ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

PROLOGUE.-Written by Mr. Garrick.

A SCHOOL for Scandal! tell me, I beseech you,
Needs there a school this modish art to teach you!
No need of lessons now, the knowing think;
We might as well be taught to eat and drink.
Caused by a dearth of scandal, should the vapours
Distress our fair ones-let them read the papers;
Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit;
Crave what you will-there's quantum sufficit.
'Lord!' cries my lady Wormwood (who loves tattle,
And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle),

Just ris'n at noon, all night at cards when threshing
Strong tea and scandal-' Bless me, how refreshing!
Give me the papers, Lisp- how bold and free! (sips)
Last night Lord L. (sips) was caught with Lady D.
For aching heads what charming sal volatile! (sips)
If Mrs. B. will still continue flirting,

We hope she'll DRAW, or we'll UNDRAW the curtain.
Fine satire, poz-in public all abuse it,

But, by ourselves, (sips) our praise we can't refuse it. Now, Lisp, read you there, at that dash and star:' 'Yes, ma'am-A certain lord had best beware,

'ho lives not twenty miles from Grosvenor Square; For should he Lady W. find willing,

Wormwood is bitter'- 'Oh! that's me, the villain!
Throw it behind the fire, and never more

Let that vile paper come within my door.'
Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart;
To reach our feelings, we ourselves must smart.
Is our young bard so young, to think that he
Can stop the full spring-tide of calumny?
Knows he the world so little, and its trade?
Alas! the devil's sooner raised than laid.

So strong, so swift, the monster there's no gagging:
Cut Scandal's head off, still the tongue is wagging.
Proud of your smiles once lavishly bestow'd,
Again our young Don Quixote takes the road,
To shew his gratitude he draws his pen,
And seeks this hydra, Scandal, in his den.
For your applause all perils he would through-
He'll fight-that's write-a cavaliero true,

Till every drop of blood-that's ink-is spilt for you.

THE

SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Lady Sneerwell's House.

Discovered LADY SNEERWELL, at the dressing-table. SNAKE drinking chocolate.

Lady S. THE paragraphs, you say, Mr. Snake, were alle inserted?

Snake. They were, madam: and as I copied them myself in a feigned hand, there can be no suspicion whence they came.

Lady S. Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle's intrigue with Captain Boastall?

Snake. That's in as fine a train as your ladyship could wish. In the common course of things, I think it must reach Mrs. Clackitt's ears within fouran-twenty hours; and then, you know, the business is as good as done.

Lady S. Why, truly, Mrs. Clackitt has a very pretty talent, and a great deal of industry.

and

Snake. True, madam, and has been tolerably successful in her day. To my knowledge, she has been the cause of six matches being broken off, three sons being disinherited; of four forced elopements, as many close confinements, nine separate maintenances, and two divorces. Nay, I have more than once traced her causing a tête-à-tête in the Town and Country Magazine, when the parties, perhaps, had never seen each other's face before in the course of their lives.

Lady S. She certainly has talents, but her manner is gross.

Snake. 'Tis very true.-She generally designs well,

has a free tongue and a bold invention; but her colouring is too dark, and het outlines often extravagant. She wants that delicacy of tint and mellowness of sneer, which distinguish your ladyship's

scandal.

Lady S. Ah! you are partial, Snake.

Snake. Not in the least- every body allows that Lady Sneerwell can do more with a word or a look than many can do with the most laboured detail, even when they happen to have a little truth on their side to support it.

Lady S. Yes, my dear Snake; and I am no hypocrite to deny the satisfaction I reap from the success of my efforts. [They rise.] Wounded myself in the early part of my life by the envenomed tongue of slander, I confess I have since known no pleasure equal to the reducing others to the level of my own reputation.

Snake. Nothing can be more natural. But, Lady Sneer well, there is one affair in which you have lately employed me, wherein, I confess, I am at a loss to guess your motives.

Lady S. I conceive you mean with respect to my neighbour, Sir Peter Teazle, and his family?

Snake. I do. Here are two young men, to whom Sir Peter has acted as a kind of guardian since their father's death; the eldest possessing the most amiable character, and universally well spoken of-the youngest, the most dissipated and extravagant young fellow in the kingdom, without friends or character: the former, an avowed admirer of your ladyship's, and apparently your favorite: the latter attached to Maria, Sir Peter's ward, and confessedly beloved by her. Now, on the face of these circumstances, it is utterly unaccountable to me, why you, the widow of a city knight, with a good jointure, should not close with the passion of a man of such character and expectations as Mr. Surface; and more so, why you should be so uncommonly earnest to destroy the mutual attachment subsisting between his brother Charles and Maria.

Lady S. Then at once to unravel this mystery, I must inform you, that love has no share whatever in the intercourse between Mr. Surface and me.

Snake. No!

Lady S. His real attachment is to Maria, or her fortune, but finding in his brother a favoured rival, he has been obliged to mask his pretensions, and profit by my assistance.

Snake. Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself in his success.

Lady S. Heavens! how dull you are! Cannot you surmise the weakness which I hitherto, through shame, have concealed even from you? Must I confess, that Charles, that libertine, that extravagant, that bank · rupt in fortune and reputation, that he it is for whom I'm thus anxious and malicious, and to gain whom I would sacrifice every thing?

Snake. Now, indeed, your conduct appears consistent; but how came you and Mr. Surface so confidential? Lady S. For our mutual interest. I have found him out a long time since. I know him to be artful, selfish, and malicious-in short, a sentimental knave; while, with Sir Peter, and indeed with all his acquaintance, he passes for a youthful miracle of prudence, good sense, and benevolence.

Snake. Yes: yet Sir Peter vows he has not his equal in England and above all, he praises him as a man of sentiment.

Lady S. True-and with the assistance of his sentiment and hypocrisy, he has brought him entirely into his interest with regard to Maria; while poor Charles has no friend in the house, though, I fear, he has a powerful one in Maria's heart, against whom we must direct our schemes.

Enter SERVant.

Serv. Mr. Surface.

Lady S. Shew him up. [Exit Servant.] He generally calls about this time. I don't wonder at people giving him to me for a lover.

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »