SCENE I.--_The cottage--same as first scene of second act--Chairs,

SINGLE LIFE;

A COMEDY,

In Three Acts,

BY

JOHN BALDWIN BUCKSTONE, ESQ.,

(MEMBER OF THE DRAMATIC AUTHORS' SOCIETY,)

AS PERFORMED AT THE

THEATRE ROYAL, HAY-MARKET.

CORRECTLY PRINTED FROM THE PROMPTER'S COPY, WITH THE

CAST OF CHARACTERS, COSTUME, SCENIC ARRANGEMENT,

SIDES OF ENTRANCE AND EXIT, AND RELATIVE

POSITIONS OF THE DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED WITH AN ETCHING,

BY PIERCE EGAN, THE YOUNGER, FROM A DRAWING TAKEN

DURING THE REPRESENTATION.

LONDON:

CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND.

"NASSAU STEAM PRESS,"

W. S. JOHNSON, 6, NASSAU STREET, SOHO.

Dramatis Personæ and Costume.

_First produced, Tuesday, July 23rd, 1839._

BACHELORS.

MR. JOHN NIGGLE _(A fluctuating bachelor.)_ }

Light drab coat, white waistcoat, nankeen } MR. WEBSTER.

pantaloons, white stockings, shoes, white wig }

tied in a tail, white hat }

MR. DAVID DAMPER _(A woman-hating bachelor.)_ }

Brown coat with black horn buttons, old }

fashioned dark figured silk waistcoat, black } MR. STRICKLAND.

pantaloons, hessian boots, iron-grey wig, }

broad-brimmed hat }

MR. PETER PINKEY _(A bashful bachelor.)_ }

Lavender coloured coat, white waistcoat, }

white trowsers, pink socks, pumps, pink silk } MR. BUCKSTONE.

neckerchief, pink gloves, pink watch ribbon, }

low crowned hat and cane, flaxen fashionably }

dressed wig }

MR. NARCISSUS BOSS _(A self-loving }

bachelor.)_ Fashionable chocolate-coloured }

Newmarket coat with roses in the buttonhole, }

elegantly flowered waistcoat, light drab } MR. W. LACY.

French trowsers with boots, light blue cravat }

exquisitely tied, frilled shirt, hat, and }

wristbands a la D'Orsay, and the hair dressed }

in the first style of elegance }

MR. CHARLES CHESTER _(A mysterious }

bachelor.)_ Dark frock coat, silk waistcoat, } MR. HEMMING.

light trowsers, French gaiters and shoes, }

round hat }

SPINSTERS.

MISS CAROLINE COY _(A vilified spinster.)_ }

Grey silk dress, laced shawl and white } MRS. W. CLIFFORD.

ribbons, white satin bonnet, flowers, long }

yellow gloves, white reticule }

MISS MARIA MACAW _(A man-hating spinster.)_ }

Green silk open dress, white petticoat, }

figured satin large apron, lace handkerchief, } MRS. GLOVER.

close lace cap and white ribbons, fan, and }

black rimmed spectacles }

MISS KITTY SKYLARK _(A singing spinster.)_ }

White muslin pelisse over blue, chip hat and } MRS. FITZWILLIAM.

flowers. _(2nd dress.)_ Pink satin and blond }

flounces }

MISS SARAH SNARE _(An insinuating }

spinster.)_, _1st dress._ White muslin }

petticoat, black velvet spencer, pink satin } MRS. DANSON.

high-crowned bonnet and green feathers. _(2nd }

dress.)_ Green satin and pink ribbons, black }

wig dressed in high French bows }

MISS JESSY MEADOWS _(A romantic spinster.)_ }

White muslin dress mittens. _(2nd dress in } MISS TRAVERS.

the last scene.)_ White lace over white satin }

with roses }

Time of representation, 2 hours.

EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS.

L. means first entrance, left. R. first entrance, right. S.E.L. second

entrance, left. S.E.R. second entrance, right. U.E.L. upper entrance,

left. U.E.R. upper entrance, right. C. centre, L.C. left centre. R.C.

right centre. T.E.L. third entrance, left. T.E.R. third entrance,

right. Observing you are supposed to face the audience.

ADVERTISEMENT.

"SINGLE LIFE" is intended as a companion picture to the same author's

Comedy of "MARRIED LIFE;" and as that attempted to illustrate a few of

the humours of the state matrimonial, and interest an audience without

the introduction of any lovers whatever, in going to the opposite

extreme in "SINGLE LIFE," and making his characters "_Lovers all,_" he

has been equally successful in pourtraying some of the vagaries of

courtship, and showing that the democratic region of celibacy has its

bickerings, as well as the most loyal one of "The United States."

SINGLE LIFE.

ACT I.

SCENE I.--_An apartment at MR. NIGGLE'S. A sideboard, with cupboard,

on the U.E.R. Window, with curtains, on the F.E.L. A round table, L.,

chairs, &c._

_MISS SNARE discovered seated at table, L., looking over the books,

&c._

MISS SNA. _(Reading.)_ "The Young Man's best Companion"--a very

excellent book for youth; but at Mr. Niggle's age, he ought to possess

_his_ best companion in a devoted and amiable wife; heigho! What a

treasure _I_ should be to any man that could properly understand me.

_(Takes up another book.)_ "The Epistles of Abelard and Heloise." I am

pleased to see this book on his table, it proves that he possesses a

taste for sentiment of the highest order, and can admire devotedness

and passion under the most trying circumstances. "The Newgate

Calender." Bless the man, what can induce him to have such a book as

this in his house; surely he can have no sympathy with housebreakers

and assassins? I must look to this: should I ever be the mistress

here, some of these volumes must be removed--this furniture too--very

well for a bachelor; but when he is married, a change must be made.

And those curtains, how slovenly they are put up. Ah, any one can

discover the want of a presiding female hand in a bachelor's

house--where is the neatness, the order, and the good taste that

prevails in all the arrangements, where the master of the house is a

married man. If ever I am Mrs. Niggle, down shall come those curtains,

away shall go that sideboard, off shall go those chairs, and as for

this table--let me look at its legs----_(Lifts up the cover and

examines the legs of it.)_

[_DAMPER peeps in, F.E.L._

DAM. Hollo! hollo!

MISS SNA. Oh! how you frightened me.

DAM. It's a very suspicious thing when an old maid examines a

bachelor's furniture.

MISS SNA. Good morning, Mr. Damper, I was merely observing Mr.

Niggle's table legs.

DAM. (L.) Ah! when an old maid finds herself on her own last legs,

'tis time she should observe those of other people.

MISS SNA. (L.) What a censorious man you are, Mr. Damper, you rail at

our sex as if you considered it man's natural enemy, instead of his

best friend. Is it possible that you have never loved a woman in all

your life?

DAM. I love a woman! Ugh! I look upon you all as the first great cause

of every evil.

MISS SNA. For, like most first great causes, you don't understand us.

DAM. If I don't, I have no wish to acquire any such useless knowledge.

May I ask what you want at my friend Niggle's, so early in the

morning: some conspiracy, I'll be bound. I wont allow it, Miss Snare;

if you think to inveigle him into matrimony, you'll find yourself

mistaken; he shall never marry, if I can prevent him making such a

ninny of himself.

MISS SNA. It is entirely through your interference, I have been told,

that he is in a state of celibacy; and, though the poor gentleman is

now fifty-five, yet ever since he arrived at years of discretion, he

has been sighing and pining for a wife.

DAM. He would have been a ruined man long ago, but for me; five times

have I saved him from the matrimonial precipice.

MISS SNA. How did you save him?

DAM. How? I have discovered his intention to marry, and knowing how

nervous he is upon the subject, I have always interfered in time, told

him in strong language the evils he was bringing upon his head,

brought instances of married misery so plainly before his eyes, that I

have frightened him out of his wits; and one morning, eight years ago,

he was actually dressed and on his way to church to unite himself to

some designing woman, when I luckily met him, and dragged him back

again by the collar.

MISS SNA. And he had to pay five hundred pounds damages, in an action

for breach of promise.

DAM. But he purchased independence and happiness with the money. I

have been his best friend through life; didn't I go out with him when

he was challenged by a young lady's brother, twenty years ago, because

I made him relinquish his attentions to her? And though he has been

shot at and caned, and has paid damages in two actions for breach of

promise, yet by meeting those small evils, he has escaped that far

greater one--_a wife;_ and every morning when he rises a free man, I

know he invokes a blessing on my head. _(Sits at table, L.)_

MISS SNA. _(Aside.)_ Oh, you monster, you ought to be poisoned. _(Sits

R.)_

[_NIGGLE opens folding doors at back, and looks at them._

NIG. Why the deuce don't they go away? What do they want here?

Confound them!

[_Disappears._

DAM. Where is Niggle? I wish most particularly to see him. Has he

shown himself yet?

MISS SNA. I have been waiting for him this half hour, to solicit his

vote for a beadle.

DAM. A beadle! To persuade him to call on the parish clerk, more

likely. It wont do, Miss Snare, you don't catch him in _your_ net.

_(Aside.)_ Surely it can't be this dangerous woman that he is going to

make a fool of himself with. She sha'n't have him--nobody shall have

him.

[_NIGGLE peeps from doors, again._

NIG. I wish they'd go.

DAM. _(Seeing him.)_ Hollo! there you are; come here, sir, and let me

examine you.

NIG. _(Advancing, C.)_ David, I will no longer allow this continued

intrusion on my privacy; and, Miss Snare, I do not wish to offend, but

really your continued calls upon _me_, at all hours, are somewhat

indecorous. The neighbours begin to talk, and I must check them. What

may you want this morning?

MISS SNA. I am sure, sir, I was not aware that my friendly visits

could cause anybody to talk, or at least be annoying to you; however,

I shall not intrude again--you know why I called yesterday.

NIG. To give me a pincushion, made by yourself, in the form of a

heart.

DAM. A dead set at you, John, clear as daylight--a dead set at you.

Oh! miss, I'm ashamed of you.

MISS SNA. For what, sir? He complained, a few days since, that he was

without a pincushion, and could never recollect to purchase one; and

where was the harm, sir, in my supplying such a trifling want: I shall

not be so attentive _again_, be assured. As for my call this morning,

it was on parish business--a motive of charity; but since my little

acts of friendship are so sternly checked, of course those of charity

must suffer at the same time. And I did hope to have your company to

tea, to-morrow.

NIG. Well, well, I know and appreciate your motives; but you always

contrive to call when I'm occupied, when I don't want to be

disturbed--and _this_ morning, I particularly wish to be quite alone.

_(Double knock without.)_ Another call! Dear, dear, that is the worst

of being a bachelor; everybody walks into his house whenever they

please--no announcement, no ceremony, in they bounce with--"How are

you? how do? only _me_." And sit themselves down, and take up this,

and throw down that. Oh, I wish I had the courage to take a wife.

_(Looking at his watch.)_ How the time is getting on--quarter past

nine--we were to have been at church at ten, the latest. _(MISS KITTY

SKYLARK heard without, running a cadence.)_ Oh, dear! it's that

abominable singing lady; what the deuce brings her here? Her

conversation is so interspersed with singing, that she's a complete

human burletta--I shall never get rid of her. How shall I escape out

of the house.

_MISS KITTY SKYLARK enters, F.E.L., with a roll of music in her hand._

MISS SKY. Oh, good morning, good people--didn't expect to find any one

here so early. I've got it for you, Mr. Niggle.

