Produced by Gary R. Young
THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL
A COMEDY
A PORTRAIT<1>
BY R. B. SHERIDAN, ESQ.
Transcriber's Comments on the preparation of this E-Text:
SQUARE BRACKETS:
The square brackets, i.e. [ ] are copied from the printed book, without
change, except that a closing bracket "]" has been added to the stage
directions.
FOOTNOTES:
For this E-Text version of the book, the footnotes have been
consolidated at the end of the play.
Numbering of the footnotes has been changed, and each footnote is given
a unique identity in the form <X>.
CHANGES TO THE TEXT:
Character names have been expanded. For Example, SIR BENJAMIN was SIR
BEN.
THE TEXT OF THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL
The text of THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL in this edition is taken, by Mr.
Fraser Rae's generous permission, from his SHERIDAN'S PLAYS NOW PRINTED
AS HE WROTE THEM. In his Prefatory Notes (xxxvii), Mr. Rae writes: "The
manuscript of it [THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL] in Sheridan's own handwriting
is preserved at Frampton Court and is now printed in this volume. This
version differs in many respects from that which is generally known,
and I think it is even better than that which has hitherto been read and
acted. As I have endeavoured to reproduce the works of Sheridan as he
wrote them, I may be told that he was a bad hand at punctuating and very
bad at spelling. . . . But Sheridan's shortcomings as a speller have
been exaggerated." Lest "Sheridan's shortcomings" either in spelling
or in punctuation should obscure the text, I have, in this edition,
inserted in brackets some explanatory suggestions. It has seemed best,
also, to adopt a uniform method for indicating stage-directions and
abbreviations of the names of characters. There can be no gain to the
reader in reproducing, for example, Sheridan's different indications for
the part of Lady Sneerwell--LADY SNEERWELL, LADY SNEER., LADY SN., and
LADY S.--or his varying use of EXIT and EX., or his inconsistencies in
the use of italics in the stage-directions. Since, however, Sheridan's
biographers, from Moore to Fraser Rae, have shown that no authorised or
correct edition of THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL was published in Sheridan's
lifetime, there seems unusual justification for reproducing the text of
the play itself with absolute fidelity to the original manuscript. Mr.
Ridgway, who repeatedly sought to obtain a copy corrected by the author,
according to Moore's account (LIFE OF SHERIDAN, I. p. 260), "was told
by Mr. Sheridan, as an excuse for keeping it back, that he had been
nineteen years endeavouring to satisfy himself with the style of The
School for Scandal, but had not yet succeeded." Mr. Rae (SHERIDAN, I. p.
332) recorded his discovery of the manuscript of "two acts of The School
for Scandal prepared by Sheridan for publication," and hoped, before his
death, to publish this partial revision. Numberless unauthorized changes
in the play have been made for histrionic purposes, from the first
undated Dublin edition to that of Mr. Augustin Daly. Current texts may
usually be traced, directly or indirectly, to the two-volume Murray
edition of Sheridan's plays, in 1821. Some of the changes from the
original manuscript, such as the blending of the parts of Miss Verjuice
and Snake, are doubtless effective for reasons of dramatic economy, but
many of the "cuts" are to be regretted from the reader's standpoint. The
student of English drama will prefer Sheridan's own text to editorial
emendations, however clever or effective for dramatic ends.
THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL
ADDRESSED TO MRS. CREWE,
WITH THE COMEDY OF THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL
Tell me, ye prim adepts in Scandal's school,
Who rail by precept, and detract by rule,
Lives there no character, so tried, so known,
So deck'd with grace, and so unlike your own,
That even you assist her fame to raise,
Approve by envy, and by silence praise!--
Attend!--a model shall attract your view--
Daughters of calumny, I summon you!
You shall decide if this a portrait prove,
Or fond creation of the Muse and Love.--
Attend, ye virgin critics, shrewd and sage,
Ye matron censors of this childish age,
Whose peering eye and wrinkled front declare
A fixt antipathy to young and fair;
By cunning, cautious; or by nature, cold,
In maiden madness, virulently bold!--
Attend! ye skilled to coin the precious tale,
Creating proof, where innuendos fail!
Whose practised memories, cruelly exact,
Omit no circumstance, except the fact!--
Attend, all ye who boast,--or old or young,--
The living libel of a slanderous tongue!
So shall my theme as far contrasted be,
As saints by fiends, or hymns by calumny.
Come, gentle Amoret (for 'neath that name,
In worthier verse is sung thy beauty's fame);
Come--for but thee who seeks the Muse? and while
Celestial blushes check thy conscious smile,
With timid grace, and hesitating eye,
The perfect model, which I boast, supply:--
Vain Muse! couldst thou the humblest sketch create
Of her, or slightest charm couldst imitate--
Could thy blest strain in kindred colours trace
The faintest wonder of her form and face--
Poets would study the immortal line,
And REYNOLDS own HIS art subdued by thine;
That art, which well might added lustre give
To Nature's best and Heaven's superlative:
On GRANBY'S cheek might bid new glories rise,
Or point a purer beam from DEVON'S eyes!
Hard is the task to shape that beauty's praise,
Whose judgment scorns the homage flattery pays!
But praising Amoret we cannot err,
No tongue o'ervalues Heaven, or flatters her!
Yet she, by Fate's perverseness--she alone
Would doubt our truth, nor deem such praise her own!
Adorning Fashion, unadorn'd by dress,
Simple from taste, and not from carelessness;
Discreet in gesture, in deportment mild,
Not stiff with prudence, nor uncouthly wild:
No state has AMORET! no studied mien;
She frowns no GODDESS, and she moves no QUEEN.
The softer charm that in her manner lies
Is framed to captivate, yet not surprise;
It justly suits th' expression of her face,--
'Tis less than dignity, and more than grace!
On her pure cheek the native hue is such,
That, form'd by Heav'n to be admired so much,
The hand divine, with a less partial care,
Might well have fix'd a fainter crimson there,
And bade the gentle inmate of her breast,--
Inshrined Modesty!--supply the rest.
But who the peril of her lips shall paint?
Strip them of smiles--still, still all words are faint!
But moving Love himself appears to teach
Their action, though denied to rule her speech;
And thou who seest her speak and dost not hear,
Mourn not her distant accents 'scape thine ear;
Viewing those lips, thou still may'st make pretence
To judge of what she says, and swear 'tis sense:
Cloth'd with such grace, with such expression fraught,
They move in meaning, and they pause in thought!
But dost thou farther watch, with charm'd surprise,
The mild irresolution of her eyes,
Curious to mark how frequent they repose,
In brief eclipse and momentary close--
Ah! seest thou not an ambush'd Cupid there,
Too tim'rous of his charge, with jealous care
Veils and unveils those beams of heav'nly light,
Too full, too fatal else, for mortal sight?
Nor yet, such pleasing vengeance fond to meet,
In pard'ning dimples hope a safe retreat.
What though her peaceful breast should ne'er allow
Subduing frowns to arm her altered brow,
By Love, I swear, and by his gentle wiles,
More fatal still the mercy of her smiles!
Thus lovely, thus adorn'd, possessing all
Of bright or fair that can to woman fall,
The height of vanity might well be thought
Prerogative in her, and Nature's fault.
Yet gentle AMORET, in mind supreme
As well as charms, rejects the vainer theme;
And, half mistrustful of her beauty's store,
She barbs with wit those darts too keen before:--
Read in all knowledge that her sex should reach,
Though GREVILLE, or the MUSE, should deign to teach,
Fond to improve, nor tim'rous to discern
How far it is a woman's grace to learn;
In MILLAR'S dialect she would not prove
Apollo's priestess, but Apollo's love,
Graced by those signs which truth delights to own,
The timid blush, and mild submitted tone:
Whate'er she says, though sense appear throughout,
Displays the tender hue of female doubt;
Deck'd with that charm, how lovely wit appears,
How graceful SCIENCE, when that robe she wears!
Such too her talents, and her bent of mind,
As speak a sprightly heart by thought refined:
A taste for mirth, by contemplation school'd,
A turn for ridicule, by candour ruled,
A scorn of folly, which she tries to hide;
An awe of talent, which she owns with pride!
Peace, idle Muse! no more thy strain prolong,
But yield a theme thy warmest praises wrong;
Just to her merit, though thou canst not raise
Thy feeble verse, behold th' acknowledged praise
Has spread conviction through the envious train,
And cast a fatal gloom o'er Scandal's reign!
And lo! each pallid hag, with blister'd tongue,
Mutters assent to all thy zeal has sung--
Owns all the colours just--the outline true;
Thee my inspirer, and my MODEL--CREWE!
DRAMATIS PERSONAE<2>
SIR PETER TEAZLE Mr. King
SIR OLIVER SURFACE Mr. Yates
YOUNG SURFACE Mr. Palmer
CHARLES (his Brother) Mr. Smith
CRABTREE Mr. Parsons
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE Mr. Dodd
ROWLEY Mr. Aikin
SPUNGE
MOSES
SNAKE
CARELESS--and other companions to CHARLES
LADY TEAZLE
MARIA
LADY SNEERWELL
MRS. CANDOUR
MISS VERJUICE
PROLOGUE WRITTEN BY MR. GARRICK
A school for Scandal! tell me, I beseech you,
Needs there a school this modish art to teach you?
No need of lessons now, the knowing think;
We might as well be taught to eat and drink.
Caused by a dearth of scandal, should the vapours
Distress our fair ones--let them read the papers;
Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit;
Crave what you will--there's quantum sufficit.
"Lord!" cries my Lady Wormwood (who loves tattle,
And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle),
Just risen at noon, all night at cards when threshing
Strong tea and scandal--"Bless me, how refreshing!
Give me the papers, Lisp--how bold and free! [Sips.]
