Scene I--ACRES' Lodgings.

Produced by Kent Cooper

The RIVALS

A Comedy

By Richard Brinsley Sheridan

* * * * * * *

PREFACE

A preface to a play seems generally to be considered as a kind of

closet-prologue, in which--if his piece has been successful--the author

solicits that indulgence from the reader which he had before

experienced from the audience: but as the scope and immediate object of

a play is to please a mixed assembly in _representation_ (whose

judgment in the theatre at least is decisive,) its degree of reputation

is usually as determined as public, before it can be prepared for the

cooler tribunal of the study. Thus any farther solicitude on the part

of the writer becomes unnecessary at least, if not an intrusion: and if

the piece has been condemned in the performance, I fear an address to

the closet, like an appeal to posterity, is constantly regarded as the

procrastination of a suit, from a consciousness of the weakness of the

cause. From these considerations, the following comedy would certainly

have been submitted to the reader, without any farther introduction

than what it had in the representation, but that its success has

probably been founded on a circumstance which the author is informed

has not before attended a theatrical trial, and which consequently

ought not to pass unnoticed.

I need scarcely add, that the circumstance alluded to was the

withdrawing of the piece, to remove those imperfections in the first

representation which were too obvious to escape reprehension, and too

numerous to admit of a hasty correction. There are few writers, I

believe, who, even in the fullest consciousness of error, do not wish

to palliate the faults which they acknowledge; and, however trifling

the performance, to second their confession of its deficiencies, by

whatever plea seems least disgraceful to their ability. In the present

instance, it cannot be said to amount either to candour or modesty in

me, to acknowledge an extreme inexperience and want of judgment on

matters, in which, without guidance from practice, or spur from

success, a young man should scarcely boast of being an adept. If it be

said, that under such disadvantages no one should attempt to write a

play, I must beg leave to dissent from the position, while the first

point of experience that I have gained on the subject is, a knowledge

of the candour and judgment with which an impartial public

distinguishes between the errors of inexperience and incapacity, and

the indulgence which it shows even to a disposition to remedy the

defects of either.

It were unnecessary to enter into any further extenuation of what was

thought exceptionable in this play, but that it has been said, that the

managers should have prevented some of the defects before its

appearance to the public--and in particular the uncommon length of the

piece as represented the first night. It were an ill return for the

most liberal and gentlemanly conduct on their side, to suffer any

censure to rest where none was deserved. Hurry in writing has long been

exploded as an excuse for an author;--however, in the dramatic line,

it may happen, that both an author and a manager may wish to fill a

chasm in the entertainment of the public with a hastiness not

altogether culpable. The season was advanced when I first put the play

into Mr. Harris's hands: it was at that time at least double the length

of any acting comedy. I profited by his judgment and experience in the

curtailing of it--till, I believe, his feeling for the vanity of a

young author got the better of his desire for correctness, and he left

many excrescences remaining, because he had assisted in pruning so many

more. Hence, though I was not uninformed that the acts were still too

long, I flattered myself that, after the first trial, I might with

safer judgment proceed to remove what should appear to have been most

dissatisfactory. Many other errors there were, which might in part have

arisen from my being by no means conversant with plays in general,

either in reading or at the theatre. Yet I own that, in one respect, I

did not regret my ignorance: for as my first wish in attempting a play

was to avoid every appearance of plagiary, I thought I should stand a

better chance of effecting this from being in a walk which I had not

frequented, and where, consequently, the progress of invention was less

likely to be interrupted by starts of recollection: for on subjects on

which the mind has been much informed, invention is slow of exerting

itself. Faded ideas float in the fancy like half-forgotten dreams; and

the imagination in its fullest enjoyments becomes suspicious of its

offspring, and doubts whether it has created or adopted.

With regard to some particular passages which on the first night's

representation seemed generally disliked, I confess, that if I felt any

emotion of surprise at the disapprobation, it was not that they were

disapproved of, but that I had not before perceived that they deserved

it. As some part of the attack on the piece was begun too early to pass

for the sentence of _judgment_, which is ever tardy in condemning, it

has been suggested to me, that much of the disapprobation must have

arisen from virulence of malice, rather than severity of criticism: but

as I was more apprehensive of there being just grounds to excite the

latter than conscious of having deserved the former, I continue not to

believe that probable, which I am sure must have been unprovoked.

However, if it was so, and I could even mark the quarter from whence it

came, it would be ungenerous to retort: for no passion suffers more

than malice from disappointment. For my own part, I see no reason why

the author of a play should not regard a first night's audience as a

candid and judicious friend attending, in behalf of the public, at his

last rehearsal. If he can dispense with flattery, he is sure at least

of sincerity, and even though the annotation be rude, he may rely upon

the justness of the comment. Considered in this light, that audience,

whose _fiat_ is essential to the poet's claim, whether his object be

fame or profit, has surely a right to expect some deference to its

opinion, from principles of politeness at least, if not from gratitude.

As for the little puny critics, who scatter their peevish strictures in

private circles, and scribble at every author who has the eminence of

being unconnected with them, as they are usually spleen-swoln from a

vain idea of increasing their consequence, there will always be found

a petulance and illiberality in their remarks, which should place them

as far beneath the notice of a gentleman, as their original dulness had

sunk them from the level of the most unsuccessful author.

It is not without pleasure that I catch at an opportunity of justifying

myself from the charge of intending any national reflection in the

character of Sir Lucius O'Trigger. If any gentlemen opposed the piece

from that idea, I thank them sincerely for their opposition; and if the

condemnation of this comedy (however misconceived the provocation)

could have added one spark to the decaying flame of national attachment

to the country supposed to be reflected on, I should have been happy in

its fate, and might with truth have boasted, that it had done more real

service in its failure, than the successful morality of a thousand

stage-novels will ever effect.

It is usual, I believe, to thank the performers in a new play, for the

exertion of their several abilities. But where (as in this instance)

their merit has been so striking and uncontroverted, as to call for the

warmest and truest applause from a number of judicious audiences, the

poet's after-praise comes like the feeble acclamation of a child to

close the shouts of a multitude. The conduct, however, of the

principals in a theatre cannot be so apparent to the public. I think

it therefore but justice to declare, that from this theatre (the only

one I can speak of from experience) those writers who wish to try the

dramatic line will meet with that candour and liberal attention, which

are generally allowed to be better calculated to lead genius into

excellence, than either the precepts of judgment, or the guidance of

experience.

The AUTHOR

* * * * * * *

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

As originally acted at COVENT GARDEN THEATRE in 1775

Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE

CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE

FAULKLAND

ACRES

Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER

FAG

DAVID

THOMAS

Mrs. MALAPROP

LYDIA LANGUISH

JULIA

LUCY

Maid, Boy, Servants, &c.

SCENE--Bath.

Time of action--Five hours.

* * * * * * *

PROLOGUE

By the AUTHOR

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

SERJEANT

What's here!--a vile cramp hand! I cannot see

Without my spectacles.

ATTORNEY

He means his fee.

Nay, Mr. Serjeant, good sir, try again. [Gives money.]

SERJEANT

The scrawl improves! [more] O come, 'tis pretty plain.

Hey! how's this? Dibble!--sure it cannot be!

A poet's brief! a poet and a fee!

ATTORNEY

Yes, sir! though you without reward, I know,

Would gladly plead the Muse's cause.

SERJEANT

So!--so!

ATTORNEY

And if the fee offends, your wrath should fall

On me.

SERJEANT

Dear Dibble, no offence at all.

ATTORNEY

Some sons of Phoebus in the courts we meet,

SERJEANT

And fifty sons of Phoebus in the Fleet!

ATTORNEY

Nor pleads he worse, who with a decent sprig

Of bays adorns his legal waste of wig.

SERJEANT

Full-bottom'd heroes thus, on signs, unfurl

A leaf of laurel in a grove of curl!

Yet tell your client, that, in adverse days,

This wig is warmer than a bush of bays.

ATTORNEY

Do you, then, sir, my client's place supply,

Profuse of robe, and prodigal of tie--

Do you, with all those blushing powers of face,

And wonted bashful hesitating grace,

Rise in the court, and flourish on the case. [Exit.]

SERJEANT

For practice then suppose--this brief will show it,--

Me, Serjeant Woodward,--counsel for the poet.

Used to the ground, I know 'tis hard to deal

With this dread court, from whence there's no appeal;

No tricking here, to blunt the edge of law,

Or, damn'd in equity, escape by flaw:

But judgment given, your sentence must remain;

No writ of error lies--to Drury Lane:

Yet when so kind you seem, 'tis past dispute

We gain some favour, if not costs of suit.

No spleen is here! I see no hoarded fury;--

I think I never faced a milder jury!

Sad else our plight! where frowns are transportation.

A hiss the gallows, and a groan damnation!

But such the public candour, without fear

My client waives all right of challenge here.

No newsman from our session is dismiss'd,

Nor wit nor critic we scratch off the list;

His faults can never hurt another's ease,

His crime, at worst, a bad attempt to please:

Thus, all respecting, he appeals to all,

And by the general voice will stand or fall.

* * * * * * *

Prologue

By the AUTHOR

SPOKEN ON THE TENTH NIGHT, BY MRS. BULKLEY.

Granted our cause, our suit and trial o'er,

The worthy serjeant need appear no more:

In pleasing I a different client choose,

He served the Poet--I would serve the Muse.

Like him, I'll try to merit your applause,

A female counsel in a female's cause.

Look on this form--where humour, quaint and sly,

Dimples the cheek, and points the beaming eye;

Where gay invention seems to boast its wiles

In amorous hint, and half-triumphant smiles;

While her light mask or covers satire's strokes,

Or hides the conscious blush her wit provokes.

Look on her well--does she seem form'd to teach?

Should you expect to hear this lady preach?

Is grey experience suited to her youth?

Do solemn sentiments become that mouth?

Bid her be grave, those lips should rebel prove

To every theme that slanders mirth or love.

Yet, thus adorn'd with every graceful art

To charm the fancy and yet reach the heart--

Must we displace her? And instead advance

The goddess of the woful countenance--

The sentimental Muse!--Her emblems view,

The Pilgrim's Progress, and a sprig of rue!

View her--too chaste to look like flesh and blood--

Primly portray'd on emblematic wood!

There, fix'd in usurpation, should she stand,

She'll snatch the dagger from her sister's hand:

And having made her votaries weep a flood,

Good heaven! she'll end her comedies in blood--

Bid Harry Woodward break poor Dunstal's crown!

Imprison Quick, and knock Ned Shuter down;

While sad Barsanti, weeping o'er the scene,

Shall stab herself--or poison Mrs. Green.

Such dire encroachments to prevent in time,

Demands the critic's voice--the poet's rhyme.

Can our light scenes add strength to holy laws!

Such puny patronage but hurts the cause:

Fair virtue scorns our feeble aid to ask;

And moral truth disdains the trickster's mask

For here their favourite stands, whose brow severe

And sad, claims youth's respect, and pity's tear;

Who, when oppress'd by foes her worth creates,

Can point a poniard at the guilt she hates.

* * * * * * * * * * *

THE RIVALS

* * * * * * * * * * *

ACT I

* * * * * * *

Scene I.--A street.

[Enter THOMAS; he crosses the stage; FAG follows, looking after him.]