NIG. Got what?

MISS SKY. The song that you were trying to sing the other evening,

"The Bay of Biscay," you know you first got out of tune, then you

broke down altogether. I have bought the correct copy for you, and, if

you'll allow me, I'll teach it you. _(Sings.)_ "As we lay, all that

day, in the bay--" that's where you went astray, in the high note--"In

the bay--" You must practice it twenty times a day--"Of Biscay, O!"

NIG. You're very kind, indeed, miss; but this morning, I've no time to

practice high notes. _(Aside.)_ I must turn them all out by force.

MISS SKY. Well, well, any other day then. I've a charming song for

_you_, Mr. Damper, just suited to your deep bass. _(Sings.)_ "While

the wolf with nightly prowl"----An excellent song for you--you hate us

women, you know; and, as the savage wolf howls at the sweet and

silvery moon, so do you rail at us radiant creatures. Ah! good

morning, Miss Snare, I've not forgotten _you_ either; I've picked up

an old ditty that will be the very thing for you. _(Sings.)_ "Nobody

coming to marry me, nobody coming to woo--wo--o--o--o--woo--o----"

MISS SNA. Insulting creature! _(Regards her with every expression of

contempt.)_

[_MISS SKYLARK_ points out the notes on paper to NIGGLE, who is

fidgetting to get away._

DAM. _(Aside.)_ Poor Niggle's in a hopeful way; one woman wants to

teach him to sing "The Bay of Biscay," and another is continually

calling on him with pincushions. I must keep my eye upon him.

NIG. _(Aside.)_ Another ten minutes gone. What shall I do? _(Looks at

his watch.)_

MISS SKY. Oh, what do you think, while I was in the music-shop this

morning, I heard such scandal; it seems to be all over the town. I

never was so shocked in all my life--and of a lady, too, that we

always considered so very correct in her conduct.

MISS SNA. Do you allude to Miss Coy?

MISS SKY. I do.

DAM. What, have _you_ heard? so have I.

NIG. _(Looking anxiously from one to another.)_ What? what?

MISS SKY. I cant repeat it, especially as she's an acquaintance; were

it a stranger, I should not hesitate; but to retail anything against

one's _friends_, is so ungenerous.

DAM. Come here. Was it that she----_(Whispers.)_

MISS SKY. Yes. Could you have believed it?

DAM. Oh, woman, woman, just like you.

MISS SNA. I think I can guess the nature of the report--quite a

full-grown young man, I hear.

DAM. Quite full-grown--five-and-twenty.

MISS SNA. Shocking! shocking!

MISS SKY. Dreadful!

DAM. Horrible!

NIG. What is it? Am I to be the only person in ignorance of anything

derogatory to the reputation of Miss Coy?

MISS SKY. The fact is, Mr. Niggle, we don't wish to wound your

feelings. Oh, you sly man, do you think your attentions to Miss Coy,

have passed unnoticed. Gallanting her home from parties, running of

errands for her, sitting on a post opposite to her window of an

evening, when the weather has been mild enough, taking walks, and

taking tea, and playing at double dummy by moonlight. Oh, shocking!

shocking! _(Sings.)_ "Can love be controlled by advice? Will Cupid his

mother obey."

NIG. Pray don't be musical at such a moment, miss, pray, don't. _One_

shakes her head and cries "shocking," another ejaculates "dreadful,"

while Damper sums up all by a growl of "horrible," and giving a

violent hint of Miss Coy and some full grown young man. Now, what is

it? Not that I particularly wish to know; because curiosity is a

foible that I detest. Not that it at all concerns me, the least in the

world--the least in the world. What is it?

MISS SKY. Don't tell him.

DAM. You're not going to make a fool of yourself in that quarter, are

you? Think how many times I have saved you from perdition! Tell me if

you are: I am your friend you know, and I'll never forsake you.

MISS SKY. Nay, Mr. Damper, if his fancy _is_ fixed there, why should

he not gratify it? Miss Coy is still a handsome woman, past the summer

of her existence, certainly; but what I call a fine autumnal maiden.

NIG. So she is; and if I _do_ possess a preference for any female, I

certainly admire one at that season of life: when her charms are in

the richest state of perfection. None of your just budding April

misses for me; who, after all, may turn out to be very indifferent

blossoms.

DAM. Ah! your autumnal maiden is so near a neighbour of your wintery

one, that when you have folded the full blown blossom to your heart,

you will find to your dismay, that all its leaves are falling at your

feet; but I understand your rhapsody--you have betrayed yourself, and

now I ask you a plain question--are you going to be married?

NIG. To make a plain reply, what is it to you? _(Knocking without.)_

Another call, what shall I do? How the time is getting on--my only

chance is to drop out of the window into the road.

_MR. NARCISSUS BOSS, without, F.E.L._

BOSS. Mr. Niggle at home? Oh, very well. [_Enters._] Good morning to

you, Niggle. Ah! Damper, _you_ here. _(Crosses to C.)_ Ladies, your

most obedient, I dropped in to see my friend. Mr. Niggle, the

strangest bit of gossip you ever heard--while I was at my tailor's,

suggesting an alteration in my arm-holes--clumsy fellow has made me

thirty coats and can't fit me yet.

DAM. Never mind your tailor--what of the gossip?

BOSS. I don't think I'm justified in publicly retailing it; but my

operative assured me on his honor as a man, that he had heard it, and

as I know our friend Niggle is interested in the party scandalized, I

thought it but friendly to call and drop him a _hint_ of what I have

heard.

MISS SKY. _(Crossing to him and whispering.)_ Of _Miss_ Coy?

BOSS. Yes, what have _you_ heard?

MISS SKY. I have indeed.

MISS SNA. Relating to the party you alluded to, Miss Skylark?

MISS SKY. The very same!

DAM. Come, come, speak out; what is the use of mystery? You allude to

Miss Coy?

BOSS. I do.

NIG. Well, well, what is it? If it is so very horrible, what is it?

Eh? eh? eh? _(To each of them; they all shake their heads and sigh.)_

Oh, well, well, if you don't choose to tell me, keep the matter to

yourself; why call here dropping your hints? Why should I concern

_myself_ about that lady, or what may be said of her? hey? eh? Ah,

indeed, why? As for you, Mr. David, listen to me: it was all very well

and very kind of you to concern yourself about me when I was young and

thoughtless; but now I am at an age to judge for myself, your

interference in my affairs is very officious; and, in future, sir, I

shall do as I like, marry if I like, drown myself if I like, and if I

_do_ the latter thing, sir, I shall consider it an act of impertinence

if you jump into _any_ pond, in _any_ place, and _under_ any

circumstances, after me. There, sir.

[_Exit at the back, in a violent passion._

MISS SKY. His indignation is very suspicious.

MISS SNA. Very indeed!

DAM. He certainly is about to marry that woman.

BOSS. I should regret it exceedingly if he were.

MISS SNA. We ought really to tell him what we have heard, and break

off the match.

MISS SKY. Let us first be assured that one is about to be made. Search

the room, perhaps we may discover something that may confirm our

suspicions. Miss Snare, you examine his books, and the drawers of his

table; Boss peep about in the corners; Damper, go up stairs and

cross-examine him; I'll rummage the sideboard. _(Opens sideboard

cupboard.)_ Oh! what's here?

ALL. What?

MISS SKY. Oho! a wedding-cake and cards. _(Takes out cake and cards.)_

DAM. A wedding-cake!

MISS SNA. And cards too!

MISS SKY. _(Holding them out and singing.)_

"A bridal wreath we weave for thee,

Of every flower the fairest."

DAM. _(Taking them from her.)_ Connubial cards linked together by

little bits of silver cord. _(Reading.)_ "Mr. John Niggle, Mrs. John

Niggle."

MISS SKY. _(Placing cake on sideboard and taking a packet of cards

from the cupboard.)_ Here they are, dozens upon dozens of them; the

lady's card the largest, as a broad hint that she means to be

paramount.

MISS SNA. Can it be? Is it a fact? _(Taking a pair of cards.)_ It is,

indeed, true; and if he is not already married, he will be so very

soon. I couldn't have thought it, after--after----_(Bursts into

tears.)_

MISS SKY. Miss Snare, what's the matter?

BOSS. It seems as if she had set her heart upon the gentleman herself.

DAM. Hum! I am very happy to know that you, at least, are not the

woman to whom he intends sacrificing himself; but I'll discover the

party, and if it should be Miss Coy, I'll shoot him out of hand,

rather than see him so duped. He sha'n't marry I'm resolved. _(Going

out at the back and calling.)_ Niggle, Niggle, you fool, where are

you?

[_Exit._

MISS SKY. Miss Snare, Miss Snare, pray don't take the matter so much

to heart.

MISS SNA. Well, I hope he'll be happy--I'm sure he will--such an

excellent temper--such taste in all matters.

[_BOSS comes down C._

BOSS. Except in dress. His coats seem to have been cut out with a

knife and fork.

MISS SNA. In elegance of costume, Mr. Boss, you completely bear away

the palm.

BOSS. My taste in the matter, is, I flatter myself, perfect--indeed

with me it is a _furor._

MISS SKY. Oh, sir, I am afraid you admire yourself too much, to bestow

a thought of regard on one of us poor women.

BOSS. I shall never marry till I discover perfection.

MISS SKY. You will find grey hairs hanging over your temples, before

you obtain that object of your search.

BOSS. (C.) Then I'll die a bachelor!

MISS SKY. (C.) And, like the swan, sing your own elegy.

MISS SNA. (L.) A young man of Mr. Boss's figure, must in time strike

those who would think it little trouble to conquer the faults of habit

and nature, and make herself as near, what _he_ may consider to be

perfection, as possible.

BOSS. Why, yes, my figure I think is perfect--breadth of shoulders,

smallness of waist, curve of back, flow of hip, and tolerable height,

are the _materiel_ that go _towards_ forming a _good_ figure, and

which _materiel_, I flatter myself, I possess. _(Crosses to L.)_

MISS SNA. _(Ogling him.)_ In an eminent degree.

MISS SKY. Oho! The old maid having been defeated in one matrimonial

attack, is about to commence another.

BOSS. _(Aside.)_ I'll be hanged, but Miss Snare is a woman of taste.

[_DAMPER and NIGGLE heard without, C.D._

NIG. I will not allow such a liberty: let me go, sir, let me go.

DAM. Not without me.

_Enter NIGGLE and DAMPER, C.D._

DAM. It's all true, he is going to be married; the lady is now waiting

for him in a bye lane, in a post-chaise. One comfort, 'tis now ten

minutes past his appointed time.

NIG. I shall lose my temper. I will not be interfered with any

longer--lies and slander I defy. I have lived fifty-five years in the

world, longing since boyhood for the delights of matrimony; never

before has my resolution been so fixed as it is now, and married I

will be, in spite of the world. I will not be shut out from the

cordialities of life.

DAM. You shall not make a fool of yourself.

NIG. I will. I will not trifle any longer with happiness now it is

within my grasp. Let me go, sir, or I'll knock you down. Let me go.

[_Breaks from him and runs off, F.E.L.; DAMPER buttoning up his coat._

DAM. He sha'n't escape, I'll follow him if it's to Africa.