LAST NIGHT LORD L. [Sips] WAS CAUGHT WITH LADY D.
For aching heads what charming sal volatile! [Sips.]
IF MRS. B. WILL STILL CONTINUE FLIRTING,
WE HOPE SHE'LL draw, OR WE'LL undraw THE CURTAIN.
Fine satire, poz--in public all abuse it,
But, by ourselves [Sips], our praise we can't refuse it.
Now, Lisp, read you--there, at that dash and star:"
"Yes, ma'am--A CERTAIN LORD HAD BEST BEWARE,
WHO LIVES NOT TWENTY MILES FROM GROSVENOR SQUARE;
FOR, SHOULD HE LADY W. FIND WILLING,
WORMWOOD IS BITTER"----"Oh! that's me! the villain!
Throw it behind the fire, and never more
Let that vile paper come within my door."
Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart;
To reach our feelings, we ourselves must smart.
Is our young bard so young, to think that he
Can stop the full spring-tide of calumny?
Knows he the world so little, and its trade?
Alas! the devil's sooner raised than laid.
So strong, so swift, the monster there's no gagging:
Cut Scandal's head off, still the tongue is wagging.
Proud of your smiles once lavishly bestow'd,
Again our young Don Quixote takes the road;
To show his gratitude he draws his pen,
And seeks his hydra, Scandal, in his den.
For your applause all perils he would through--
He'll fight--that's write--a cavalliero true,
Till every drop of blood--that's ink--is spilt for you.
ACT I
SCENE I.--LADY SNEERWELL'S House
LADY SNEERWELL at her dressing table with LAPPET; MISS VERJUICE drinking
chocolate
LADY SNEERWELL. The Paragraphs you say were all inserted:
VERJUICE. They were Madam--and as I copied them myself in a feigned Hand
there can be no suspicion whence they came.
LADY SNEERWELL. Did you circulate the Report of Lady Brittle's Intrigue
with Captain Boastall?
VERJUICE. Madam by this Time Lady Brittle is the Talk of half the
Town--and I doubt not in a week the Men will toast her as a Demirep.
LADY SNEERWELL. What have you done as to the insinuation as to a certain
Baronet's Lady and a certain Cook.
VERJUICE. That is in as fine a Train as your Ladyship could wish. I told
the story yesterday to my own maid with directions to communicate it
directly to my Hairdresser. He I am informed has a Brother who courts a
Milliners' Prentice in Pallmall whose mistress has a first cousin whose
sister is Feme [Femme] de Chambre to Mrs. Clackit--so that in the
common course of Things it must reach Mrs. Clackit's Ears within
four-and-twenty hours and then you know the Business is as good as done.
LADY SNEERWELL. Why truly Mrs. Clackit has a very pretty Talent--a great
deal of industry--yet--yes--been tolerably successful in her way--To my
knowledge she has been the cause of breaking off six matches[,] of three
sons being disinherited and four Daughters being turned out of Doors.
Of three several Elopements, as many close confinements--nine separate
maintenances and two Divorces.--nay I have more than once traced her
causing a Tete-a-Tete in the Town and Country Magazine--when the Parties
perhaps had never seen each other's Faces before in the course of their
Lives.
VERJUICE. She certainly has Talents.
LADY SNEERWELL. But her manner is gross.
VERJUICE. 'Tis very true. She generally designs well[,] has a free
tongue and a bold invention--but her colouring is too dark and her
outline often extravagant--She wants that delicacy of Tint--and
mellowness of sneer--which distinguish your Ladyship's Scandal.
LADY SNEERWELL. Ah you are Partial Verjuice.
VERJUICE. Not in the least--everybody allows that Lady Sneerwell can do
more with a word or a Look than many can with the most laboured Detail
even when they happen to have a little truth on their side to support
it.
LADY SNEERWELL. Yes my dear Verjuice. I am no Hypocrite to deny the
satisfaction I reap from the Success of my Efforts. Wounded myself, in
the early part of my Life by the envenomed Tongue of Slander I confess
I have since known no Pleasure equal to the reducing others to the Level
of my own injured Reputation.
VERJUICE. Nothing can be more natural--But my dear Lady Sneerwell There
is one affair in which you have lately employed me, wherein, I confess I
am at a Loss to guess your motives.
LADY SNEERWELL. I conceive you mean with respect to my neighbour, Sir
Peter Teazle, and his Family--Lappet.--And has my conduct in this matter
really appeared to you so mysterious?
[Exit MAID.]
VERJUICE. Entirely so.
LADY SNEERWELL. [VERJUICE.?] An old Batchelor as Sir Peter was[,] having
taken a young wife from out of the Country--as Lady Teazle is--are
certainly fair subjects for a little mischievous raillery--but here are
two young men--to whom Sir Peter has acted as a kind of Guardian since
their Father's death, the eldest possessing the most amiable Character
and universally well spoken of[,] the youngest the most dissipated
and extravagant young Fellow in the Kingdom, without Friends or
caracter--the former one an avowed admirer of yours and apparently
your Favourite[,] the latter attached to Maria Sir Peter's ward--and
confessedly beloved by her. Now on the face of these circumstances it
is utterly unaccountable to me why you a young Widow with no great
jointure--should not close with the passion of a man of such character
and expectations as Mr. Surface--and more so why you should be so
uncommonly earnest to destroy the mutual Attachment subsisting between
his Brother Charles and Maria.
LADY SNEERWELL. Then at once to unravel this mistery--I must inform you
that Love has no share whatever in the intercourse between Mr. Surface
and me.
VERJUICE. No!
LADY SNEERWELL. His real attachment is to Maria or her Fortune--but
finding in his Brother a favoured Rival, He has been obliged to mask his
Pretensions--and profit by my Assistance.
VERJUICE. Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself
in his success.
LADY SNEERWELL. Heavens! how dull you are! cannot you surmise the
weakness which I hitherto, thro' shame have concealed even from
you--must I confess that Charles--that Libertine, that extravagant, that
Bankrupt in Fortune and Reputation--that He it is for whom I am thus
anxious and malicious and to gain whom I would sacrifice--everything----
VERJUICE. Now indeed--your conduct appears consistent and I no longer
wonder at your enmity to Maria, but how came you and Surface so
confidential?
LADY SNEERWELL. For our mutual interest--but I have found out him a long
time since[,] altho' He has contrived to deceive everybody beside--I
know him to be artful selfish and malicious--while with Sir Peter, and
indeed with all his acquaintance, He passes for a youthful Miracle of
Prudence--good sense and Benevolence.
VERJUICE. Yes yes--I know Sir Peter vows He has not his equal in
England; and, above all, He praises him as a MAN OF SENTIMENT.
LADY SNEERWELL. True and with the assistance of his sentiments and
hypocrisy he has brought Sir Peter entirely in his interests with
respect to Maria and is now I believe attempting to flatter Lady Teazle
into the same good opinion towards him--while poor Charles has no Friend
in the House--though I fear he has a powerful one in Maria's Heart,
against whom we must direct our schemes.
SERVANT. Mr. Surface.
LADY SNEERWELL. Shew him up. He generally calls about this Time. I don't
wonder at People's giving him to me for a Lover.
Enter SURFACE
SURFACE. My dear Lady Sneerwell, how do you do to-day--your most
obedient.
LADY SNEERWELL. Miss Verjuice has just been arraigning me on our mutual
attachment now; but I have informed her of our real views and the
Purposes for which our Geniuses at present co-operate. You know
how useful she has been to us--and believe me the confidence is not
ill-placed.
SURFACE. Madam, it is impossible for me to suspect that a Lady of Miss
Verjuice's sensibility and discernment----
LADY SNEERWELL. Well--well--no compliments now--but tell me when you saw
your mistress or what is more material to me your Brother.
SURFACE. I have not seen either since I saw you--but I can inform you
that they are at present at Variance--some of your stories have taken
good effect on Maria.
LADY SNEERWELL. Ah! my dear Verjuice the merit of this belongs to you.
But do your Brother's Distresses encrease?
SURFACE. Every hour. I am told He had another execution in his house
yesterday--in short his Dissipation and extravagance exceed anything I
have ever heard of.
LADY SNEERWELL. Poor Charles!
SURFACE. True Madam--notwithstanding his Vices one can't help feeling
for him--ah poor Charles! I'm sure I wish it was in my Power to be of
any essential Service to him--for the man who does not share in
the Distresses of a Brother--even though merited by his own
misconduct--deserves----
LADY SNEERWELL. O Lud you are going to be moral, and forget that you are
among Friends.
SURFACE. Egad, that's true--I'll keep that sentiment till I see Sir
Peter. However it is certainly a charity to rescue Maria from such a
Libertine who--if He is to be reclaim'd, can be so only by a Person of
your Ladyship's superior accomplishments and understanding.
VERJUICE. 'Twould be a Hazardous experiment.
SURFACE. But--Madam--let me caution you to place no more confidence in
our Friend Snake the Libeller--I have lately detected him in frequent
conference with old Rowland [Rowley] who was formerly my Father's
Steward and has never been a friend of mine.
LADY SNEERWELL. I'm not disappointed in Snake, I never suspected the
fellow to have virtue enough to be faithful even to his own Villany.
Enter MARIA
Maria my dear--how do you do--what's the matter?
MARIA. O here is that disagreeable lover of mine, Sir Benjamin Backbite,
has just call'd at my guardian's with his odious Uncle Crabtree--so I
slipt out and ran hither to avoid them.
LADY SNEERWELL. Is that all?
VERJUICE. Lady Sneerwell--I'll go and write the Letter I mention'd to
you.
SURFACE. If my Brother Charles had been of the Party, madam, perhaps you
would not have been so much alarmed.