FAG

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

THOMAS

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

FAG

Excuse my glove, Thomas:--I'm devilish glad to see you, my lad. Why, my

prince of charioteers, you look as hearty!--but who the deuce thought

of seeing you in Bath?

THOMAS

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

come.

FAG

Indeed!

THOMAS

Ay, master thought another fit of the gout was coming to make him a

visit;--so he'd a mind to gi't the slip, and whip! we were all off at

an hour's warning.

FAG

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

THOMAS

But tell us, Mr. Fag, how does young master? Odd! Sir Anthony will

stare to see the Captain here!

FAG

I do not serve Captain Absolute now.

THOMAS

Why sure!

FAG

At present I am employed by Ensign Beverley.

THOMAS

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

FAG

I have not changed, Thomas.

THOMAS

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

FAG

No.--Well, honest Thomas, I must puzzle you no farther:--briefly

then--Captain Absolute and Ensign Beverley are one and the same person.

THOMAS

The devil they are!

FAG

So it is indeed, Thomas; and the ensign half of my master being on

guard at present--the captain has nothing to do with me.

THOMAS

So, so!--What, this is some freak, I warrant!--Do tell us, Mr. Fag, the

meaning o't--you know I ha' trusted you.

FAG

You'll be secret, Thomas?

THOMAS

As a coach-horse.

FAG

Why then the cause of all this is--Love,--Love, Thomas, who (as you may

get read to you) has been a masquerader ever since the days of Jupiter.

THOMAS

Ay, ay;--I guessed there was a lady in the case:--but pray, why does

your master pass only for ensign?--Now if he had shammed general

indeed----

FAG

Ah! Thomas, there lies the mystery o' the matter. Hark'ee, Thomas, my

master is in love with a lady of a very singular taste: a lady who

likes him better as a half pay ensign than if she knew he was son and

heir to Sir Anthony Absolute, a baronet of three thousand a year.

THOMAS

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

she rich, hey?

FAG

Rich!--Why, I believe she owns half the stocks! Zounds! Thomas, she

could pay the national debt as easily as I could my washerwoman! She

has a lapdog that eats out of gold,--she feeds her parrot with small

pearls,--and all her thread-papers are made of bank-notes!

THOMAS

Bravo, faith!--Odd! I warrant she has a set of thousands at least:--but

does she draw kindly with the captain?

FAG

As fond as pigeons.

THOMAS

May one hear her name?

FAG

Miss Lydia Languish.--But there is an old tough aunt in the way;

though, by-the-by, she has never seen my master--for we got acquainted

with miss while on a visit in Gloucestershire.

THOMAS

Well--I wish they were once harnessed together in matrimony.--But pray,

Mr. Fag, what kind of a place is this Bath?--I ha' heard a deal of

it--here's a mort o' merrymaking, hey?

FAG

Pretty well, Thomas, pretty well--'tis a good lounge; in the morning we

go to the pump-room (though neither my master nor I drink the waters);

after breakfast we saunter on the parades, or play a game at billiards;

at night we dance; but damn the place, I'm tired of it: their regular

hours stupify me--not a fiddle nor a card after eleven!--However, Mr.

Faulkland's gentleman and I keep it up a little in private

parties;--I'll introduce you there, Thomas--you'll like him much.

THOMAS

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

FAG

I had forgot.--But, Thomas, you must polish a little--indeed you

must.--Here now--this wig!--What the devil do you do with a wig,

Thomas?--None of the London whips of any degree of _ton_ wear wigs now.

THOMAS

More's the pity! more's the pity! I say.--Odd's life! when I heard how

the lawyers and doctors had took to their own hair, I thought how

'twould go next:--odd rabbit it! when the fashion had got foot on the

bar, I guessed 'twould mount to the box!--but 'tis all out of

character, believe me, Mr. Fag: and look'ee, I'll never gi' up

mine--the lawyers and doctors may do as they will.

FAG

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

THOMAS

Why, bless you, the gentlemen of the professions ben't all of a

mind--for in our village now, thoff Jack Gauge, the exciseman, has

ta'en to his carrots, there's little Dick the farrier swears he'll

never forsake his bob, though all the college should appear with their

own heads!

FAG

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

THOMAS

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

FAG

No, no, that is Madam Lucy, my master's mistress's maid. They lodge at

that house--but I must after him to tell him the news.

THOMAS

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

FAG

Good-bye, Thomas. I have an appointment in Gyde's porch this evening at

eight; meet me there, and we'll make a little party.

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * *

Scene II.--A Dressing-room in Mrs. MALAPROP's Lodgings.

[LYDIA sitting on a sofa, with a book in her hand. Lucy, as just

returned from a message.]

LUCY

Indeed, ma'am, I traversed half the town in search of it: I don't

believe there's a circulating library in Bath I ha'n't been at.

LYDIA

And could not you get _The Reward of Constancy_?

LUCY

No, indeed, ma'am.

LYDIA

Nor _The Fatal Connexion_?

LUCY

No, indeed, ma'am.

LYDIA

Nor _The Mistakes of the Heart_?

LUCY

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

just fetched it away.

LYDIA

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

LUCY

Or, _The Memoirs of Lady Woodford_? Yes, indeed, ma'am. I asked every

where for it; and I might have brought it from Mr. Frederick's, but

Lady Slattern Lounger, who had just sent it home, had so soiled and

dog's-eared it, it wa'n't fit for a Christian to read.

LYDIA

Heigh-ho!--Yes, I always know when Lady Slattern has been before me.

She has a most observing thumb; and, I believe, cherishes her nails for

the convenience of making marginal notes.--Well, child, what have you

brought me?

LUCY

Oh! here, ma'am.--[Taking books from under her cloak, and from her

pockets.] This is _The Gordian Knot_,--and this _Peregrine Pickle_.

Here are _The Tears of Sensibility_, and _Humphrey Clinker_. This is

_The Memoirs of a Lady of Quality, written by herself_, and here the

second volume of _The Sentimental Journey_.

LYDIA

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

LUCY

The great one is only _The Whole Duty of Man_, where I press a few

blonds, ma'am.

LYDIA

Very well--give me the sal volatile.

LUCY

Is it in a blue cover, ma'am?

LYDIA

My smelling-bottle, you simpleton!

LUCY

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

LYDIA

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

[Exit LUCY.]

Surely I heard my cousin Julia's voice.

[Re-enter LUCY.]

LUCY

Lud! ma'am, here is Miss Melville.

LYDIA

Is it possible!----

[Exit LUCY.]

[Enter JULIA.]

LYDIA

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

this happiness!

JULIA

True, Lydia--and our pleasure is the greater.--But what has been the

matter?--you were denied to me at first!

LYDIA

Ah, Julia, I have a thousand things to tell you!--But first inform me

what has conjured you to Bath?--Is Sir Anthony here?

JULIA

He is--we are arrived within this hour--and I suppose he will be here

to wait on Mrs. Malaprop as soon as he is dressed.

LYDIA

Then before we are interrupted, let me impart to you some of my

distress!--I know your gentle nature will sympathize with me, though

your prudence may condemn me! My letters have informed you of my whole

connection with Beverley; but I have lost him, Julia! My aunt has

discovered our intercourse by a note she intercepted, and has confined

me ever since! Yet, would you believe it? she has absolutely fallen in

love with a tall Irish baronet she met one night since we have been

here, at Lady Macshuffle's rout.

JULIA

You jest, Lydia!

LYDIA

No, upon my word.--She really carries on a kind of correspondence with

him, under a feigned name though, till she chooses to be known to

him:--but it is a Delia or a Celia, I assure you.

JULIA

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

LYDIA

Quite the contrary. Since she has discovered her own frailty, she is

become more suspicious of mine. Then I must inform you of another

plague!--That odious Acres is to be in Bath to-day; so that I protest I

shall be teased out of all spirits!

JULIA

Come, come, Lydia, hope for the best--Sir Anthony shall use his

interest with Mrs. Malaprop.

LYDIA

But you have not heard the worst. Unfortunately I had quarrelled with

my poor Beverley, just before my aunt made the discovery, and I have

not seen him since, to make it up.

JULIA

What was his offence?

LYDIA

Nothing at all!--But, I don't know how it was, as often as we had been

together, we had never had a quarrel, and, somehow, I was afraid he

would never give me an opportunity. So, last Thursday, I wrote a letter

to myself, to inform myself that Beverley was at that time paying his

addresses to another woman. I signed it _your friend unknown_, showed

it to Beverley, charged him with his falsehood, put myself in a violent

passion, and vowed I'd never see him more.

JULIA

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

LYDIA

'Twas the next day my aunt found the matter out. I intended only to

have teased him three days and a half, and now I've lost him for ever.

JULIA

If he is as deserving and sincere as you have represented him to me, he

will never give you up so. Yet consider, Lydia, you tell me he is but

an ensign, and you have thirty thousand pounds.

LYDIA

But you know I lose most of my fortune if I marry without my aunt's

consent, till of age; and that is what I have determined to do, ever

since I knew the penalty. Nor could I love the man who would wish to

wait a day for the alternative.

JULIA

Nay, this is caprice!

LYDIA

What, does Julia tax me with caprice?--I thought her lover Faulkland

had inured her to it.

JULIA

I do not love even his faults.

LYDIA

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

JULIA

Not yet, upon my word--nor has he the least idea of my being in Bath.

Sir Anthony's resolution was so sudden, I could not inform him of it.

LYDIA

Well, Julia, you are your own mistress, (though under the protection of

Sir Anthony), yet have you, for this long year, been a slave to the

caprice, the whim, the jealousy of this ungrateful Faulkland, who will

ever delay assuming the right of a husband, while you suffer him to be

equally imperious as a lover.

JULIA

Nay, you are wrong entirely. We were contracted before my father's

death. That, and some consequent embarrassments, have delayed what I

know to be my Faulkland's most ardent wish. He is too generous to

trifle on such a point:--and for his character, you wrong him there,

too. No, Lydia, he is too proud, too noble to be jealous; if he is

captious, 'tis without dissembling; if fretful, without rudeness.

Unused to the fopperies of love, he is negligent of the little duties

expected from a lover--but being unhackneyed in the passion, his

affection is ardent and sincere; and as it engrosses his whole soul, he

expects every thought and emotion of his mistress to move in unison

with his. Yet, though his pride calls for this full return, his

humility makes him undervalue those qualities in him which would

entitle him to it; and not feeling why he should be loved to the degree

he wishes, he still suspects that he is not loved enough. This temper,

I must own, has cost me many unhappy hours; but I have learned to think

myself his debtor, for those imperfections which arise from the ardour

of his attachment.

LYDIA

Well, I cannot blame you for defending him. But tell me candidly,

Julia, had he never saved your life, do you think you should have been

attached to him as you are?--Believe me, the rude blast that overset

your boat was a prosperous gale of love to him.

JULIA

Gratitude may have strengthened my attachment to Mr. Faulkland, but I

loved him before he had preserved me; yet surely that alone were an

obligation sufficient.

LYDIA

Obligation! why a water spaniel would have done as much!--Well, I

should never think of giving my heart to a man because he could swim.

JULIA

Come, Lydia, you are too inconsiderate.

LYDIA

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

[Re-enter LUCY in a hurry.]