[_Exit F.E.L._

MISS SKY. Ha! ha! ha! the hunt is up--there they run--there _(Looks

from window.)_ they run. Now Niggle, now Damper. Look at the heart

stirring-chase, _(Singing.)_

"With a heigho! chevy;

Hark! forward, hark! forward, tantivy.

With a heigho! chevy;

Hark! forward, hark! forward, tantivy.

Hark! forward, hark! forward,

Hark! forward, &c.

Yoicks!

Arise the burthen of my song;

This day a stag must die!"

[_Exit, F.E.L._

MISS SNA. What a strange turn in affairs, and what a singular lady is

that Miss Skylark.

BOSS. How does she get on with her bashful beau, Pinkey?

MISS SNA. Nothing decided yet, she tells me. He still continues

writing the most glowing letters that ever were penned. I am to see a

few of them shortly; but when the poor fellow is in her presence, he

can scarcely utter a word, and though he has written nearly fifty most

passionate billets, he has never once verbally alluded to the state of

his feelings.

BOSS. (L.) And whenever they meet, of course the lady looks for a

declaration.

MISS SNA. And of course he can't find courage to utter a word.

BOSS. How distressing! I am passing your door, Miss Snare, will you

take my arm?

MISS SNA. You are very kind!

BOSS. (L.) Beautiful color this cloth, is it not? _(Shewing the sleeve

of his coat.)_

MISS SNA. Beautiful!

BOSS. And the pattern of my waistcoat.

MISS SNA. Exquisite!

BOSS. May I ask you if you admire me collectively.

MISS SNA. Oh, that I do, from the extreme point of your boot, to the

loftiest summit of your hair.

BOSS. 'Pon my life she's a desirable woman!

[_They are going off L.; they meet MISS SKYLARK, who is re-entering._

MISS SKY. Stop, stop; as I was going out at the door, who should I

meet but Mr. Pinkey; on seeing me he stammered, blushed, and said that

he was going to call on you, Miss Snare. I informed him that you were

here, and now he is stumbling up stairs to speak to you. Come in, Mr.

Pinkey, the lady that you wish to see is here.

_MR. PETER PINKEY enters, F.E.L._

MISS SNA. Good morning, Mr. Pinkey.

PIN. Good morning, ma'am.

MISS SNA. You wish to see me?

PIN. I have merely called to say that I have received your note, and I

shall do myself the pleasure of taking tea with you to-morrow, at

eight o'clock precisely.

MISS SKY. Alone, with Miss Skylark.

PIN. Oh, Lord, no; I hope not.

MISS SNA. 'Tis a general invitation to all our friends. You will find

a card at your house, Miss Skylark. Perhaps Mr. P. will escort you.

PIN. I'll do anything to make myself agreeable. I'll call for you.

Shall I? _(To MISS SKYLARK.)_

MISS SNA. If you please.

PIN. I will.

MISS SNA. Do!

PIN. I will!

MISS SNA. _(To BOSS.)_ We'll leave them together; he may overcome his

bashfulness when he gets used to being alone with his object. He is

fond of her, no doubt--true love is never very loquacious.

BOSS. Can't say, never having known the passion!

MISS SNA. Ah, you will know it some day.

BOSS. What are the symptoms? Explain as we go along, that I may be

aware of my malady when I am attacked. _(Crosses to L.)_

MISS SNA. For me to attempt to explain, would be to confess that I

have experienced the emotion myself.

BOSS. You have.

MISS SNA. No!

BOSS. You Circe, you have.

MISS SNA. No, I declare.

BOSS. Well then, you may----

MISS SNA. If I am much in your society, there is no knowing what I may

experience.

[_Exeunt F.E.L._

_MISS SKYLARK seated, R., looking after them; sings._

"Is there a heart that never loved,

Or felt soft woman's sigh!"

PIN. Beautiful!

MISS SKY. Eh?

PIN. Oh, nothing. Dear me, I am quite alone with her--I wish I could

say something confounded clever. I'll be hanged if I don't try. Hem!

_(Quickly.)_ How are you to-day, miss?

MISS SKY. _(Imitating him.)_ Very well! how are you?

PIN. Very well, all but a slight pain in my side.

MISS SKY. Indeed!

PIN. Yes. I'll be hanged if I can say another word. What _can_ I talk

about? What _do_ people talk about? I have worn out the weather, and

she has no particular relations to ask about. There is her

grandmother, to be sure--I see no harm in asking after _her._ One must

_say_ something, _miss?_

MISS SKY. (R.) Yes.

PIN. How's your grandmother?

MISS SKY. Very well indeed for her age!

PIN. How old is she?

MISS SKY. Seventy-two--I've told you so twenty times.

PIN. Dear me, then I must have asked that question twenty times. _Now_

what more can I say, I wonder? Is there anything in the room I can

talk about? _(Looks about.)_ Nice place this, isn't it?

MISS SKY. Very!

PIN. So airy?

MISS SKY. Very!

PIN. I've soon finished _that_ subject. I wish she'd say something--I

can't find conversation for _one_, much more two!

MISS SKY. _(Singing.)_ "Oh, bear me to some distant shore or solitary

cell."

PIN. You are partial to singing, ar'n't you?

MISS SKY. Very. Do _you_ sing?

PIN. I never tried but once.

MISS SKY. Indeed!

PIN. It was at a party.

MISS SKY. Indeed!

PIN. Yes, I could hardly get through the first verse of my song. In

fact, I didn't get through it.

MISS SKY. What prevented you?

PIN. When I begun, everybody looked at me so hard, that I felt so

confused that I jumped up, rushed out of the house, and ran all the

way home. And--and when I looked in the glass there, I found I had

come away with the footman's laced hat on my head!

MISS SKY. Singular!

PIN. Yes. _(Aside.)_ Well I think I have talked more to her this

morning than ever I did before--I know I only want encouragement. Oh!

when shall I be able to touch upon the tender topic--I never shall get

heart to venture--it's odd she never alludes to my letters. I suppose

she receives them. I've written another to her, asking for the state

of her feelings--I'll be my own postman, then I shall be sure she has

it. _(Slowly takes a letter from waistcoat pocket.)_ I'll throw it in

her lap, and run out of the house!

[_Throws it in her lap, jumps up, and is running off, when DAMPER'S

voice is heard without._ Huzza! Victory! victory!

_Enter with NIGGLE._

DAM. Ha! ha! I've saved you, you villain! Miss Kitty, once more I've

saved him.

NIG. Who could have thought it?

DAM. That designing woman, Miss Coy, was at the appointed place

waiting for her victim sure enough. There was the chaise too; but what

do you think? there was also the full-grown young man in earnest

conversation with her. When we appeared, he tried to avoid us. We

demanded who he was--she refused to explain. One word led to

another--I told her all I had heard of her. She flew into a rage,

showered her abuse upon me, whilst I dragged away my friend.

[_Loud knocking; NIGGLE runs to window._

NIG. She's at the door, chaise and all. What's to be done?

DAM. She sha'n't come in--let her knock. There is no doubt of the

truth of the report. That young man is her son; and this infatuated

old fellow was going to join his fate with such a character! Hav'n't I

saved you from perdition?

NIG. You have, indeed! My lot in life is clearly developed--I never am

to be married. What am I to do with the cards?

DAM. Burn them.

NIG. What with the cake?

DAM. Eat it--we'll all eat it.

NIG. So we will--so we will.

DAM. Sit down all of you, and be comfortable. _(Hands the cake.)_ Take

a bit, Miss Kitty--Pinkey, bless your bashfulness; 'tis _your_ best

friend--it will prevent you ever making a fool of _yourself._ Niggle,

eat in peace and thankfulness; for I have once more saved you from the

abyss of matrimony. _(Loud knocking, without.)_ Ha! ha! you can't come

in. Go away, woman! go away! Finish the cake, and let the artful

creature knock till she's tired! Go away!

[_Loud knocking continued. They sit eating the cake--NIGGLE throws all

the wedding cards into the air, as the act drop descends._

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

SCENE I.--_Interior of a neat cottage, door and window in flat; table

on the R., a china flower-stand on it. MISS MARIA MACAW discovered,

hemming a handkerchief; she takes a note from the table and reads._

MISS MAC. _(Reading.)_ "Miss Snare will be happy to have the pleasure

of Miss Macaw's company to tea this evening; of course Miss Macaw's

niece is included in the invitation." I am sure I have no inclination

to go, but Jessy insists upon it, she is so anxious to make an

acquaintance with any one, that I'm sure if the gardener were to ask

her to dine with him, she would accept the invite. I hope there will

no men there, the brutes. One of the chief things that has reconciled

me to this country life, is the very few male creatures that I have

met with here. Ah, if I had my will, the sex should be exterminated!

Well, niece?

_Enter MISS JESSY MEADOWS, F.E.L., with a bouquet in her hand._

MISS MEA. Ah, my dear aunt, at your needle as usual. I have been

gathering flowers in our little garden--there. _(She places the

bouquet in the flower-glass on the table.)_ Are they not beautiful? I

love flowers--I have a passion for them.

MISS MAC. You should not use such ardent expressions. It is very

unseemly in a young lady to talk of having a passion for anything,

whether animate or inanimate. If you begin with flowers, you may end

with the same enthusiasm in behalf of a human object; and if that

object were to be a man, I should tremble for the result!

MISS MEA. The most natural result might be matrimony; and is there

anything so very terrible in that, my dear aunt?

MISS MAC. Terrible! I look upon matrimony as the general prologue to

all the tragedies of life.

MISS MEA. To _all_, aunt?

MISS MAC. _All_. From the singular instance of the siege of Troy, to

the connubial pluralities of Henry the Eighth!

MISS MEA. Is it possible, aunt, that you never had an offer in all

your life?

MISS MAC. Never! I always expressed my antipathy to the male sex so

openly, that no man ever ventured a _tête-à-tête_ with _me_; if one

dared to whisper nonsense in _my_ ear, I used to turn and petrify him

at once with a look----

MISS MEA. Like the Gorgon's head on the shield of Minerva--your face

turned every approaching lover to stone!

MISS MAC. Though I have often wished that a man _would_ have the

temerity to make me a sincere proposal.

MISS MEA. What would you do, aunt?

MISS MAC. Accept it at once!

MISS MEA. You would?

MISS MAC. Because, in being a wife, I should have it in my power to

make one of the sex utterly miserable! Oh, if I had a husband, how I

would torment the creature!

MISS MEA. Surely there must be some male person that you do not

entirely dislike--Mr. Chester, for instance?

MISS MAC. I am grateful to Mr. Chester for saving me from the attack

of a ferocious bull when we were walking in the meadows six months

ago; but beyond that simple feeling of gratitude, there is nothing in

common between us.

MISS MEA. He is again passing a few days here. I had the pleasure of

speaking to him last night--he promised to call this morning to pay

his respects to you!

MISS MAC. To _me!_ No, no, miss, I can see through his shallow

artifice! Under pretence of paying his respects to _me_, that he may

have an interview with _you_--there you see. Even a generous young man

that rescued me from the fury of a savage bull, is not exempt from

double dealing.

[_A knock, F.D._

MISS MEA. Here he is. _(Going to the door.)_

MISS MAC. _I_ shall retire.

MISS MEA. Nay, not immediately.

MISS MAC. If I remain, I can only be moderately civil.

MISS MEA. 'Tis all that is required from you, aunt.

[_MISS MEADOWS opens the door._

_Enter MR. CHARLES CHESTER, L._

CHE. Good morning, Miss Macaw. Miss Meadows, I hope you are well; and

you, Miss ---- _(To MISS MACAW.)_

MISS MAC. _(Courtesying profoundly.)_ Quite well, sir.

CHE. Entirely recovered from your alarm six months ago, when I first

met you running from the infuriated animal?

MISS MAC. Entirely--though for some weeks I was excessively nervous. I

assure you I have not been able to dine off beef since!

CHE. You are looking exceedingly well.

MISS MAC. I don't believe you.

CHE. Nay, I assure you----

MISS MAC. Don't utter falsehoods, young man. You know in your heart

that I am not looking well--you merely say so, because you think

flattery is agreeable to our sex. You know that I'm a perfect fright,

but you have not the moral courage to tell me so to my face. You know

you wish me at Jericho at this very moment, only you think it would be

rude to order me out of the room; but I'll spare you any further

duplicity by leaving you. Good morning, sir.

[_She courtesys and goes off, F.E.R._

MISS MEA. My aunt is a singular creature, is she not? though her heart

is good, and, indeed, she is my very best friend. But for her care, I

know not what would become of me.

CHE. I wish I could persuade you to accept of a protection, stronger

and more lasting than any aunt can offer you!

MISS MEA. I understand you--you wish to marry me.

CHE. I do.

MISS MEA. But you are poor.

CHE. Very.

MISS MEA. A painter in water colors.

CHE. And one of very moderate talents.

MISS MEA. You were sketching a landscape when we first met you six

months ago?

CHE. I was, and immediately turned portrait painter; for I drew your

features upon my heart the first moment I gazed upon them.

MISS MEA. And since that moment you have visited this place once every

fortnight?

CHE. Being all the leisure I can afford--otherwise my whole life

should be passed here, could I but command your sweet society.

MISS MEA. During your absence we have been imprudent enough to

correspond, and the result is, that we have written and talked

ourselves into love.

CHE. And when a young gentleman and lady set about mutually confessing

all their thoughts and feelings, their likes and dislikes, their hopes

and fears, what other result could be expected?

MISS MEA. And yet a strange fancy continually haunts me, that in all

our candid confessions you conceal _something_ from me. I cannot bring

myself to believe that I am in possession of every thought, feeling,

or circumstance belonging to you.

CHE. Even there a sympathy exists between us--_I_ am troubled with

precisely the same fancy.

MISS MEA. You think that I practice some little concealment respecting

myself?

CHE. I confess that I do.

MISS MEA. What can it be?

CHE. Ah! what can it be? Perhaps immediate matrimony will remove the

mistrust.

MISS MEA. If you _will_ marry me, you know what you are to expect. I

have no friend but my aunt--you see me as you first knew me, a

half-educated country miss. I think I have a good heart. I know I have

an indifferent temper--right management may certainly do much to

correct that fault--I am very whimsical, very lazy, want a deal of

attention, and can go into something like a passion when offended!

CHE. You don't flatter yourself.

MISS MEA. I wish you to anticipate the worst, so that if you should

find me not so bad as expected, the surprise may be the more agreeable

to you. If you _do_ marry me, it must be entirely for myself. Now if

you persist in your intention, all that I can say is, that you are

indeed a bold man!

CHE. I will be equally as candid with you. You do not reject my

offered hand?

MISS MEA. No.

CHE. Then if you accept me, you will marry a poor artist, who is

entirely dependent on his own exertions--who likes retirement, has no

care for company--who wants to be petted when he complains--his every

whim indulged--who cannot endure contradiction--and, with very

inferior capabilities, wishes ever to be thought most superior in all

things--but one who, amidst this chaos of fault, can still create a

little world of love for you!

MISS MEA. After such a confession, I must be quite as bold a woman as

you are a man, to take you--though when two people set about mutually

confessing their faults, there may be some hope that they intend to

correct them.

CHE. Corrected or not, are you content?

MISS MEA. I am; and there is my hand to the bargain.

CHE. And this kiss upon its white fingers, ratifies the contract!

[_CHESTER kisses her hand--she in return presses his hand to her

lips._

_MISS MACAW enters._

MISS MEA. Signed, sealed, and duly delivered!

MISS MAC. Jessy! I must be deceived--pressing the hand of a man to

your lips! I'm horrified!

MISS MEA. He first pressed mine, aunt; and surely the gallantry should

not always be on one side. We love one another; the passion brings us

to an equality, and I have made up my mind where _I_ love, never to be

less tender, less grateful, or less enthusiastic than he that honors

me with his affection!

MISS MAC. Oh! what revolutionary sentiments! Now miss, I have done

with you for ever. You are henceforth the mistress of your own

actions. Do as you please: but never approach me with your matrimonial

complaints and miseries, for I shall be totally deaf to them!

CHE. It shall be my care, dear madam, to prevent that, by never giving

her cause to complain.

[_A knock at the door._

MISS MAC. Who can this be? Another man, no doubt!

_DAMPER opens the door, and peeps in._

DAM. I beg your pardon, will you allow me to enter?

MISS MAC. I don't know that I shall, sir--one of your sex has

committed sufficient mischief here already!

DAM. _(To MISS MACAW.)_ Don't be afraid of me--you are perfectly out

of harm's way. _(To CHESTER.)_ As my business is with you, sir,

perhaps you will step out to me.

MISS MEA. Oh, sir--pray come in, sir.

DAM. _(Advancing.)_ Mr. Niggle, the gentleman with whom you saw me

yesterday, is my friend.

CHE. Well, sir?

DAM. There are strange tales about, respecting you, sir; and that

female with whom you were discovered in close conversation

yesterday--and, in behalf of my friend, sir, I am here to ask you in

plain language, who you are?

CHE. It can be of little consequence to you sir, who, or what I am.

MISS MEA. A lady! Were you in conversation with a lady yesterday? What

lady?

DAM. Ah, you may well ask. If that person is a stranger here, madam,

whatever may be his intentions, look to him! My friend shall not fall

a victim to the arts of a designing woman! You understand me--_I_ can

see the likeness between you--precisely the same circumventing

countenance!

MISS MEA. A designing woman!--and a likeness between you! Pray

explain.

DAM. Well, sir, I have nothing more to say than this--your refusal to

explain who you are, fully justifies my friend's conduct towards that

female; and any action that she may bring against him, he is quite

prepared to defend. He has had experience in such matters, and snaps

his fingers at you!

MISS MEA. _(To CHESTER.)_ I am afraid there is too much truth in the

fancy that, I confess, troubled me. You are practising concealment

with me, and till you remove every doubt from my mind, you must not

expect further candour from me.

CHE. Nay, hear me.

MISS MEA. Not till you are prepared to explain all. You see what a

temper I have--I do not hide the slightest foible from you, and I

expect equal sincerity at your hands.

[_Exit F.E.L._

CHE. In good time I will explain all; but now I cannot, will not.

[_Exit, following her._

MISS MAC. Well I'm sure. Upon my word, the fellows give themselves

fine airs--coming in here uninvited, and creating

disturbances--fancying themselves authorized by nature to sport with

our feelings, and trample us under foot! And what do _you_ want here,

sir? _(To DAMPER.)_ What right, sir, have you under this roof? Who

sent for you? Why are you standing there making grimaces at me, sir?

DAM. Ha! ha! you are annoyed--I see you are, and it gratifies me; and

my countenance always shows the gratification of my heart! When I see

a woman vexed, I revel in the sight! Go into a rage, do--I should like

to see you furious!

MISS MAC. Oh, dear no, sir; you shall be disappointed. If my anger is

a source of pleasure to you, it shall be subdued immediately. _(Places

him a chair in C.)_ Pray, sir, sit down--make yourself happy! Will you

take a glass of wine? or shall I get my guitar and sing you a love

song?

DAM. _(Sitting down, R.)_ I should like to taste the one and listen to

the other, amazingly; but for once I'll save you your wine and spare

your vocal acquirements, and merely ask you a question, which I am

sure you will answer, as I can perceive I have already made a

favorable impression on your heart.

MISS MAC. Well, sir, I will for once make an effort to be civil. What

do you wish to know?

DAM. Who is that young man?

MISS MAC. I really cannot inform you--I know no more of him than I do

of you; and I need not tell you that I wish to know nothing of either!

DAM. Then, madam, allow me to say that I am astonished.

MISS MAC. At what, sir?

DAM. At a woman of your palpable experience opening your door to a

stranger. How do you know what he may be? An assassin, a sharper, a

seducer, perhaps.

MISS MAC. For the matter of that, sir, this door has been opened to

you, and, for aught I know, _you_ may be one of those characters! Oh,

sir, look indignant if you please, but whatever you may be, in my eyes

your whole sex is hateful. You are all brimful of deceit, design,

villainy, selfishness, and brutality! Had I my will, my door should be

barred and double-locked against your entire gender!

DAM. Ah, you abusive woman! If we _are_ villains, 'tis your abominable

sex that makes us such. If you were not weak, we should not be wicked?

Who lost Mark Antony the world? a woman. Who betrayed the strong man

into the hands of his enemies?--a woman. Who was the origin of all

evil?--a woman, a woman!

MISS MAC. Who leads armies to battle and slaughter?--man. Who

tyrannizes over and enslaves our poor weak sex?--man. Who always plays

the violin while Rome is burning?--man. And if woman _was_ the origin

of all evil, who has cherished and supported evil, heart and soul,

since its first introduction?--man, man!

DAM. And who has helped him?--woman! Good morning!

[_Exit D.F._

MISS MAC. That is the most complete savage I have yet encountered!

_Re-enter CHESTER, L._

CHE. Your niece, madam, desires to see you. If my visit here has at

all annoyed you, believe me I am sorry for it, and can assure you that

the annoyance will not be repeated; for Miss Meadows and I are now as

strangers!

MISS MAC. I am rejoiced to hear it.

CHE. I should have been proud and happy to have made her my wife

without asking one question as to _her_ origin or connexions, so great

was the confidence I reposed in her. She has proved that her faith

cannot equal mine; and on that point we have parted, and for ever!

Good morning.

[_Exit F.D._

MISS MAC. The most pleasant piece of intelligence I have heard to-day.

_Re-enter MISS MEADOWS, F.E.L._

MISS MEA. Has he gone?

MISS MAC. To my great delight he has.

MISS MEA. Will he return?

MISS MAC. I have great hopes that he will not.

MISS MEA. Why does he refuse to explain all to me?

MISS MAC. As he has not asked you any questions, and appears quite

willing to take a blind bargain in marrying you, I think it is but

fair that you should be equally as ridiculous as the gentleman.

MISS MEA. You make no allowance for a woman's natural curiosity--her

proneness to jealousy, weaknesses that do not beset the minds of men

so cruelly as they do ours. He knows _that_, and ought to have

yielded!

MISS MAC. Come, come, my dear, come to your room. _(Crosses to L.)_ I

am very happy that this sad flirtation is at an end--I suspected you

were both exceeding the bounds of discretion; and when you have gained

my experience, you will regard all men with the same stern antipathy

that _I_ do! Come, come, don't cry, dear. We are going out to tea, and

you mustn't cry. Weep for the loss of your kitten--the death of your

bird--the spoiling of a new dress--but scorn to shed one tear for the

loss of a man! It is quite useless; for the monster always carries

such a large umbrella of selfishness, that the most pelting shower of

tears can never, never penetrate him! Come, come.

[_Exit, leading off MISS MEADOWS._

SCENE II.--_A room at MISS SNARE'S--two chairs._

_Enter PINKEY and NIGGLE, F.E.R._

PIN. Before the company comes, I really _do_ want your advice on the

matter. You have had experience with the ladies, Mr. Niggle--you have

often popped in your time, I'll be bound. Pray tell me how do you

begin? Give me a lesson in the art.

NIG. First get a favourable opportunity.

PIN. All in the dark, eh? While you are talking, snuff out the

candles, and _then_, eh?

NIG. No, no, there may seem too much of jest in that. Contrive some

moonlight walk with your lady; or manage to be sitting alone with her

on some lovely autumn evening, in the light of the sinking sun, when

all nature seems going to repose. I popped to my first love on just

such an evening, and had to fight her brother on a wet foggy morning a

month afterwards!

PIN. I'd rather not fight any brothers--I only want to pop to the

sister; I don't want any brothers to be popping at me in return! Oh,

no.

NIG. Get your charmer near the window, looking over a garden if

possible.

PIN. Well.

NIG. Admire the beauty and quiet of the hour.

PIN. Say "What a nice night." I know.

NIG. Then breathe a gentle sigh. Ah! _(Sighing.)_

PIN. Ah! _(Sighing in imitation.)_

NIG. While you affect to be playing with her pocket handkerchief,

gently take her hand.

PIN. Oh my gracious!

NIG. Press it with a delicate ardour.

PIN. Ah! Squeeze it as if I was half afraid.

NIG. Then whisper these words: "Does not a moment like this inspire

you with feelings indescribable?"

PIN. Rather a long speech. Can't I shorten it a little?

NIG. No, no--every word is of value. She will reply "Indeed it

does"--then in the most pathetic tones you can command, you must add:

"For my own part, I feel its influence so strongly here"--placing the

hand you have at liberty on your heart--"that I could live for ever

thus."

PIN. Meaning in that attitude?

NIG. No, no, with your heart full of the passionate feelings you are

to experience at that moment.

PIN. Ah, that's speaking allegorically! Well?

NIG. Of course she will make no reply. Then you must be affected--seem

to dry away a tear--and add with fervour, "till this moment I have

been a miserable man." Let your voice falter on the word miserable.

PIN. _(In a tremulous tone.)_ Miserable!

NIG. That's it; then continue: "'Tis in your power to make me the

happiest being on earth! Will you be mine? dearest angel, will you be

mine? Say yes, and I am blessed indeed; but reject me, and instant

death shall be my portion!" Then fall at her feet, sob audibly, and

hide your face in her lap!

PIN. Lord! I could never do all that--I might get as far as "Will you

be mine?" but even then I think I should rush out of the house without

waiting for the answer. And am I to sob and fall on my knees? _I_

could never do it, bless you--without I first took a few bumpers of

spirits and water. Pray oblige me by writing the speech down for me.

I'll learn it by heart, and I wont wait for an autumn evening, but

take the first favorable opportunity, eh? even if it's to-night, eh?

NIG. Your favorable opportunity is half the battle; and as for the

form of the declaration and proposal, I warrant it--I've tried it five

times myself, and it never failed yet!

PIN. Hush! I hear her voice. Now step into the next room and write it

all down for me, then I'll take her unawares, and pop like fury!

NIG. Take her by storm--take her by storm!

PIN. I will, I will.

NIG. Faint heart, you know----

PIN. Never won fair lady!

NIG. Hush! they're coming--follow me.

[_Exit F.E.L._

PIN. Now or never, I'm resolved!

[_Exit, following._

_Enter MISS SKYLARK, carrying a small basket full of letters, followed

by MISS SNARE, F.E.R._

MISS SNA. And is that basket full of Mr. Pinkey's letters?

MISS SKY. Full.

MISS SNA. How very strange that he can never get courage to express

the feelings, that you say he so beautifully describes in his

epistles. What can be done to make him speak out?

MISS SKY. I suppose I must take his silence as the greatest proof of

his sincerity; for all philosophers have declared that strong

feelings, like great griefs, are generally dumb.

MISS SNA. Then where is the language of love?

MISS SKY. In that case the language of love is no language at all.

MISS SNA. And yet you tell me he writes so beautifully.

MISS SKY. You shall hear. _(They sit; MISS SKYLARK produces a letter

from her basket.)_ Will you have a despairing or an enthusiastic

letter?

MISS SNA. Try me first with a little despair, then the enthusiasm will

relish all the better afterwards.

MISS SKY. Here is one that will suit you then. _(Reading a letter.)_

"Dearest object of my soul--pardon the intrusion of your despairing

admirer--but my passion for you is so intense, that neither night nor

day can I close my eyes!"

MISS SNA. Poor fellow, how badly he must want a night's rest.

MISS SKY. _(Reading.)_ "For ever haunted by your charms, I have no

other relief than in continually describing the feelings of my seared

and desolate heart!" Isn't that beautiful? He must have an

affectionate disposition, or he couldn't express himself so sweetly!

"Seared and desolate!" What beautiful language! It seems only fit to

be sung--never to be merely spoken. _(Singing.)_ "Seared and----"

MISS SNA. Pray don't begin singing your love letters--we shall never

get to the end of one of them.

MISS SKY. I beg your pardon, I was carried away by my feelings. I'll

go on: _(Reading.)_ "If it should be my wretched fate to meet with

your scorn, pray destroy this letter, as you have already destroyed

the happiness of your devoted slave----"

MISS SNA. Eh! Bless me, those words are very familiar to me!

MISS SKY. Familiar to you! Surely he has not been writing to _you?_

MISS SNA. I have that letter in my pocket at this very moment!

MISS SKY. You have. Oh, the little monster!--I'll box his ears!

MISS SNA. Nay, nay, the case is not so bad as you suppose it to be,

though I have a similar letter in my possession, it is not from Mr.

Pinkey.

MISS SKY. I don't understand you--pray explain.

MISS SNA. _(Taking a small book from her pocket.)_ You see this

book--look at its title.

MISS SKY. _(Reading.)_ "The Complete Letter Writer."

MISS SNA. Mr. Pinkey's despairing epistle is copied word for word,

from that book.

MISS SKY. Copied from this book. Oh! the little amatory plagiarist!

MISS SNA. Look and be convinced--turn to page 20.

MISS SKY. _(Reading.)_ "Dear object!"--here it is--even "seared and

desolate" isn't his own. Was there ever such impertinence--Oh! I'm in

such a rage, if he were here I'd fling all his paltry letters in his

face. _(Turning over the leaves of the book.)_ Here they all

are--"Loveliest of women"--"fly on the wings of love"--"meet my

charmer"--"happy in her embraces for ever." Here they all are word for

word. How much did the book cost?

MISS SNA. Eighteen-pence.

MISS SKY. His despairing letters! his ardent letters! his reasonable

letters! his polite letters! all, all copied from this book. And is it

possible that so much despair, so much ardour, so much reason, so much

politeness could have cost him but eighteen-pence; when I had fondly

imagined they had cost him tears, and lonely hours of agony, and sighs

and groans.--Oh! the little monster, if I could meet him now, I'd make

him stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by his letters; I'd

then set fire to them, and see him perish a martyr to his cool

duplicity.

[_A knock._

MISS SNA. Hush! he's here.

MISS SKY. Is he? I'll let him know that my affections are not to be

obtained under false pretences.

[_A knock at the door, F.E.L._

MISS SNA. Come in.

_Re-enter PINKEY with a paper in his hand, F.E.L._

PIN. It's only me. I've got the speech. _(Aside.)_ There's the old

lady come, Miss Snare, and her neice that lives with her; you asked

them here you know to find out who they are. And the strange young

man, that nobody can learn what he can be, is here, too. The ladies

were asking for you, and I said I'd find you for them.

MISS SNA. You're very kind, I'll go to them directly. What do you

think?--the young man that I have watched walking in the fields, every

now and then, with the neice of the old maid at the cottage, and that

we suspect is related to Miss Coy, is actually come here to tea this

evening.

MISS SKY. Have you invited him?

MISS SNA. I caught him making a sketch of my little house here, and I

told him as he seemed so taken with the beauty of its exterior that he

was welcome to step in and survey the interior. Then I told him that

two friends of his were coming here this evening, and that I should be

happy to see him meet them. And he is actually come? _(To PINKEY.)_

PIN. Yes, down stairs walking about by himself.

MISS SNA. Excellent! I long to understand the mystery that not only

seems to surround him, but Miss Coy, and the other two ladies. So what

with them, and Niggle and Damper, who are both coming----

MISS SKY. And of course Mr. Boss?

MISS SNA. Oh, yes; Mr. Boss of course.

MISS SKY. Hem?

MISS SNA. Now don't look so sly at me--I confess the soft impeachment;

but it is purely platonic, it is indeed. Well, when we are altogether,

I expect my tea party will go off with eclat. Come to us as soon as

you can.

PIN. _(Offering his arm to MISS SNARE.)_ Allow me to escort you?

_(Crosses to L.)_

MISS SNA. Oh, no sir; offer your arm to the lady that has the greatest

right to it.

[_Exit MISS SNARE, F.E.L._

PIN. Here's the favourable opportunity come sooner than I expected.

I've got the speech, but have not had time enough to learn it; perhaps

I can recollect a few words and get a sly peep at the others.

MISS SKY. A little piratical object, how I should like to box his

ears; but I'll controul my temper for a moment. _(Crosses to L.)_

PIN. Hem! We are quite alone.

MISS SKY. Yes, I perceive we are.

PIN. Shall we sit down a bit, or how?

MISS SKY. As you please.

[_They sit._

PIN. Hem! Oh, dear! what a twitter I am in. I shall never begin.

MISS SKY. _(Singing without regarding him.)_

"Why so pale and wan, fond lover,

Pr'ythee why so pale?

PIN. I dare say I _am_ pale; but I have made up my mind, and I _will_

begin. Does not a moment like this inspire you with feelings--with

feelings---- _(Looking at his paper aside.)_

MISS SKY. What feelings?

PIN. Indescribable. I've got that out--what a long word, for a man in

a fright. _(Aside.)_

MISS SKY. _(Singing.)_

"Will, when looking well can't win her,

Looking ill prevail?

PIN. Now she ought to say, "indeed it does." Never mind, as I have

ventured so far, on I'll go. For my own part I feel it's influence so

strongly here, that I could live for ever thus. There--that was well

said.

MISS SKY. _(Singing.)_

"Why so dull and mute, young sinner,

Pr'ythee, why so mute?"

PIN. But I'm not mute, Miss Skylark; till this moment I have been a

miserable man--till this moment I have been--Zounds, what comes next?

A miserable man--oh, my stars, I'm fixed for want of a word--a

miserable man----

MISS SKY. Have you indeed. Ah! _(Sighing.)_

PIN. She sighs. If half the speech has such an effect, what will all

of it do? _(Looking at his paper.)_ Oh, here's the next word.

_(Continuing.)_ 'Tis in your power----

MISS SKY. Ah! _(Sighing again.)_

PIN. Another sigh. I'm getting on.

MISS SKY. Dear object of my soul.

PIN. Oh, good heavens! I didn't expect such language. Oh! I'm all of a

tremble.

MISS SKY. My passion for you is so intense.

PIN. Oh, she's popping to me and saving me all the bother.

MISS SKY. That neither night nor day can I close my eyes.

PIN. Eh? Oh, my! that's the beginning of one of my letters.

MISS SKY. How beautifully you do express yourself.

PIN. Do I?

MISS SKY. You see this bundle. _(Producing her bundle of letters.)_

Here are all your cherished letters; I need not tell you how I prize

them.

PIN. I ought to sob and fall in her lap now. _(Takes out his

pocket-handkerchief and tries to sob.)_ I cant. I dont feel at all

inclined to cry. Perhaps I shall, presently.

MISS SKY. If the contents of these billets----

PIN. Billys! Oh, ah--I understand.

MISS SKY. Were not copied from the complete letter-writer----

PIN. Oh, I'm found out. Well did I ever. Oh, there's no falling at her

feet, now.

MISS SKY. I need not confess they would be doubly dear to me----

PIN. Oh, there's no harm done. _(He draws his chair closer to her.)_

MISS SKY. But, as they are mere second-hand declarations, permit me to

return them. There--there--there and there.

[_She throws all the letters and basket at him and runs off; he

remains covered with them. PINKEY regards them bewildered; gathers

them together and puts them into his handkerchief._

PIN. This comes of trying a warranted speech. And are these all my

letters? What trouble I have taken, and in vain too. I'll seal them up

again--they'll come in for somebody else! There's some one at the

door.

[_He has placed all the letters in the basket, and conceals it behind

him._

_Enter BOSS, F.E.L._

BOSS. Pinkey, my man, they are waiting tea for you up stairs. Miss

Snare wants you to assist me in handing the toast. What's the matter

with you man? you look bewildered--a tiff with your lady I suppose.

[_PINKEY utters a deep groan and goes off F.E.L._

Poor fellow, I'm afraid he's unfortunate in his choice; though I

suppose one must marry, it seems a necessary duty to society. I can't

confess that I'm in love, yet there seems to be a something about Miss

Snare that is very agreeable. She admires me that's clear; and, as I

admire myself, there is certainly some sympathy between us. The

Spartan laws considered bachelors as infamous: I think I have a little

of the Spartan in me, and am half inclined to be of their opinion.

I'll turn the matter over in my mind.

[_Exit F.E.L._

SCENE III.--_A large room at MISS SNARE'S--In the S.E.R. is a

fire-place, mantle-piece, looking-glass, &c., complete; a fender

before it bearing toast, crumpets, &c.; a table on the L., on which is

a complete tea-service, urn, &c.--MISS SNARE is presiding at the

tea-table--PINKEY and BOSS are handing the tea and toast--PINKEY is

very nervous and confused--BOSS takes every opportunity of surveying

himself in the glass--PINKEY'S chair is on the L. of the fire-place,

that of BOSS on the R.--NIGGLE is next to PINKEY--DAMPER to

NIGGLE--CHESTER to DAMPER--MISS SKYLARK near CHESTER--MISS MEADOWS

behind the tea-table, facing the audience--MISS MACAW in front of it

on the L.--All laughing as the scene is discovered._

DAM. _(Drinking tea.)_ Ah, you may laugh, it was a miraculous escape,

he was within a hairs breadth of the noose; but I saved his neck for

him.

MISS MAC. I wish you had tied yourself up in it instead. How I should

rejoice to see you caught in the toils.

DAM. If you could be tied up with me, I should not care for my own

torments, while I could behold yours.

PIN. _(Handing toast to NIGGLE, and speaking aside to him.)_ Oh! Such

a climax to my attempt at a pop.

NIG. Did you try the speech?

PIN. Only half of it, I was cut short--tell you by and bye.

MISS SNA. Hand Miss Skylark some toast Mr. P. Put some coals on the

fire, and bring me Mr. Damper's cup.

PIN. Yes, ma'am.

DAM. _(To CHESTER.)_ I did not expect the pleasure of meeting _you_

here, sir.

CHE. I am sure, to find you in the presence of ladies, is an event

quite as unexpected by me.

MISS MAC. I dare say it is, sir.

MISS SNA. _(To CHESTER.)_ Do you intend permanently residing in this

town?

CHE. I am undecided at present.

DAM. Intend to live with your _relation_, perhaps?

CHE. Sir!

DAM. _(To NIGGLE.)_ That was a home thrust. Observe how he avoids it.

MISS SNA. _(Loudly.)_ Coals, Mr. Pinkey, and you don't attend to Miss

Skylark.

PIN. _(Jumping up.)_ Oh, I'd forgot.

[_PINKEY seizes the coal-scuttle, and, in his confusion, is about to

empty its contents into MISS SKYLARK'S lap._

MISS SKY. _(Rising.)_ What are you doing, sir?

ALL. Mr. Pinkey!

PIN. _(Running to his chair.)_ I--I--don't know what I'm doing.

I--want to go home. I'm a little out of sorts--and----

[_A loud knocking heard._

NIG. _(Starts.)_ That's very like her knock. Do you expect another

visitor, Miss Snare?

MISS SNA. _(Rising, and going to F.E.L.)_ No I do not. _(Looking

off.)_ It's a friend of your's, Mr. Niggle. Pray walk in, Miss Coy;

pray walk in.

NIG. It is she.

DAM. Don't be alarmed, I am with you--don't be alarmed.

_Enter MISS CAROLINE COY, dressed in bridal white, F.E.L.; she enters

in a dignified manner._

MISS COY. _(Courtesying round her.)_ Good afternoon. I am sorry to

disturb you. So, all assembled, the entire force of my traducers in

full array before me. I am delighted to meet you all.

NIG. I think she carries the calm dignity of innocence in her manner.

DAM. All artifice.

MISS COY. _(Seeing CHARLES.)_ _You_ here too?

CHE. _(Advancing to her, R.)_ Let them say what they will of you, my

secret must be kept. If your intended possesses a real regard for you,

it is not a mere tale of scandal that can turn him from you.

MISS COY. I am in such a fury--feel so insulted.

CHE. Then shower your wrath on their heads.

MISS COY. I shall not spare them, be assured. _(Sits.)_

DAM. _(To NIGGLE.)_ Whispering, you see--agreeing both to tell the

same story.

MISS SNA. Tea, Miss Coy?

MISS COY. Presently, miss. Hem!

DAM. _(To NIGGLE.)_ Clearing her throat to begin.

NIG. If she plays upon my feelings I'm done for.

DAM. She is sure to try to do that--they _all_ try to do that.

MISS COY. You must be all well aware by this time, that I was about to

be married to that fluctuating bachelor, Mr. Niggle, and, that the

match is broken off, as much through the interference of his friend,

as his want of the moral courage, necessary for so important an act as

matrimony.

ALL. _(But DAMPER and NIGGLE.)_ Ha! ha! Moral courage for matrimony.

DAM. _(To NIGGLE.)_ Don't let them have the laugh against you. Speak

out, speak out.

NIG. _(Rising.)_ I confess it has been a want of moral courage: for,

long as I have pined for the joys of conjugal life, such is my

universal admiration of the fair sex, that if I _have_ hesitated to

pass my life in the society of _one_ female, 'twas in fear that I

should discover some radical defect of temper or manner, that might

disturb my notions of woman generally; and I rather prefer to admire

you through the gay medium of fancy, than venture to take a peep at

you through the pale optics of truth.

ALL. Hear! hear! hear!

MISS COY. And yet if you could find a woman that would be happy only

in your presence, who would receive you with smiles and see you depart

with tears, who would anticipate your every wish, be your companion,

friend and comforter, you would cast aside your scruples and boldly

dare the worst. I am but repeating your own words, once uttered to me.

DAM. Were you ever such an idiot as to say so much?

NIG. Yes, yes, it was in a tender moment.

PIN. On some autumn evening, eh?

MISS SKY. I think, sir, we had better commence a general election for

the honor of possessing your hand. Let each candidate publish her list

of pledges, and she that may exhibit one that could approach the

nearest to your wishes, should be chosen as the representative of your

conjugal happiness.

NIG. I am afraid the election once settled, as in other cases, many of

the pledges would be forgotten; and a wife is a member that there is

no unseating, let her disqualifications be ever so unconstitutional.

DAM. Hear! hear! hear!

PIN. Cheers from the opposition.

BOSS. Silence, Pinkey.

MISS COY. _(Rises.)_ I am here to vindicate my character, not to

expostulate with you, sir. _(To NIGGLE.)_ Miss Snare.

MISS SNA. Madam.

MISS COY. You, in particular, have been making use of my name very

freely.

MISS SNA. What have I said.

MISS COY. Said! The other evening at Mr. Tattle's, you said that my

only motive for going to a watering place every summer, was for the

purpose of riding a donkey, that the awkward paces of the animal might

so set off my natural graces, that some wandering Lothario might be

struck by them.

MISS SNA. I see nothing offensive in the remark.

BOSS. _(In his chair, F.E.R.)_ An elegant compliment _I_ think.

MISS COY. Don't talk to me, puppy. _(To BOSS.)_

BOSS. My dear Miss, I am sorry to see you so bitter, though I am not

surprised at it. The superanuated beauty is ever the most acrimonious

of old maids; as the finest Burgundy, when spoiled, produces the

sharpest vinegar.

ALL. _(But NIGGLE.)_ Ha! ha! ha!

[_MISS SNARE kisses her hand to BOSS; he rises and looks at himself in

the glass._

NIG. I cant allow this. Miss Coy's feelings shall not be trifled with.

MISS COY. Oh, sir, your championship is now too late, had it been

exerted yesterday morning, this scene might have been spared.

_(Sobbing.)_

NIG. She's crying: I can't see her cry. _(Rising.)_

DAM. _(Pulling him to his seat.)_ Sit down. All women can command

tears.

MISS MAC. _(Rising and calling to DAMPER.)_ Oh! you brute. Oh! you

brute.

MISS MEA. Aunt, pray keep your seat and your temper.

MISS COY. _(Recovering herself.)_ And you, Miss Skylark, you must make

_your_ little additions to the tittle-tattle.

MISS SKY. I.

MISS COY. A female adventurer, am I? deep in debt, and only anxious

for a husband to remove that burthen from my shoulders; that I loiter

in shady lanes, and pretend to study botany as an excuse for solitary

walks; that I practice attitudes, sighs, and simulate fainting to

attract attention.

MISS SKY. Never said a thing of the sort, miss, and the consciousness

that you have really been so ridiculous, has alone made you suppose

such things to have been applied to you. _(She returns to her seat.)_

PIN. _(Advancing with great courage.)_ Oh, come, come, Miss, if that

lady _has_ said that you were a botanist, and practice antics, I see

no such harm in it.

MISS COY. You see, sir: what can it matter what you may see, sir?

PIN. Perhaps it don't; but it may matter what I can hear. Ah, you may

look, I'll make _my_ little additions now, and then. I give you leave

to turn all your vengeance on me, in lieu of attacking that lady.

_(Pointing to MISS SKYLARK.)_ Very fine indeed, to sit here pretending

not to know your own son.

DAM. Well said, Pinkey--excellent.

NIG. If the little monster insults her, I'll knock him down.

MISS COY. What does the lunatic mean?

PIN. It's not very often that I can say much, but when the fit is on

me I can find words as fast as anybody, to express my meaning.

DAM. Express your strongest, Pinkey.