LADY SNEERWELL. Nay now--you are severe for I dare swear the Truth
of the matter is Maria heard YOU were here--but my dear--what has Sir
Benjamin done that you should avoid him so----
MARIA. Oh He has done nothing--but his conversation is a perpetual Libel
on all his Acquaintance.
SURFACE. Aye and the worst of it is there is no advantage in not knowing
Them, for He'll abuse a stranger just as soon as his best Friend--and
Crabtree is as bad.
LADY SNEERWELL. Nay but we should make allowance[--]Sir Benjamin is a
wit and a poet.
MARIA. For my Part--I own madam--wit loses its respect with me, when I
see it in company with malice.--What do you think, Mr. Surface?
SURFACE. Certainly, Madam, to smile at the jest which plants a Thorn on
another's Breast is to become a principal in the mischief.
LADY SNEERWELL. Pshaw--there's no possibility of being witty without a
little [ill] nature--the malice of a good thing is the Barb that makes
it stick.--What's your opinion, Mr. Surface?
SURFACE. Certainly madam--that conversation where the Spirit of Raillery
is suppressed will ever appear tedious and insipid--
MARIA. Well I'll not debate how far Scandal may be allowable--but in a
man I am sure it is always contemtable.--We have Pride, envy, Rivalship,
and a Thousand motives to depreciate each other--but the male-slanderer
must have the cowardice of a woman before He can traduce one.
LADY SNEERWELL. I wish my Cousin Verjuice hadn't left us--she should
embrace you.
SURFACE. Ah! she's an old maid and is privileged of course.
Enter SERVANT
Madam Mrs. Candour is below and if your Ladyship's at leisure will leave
her carriage.
LADY SNEERWELL. Beg her to walk in. Now, Maria[,] however here is a
Character to your Taste, for tho' Mrs. Candour is a little talkative
everybody allows her to be the best-natured and best sort of woman.
MARIA. Yes with a very gross affectation of good Nature and
Benevolence--she does more mischief than the Direct malice of old
Crabtree.
SURFACE. Efaith 'tis very true Lady Sneerwell--Whenever I hear the
current running again the characters of my Friends, I never think them
in such Danger as when Candour undertakes their Defence.
LADY SNEERWELL. Hush here she is----
Enter MRS. CANDOUR
MRS. CANDOUR. My dear Lady Sneerwell how have you been this Century.
I have never seen you tho' I have heard of you very often.--Mr.
Surface--the World says scandalous things of you--but indeed it is
no matter what the world says, for I think one hears nothing else but
scandal.
SURFACE. Just so, indeed, Ma'am.
MRS. CANDOUR. Ah Maria Child--what[!] is the whole affair off between
you and Charles? His extravagance; I presume--The Town talks of nothing
else----
MARIA. I am very sorry, Ma'am, the Town has so little to do.
MRS. CANDOUR. True, true, Child; but there's no stopping people's
Tongues. I own I was hurt to hear it--as I indeed was to learn from the
same quarter that your guardian, Sir Peter[,] and Lady Teazle have not
agreed lately so well as could be wish'd.
MARIA. 'Tis strangely impertinent for people to busy themselves so.
MRS. CANDOUR. Very true, Child; but what's to be done? People will
talk--there's no preventing it.--why it was but yesterday I was told
that Miss Gadabout had eloped with Sir Filagree Flirt. But, Lord! there
is no minding what one hears; tho' to be sure I had this from very good
authority.
MARIA. Such reports are highly scandalous.
MRS. CANDOUR. So they are Child--shameful! shameful! but the world is
so censorious no character escapes. Lord, now! who would have suspected
your friend, Miss Prim, of an indiscretion Yet such is the ill-nature
of people, that they say her unkle stopped her last week just as she was
stepping into a Postchaise with her Dancing-master.
MARIA. I'll answer for't there are no grounds for the Report.
MRS. CANDOUR. Oh, no foundation in the world I dare swear[;] no more
probably than for the story circulated last month, of Mrs. Festino's
affair with Colonel Cassino--tho' to be sure that matter was never
rightly clear'd up.
SURFACE. The license of invention some people take is monstrous indeed.
MARIA. 'Tis so but in my opinion, those who report such things are
equally culpable.
MRS. CANDOUR. To be sure they are[;] Tale Bearers are as bad as the Tale
makers--'tis an old observation and a very true one--but what's to be
done as I said before--how will you prevent People from talking--to-day,
Mrs. Clackitt assured me, Mr. and Mrs. Honeymoon were at last become
mere man and wife--like [the rest of their] acquaintance--she likewise
hinted that a certain widow in the next street had got rid of her Dropsy
and recovered her shape in a most surprising manner--at the same [time]
Miss Tattle, who was by affirm'd, that Lord Boffalo had discover'd his
Lady at a house of no extraordinary Fame--and that Sir Harry Bouquet and
Tom Saunter were to measure swords on a similar Provocation. But--Lord!
do you think I would report these Things--No, no[!] Tale Bearers as I
said before are just as bad as the talemakers.
SURFACE. Ah! Mrs. Candour, if everybody had your Forbearance and good
nature--
MRS. CANDOUR. I confess Mr. Surface I cannot bear to hear People
traduced behind their Backs[;] and when ugly circumstances come out
against our acquaintances I own I always love to think the best--by the
bye I hope 'tis not true that your Brother is absolutely ruin'd--
SURFACE. I am afraid his circumstances are very bad indeed, Ma'am--
MRS. CANDOUR. Ah! I heard so--but you must tell him to keep up his
Spirits--everybody almost is in the same way--Lord Spindle, Sir Thomas
Splint, Captain Quinze, and Mr. Nickit--all up, I hear, within this
week; so, if Charles is undone, He'll find half his Acquaintance ruin'd
too, and that, you know, is a consolation--
SURFACE. Doubtless, Ma'am--a very great one.
Enter SERVANT
SERVANT. Mr. Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite.
LADY SNEERWELL. Soh! Maria, you see your lover pursues you--Positively
you shan't escape.
Enter CRABTREE and SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE
CRABTREE. Lady Sneerwell, I kiss your hand. Mrs. Candour I don't believe
you are acquainted with my Nephew Sir Benjamin Backbite--Egad, Ma'am, He
has a pretty wit--and is a pretty Poet too isn't He Lady Sneerwell?
SIR BENJAMIN. O fie, Uncle!
CRABTREE. Nay egad it's true--I back him at a Rebus or a Charade against
the best Rhymer in the Kingdom--has your Ladyship heard the Epigram he
wrote last week on Lady Frizzle's Feather catching Fire--Do Benjamin
repeat it--or the Charade you made last Night extempore at Mrs.
Drowzie's conversazione--Come now your first is the Name of a Fish, your
second a great naval commander--and
SIR BENJAMIN. Dear Uncle--now--prithee----
CRABTREE. Efaith, Ma'am--'twould surprise you to hear how ready he is at
all these Things.
LADY SNEERWELL. I wonder Sir Benjamin you never publish anything.
SIR BENJAMIN. To say truth, Ma'am, 'tis very vulgar to Print and as my
little Productions are mostly Satires and Lampoons I find they
circulate more by giving copies in confidence to the Friends of the
Parties--however I have some love-Elegies, which, when favoured with
this lady's smile I mean to give to the Public.
[Pointing to MARIA.]
CRABTREE. 'Fore Heaven, ma'am, they'll immortalize you--you'll be handed
down to Posterity, like Petrarch's Laura, or Waller's Sacharissa.
SIR BENJAMIN. Yes Madam I think you will like them--when you shall see
in a beautiful Quarto Page how a neat rivulet of Text shall meander
thro' a meadow of margin--'fore Gad, they will be the most elegant
Things of their kind--
CRABTREE. But Ladies, have you heard the news?
MRS. CANDOUR. What, Sir, do you mean the Report of----
CRABTREE. No ma'am that's not it.--Miss Nicely is going to be married to
her own Footman.
MRS. CANDOUR. Impossible!
CRABTREE. Ask Sir Benjamin.
SIR BENJAMIN. 'Tis very true, Ma'am--everything is fixed and the wedding
Livery bespoke.
CRABTREE. Yes and they say there were pressing reasons for't.
MRS. CANDOUR. It cannot be--and I wonder any one should believe such a
story of so prudent a Lady as Miss Nicely.
SIR BENJAMIN. O Lud! ma'am, that's the very reason 'twas believed at
once. She has always been so cautious and so reserved, that everybody
was sure there was some reason for it at bottom.
LADY SNEERWELL. Yes a Tale of Scandal is as fatal to the Reputation of
a prudent Lady of her stamp as a Fever is generally to those of the
strongest Constitutions, but there is a sort of puny sickly Reputation,
that is always ailing yet will outlive the robuster characters of a
hundred Prudes.
SIR BENJAMIN. True Madam there are Valetudinarians in Reputation as well
as constitution--who being conscious of their weak Part, avoid the
least breath of air, and supply their want of Stamina by care and
circumspection--
MRS. CANDOUR. Well but this may be all mistake--You know, Sir Benjamin
very trifling circumstances often give rise to the most injurious Tales.
CRABTREE. That they do I'll be sworn Ma'am--did you ever hear how
Miss Shepherd came to lose her Lover and her Character last summer at
Tunbridge--Sir Benjamin you remember it--
SIR BENJAMIN. O to be sure the most whimsical circumstance--
LADY SNEERWELL. How was it Pray--
CRABTREE. Why one evening at Mrs. Ponto's Assembly--the conversation
happened to turn on the difficulty of breeding Nova-Scotia Sheep in
this country--says a young Lady in company[, "]I have known instances
of it[--]for Miss Letitia Shepherd, a first cousin of mine, had a
Nova-Scotia Sheep that produced her Twins.["--"]What!["] cries the old
Dowager Lady Dundizzy (who you know is as deaf as a Post), ["]has Miss
Letitia Shepherd had twins["]--This Mistake--as you may imagine, threw
the whole company into a fit of Laughing--However 'twas the next morning
everywhere reported and in a few Days believed by the whole Town, that
Miss Letitia Shepherd had actually been brought to Bed of a fine Boy
and Girl--and in less than a week there were People who could name the
Father, and the Farm House where the Babies were put out to Nurse.
