Sir Luc. Faith! then I suppose you would aim | at him best of all, if he was out of sight! Acres. No, sir Lucius: but I should think forty, or eight-and-thirty yards Sir Luc. Pho, pho! nonsense! three or four feet between the mouths of your pistols is as good as a mile! Acres. Odds bullets, no! By my valour, there is no merit in killing him so near! do, my dear sir Lucius, let me bring him down at a long shot -a long shot, sir Lucius, if you love me! Sir Luc. Well; the gentleman's friend and I must settle that. But tell me, now, Mr Acres, in case of an accident, is there any little will or commission I could execute for you? Acres. I am much obliged to you, sir Lucius; but I don't understand Sir Luc. Why, you may think there's no being shot at without a little risk; and, if an unlucky bullet should carry a quietus with it-I say, it will be no time then to be bothering you about family matters. Acres. A quietus! Sir Luc. For instance, now-if that should be the case, would you choose to be pickled and sent home? or would it be the same to you to lie here in the abbey?--I'm told there is very suug lying in the abbey. Acres. Pickled!-Snug lying in the Abbey !Odds tremors! sir Lucius, don't talk so! Sir Luc. I suppose, Mr Acres, you never were engaged in an affair of this kind before? Acres. No, sir Lucius, never before. Sir Luc. Ah, that's a pity! there's nothing like being used to a thing.- -Pray, now, how would receive the gentleman's shot? you Acres. Odds files! I've practised that--There, sir Lucius, there [Puts himself in an attitude.] -a side front, hey?- -Odd! I'll make myself small enough-I'll stand edge-ways. Sir Luc. Now, you're quite out; for if you stand so when I take my aim-[Levelling at him.] Acres. Zounds! sir Lucius-are you sure it is not cocked? Sir Luc. Never fear. Acres. But-but-you don't know-it may go off of its own head! Sir Luc. Pho! be easy-Well, now, if I hit you in the body, my bullet has a double chance -for if it misses a vital part of your right side, 'twill be very hard if it don't succeed on the left! Acres. A vital part! Sir Luc. But, there-fix yourself so-[Placing him.] let him see the broad-side of your full front-there-now, a ball or two may pass clean through your body, and never do any harm at all! Acres. Clean through me!-a ball or two clean through me! Sir Luc. Ay may they-and it is much the genteelest attitude into the bargain. Acres. Look'e! sir Lucius-I'd just as lieve be shot in an aukward posture as a genteel one Acres. Hey-what!-coming! Sir Luc. Ay-Who are those yonder getting over the stile? Acres. There are two of them, indeed!well, let them come—hey, sir Lucius?—-wc-we -we-we-won't run. Sir Luc. Run! Acres. No-I say—we won't run, by my valour! Sir Luc. What the devil's the matter with you? Acres. Nothing-nothing-my dear friend— my dear sir Lucius-but I-I-I don't feel quite so bold, somehow-as I did. Sir Luc. O fic! consider your honour. Acres. Ay-true-my honour!-Do, sir Lucius, edge in a word or two, every now and then, about my honour. Sir Luc. Well, here they're coming. [Looking. Acres. Sir Lucius-if I was not with you, I should almost think I was afraid-if my valour should leave me !--Valour will come and go. Sir Luc. Then, pray keep it fast, while you have it. Acres. Sir Lucius, I doubt it is going-yesmy valour is certainly going!--it is sneaking off! I feel it oozing out, as it were, at the palms of my hands! Sir Luc. Your honour--your honour!-Here they are! Acres. O mercy!-now that I was safe at Clod-Hall! or could be shot before I was aware! Enter FAULKLAND and ABSOLUTE. Sir Luc. Gentlemen, your most obedient.Ha! what, captain Absolute !---So, I suppose, sir, you are come here just like myself to do a kind office, first for your friend, then to proceed to business on your own account? Acres. What, Jack!--my dear Jack !---my dear friend! Abs. Heark'e, Bob, Beverley's at hand. Sir Luc. Well, Mr Acres, I don't blame your saluting the gentleman civilly.