_Enter Mrs._ Racket, _and Miss_ Ogle.
_Miss Ogle._ And so Miss Hardy is actually to be married to-night?
_Mrs. Rack._ If her Fate does not deceive her. You are apprised of the
scheme, and we hope it will succeed.
_Miss Ogle._ Deuce, take her! she's six years younger than I am.
(_Aside_)--Is Mr. Doricourt handsome?
_Mrs. Rack._ Handsome, generous, young, and rich.----There's a Husband
for ye! Isn't he worth pulling caps for?
_Miss Ogle._ I' my conscience, the Widow speaks as though she'd give
cap, ears, and all for him. (_Aside._) I wonder you didn't try to catch
this wonderful Man, Mrs. Racket?
_Mrs. Rack._ Really, Miss Ogle, I had not time. Besides, when I marry,
so many stout young fellows will hang themselves, that, out of regard to
society, in these sad times, I shall postpone it for a few years. This
will cost her a new lace--I heard it crack. (_Aside._)
_Enter Sir_ George, _and Lady_ Frances.
_Sir Geo._ Well, here we are.--But where's the Knight of the Woeful
Countenance?
_Mrs. Rack._ Here soon, I hope--for a woeful Night it will be without
him.
_Sir Geo._ Oh, fie! do you condescend to pun?
_Mrs. Rack._ Why not? It requires genius to make a good pun--some men of
bright parts can't reach it. I know a Lawyer who writes them on the back
of his briefs; and says they are of great use--in a dry cause.
_Enter_ Flutter.
_Flut._ Here they come!--Here they come!----Their coach stopped, as mine
drove off.
_Lady Fran._ Then Miss Hardy's fate is at a crisis.--She plays a
hazardous game, and I tremble for her.
_Sav._ (_without_) Come, let me guide you!--This way, my poor Friend!
Why are you so furious?
_Doric._ (_without_) The House of Death--to the House of Death!
_Enter_ Doricourt, _and_ Saville.
Ah! this is the spot!
_Lady Fran._ How wild and fiery he looks!
_Miss Ogle._ Now, I think, he looks terrified.
_Flut._ Poor creature, how his eyes work!
_Mrs. Rack._ I never saw a Madman before--Let me examine him--Will he
bite?
_Sav._ Pray keep out of his reach, Ladies--You don't know your danger.
He's like a Wild Cat, if a sudden thought seises him.
_Sir Geo._ You talk like a Keeper of Wild Cats--How much do you demand
for shewing the Monster?
_Doric._ I don't like this--I must rouse their sensibility. There!
there she darts through the air in liquid flames! Down again! Now I have
her----Oh, she burns, she scorches!--Oh! she eats into my very heart!
_Omnes._ Ha! ha! ha!
_Mrs. Rack._ He sees the Apparition of the wicked Italian Princess.
_Flut._ Keep her Highness fast, Doricourt.
_Miss Ogle._ Give her a pinch, before you let her go.
_Doric._ I am laughed at!
_Mrs. Rack._ Laughed at--aye, to be sure; why, I could play the Madman
better than you.--There! there she is! Now I have her! Ha! ha! ha!
_Doric._ I knew that Devil would discover me. (_Aside_) I'll leave the
house:----I'm covered with confusion. (_Going._)
_Sir Geo._ Stay, Sir--You must not go. 'Twas poorly done, Mr. Doricourt,
to affect madness, rather than fulfil your engagements.
_Doric._ Affect madness!--Saville, what can I do?
_Sav._ Since you are discovered, confess the whole.
_Miss Ogle._ Aye, turn Evidence, and save Yourself.
_Doric._ Yes; since my designs have been so unaccountably discovered, I
will avow the whole. I cannot love Miss Hardy--and I will never----
_Sav._ Hold, my dear Doricourt! be not so rash. What will the world say
to such----
_Doric._ Damn the world! What will the world give me for the loss of
happiness? Must I sacrifice my peace, to please the world?