LADY SNEERWELL. Strange indeed!
CRABTREE. Matter of Fact, I assure you--O Lud! Mr. Surface pray is it
true that your uncle Sir Oliver is coming home--
SURFACE. Not that I know of indeed Sir.
CRABTREE. He has been in the East Indies a long time--you can scarcely
remember him--I believe--sad comfort on his arrival to hear how your
Brother has gone on!
SURFACE. Charles has been imprudent Sir to be sure[;] but I hope no Busy
people have already prejudiced Sir Oliver against him--He may reform--
SIR BENJAMIN. To be sure He may--for my Part I never believed him to be
so utterly void of Principle as People say--and tho' he has lost all his
Friends I am told nobody is better spoken of--by the Jews.
CRABTREE. That's true egad nephew--if the Old Jewry was a Ward I believe
Charles would be an alderman--no man more popular there, 'fore Gad I
hear He pays as many annuities as the Irish Tontine and that whenever
He's sick they have Prayers for the recovery of his Health in the
synagogue--
SIR BENJAMIN. Yet no man lives in greater Splendour:--they tell me when
He entertains his Friends--He can sit down to dinner with a dozen of his
own Securities, have a score Tradesmen waiting in the Anti-Chamber, and
an officer behind every guest's Chair.
SURFACE. This may be entertainment to you Gentlemen but you pay very
little regard to the Feelings of a Brother.
MARIA. Their malice is intolerable--Lady Sneerwell I must wish you a
good morning--I'm not very well.
[Exit MARIA.]
MRS. CANDOUR. O dear she chang'd colour very much!
LADY SNEERWELL. Do Mrs. Candour follow her--she may want assistance.
MRS. CANDOUR. That I will with all my soul ma'am.--Poor dear Girl--who
knows--what her situation may be!
[Exit MRS. CANDOUR.]
LADY SNEERWELL. 'Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear
Charles reflected on notwithstanding their difference.
SIR BENJAMIN. The young Lady's Penchant is obvious.
CRABTREE. But Benjamin--you mustn't give up the Pursuit for that--follow
her and put her into good humour--repeat her some of your verses--come,
I'll assist you--
SIR BENJAMIN. Mr. Surface I did not mean to hurt you--but depend on't
your Brother is utterly undone--
[Going.]
CRABTREE. O Lud! aye--undone--as ever man was--can't raise a guinea.
SIR BENJAMIN. And everything sold--I'm told--that was movable--
[Going.]
CRABTREE. I was at his house--not a thing left but some empty Bottles
that were overlooked and the Family Pictures, which I believe are framed
in the Wainscot.
[Going.]
SIR BENJAMIN. And I'm very sorry to hear also some bad stories against
him.
[Going.]
CRABTREE. O He has done many mean things--that's certain!
SIR BENJAMIN. But however as He is your Brother----
[Going.]
CRABTREE. We'll tell you all another opportunity.
[Exeunt.]
LADY SNEERWELL. Ha! ha! ha! 'tis very hard for them to leave a subject
they have not quite run down.
SURFACE. And I believe the Abuse was no more acceptable to your Ladyship
than Maria.
LADY SNEERWELL. I doubt her Affections are farther engaged than we
imagin'd but the Family are to be here this Evening so you may as
well dine where you are and we shall have an opportunity of observing
farther--in the meantime, I'll go and plot Mischief and you shall study
Sentiments.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II.--SIR PETER'S House
Enter SIR PETER
SIR PETER. When an old Bachelor takes a young Wife--what is He to
expect--'Tis now six months since Lady Teazle made me the happiest
of men--and I have been the most miserable Dog ever since that ever
committed wedlock. We tift a little going to church--and came to a
Quarrel before the Bells had done ringing--I was more than once nearly
chok'd with gall during the Honeymoon--and had lost all comfort in Life
before my Friends had done wishing me Joy--yet I chose with caution--a
girl bred wholly in the country--who never knew luxury beyond one silk
gown--nor dissipation above the annual Gala of a Race-Ball--Yet she now
plays her Part in all the extravagant Fopperies of the Fashion and the
Town, with as ready a Grace as if she had never seen a Bush nor a
grass Plot out of Grosvenor-Square! I am sneered at by my old
acquaintance--paragraphed--in the news Papers--She dissipates my
Fortune, and contradicts all my Humours--yet the worst of it is I doubt
I love her or I should never bear all this. However I'll never be weak
enough to own it.
Enter ROWLEY
ROWLEY. Sir Peter, your servant:--how is 't with you Sir--
SIR PETER. Very bad--Master Rowley--very bad[.] I meet with nothing but
crosses and vexations--
ROWLEY. What can have happened to trouble you since yesterday?
SIR PETER. A good--question to a married man--
ROWLEY. Nay I'm sure your Lady Sir Peter can't be the cause of your
uneasiness.
SIR PETER. Why has anybody told you she was dead[?]
ROWLEY. Come, come, Sir Peter, you love her, notwithstanding your
tempers do not exactly agree.
SIR PETER. But the Fault is entirely hers, Master Rowley--I am myself,
the sweetest temper'd man alive, and hate a teasing temper; and so I
tell her a hundred Times a day--
ROWLEY. Indeed!
SIR PETER. Aye and what is very extraordinary in all our disputes she
is always in the wrong! But Lady Sneerwell, and the Set she meets at her
House, encourage the perverseness of her Disposition--then to complete
my vexations--Maria--my Ward--whom I ought to have the Power of a Father
over, is determined to turn Rebel too and absolutely refuses the man
whom I have long resolved on for her husband--meaning I suppose, to
bestow herself on his profligate Brother.
ROWLEY. You know Sir Peter I have always taken the Liberty to differ
with you on the subject of these two young Gentlemen--I only wish you
may not be deceived in your opinion of the elder. For Charles, my life
on't! He will retrieve his errors yet--their worthy Father, once my
honour'd master, was at his years nearly as wild a spark.
SIR PETER. You are wrong, Master Rowley--on their Father's Death you
know I acted as a kind of Guardian to them both--till their uncle Sir
Oliver's Eastern Bounty gave them an early independence. Of course no
person could have more opportunities of judging of their Hearts--and I
was never mistaken in my life. Joseph is indeed a model for the young
men of the Age--He is a man of Sentiment--and acts up to the Sentiments
he professes--but for the other[,] take my word for't [if] he had any
grain of Virtue by descent--he has dissipated it with the rest of his
inheritance. Ah! my old Friend, Sir Oliver will be deeply mortified when
he finds how Part of his Bounty has been misapplied.
ROWLEY. I am sorry to find you so violent against the young man because
this may be the most critical Period of his Fortune. I came hither with
news that will surprise you.
SIR PETER. What! let me hear--
ROWLEY. Sir Oliver is arrived and at this moment in Town.
SIR PETER. How!--you astonish me--I thought you did not expect him this
month!--
ROWLEY. I did not--but his Passage has been remarkably quick.
SIR PETER. Egad I shall rejoice to see my old Friend--'Tis sixteen years
since we met--We have had many a Day together--but does he still enjoin
us not to inform his Nephews of his Arrival?
ROWLEY. Most strictly--He means, before He makes it known to make some
trial of their Dispositions and we have already planned something for
the purpose.
SIR PETER. Ah there needs no art to discover their merits--however he
shall have his way--but pray does he know I am married!
ROWLEY. Yes and will soon wish you joy.
SIR PETER. You may tell him 'tis too late--ah Oliver will laugh at
me--we used to rail at matrimony together--but He has been steady to his
Text--well He must be at my house tho'--I'll instantly give orders for
his Reception--but Master Rowley--don't drop a word that Lady Teazle and
I ever disagree.
ROWLEY. By no means.
SIR PETER. For I should never be able to stand Noll's jokes; so I'd have
him think that we are a very happy couple.
ROWLEY. I understand you--but then you must be very careful not to
differ while He's in the House with you.
SIR PETER. Egad--and so we must--that's impossible. Ah! Master Rowley
when an old Batchelor marries a young wife--He deserves--no the crime
carries the Punishment along with it.
[Exeunt.]
END OF THE FIRST ACT
ACT II
SCENE I.--SIR PETER and LADY TEAZLE
SIR PETER. Lady Teazle--Lady Teazle I'll not bear it.
LADY TEAZLE. Sir Peter--Sir Peter you--may scold or smile, according to
your Humour[,] but I ought to have my own way in everything, and what's
more I will too--what! tho' I was educated in the country I know very
well that women of Fashion in London are accountable to nobody after
they are married.
SIR PETER. Very well! ma'am very well! so a husband is to have no
influence, no authority?
LADY TEAZLE. Authority! no, to be sure--if you wanted authority over me,
you should have adopted me and not married me[:] I am sure you were old
enough.
SIR PETER. Old enough--aye there it is--well--well--Lady Teazle, tho'
my life may be made unhappy by your Temper--I'll not be ruined by your
extravagance--
LADY TEAZLE. My extravagance! I'm sure I'm not more extravagant than a
woman of Fashion ought to be.
SIR PETER. No no Madam, you shall throw away no more sums on such
unmeaning Luxury--'Slife to spend as much to furnish your Dressing Room
with Flowers in winter as would suffice to turn the Pantheon into a
Greenhouse, and give a Fete Champetre at Christmas.
LADY TEAZLE. Lord! Sir Peter am I to blame because Flowers are dear in
cold weather? You should find fault with the Climate, and not with me.
For my Part I'm sure I wish it was spring all the year round--and that
Roses grew under one's Feet!
SIR PETER. Oons! Madam--if you had been born to those Fopperies I
shouldn't wonder at your talking thus;--but you forget what your
situation was when I married you--
LADY TEAZLE. No, no, I don't--'twas a very disagreeable one or I should
never nave married you.
SIR PETER. Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a humbler
Style--the daughter of a plain country Squire. Recollect Lady Teazle
when I saw you first--sitting at your tambour in a pretty figured linen
gown--with a Bunch of Keys at your side, and your apartment hung round
with Fruits in worsted, of your own working--
LADY TEAZLE. O horrible!--horrible!--don't put me in mind of it!
SIR PETER. Yes, yes Madam and your daily occupation to inspect
the Dairy, superintend the Poultry, make extracts from the Family
Receipt-book, and comb your aunt Deborah's Lap Dog.
LADY TEAZLE. Abominable!
SIR PETER. Yes Madam--and what were your evening amusements? to draw
Patterns for Ruffles, which you hadn't the materials to make--play Pope
Joan with the Curate--to read a sermon to your Aunt--or be stuck down to
an old Spinet to strum your father to sleep after a Fox Chase.
LADY TEAZLE. Scandalous--Sir Peter not a word of it true--
SIR PETER. Yes, Madam--These were the recreations I took you from--and
now--no one more extravagantly in the Fashion--Every Fopery adopted--a
head-dress to o'er top Lady Pagoda with feathers pendant horizontal and
perpendicular--you forget[,] Lady Teazle--when a little wired gauze with
a few Beads made you a fly Cap not much bigger than a blew-bottle, and
your Hair was comb'd smooth over a Roll--
LADY TEAZLE. Shocking! horrible Roll!!
SIR PETER. But now--you must have your coach--Vis-a-vis, and three
powder'd Footmen before your Chair--and in the summer a pair of white
cobs to draw you to Kensington Gardens--no recollection when y ou were
content to ride double, behind the Butler, on a docked Coach-Horse?
LADY TEAZLE. Horrid!--I swear I never did.
SIR PETER. This, madam, was your situation--and what have I not done
for you? I have made you woman of Fashion of Fortune of Rank--in short I
have made you my wife.
LADY TEAZLE. Well then and there is but one thing more you can make me
to add to the obligation.
SIR PETER. What's that pray?
LADY TEAZLE. Your widow.--
SIR PETER. Thank you Madam--but don't flatter yourself for though your
ill-conduct may disturb my Peace it shall never break my Heart I promise
you--however I am equally obliged to you for the Hint.
LADY TEAZLE. Then why will you endeavour to make yourself so
disagreeable to me--and thwart me in every little elegant expense.
SIR PETER. 'Slife--Madam I pray, had you any of these elegant expenses
when you married me?
LADY TEAZLE. Lud Sir Peter would you have me be out of the Fashion?
SIR PETER. The Fashion indeed!--what had you to do with the Fashion
before you married me?
LADY TEAZLE. For my Part--I should think you would like to have your
wife thought a woman of Taste--
SIR PETER. Aye there again--Taste! Zounds Madam you had no Taste when
you married me--
LADY TEAZLE. That's very true indeed Sir Peter! after having married you
I should never pretend to Taste again I allow.
SIR PETER. So--so then--Madam--if these are your Sentiments pray how
came I to be honour'd with your Hand?
LADY TEAZLE. Shall I tell you the Truth?
SIR PETER. If it's not too great a Favour.
LADY TEAZLE. Why the Fact is I was tired of all those agreeable
Recreations which you have so good naturally [naturedly] Described--and
having a Spirit to spend and enjoy a Fortune--I determined to marry the
first rich man that would have me.
SIR PETER. A very honest confession--truly--but pray madam was there no
one else you might have tried to ensnare but me.
LADY TEAZLE. O lud--I drew my net at several but you were the only one I
could catch.
SIR PETER. This is plain dealing indeed--
LADY TEAZLE. But now Sir Peter if we have finish'd our daily Jangle I
presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's?
SIR PETER. Aye--there's another Precious circumstance--a charming set of
acquaintance--you have made there!
LADY TEAZLE. Nay Sir Peter they are People of Rank and Fortune--and
remarkably tenacious of reputation.
SIR PETER. Yes egad they are tenacious of Reputation with a vengeance,
for they don't chuse anybody should have a Character but themselves!
Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on hurdles who has done less
mischief than these utterers of forged Tales, coiners of Scandal, and
clippers of Reputation.
LADY TEAZLE. What would you restrain the freedom of speech?
SIR PETER. Aye they have made you just as bad [as] any one of the
Society.
LADY TEAZLE. Why--I believe I do bear a Part with a tolerable Grace--But
I vow I bear no malice against the People I abuse, when I say an
ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure Good Humour--and I take it for
granted they deal exactly in the same manner with me, but Sir Peter you
know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell's too.
SIR PETER. Well well I'll call in, just to look after my own character.
LADY TEAZLE. Then, indeed, you must make Haste after me, or you'll be
too late--so good bye to ye.
SIR PETER. So--I have gain'd much by my intended expostulation--yet
with what a charming air she contradicts every thing I say--and how
pleasingly she shows her contempt of my authority--Well tho' I can't
make her love me, there is certainly a great satisfaction in quarrelling
with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she is
doing everything in her Power to plague me.
[Exit.]
SCENE II.--At LADY SNEERWELL'S
LADY SNEERWELL, MRS. CANDOUR, CRABTREE, SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE,
and SURFACE
LADY SNEERWELL. Nay, positively, we will hear it.
SURFACE. Yes--yes the Epigram by all means.
SiR BENJAMIN. O plague on't unkle--'tis mere nonsense--
CRABTREE. No no; 'fore gad very clever for an extempore!
SIR BENJAMIN. But ladies you should be acquainted with the
circumstances. You must know that one day last week as Lady Betty
Curricle was taking the Dust in High Park, in a sort of duodecimo
Phaeton--she desired me to write some verses on her Ponies--upon which I
took out my Pocket-Book--and in one moment produced--the following:--
'Sure never were seen two such beautiful Ponies;
Other Horses are Clowns--and these macaronies,
Nay to give 'em this Title, I'm sure isn't wrong,
Their Legs are so slim--and their Tails are so long.
CRABTREE. There Ladies--done in the smack of a whip and on Horseback
too.
SURFACE. A very Phoebus, mounted--indeed Sir Benjamin.
SIR BENJAMIN. Oh dear Sir--Trifles--Trifles.
Enter LADY TEAZLE and MARIA
MRS. CANDOUR. I must have a Copy--
LADY SNEERWELL. Lady Teazle--I hope we shall see Sir Peter?
LADY TEAZLE. I believe He'll wait on your Ladyship presently.
LADY SNEERWELL. Maria my love you look grave. Come, you sit down to
Piquet with Mr. Surface.
MARIA. I take very little Pleasure in cards--however, I'll do as you
Please.
LADY TEAZLE. I am surprised Mr. Surface should sit down her--I thought
He would have embraced this opportunity of speaking to me before Sir
Peter came--[Aside.]
MRS. CANDOUR. Now, I'll die but you are so scandalous I'll forswear your
society.
LADY TEAZLE. What's the matter, Mrs. Candour?
MRS. CANDOUR. They'll not allow our friend Miss Vermillion to be
handsome.
LADY SNEERWELL. Oh, surely she is a pretty woman. . . .
[CRABTREE.] I am very glad you think so ma'am.
MRS. CANDOUR. She has a charming fresh Colour.
CRABTREE. Yes when it is fresh put on--
LADY TEAZLE. O fie! I'll swear her colour is natural--I have seen it
come and go--
CRABTREE. I dare swear you have, ma'am: it goes of a Night, and comes
again in the morning.
SIR BENJAMIN. True, uncle, it not only comes and goes but what's more
egad her maid can fetch and carry it--
MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha! how I hate to hear you talk so! But surely,
now, her Sister, is or was very handsome.
CRABTREE. Who? Mrs. Stucco? O lud! she's six-and-fifty if she's an hour!
MRS. CANDOUR. Now positively you wrong her[;] fifty-two, or fifty-three
is the utmost--and I don't think she looks more.
SIR BENJAMIN. Ah! there's no judging by her looks, unless one was to see
her Face.
LADY SNEERWELL. Well--well--if she does take some pains to repair the
ravages of Time--you must allow she effects it with great ingenuity--and
surely that's better than the careless manner in which the widow Ocre
chaulks her wrinkles.
SIR BENJAMIN. Nay now--you are severe upon the widow--come--come, it
isn't that she paints so ill--but when she has finished her Face she
joins it on so badly to her Neck, that she looks like a mended Statue,
in which the Connoisseur sees at once that the Head's modern tho' the
Trunk's antique----
CRABTREE. Ha! ha! ha! well said, Nephew!
MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha! Well, you make me laugh but I vow I hate you
for it--what do you think of Miss Simper?
SIR BENJAMIN. Why, she has very pretty Teeth.
LADY TEAZLE. Yes and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor
laughing (which very seldom happens)--she never absolutely shuts her
mouth, but leaves it always on a-Jar, as it were----
MRS. CANDOUR. How can you be so ill-natured!
LADY TEAZLE. Nay, I allow even that's better than the Pains Mrs. Prim
takes to conceal her losses in Front--she draws her mouth till it
resembles the aperture of a Poor's-Box, and all her words appear to
slide out edgewise.
LADY SNEERWELL. Very well Lady Teazle I see you can be a little severe.
LADY TEAZLE. In defence of a Friend it is but justice, but here comes
Sir Peter to spoil our Pleasantry.