LUCY

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

LYDIA

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

[Exit LUCY.]

JULIA

Yet I must go. Sir Anthony does not know I am here, and if we meet,

he'll detain me, to show me the town. I'll take another opportunity of

paying my respects to Mrs. Malaprop, when she shall treat me, as long

as she chooses, with her select words so ingeniously misapplied,

without being mispronounced.

[Re-enter LUCY.]

LUCY

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

LYDIA

Well, I'll not detain you, coz.--Adieu, my dear Julia. I'm sure you are

in haste to send to Faulkland.--There--through my room you'll find

another staircase.

JULIA

Adieu! [Embraces LYDIA, and exit.]

LYDIA

Here, my dear Lucy, hide these books. Quick, quick!--Fling _Peregrine

Pickle_ under the toilet--throw _Roderick Random_ into the closet--put

_The Innocent Adultery_ into _The Whole Duty of Man_--thrust _Lord

Aimworth_ under the sofa--cram _Ovid_ behind the bolster--there--put

_The Man of Feeling_ into your pocket--so, so--now lay _Mrs. Chapone_

in sight, and leave _Fordyce's Sermons_ open on the table.

LUCY

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

Pride_.

LYDIA

Never mind--open at _Sobriety_.--Fling me _Lord Chesterfields

Letters_.--Now for 'em.

[Exit LUCY.]

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

There, Sir Anthony, there sits the deliberate simpleton who wants to

disgrace her family, and lavish herself on a fellow not worth a

shilling.

LYDIA

Madam, I thought you once----

Mrs. MALAPROP

You thought, miss! I don't know any business you have to think at

all--thought does not become a young woman. But the point we would

request of you is, that you will promise to forget this fellow--to

illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory.

LYDIA

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

to forget.

Mrs. MALAPROP

But I say it is, miss; there is nothing on earth so easy as to forget,

if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I have as much forgot

your poor dear uncle as if he had never existed--and I thought it my

duty so to do; and let me tell you, Lydia, these violent memories don't

become a young woman.

Sir ANTHONY

Why sure she won't pretend to remember what she's ordered not!--ay,

this comes of her reading!

LYDIA

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I

have proof controvertible of it.--But tell me, will you promise to do

as you're bid? Will you take a husband of your friends' choosing?

LYDIA

Madam, I must tell you plainly, that had I no preferment for any one

else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

Mrs. MALAPROP

What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don't

become a young woman; and you ought to know, that as both always wear

off, 'tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion. I am

sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage as if he'd been a

blackamoor--and yet, miss, you are sensible what a wife I made!--and

when it pleased Heaven to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears

I shed!--But suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you

promise us to give up this Beverley?

LYDIA

Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my actions

would certainly as far belie my words.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Take yourself to your room.--You are fit company for nothing but your

own ill-humours.

LYDIA

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

There's a little intricate hussy for you!

Sir ANTHONY

It is not to be wondered at, ma'am,--all this is the natural

consequence of teaching girls to read. Had I a thousand daughters, by

Heaven! I'd as soon have them taught the black art as their alphabet!

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

Sir ANTHONY

In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece's maid coming

forth from a circulating library!--She had a book in each hand--they

were half-bound volumes, with marble covers!--From that moment I

guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

Mrs. MALAPROP

Those are vile places, indeed!

Sir ANTHONY

Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of

diabolical knowledge! It blossoms through the year!--And depend on it,

Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will

long for the fruit at last.

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

Sir ANTHONY

Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation now, what would you have a woman

know?

Mrs. MALAPROP

Observe me, Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to

be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much learning becomes a

young woman; for instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek, or

Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or paradoxes, or such

inflammatory branches of learning--neither would it be necessary for

her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical

instruments.--But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to

a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice.

Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts;--and

as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might

know something of the contagious countries;--but above all, Sir

Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not

mis-spell, and mis-pronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do;

and likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is

saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know;--and I

don't think there is a superstitious article in it.

Sir ANTHONY

Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with

you; though I must confess, that you are a truly moderate and polite

arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side of the

question. But, Mrs. Malaprop, to the more important point in

debate--you say you have no objection to my proposal?

Mrs. MALAPROP

None, I assure you. I am under no positive engagement with Mr. Acres,

and as Lydia is so obstinate against him, perhaps your son may have

better success.

Sir ANTHONY

Well, madam, I will write for the boy directly. He knows not a syllable

of this yet, though I have for some time had the proposal in my head.

He is at present with his regiment.

Mrs. MALAPROP

We have never seen your son, Sir Anthony; but I hope no objection on

his side.

Sir ANTHONY

Objection!--let him object if he dare!--No, no, Mrs. Malaprop, Jack

knows that the least demur puts me in a frenzy directly. My process was

always very simple--in their younger days, 'twas "Jack, do this";--if

he demurred, I knocked him down--and if he grumbled at that, I always

sent him out of the room.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Ay, and the properest way, o' my conscience!--nothing is so

conciliating to young people as severity.--Well, Sir Anthony, I shall

give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your son's

invocations;--and I hope you will represent her to the captain as an

object not altogether illegible.

Sir ANTHONY

Madam, I will handle the subject prudently.--Well, I must leave you;

and let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this matter roundly to

the girl.--Take my advice--keep a tight hand: if she rejects this

proposal, clap her under lock and key; and if you were just to let the

servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four days, you can't

conceive how she'd come about. [Exit.]

Mrs. MALAPROP

Well, at any rate, I shall be glad to get her from under my intuition.

She has somehow discovered my partiality for Sir Lucius

O'Trigger--sure, Lucy can't have betrayed me!--No, the girl is such a

simpleton, I should have made her confess it.--Lucy!--Lucy!--[Calls.]

Had she been one of your artificial ones, I should never have trusted

her.

[Re-enter LUCY.]

LUCY

Did you call, ma'am?

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

LUCY

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

You are sure, Lucy, that you never mentioned----

LUCY

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

LUCY

No, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP

So, come to me presently, and I'll give you another letter to Sir

Lucius; but mind, Lucy--if ever you betray what you are entrusted with

(unless it be other people's secrets to me), you forfeit my malevolence

for ever; and your being a simpleton shall be no excuse for your

locality. [Exit.]

LUCY

Ha! ha! ha!--So, my dear Simplicity, let me give you a little

respite.--[Altering her manner.] Let girls in my station be as fond as

they please of appearing expert, and knowing in their trusts; commend

me to a mask of silliness, and a pair of sharp eyes for my own interest

under it!--Let me see to what account have I turned my simplicity

lately.--[Looks at a paper.] For _abetting Miss Lydia Languish in a

design of running away with an ensign!--in money, sundry times, twelve

pound twelve; gowns, five; hats, ruffles, caps, &c., &c.,

numberless!--From the said ensign, within this last month, six guineas

and a half_.--About a quarter's pay!--Item, _from Mrs. Malaprop, for

betraying the young people to her_--when I found matters were likely to

be discovered--_two guineas, and a black paduasoy._--Item, _from Mr.

Acres, for carrying divers letters_--which I never delivered--_two

guineas, and a pair of buckles._--Item, _from Sir Lucius O'Trigger,

three crowns, two gold pocket-pieces, and a silver snuff-box!_--Well

done, Simplicity!--Yet I was forced to make my Hibernian believe, that

he was corresponding, not with the aunt, but with the niece; for though

not over rich, I found he had too much pride and delicacy to sacrifice

the feelings of a gentleman to the necessities of his fortune. [Exit.]

* * * * * * * * * * *

ACT II

* * * * * * *

Scene I.--CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE's Lodgings.

[CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE and FAG.]

FAG

Sir, while I was there Sir Anthony came in: I told him you had sent me

to inquire after his health, and to know if he was at leisure to see

you.

ABSOLUTE

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

FAG

Sir, in my life I never saw an elderly gentleman more astonished! He

started back two or three paces, rapped out a dozen interjectural

oaths, and asked, what the devil had brought you here.

ABSOLUTE

Well, sir, and what did you say?

FAG

Oh, I lied, sir--I forgot the precise lie; but you may depend on't, he

got no truth from me. Yet, with submission, for fear of blunders in

future, I should be glad to fix what has brought us to Bath; in order

that we may lie a little consistently. Sir Anthony's servants were

curious, sir, very curious indeed.

ABSOLUTE

You have said nothing to them?

FAG

Oh, not a word, sir,--not a word! Mr. Thomas, indeed, the coachman

(whom I take to be the discreetest of whips)----

ABSOLUTE

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

FAG

Oh, no, sir--no--no--not a syllable, upon my veracity!--He was, indeed,

a little inquisitive; but I was sly, sir--devilish sly! My master (said

I), honest Thomas (you know, sir, one says honest to one's inferiors,)

is come to Bath to recruit--Yes, sir, I said to recruit--and whether

for men, money, or constitution, you know, sir, is nothing to him, nor

any one else.

ABSOLUTE

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

FAG

Oh, sir, recruit will do surprisingly--indeed, to give the thing an

air, I told Thomas, that your honour had already enlisted five

disbanded chairmen, seven minority waiters, and thirteen

billiard-markers.

ABSOLUTE

You blockhead, never say more than is necessary.

FAG

I beg pardon, sir--I beg pardon--but, with submission, a lie is nothing

unless one supports it. Sir, whenever I draw on my invention for a good

current lie, I always forge indorsements as well as the bill.

ABSOLUTE

Well, take care you don't hurt your credit, by offering too much

security.--Is Mr. Faulkland returned?

FAG

He is above, sir, changing his dress.

ABSOLUTE

Can you tell whether he has been informed of Sir Anthony and Miss

Melville's arrival?

FAG

I fancy not, sir; he has seen no one since he came in but his

gentleman, who was with him at Bristol.--I think, sir, I hear Mr.

Faulkland coming down----

ABSOLUTE

Go, tell him I am here.

FAG

Yes, sir.--[Going.] I beg pardon, sir, but should Sir Anthony call, you

will do me the favour to remember that we are recruiting, if you

please.

ABSOLUTE

Well, well.

FAG

And, in tenderness to my character, if your honour could bring in the

chairmen and waiters, I should esteem it as an obligation; for though I

never scruple a lie to serve my master, yet it hurts one's conscience

to be found out. [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE

Now for my whimsical friend--if he does not know that his mistress is

here, I'll tease him a little before I tell him----

[Enter FAULKLAND.]

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

return.

FAULKLAND

Yes; I had nothing to detain me, when I had finished the business I

went on. Well, what news since I left you? how stand matters between

you and Lydia?

ABSOLUTE

Faith, much as they were; I have not seen her since our quarrel;

however, I expect to be recalled every hour.

FAULKLAND

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

ABSOLUTE

What, and lose two-thirds of her fortune? you forget that, my

friend.--No, no, I could have brought her to that long ago.

FAULKLAND

Nay then, you trifle too long--if you are sure of her, propose to the

aunt in your own character, and write to Sir Anthony for his consent.

ABSOLUTE

Softly, softly; for though I am convinced my little Lydia would elope

with me as Ensign Beverley, yet am I by no means certain that she would

take me with the impediment of our friends' consent, a regular humdrum

wedding, and the reversion of a good fortune on my side: no, no; I must

prepare her gradually for the discovery, and make myself necessary to

her, before I risk it.--Well, but Faulkland, you'll dine with us to-day

at the hotel?

FAULKLAND

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

ABSOLUTE

By heavens! I shall forswear your company. You are the most teasing,

captious, incorrigible lover!--Do love like a man.

FAULKLAND

I own I am unfit for company.

ABSOLUTE

Am I not a lover; ay, and a romantic one too? Yet do I carry every

where with me such a confounded farrago of doubts, fears, hopes,

wishes, and all the flimsy furniture of a country miss's brain!

FAULKLAND

Ah! Jack, your heart and soul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on

one only object. You throw for a large stake, but losing, you could

stake and throw again;--but I have set my sum of happiness on this

cast, and not to succeed, were to be stripped of all.

ABSOLUTE

But, for heaven's sake! what grounds for apprehension can your

whimsical brain conjure up at present?

FAULKLAND

What grounds for apprehension, did you say? Heavens! are there not a

thousand! I fear for her spirits--her health--her life!--My absence may

fret her; her anxiety for my return, her fears for me may oppress her

gentle temper: and for her health, does not every hour bring me cause

to be alarmed? If it rains, some shower may even then have chilled her

delicate frame! If the wind be keen, some rude blast may have affected

her! The heat of noon, the dews of the evening, may endanger the life

of her, for whom only I value mine. O Jack! when delicate and feeling

souls are separated, there is not a feature in the sky, not a movement

of the elements, not an aspiration of the breeze, but hints some cause

for a lover's apprehension!

ABSOLUTE

Ay, but we may choose whether we will take the hint or not.--So, then,

Faulkland, if you were convinced that Julia were well and in spirits,

you would be entirely content?

FAULKLAND

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

ABSOLUTE

Then to cure your anxiety at once--Miss Melville is in perfect health,

and is at this moment in Bath.

FAULKLAND

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

ABSOLUTE

She is arrived here with my father within this hour.

FAULKLAND

Can you be serious?

ABSOLUTE

I thought you knew Sir Anthony better than to be surprised at a sudden

whim of this kind.--Seriously, then, it is as I tell you--upon my

honour.

FAULKLAND

My dear friend!--Hollo, Du-Peigne! my hat.--My dear Jack--now nothing

on earth can give me a moment's uneasiness.

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG

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

ABSOLUTE

Stay, Faulkland, this Acres lives within a mile of Sir Anthony, and he

shall tell you how your mistress has been ever since you left

her.--Fag, show this gentleman up.

[Exit FAG.]

FAULKLAND

What, is he much acquainted in the family?

ABSOLUTE

Oh, very intimate: I insist on your not going: besides, his character

will divert you.

FAULKLAND

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

ABSOLUTE

He is likewise a rival of mine--that is, of my other self's, for he

does not think his friend Captain Absolute ever saw the lady in

question; and it is ridiculous enough to hear him complain to me of one

Beverley, a concealed skulking rival, who----

FAULKLAND

Hush!--he's here.

[Enter ACRES.]

ACRES

Ha! my dear friend, noble captain, and honest Jack, how do'st thou?

just arrived, faith, as you see.--Sir, your humble servant.--Warm work

on the roads, Jack!--Odds whips and wheels! I've travelled like a

comet, with a tail of dust all the way as long as the Mall.

ABSOLUTE

Ah! Bob, you are indeed an eccentric planet, but we know your

attraction hither.--Give me leave to introduce Mr. Faulkland to you; Mr.

Faulkland, Mr. Acres.

ACRES

Sir, I am most heartily glad to see you: sir, I solicit your

connections.--Hey, Jack--what, this is Mr. Faulkland, who----

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Odso! she and your father can be but just arrived before me:--I suppose

you have seen them. Ah! Mr. Faulkland, you are indeed a happy man.

FAULKLAND

I have not seen Miss Melville yet, sir;--I hope she enjoyed full health

and spirits in Devonshire?

ACRES

Never knew her better in my life, sir,--never better. Odds blushes and

blooms! she has been as healthy as the German Spa.

FAULKLAND

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

ACRES

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

you.

FAULKLAND

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

myself ill.

ABSOLUTE

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

FAULKLAND

No, no, you misunderstand me: yet surely a little trifling

indisposition is not an unnatural consequence of absence from those we

love.--Now confess--isn't there something unkind in this violent,

robust, unfeeling health?

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Good apartments, Jack.

FAULKLAND

Well, sir, but you was saying that Miss Melville has been so

exceedingly well--what then she has been merry and gay, I

suppose?--Always in spirits--hey?

ACRES

Merry, odds crickets! she has been the belle and spirit of the company

wherever she has been--so lively and entertaining! so full of wit and

humour!

FAULKLAND

There, Jack, there.--Oh, by my soul! there is an innate levity in

woman, that nothing can overcome.--What! happy, and I away!

ABSOLUTE

Have done.--How foolish this is! just now you were only apprehensive

for your mistress' spirits.

FAULKLAND

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

ABSOLUTE

No, indeed, you have not.

FAULKLAND

Have I been lively and entertaining?

ABSOLUTE

Oh, upon my word, I acquit you.

FAULKLAND

Have I been full of wit and humour?

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

What's the matter with the gentleman?

ABSOLUTE

He is only expressing his great satisfaction at hearing that Julia has

been so well and happy--that's all--hey, Faulkland?

FAULKLAND

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

ACRES

That she has indeed--then she is so accomplished--so sweet a voice--so

expert at her harpsichord--such a mistress of flat and sharp,

squallante, rumblante, and quiverante!--There was this time month--odds

minims and crotchets! how she did chirrup at Mrs. Piano's concert!

FAULKLAND

There again, what say you to this? you see she has been all mirth and

song--not a thought of me!

ABSOLUTE

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

FAULKLAND

Well, well, it may be so.--Pray, Mr.--, what's his damned name?--Do you

remember what songs Miss Melville sung?

ACRES

Not I indeed.

ABSOLUTE

Stay, now, they were some pretty melancholy purling-stream airs, I

warrant; perhaps you may recollect;--did she sing, _When absent from my

soul's delight_?

ACRES

No, that wa'n't it.

ABSOLUTE

Or, _Go, gentle gales_! [Sings.]

ACRES

Oh, no! nothing like it. Odds! now I recollect one of them--_My heart's

my own, my will is free_. [Sings.]

FAULKLAND

Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on such a trifler!

'Sdeath! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to

soothe her light heart with catches and glees!--What can you say to

this, sir?

ABSOLUTE

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

FAULKLAND

Nay, nay, nay--I'm not sorry that she has been happy--no, no, I am glad

of that--I would not have had her sad or sick--yet surely a sympathetic

heart would have shown itself even in the choice of a song--she might

have been temperately healthy, and somehow, plaintively gay;--but she

has been dancing too, I doubt not!

ACRES

What does the gentleman say about dancing?

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

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

FAULKLAND

Hell and the devil! There!--there--I told you so! I told you so! Oh!

she thrives in my absence!--Dancing! but her whole feelings have been

in opposition with mine;--I have been anxious, silent, pensive,

sedentary--my days have been hours of care, my nights of

watchfulness.--She has been all health! spirit! laugh! song!

dance!--Oh! damned, damned levity!

ABSOLUTE

For Heaven's sake, Faulkland, don't expose yourself so!--Suppose she

has danced, what then?--does not the ceremony of society often oblige

----

FAULKLAND

Well, well, I'll contain myself--perhaps as you say--for form

sake.--What, Mr. Acres, you were praising Miss Melville's manner of

dancing a minuet--hey?

ACRES

Oh, I dare insure her for that--but what I was going to speak of was

her country-dancing. Odds swimmings! she has such an air with her!

FAULKLAND

Now disappointment on her!--Defend this, Absolute; why don't you defend

this?--Country-dances! jigs and reels! am I to blame now? A minuet I

could have forgiven--I should not have minded that--I say I should not

have regarded a minuet--but country-dances!--Zounds! had she made one

in a cotillion--I believe I could have forgiven even that--but to be

monkey-led for a night!--to run the gauntlet through a string of

amorous palming puppies!--to show paces like a managed filly!--Oh,

Jack, there never can be but one man in the world whom a truly modest

and delicate woman ought to pair with in a country-dance; and, even

then, the rest of the couples should be her great-uncles and aunts!

ABSOLUTE

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

FAULKLAND

If there be but one vicious mind in the set, 'twill spread like a

contagion--the action of their pulse beats to the lascivious movement

of the jig--their quivering, warm-breathed sighs impregnate the very

air--the atmosphere becomes electrical to love, and each amorous spark

darts through every link of the chain!--I must leave you--I own I am

somewhat flurried--and that confounded looby has perceived it. [Going.]

ABSOLUTE

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

FAULKLAND

Damn his news! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE

Ha! ha! ha! poor Faulkland five minutes since--"nothing on earth could

give him a moment's uneasiness!"

ACRES

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

ABSOLUTE

A little jealous, I believe, Bob.

ACRES

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

ABSOLUTE

There's nothing strange in that, Bob; let me tell you, that sprightly

grace and insinuating manner of yours will do some mischief among the

girls here.

ACRES

Ah! you joke--ha! ha! mischief--ha! ha! but you know I am not my own

property, my dear Lydia has forestalled me. She could never abide me in

the country, because I used to dress so badly--but odds frogs and

tambours! I shan't take matters so here, now ancient madam has no voice

in it: I'll make my old clothes know who's master. I shall straightway

cashier the hunting-frock, and render my leather breeches incapable. My

hair has been in training some time.

ABSOLUTE

Indeed!

ACRES

Ay--and tho'ff the side curls are a little restive, my hind-part takes

it very kindly.

ABSOLUTE

Ah, you'll polish, I doubt not.

ACRES

Absolutely I propose so--then if I can find out this Ensign Beverley,

odds triggers and flints! I'll make him know the difference o't.

ABSOLUTE

Spoke like a man! But pray, Bob, I observe you have got an odd kind of

a new method of swearing----

ACRES

Ha! ha! you've taken notice of it--'tis genteel, isn't it!--I didn't

invent it myself though; but a commander in our militia, a great

scholar, I assure you, says that there is no meaning in the common

oaths, and that nothing but their antiquity makes them

respectable;--because, he says, the ancients would never stick to an

oath or two, but would say, by Jove! or by Bacchus! or by Mars! or by

Venus! or by Pallas, according to the sentiment: so that to swear with

propriety, says my little major, the oath should be an echo to the

sense; and this we call the _oath referential_, or _sentimental

swearing_--ha! ha! 'tis genteel, isn't it?

ABSOLUTE

Very genteel, and very new, indeed!--and I dare say will supplant all

other figures of imprecation.

ACRES

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

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG

Sir, there is a gentleman below desires to see you.--Shall I show him

into the parlour?

ABSOLUTE

Ay--you may.

ACRES

Well, I must be gone----

ABSOLUTE

Stay; who is it, Fag?

FAG

Your father, sir.

ABSOLUTE

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

[Exit FAG.]

ACRES

You have business with Sir Anthony.--I expect a message from Mrs.

Malaprop at my lodgings. I have sent also to my dear friend Sir Lucius

O'Trigger. Adieu, Jack! we must meet at night, when you shall give me a

dozen bumpers to little Lydia.

ABSOLUTE

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

[Exit ACRES.]

Now for a parental lecture--I hope he has heard nothing of the business

that brought me here--I wish the gout had held him fast in Devonshire,

with all my soul!

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Sir I am delighted to see you here; looking so well! your sudden

arrival at Bath made me apprehensive for your health.

Sir ANTHONY

Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack.--What, you are recruiting here,

hey?

ABSOLUTE

Yes, sir, I am on duty.

Sir ANTHONY

Well, Jack, I am glad to see you, though I did not expect it, for I

was going to write to you on a little matter of business.--Jack, I have

been considering that I grow old and infirm, and shall probably not

trouble you long.

ABSOLUTE

Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong and hearty; and I pray

frequently that you may continue so.

Sir ANTHONY

I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my heart. Well, then, Jack,

I have been considering that I am so strong and hearty I may continue

to plague you a long time. Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of

your commission, and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small

pittance for a lad of your spirit.

ABSOLUTE

Sir, you are very good.

Sir ANTHONY

And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy make some figure in

the world. I have resolved, therefore, to fix you at once in a noble

independence.

ABSOLUTE

Sir, your kindness overpowers me--such generosity makes the gratitude

of reason more lively than the sensations even of filial affection.

Sir ANTHONY

I am glad you are so sensible of my attention--and you shall be master

of a large estate in a few weeks.

ABSOLUTE

Let my future life, sir, speak my gratitude; I cannot express the sense

I have of your munificence.--Yet, sir, I presume you would not wish me

to quit the army?

Sir ANTHONY

Oh, that shall be as your wife chooses.

ABSOLUTE

My wife, sir!

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

A wife, sir, did you say?

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

Not a word of her, sir.

Sir ANTHONY

Odd so!--I mustn't forget her though.--Yes, Jack, the independence I

was talking of is by marriage--the fortune is saddled with a wife--but

I suppose that makes no difference.

ABSOLUTE

Sir! sir!--you amaze me!

Sir ANTHONY

Why, what the devil's the matter with the fool? Just now you were all

gratitude and duty.

ABSOLUTE

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

word of a wife.

Sir ANTHONY

Why--what difference does that make? Odds life, sir! if you have the

estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it stands.

ABSOLUTE

If my happiness is to be the price, I must beg leave to decline the

purchase.--Pray, sir, who is the lady?

Sir ANTHONY

What's that to you, sir?--Come, give me your promise to love, and to

marry her directly.

ABSOLUTE

Sure, sir, this is not very reasonable, to summon my affections for a

lady I know nothing of!

Sir ANTHONY

I am sure, sir, 'tis more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you

know nothing of.

ABSOLUTE

Then, sir, I must tell you plainly that my inclinations are fixed on

another--my heart is engaged to an angel.

Sir ANTHONY

Then pray let it send an excuse. It is very sorry--but business

prevents its waiting on her.

ABSOLUTE

But my vows are pledged to her.

Sir ANTHONY

Let her foreclose, Jack; let her foreclose; they are not worth

redeeming; besides, you have the angel's vows in exchange, I suppose;

so there can be no loss there.

ABSOLUTE

You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that in this

point I cannot obey you.

Sir ANTHONY

Hark'ee, Jack;--I have heard you for some time with patience--I have

been cool--quite cool; but take care--you know I am compliance

itself--when I am not thwarted;--no one more easily led--when I have my

own way;--but don't put me in a frenzy.

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

Nay, sir, but hear me.

Sir ANTHONY

Sir, I won't hear a word--not a word! not one word! so give me your

promise by a nod--and I'll tell you what, Jack--I mean, you dog--if you

don't, by----

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a

hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one

eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum; she shall have a skin

like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew--she shall be all this,

sirrah!--yet I will make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to

write sonnets on her beauty.

ABSOLUTE

This is reason and moderation indeed!

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

'Tis false, sir, I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you'll

grin when I am gone, sirrah!

ABSOLUTE

Sir, I hope I know my duty better.

Sir ANTHONY

None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please!--It

won't do with me, I promise you.

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

'Tis a confounded lie!--I know you are in a passion in your heart; I

know you are, you hypocritical young dog! but it won't do.

ABSOLUTE

Nay, sir, upon my word----

Sir ANTHONY

So you will fly out! can't you be cool like me? What the devil good can

passion do?--Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent,

overbearing reprobate!--There, you sneer again! don't provoke me!--but

you rely upon the mildness of my temper--you do, you dog! you play upon

the meekness of my disposition!--Yet take care--the patience of a saint

may be overcome at last!--but mark! I give you six hours and a half to

consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do every

thing on earth that I choose, why--confound you! I may in time forgive

you.--If not, zounds! don't enter the same hemisphere with me! don't

dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an

atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission;

I'll lodge a five-and-threepence in the hands of trustees, and you

shall live on the interest.--I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you, I'll

unget you! and damn me! if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE

Mild, gentle, considerate father--I kiss your hands!--What a tender

method of giving his opinion in these matters Sir Anthony has! I dare

not trust him with the truth.--I wonder what old wealthy hag it is that

he wants to bestow on me!--Yet he married himself for love! and was in

his youth a bold intriguer, and a gay companion!

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG

Assuredly, sir, your father is wrath to a degree; he comes down stairs

eight or ten steps at a time--muttering, growling, and thumping the

banisters all the way: I and the cook's dog stand bowing at the

door--rap! he gives me a stroke on the head with his cane; bids me

carry that to my master; then kicking the poor turnspit into the area,

damns us all, for a puppy triumvirate!--Upon my credit, sir, were I in

your place, and found my father such very bad company, I should

certainly drop his acquaintance.

ABSOLUTE

Cease your impertinence, sir, at present.--Did you come in for nothing

more?--Stand out of the way! [Pushes him aside, and exit.]

FAG

So! Sir Anthony trims my master; he is afraid to reply to his

father--then vents his spleen on poor Fag!--When one is vexed by one

person, to revenge one's self on another, who happens to come in the

way, is the vilest injustice! Ah! it shows the worst temper--the

basest----

[Enter BOY.]

BOY

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

FAG

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

disposition! the----

BOY

Quick, quick, Mr. Fag!

FAG

Quick! quick! you impudent jackanapes! am I to be commanded by you too?

you little impertinent, insolent, kitchen-bred---- [Exit kicking and

beating him.]

* * * * * * *

Scene II.--The North Parade.

[Enter LUCY.]

LUCY

So--I shall have another rival to add to my mistress's list--Captain

Absolute. However, I shall not enter his name till my purse has

received notice in form. Poor Acres is dismissed!--Well, I have done

him a last friendly office, in letting him know that Beverley was here

before him.--Sir Lucius is generally more punctual, when he expects to

hear from his _dear Delia_, as he calls her: I wonder he's not

here!--I have a little scruple of conscience from this deceit; though I

should not be paid so well, if my hero knew that Delia was near fifty,

and her own mistress.

[Enter Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER.]

Sir LUCIUS

Ha! my little ambassadress--upon my conscience, I have been looking for

you; I have been on the South Parade this half hour.

LUCY

[Speaking simply.] O gemini! and I have been waiting for your worship

here on the North.

Sir LUCIUS

Faith!--may be that was the reason we did not meet; and it is very

comical too, how you could go out and I not see you--for I was only

taking a nap at the Parade Coffee-house, and I chose the window on

purpose that I might not miss you.

LUCY

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

Sir LUCIUS

Sure enough it must have been so--and I never dreamt it was so late,

till I waked. Well, but my little girl, have you got nothing for me?

LUCY

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

Sir LUCIUS

O faith! I guessed you weren't come empty-handed--Well--let me see what

the dear creature says.

LUCY

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

Sir LUCIUS

[Reads.] _Sir--there is often a sudden incentive impulse in love, that

has a greater induction than years of domestic combination: such was

the commotion I felt at the first superfluous view of Sir Lucius

O'Trigger._--Very pretty, upon my word.--_Female punctuation forbids me

to say more, yet let me add, that it will give me joy infallible to

find Sir Lucius worthy the last criterion of my affections. Delia._

Upon my conscience! Lucy, your lady is a great mistress of language.

Faith, she's quite the queen of the dictionary!--for the devil a word

dare refuse coming at her call--though one would think it was quite out

of hearing.

LUCY

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

Sir LUCIUS

Experience! what, at seventeen?

LUCY

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

hand!

Sir LUCIUS

Faith, she must be very deep read to write this way--though she is

rather an arbitrary writer too--for here are a great many poor words

pressed into the service of this note, that would get their _habeas

corpus_ from any court in Christendom.

LUCY

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

Sir LUCIUS

Oh, tell her I'll make her the best husband in the world, and Lady

O'Trigger into the bargain!--But we must get the old gentlewoman's

consent--and do every thing fairly.

LUCY

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

Sir LUCIUS

Upon my word, young woman, you have hit it:--I am so poor, that I can't

afford to do a dirty action.--If I did not want money, I'd steal your

mistress and her fortune with a great deal of pleasure.--However, my

pretty girl, [Gives her money] here's a little something to buy you a

ribbon; and meet me in the evening, and I'll give you an answer to

this. So, hussy, take a kiss beforehand to put you in mind. [Kisses

her.]

LUCY

O Lud! Sir Lucius--I never seed such a gemman! My lady won't like you

if you're so impudent.

Sir LUCIUS

Faith she will, Lucy!--That same--pho! what's the name of

it?--modesty--is a quality in a lover more praised by the women than

liked; so, if your mistress asks you whether Sir Lucius ever gave you a

kiss, tell her fifty--my dear.

LUCY

What, would you have me tell her a lie?

Sir LUCIUS

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

LUCY

For shame now! here is some one coming.

Sir LUCIUS

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

[Enter FAG.]

FAG

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

LUCY

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

FAG

Come, come, Lucy, here's no one by--so a little less simplicity, with a

grain or two more sincerity, if you please.--You play false with us,

madam.--I saw you give the baronet a letter.--My master shall know

this--and if he don't call him out, I will.

LUCY

Ha! ha! ha! you gentlemen's gentlemen are so hasty.--That letter was

from Mrs. Malaprop, simpleton.--She is taken with Sir Lucius's address.

FAG

How! what tastes some people have!--Why, I suppose I have walked by her

window a hundred times.--But what says our young lady? any message to

my master?

LUCY

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

proposed his son.

FAG

What, Captain Absolute?

LUCY

Even so--I overheard it all.

FAG

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

news.

LUCY

Well, you may laugh--but it is true, I assure you.--[Going.] But, Mr.

Fag, tell your master not to be cast down by this.

FAG

Oh, he'll be so disconsolate!

LUCY

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

FAG

Never fear! never fear!

LUCY

Be sure--bid him keep up his spirits.

FAG

We will--we will.

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * * * * * *

ACT III

* * * * * * *

Scene I--The North Parade.

[Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

ABSOLUTE

'Tis just as Fag told me, indeed. Whimsical enough, faith! My father

wants to force me to marry the very girl I am plotting to run away

with! He must not know of my connection with her yet awhile. He has too

summary a method of proceeding in these matters. However, I'll read my

recantation instantly. My conversion is something sudden, indeed--but I

can assure him it is very sincere. So, so--here he comes. He looks

plaguy gruff. [Steps aside.]

[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

Sir ANTHONY

No--I'll die sooner than forgive him. Die, did I say? I'll live these

fifty years to plague him. At our last meeting, his impudence had

almost put me out of temper. An obstinate, passionate, self-willed boy!

Who can he take after? This is my return for getting him before all his

brothers and sisters!--for putting him, at twelve years old, into a

marching regiment, and allowing him fifty pounds a year, besides his

pay, ever since! But I have done with him; he's anybody's son for me. I

never will see him more, never--never--never.

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

Fellow, get out of my way!

ABSOLUTE

Sir, you see a penitent before you.

Sir ANTHONY

I see an impudent scoundrel before me.

ABSOLUTE

A sincere penitent. I am come, sir, to acknowledge my error, and to

submit entirely to your will.

Sir ANTHONY

What's that?

ABSOLUTE

I have been revolving, and reflecting, and considering on your past

goodness, and kindness, and condescension to me.

Sir ANTHONY

Well, sir?

ABSOLUTE

I have been likewise weighing and balancing what you were pleased to

mention concerning duty, and obedience, and authority.

Sir ANTHONY

Well, puppy?

ABSOLUTE

Why then, sir, the result of my reflections is--a resolution to

sacrifice every inclination of my own to your satisfaction.

Sir ANTHONY

Why now you talk sense--absolute sense--I never heard anything more

sensible in my life. Confound you! you shall be Jack again.

ABSOLUTE

I am happy in the appellation.

Sir ANTHONY

Why then, Jack, my dear Jack, I will now inform you who the lady really

is. Nothing but your passion and violence, you silly fellow, prevented

my telling you at first. Prepare, Jack, for wonder and rapture--prepare.

What think you of Miss Lydia Languish?

ABSOLUTE

Languish! What, the Languishes of Worcestershire?

Sir ANTHONY

Worcestershire! no. Did you never meet Mrs. Malaprop and her niece,

Miss Languish, who came into our country just before you were last

ordered to your regiment?

ABSOLUTE

Malaprop! Languish! I don't remember ever to have heard the names

before. Yet, stay--I think I do recollect something. Languish!

Languish! She squints, don't she? A little red-haired girl?

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

As to that, sir, I am quite indifferent. If I can please you in the

matter, 'tis all I desire.

Sir ANTHONY

Nay, but Jack, such eyes! such eyes! so innocently wild! so bashfully

irresolute! not a glance but speaks and kindles some thought of love!

Then, Jack, her cheeks! her cheeks, Jack! so deeply blushing at the

insinuations of her tell-tale eyes! Then, Jack, her lips! O, Jack, lips

smiling at their own discretion; and if not smiling, more sweetly

pouting; more lovely in sullenness!

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

Then, Jack, her neck! O Jack! Jack!

ABSOLUTE

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

Sir ANTHONY

Why, you unfeeling, insensible puppy, I despise you! When I was of your

age, such a description would have made me fly like a rocket! The aunt

indeed! Odds life! when I ran away with your mother, I would not have

touched anything old or ugly to gain an empire.

ABSOLUTE

Not to please your father, sir?

Sir ANTHONY

To please my father! zounds! not to please--Oh, my father--odd

so!--yes--yes; if my father indeed had desired--that's quite another

matter. Though he wa'n't the indulgent father that I am, Jack.

ABSOLUTE

I dare say not, sir.

Sir ANTHONY

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

ABSOLUTE

Sir, I repeat it--if I please you in this affair, 'tis all I desire.

Not that I think a woman the worse for being handsome; but, sir, if you

please to recollect, you before hinted something about a hump or two,

one eye, and a few more graces of that kind--now, without being very

nice, I own I should rather choose a wife of mine to have the usual

number of limbs, and a limited quantity of back: and though one eye may

be very agreeable, yet as the prejudice has always run in favour of

two, I would not wish to affect a singularity in that article.

Sir ANTHONY

What a phlegmatic sot it is! Why, sirrah, you're an anchorite!--a vile,

insensible stock. You a soldier!--you're a walking block, fit only to

dust the company's regimentals on! Odds life! I have a great mind to

marry the girl myself!

ABSOLUTE

I am entirely at your disposal, sir: if you should think of addressing

Miss Languish yourself, I suppose you would have me marry the aunt; or

if you should change your mind, and take the old lady--'tis the same to

me--I'll marry the niece.

Sir ANTHONY

Upon my word, Jack, thou'rt either a very great hypocrite, or--but,

come, I know your indifference on such a subject must be all a lie--I'm

sure it must--come, now--damn your demure face!--come, confess

Jack--you have been lying, ha'n't you? You have been playing the

hypocrite, hey!--I'll never forgive you, if you ha'n't been lying and

playing the hypocrite.

ABSOLUTE

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

so mistaken.

Sir ANTHONY

Hang your respect and duty! But come along with me, I'll write a note

to Mrs. Malaprop, and you shall visit the lady directly. Her eyes shall

be the Promethean torch to you--come along, I'll never forgive you, if

you don't come back stark mad with rapture and impatience--if you

don't, egad, I will marry the girl myself!

[Exeunt.]

* * * * * * *

Scene II--JULIA's Dressing-room.

[FAULKLAND discovered alone.]

FAULKLAND

They told me Julia would return directly; I wonder she is not yet come!

How mean does this captious, unsatisfied temper of mine appear to my

cooler judgment! Yet I know not that I indulge it in any other point:

but on this one subject, and to this one subject, whom I think I love

beyond my life, I am ever ungenerously fretful and madly capricious! I

am conscious of it--yet I cannot correct myself! What tender honest joy

sparkled in her eyes when we met! how delicate was the warmth of her

expression! I was ashamed to appear less happy--though I had come

resolved to wear a face of coolness and upbraiding. Sir Anthony's

presence prevented my proposed expostulations: yet I must be satisfied

that she has not been so very happy in my absence. She is coming!

Yes!--I know the nimbleness of her tread, when she thinks her impatient

Faulkland counts the moments of her stay.

[Enter JULIA.]

JULIA

I had not hoped to see you again so soon.

FAULKLAND

Could I, Julia, be contented with my first welcome--restrained as we

were by the presence of a third person?

JULIA

O Faulkland, when your kindness can make me thus happy, let me not

think that I discovered something of coldness in your first salutation.

FAULKLAND

'Twas but your fancy, Julia. I was rejoiced to see you--to see you in

such health. Sure I had no cause for coldness?

JULIA

Nay, then, I see you have taken something ill. You must not conceal

from me what it is.

FAULKLAND

Well, then--shall I own to you that my joy at hearing of your health

and arrival here, by your neighbour Acres, was somewhat damped by his

dwelling much on the high spirits you had enjoyed in Devonshire--on

your mirth--your singing--dancing, and I know not what! For such is my

temper, Julia, that I should regard every mirthful moment in your

absence as a treason to constancy. The mutual tear that steals down the

cheek of parting lovers is a compact, that no smile shall live there

till they meet again.

JULIA

Must I never cease to tax my Faulkland with this teasing minute

caprice? Can the idle reports of a silly boor weigh in your breast

against my tried affections?

FAULKLAND

They have no weight with me, Julia: No, no--I am happy if you have been

so--yet only say, that you did not sing with mirth--say that you

thought of Faulkland in the dance.

JULIA

I never can be happy in your absence. If I wear a countenance of

content, it is to show that my mind holds no doubt of my Faulkland's

truth. If I seemed sad, it were to make malice triumph; and say, that I

had fixed my heart on one, who left me to lament his roving, and my own

credulity. Believe me, Faulkland, I mean not to upbraid you, when I

say, that I have often dressed sorrow in smiles, lest my friends should

guess whose unkindness had caused my tears.

FAULKLAND

You were ever all goodness to me. Oh, I am a brute, when I but admit a

doubt of your true constancy!

JULIA

If ever without such cause from you, as I will not suppose possible,

you find my affections veering but a point, may I become a proverbial

scoff for levity and base ingratitude.

FAULKLAND

Ah! Julia, that last word is grating to me. I would I had no title to

your gratitude! Search your heart, Julia; perhaps what you have

mistaken for love, is but the warm effusion of a too thankful heart.

JULIA

For what quality must I love you?

FAULKLAND

For no quality! To regard me for any quality of mind or understanding,

were only to esteem me. And for person--I have often wished myself

deformed, to be convinced that I owed no obligation there for any part

of your affection.

JULIA

Where nature has bestowed a show of nice attention in the features of a

man, he should laugh at it as misplaced. I have seen men, who in this

vain article, perhaps, might rank above you; but my heart has never

asked my eyes if it were so or not.

FAULKLAND

Now this is not well from you, Julia--I despise person in a man--yet if

you loved me as I wish, though I were an AEthiop, you'd think none so

fair.

JULIA

I see you are determined to be unkind! The contract which my poor

father bound us in gives you more than a lover's privilege.

FAULKLAND

Again, Julia, you raise ideas that feed and justify my doubts. I would

not have been more free--no--I am proud of my restraint.

Yet--yet--perhaps your high respect alone for this solemn compact has

fettered your inclinations, which else had made a worthier choice. How

shall I be sure, had you remained unbound in thought and promise, that

I should still have been the object of your persevering love?

JULIA

Then try me now. Let us be free as strangers as to what is past: my

heart will not feel more liberty!

FAULKLAND

There now! so hasty, Julia! so anxious to be free! If your love for me

were fixed and ardent, you would not lose your hold, even though I

wished it!

JULIA

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

FAULKLAND

I do not mean to distress you. If I loved you less I should never give

you an uneasy moment. But hear me. All my fretful doubts arise from

this. Women are not used to weigh and separate the motives of their

affections: the cold dictates of prudence, gratitude, or filial duty,

may sometimes be mistaken for the pleadings of the heart. I would not

boast--yet let me say, that I have neither age, person, nor character,

to found dislike on; my fortune such as few ladies could be charged

with indiscretion in the match. O Julia! when love receives such

countenance from prudence, nice minds will be suspicious of its birth.

JULIA

I know not whither your insinuations would tend:--but as they seem

pressing to insult me, I will spare you the regret of having done

so.--I have given you no cause for this! [Exit in tears.]

FAULKLAND

In tears! Stay, Julia: stay but for a moment.--The door is

fastened!--Julia!--my soul--but for one moment!--I hear her

sobbing!--'Sdeath! what a brute am I to use her thus! Yet

stay!--Ay--she is coming now:--how little resolution there is in a

woman!--how a few soft words can turn them!--No, faith!--she is not

coming either.--Why, Julia--my love--say but that you forgive me--come

but to tell me that--now this is being too resentful. Stay! she is

coming too--I thought she would--no steadiness in anything: her going

away must have been a mere trick then--she shan't see that I was hurt

by it.--I'll affect indifference--[Hums a tune; then listens.]

No--zounds! she's not coming!--nor don't intend it, I suppose.--This is

not steadiness, but obstinacy! Yet I deserve it.--What, after so long

an absence to quarrel with her tenderness!--'twas barbarous and

unmanly!--I should be ashamed to see her now.--I'll wait till her just

resentment is abated--and when I distress her so again, may I lose her

for ever! and be linked instead to some antique virago, whose gnawing

passions, and long hoarded spleen, shall make me curse my folly half

the day and all the night. [Exit.]

* * * * * * *

Scene III--Mrs. MALAPROP's Lodgings.

[Mrs. MALAPROP, with a letter in her hand, and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

Mrs. MALAPROP

Your being Sir Anthony's son, captain, would itself be a sufficient

accommodation; but from the ingenuity of your appearance, I am

convinced you deserve the character here given of you.

ABSOLUTE

Permit me to say, madam, that as I never yet have had the pleasure of

seeing Miss Languish, my principal inducement in this affair at present

is the honour of being allied to Mrs. Malaprop; of whose intellectual

accomplishments, elegant manners, and unaffected learning, no tongue is

silent.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Sir, you do me infinite honour! I beg, captain, you'll be

seated.--[They sit.] Ah! few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value

the ineffectual qualities in a woman! few think how a little knowledge

becomes a gentlewoman!--Men have no sense now but for the worthless

flower of beauty!

ABSOLUTE

It is but too true, indeed, ma'am;--yet I fear our ladies should share

the blame--they think our admiration of beauty so great, that knowledge

in them would be superfluous. Thus, like garden-trees, they seldom show

fruit, till time has robbed them of the more specious blossom.--Few,

like Mrs. Malaprop and the orange-tree, are rich in both at once!

Mrs. MALAPROP

Sir, you overpower me with good-breeding.--He is the very pine-apple of

politeness!--You are not ignorant, captain, that this giddy girl has

somehow contrived to fix her affections on a beggarly, strolling,

eaves-dropping ensign, whom none of us have seen, and nobody knows

anything of.

ABSOLUTE

Oh, I have heard the silly affair before.--I'm not at all prejudiced

against her on that account.

Mrs. MALAPROP

You are very good and very considerate, captain. I am sure I have done

everything in my power since I exploded the affair; long ago I laid my

positive conjunctions on her, never to think on the fellow again;--I

have since laid Sir Anthony's preposition before her; but, I am sorry

to say, she seems resolved to decline every particle that I enjoin her.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

Oh! it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree.--I thought she had

persisted from corresponding with him; but, behold, this very day, I

have interceded another letter from the fellow; I believe I have it in

my pocket.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

Ay, here it is.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

ABSOLUTE

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

this hand before----

Mrs. MALAPROP

Nay, but read it, captain.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

ABSOLUTE

[Reads.] _I am excessively alarmed at the intelligence you send me, the

more so as my new rival_----

Mrs. MALAPROP

That's you, sir.

ABSOLUTE

[Reads.] _Has universally the character of being an accomplished

gentleman and a man of honour._--Well, that's handsome enough.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Oh, the fellow has some design in writing so.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

ABSOLUTE

[Reads.] _As for the old weather-beaten she-dragon who guards you_--Who

can he mean by that?

Mrs. MALAPROP

Me, sir!--me!--he means me!--There--what do you think now?--but go on a

little further.

ABSOLUTE

Impudent scoundrel!--[Reads.] _it shall go hard but I will elude her

vigilance, as I am told that the same ridiculous vanity, which makes

her dress up her coarse features, and deck her dull chat with hard

words which she don't understand_----

Mrs. MALAPROP

There, sir, an attack upon my language! what do you think of that?--an

aspersion upon my parts of speech! was ever such a brute! Sure, if I

reprehend any thing in this world, it is the use of my oracular tongue,

and a nice derangement of epitaphs!

ABSOLUTE

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

ridiculous vanity_----

Mrs. MALAPROP

You need not read it again, sir.

ABSOLUTE

I beg pardon, ma'am.--[Reads.] _does also lay her open to the grossest

deceptions from flattery and pretended admiration_--an impudent

coxcomb!--_so that I have a scheme to see you shortly with the old

harridan's consent, and even to make her a go-between in our

interview._--Was ever such assurance!

Mrs. MALAPROP

Did you ever hear anything like it?--he'll elude my vigilance, will

he--yes, yes! ha! ha! he's very likely to enter these doors;--we'll try

who can plot best!

ABSOLUTE

So we will, ma'am--so we will! Ha! ha! ha! a conceited puppy, ha! ha!

ha!--Well, but Mrs. Malaprop, as the girl seems so infatuated by this

fellow, suppose you were to wink at her corresponding with him for a

little time--let her even plot an elopement with him--then do you

connive at her escape--while I, just in the nick, will have the fellow

laid by the heels, and fairly contrive to carry her off in his stead.

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

ABSOLUTE

But, pray, could not I see the lady for a few minutes now?--I should

like to try her temper a little.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Why, I don't know--I doubt she is not prepared for a visit of this

kind. There is a decorum in these matters.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

Sir!

ABSOLUTE

[Aside.] Gently, good tongue.

Mrs. MALAPROP

What did you say of Beverley?

ABSOLUTE

Oh, I was going to propose that you should tell her, by way of jest,

that it was Beverley who was below; she'd come down fast enough

then--ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. MALAPROP

'Twould be a trick she well deserves; besides, you know the fellow

tells her he'll get my consent to see her--ha! ha! Let him if he can, I

say again. Lydia, come down here!--[Calling.] He'll make me a

go-between in their interviews!--ha! ha! ha! Come down, I say, Lydia! I

don't wonder at your laughing, ha! ha! ha! his impudence is truly

ridiculous.

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

The little hussy won't hear. Well, I'll go and tell her at once who it

is--she shall know that Captain Absolute is come to wait on her. And

I'll make her behave as becomes a young woman.

ABSOLUTE

As you please, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP

For the present, captain, your servant. Ah! you've not done laughing

yet, I see--elude my vigilance; yes, yes; ha! ha! ha! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE

Ha! ha! ha! one would think now that I might throw off all disguise at

once, and seize my prize with security; but such is Lydia's caprice,

that to undeceive were probably to lose her. I'll see whether she knows

me. [Walks aside, and seems engaged in looking at the pictures.]

[Enter LYDIA.]

LYDIA

What a scene am I now to go through! surely nothing can be more

dreadful than to be obliged to listen to the loathsome addresses of a

stranger to one's heart. I have heard of girls persecuted as I am, who

have appealed in behalf of their favoured lover to the generosity of

his rival--suppose I were to try it--there stands the hated rival--an

officer too!--but oh, how unlike my Beverley! I wonder he don't

begin--truly he seems a very negligent wooer!--quite at his ease, upon

my word!--I'll speak first--Mr. Absolute.

ABSOLUTE

Ma'am. [Turns round.]

LYDIA

O heavens! Beverley!

ABSOLUTE

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

LYDIA

I am so astonished! and so terrified! and so overjoyed!--for Heaven's

sake! how came you here?

ABSOLUTE

Briefly, I have deceived your aunt--I was informed that my new rival

was to visit here this evening, and contriving to have him kept away,

have passed myself on her for Captain Absolute.

LYDIA

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

ABSOLUTE

Oh, she's convinced of it.

LYDIA

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

overreached!

ABSOLUTE

But we trifle with our precious moments--such another opportunity may

not occur; then let me now conjure my kind, my condescending angel, to

fix the time when I may rescue her from undeserving persecution, and

with a licensed warmth plead for my reward.

LYDIA

Will you then, Beverley, consent to forfeit that portion of my paltry

wealth?--that burden on the wings of love?

ABSOLUTE

Oh, come to me--rich only thus--in loveliness! Bring no portion to me

but thy love--'twill be generous in you, Lydia--for well you know, it

is the only dower your poor Beverley can repay.

LYDIA

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

with him!

ABSOLUTE

Ah! my soul, what a life will we then live! Love shall be our idol and

support! we will worship him with a monastic strictness; abjuring all

worldly toys, to centre every thought and action there. Proud of

calamity, we will enjoy the wreck of wealth; while the surrounding

gloom of adversity shall make the flame of our pure love show doubly

bright. By Heavens! I would fling all goods of fortune from me with a

prodigal hand, to enjoy the scene where I might clasp my Lydia to my

bosom, and say, the world affords no smile to me but here--[Embracing

her.] [Aside.] If she holds out now, the devil is in it!

LYDIA

[Aside.] Now could I fly with him to the antipodes! but my persecution

is not yet come to a crisis.

[Re-enter Mrs. MALAPROP, listening.]

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

LYDIA

No--nor ever can while I have life.

Mrs. MALAPROP

[Aside.] An ill tempered little devil! She'll be in a passion all her

life--will she?

LYDIA

Think not the idle threats of my ridiculous aunt can ever have any

weight with me.

Mrs. MALAPROP

[Aside.] Very dutiful, upon my word!

LYDIA

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

his face!

ABSOLUTE

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

[Aside.] Ay, poor young man!--down on his knees entreating for

pity!--I can contain no longer.--[Coming forward.] Why, thou vixen!--I

have overheard you.

ABSOLUTE

[Aside.] Oh, confound her vigilance!

Mrs. MALAPROP

Captain Absolute, I know not how to apologize for her shocking

rudeness.

ABSOLUTE

[Aside.] So all's safe, I find.--[Aloud.] I have hopes, madam, that

time will bring the young lady----

Mrs. MALAPROP

Oh, there's nothing to be hoped for from her! she's as headstrong as an

allegory on the banks of Nile.

LYDIA

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

Why, thou unblushing rebel--didn't you tell this gentleman to his face

that you loved another better?--didn't you say you never would be his?

LYDIA

No, madam--I did not.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Good heavens! what assurance!--Lydia, Lydia, you ought to know that

lying don't become a young woman!--Didn't you boast that Beverley, that

stroller Beverley, possessed your heart?--Tell me that, I say.

LYDIA

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

ABSOLUTE

Nay, pray, Mrs. Malaprop, don't stop the young lady's speech: she's

very welcome to talk thus--it does not hurt me in the least, I assure

you.

Mrs. MALAPROP

You are too good, captain--too amiably patient--but come with me,

miss.--Let us see you again soon, captain--remember what we have fixed.

ABSOLUTE

I shall, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP

Come, take a graceful leave of the gentleman.

LYDIA

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

Mrs. MALAPROP

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

[Exeunt severally; CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE kissing his hand to LYDIA--Mrs.

MALAPROP stopping her from speaking.]

* * * * * * *

Scene IV--ACRES' Lodgings.

[ACRES, as just dressed, and DAVID.]

ACRES

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

DAVID

You are quite another creature, believe me, master, by the mass! an'

we've any luck we shall see the Devon mon kerony in all the print-shops

in Bath!

ACRES

Dress does make a difference, David.

DAVID

'Tis all in all, I think.--Difference! why, an' you were to go now to

Clod-Hall, I am certain the old lady wouldn't know you: Master Butler

wouldn't believe his own eyes, and Mrs. Pickle would cry, Lard presarve

me! our dairy-maid would come giggling to the door, and I warrant Dolly

Tester, your honour's favourite, would blush like my waistcoat.--Oons!

I'll hold a gallon, there ain't a dog in the house but would bark, and

I question whether Phillis would wag a hair of her tail!

ACRES

Ay, David, there's nothing like polishing.

DAVID

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

ACRES

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

and chasing, and boring.

DAVID

I'll call again, sir.

ACRES

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

DAVID

I will.--By the mass, I can't help looking at your head!--if I hadn't

been by at the cooking, I wish I may die if I should have known the

dish again myself! [Exit.]

