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known you to be a gentleman, upon my soul, I Faulk. Prithee, be serious.
front, which I am sure I never intended, has obSir Luc. I humbly thank you, sir, for the quick-liged ine to meet him this evening at six o'clock; ness of your apprehension ! [Bowing.) You have 'tis on that account I wished to see you; you named the very thing I would be at.
must go with me. Abs. Very well, sir; I shall certainly not baulk Faulk. Nay, there must be some mistake, sure. your inclinations : but I should be glad you Sir Lucius shall explain himself; and, I dare say, would please to explain your motives?
matters may be accommodated : but this evening, Sir Luc. Pray, sir, be easy--the quarrel is a did you say? I wish it had been any other time. very pretty quarrel as it stands—we should only Abs. Why? there will be light enough: there spoil it, by trying to explain it. However, your will, as sir Lucius says, be very pretty smallmemory is very short, or you could not have for sword light, though it will not do for a long shot. got an affront you passed on me within this Confound his long shots ! week. So, no more, but name your time and Faulk. But I am myself a good deal ruifled, place.
by a difference I have had with Julia—my vile Abs. Well, sir, since you are so bent on it, the tormenting temper has made me treat her so sooner the better--let it be this evening-here by cruelly, that I shall not be myself till we are retie Spring Gardens. We shall scarcely be in conciled. terrupted.
Abs. By Heavens, Faulkland, you don't deSir Luc. Faith! that same interruption in af
serve her! fairs of this nature shews very great ill-breeding. I don't know what's the reason; but in England,
Enter Servant-gives FAULKLAND a letter. if a thing of this kind gets wind, people make Faulk. O Jack! this is from Julia-1 dread to such a pother, that a gentleman can never fight open it-I fear it may be to take a last leavein peace and quietness. However, if its the perhaps to bid me return her letters—and resame to you, captain, I should takç it as a par- store -O! how I suffer for my folly! ticular kindness, if you'd let us meet in King's Abs. Here-let me see. Mead Fields, as a little business will call me
[Takes the letter and opens it. there about six o'clock, and I may dispatch both | Ay, a final sentence indeed! 'tis all over with
Abs. 'Tis the same to me exactly. A little af Fuulk. Nay, Jack, don't keep me in suspense. ter six, then, we'll discuss this matter more se Abs. Hear then—"As I am convinced that iny riously.
• dear Faulkland's own reflections have already Sir Luc. If you please, sir; there will be very upbraided him for his last unkindness to me, í pretty small-sword light, though it won't do for will not add a word on the subject. I wish to a long shot. So that matter's settled, and my
you as soon as possible. Your's ever mind's at ease.
[Erit Sir Lucius. and truly, Julia.'— There's stubbornness and re
sentment for you! [Gives him the letter. Enter FAULKLAND, meeting ABSOLUTE.
Why, man, you don't seem one whit the happier Abs. Well met! I was going to look for you.
at this! 0, Faulkland ! all the demons of spite and dis Faulk. O, yes, I am-but-butappointment have conspired against me! I'm so Abs. Confound your buts! You never hear vexed, that if I had not the prospect of a re any thing that would make another man bless source in being knocked o' the head by and by, I himself, but you immediately damn it with a should scarce have spirits to tell you the cause. but !
Faulk. What can you mean? Has Lydia Faulk. Now, Jack, as you are my friend, own changed her mind? I should have thought her bonestly, don't you think there is something forduty and inclination would now have pointed to ward, something indelicate, in this haste to forthe same object.
give! Women should never sue for reconciliaAbs. Aye, just as the eyes do of a person who tion; that should always come from us. They squints: when her love-eye was fixed on me, should retain their coldness till wooed to kindt'other, her eye of duty, was finely obliqued : but ness; and their pardon, like their love, should when duty bid her point that the same way, off not unsought be won.' t'other turned on a swivel, and secured its re Abs. I have not patience to listen to you: treat with a frown!
thou’rt incorrigible! so, say no more on the subject, Faulk. But what's the resource you
I must go to settle a few matters- let me see you Abs. 0, to wind up the whole, a good-natured before six-remember-at my lodgings. A poor, Irishman here has [mimicking Sir Lucius.] beg- | industrious devil like me, who have toiled, and ged leave to have the pleasure of cutting my drudged, and plotted to gain my ends, and am at throat, and I mcan to indulge him, that's all. last disappointed by other people's folly, may, in
matters at once.
pity, be allowed to swear and grumble a little ; an idea in my head, which I will instantly purbut a captious sceptic in love, a slave to fretful- sue. I'll use it as the touchstone of Julia's sinness and whim, who has no difficulties but of his cerity and disinterestedness—if her love prove own creating, is a subject more fit for ridicule pure and sterling ore, my name will rest on it than compassion!
[Exit. with honour ! and once I have stamped it there, Faulk. I feel his reproaches : yet I would not I lay aside my doubts for ever : but if the dross change this too exquisite nicety, for the gross of selfishness, the allay of pride, predominate, content with which he tramples on the thorns of 'twill be best to leave her as toy for some less love. His engaging me in this duel has started | cautious fool to sigh for.
SCENE I.-JULIN's dressing-room. more than ever, prize the solemn engagement
which so long has pledged us to each other, it is Julia alone.
because it leaves no room for hard aspersions on Julia. How this message has alarmed me! my fame, and puts the scal of duty to an act of what dreadful accident can he mean? why such love. But let us not linger. Perhaps this decharges, to be alone?- Faulkland! how many layunhappy moments, how many tears, have you Faulk. 'Twill be better I should not venture cost me!
out again till dark. Yet am I grieved to think Enter FAULKLAND.
what numberless distresses will press heavy on
your gentle disposition ! What means this ? why this caution, Faulk Julia. Perhaps your fortune may be forfeited land?
by this unhappy act? I know not whether 'tis so, Faulk. Alas! Julia, I come to take a long but sure that alone can never make us unhappy. farewel.
The little I have will be sufficient to support us; Julia. Heavens! what do you mean?
and exile never should be splendid. Faulk. You see before you a wretch, whose Faulk. Ay, but in such an abject state of life, life is forfeited. Nay, start not! the infirmity my wounded pride, perhaps, may increasc the naof my temper has drawn all this misery on me. tural fretfulness of my temper, till I become a I left you fretful and passionate-an untoward rude, morose companion, beyond your patience accident drew me into a quarrel; the event is, to endure. Perhaps the recollection of a deed, that I must fly this kingdom instantly. O Julia! my conscience cannot justify, may haunt me in had I been so fortunate as to have called you such gloomy and unsocial fits, that I shall hate mine entirely, before this mischance had fallen the tenderness that would relieve me, break from on me, I should not so deeply dread my banish- your arms, and quarrel with your fondness ! ment!
Julia. If your thoughts should assume so unJulia. My soul is oppressed with sorrow at the bappy a bent, you will the more want some mild nature of your misfortune : had these adverse and affectionate spirit to watch over and console circumstances arisen from a less fatal cause, Iyou: one who, by bearing your infirmities with should have felt strong comfort in the thought gentleness and resignation, may teach you so to that I could now chase from your bosom every bear the evils of your fortune. doubt of the warm sincerity of my love. My Faulk. Julia, I have proved you to the quick ! heart has long known no other guardian-I now and with this useless device I throw
away all my intrust my person to your honour-we will fly doubts. How shall I plead to be forgiven this together. When safe from pursuit, my father's last unworthy effect of my restless, unsatisfied will may be fulfilled, and I receive a legal claim disposition? to be the partner of your sorrows, and tenderest Julia. Has no such disaster happened, as you comforter. Then, on the bosom of your wedded related ? Julia, you may lull your keen regret to slumber Faulk. I am ashamed to own, that it was preing; while virtuous love, with a cherub's band, tended; yet, in pity, Julia, do not kill me with shall smooth the brow of upbraiding thought, and resenting a fault which never can be repeated : pluck the thorn from compunction.
but sealing, this once, my pardon, let me to-morFaulk. ( Julia ! I am bankrupt in gratitude ! row, in the face of Heaven, receive my future but the time is so pressing, it calls on you for so guide and monitress, and expiate my past folly. hasty a resolution! Would you not wish some by vears of tender adoration. hours to weigh the advantages you forego, and Julia. Hold, Faulkland !-that you are frec what little compensation poor Faulkland can from a crime, which I before feared to name, make you, beside his solitary love?
Heaven knows how sincerely I rejoice! These Julia. I ask not a moment. No, Faulkland, are tears of thankfulness for that! But that your I have loved you for yourself: and if I now, cruel doubts should have urged you to an impo
sition that has wrung my heart, gives me now a pang more keen than I can express !
Enter Maid and Lydia. Faulk. By Heavens! Julia-
Maid. My mistress, madam, I know, was bere Julia. Yet hear me. -My father loved you, just now; perhaps she is only in the next room. Faulkland, and you preserved the life that ten
[Erit maid, der parent gave me; in his presence I pledged Lydia. Heigh ho! Though he has used me so, my haud, joyfully pledged it, where before I had this fellow runs strangely in my head. I believe given my heart. When, soon after, I lost that one lecture from my grave cousin will make me parent, it seemed to me that Providence had, in recal him. Faulkland, shewn me whither to transfer, without
Enter JULIA. a pause, my grateful duty, as well as my affection : hence, I have been content to bear from 0, Julia, I am come to you with such an appeyou, what pride and delicacy would have forbid tite for consolation ! Lud! Child, what's the ine from another. I will not upbraid you, by matter with you? You have been crying! I'll be repeating how you have trifled with my since hanged, if that Faulkland has not been tormentrity
ing you ! Faulk. I confess it all! yet hear
Julia. You mistake the cause of my uneasiness! Julia. After such a year of trial, I might have something has Aurried me a little. Nothing that flattered myself that I should not have been in- you can guess at. I would not accuse Faulkland sulted with a new probation of my sincerity, as to a sister!
(Aside. cruel as unnecessary! I now see it is not in your Lydia. Ah! Whatever vexations you may nature to be content, or confident in love. With have, I can assure you mine surpass tbem. You this conviction, I never will be yours. While I know who Beverley proves to be? had hopes, that my persevering attention, and un Julia. I will now own to you, Lydia, that Mr reproaching kindness, might, in time, reform your Faulkland had before informed me of the whole temper, I should have been happy to have gained affair. Had young Absolute been the person you a dearer influence over you; but I will not fur- took him for, I should not have accepted your nish you with a licensed power to keep alive an confidence on the subject, without a serious enincorrigible fault, at the expence of one who ne deavour to counteract your caprice. ver would contend with you.
Lydia. So, then, I see I have been deceived Faulk. Nay, but, Julia, by my soul and ho- by every one! But I don't care; I'll never have nour, if, after this
him. Julia. But one word more. As my faith has
Julia. Nay, Lydiaonce been given to you, I never will barter it Lydia. Why, is it not provoking ? When I with another. I shall pray for your happiness thought we were coming to the prettiest distress with the truest sincerity; and the dearest blessing imaginable, to find myself made a mere SmithI can ask of Heaven to send you, will be, to field bargain of at last! There, had I projected charm you from that unbappy temper, which one of the most sentimental elopements! So bealone has prevented the perforinance of our so- coming a disguise ! So amiable a ladder of ropes! lemn engagement. All I request of you is, that Conscious moon--four horses---Scotch parsonyou will yourself reflect upon this infirmity; and with such surprise to Mrs Malaprop---and such when you number up the many true delights it paragraphs in the newspapers !'0, I shall die has deprived you of, let it not be your least re with disappointment! gret, that it lost you the love of one-who would Julia. I don't wonder at it! have followed you in beggary through the world. Ludia. Now—sad reverse! What have I to
[Erit. expect, but, after a deal of Aimsy preparation Faulk. She's gone for ever! There was an with a bishop's licence, and my aunt's blessing, awful resolution in her manner, that rivetted me to go simpering up to the altar; or, perhaps, be to my place. O fool! dolt! barbarian! Curst cried three times in a country church, and have as I am, with more imperfections than my fel- an unmannerly fat clerk ask the consent of every low-wretches, kind fortune sent a heaven-gifted butcher in the parish to join John Absolute and cherub to my aid, and, like a rutfan, I have dri-Lydia Languish, spinster! (, that I should live ven her from my side! I must now haste to my to hear myself called spinster ! appointinent. Well! my mind is tuned for such Julia. Melancholy, indeed !
I shall wish only to become a principal Lydia. How mortifying, to remember the dear in it, and reverse the tale my cursed folly put me delicious shifts I used to be put to, to gain half a upon forging here. O Love! tormentor ! fiend! minute's conversation with this fellow? How ofWhose influence, like the moon's, acting on men ten have I stole forth, in the coldest night in Jaof dull souls, makes idiots of them; but, meeting nuary, and found him in the garden, stuck like a subtler spirits, betrays their course, and urges dripping statue ! There would be kneel to me in sensibility to madness!
the snow, and sneeze and cough so pathetically! [Exit Faulk. He shivering with cold, and I with apprehension !
And, while the freezing blast numbed our joints, David. Look'ee, my ladyby the mass, how warmiy would he press me to pity bis Hame, there's mischief going on! Folks don't use to and glow with mutual ardour! Ah, Julia, that meet for amusement with fire-arms, fire-locks, was something like being in love!
fire-engines, fire-screens, fire-office, and the devil Julia. If I were in spirits, Lydia, I should chide knows what other crackers beside! This, my layou only by laughing heartily at you; but it suits dy, I say, has an angry favour. more the situation of my mind, at present, ear Julia. But who is there beside captain Absonestly to entreat you, not to let man, who lute, friend ? loves you with sincerity, suffer that unhappiness David. My poor master-under favour for from your caprice, which I know too well caprice mentioning hin first. You know me, my ladycan inflict.
I am David--and my master of course is, or was, Lydiu. O lud! What has brought my aunt | 'squire Acres. Then comes 'squire Faulkland. here?
Julia. Do, madam; let us instantly endeavour Enter Mrs MalaPROP, Fag, and DAVID.
to prevent mischief!
Mrs Mal. O fie! it would be very inelegant Mrs Mal. So, so! here's fine work! Here's in us: we should only participate things. fine suicide, parricide, and simulation going on in David. Ah! Do, Mrs Aunt, save a few lives; the fields! And sir Anthony not to be found to they are desperately given, believe me. Above prevent the antistrophe !
all, there is that blood-thirsty Philistine, sir LuJulia. For Heaven's sake, madam, what's the cius (Trigger. meaning of this?
Mrs Mal. Sir Lucius O'Trigger! O mercy! Mrs Mal. That gentleman can tell you: 'twas Have they drawn poor little dear sir Lucius into he enveloped the affair.
the scrape? Why, how you stand, girl! You have Lydia. Do, sir; will you inform us?
no more feeling than one of the Derbyshire pu
[To Fac. trifactions ! Fag. Madam, I should hold myself very defi Lydia. What are we to do, madam? cient in every requisite that forms the man of Mrs Mal. Why, fly with the utmost felicity, to breeding, if I delayed a moment to give all the be sure, to prevent mischief! Here, friend---you information in my power to a lady so deeply in- can shew us the place ? terested in the affair as you are.
Fag. If you please, madam, I will conduct Lydia. But quick! Quick, sir !
you. David, do you look for sir Anthony. Fag. True, madam, as you say, one should be
[Erit David. quick in divulging matters of this nature; for Mrs Mal. Come, girls; this gentleman will shonld we be tedious, perhaps, while we are flou- exhort us. Come, sir, you're our envoy; lead rishing on the subject, two or three lives may be the way, and we'll precede. lost!
Fag: Not a step before the ladies, for the Lydia. () patience! Do, madam, for Heaven's world! sake, tell us wbat's the matter?
Mrs Mal. You're sure you know the spot? Mrs Mal. Why, murder's the matter! Slaugh Fag. I think I can find it, madam; and one ter's the matter ! Killing's the matter! But he good thing is, we shall hear the report of the piscan tell you the perpendiculars.
tols, as we draw near, so we can't well miss them; Lydia. Then, prithee, sir, be brief.
never fcar, madam, never fear. Fug Why, then, madam, as to murder, I can
[Erit, he talking. not take upon me to say; and as to slaughter, or manslaughter, that will be as the jury finds it.
SCENE II.- South Parade. Lydia. But who, sir—who are engaged in this?
Enter ABSOLUTE, putting his sword under his Fag. Faith, madam, one is a young gentleman
great coat. whom I should be very sorry any thing was to
Abs. A sword seen in the streets of Bath would happen to—a very pretty-behaved gentleman ! raise as great an alarm as a mad dog. How proWe have lived much together, and always on voking this is in Faulkland ! Never punctual! I
shall be obliged to go without him at last. O, the Lydia. But who is this? Who, who, who ! devil! Here's sir Anthony! How shall I escape Fag. My master, madam-my master-I speak him! of my master.
[Muffles up his face, and takes a circle to go Lydia. Heavens! What, captain Absolute? off
Mrs Mal. O, to be sure, you are frightened now!
Enter SIR ANTHONY. Julia. But who are with him, sir?
Sir Anth. How one may be deceived at a little Fug. As to the rest, madam, this gentleman | distance ! Only that I see he don't know me, I can inform you better than I.
could have sworn that was Jack! Hey! Gad's Julia. Do speak, friend, [To David. life! It is. Why, Jack, what are you afraid of? Vol. II.
Hley ! Sare I'm right. Why, Jack-Jack Abso- | refuses to forgive me, to sheath this sword—and lute!
[Goes up to him. swear, I'll fall upon its point, and expire at her Abs. Really, sir, you have the advantage of feet ! me: I don't remember ever to have had the ho Sir Anth. Fall upon a fiddle-stick's end! Why, nour---my name is Saunderson, at your service. I
suppose it is the very thing that would please
Abs. Well, sir, you shall hear of my success-
says she-Get along! and damn your trinkets! Abs. 0! A joke, sir, a joke! I came here on
[Erit ABSOLUTE. purpose to look for you, sir. Sir Anth. You did ! Well, I am glad you were
Enter David, running. so lucky; but what are you muffled up so for ? David. Stop him! Stop him! Murder ! Thief! What's this for? Hey?
Fire! Stop fire! stop fire !—0, sir Anthony !Abs. 'Tis cool, sir; isn't it? Rather chilly, call, call ! Bid hiin stop! Murder ! Fire ! somehow : but I shall be late---I have a particu Sir Anth. Fire ! Murder! where? lar engagement,
David. Oons! he's out of sight! and I'm out Sir Anth. Stay. Why, I thought you were of breath, for my part! O, sir Anthony, why looking for me? Pray, Jack, where is't you are didn't you stop him why didn't you stop him?
Sir Anth. Zounds! the fellow's mad! Stop Abs. Going, sir !
whom? stop Jack? Sir Anth. Ay; where are you going?
David. Ay, the captain, sir!-there's murder Abs. Where am I going?
and slaughter! Sir Anth. You unmannerly puppy!
Sir Anth. Murder! Abs. I was going, sir, to-to-to-to Lydia David. Ay, please you, sir Anthony, there's sir, to Lydia—to make matters up, if I could; all kinds of murder, all sorts of slaughter, to be and I was looking for you, sir, to-to
seen in the fields! There's fighting going on, sir Sir Anth. To go with you, I suppose? Well, -bloody sword and gun fighting ! come along.
Sir Anth. Who are going to fight, dunce? Abs. 0, zounds! no, sir, not for the world! I David. Every body that I know of, sir Anwished to meet with you, sir, to-10-10~You thony! every body is going to fight my poor mas find it cool, I'm sure, sir-you'd better not stay ter; sir Lucius O'Trigger, your son, the captain!
Sir Anth. O, the dog! I see his tricks-Do Sir Anth. Cool! not at all. Well, Jack, and you know the place? what will you say to Lydia?
David. King's Mead-fields. Abs. 0, sir, beg her pardon, humour her; pro Sir Anth. You know the way? mise and vow
But I detain
you, sir-consider David. Not an inch; but I'll call the mayor, the cold air on your gout!
aldermen, constables, church-wardens, and beaSir Anth. O, not at all, not at all — I'm in no dles---we can't be too many to part them ! hurry. Ah! Jack, you youngsters, when once Sir Anth. Come along; give me your shoulyou are wounded here! [Putting his hand to der--we'll get assistance as we go-The lying vilABSOLUTE's breast.] Hey! what the deuce have lain! Well
, I shall be in such a frenzy ! So, you got here?
this was the history of his trinkets ! I'll bauble Abs. Nothing, sir, nothing !
(Escunt. Sir Anth. What's this - here's something damned hard !
SCENE III.-- King's Mead-fields.
Sir Lucius and Acres, with pistols. Sir Anth. Nay; let me see your taste. [Pulls Acres. By my valour, then, sir Lucius, forty his coat open, the sword falls.] Trinkets! a bauble yards is a good distance!-Odds levels and aims? for Lydia Zounds, sirrah, you are not going to I say it is a good distance. cut her throat, are you?
Sir Luc. Is it for muskets or small field-pieces? Abs. Ha, ha, ha! I thought it would divert you, Upon my conscience, Mr Acres, you must leare sir, though I did not mean to tell you till after those things to me. Stay now, I'll show you : wards.
[ Measures paces along the stage.] There, now, Sir Anth. You did not ?-Yes, this is a very that is a very pretty distance--a pretty gentlediverting trinket, truly!
man's distance, Abs. Sir, I'll explain to you. You know, sir, Acres. Zounds! we might as well fight in a Lydia is romantic-devilish romantic, and very sentry-box! I tell you, sir Lucius, the farther le absurd, of course :
-now, sir, I intend, if she is off, the cooler I shall take my aim.