Enter SIR PETER
SIR PETER. Ladies, your obedient--Mercy on me--here is the whole set! a
character's dead at every word, I suppose.
MRS. CANDOUR. I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter--they have been so
censorious and Lady Teazle as bad as any one.
SIR PETER. That must be very distressing to you, Mrs. Candour I dare
swear.
MRS. CANDOUR. O they will allow good Qualities to nobody--not even good
nature to our Friend Mrs. Pursy.
LADY TEAZLE. What, the fat dowager who was at Mrs. Codrille's
[Quadrille's] last Night?
LADY SNEERWELL. Nay--her bulk is her misfortune and when she takes such
Pains to get rid of it you ought not to reflect on her.
MRS. CANDOUR. 'Tis very true, indeed.
LADY TEAZLE. Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey--laces
herself by pulleys and often in the hottest noon of summer you may
see her on a little squat Pony, with her hair plaited up behind like a
Drummer's and puffing round the Ring on a full trot.
MRS. CANDOUR. I thank you Lady Teazle for defending her.
SIR PETER. Yes, a good Defence, truly!
MRS. CANDOUR. But for Sir Benjamin, He is as censorious as Miss Sallow.
CRABTREE. Yes and she is a curious Being to pretend to be censorious--an
awkward Gawky, without any one good Point under Heaven!
LADY SNEERWELL. Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss
Sallow is a Relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her Person great
allowance is to be made--for, let me tell you a woman labours under many
disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl at six-and-thirty.
MRS. CANDOUR. Tho', surely she is handsome still--and for the weakness
in her eyes considering how much she reads by candle-light it is not to
be wonder'd at.
LADY SNEERWELL. True and then as to her manner--upon my word I think
it is particularly graceful considering she never had the least
Education[:] for you know her Mother was a Welch milliner, and her
Father a sugar-Baker at Bristow.--
SIR BENJAMIN. Ah! you are both of you too good-natured!
SIR PETER. Yes, damned good-natured! Her own relation! mercy on me!
[Aside.]
MRS. CANDOUR. For my Part I own I cannot bear to hear a friend
ill-spoken of?
SIR PETER. No, to be sure!
SIR BENJAMIN. Ah you are of a moral turn Mrs. Candour and can sit for an
hour to hear Lady Stucco talk sentiments.
LADY SNEERWELL. Nay I vow Lady Stucco is very well with the Dessert
after Dinner for she's just like the Spanish Fruit one cracks for
mottoes--made up of Paint and Proverb.
MRS. CANDOUR. Well, I never will join in ridiculing a Friend--and so I
constantly tell my cousin Ogle--and you all know what pretensions she
has to be critical in Beauty.
LADY TEAZLE. O to be sure she has herself the oddest countenance that
ever was seen--'tis a collection of Features from all the different
Countries of the globe.
SIR BENJAMIN. So she has indeed--an Irish Front----
CRABTREE. Caledonian Locks----
SIR BENJAMIN. Dutch Nose----
CRABTREE. Austrian Lips----
SIR BENJAMIN. Complexion of a Spaniard----
CRABTREE. And Teeth a la Chinoise----
SIR BENJAMIN. In short, her Face resembles a table d'hote at Spa--where
no two guests are of a nation----
CRABTREE. Or a Congress at the close of a general War--wherein all the
members even to her eyes appear to have a different interest and her
Nose and Chin are the only Parties likely to join issue.
MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha!
SIR PETER. Mercy on my Life[!] a Person they dine with twice a week!
[Aside.]
LADY SNEERWELL. Go--go--you are a couple of provoking Toads.
MRS. CANDOUR. Nay but I vow you shall not carry the Laugh off so--for
give me leave to say, that Mrs. Ogle----
SIR PETER. Madam--madam--I beg your Pardon--there's no stopping these
good Gentlemen's Tongues--but when I tell you Mrs. Candour that the Lady
they are abusing is a particular Friend of mine, I hope you'll not take
her Part.
LADY SNEERWELL. Ha! ha! ha! well said, Sir Peter--but you are a cruel
creature--too Phlegmatic yourself for a jest and too peevish to allow
wit in others.
SIR PETER. Ah Madam true wit is more nearly allow'd [allied?] to good
Nature than your Ladyship is aware of.
LADY SNEERWELL. True Sir Peter--I believe they are so near akin that
they can never be united.
SIR BENJAMIN. O rather Madam suppose them man and wife because one
seldom sees them together.
LADY TEAZLE. But Sir Peter is such an Enemy to Scandal I believe He
would have it put down by Parliament.
SIR PETER. 'Fore heaven! Madam, if they were to consider the Sporting
with Reputation of as much importance as poaching on manors--and pass
an Act for the Preservation of Fame--there are many would thank them for
the Bill.
LADY SNEERWELL. O Lud! Sir Peter would you deprive us of our
Privileges--
SIR PETER. Aye Madam--and then no person should be permitted to
kill characters or run down reputations, but qualified old Maids and
disappointed Widows.--
LADY SNEERWELL. Go, you monster--
MRS. CANDOUR. But sure you would not be quite so severe on those who
only report what they hear?
SIR PETER. Yes Madam, I would have Law Merchant for that too--and in all
cases of slander currency, whenever the Drawer of the Lie was not to
be found, the injured Party should have a right to come on any of the
indorsers.
CRABTREE. Well for my Part I believe there never was a Scandalous Tale
without some foundation.<3>
LADY SNEERWELL. Come Ladies shall we sit down to Cards in the next Room?
Enter SERVANT, whispers SIR PETER
SIR PETER. I'll be with them directly.--
[Exit SERVANT.]
I'll get away unperceived.
LADY SNEERWELL. Sir Peter you are not leaving us?
SIR PETER. Your Ladyship must excuse me--I'm called away by particular
Business--but I leave my Character behind me--
[Exit.]
SIR BENJAMIN. Well certainly Lady Teazle that lord of yours is a
strange being--I could tell you some stories of him would make you laugh
heartily if He wern't your Husband.
LADY TEAZLE. O pray don't mind that--come do let's hear 'em.
[join the rest of the Company going into the Next Room.]
SURFACE. Maria I see you have no satisfaction in this society.
MARIA. How is it possible I should? If to raise malicious smiles at the
infirmities or misfortunes of those who have never injured us be
the province of wit or Humour, Heaven grant me a double Portion of
Dullness--
SURFACE. Yet they appear more ill-natured than they are--they have no
malice at heart--
MARIA. Then is their conduct still more contemptible[;] for in my
opinion--nothing could excuse the intemperance of their tongues but a
natural and ungovernable bitterness of Mind.
SURFACE. Undoubtedly Madam--and it has always been a sentiment of
mine--that to propagate a malicious Truth wantonly--is more despicable
than to falsify from Revenge, but can you Maria feel thus [f]or others
and be unkind to me alone--nay is hope to be denied the tenderest
Passion.--
MARIA. Why will you distress me by renewing this subject--
SURFACE. Ah! Maria! you would not treat me thus and oppose your
guardian's Sir Peter's wishes--but that I see that my Profligate Brother
is still a favour'd Rival.
MARIA. Ungenerously urged--but whatever my sentiments of that
unfortunate young man are, be assured I shall not feel more bound to
give him up because his Distresses have sunk him so low as to deprive
him of the regard even of a Brother.
SURFACE. Nay but Maria do not leave me with a Frown--by all that's
honest, I swear----Gad's Life here's Lady Teazle--you must not--no you
shall--for tho' I have the greatest Regard for Lady Teazle----
MARIA. Lady Teazle!
SURFACE. Yet were Sir Peter to suspect----
[Enter LADY TEAZLE, and comes forward]
LADY TEAZLE. What's this, Pray--do you take her for me!--Child you are
wanted in the next Room.--What's all this, pray--
SURFACE. O the most unlucky circumstance in Nature. Maria has somehow
suspected the tender concern I have for your happiness, and threaten'd
to acquaint Sir Peter with her suspicions--and I was just endeavouring
to reason with her when you came.
LADY TEAZLE. Indeed but you seem'd to adopt--a very tender mode of
reasoning--do you usually argue on your knees?
SURFACE. O she's a Child--and I thought a little Bombast----but Lady
Teazle when are you to give me your judgment on my Library as you
promised----
LADY TEAZLE. No--no I begin to think it would be imprudent--and you know
I admit you as a Lover no farther than Fashion requires.
SURFACE. True--a mere Platonic Cicisbeo, what every London wife is
entitled to.
LADY TEAZLE. Certainly one must not be out of the Fashion--however, I
have so much of my country Prejudices left--that--though Sir Peter's ill
humour may vex me ever so, it never shall provoke me to----
SURFACE. The only revenge in your Power--well I applaud your moderation.
LADY TEAZLE. Go--you are an insinuating Hypocrite--but we shall be
miss'd--let us join the company.
SURFACE. True, but we had best not return together.
LADY TEAZLE. Well don't stay--for Maria shan't come to hear any more of
your Reasoning, I promise you--
[Exit.]
SURFACE. A curious Dilemma truly my Politics have run me into. I wanted
at first only to ingratiate myself with Lady Teazle that she might not
be my enemy with Maria--and I have I don't know how--become her
serious Lover, so that I stand a chance of Committing a Crime I never
meditated--and probably of losing Maria by the Pursuit!--Sincerely I
begin to wish I had never made such a Point of gaining so very good a
character, for it has led me into so many curst Rogueries that I doubt I
shall be exposed at last.
[Exit.]
SCENE III.--At SIR PETER'S
--ROWLEY and SIR OLIVER--
SIR OLIVER. Ha! ha! ha! and so my old Friend is married, hey?--a young
wife out of the country!--ha! ha! that he should have stood Bluff to old
Bachelor so long and sink into a Husband at last!
ROWLEY. But you must not rally him on the subject Sir Oliver--'tis a
tender Point I assure you though He has been married only seven months.
SIR OLIVER. Ah then he has been just half a year on the stool
of Repentance--Poor Peter! But you say he has entirely given up
Charles--never sees him, hey?
ROWLEY. His Prejudice against him is astonishing--and I am sure greatly
increased by a jealousy of him with Lady Teazle--which he has
been industriously led into by a scandalous Society--in the
neighbourhood--who have contributed not a little to Charles's ill name.
Whereas the truth is[,] I believe[,] if the lady is partial to either of
them his Brother is the Favourite.
SIR OLIVER. Aye--I know--there are a set of malicious prating prudent
Gossips both male and Female, who murder characters to kill time, and
will rob a young Fellow of his good name before He has years to know the
value of it. . . but I am not to be prejudiced against my nephew by
such I promise you! No! no--if Charles has done nothing false or mean, I
shall compound for his extravagance.
ROWLEY. Then my life on't, you will reclaim him. Ah, Sir, it gives me
new vigour to find that your heart is not turned against him--and that
the son of my good old master has one friend however left--
SIR OLIVER. What! shall I forget Master Rowley--when I was at his
house myself--egad my Brother and I were neither of us very prudent
youths--and yet I believe you have not seen many better men than your
old master was[.]
ROWLEY. 'Tis this Reflection gives me assurance that Charles may yet be
a credit to his Family--but here comes Sir Peter----
SIR OLIVER. Egad so He does--mercy on me--He's greatly altered--and
seems to have a settled married look--one may read Husband in his Face
at this Distance.--
Enter SIR PETER
SIR PETER. Ha! Sir Oliver--my old Friend--welcome to England--a thousand
Times!
SIR OLIVER. Thank you--thank you--Sir Peter--and Efaith I am as glad to
find you well[,] believe me--
SIR PETER. Ah! 'tis a long time since we met--sixteen year I doubt Sir
Oliver--and many a cross accident in the Time--
SIR OLIVER. Aye I have had my share--but, what[!] I find you are
married--hey my old Boy--well--well it can't be help'd--and so I wish
you joy with all my heart--
SIR PETER. Thank you--thanks Sir Oliver.--Yes, I have entered into the
happy state but we'll not talk of that now.
SIR OLIVER. True true Sir Peter old Friends shouldn't begin on
grievances at first meeting. No, no--
ROWLEY. Take care pray Sir----
SIR OLIVER. Well--so one of my nephews I find is a wild Rogue--hey?
SIR PETER. Wild!--oh! my old Friend--I grieve for your disappointment
there--He's a lost young man indeed--however his Brother will make you
amends; Joseph is indeed what a youth should be--everybody in the world
speaks well of him--
SIR OLIVER. I am sorry to hear it--he has too good a character to be an
honest Fellow. Everybody speaks well of him! Psha! then He has bow'd as
low to Knaves and Fools as to the honest dignity of Virtue.
SIR PETER. What Sir Oliver do you blame him for not making Enemies?
SIR OLIVER. Yes--if He has merit enough to deserve them.
SIR PETER. Well--well--you'll be convinced when you know him--'tis
edification to hear him converse--he professes the noblest Sentiments.
SIR OLIVER. Ah plague on his Sentiments--if he salutes me with a scrap
sentence of morality in his mouth I shall be sick directly--but however
don't mistake me Sir Peter I don't mean to defend Charles's Errors--but
before I form my judgment of either of them, I intend to make a trial of
their Hearts--and my Friend Rowley and I have planned something for the
Purpose.
ROWLEY. And Sir Peter shall own he has been for once mistaken.
SIR PETER. My life on Joseph's Honour----
SIR OLIVER. Well come give us a bottle of good wine--and we'll drink the
Lads' Healths and tell you our scheme.
SIR PETER. Alons [Allons], then----
SIR OLIVER. But don't Sir Peter be so severe against your old Friend's
son.
SIR PETER. 'Tis his Vices and Follies have made me his Enemy.--
ROWLEY. Come--come--Sir Peter consider how early He was left to his own
guidance.
SIR OLIVER. Odds my Life--I am not sorry that He has run out of the
course a little--for my Part, I hate to see dry Prudence clinging to
the green juices of youth--'tis like ivy round a sapling and spoils the
growth of the Tree.
END OF THE SECOND ACT
ACT III
SCENE I.--At SIR PETER'S
SIR PETER, SIR OLIVER, and ROWLEY
SIR PETER. Well, then, we will see the Fellows first and have our wine
afterwards.--but how is this, Master Rowley--I don't see the Jet of your
scheme.
ROWLEY. Why Sir--this Mr. Stanley whom I was speaking of, is nearly
related to them by their mother. He was once a merchant in Dublin--but
has been ruined by a series of undeserved misfortunes--and now lately
coming over to solicit the assistance of his friends here--has been
flyng [flung] into prison by some of his Creditors--where he is now with
two helpless Boys.--
SIR OLIVER. Aye and a worthy Fellow too I remember him. But what is this
to lead to--?
ROWLEY. You shall hear--He has applied by letter both to Mr. Surface and
Charles--from the former he has received nothing but evasive promises
of future service, while Charles has done all that his extravagance has
left him power to do--and He is at this time endeavouring to raise a sum
of money--part of which, in the midst of his own distresses, I know He
intends for the service of poor Stanley.
SIR OLIVER. Ah! he is my Brother's Son.
SIR PETER. Well, but how is Sir Oliver personally to----
ROWLEY. Why Sir I will inform Charles and his Brother that Stanley has
obtain'd permission to apply in person to his Friends--and as they
have neither of them ever seen him[,] let Sir Oliver assume his
character--and he will have a fair opportunity of judging at least of
the Benevolence of their Dispositions.
SIR PETER. Pshaw! this will prove nothing--I make no doubt Charles is
Coxcomb and thoughtless enough to give money to poor relations if he had
it--
SIR OLIVER. Then He shall never want it--. I have brought a few Rupees
home with me Sir Peter--and I only want to be sure of bestowing them
rightly.--
ROWLEY. Then Sir believe me you will find in the youngest Brother one
who in the midst of Folly and dissipation--has still, as our immortal
Bard expresses it,--
"a Tear for Pity and a Hand open as the day for melting Charity."
SIR PETER. Pish! What signifies his having an open Hand or Purse
either when He has nothing left to give!--but if you talk of humane
Sentiments--Joseph is the man--Well, well, make the trial, if you
please. But where is the fellow whom you brought for Sir Oliver to
examine, relative to Charles's affairs?
ROWLEY. Below waiting his commands, and no one can give him better
intelligence--This, Sir Oliver, is a friendly Jew, who to do him
justice, has done everything in his power to bring your nephew to a
proper sense of his extravagance.
SIR PETER. Pray let us have him in.
ROWLEY. Desire Mr. Moses to walk upstairs.
[Calls to SERVANT.]
SIR PETER. But Pray why should you suppose he will speak the truth?
ROWLEY. Oh, I have convinced him that he has no chance of recovering
certain Sums advanced to Charles but through the bounty of Sir Oliver,
who He knows is arrived; so that you may depend on his Fidelity to his
interest. I have also another evidence in my Power, one Snake, whom I
shall shortly produce to remove some of YOUR Prejudices[,] Sir Peter[,]
relative to Charles and Lady Teazle.
SIR PETER. I have heard too much on that subject.
ROWLEY. Here comes the honest Israelite.
Enter MOSES
--This is Sir Oliver.
SIR OLIVER. Sir--I understand you have lately had great dealings with my
Nephew Charles.
MOSES. Yes Sir Oliver--I have done all I could for him, but He was
ruined before He came to me for Assistance.
SIR OLIVER. That was unlucky truly--for you have had no opportunity of
showing your Talents.
MOSES. None at all--I hadn't the Pleasure of knowing his Distresses till
he was some thousands worse than nothing, till it was impossible to add
to them.
SIR OLIVER. Unfortunate indeed! but I suppose you have done all in your
Power for him honest Moses?
MOSES. Yes he knows that--This very evening I was to have brought him a
gentleman from the city who does not know him and will I believe advance
some money.
SIR PETER. What[!] one Charles has never had money from before?
MOSES. Yes[--]Mr. Premium, of Crutched Friars.
SIR PETER. Egad, Sir Oliver a Thought strikes me!--Charles you say
does'nt know Mr. Premium?
MOSES. Not at all.
SIR PETER. Now then Sir Oliver you may have a better opportunity of
satisfying yourself than by an old romancing tale of a poor Relation--go
with my friend Moses and represent Mr. Premium and then I'll answer
for't you'll see your Nephew in all his glory.
SIR OLIVER. Egad I like this Idea better than the other, and I may visit
Joseph afterwards as old Stanley.
SIR PETER. True so you may.
ROWLEY. Well this is taking Charles rather at a disadvantage, to be
sure--however Moses--you understand Sir Peter and will be faithful----
MOSES. You may depend upon me--and this is near the Time I was to have
gone.
SIR OLIVER. I'll accompany you as soon as you please, Moses----but
hold--I have forgot one thing--how the plague shall I be able to pass
for a Jew?
MOSES. There's no need--the Principal is Christian.
SIR OLIVER. Is He--I'm very sorry to hear it--but then again--an't I
rather too smartly dressed to look like a money-Lender?
SIR PETER. Not at all; 'twould not be out of character, if you went in
your own carriage--would it, Moses!
MOSES. Not in the least.
SIR OLIVER. Well--but--how must I talk[?] there's certainly some cant of
usury and mode of treating that I ought to know.
SIR PETER. Oh, there's not much to learn--the great point as I take it
is to be exorbitant enough in your Demands hey Moses?
MOSES. Yes that's very great Point.
SIR OLIVER. I'll answer for't I'll not be wanting in that--I'll ask him
eight or ten per cent. on the loan--at least.
MOSES. You'll be found out directly--if you ask him no more than that,
you'll be discovered immediately.
SIR OLIVER. Hey!--what the Plague!--how much then?
MOSES. That depends upon the Circumstances--if he appears not very
anxious for the supply, you should require only forty or fifty per
cent.--but if you find him in great Distress, and want the monies very
bad--you may ask double.
SIR PETER. A good--[h]onest Trade you're learning, Sir Oliver--
SIR OLIVER. Truly, I think so--and not unprofitable--
MOSES. Then you know--you haven't the monies yourself, but are forced to
borrow them for him of a Friend.
SIR OLIVER. O I borrow it of a Friend do I?
MOSES. And your friend is an unconscion'd Dog--but you can't help it.
SIR OLIVER. My Friend's an unconscionable Dog, is he?
MOSES. Yes--and He himself hasn't the monies by him--but is forced to
sell stock--at a great loss--
SIR OLIVER. He is forced to sell stock is he--at a great loss, is
he--well that's very kind of him--
SIR PETER. Efaith, Sir Oliver--Mr. Premium I mean--you'll soon be master
of the Trade--but, Moses would have him inquire if the borrower is a
minor--
MOSES. O yes--
SIR PETER. And in that case his Conscience will direct him--
MOSES. To have the Bond in another Name to be sure.
SIR OLIVER. Well--well I shall be perfect--
SIR PETER. But hearkee wouldn't you have him also run out a little
against the annuity Bill--that would be in character I should think--
MOSES. Very much--
ROWLEY. And lament that a young man now must be at years of discretion
before He is suffered to ruin himself!
MOSES. Aye, great Pity!
SIR PETER. And abuse the Public for allowing merit to an act whose only
object is to snatch misfortune and imprudence from the rapacious Relief
of usury! and give the minor a chance of inheriting his estate without
being undone by coming into Possession.
SIR OLIVER. So--so--Moses shall give me further instructions as we go
together.
SIR PETER. You will not have much time[,] for your Nephew lives hard
bye--
SIR OLIVER. Oh Never--fear[:] my Tutor appears so able that tho' Charles
lived in the next street it must be my own Fault if I am not a compleat
Rogue before I turn the Corner--
[Exeunt SIR OLIVER and MOSES.]
SIR PETER. So--now I think Sir Oliver will be convinced--you shan't
follow them Rowley. You are partial and would have prepared Charles for
'tother plot.
ROWLEY. No upon my word Sir Peter--
SIR PETER. Well, go bring me this Snake, and I'll hear what he has to
say presently. I see Maria, and want to speak with her.--
[Exit ROWLEY.]
I should be glad to be convinced my suspicions of Lady Teazle and
Charles were unjust--I have never yet opened my mind on this subject to
my Friend Joseph. . . . I am determined. I will do it--He will give me
his opinion sincerely.--
Enter MARIA
So Child--has Mr. Surface returned with you--
MARIA. No Sir--He was engaged.
SIR PETER. Well--Maria--do you not reflect[,] the more you converse with
that amiable young man[,] what return his Partiality for you deserves?
MARIA. Indeed Sir Peter--your frequent importunity on this subject
distresses me extremely--you compell me to Declare that I know no man
who has ever paid me a particular Attention whom I would not prefer to
Mr. Surface--
SIR PETER. Soh! Here's Perverseness--no--no--Maria, 'tis Charles only
whom you would prefer--'tis evident his Vices and Follies have won your
Heart.
MARIA. This is unkind Sir--You know I have obey'd you in neither seeing
nor corresponding with him--I have heard enough to convince me that
He is unworthy my regard--Yet I cannot think it culpable--if while my
understanding severely condemns his Vices, my Heart suggests some Pity
for his Distresses.
SIR PETER. Well well pity him as much as you please, but give your Heart
and Hand to a worthier object.
MARIA. Never to his Brother!
SIR PETER. Go--perverse and obstinate! but take care, Madam--you have
never yet known what the authority of a Guardian is--don't compel me to
inform you of it.--
MARIA. I can only say, you shall not have just Reason--'tis true, by
my Father's will I am for a short period bound to regard you as his
substitute, but I must cease to think you so when you would compel me to
be miserable.
[Exit.]
SIR PETER. Was ever man so crossed as I am[?] everything conspiring to
fret me! I had not been involved in matrimony a fortnight[,] before
her Father--a hale and hearty man, died on purpose, I believe--for the
Pleasure of plaguing me with the care of his Daughter . . . but here
comes my Helpmate!--She appears in great good humour----how happy I
should be if I could teaze her into loving me tho' but a little----
Enter LADY TEAZLE
LADY TEAZLE. Lud! Sir Peter I hope you haven't been quarrelling with
Maria? It isn't using me well to be ill humour'd when I am not bye--!
SIR PETER. Ah! Lady Teazle you might have the Power to make me good
humour'd at all times--
LADY TEAZLE. I am sure--I wish I had--for I want you to be in a charming
sweet temper at this moment--do be good humour'd now--and let me have
two hundred Pounds will you?
SIR PETER. Two hundred Pounds! what an't I to be in a good humour
without paying for it--but speak to me thus--and Efaith there's nothing
I could refuse you. You shall have it--but seal me a bond for the
repayment.
LADY TEAZLE. O no--there--my Note of Hand will do as well--
SIR PETER. And you shall no longer reproach me with not giving you an
independent settlement--I shall shortly surprise you--and you'll not
call me ungenerous--but shall we always live thus--hey?
LADY TEAZLE. If you--please--I'm sure I don't care how soon we leave off
quarrelling provided you'll own you were tired first--
SIR PETER. Well--then let our future contest be who shall be most
obliging.
LADY TEAZLE. I assure you Sir Peter Good Nature becomes you--you look
now as you did before we were married--when you used to walk with me
under the Elms, and tell me stories of what a Gallant you were in your
youth--and chuck me under the chin you would--and ask me if I thought I
could love an old Fellow who would deny me nothing--didn't you?
SIR PETER. Yes--yes--and you were as kind and attentive----
LADY TEAZLE. Aye so I was--and would always take your Part, when my
acquaintance used to abuse you and turn you into ridicule--
SIR PETER. Indeed!
LADY TEAZLE. Aye--and when my cousin Sophy has called you a stiff
peevish old batchelor and laugh'd at me for thinking of marrying one who
might be my Father--I have always defended you--and said I didn't think
you so ugly by any means, and that you'd make a very good sort of a
husband--
SIR PETER. And you prophesied right--and we shall certainly now be the
happiest couple----
LADY TEAZLE. And never differ again.
SIR PETER. No never--tho' at the same time indeed--my dear Lady
Teazle--you must watch your Temper very narrowly--for in all our little
Quarrels--my dear--if you recollect my Love you always began first--
LADY TEAZLE. I beg your Pardon--my dear Sir Peter--indeed--you always
gave the provocation.
SIR PETER. Now--see, my Love take care--contradicting isn't the way to
keep Friends.
LADY TEAZLE. Then don't you begin it my Love!
SIR PETER. There now--you are going on--you don't perceive[,] my Life,
that you are just doing the very thing my Love which you know always
makes me angry.
LADY TEAZLE. Nay--you know if you will be angry without any reason--my
Dear----
SIR PETER. There now you want to quarrel again.
LADY TEAZLE. No--I am sure I don't--but if you will be so peevish----
SIR PETER. There--now who begins first?
LADY TEAZLE. Why you to be sure--I said nothing[--]but there's no
bearing your Temper.
SIR PETER. No--no--my dear--the fault's in your own temper.
LADY TEAZLE. Aye you are just what my Cousin Sophy said you would be--
SIR PETER. Your Cousin Sophy--is a forward impertinent Gipsey--
LADY TEAZLE. Go you great Bear--how dare you abuse my Relations--
SIR PETER. Now may all the Plagues of marriage be doubled on me, if ever
I try to be Friends with you any more----
LADY TEAZLE. So much the Better.
SIR PETER. No--no Madam 'tis evident you never cared a pin for me--I was
a madman to marry you--
LADY TEAZLE. And I am sure I was a Fooll to marry you--an old dangling
Batchelor, who was single of [at] fifty--only because He never could
meet with any one who would have him.
SIR PETER. Aye--aye--Madam--but you were pleased enough to listen to
me--you never had such an offer before--
LADY TEAZLE. No--didn't I refuse Sir Jeremy Terrier--who everybody
said would have been a better Match--for his estate is just as good as
yours--and he has broke his Neck since we have been married!
SIR PETER. I have done with you Madam! You are an
unfeeling--ungrateful--but there's an end of everything--I believe you
capable of anything that's bad--Yes, Madam--I now believe the Reports
relative to you and Charles--Madam--yes--Madam--you and Charles are--not
without grounds----
LADY TEAZLE. Take--care Sir Peter--you had better not insinuate any such
thing! I'll not be suspected without cause I promise you----
SIR PETER. Very--well--Madam--very well! a separate maintenance--as soon
as you Please. Yes Madam or a Divorce--I'll make an example of myself
for the Benefit of all old Batchelors--Let us separate, Madam.
LADY TEAZLE. Agreed--agreed--and now--my dear Sir Peter we are of a
mind again, we may be the happiest couple--and never differ again, you
know--ha! ha!--Well you are going to be in a Passion I see--and I shall
only interrupt you--so, bye! bye! hey--young Jockey try'd and countered.
[Exit.]
SIR PETER. Plagues and tortures! She pretends to keep her temper, can't
I make her angry neither! O! I am the miserable fellow! But I'll not
bear her presuming to keep her Temper--No she may break my Heart--but
she shan't keep her Temper.
[Exit.]