NIG. _(Striving to leave his seat, is kept back by DAMPER.)_ He shall

not.

DAM. Sit down and hear all.

PIN. Now, ma'am, while I'm in the vein I'll have my say. You know that

person there _(Pointing to CHESTER.)_ is your clandestine son, and if

Mr. Niggle had been unfortunate enough to have fallen a victim to your

wiley arts, he would have found himself, not only the surreptitious

father-in-law of a full grown young man, but responsible for a budget

of bills, from milliners, linen-drapers, wig-makers, butchers, and

wine depóts--and--that's all.

DAM. And quite enough I think. Look at her, see how confounded she is

now.

MISS COY. _(Falling into her chair.)_ Well, this is the _climax_ of

scandal.

[_MISS MEADOWS rises and comes forward, followed by MISS MACAW._

MISS MEA. _(To MISS MACAW.)_ Pray let us leave the house.

CHE. _(Advancing and detaining her.)_ Are we never to meet again?

MISS MEA. Never, while so much mystery surrounds you.

MISS COY. _(To MISS MACAW.)_ A word with you, madam, if you please.

MISS MAC. With me?

MISS COY. If that gentleman _is_ so closely related to me a reported,

it becomes my positive duty to warn him against forming any connection

with you, madam, and your supposed niece, there.

MISS MAC. What may you have to warn him against?

MISS COY. (R.) Look at the "Weekly Tell-tale," you are drawn there in

your true colors. A run-away Opera dancer, and an insolvent

boarding-house keeper, are not the most desirable connexions for any

young bachelor.

MISS MAC. (C.) Pray, madam, which may I be; the dancer or the

housekeeper?

MISS COY. Whichever you prefer, madam.

MISS MAC. Oh! the villiany of the world. This, sir, must be some of

_your_ malice. _(To DAMPER.)_

DAM. No, no, I wish it was.

CHE. _(To MISS MEADOWS.)_ There, now we are both surrounded by

mystery.

MISS MEA. A greater reason than ever that we part.

CHE. A greater reason than ever that we should be the defenders of one

another. Let slander do its worst--I repeat it aloud--let slander do

its worst; for then is the time that we should surround our friends

and defeat its malice. Then is the hour that the lover should be the

more devoted; and, I here prove my devotion, by proclaiming before you

all, that, let these ladies be under the worst of imputations, I am

proud of the friendship of one, and shall be but too happy, to test my

love for the other, by being her husband as soon as she will bestow

upon me that happy title.

MISS MEA. Ah! do I find myself surpassed in generosity; then, indeed,

we are friends once more. _(Giving him her hand.)_

CHE. (L.) There you fluctuating bachelor, _(To NIGGLE.)_ when you wish

to prove your affection, listen not to every idle tale, shrink at

every paltry inuendo; but advance to the rescue of your ladies fame.

Come, Miss Macaw, never heed slanderers, the ripest and the richest

fruit is ever the most pecked. _(Taking the arms of MISS MACAW and

MISS MEADOWS in his own.)_ Come, ladies, I will accompany you home.

Mother! _(To MISS COY.)_ since they will have it so, when you have

fought your good fight, you know where to find me. Come, ladies; Miss

Snare, good evening to you, thanks for your hospitality and its happy

results.

[_Exeunt with MISS MACAW and MISS MEADOWS._

NIG. He's right, he's right, this is the time that I ought to prove my

love, if I have any.

DAM. You _will_ rush into danger.

NIG. _(Passing DAMPER.)_ Oh, Miss Coy, whoever that young man may be,

his sentiments do honour to his heart. I have been weak, but----

MISS COY. Nay, sir, your penitence is useless now, circumstances have

occurred since yesterday, that make the division between us wider than

ever.

NIG. What circumstances?

MISS COY. There is no necessity for explanation; you are free to rove

where you will, and may the next confiding creature that accepts your

proposal be more fortunate than I have been. _(Going.)_

NIG. Nay, nay, don't go, dear, don't go. Damper, I must be married:

think of the delights of a domestic temple of repose--a cheerful wife.

MISS COY. Ah, sir, strike the balance between celibacy and matrimony,

I will assist you. Go on, sir,--a cheerful wife----

NIG. Angelic!

DAM. Sometimes cross as the devil.

NIG. Ah, true!

MISS COY. Dear, rosy children welcoming your return home.

NIG. Ah, delightful!

DAM. To plague and torment you with their noise, and their screaming

and fighting all the time you are there.

NIG. Ah, true!

MISS COY. To find every comfort that can make life endurable.

NIG. Oh, charming!

DAM. With heavy bills for their enjoyment, every week.

NIG. Ah, true!

MISS COY. (R.) To look round you, and say, this house is my paradise.

NIG. (C.) Oh, happiness!

DAM. (L.) Till some one runs away with your wife.

NIG. Oh, Lord! There's all my courage gone at once. No, I never shall

get married.

MISS COY. Remain then as you are, sir, a melancholy bachelor. Be

guided by your friend, sir, do; be guided by a man that supposes he

has formed a perfect acquaintance with our sex, when the creature

never had a female friend that confided her heart's feelings to him in

all his life. Go, sir. Enjoy your freedom; _(Crosses to L.)_ but

abandon all hope of me, for an obstacle to our union, now exists, that

cannot be removed.

[_Exit F.E.L._

NIG. _(To DAMPER.)_ I don't know whether to regard you as my good or

my evil genius; but, whichever you are, I must follow her.

DAM. Don't be weak.

NIG. What is the obstacle that for ever prevents our union?

DAM. _Me_, I dare say; yet, whatever it may be, don't seek to know--be

ignorant and be blest.

NIG. I must, I will know; such is the perversity of human nature, that

now I have lost all hope of being a married man, I have a greater

longing than ever for the name. I _will_ follow her and learn the

obstacle.

DAM. Stay where you are.

NIG. I can't. I feel that I can't.

DAM. Then I'll go with you.

NIG. You had better not.

DAM. I will.

NIG. You had better not.

DAM. I will.

[_NIGGLE runs off, F.E.L.; DAMPER follows. MISS SNARE and BOSS have

been flirting during the foregoing dialogue. PINKEY has kept his seat

near the fire, not daring to move, as MISS SKYLARK has been constantly

regarding him._

MISS SNA. What an extraordinary series of events, for one afternoon,

and no learning who or what Miss Macaw and her neice are.

BOSS. Or their gentleman either. It's all very singular. Pinkey, my

man, we are going to give you another opportunity; profit by it.

PIN. Oh, don't leave me, pray don't.

BOSS. Try again, man; try again.

MISS SNA. And avoid copying letters.

PIN. Oh! those letters.

MISS SNA. Now, Mr. Boss, will you step and look at my little parterre?

BOSS. Really, I'm no _florist_.

MISS SNA. But you always make some valuable observation, whatever you

may be regarding--you can't help it--your natural good taste is so

prevailing.

BOSS. Do you think so, really?

MISS SNA. Sincerely I do.

BOSS. Upon my life you are a very agreeable creature.

MISS SNA. It requires little effort to be agreeable where you are.

BOSS. 'Pon my honour, you'll make me actually in love--

MISS SNA. Ah!

BOSS. With myself.

MISS SNA. Oh!

[_Exeunt MISS SNARE and BOSS; PINKEY rises, and makes an effort to run

out of the room; MISS SKYLARK rises._

MISS SKY. I am sorry to see you so embarrassed, Mr. Pinkey; the

indignation that I expressed this afternoon when I returned your

letters, has been entirely removed by your generous conduct in

defending me. Don't attempt to speak just now; because I know you

can't if you were to try. Think of what I have said; but pray avoid my

presence till you have acquired sufficient courage to express your

wishes. Good evening, I leave you like--_(Singing.)_

"The last rose of summer

Left blooming alone;

Whose lovely companions

Are faded and gone."

[_Exit._

PIN. _(Rising with energy.)_ I must and I will shake off my shyness.

What can I do? I'll run home and try what a bottle or two of port--or

sherry--or a bottle of each will do for me. I cannot live this life,

it's killing me by inches. Oh! she's coming back--I will make a

desperate rush--a kind of despair seems to fill my heart that gives me

a sort of courage; and, if it isn't of the right sort, it may answer

just as well. I wont wait to look at her, that always does for me--I

wont wait to think--I'll only say--"Will you be mine." Then if she

says "Yes," there's an end of the matter. No more speeches--all

rubbish--a few words--short and to the point, that's the way--I know

it--I feel it.

_MISS MACAW enters F.E.L.; PINKEY'S back is towards her._

MISS MAC. I've left my reticule.

[_PINKEY rushes towards her and falls on both his knees._

PIN. Will you be mine?

MISS MAC. _(Boxing his ears.)_ That's for your impertinence, sir.

PIN. It's the wrong woman, and all my courage has been thrown away.

I'll really beg----

MISS MAC. How dare you, sir?

PIN. I didn't know.

MISS MAC. Have I ever encouraged you?

PIN. No, no, you never did.

MISS MAC. Begone, contemptible creature. _(Stamps her foot; PINKEY

runs off in alarm, L.)_ A little presumptuous mortal, to dare to take

such a liberty. Where's my reticule? _(Searching the chairs.)_

DAM. _(Without.)_ Oh, here, is she?

_Enter DAMPER, F.E.L._

DAM. I've made up my mind now, what to do. He will not be guided by me

any longer, he _will_ rush to his ruin; but I'll first get married

myself, to show him how right I am in all that I said of the misery of

the state. Miss Maria Macaw.

MISS MAC. Sir.

DAM. I have been looking for you. Sit down.

MISS MAC. I sha'n't.

DAM. I want to tell you something.

MISS MAC. Well, sir, tell it.

DAM. I hate you.

[_They sit._

MISS MAC. Well, sir, and I hate you.

DAM. Then we ought to be married.

MISS MAC. What?

DAM. I say we ought to be married; because we shall begin at the right

end. All the rest of the world begin with love and finish with hating.

We will be wiser--begin with hate and perhaps--I say perhaps end with

love. I mean what I say--I have a motive for what I am saying. Do you

hate me heartily enough to marry me?

MISS MAC. I do, sir.

DAM. You can't endure me?

MISS MAC. I think you a most hateful person.

DAM. You, to me, are a perfect Gorgon.

MISS MAC. I'm very happy to hear it.

DAM. And if we do come together, we'll strive all in our power to make

each other miserable.

MISS MAC. I'll do my best, be assured.

DAM. Thwart each other in every thing.

MISS MAC. If you want to walk, I'll insist upon riding.

DAM. Agreed!

MISS MAC. When you want to be silent, I'll talk you to death.

DAM. Agreed!

MISS MAC. And annoy you night and day in every possible manner--think

of nothing else----

DAM. Excellent!

MISS MAC. Study nothing else.

DAM. Delicious! There's my hand, whatever you are--whoever you may

be--whatever your character, there's my hand.

MISS MAC. And there, sir, is mine. _(Presenting her hand.)_

DAM. Fright!

MISS MAC. Brute!

DAM. A kiss?

MISS MAC. No.

DAM. Yes. The first and the last.

MISS MAC. On that condition, there.

[_She presents her cheek; DAMPER kisses her._

_NIGGLE runs on and stands in amazement._

NIG. _(Exclaims in surprise.)_ Damper!

[_DAMPER and MISS MACAW sit looking at each other, with great

ferocity, as the act drop descends._

END OF ACT II.

ACT III.

SCENE I.--_The cottage--same as first scene of second act--Chairs,

tables as before._

_MISS MEADOWS, L. and CHESTER, R., discovered._

CHE. Now, Jessy, I think we clearly understand each other?

MISS MEA. Perfectly. We agree to marry with a mystery hanging over

each of us. My poor aunt and I, through our retired mode of living,

are supposed to be very suspicious persons, and yet you are ready and

willing to give me your hand, let me turn out to be what I may?

CHE. For better or for worse, in every sense of the word.

MISS MEA. And I undertake to be equally as rash in accepting you.

CHE. We shall gain one point by this blind bargain--we are assured

that we love one another for ourselves alone.

MISS MEA. Ah! how charming is that assurance--and how miserable to

possess wealth, attracting a train of suitors with not one sincere,

disinterested heart amongst them.

CHE. Poor as I am, an heiress is my aversion--not that money lowers

the worth of woman; but that its worshippers pervert her

understanding, harden her heart, and teach her a false estimate of

herself.

MISS MEA. Give me love in a cottage.

CHE. Or a second floor in London, amongst several layers of lodgers.

MISS MEA. Ah! charming.

CHE. Two knocks and a ring for the artist--then to think of painting

portraits of people so atrociously ugly, that it is more than one's

poor half guinea is worth not to flatter them. To roam through

Battersea or Walworth in search of the picturesque, till a stroke of

fortune promotes one to the situation of drawing master to some

suburban academy.

MISS MEA. Oh, delightful! to walk twenty miles twice a week for as

many pounds per annum. And what must _I_ do? _I_ must not be

idle--I'll commence milliner--trim caps--fabricate flounces, and wait

upon fantastical ladies with patterns of the last new toque--and with

my needlework and your painting--my industry and your enthusiasm--we

shall be happy--I am sure we shall!

_Enter MISS MACAW, F.E.L._

Good day, aunt, we have not had the pleasure of seeing you since your

return home last night--it was very kind of that barbarian, Mr.

Damper, to escort you to the door--I saw him leave you from my window.

MISS MAC. 'Twas no more than the creature's duty.

MISS MEA. His duty!

MISS MAC. You have often heard me declare that my aversion to the male

sex was so great, that the man who could be bold enough to propose to

me, with the prospect of misery that must be his portion in the union,

I would accept him instantly--now Mr. Damper----

MISS MEA. }

} What?

CHE. }

MISS MAC. Mr. Damper has said that he hates me sufficiently to marry

me; and, as the passion is mutual, I have taken him at his

word--to-morrow morning I change my name.

MISS MEA. So soon, aunt?

MISS MAC. If you are surprised at our haste, you must consider that we

have little of life's time to lose; and, what in you would be

indelicate precipitancy, with us, is but common prudence.

MISS MEA. Are you serious, aunt?

MISS MAC. Matrimony is not a subject to jest upon, whatever may be

your notions of the important engagement.

MISS MEA. Bless me!

_Enter NIGGLE, D.F., in haste._

NIG. _(To CHESTER.)_ Young man, where's your mother? Pray excuse me--I

mean the lady--the relation--the friend--though I care not who she may

be--you know the person I mean.

CHE. Miss Coy?

NIG. Yes--I have been in search of her every where--all last

night--all to-day--Daphne never led Apollo such a chase as that dear

creature has given me.

CHE. For what?

NIG. To tell her that I can't live without her--to tell her that my

anti-matrimonial persuader is removed--that I'm a free man, and that I

wish to marry her immediately--and repair the wrong that I have done

her at once--before my connubial furor may again fluctuate.

CHE. She is gone----

NIG. Gone! Where?

CHE. To London!

NIG. Ah, my cruelty has driven her there.

CHE. That, and the flight of an agent, to whose care she had entrusted

her property.

NIG. Eh! what? flight of an agent--is she then in distress?--without a

penny?

CHE. 'Tis feared so, sir.

NIG. Huzza! That was the obstacle she alluded to--that is the reason

she has avoided me--I am glad of it--I have now an opportunity of

proving the disinterestedness of my passion for her. [_DAMPER appears

F.D._] Oh, madam _(To MISS MACAW.)_--what do I not owe to you? 'Tis

you--you have removed this incubus--'Tis _you_ that have spurred this

nightmare from my bosom, to take him to your own. Generous woman, let

me embrace you.

[_He warmly embraces MISS MACAW, who rises with great indignation._

MISS MAC. Sir! how dare you? The first time that I ever was embraced

by a man in my life! How dare you, sir, take that liberty? Had I been

aware of your indecorous intention I should have slapped your face--I

would, sir--Ugh! the sensation is more repulsive than I ever imagined

it to be.

NIG. My dear madam--my gratitude was so----

DAM. _(Coming between them.)_ John! John!--you must learn to suppress

such grateful feelings--my miseries are beginning already. Before the

knot is actually tied, another is kissing my intended wife.

NIG. Then let me get one of my own, and never again will I be under

such an obligation to you--I could not controul my grateful

impulse--but I am wasting time, I must follow my fate immediately.

DAM. Where are you going?

NIG. To bring back the dear creature whose feelings I have so trifled

with, and make an instant reparation by following your example.

_(Going.)_

DAM. Stop, stop!

NIG. Pray don't attempt to shake my resolution--I wont hear you.

DAM. I but wish to exact one promise from you.

NIG. What is it?

DAM. That you will give my arguments fair play, that you wont marry

till I have been a wretched man a month.

NIG. Don't exact the promise--pray don't--it may be years before I am

again in such a marrying mood. I'll return--I will, indeed--pray wish

me success--but I don't despair--I feel quite an ardent lover again.

Though I am not running away with a lady I am running after

one--eh?--Ha! ha!--good bye. Now for a post chaise and a hot

pursuit--for a last attack on this formidable castle of connubiality,

or death in its trenches.

[_Exit D.F._

DAM. Poor man--poor man.

CHE. _I_ have also received an invitation to this manor-house, with a

request to bring a lady on my arm.

DAM. So have I--of course I must take _you._ _(To MISS MACAW.)_

MISS MAC. What lady else _ought_ you to take, sir?

CHE. Who is the party residing there?

DAM. I don't know; the house has been shut up for some time--it has

undergone complete repair--new furniture from London has been seen

going in--a set of servants are there, but who the party is that has

invited me, I neither know nor care to know.

[_Goes up the stage, followed by MISS MACAW._

CHE. Let us leave this loving couple to themselves--will you accompany

me to this Manor house to-night?

MISS MEA. Certainly, if you wish for my society.

CHE. Wish for your society!--Jessy--I must now remove the

mask--nothing can occur _now_ to prevent our happiness--and you

_shall_ know who and what I am--I am burning with impatience to tell

you----

MISS MEA. _(Interrupting.)_ I hope you are what you have seemed to be;

if you are _not_ poor, I shall never love you; if you are not the

indigent struggling creature I have believed you to be, there is an

end of all--there shall be no marriage--no love in a cottage--no

second floor in London--I have done with you for ever.

CHE. Hear me, Jessy.

MISS MEA. Well, I will hear you--step this way--in the garden we shall

be free from interruption; and there, when you have told me the whole

truth, if I discover that you have deceived me--I--I shall break my

heart with vexation.

[_Exeunt F.E.L._

DAM. (R.) What is the matter with them, I wonder--quarrelling of

course--all that the men and women seem to have to do when they get

together--all that they are fit for I know. Now, madam, for our

affair--to-morrow morning, the ceremony over, you go to my house.

MISS MAC. (L.) If I please.

DAM. Indeed! Now as I naturally do not wish to receive more punishment

than my crime, as a matter of course, will bring with it, tell me who

and what you are.

MISS MAC. A lady! What are you?

DAM. A gentleman.

MISS MAC. Independent?

DAM. Seven hundred a year. You are without a sixpence, of

course?--hope you are--extravagant, I dare say, then I shall soon be a

beggar.

MISS MAC. I am happy to say, sir, that I need never require your help

in pecuniary matters.

DAM. Sorry for it. Many relations? I hope you have an army of poor

ones--that _will_ serve me right.

MISS MAC. I have not, sir.

DAM. Dear me, I am afraid I shall be too comfortable. How old are you?

MISS MAC. That is a question, sir, that no woman can ever pardon being

put to her. Your other insulting queries I replied to at once, and

rather admired the brutal spirit that prompted them, than felt annoyed

at their utter want of feeling. But to ask a woman her age! 'Tis a

sin, sir--'tis giving encouragement to lying; for a man is assured,

when he puts _that_ question, he can never be told the truth.

DAM. Ha! ha! This is delicious--this is a foretaste of my approaching

bliss--this is a gleam of the light of happiness that is in future to

shine full upon me. Oh!--what it's your weak side, eh? I'm delighted

to have discovered it--when we are married I'll ask the question every

night and morning during our bitter honey-moon.

MISS MAC. You shall be disappointed, sir; we are not yet man and

wife--I knew you to be a brute; but I never thought you a fool--and

the latter character is one that I rather pity than despise. To pity

you would be to admit a feeling akin to love, and any approach to love

for you, would be to admit an affection for a bear, or a rhinoceros,

or any other monstrosity of nature. No, sir! I have now done with

you--find some other female to worry--Miss Maria Macaw leaves you to

your single blessedness.

[_Exit F.E.L._

DAM. Is she in earnest now, or is this some little specimen of antique

coquetry? After having made up my mind to make a woman miserable, I

should not like to be disappointed: I had set my heart upon worrying a

wife to death--to have some one to vent all my ill-humours upon--to

snarl at--to find fault with--to be angry when she was pleased, and

pleased only when she was angry--and to thwart and vex continually--I

should have revelled in such a life, and have been delighted in

letting every one see what a wretched state is the married one. She

can't mean it--Oh, no--no--'tis but one of the coquettish arts of her

artful sex--I'll retaliate--I'll call upon Miss Skylark or some other

woman, and take her on my arm to this party, to-night--_I'll_ be a

coquette--a _male_ coquette--and fight her with her own weapons.

_Re-enter CHESTER; he paces the stage, DAMPER following him. Crosses

to R._

CHE. Oh! the perversity of womankind: I thought she would have been

surprised and delighted at the intelligence that I had wooed and won

her under a false appearance, that instead of a struggling life of

poverty, I could offer her one of wealth and comfort, and that my

reason for such concealment was, that I might find one who would love

me for myself alone. Why should she be angry? Why should she hear me

with such indignation? Oh! woman--woman!

DAM. A diabolical sex, isn't it, sir? I always said so--nobody would

believe _me_--no one heeded _my_ words--but now you'll be a proselyte

to creed, wont you?

CHE. I'll go to the manor house----

DAM. So will I.

CHE. With another----

DAM. That's what _I_ intend to do.

CHE. If I can find a lady to accompany me.

DAM. Let us go out together and pick up the first pair we can

meet--you choose the youngest, I the oldest. Take my arm--there are

two or three women in this town that I hate mortally, we'll call on

them--I'll introduce you, and we'll take our choice.

CHE. I thought to see her face beam with delight.

DAM. One never can tell how they intend to look.

CHE. Oh, Jessy!

DAM. Oh, Maria!

CHE. Oh, woman! perverse----

DAM. Artful----

CHE. Capricious----

DAM. Never-know-where-to-have-'em woman!

[_Exeunt D.F._