ACRES

[Practising a dancing-step.] Sink, slide--coupee.--Confound the first

inventors of cotillions! say I--they are as bad as algebra to us country

gentlemen--I can walk a minuet easy enough when I am forced!--and I

have been accounted a good stick in a country-dance.--Odds jigs and

tabors! I never valued your cross-over to couple--figure in--right and

left--and I'd foot it with e'er a captain in the county!--but these

outlandish heathen allemandes and cotillions are quite beyond me!--I

shall never prosper at 'em, that's sure--mine are true-born English

legs--they don't understand their curst French lingo!--their _pas_

this, and _pas_ that, and _pas_ t'other!--damn me! my feet don't like

to be called paws! no, 'tis certain I have most Antigallican toes!

[Enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT

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

ACRES

Show him in.

[Exit SERVANT.]

[Enter Sir LUCIUS O'TRIGGER.]

Sir LUCIUS

Mr. Acres, I am delighted to embrace you.

ACRES

My dear Sir Lucius, I kiss your hands.

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

Faith! I have followed Cupid's Jack-a-lantern, and find myself in a

quagmire at last.--In short, I have been very ill used, Sir Lucius.--I

don't choose to mention names, but look on me as on a very ill-used

gentleman.

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

Mark me, Sir Lucius, I fall as deep as need be in love with a young

lady--her friends take my part--I follow her to Bath--send word of my

arrival; and receive answer, that the lady is to be otherwise disposed

of.--This, Sir Lucius, I call being ill-used.

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

Why, there's the matter; she has another lover, one Beverley, who, I am

told, is now in Bath.--Odds slanders and lies! he must be at the bottom

of it.

Sir LUCIUS

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

unfairly?

ACRES

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

Sir LUCIUS

Then sure you know what is to be done!

ACRES

Not I, upon my soul!

Sir LUCIUS

We wear no swords here, but you understand me.

ACRES

What! fight him!

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

But he has given me no provocation.

Sir LUCIUS

Now, I think he has given you the greatest provocation in the world.

Can a man commit a more heinous offence against another than to fall in

love with the same woman? Oh, by my soul! it is the most unpardonable

breach of friendship.

ACRES

Breach of friendship! ay, ay; but I have no acquaintance with this man.

I never saw him in my life.

Sir LUCIUS

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

liberty.

ACRES

Gad, that's true--I grow full of anger, Sir Lucius!--I fire apace! Odds

hilts and blades! I find a man may have a deal of valour in him, and

not know it! But couldn't I contrive to have a little right of my side?

Sir LUCIUS

What the devil signifies right, when your honour is concerned? Do you

think Achilles, or my little Alexander the Great, ever inquired where

the right lay? No, by my soul, they drew their broad-swords, and left

the lazy sons of peace to settle the justice of it.

ACRES

Your words are a grenadier's march to my heart! I believe courage must

be catching! I certainly do feel a kind of valour rising as it were--a

kind of courage, as I may say.--Odds flints, pans, and triggers! I'll

challenge him directly.

Sir LUCIUS

Ah, my little friend, if I had Blunderbuss Hall here, I could show you

a range of ancestry, in the O'Trigger line, that would furnish the new

room; every one of whom had killed his man!--For though the

mansion-house and dirty acres have slipped through my fingers, I thank

heaven our honour and the family-pictures are as fresh as ever.

ACRES

O, Sir Lucius! I have had ancestors too!--every man of 'em colonel or

captain in the militia!--Odds balls and barrels! say no more--I'm

braced for it. The thunder of your words has soured the milk of human

kindness in my breast;--Zounds! as the man in the play says, _I could

do such deeds!_

Sir LUCIUS

Come, come, there must be no passion at all in the case--these things

should always be done civilly.

ACRES

I must be in a passion, Sir Lucius--I must be in a rage.--Dear Sir

Lucius, let me be in a rage, if you love me. Come, here's pen and

paper.--[Sits down to write.] I would the ink were red!--Indite, I say,

indite!--How shall I begin? Odds bullets and blades! I'll write a good

bold hand, however.

Sir LUCIUS

Pray compose yourself.

ACRES

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

with a damme.

Sir LUCIUS

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

----_

ACRES

That's too civil by half.

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

Well----

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

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

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

Zounds! I'm not asking him to dinner.

Sir LUCIUS

Pray be easy.

ACRES

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

Sir LUCIUS

_To settle our pretensions----_

ACRES

Well.

Sir LUCIUS

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

ACRES

So, that's done--Well, I'll fold it up presently; my own crest--a hand

and dagger shall be the seal.

Sir LUCIUS

You see now this little explanation will put a stop at once to all

confusion or misunderstanding that might arise between you.

ACRES

Ay, we fight to prevent any misunderstanding.

Sir LUCIUS

Now, I'll leave you to fix your own time.--Take my advice, and you'll

decide it this evening if you can; then let the worst come of it,

'twill be off your mind to-morrow.

ACRES

Very true.

Sir LUCIUS

So I shall see nothing of you, unless it be by letter, till the

evening.--I would do myself the honour to carry your message; but, to

tell you a secret, I believe I shall have just such another affair on

my own hands. There is a gay captain here, who put a jest on me lately,

at the expense of my country, and I only want to fall in with the

gentleman, to call him out.

ACRES

By my valour, I should like to see you fight first! Odds life! I should

like to see you kill him if it was only to get a little lesson.

Sir LUCIUS

I shall be very proud of instructing you.--Well for the present--but

remember now, when you meet your antagonist, do every thing in a mild

and agreeable manner.--Let your courage be as keen, but at the same

time as polished, as your sword.

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * * * * * *

ACT IV

* * * * * * *

Scene I--ACRES' Lodgings.

[ACRES and DAVID.]

DAVID

Then, by the mass, sir! I would do no such thing--ne'er a Sir Lucius

O'Trigger in the kingdom should make me fight, when I wasn't so minded.

Oons! what will the old lady say, when she hears o't?

ACRES

Ah! David, if you had heard Sir Lucius!--Odds sparks and flames! he

would have roused your valour.

DAVID

Not he, indeed. I hate such bloodthirsty cormorants. Look'ee, master,

if you wanted a bout at boxing, quarter staff, or short-staff, I should

never be the man to bid you cry off: but for your curst sharps and

snaps, I never knew any good come of 'em.

ACRES

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

DAVID

Ay, by the mass! and I would be very careful of it; and I think in

return my honour couldn't do less than to be very careful of me.

ACRES

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

DAVID

I say then, it would be but civil in honour never to risk the loss of a

gentleman.--Look'ee, master, this honour seems to me to be a marvellous

false friend: ay, truly, a very courtier-like servant.--Put the case, I

was a gentleman (which, thank God, no one can say of me;) well--my

honour makes me quarrel with another gentleman of my

acquaintance.--So--we fight. (Pleasant enough that!) Boh!--I kill

him--(the more's my luck!) now, pray who gets the profit of it?--Why,

my honour. But put the case that he kills me!--by the mass! I go to the

worms, and my honour whips over to my enemy.

ACRES

No, David--in that case!--odds crowns and laurels! your honour follows

you to the grave.

DAVID

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

ACRES

Zounds! David, you are a coward!--It doesn't become my valour to listen

to you.--What, shall I disgrace my ancestors?--Think of that,

David--think what it would be to disgrace my ancestors!

DAVID

Under favour, the surest way of not disgracing them, is to keep as long

as you can out of their company. Look'ee now, master, to go to them in

such haste--with an ounce of lead in your brains--I should think might

as well be let alone. Our ancestors are very good kind of folks; but

they are the last people I should choose to have a visiting

acquaintance with.

ACRES

But, David, now, you don't think there is such very, very, very great

danger, hey?--Odds life! people often fight without any mischief done!

DAVID

By the mass, I think 'tis ten to one against you!--Oons! here to meet

some lion-headed fellow, I warrant, with his damned double-barrelled

swords, and cut-and-thrust pistols!--Lord bless us! it makes me tremble

to think o't--Those be such desperate bloody-minded weapons! Well, I

never could abide 'em!--from a child I never could fancy 'em!--I

suppose there an't been so merciless a beast in the world as your

loaded pistol!

ACRES

Zounds! I won't be afraid!--Odds fire and fury! you shan't make me

afraid.--Here is the challenge, and I have sent for my dear friend Jack

Absolute to carry it for me.

DAVID

Ay, i' the name of mischief, let him be the messenger.--For my part I

wouldn't lend a hand to it for the best horse in your stable. By the

mass! it don't look like another letter! It is, as I may say, a

designing and malicious-looking letter; and I warrant smells of

gunpowder like a soldier's pouch!--Oons! I wouldn't swear it mayn't go

off!

ACRES

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

DAVID

Well, I say no more--'twill be sad news, to be sure, at Clod-Hall! but

I ha' done.--How Phillis will howl when she hears of it!--Ay, poor

bitch, she little thinks what shooting her master's going after! And I

warrant old Crop, who has carried your honour, field and road, these

ten years, will curse the hour he was born. [Whimpering.]

ACRES

It won't do, David--I am determined to fight--so get along you coward,

while I'm in the mind.

[Enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT

Captain Absolute, sir.

ACRES

Oh! show him up.

[Exit SERVANT.]

DAVID

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

ACRES

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

DAVID

Good-bye, master. [Whimpering.]

ACRES

Get along, you cowardly, dastardly, croaking raven!

[Exit DAVID.]

[Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

ABSOLUTE

What's the matter, Bob?

ACRES

A vile, sheep-hearted blockhead! If I hadn't the valour of St. George

and the dragon to boot----

ABSOLUTE

But what did you want with me, Bob?

ACRES

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

ABSOLUTE

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

what's this?

ACRES

A challenge!

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Egad, but I will, Jack. Sir Lucius has wrought me to it. He has left me

full of rage--and I'll fight this evening, that so much good passion

mayn't be wasted.

ABSOLUTE

But what have I to do with this?

ACRES

Why, as I think you know something of this fellow, I want you to find

him out for me, and give him this mortal defiance.

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Thank you, my dear friend, my dear Jack; but it is giving you a great

deal of trouble.

ABSOLUTE

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

I assure you.

ACRES

You are very kind.--What it is to have a friend!--You couldn't be my

second, could you, Jack?

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Well, then, I must get my friend Sir Lucius. I shall have your good

wishes, however, Jack?

ABSOLUTE

Whenever he meets you, believe me.

[Re-enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT

Sir Anthony Absolute is below, inquiring for the captain.

ABSOLUTE

I'll come instantly.----

[Exit SERVANT.]

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

ACRES

----Stay--stay, Jack.--If Beverley should ask you what kind of a man

your friend Acres is, do tell him I am a devil of a fellow--will you,

Jack?

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Ah, do, do--and if that frightens him, egad, perhaps he mayn't come. So

tell him I generally kill a man a week; will you, Jack?

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

Right--right--'tis all to prevent mischief; for I don't want to take

his life if I clear my honour.

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

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

ABSOLUTE

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

ACRES

True, true--but stay--stay, Jack--you may add, that you never saw me in

such a rage before--a most devouring rage!

ABSOLUTE

I will, I will.

ACRES

Remember, Jack--a determined dog!

ABSOLUTE

Ay, ay, Fighting Bob!

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * *