Hoyd._ But, my dear nurse, don't lie now--is he come,
by your troth?
_Nurse._ Yes, by my truly, is he.
_Miss Hoyd_. O Lord! I'll go and put on my laced tucker,
though I'm locked up for a month for't.
[_Exeunt_. MISS HOYDEN _goes off capering, and twirling
her doll by its leg._]
ACT IV.
SCENE I.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House._
_Enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.
_Nurse_. Well, miss, how do you like your husband that is to
be?
_Miss Hoyd_. O Lord, nurse, I'm so overjoyed I can scarce
contain myself!
_Nurse_. Oh, but you must have a care of being too fond; for
men, nowadays, hate a woman that loves 'em.
_Miss Hoyd_. Love him! why, do you think I love him, nurse?
Ecod I would not care if he was hanged, so I were but once
married to him. No, that which pleases me is to think what work
I'll make when I get to London; for when I am a wife and a lady
both, ecod, I'll flaunt it with the best of 'em. Ay, and I shall
have money enough to do so too, nurse.
_Nurse_. Ah, there's no knowing that, miss; for though these
lords have a power of wealth indeed, yet, as I have heard say,
they give it all to their sluts and their trulls, who joggle it
about in their coaches, with a murrain to 'em, whilst poor madam
sits sighing and wishing, and has not a spare half-crown to buy
her a Practice of Piety.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, but for that, don't deceive yourself,
nurse; for this I must say of my lord, he's as free as an open
house at Christmas; for this very morning he told me I should
have six hundred a year to buy pins. Now if he gives me six
hundred a year to buy pins, what do you think he'll give me to
buy petticoats?
_Nurse_. Ay, my dearest, he deceives thee foully, and he's
no better than a rogue for his pains! These Londoners have got a
gibberish with 'em would confound a gipsy. That which they call
pin-money, is to buy everything in the versal world, down to
their very shoe-knots. Nay, I have heard some folks say that some
ladies, if they'll have gallants as they call 'em, are forced to
find them out of their pin-money too.--But look, look, if his
honour be not coming to you!--Now, if I were sure you would
behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought
you up, I'd leave you alone together.
_Miss Hoyd_. That's my best nurse; do as you'd be done by.
Trust us together this once, and if I don't show my breeding, I
wish I may never be married, but die an old maid.
_Nurse_. Well, this once I'll venture you. But if you
disparage me--
_Miss Hoyd_. Never fear. [_Exit_ NURSE.]
_Enter_ TOM FASHION.
_Fash_. Your servant, madam; I'm glad to find you alone, for
I have something of importance to speak to you about.
_Miss Hoyd_. Sir (my lord, I meant), you may speak to me
about what you please, I shall give you a civil answer.
_Fash_. You give so obliging an one, it encourages me to
tell you in a few words what I think, both for your interest and
mine. Your father, I suppose you know, has resolved to make me
happy in being your husband; and I hope I may obtain your consent
to perform what he desires.
_Miss Hoyd_. Sir, I never disobey my father in anything but
eating green gooseberries.
_Fash_. So good a daughter must needs be an admirable wife.
I am therefore impatient till you are mine, and hope you will so
far consider the violence of my love, that you won't have the
cruelty to defer my happiness so long as your father designs it.
_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, my lord, how long is that?
_Fash_. Madam, a thousand years--a whole week.
_Miss Hoyd_. Why, I thought it was to be to-morrow morning,
as soon as I was up. I'm sure nurse told me so.
_Fash_. And it shall be to-morrow morning, if you'll
consent.
_Miss Hoyd_. If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey
you as my husband.
_Fash_. That's when we are married. Till then, I'm to obey
you.
_Miss Hoyd_. Why then, if we are to take it by turns, it's
the same thing. I'll obey you now, and when we are married you
shall obey me.
_Fash_. With all my heart. But I doubt we must get nurse on
our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the chaplain.
_Miss Hoyd_. No more we shan't, indeed; for he loves her
better than he loves his pulpit, and would always be a-preaching
to her by his good will.
_Fash_. Why then, my dear, if you'll call her hither we'll
persuade her presently.
_Miss Hoyd_. O Lud! I'll tell you a way how to persuade her
to anything.
_Fash_. How's that?
_Miss Hoyd_. Why tell her she's a handsome comely woman, and
give her half a crown.
_Fash_. Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of
'em.
_Miss Hoyd_. O gemini! for half that she'd marry you
herself.--I'll run and call her. [_Exit.]
Fash_. So! matters go on swimmingly. This is a rare girl,
i'faith. I shall have a fine time on't with her at London.
_Enter_ LORY.
So, Lory, what's the matter?
_Lory_. Here, sir--an intercepted packet from the enemy;
your brother's postilion brought it. I knew the livery, pretended
to be a servant of Sir Tunbelly's, and so got possession of the
letter.
_Fash. [Looks at the letter_.] Ouns! he tells Sir Tunbelly
here that he will be with him this evening, with a large party to
supper.--Egad, I must marry the girl directly.
_Lory_. Oh, zounds, sir, directly to be sure. Here she
comes. [_Exit_.]
_Fash_. And the old Jezebel with her.
_Re-enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.
How do you do, good Mrs. Nurse? I desired your young lady would
give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your
extraordinary care and kind conduct in her education: pray accept
this small acknowledgment for it at present, and depend upon my
further kindness when I shall be that happy thing, her husband.
[_Gives her money._]
_Nurse_. [_Aside_.] Gold, by the maakins!--
[_Aloud_.] Your honour's goodness is too great. Alas! all I
can boast of is, I gave her pure and good milk, and so your
honour would have said, an you had seen how the poor thing
thrived, and how it would look up in my face, and crow and laugh,
it would.
_Miss Hoyd_. [_To_ NURSE, _taking her angrily
aside_.] Pray, one word with you. Pr'ythee, nurse, don't stand
ripping up old stories, to make one ashamed before one's love. Do
you think such a fine proper gentleman as he is cares for a
fiddlecome tale of a child? If you have a mind to make him have a
good opinion of a woman, don't tell him what one did then, tell
him what one can do now.--[_To_ Tom FASHION.] I hope your
honour will excuse my mis-manners to whisper before you. It was
only to give some orders about the family.
_Fash_. Oh, everything, madam, is to give way to business;
besides, good housewifery is a very commendable quality in a
young lady.
_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, sir, are young ladies good housewives at
London-town? Do they darn their own linen?
_Fash_. Oh no, they study how to spend money, not to save.
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, I don't know but that may be better
sport, eh, nurse?
_Fash_. Well, you have your choice, when you come there.
_Miss Hoyd_. Shall I? then, by my troth, I'll get there as
fast as I can.--[_To_ NURSE.] His honour desires you'll be
so kind as to let us be married to-morrow.
_Nurse_. To-morrow, my dear madam?
_Fash_. Ay, faith, nurse, you may well be surprised at
miss's wanting to put it off so long. To-morrow! no, no; 'tis
now, this very hour, I would have the ceremony performed.
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, with all my heart.
_Nurse_. O mercy! worse and worse!
_Fash._ Yes, sweet nurse, now and privately; for all things
being signed and sealed, why should Sir Tunbelly make us stay a
week for a wedding-dinner?
_Nurse._ But if you should be married now, what will you do
when Sir Tunbelly calls for you to be married?
_Miss Hoyd._ Why then we will be married again.
_Nurse._ What twice, my child?
_Miss Hoyd._ Ecod, I don't care how often I'm married, not
I.
_Nurse._ Well, I'm such a tender-hearted fool, I find I can
refuse you nothing. So you shall e'en follow your own inventions.
_Miss Hoyd._ Shall I? O Lord, I could leap over the moon!
_Fash._ Dear nurse, this goodness of yours shall be still
more rewarded. But now you must employ your power with the
chaplain, that he may do this friendly office too, and then we
shall be all happy. Do you think you can prevail with him?
_Nurse._ Prevail with him! or he shall never prevail with
me, I can tell him that.
_Fash._ I'm glad to hear it; however, to strengthen your
interest with him, you may let him know I have several fat
livings in my gift, and that the first that falls shall be in
your disposal.
_Nurse._ Nay, then, I'll make him marry more folks than one,
I'll promise him!
_Miss Hoyd._ Faith, do, nurse, make him marry you too; I'm
sure he'll do't for a fat living.
_Fash._ Well, nurse, while you go and settle matters with
him, your lady and I will go and take a walk in the garden.--
[_Exit_ NURSE.] Come, madam, dare you venture yourself alone
with me? [_Takes_ MISS HOYDEN _by the hand.]
Miss Hoyd._ Oh dear, yes, sir; I don't think you'll do
anythink to me, I need be afraid on. [_Exeunt._]
SCENE II.--AMANDA's _Dressing-room._
_Enter_ AMANDA _followed by her_ MAID.
_Maid._ If you please, madam, only to say whether you'll
have me buy them or not?
_Aman._ Yes--no--Go, teaser; I care not what you do.
Pr'ythee, leave me. [_Exit_ MAID.]
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber._ What, in the name of Jove, is the matter with you?
_Aman._ The matter, Berinthia! I'm almost mad; I'm plagued
to death.
_Ber._ Who is it that plagues you?
_Aman._ Who do you think should plague a wife but her
husband?
_Ber._ O, ho! is it come to that?--We shall have you wish
yourself a widow, by-and-by.
_Aman._ Would I were anything but what I am! A base,
ungrateful man, to use me thus!
_Ber._ What, has he given you fresh reason to suspect his
wandering?
_Aman._ Every hour gives me reason.
_Ber._ And yet, Amanda, you perhaps at this moment cause in
another's breast the same tormenting doubts and jealousies which
you feel so sensibly yourself.
_Aman._ Heaven knows I would not.
_Ber._ Why, you can't tell but there may be some one as
tenderly attached to Townly, whom you boast of as your conquest,
as you can be to your husband?
_Aman._ I'm sure, I never encouraged his pretensions.
_Ber._ Psha! psha! no sensible man ever perseveres to love
without encouragement. Why have you not treated him as you have
Lord Foppington?
_Aman._ Because he presumed not so far. But let us drop the
subject. Men, not women, are riddles. Mr. Loveless now follows
some flirt for variety, whom I'm sure he does not like so well as
he does me.
_Ber._ That's more than you know, madam.
_Aman._ Why, do you know the ugly thing?
_Ber._ I think I can guess at the person; but she's no such
ugly thing neither.
_Aman._ Is she very handsome?
_Ber._ Truly I think so.
_Aman._ Whate'er she be, I'm sure he does not like her well
enough to bestow anything more than a little outward gallantry
upon her.
_Ber._ [_Aside._] Outward gallantry! I can't bear
this.--
[_Aloud._] Come, come, don't you be too secure, Amanda:
while you suffer Townly to imagine that you do not detest him for
his designs on you, you have no right to complain that your
husband is engaged elsewhere. But here comes the person we were
speaking of.
_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Col. Town._ Ladies, as I come uninvited, I beg, if I
intrude, you will use the same freedom in turning me out again.
_Aman._ I believe it is near the time Loveless said he would
be at home. He talked of accepting Lord Foppington's invitation
to sup at Sir Tunbelly Clumsy's.
_Col. Town._ His lordship has done me the honour to invite
me also. If you'll let me escort you, I'll let you into a mystery
as we go, in which you must play a part when we arrive.
_Aman._ But we have two hours yet to spare; the carriages
are not ordered till eight, and it is not a five minutes' drive.
So, cousin, let us keep the colonel to play at piquet with us,
till Mr. Loveless comes home.
_Ber._ As you please, madam; but you know I have a letter to
write.
_Col. Town._ Madam, you know you may command me, though I am
a very wretched gamester.
_Aman._ Oh, you play well enough to lose your money, and
that's all the ladies require; and so, without any more ceremony,
let us go into the next room, and call for cards and candles.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE III.--BERINTHIA'S _Dressing-room._
_Enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love._ So, thus far all's well: I have got into her
dressing-room, and it being dusk, I think nobody has perceived me
steal into the house. I heard Berinthia tell my wife she had some
particular letters to write this evening, before she went to Sir
Tunbelly's, and here are the implements of correspondence.--How
shall I muster up assurance to show myself, when she comes? I
think she has given me encouragement; and, to do my impudence
justice, I have made the most of it.--I hear a door open, and
some one coming. If it should be my wife, what the devil should I
say? I believe she mistrusts me, and, by my life, I don't deserve
her tenderness. However, I am determined to reform, though not
yet. Ha! Berinthia!--So, I'll step in here, till I see what sort
of humour she is in. [_Goes into the closet_.]
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber_. Was ever so provoking a situation! To think I should
sit and hear him compliment Amanda to my face! I have lost all
patience with them both! I would not for something have Loveless
know what temper of mind they have piqued me into; yet I can't
bear to leave them together. No, I'll put my papers away, and
return, to disappoint them.--[_Goes to the closet_.]--O
Lord! a ghost! a ghost! a ghost!
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. Peace, my angel; it's no ghost, but one worth a
hundred spirits.
_Ber_. How, sir, have you had the insolence to presume to--
run in again; here's somebody coming. [LOVELESS _goes into the
closet_.]
_Enter_ MAID.
_Maid_. O Lord, ma'am, what's the matter?
_Ber_. O Heavens! I'm almost frightened out of my wits! I
thought verily I had seen a ghost, and 'twas nothing but a black
hood pinned against the wall. You may go again; I am the
fearfullest fool! [Exit MAID.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. Is the coast clear?
_Ber_. The coast clear! Upon my word, I wonder at your
assurance.
_Love_. Why, then, you wonder before I have given you a
proof of it. But where's my wife?
_Ber_. At cards.
_Love_. With whom?
_Ber_. With Townly.
_Love_. Then we are safe enough.
_Ber_. You are so! Some husbands would be of another mind,
were he at cards with their wives.
_Love_. And they'd be in the right on't, too; but I dare
trust mine.
_Ber_. Indeed! and she, I doubt not, has the same confidence
in you. Yet, do you think she'd be content to come and find you
here?
_Love_. Egad, as you say, that's true!--Then for fear she
should come, hadn't we better go into the next room, out of her
way?
_Ber_. What, in the dark?
_Love_. Ay, or with a light, which you please.
_Ber_. You are certainly very impudent.
_Love_. Nay, then--let me conduct you, my angel!
_Ber_. Hold, hold! you are mistaken in your angel, I assure
you.
_Love_. I hope not; for by this hand I swear--
_Ber_. Come, come, let go my hand, or I shall hate you!--
I'll cry out, as I live!
_Love_. Impossible! you cannot be so cruel.
_Ber_. Ha! here's some one coming. Begone instantly.
_Love_. Will you promise to return, if I remain here?
_Ber_. Never trust myself in a room again with you while I
live.
_Love_. But I have something particular to communicate to
you.
_Ber_. Well, well, before we go to Sir Tunbelly's, I'll walk
upon the lawn. If you are fond of a moonlight evening, you'll
find me there.
_Love_. I'faith, they're coming here now! I take you at your
word. [_Exit into the closet_.]
_Ber_. 'Tis Amanda, as I live! I hope she has not heard his
voice; though I mean she should have her share of jealousy in her
turn.
_Enter_ AMANDA.
_Aman_. Berinthia, why did you leave me?
_Ber_. I thought I only spoiled your party.
_Aman_. Since you have been gone, Townly has attempted
to renew his importunities. I must break with him, for I cannot
venture to acquaint Mr. Loveless with his conduct.
_Ber_. Oh, no! Mr. Loveless mustn't know of it by any means.
_Aman_. Oh, not for the world--I wish, Berinthia, you would
undertake to speak to Townly on the subject.
_Ber_. Upon my word, it would be a very pleasant subject for
me to talk upon! But, come, let us go back; and you may depend
on't I'll not leave you together again, if I can help it.
[_Exeunt_.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. So--so! a pretty piece of business I have overheard!
Townly makes love to my wife, and I am not to know it for all the
world. I must inquire into this--and, by Heaven, if I find that
Amanda has, in the smallest degree--yet what have I been at
here!--Oh, 'sdeath! that's no rule.
That wife alone unsullied credit wins,
Whose virtues can atone her husband's sins,
Thus, while the man has other nymphs in view,
It suits the woman to be doubly true.
[_Exit_.]
ACT V.
SCENE I.--_The Garden behind_ LOVELESS's _Lodgings_.
_Enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. Now, does she mean to make a fool of me, or not! I
shan't wait much longer, for my wife will soon be inquiring for
me to set out on our supping party. Suspense is at all times the
devil, but of all modes of suspense, the watching for a loitering
mistress is the worst.--But let me accuse her no longer; she
approaches with one smile to o'erpay the anxieties of a year.
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
O Berinthia, what a world of kindness are you in my debt! had you
stayed five minutes longer--
_Ber_. You would have gone, I suppose?
_Love_. Egad, she's right enough. [_Aside.]
Ber_. And I assure you 'twas ten to one that I came at all. In
short, I begin to think you are too dangerous a being to trifle
with; and as I shall probably only make a fool of you at last, I
believe we had better let matters rest as they are.
_Love_. You cannot mean it, sure?
_Ber_. What more would you have me give to a married man?
_Love_. How doubly cruel to remind me of my misfortunes!
_Ber_. A misfortune to be married to so charming a woman as
Amanda?
_Love_. I grant her all her merit, but--'sdeath! now see
what you have done by talking of her--she's here, by all that's
unlucky, and Townly with her.--I'll observe them.
_Ber_. O Gad, we had better get out of the way; for I should
feel as awkward to meet her as you.
_Love_. Ay, if I mistake not, I see Townly coming this way
also. I must see a little into this matter. [_Steps aside_.]
_Ber_. Oh, if that's your intention, I am no woman if I
suffer myself to be outdone in curiosity. [_Goes on the other
side_.]
_Enter_ AMANDA.
_Aman_. Mr. Loveless come home, and walking on the lawn! I
will not suffer him to walk so late, though perhaps it is to show
his neglect of me.--Mr. Loveless, I must speak with you.--Ha!
Townly again!--How I am persecuted!
_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Col. Town_. Madam, you seem disturbed.
_Aman_. Sir, I have reason.
_Col. Town_. Whatever be the cause, I would to Heaven it
were in my power to bear the pain, or to remove the malady.
_Aman_. Your interference can only add to my distress.
_Col. Town_. Ah, madam, if it be the sting of unrequited
love you suffer from, seek for your remedy in revenge: weigh well
the strength and beauty of your charms, and rouse up that spirit
a woman ought to bear. Disdain the false embraces of a husband.
See at your feet a real lover; his zeal may give him title to
your pity, although his merit cannot claim your love.
_Love_. So, so, very fine, i'faith! [_Aside_.]
_Aman_. Why do you presume to talk to me thus? Is this your
friendship to Mr. Loveless? I perceive you will compel me at last
to acquaint him with your treachery.
_Col. Town_. He could not upbraid me if you were.--He
deserves it from me; for he has not been more false to you than
faithless to me.
_Aman_. To you?
_Col. Town_. Yes, madam; the lady for whom he now deserts
those charms which he was never worthy of, was mine by right;
and, I imagine too, by inclination. Yes, madam, Berinthia, who
now--
_Aman_. Berinthia! Impossible!
_Col. Town_. 'Tis true, or may I never merit your attention.
She is the deceitful sorceress who now holds your husband's heart
in bondage.
_Aman_. I will not believe it.
_Col. Town_. By the faith of a true lover, I speak from
conviction. This very day I saw them together, and overheard--
_Aman_. Peace, sir! I will not even listen to such slander--
this is a poor device to work on my resentment, to listen to your
insidious addresses. No, sir; though Mr. Loveless may be capable
of error, I am convinced I cannot be deceived so grossly in him
as to believe what you now report; and for Berinthia, you should
have fixed on some more probable person for my rival than her who
is my relation and my friend: for while I am myself free from
guilt, I will never believe that love can beget injury, or
confidence create ingratitude.
_Col. Town_. If I do not prove to you--
_Aman._ You never shall have an opportunity. From the artful
manner in which you first showed yourself to me, I might have
been led, as far as virtue permitted, to have thought you less
criminal than unhappy; but this last unmanly artifice merits at
once my resentment and contempt. [_Exit_.]
_Col. Town_. Sure there's divinity about her; and she has
dispensed some portion of honour's light to me: yet can I bear to
lose Berinthia without revenge or compensation? Perhaps she is
not so culpable as I thought her. I was mistaken when I began to
think lightly of Amanda's virtue, and may be in my censure of my
Berinthia. Surely I love her still, for I feel I should be happy
to find myself in the wrong. [_Exit_.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS _and_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber_. Your servant, Mr. Loveless.
_Love_. Your servant, madam.
_Ber_. Pray what do you think of this?
_Love_. Truly, I don't know what to say.
_Ber_. Don't you think we steal forth two contemptible
creatures?
_Love_. Why, tolerably so, I must confess.
_Ber_. And do you conceive it possible for you ever to give
Amanda the least uneasiness again?
_Love_. No, I think we never should indeed.
_Ber_. We! why, monster, you don't pretend that I ever
entertained a thought?
_Love_. Why then, sincerely and honestly, Berinthia, there
is something in my wife's conduct which strikes me so forcibly,
that if it were not for shame, and the fear of hurting you in her
opinion, I swear I would follow her, confess my error, and trust
to her generosity for forgiveness.
_Ber_. Nay, pr'ythee, don't let your respect for me prevent
you; for as my object in trifling with you was nothing more than
to pique Townly, and as I perceive he has been actuated by a
similar motive, you may depend on't I shall make no mystery of
the matter to him.
_Love_. By no means inform him: for though I may choose to
pass by his conduct without resentment, how will he presume to
look me in the face again?
_Ber_. How will you presume to look him in the face again?
_Love_. He, who has dared to attempt the honour of my wife!
_Ber_. You who have dared to attempt the honour of his
mistress! Come, come, be ruled by me, who affect more levity than
I have, and don't think of anger in this cause. A readiness to
resent injuries is a virtue only in those who are slow to injure.
_Love_. Then I will be ruled by you; and when you think
proper to undeceive Townly, may your good qualities make as
sincere a convert of him as Amanda's have of me.-When truth's
extorted from us, then we own the robe of virtue is a sacred
habit.
Could women but our secret counsel scan--
Could they but reach the deep reserve of man--
To keep our love they'd rate their virtue high,
They live together, and together die.
[_Exeunt_.]
SCENE II.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House.
Enter_ MISS HOYDEN, NURSE, _and_ TOM FASHION.
_Fash_. This quick despatch of the chaplain's I take so
kindly it shall give him claim to my favour as long as I live, I
assure you.
_Miss Hoyd_. And to mine too, I promise you.
_Nurse_. I most humbly thank your honours; and may your
children swarm about you like bees about a honeycomb!
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, with all my heart--the more the merrier,
I say--ha, nurse?
_Enter_ LORY.
_Lory_. One word with you, for Heaven's sake. [_Taking_
TOM FASHION _hastily aside_.]
_Fash_. What the devil's the matter?
_Lory_. Sir, your fortune's ruined if you are not married.
Yonder's your brother arrived, with two coaches and six horses,
twenty footmen, and a coat worth fourscore pounds--so judge what
will become of your lady's heart.
_Fash_. Is he in the house yet?
_Lory_. No, they are capitulating with him at the gate. Sir
Tunbelly luckily takes him for an impostor; and I have told him
that we have heard of this plot before.
_Fash_. That's right.--[_Turning to_ MISS HOYDEN.] My
dear, here's a troublesome business my man tells me of, but don't
be frightened; we shall be too hard for the rogue. Here's an
impudent fellow at the gate (not knowing I was come hither
incognito) has taken my name upon him, in hopes to run away with
you.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, the brazen-faced varlet! it's well we are
married, or maybe we might never have been so.
_Fash. [Aside_.] Egad, like enough.--[_Aloud_.]
Pr'ythee, nurse, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to
the gate before I speak to him.
_Nurse_. An't please your honour, my lady and I had
better, lock ourselves up till the danger be over.
_Fash_. Do so, if you please.
_Miss Hoyd_. Not so fast; I won't be locked up any more, now
I'm married.
_Fash_. Yes, pray, my dear, do, till we have seized this
rascal.
_Miss Hoyd_. Nay, if you'll pray me, I'll do anything.
[_Exit with_ NURSE.]
_Fash_. Hark you, sirrah, things are better than you
imagine. The wedding's over.
_Lory_. The devil it is, sir! [_Capers about_.]
_Fash_. Not a word--all's safe--but Sir Tunbelly don't know
it, nor must not yet. So I am resolved to brazen the brunt of the
business out, and have the pleasure of turning the impostor upon
his lordship, which I believe may easily be done.
_Enter_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Did you ever hear, sir, of so impudent an undertaking?
_Sir Tun_. Never, by the mass; but we'll tickle him, I'll
warrant you.
_Fash_. They tell me, sir, he has a great many people with
him, disguised like servants.
_Sir Tun_. Ay, ay, rogues enow, but we have mastered them.
We only fired a few shot over their heads, and the regiment
scoured in an instant.--Here, Tummus, bring in your prisoner.
_Fash_. If you please, Sir Tunbelly, it will be best for me
not to confront this fellow yet, till you have heard how far his
impudence will carry him.
_Sir Tun_. Egad, your lordship is an ingenious person. Your
lordship, then, will please to step aside.
_Lory_. [_Aside_.] 'Fore heavens, I applaud my master's
modesty! [_Exit with_ TOM FASHION.]
_Enter_ SERVANTS, _with_ LORD FOPPINGTON
_disarmed_.
_Sir Tun_. Come, bring him along, bring him along.
_Lord Fop_. What the plague do you mean, gentlemen? is it
fair time, that you are all drunk before supper?
_Sir Tun_. Drunk, sirrah! here's an impudent rogue for you
now. Drunk or sober, bully, I'm a justice o' the peace, and know
how to deal with strollers.
_Lord Fop_. Strollers!
_Sir Tun_. Ay, strollers. Come, give an account of yourself.
What's your name? where do you live? do you pay scot and lot?
Come, are you a freeholder or a copyholder?
_Lord Fop_. And why dost thou ask me so many impertinent
questions?
_Sir Tun_. Because I'll make you answer 'em, before I have
done with you, you rascal, you!
_Lord Fop_. Before Gad, all the answer I can make to them
is, that you are a very extraordinary old fellow, stap my vitals.
_Sir Tun_. Nay, if thou art joking deputy-lieutenants, we
know how to deal with you.--Here, draw a warrant for him
immediately.
_Lord Fop_. A warrant! What the devil is't thou wouldst be
at, old gentleman?
_Sir Tun_. I would be at you, sirrah, (if my hands were not
tied as a magistrate,) and with these two double fists beat your
teeth down your throat, you dog, you! [_Driving him_.]
_Lord Fop_. And why wouldst thou spoil my face at that rate?
_Sir Tun_. For your design to rob me of my daughter,
villain.
_Lord Fop_. Rob thee of thy daughter! Now do I begin to
believe I am in bed and asleep, and that all this is but a dream.
Pr'ythee, old father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one
question?
_Sir Tun_. I can't tell whether I will or not, till I know
what it is.
_Lord Fop_. Why, then, it is, whether thou didst not write
to my Lord Foppington, to come down and marry thy daughter?
_Sir Tun._ Yes, marry, did I, and my Lord Foppington is come
down, and shall marry my daughter before she's a day older.
_Lord Fop._ Now give me thy hand, old dad; I thought we
should understand one another at last.
_Sir Tun._ The fellow's mad!--Here, bind him hand and foot.
[_They bind him._]
_Lord Fop._ Nay, pr'ythee, knight, leave fooling; thy jest
begins to grow dull.
_Sir Tun._ Bind him, I say--he's mad: bread and water, a
dark room, and a whip, may bring him to his senses again.
_Lord Fop._ Pr'ythee, Sir Tunbelly, why should you take such
an aversion to the freedom of my address as to suffer the rascals
thus to skewer down my arms like a rabbit?--[_Aside._] Egad,
if I don't awake, by all that I can see, this is like to prove
one of the most impertinent dreams that ever I dreamt in my life.
_Re-enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.
_Miss Hoyd._ [_Going up to_ LORD FOPPINGTON.] Is this
he that would have run--Fough, how he stinks of sweets!--Pray,
father, let him be dragged through the horse-pond.
_Lord Fop._ This must be my wife, by her natural inclination
to her husband. [_Aside._]
_Miss Hoyd._ Pray, father, what do you intend to do with
him--hang him?
_Sir Tun._ That, at least, child.
_Nurse._ Ay, and it's e'en too good for him too.
_Lord Fop._ Madame la gouvernante, I presume: hitherto this
appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary families that
ever man of quality matched into. [_Aside._]
_Sir Tun._ What's become of my lord, daughter?
_Miss Hoyd._ He's just coming, sir.
_Lord Fop._ My lord! what does he mean by that, now?
[_Aside._]
_Re-enter_ TOM FASHION _and_ LORY.
Stap my vitals, Tam, now the dream's out! [_Runs._]
_Fash._ Is this the fellow, sir, that designed to trick me
of your daughter?
_Sir Tun_. This is he, my lord. How do you like him? Is not
he a pretty fellow to get a fortune?
_Fash_. I find by his dress he thought your daughter might
be taken with a beau.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, gemini! is this a beau? let me see him
again. [_Surveys him_.] Ha! I find a beau is no such ugly
thing, neither.
_Fash. [Aside_.] Egad, she'll be in love with him presently
--I'll e'en have him sent away to jail.--[_To_ LORD
FOPPINGTON.] Sir, though your undertaking shows you a person of
no extraordinary modesty, I suppose you ha'n't confidence enough
to expect much favour from me?
_Lord Fop_. Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent
fellow.
_Nurse_. Look, if the varlet has not the effrontery to call
his lordship plain Thomas!
_Lord Fop_. My Lord Foppington, shall I beg one word with
your lordship?
_Nurse_. Ho, ho! it's my lord with him now! See how
afflictions will humble folks.
_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, my lord--[_To_ FASHION]--don't let
him whisper too close, lest he bite your ear off.
_Lord Fop_. I am not altogether so hungry as your ladyship
is pleased to imagine.--[_Aside to_ TOM FASHION.] Look you,
Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to you as I ought, but
I hope you'll forgive what's past, and accept of the five
thousand pounds I offer--thou mayst live in extreme splendour
with it, stap my vitals!
_Fash_. It's a much easier matter to prevent a disease than
to cure it. A quarter of that sum would have secured your
mistress, twice as much cannot redeem her. [_Aside to_ LORD
FOPPINGTON.]
_Sir Tun_. Well, what says he?
_Fash_. Only the rascal offered me a bribe to let him go.
_Sir Tun_. Ay, he shall go, with a plague to him!--lead on,
constable.
_Enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser_. Sir, here is Muster Loveless, and Muster Colonel
Townly, and some ladies to wait on you. [_To_ TOM FASHION.]
_Lory. [Aside to_ TOM FASHION.] So, sir, what will you do
now?
_Fash_. [_Aside to_ LORY.] Be quiet; they are in the
plot.--[_Aloud_.] Only a few friends, Sir Tunbelly, whom I
wish to introduce to you.
_Lord Fop_. Thou art the most impudent fellow, Tam, that
ever nature yet brought into the world.--Sir Tunbelly, strike me
speechless, but these are my friends and acquaintance, and my
guests, and they will soon inform thee whether I am the true Lord
Foppington or not.
_Enter_ LOVELESS, COLONEL TOWNLY, AMANDA, _and_
BERINTHIA.--LORD FOPPINGTON _accosts them as they pass, but
none answer him.
Fash_. So, gentlemen, this is friendly; I rejoice to see you.
_Col. Town_. My lord, we are fortunate to be the witnesses
of your lordship's happiness.
_Love_. But your lordship will do us the honour to introduce
us to Sir Tunbelly Clumsy?
_Aman_. And us to your lady.
_Lord Fop_. Gad take me, but they are all in a story!
[_Aside_.]
_Sir Tun_. Gentlemen, you do me much honour; my Lord
Foppington's friends will ever be welcome to me and mine.
_Fash_. My love, let me introduce you to these ladies.
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, they look so fine and so stiff, I am
almost ashamed to come nigh 'em.
_Aman_. A most engaging lady indeed!
_Miss Hoyd_. Thank ye, ma'am.
_Ber_. And I doubt not will soon distinguish herself in the
beau monde.
_Miss Hoyd_. Where is that?
_Fash_. You'll soon learn, my dear.
_Love_. But Lord Foppington--
_Lord Fop_. Sir!
_Love_. Sir! I was not addressing myself to you, sir!--Pray
who is this gentleman? He seems rather in a singular predicament--
_Col. Town_. For so well-dressed a person, a little oddly
circumstanced, indeed.
_Sir Tun_. Ha! ha! ha!--So, these are your friends and your
guests, ha, my adventurer?
_Lord Fop_. I am struck dumb with their impudence, and
cannot positively say whether I shall ever speak again or not.
_Sir Tun._ Why, sir, this modest gentleman wanted to pass
himself upon me as Lord Foppington, and carry off my daughter.
_Love._ A likely plot to succeed, truly, ha! ha!
_Lord Fop._ As Gad shall judge me, Loveless, I did not expect
this from thee. Come, pr'ythee confess the joke; tell Sir
Tunbelly that I am the real Lord Foppington, who yesterday made
love to thy wife; was honoured by her with a slap on the face,
and afterwards pinked through the body by thee.
_Sir Tun._ A likely story, truly, that a peer would behave
thus.
_Love._ A pretty fellow, indeed, that would scandalize the
character he wants to assume; but what will you do with him, Sir
Tunbelly?
_Sir Tun._ Commit him, certainly, unless the bride and
bridegroom choose to pardon him.
_Lord Fop._ Bride and bridegroom! For Gad's sake, Sir
Tunbelly, 'tis tarture to me to hear you call 'em so.
_Miss Hoyd._ Why, you ugly thing, what would you have him
call us--dog and cat?
_Lord Fop._ By no means, miss; for that sounds ten times
more like man and wife than t'other.
_Sir Tun._ A precious rogue this to come a-wooing!
_Re-enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser._ There are some gentlefolks below to wait upon Lord
Foppington. [_Exit._]
_Col. Town._ 'Sdeath, Tom, what will you do now? [_Aside
to_ TOM FASHION.]
_Lord Fop._ Now, Sir Tunbelly, here are witnesses who I
believe are not corrupted.
_Sir Tun._ Peace, fellow!--Would your lordship choose to have
your guests shown here, or shall they wait till we come to 'em?
_Fash._ I believe, Sir Tunbelly, we had better not have these
visitors here yet.--[_Aside_.] Egad, all must out.
_Love._ Confess, confess; we'll stand by you. [_Aside
to_ TOM FASHION.]
_Lord Fop._ Nay, Sir Tunbelly, I insist on your calling
evidence on both sides--and if I do not prove that fellow an
impostor--
_Fash_. Brother, I will save you the trouble, by now
confessing that I am not what I have passed myself for.--Sir
Tunbelly, I am a gentleman, and I flatter myself a man of
character; but'tis with great pride I assure you I am not Lord
Foppington.
_Sir Tun_. Ouns!--what's this?--an impostor?--a cheat?--fire
and faggots, sir, if you are not Lord Foppington, who the
devil are you?
_Fash_. Sir, the best of my condition is, I am your son-in-law;
and the worst of it is, I am brother to that noble peer.
_Lord Fop_. Impudent to the last, Gad dem me!
_Sir Tun_. My son-in-law! not yet, I hope.
_Fash_. Pardon me, sir; thanks to the goodness of your
chaplain, and the kind offices of this gentlewoman.
_Lory_. 'Tis true indeed, sir; I gave your daughter away,
and Mrs. Nurse, here, was clerk.
_Sir Tun_. Knock that rascal down!--But speak, Jezebel, how's
this?
_Nurse_. Alas! your honour, forgive me; I have been
overreached in this business as well as you. Your worship knows,
if the wedding-dinner had been ready, you would have given her
away with your own hands.
_Sir Tun_. But how durst you do this without acquainting me?
_Nurse_. Alas! if your worship had seen how the poor thing
begged and prayed, and clung and twined about me like ivy round
an old wall, you would say, I who had nursed it, and reared it,
must have had a heart like stone to refuse it.
_Sir Tun_. Ouns! I shall go mad! Unloose my lord there, you
scoundrels!
_Lord Fop_. Why, when these gentlemen are at leisure, I
should be glad to congratulate you on your son-in-law, with a
little more freedom of address.
_Miss Hoyd_. Egad, though, I don't see which is to be my
husband after all.
_Love_. Come, come, Sir Tunbelly, a man of your
understanding must perceive that an affair of this kind is not to
be mended by anger and reproaches.
_Col. Town_. Take my word for it, Sir Tunbelly, you are only
tricked into a son-in-law you may be proud of: my friend Tom
Fashion is as honest a fellow as ever breathed.
_Love_. That he is, depend on't; and will hunt or drink with
you most affectionately: be generous, old boy, and forgive them--
_Sir Tun_. Never! the hussy!--when I had set my heart on
getting her a title.
_Lord Fop_. Now, Sir Tunbelly, that I am untrussed--give me
leave to thank thee for the very extraordinary reception I have
met with in thy damned, execrable mansion; and at the same time
to assure you, that of all the bumpkins and blockheads I have had
the misfortune to meek with, thou art the most obstinate and
egregious, strike me ugly!
_Sir Tun_. What's this! I believe you are both rogues alike.
_Lord Fop_. No, Sir Tunbelly, thou wilt find to thy
unspeakable mortification, that I am the real Lord Foppington,
who was to have disgraced myself by an alliance with a clod; and
that thou hast matched thy girl to a beggarly younger brother of
mine, whose title deeds might be contained in thy tobacco-box.
_Sir Tun_. Puppy! puppy!--I might prevent their being
beggars, if I chose it; for I could give 'em as good a rent-roll
as your lordship.
_Lord Fop_. Ay, old fellow, but you will not do that--for
that would be acting like a Christian, and thou art a barbarian,
stap my vitals.
_Sir Tun_. Udzookers! now six such words more, and I'll
forgive them directly.
_Love_. 'Slife, Sir Tunbelly, you should do it, and bless
yourself--Ladies, what say you?
_Aman_. Good Sir Tunbelly, you must consent.
_Ber_. Come, you have been young yourself, Sir Tunbelly.
_Sir Tun_. Well then, if I must, I must; but turn--turn that
sneering lord out, however, and let me be revenged on somebody.
But first look whether I am a barbarian or not; there, children,
I join your hands; and when I'm in a better humour, I'll give you
my blessing.
_Love_. Nobly done, Sir Tunbelly! and we shall see you dance
at a grandson's christening yet.
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, though, I don't understand this!
What! an't I to be a lady after all? only plain Mrs.--What's my
husband's name, nurse?
_Nurse_. Squire Fashion.
_Miss Hoyd_. Squire, is he?--Well, that's better than
nothing.
_Lord Fop. [Aside_.] Now I will put on a philosophic air,
and show these people, that it is not possible to put a man of my
quality out of countenance.--[_Aloud_.] Dear Tam, since
things are fallen out, pr'ythee give me leave to wish thee joy; I
do it _de bon coeur_, strike me dumb! You have married into
a family of great politeness and uncommon elegance of manners,
and your bride appears to be a lady beautiful in person, modest
in her deportment, refined in her sentiments, and of nice
morality, split my windpipe!
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, husband, break his bones if he calls
me names!
_Fash_. Your lordship may keep up your spirits with your
grimace, if you please; I shall support mine, by Sir Tunbelly's
favour, with this lady and three thousand pounds a year.
_Lord Fop_. Well, adieu, Tam!--Ladies, I kiss your, hands!--
Sir Tunbelly, I shall now quit this thy den; but while I retain
the use of my arms, I shall ever remember thou art a demned
horrid savage; Ged demn me! [_Exit_.]
_Sir Tun_. By the mass, 'tis well he's gone--for I should
ha' been provoked, by-and-by, to ha' dun un a mischief. Well, if
this is a lord, I think Hoyden has luck on her side, in troth.
_Col. Town_. She has, indeed, Sir Tunbelly.--But I hear the
fiddles; his lordship, I know, has provided 'em.
_Love_. Oh, a dance and a bottle, Sir Tunbelly, by all
means!
_Sir Tun_. I had forgot the company below; well--what--we
must be merry, then, ha? and dance and drink, ha? Well, 'fore
George, you shan't say I do these things by halves. Son-in-law
there looks like a hearty rogue, so we'll have a night on't: and
which of these ladies will be the old man's partner, ha?--Ecod, I
don't know how I came to be in so good a humour.
_Ber_. Well, Sir Tunbelly, my friend and I both will
endeavour to keep you so: you have done a generous action, and
are entitled to our attention. If you should be at a loss to
divert your new guests, we will assist you to relate to them the
plot of your daughter's marriage, and his lordship's deserved
mortification; a subject which perhaps may afford no bad
evening's entertainment.
_Sir Tun_. Ecod, with all my heart; though I am a main
bungler at a long story.
_Ber_. Never fear; we will assist you, if the tale is judged
worth being repeated; but of this you may be assured, that while
the intention is evidently to please, British auditors will ever
be indulgent to the errors of the performance. [Exeunt omnes.]
THE CRITIC;
OR, A TRAGEDY REHEARSED _A DRAMATIC PIECE IN THREE ACTS_ TO
MRS. GREVILLE
_MADAM_,--In requesting your permission to address the
following pages to you, which, as they aim themselves to be
critical, require every protection and allowance that approving
taste or friendly prejudice can give them, I yet ventured to
mention no other motive than the gratification of private
friendship and esteem. Had I suggested a hope that your implied
approbation would give a sanction to their defects, your
particular reserve, and dislike to the reputation of critical
taste, as well as of poetical talent, would have made you refuse
the protection of your name to such a purpose. However, I am not
so ungrateful as now to attempt to combat this disposition in
you. I shall not here presume to argue that the present state of
poetry claims and expects every assistance that taste and example
can afford it; nor endeavour to prove that a fastidious
concealment of the most elegant productions of judgment and fancy
is an ill return for the possession of those endowments. Continue
to deceive yourself in the idea that you are known only to be
eminently admired and regarded for the valuable qualities that
attach private friendships, and the graceful talents that adorn
conversation. Enough of what you have written has stolen into
full public notice to answer my purpose; and you will, perhaps,
be the only person, conversant in elegant literature, who shall
read this address and not perceive that by publishing your
particular approbation of the following drama, I have a more
interested object than to boast the true respect and regard with
which I have the honour to be, Madam, your very sincere and
obedient humble servant, R. B. SHERIDAN.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
AS ORIGINALLY ACTED AT DRURY LANE THEATRE IN 1779
SIR FRETFUL PLAGIARY. _Mr. Parsons_.
PUFF. _Mr. King_.
DANGLE. _Mr. Dodd_
SNEER. _Mr. Palmer_.
SIGNOR PASTICCIO RITORNELLO. _Mr. Delpini_.
INTERPRETER. _Mr. Baddeley_.
UNDER PROMPTER. _Mr. Phillimore_.
MR. HOPKINS. _Mr. Hopkins_.
MRS. DANGLE. _Mrs. Hopkins_.
SIGNORE PASTICCIO RITORNELLO. _Miss Field and the Miss
Abrams_.
Scenemen, Musicians, _and_ Servants.
CHARACTERS OF THE TRAGEDY
LORD BURLEIGH. _Mr. Moody_.
GOVERNOR OF TILBURY FORT. _Mr. Wrighten_.
EARL OF LEICESTER. _Mr. Farren_.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH. _Mr. Burton_.
SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. _Mr. Waldron_.
MASTER OF THE HORSE. _Mr. Kenny_.
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS. _Mr. Bannister, jun_.
BEEFEATER. _Mr. Wright_.
JUSTICE. _Mr. Packer_.
SON. _Mr. Lamash_.
CONSTABLE. _Mr. Fawcett_.
THAMES. _Mr. Gawdry_.
TILBURINA. _Miss Pope_.
CONFIDANT. _Mrs. Bradshaw_.
JUSTICE's LADY. _Mrs. Johnston_.
FIRST NIECE. _Miss Collett_.
SECOND NIECE. _Miss Kirby_.
Knights, Guards, Constables, Sentinels, Servants, Chorus, Rivers,
Attendants, &c., &c.
SCENE--LONDON: _in_ DANGLES _House during the First Act,
and throughout the rest of the Play in_ DRURY LANE THEATRE.
PROLOGUE
BY THE HONOURABLE RICHARD FITZPATRICK
THE sister Muses, whom these realms obey,
Who o'er the drama hold divided sway,
Sometimes by evil counsellors, 'tis said,
Like earth-born potentates have been misled.
In those gay days of wickedness and wit,
When Villiers criticised what Dryden writ,
The tragic queen, to please a tasteless crowd,
Had learn'd to bellow, rant, and roar so loud,
That frighten'd Nature, her best friend before,
The blustering beldam's company foreswore;
Her comic sister, who had wit 'tis true,
With all her merits, had her failings too:
And would sometimes in mirthful moments use
A style too flippant for a well-bred muse;
Then female modesty abash'd began
To seek the friendly refuge of the fan,
Awhile behind that slight intrenchment stood,
Till driven from thence, she left the stage for good.
In our more pious, and far chaster times,
These sure no longer are the Muse's crimes!
But some complain that, former faults to shun,
The reformation to extremes has run.
The frantic hero's wild delirium past,
Now insipidity succeeds bombast:
So slow Melpomene's cold numbers creep,
Here dulness seems her drowsy court to keep,
And we are scarce awake, whilst you are fast asleep.
Thalia, once so ill-behaved and rude,
Reform'd, is now become an arrant prude;
Retailing nightly to the yawning pit
The purest morals, undefiled by wit!
Our author offers, in these motley scenes,
A slight remonstrance to the drama's queens:
Nor let the goddesses be over nice;
Free-spoken subjects give the best advice.
Although not quite a novice in his trade,
His cause to-night requires no common aid.
To this, a friendly, just, and powerful court,
I come ambassador to beg support.
Can he undaunted brave the critic's rage?
In civil broils with brother bards engage?
Hold forth their errors to the public eye,
Nay more, e'en newspapers themselves defy?
Say, must his single arm encounter all?
By number vanquish'd, e'en the brave may fall;
And though no leader should success distrust,
Whose troops are willing, and whose cause is just;
To bid such hosts of angry foes defiance,
His chief dependence must be, your alliance.
ACT I.