_Sir Geo._ Yes, every thing, rather than be branded with dishonour.
_Lady Fran._ Though _our_ arguments should fail, there _is_ a Pleader,
whom you surely cannot withstand--the dying Mr. Hardy supplicates you
not to forsake his Child.
_Enter_ Villers.
_Vill._ Mr. Hardy requests you to grant him a moment's conversation,
Mr. Doricourt, though you should persist to send him miserable to the
grave. Let me conduct you to his chamber.
_Doric._ Oh, aye, any where; to the Antipodes--to the Moon--Carry me--Do
with me what you will.
_Mrs. Rack._ Mortification and disappointment, then, are specifics in
a case of stubbornness.--I'll follow, and let you know what passes.
[_Exeunt_ Villers, Doricourt, _Mrs._ Racket, _and Miss_ Ogle.
_Flut._ Ladies, Ladies, have the charity to take me with you, that I may
make no blunder in repeating the story. [_Exit_ Flutter.
_Lady Fran._ Sir George, you don't know Mr. Saville. [_Exit Lady_
Frances.
_Sir Geo._ Ten thousand pardons--but I will not pardon myself, for not
observing you. I have been with the utmost impatience at your door twice
to-day.
_Sav._ I am concerned you had so much trouble, Sir George.
_Sir Geo._ Trouble! what a word!--I hardly know how to address you; I am
distressed beyond measure; and it is the highest proof of my opinion of
your honour, and the delicacy of your mind, that I open my heart to you.
_Sav._ What has disturbed you, Sir George?
_Sir Geo._ Your having preserved Lady Frances, in so imminent a danger.
Start not, Saville; to protect Lady Frances, was my right. You have
wrested from me my dearest privilege.
_Sav._ I hardly know how to answer such a reproach. I cannot apologize
for what I have done.
_Sir Geo._ I do not mean to reproach you; I hardly know what I mean.
There is one method by which you may restore peace to me; I cannot
endure that my Wife should be so infinitely indebted to any man who is
less than my Brother.
_Sav._ Pray explain yourself.
_Sir Geo._ I have a Sister, Saville, who is amiable; and you are worthy
of her. I shail give her a commission to steal your heart, out of
revenge for what you have done.
_Sav._ I am infinitely honoured, Sir George; but----
_Sir Geo._ I cannot listen to a sentence which begins with so
unpromising a word. You must go with us into Hampshire; and, if you see
each other with the eyes I do, your felicity will be complete. I know no
one, to whose heart I would so readily commit the care of my Sister's
happiness.
_Sav._ I will attend you to Hampshire, with pleasure; but not on the
plan of retirement. Society has claims on Lady Frances, that forbid it.
_Sir Geo._ Claims, Saville!
_Sav._ Yes, claims; Lady Frances was born to be the ornament of Courts.
She is sufficiently alarmed, not to wander beyond the reach of her
Protector;--and, from the British Court, the most tenderly-anxious
Husband could not wish to banish his Wife. Bid her keep in her eye the
bright Example who presides there; the splendour of whose rank yields to
the superior lustre of her Virtue.
_Sir Geo._ I allow the force of your argument. Now for intelligence!
_Enter Mrs._ Racket, _Lady_ Frances, _and_ Flutter.
_Mrs. Rack._ Oh! Heav'ns! do you know----
_Flut._ Let me tell the story----As soon as Doricourt--
_Mrs. Rack._ I protest you sha'n't--said Mr. Hardy----
_Flut._ No, 'twas Doricourt spoke first--says he--No, 'twas the
Parson--says he----
_Mrs. Rack._ Stop his mouth, Sir George--he'll spoil the tale.
_Sir Geo._ Never heed circumstances--the result--the result.
_Mrs. Rack._ No, no; you shall have it in form.--Mr. Hardy performed
the Sick Man like an Angel--He sat up in his bed, and talked so
pathetically, that the tears stood in Doricourt's eyes.
_Flut._ Aye, stood--they did not drop, but stood.--I shall, in future,
be very exact. The Parson seized the moment; you know, they never miss
an opportunity.
_Mrs. Rack._ Make haste, said Doricourt; if I have time to reflect, poor
Hardy will die unhappy.
_Flut._ They were got as far as the Day of Judgement, when we slipt out
of the room.
_Sir Geo._ Then, by this time, they must have reached _Amazement_,
which, every body knows, is the end of Matrimony.
_Mrs. Rack._ Aye, the Reverend Fathers ended the service with that word,
Prophetically----to teach the Bride what a capricious Monster a Husband
is.
_Sir Geo._ I rather think it was Sarcastically--to prepare the
Bridegroom for the unreasonable humours and vagaries of his Help-mate.
_Lady Fran._ Here comes the Bridegroom of to-night.
_Enter_ Doricourt _and_ Villers.--Villers _whispers_ Saville,
_who goes out_.
_Omnes._ Joy! joy! joy!
_Miss Ogle._ If _he_'s a sample of Bridegrooms, keep me single!--A
younger Brother, from the Funeral of his Father, could not carry a more
fretful countenance.
_Flut._ Oh!--Now, he's melancholy mad, I suppose.
_Lady Fran._ You do not consider the importance of the occasion.
_Vill._ No; nor how shocking a thing it is for a Man to be forced to
marry one Woman, whilst his heart is devoted to another.
_Mrs. Rack._ Well, now 'tis over, I confess to you, Mr. Doricourt, I
think 'twas a most ridiculous piece of Quixotism, to give up the
happiness of a whole life to a Man who perhaps has but a few moments to
be sensible of the sacrifice.
_Flut._ So it appeared to me.--But, thought I, Mr. Doricourt has
travelled--he knows best.
_Doric._ Zounds! Confusion!--Did ye not all set upon me?--Didn't ye talk
to me of Honour--Compassion--Justice?
_Sir Geo._ Very true--You have acted according to their dictates, and I
hope the utmost felicity of the Married State will reward you.
_Doric._ Never, Sir George! To Felicity I bid adieu--but I will
endeavour to be content. Where is my--I must speak it--where is my
_Wife_?
_Enter_ Letitia, _masked, led by_ Saville.
_Sav._ Mr. Doricourt, this Lady was pressing to be introduced to you.
_Dor._ Oh! (_Starting_).
_Let._ I told you last night, you shou'd see me at a time when you least
expected me--and I have kept my promise.
_Vill._ Whoever you are, Madam, you could not have arrived at a happier
moment.--Mr. Doricourt is just married.
_Let._ Married! Impossible! 'Tis but a few hours since he swore to me
eternal Love: I believ'd him, gave him up my Virgin heart--and
now!--Ungrateful Sex!
_Dor._ Your Virgin heart! No, Lady----my fate, thank Heaven! yet wants
that torture. Nothing but the conviction that you was another's, could
have made me think one moment of Marriage, to have saved the lives of
half Mankind. But this visit, Madam, is as barbarous as unexpected. It
is now my duty to forget you, which, spite of your situation, I found
difficult enough.
_Let._ My situation!--What situation?
_Dor._ I must apologise for explaining it in this company--but, Madam, I
am not ignorant, that you are the companion of Lord George Jennet--and
this is the only circumstance that can give me peace.
_Let._ I--a Companion! Ridiculous pretence! No, Sir, know, to your
confusion, that my heart, my honour, my name is unspotted as her's you
have married; my birth equal to your own, my fortune large--That, and my
person, might have been your's.--But, Sir, farewell! (_Going._)
_Dor._ Oh, stay a moment----Rascal! is she not----
_Flut._ Who, she? O Lard! no--'Twas quite a different person that I
meant.--I never saw that Lady before.
_Dor._ Then, never shalt thou see her more. [_Shakes_ Flutter.]
_Mrs. Rack._ Have mercy upon the poor Man!--Heavens! He'll murder him.
_Dor._ Murder him! Yes, you, myself, and all Mankind. Sir
George--Saville--Villers--'twas you who push'd me on this
precipice;--'tis you who have snatch'd from me joy, felicity, and life.
_Mrs. Rack._ There! Now, how well he acts the Madman!--This is something
like! I knew he would do it well enough, when the time came.
_Dor._ Hard-hearted Woman! enjoy my ruin--riot in my wretchedness.
[Hardy _bursts in_.]
_Har._ This is too much. You are now the Husband of my Daughter; and how
dare you shew all this passion about another Woman?
_Dor._ Alive again!
_Har._ Alive! aye, and merry. Here, wipe off the flour from my face. I
was never in better health and spirits in my life.--I foresaw t'would
do--. Why, my illness was only a fetch, Man! to make you marry Letty.
_Dor._ It was! Base and ungenerous! Well, Sir, you shall be gratified.
The possession of my heart was no object either with You, or your
Daughter. My fortune and name was all you desired, and these--I leave
ye. My native England I shall quit, nor ever behold you more. But, Lady,
that in my exile I may have one consolation, grant me the favour you
denied last night;--let me behold all that mask conceals, that your
whole image may be impress'd on my heart, and chear my distant solitary
hours.
_Let._ This is the most awful moment of my life. Oh, Doricourt, the
slight action of taking off my Mask, stamps me the most blest or
miserable of Women!
_Dor._ What can this mean? Reveal your face, I conjure you.
_Let._ Behold it.
_Dor._ Rapture! Transport! Heaven!
_Flut._ Now for a touch of the happy Madman.
_Vill._ This scheme was mine.
_Let._ I will not allow that. This little stratagem arose from my
disappointment, in not having made the impression on you I wish'd. The
timidity of the English character threw a veil over me, you could not
penetrate. You have forced me to emerge in some measure from my natural
reserve, and to throw off the veil that hid me.
_Dor._ I am yet in a state of intoxication--I cannot answer you.--Speak
on, sweet Angel!
_Let._ You see I _can_ be any thing; chuse then my character--your Taste
shall fix it. Shall I be an _English_ Wife?--or, breaking from the bonds
of Nature and Education, step forth to the world in all the captivating
glare of Foreign Manners?
_Dor._ You shall be nothing but yourself--nothing can be captivating
that you are not. I will not wrong your penetration, by pretending that
you won my heart at the first interview; but you have now my whole
soul--your person, your face, your mind, I would not exchange for those
of any other Woman breathing.
_Har._ A Dog! how well he makes up for past slights! Cousin Racket, I
wish you a good Husband with all my heart. Mr. Flutter, I'll believe
every word you say this fortnight. Mr. Villers, you and I have manag'd
this to a T. I never was so merry in my life--'Gad, I believe I can
dance. (_Footing._)
_Doric._ Charming, charming creature!
_Let._ Congratulate me, my dear friends! Can you conceive my happiness?
_Har._ No, congratulate me; for mine is the greatest.
_Flut._ No, congratulate me, that I have escaped with life, and give me
some sticking plaster--this wild cat has torn the skin from my throat.
_Sir Geo._ I expect to be among the first who are congratulated--for I
have recovered one Angel, while Doricourt has gained another.
_Har._ Pho! pho! Don't talk of Angels, we shall be happier by half as
Mortals. Come into the next room; I have order'd out every drop of my
Forty-eight, and I'll invite the whole parish of St. George's, but what
we'll drink it out--except one dozen, which I shall keep under three
double locks, for a certain Christening, that I foresee will happen
within this twelvemonth.
_Dor._ My charming Bride! It was a strange perversion of Taste, that led
me to consider the delicate timidity of your deportment, as the mark of
an uninform'd mind, or inelegant manners. I feel now it is to that
innate modesty, _English_ Husbands owe a felicity the Married Men of
other nations are strangers to: it is a sacred veil to your own charms;
it is the surest bulwark to your Husband's honour; and cursed be the
hour--should it ever arrive--in which _British_ Ladies shall sacrifice
to _foreign Graces_ the Grace of Modesty!
_FINIS._
EPILOGUE.
_Nay, cease, and hear me--I am come to scold--_
_Whence this night's plaudits, to a thought so old?_
_To gain a Lover, hid behind a Mask!_
_What's new in that? or where's the mighty task?_
_For instance, now--What Lady Bab, or Grace,_
_E'er won a Lover--in her_ natural _Face_?
_Mistake me not--French red, or blanching creams,_
_I stoop not to--for those are hackney'd themes;_
_The arts I mean, are harder to detect,_
_Easier put on, and worn to more effect;--_
_As thus----_
_Do Pride and Envy, with their horrid lines,_
_Destroy th' effect of Nature's sweet designs?_
_The Mask of Softness is at once applied,_
_And gentlest manners ornament the Bride._
_Do thoughts too free inform the Vestal's eye,_
_Or point the glance, or warm the struggling sigh?_
_Not Dian's brows more rigid looks disclose;_
_And Virtue's blush appears, where Passion glows._
_And you, my gentle Sirs, wear Vizors too;_ }
_But here I'll strip you, and expose to view_ }
_Your hidden features----First I point at you._ }
_That well-stuff'd waistcoat, and that ruddy cheek;_
_That ample forehead, and that skin so sleek,_
_Point out good-nature, and a gen'rous heart----_
_Tyrant! stand forth, and, conscious, own thy part:_
_Thy Wife, thy Children, tremble in thy eye;_
_And Peace is banish'd--when the_ Father's _nigh_.
_Sure 'tis enchantment! See, from ev'ry side_
_The Masks fall off!--In charity I hide_
_The monstrous features rushing to my view----_
_Fear not, there, Grand-Papa--nor you--nor you:_
_For should I shew your features to each other,_
_Not one amongst ye'd know his Friend, or Brother._
_'Tis plain, then, all the world, from Youth to Age,_
_Appear in Masks--Here, only, on the Stage,_
_You see us as we are:_ Here _trust your eyes;_
_Our wish to please, admits of no disguise._
_Of the Publisher may be had_,
_By the same_ AUTHOR,
THE RUNAWAY, a Comedy.
ALBINA, a Tragedy.
WHO'S THE DUPE? a Farce.
THE MAID OF ARRAGON, a Poem, Part I.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Hyphenation in inconsistent throughout; missing punctuation and
occasional missing spaces have been added. The errata have been
incorporated. The spelling of character names has been harmonised.
Overall, contemporary spellings have been retained; however, a small
number of words have been modernised to prevent misunderstanding. One
instance of "genus" was left unchanged, since it may well serve a
purpose in furthering the characterisation. A section of publisher's
advertising at the end was illegible and has been omitted. One instance
of double typesetting (same word at end of one line and the beginning
of the next) was corrected.
Although there is occasional reference in the stage directions to "(the)
Miss Ogles" it is clear from the context that the name is "Ogle" and
only one character of that name is present, so the name was changed
accordingly.
At the end of the scene at Sir George's in Act 2, Mrs Racket exits twice
in short order; this reflects the original. Three substantive changes
were made:
In Act 2, "your" was changed to "you" in Harcourt's speech:
_Har._ I foresee this won't do!--Mr. Doricourt, may be you
take my Daughter for a Fool; but *you* are mistaken: she's a
sensible Girl, as any in England.
In Act 4, "On" was replaced by "Oh" at the beginning of Flutter's
speech:
_Flut._ Oh, every creature.--A Mask is nothing at all to
me.--I can give you the history of half the people here.
In Act 5, scene 3, Is is was changed to Is it in Lady Frances
Touchwood's question:
Is it true that Doricourt is mad?