--So, Mr Beverley, [To FAULKLAND.] if you'll choose weapons, the captain and I will measure the ground. Faulk. My weapons, sir! Acres. Odds life! sir Lucius, I'm not going to fight Mr Faulkland-These are my particular friends. Sir Luc. What,, sir, did not you come nere to fight Mr Acres? Faulk. Not I, upon my word, sir! Sir Luc. Well, now, that's mighty provoking! But I hope, Mr Faulkland, as there are three of us come on purpose for the game, you won't be so cantanckerous as to spoil the party by sitting out? Abs. O pray, Faulkland, fight to oblige sir Lu- | will resign the lady, without forcing you to proceed against him? cius. Faulk. Nay, if Mr Acres is so bent on the matter Acres. No, no, Mr Faulkland-I'll bear my disappointment like a Christian. Look'e, sir Lucius, there's no occasion at all for me to fight; and, if it is the same to you, I'd as lieve let it alone. Sir Luc. Observe me, Mr Acres, I must not be trifled with. You have certainly challenged somebody-and you came here to fight him-Now, if that gentleman is willing to represent him, I can't see, for my soul, why it is not just the same thing. Acres. Why, no-sir Lucius-I tell you 'tis one Beverley I've challenged a fellow, you see, that dare not show his face! If he were here, I'd make him give up his pretensions directly! Abs. Hold, Bob-let me set you right.-There is no such man as Beverley in the case. The person who assumed that name is before you; and, as his pretensions are the same in both characters, he is ready to support them in whatever way you please. Sir Luc. Well, this is lucky.-Now you have an opportunity— Acres. What! quarrel with my dear friend Jack Absolute-not if he were fifty Beverley's! Zounds! sir Lucius, you would not have me so unnatural. Abs. Come on, then, sir [Draws.]; since you won't let it be an amicable suit, here's my reply! Enter SIR ANTHONY, DAVID, and the Women. David. Knock them all down, sweet sir Anthony-knock down my master in particular-and bind his hands over to their good behaviour! Sir Anth. Put up, Jack, put up, or I shall be in a phrenzy---How came you in a duel, sir? Abs. Faith, sir, that gentleman can tell you better than I! 'twas he called on me; and, you know, sir, I serve his majesty. Sir Anth. Here's a pretty fellow! I catch him going to cut a man's throat, and he tells me, he serves his majesty!-Zounds! sirrah, then how durst you draw the king's sword against one of his subjects? Abs. Sir, I tell you! That gentleman called me out, without explaining his reasons. Sir Anth. Gad, Sir! how came you to call my son out, without explaining your reasons? Sir Luc. Your son, sir, insulted me in a manner which my honour could not brook. Sir Anth. Zounds! Jack, how durst you insult the gentleman in a manner which his honour could not brook? Mrs Mal. Come, come, let's have no honour before ladies; Captain Absolute, come here— How could you intimidate us so? Here's Lydia has been terrified to death for you. Abs. For fear I should be killed, or escape, Mrs Mal. Nay, no delusions to the pastLydia is convinced; speak, child. Sir Luc. Upon my conscience, Mr Acres, your valour has oozed away with a vengeance! Acres. Not in the least! Odds backs and abet-madam ? tors! I'll be your second with all my heart—and, if you should get a quietus, you may command me entirely. I'll get you snug lying in the abbey here; or pickle you, and send you over to Blun-in derbuss-hall, or any thing of the kind, with the greatest pleasure. Sir Luc. Pho, pho! you are little better than a coward. Acres. Mind, gentlemen, he calls me a coward! Coward was the word, by my valour! Sir Luc. Well, sir? Sir Luc. With your leave, madam, I must put a word here; I believe I could interpret the young lady's silence-Now mark Lydia. What is it you mean, sir? Sir Luc. Come, come, Delia, we must be serious now; this is no time for trifling. Lydia. Tis true, sir; and your reproof bids me offer this gentleman my hand, and solicit the return of his affections. Acres. Look'e, sir Lucius, 'tis not that I mind Abs. O my little angel, say you so?-Sir the word coward--coward may be said in joke-- Lucius, I perceive there must be some mistake But if you had called me a poltroon, odds dag-here-with regard to the affront which you gers and balls—————— affirm I have given you. I can only say, that it could not have been intentional. And as you Sir Luc. Well, sir? Acres. I should have thought you a very ill-must be convinced, that I should not fear to sup bred man. Sir Luc. Pho! you are beneath my notice. Abs. Nay, sir Lucius, you can't have a better second than my friend Acres-He is a most determined dog-called in the country, Fighting Bob.-He generally kills a man a week! Don't you, Bob? Acres. Av; at home! port a real injury-you shall now see that I am not ashamed to atone for an inadvertency-I ask your pardon.-But for this lady, while honoured with her approbation, I will support my claim against any man whatever. Sir Anth. Well said, Jack, and I'll stand by you, my boy! Acres. Mind, I give up all my claim-I make Sir Luc. Well, then, captain, 'tis we must be-no pretensions to any thing in the world-and if git--so come out, my little counsellor [Draws I can't get a wife, without fighting for her, by my his sword.], and ask the gentleman, whether he valour, I'll live a bachelor. [Takes out letters. Mrs Mal. O, he will dissolve my mystery! Sir Lucius, perhaps there's some mistake-perhaps I can illuminate Sir Luc. Captain, give me your hand-an | weakness to the account of love, I should be unaffront handsomely acknowledged becomes an generous not to admit the same plea for your's. obligation-and as for the lady-if she chooses Faulk. Now I shall be blest indeed!to deny her own hand-writing here— [SIR ANTHONY comes forward. Sir Anth. What's going on here? So you have been quarrelling too, I warrant.- -Come, Julia, I never interfered before; but let me have a hand in the matter at last.-All the faults I Sir Luc. Pray, old gentlewoman, don't inter- have ever seen in my friend Faulkland, seemed fere where you have no business.—Miss Lan-to proceed from what he calls the delicacy and guish, are you my Delia, or not? warmth of his affection for you-There, marry him directly, Julia; you'll find he'li mend surprisingly! [The rest come forward. Lydia. Indeed, sir Lucius, I am not. [LYDIA and ABSOLUTE walk aside. Mrs Mal. Sir Lucius O'Trigger-ungrateful as you are--I own the soft impeachment-pardon my blushes, I am Delia! Sir Luc. You Delia-pho! pho! be easy! Mrs Mal. Why, thou barbarous Vandykethose letters are mine-When you are more sensible of my benignity--perhaps I may be brought to encourage your addresses. Sir Luc. Mrs Malaprop, I am extremely sensible of your condescension; and whether you or Lucy have put this trick upon me, I am equally beholden to you.--And, to shew you I am not ungrateful, captain Absolute, since you have taken that lady from me, I'll give you my Delia into the bargain. Abs. I am much obliged to you, sir Lucius; but here's my friend, Fighting Bob, unprovided for. Sir Luc. Hah! little Valour-here, will you make your fortune? Acres. Odds wrinkles! No.-But give me your hand, sir Lucius; forget and forgive; but if ever I give you a chance of pickling me again, say Bob Acres is a dunce, that's all. Sir Anth. Come, Mrs Malaprop, don't be cast down---you are in your bloom yet. Mrs Mal. O sir Anthony !---men are all barbarians [All retire but JULIA and FAULKLAND. Julia. He seems dejected and unhappy-not sullen-there was some foundation, however, for the tale he told me-O woman! how true should be your judgment, when your resolution is so weak! Faulk. Julia !-how can I sue for what I so little deserve? I dare not presume-yet Hope is the child of Penitence. Julia. Oh! Faulkland, you have not been more faulty in your unkind treatment of me, than I am now in wanting inclination to resent it. As my heart honestly bids me place my Sir Luc. Come now, I hope there is no dissatisfied person, but what is content; for as I have been disappointed myself, it will be very hard if I have not the satisfaction of seeing other people succeed better Acres. You are right, sir Lucius. So, Jack, I wish you joy-Mr Faulkland, the same.—Ladies, -come now, to shew you I'm neither vexed nor angry, odds Tabors and Pipes! I'il order the fiddles in half an hour, to the New Roomsand I insist on your all meeting me there. Sir Anth. Gad! Sir, I like your spirit; and at night we single lads will drink a health to the young couples, and a husband to Mrs Malaprop. Faulk. Our partners are stolen from us, Jack I hope to be congratulated by each otheryours for having checked in time, the errors of an ill-directed imagination, which might have betrayed an innocent heart; and mine, for having, by her gentleness and candour, reformed the unhappy temper of one, who, by it, made wretched whom he loved most, and tortured the heart he ought to have adored. Abs. Well, Jack, we have both tasted the bitters, as well as the sweets, of love with this difference only, that you always prepared the bitter cup for yourself, while I Lydia. Was always obliged to me for it! hey, Mr Modesty? But come, no more of that-our happiness is now as unallayed as general. Julia. Then let us study to preserve it so: and while Hope pictures to us a flattering scene of future bliss, let us deny its pencil those colours which are too bright to be lasting.--When hearts deserving happiness would unite their fortunes, Virtue would crown them with an unfading garland of modest hurtless flowers; but ill-judging Passion will force the gaudier rose into the wreath, whose thorn offends them, when its leaves are dropt! [Exeunt omnes. FRAMPTON at his desk. Enter MANLOVE as from his walk-FRAMPTON rises, and meets him with some pupers. Framp. You have lengthened your walk this morning? Man. Very likely: The gardens were pleasant, and I believe I have rather excceded my usual stint. Framp. By just one turn upon the Terrace. Man. You measured me, I see. We men of business, Frampton, contract strange habits of regularity. Framp. And bachelors too, sir. Man. Very true, very true: A wife now and then does put a man a little out of method, I have heard. Is any body waiting? Framp. No body. Man. Any cases? Framp. Several. [Gives him papers. Man. Bless me! was the world of my mind, they would patch up their differences over a bottle, and let the grass grow in our inns of court. Let me see-what have we got here? [Reads.] A detects B plucking turnips out of his field, &c. Here's a fellow for you! he'll go to law with the crows for picking worms out of his dunghill : Prosecute a fellow-creature for a turnipA turnip be his damages! Framp. And his food, too-at least till he's a better man. Man. [Reading.] 'Nicholas Swanskin, taylor, in Threadneedle-street, would be glad to know how to proceed in a legal way against his wife, in a case of cohabitancy?-Had you any fee with this case? Frump. A light guinea, sir. Man. 'Tis more than a light woman deserves: Give the taylor his guinea again; bid him proceed to his work, and leave a good-for-nothing wife to go on with hers-and hark'e, Frampton, you seem to want a new coat-suppose you let him take your measure-the fellow, you see, would fain be cutting out work for the lawyers. Send Mr Dibble hither. Oh, he is come. [FRAMPTON retires to his desk. Enter DIBBLE, with papers. Mr Dibble, have you got Miss Fairfax's papers? Dib. They are in my hand, sir. Man. Have you copied my opinion upon the will? Dib. It is ready for signing. [DIB. gives him a pen, and MAN. signs a paper.] Man. There, sir. You've compared it, no doubt-Put the papers under one inclosure, and carry them to Miss Fairfax's; make my respects, and say I will have the honour of waiting on her this forenoon, and stating some particulars in my opinion that may want explaining. Dib. I shall, sir. [Goes to the table, and puts up the papers. Man. Are you ready, Frampton? You and I must step to the hall, How we appear to that spruce gentleman! His father wore a livery-his sister is waiting-woman to Miss Fairfax, the very lady he is going to in that monkey habit! Is there no persuading him to suit his dress to his condition? Believe me, Frampton, there is much good sense in old distinctions: When the law lays down its full-bottomed periwig, you will find less wisdom in bald pates than you are aware of. [Exeunt MAN. and FRAM. Dib. What a damned queer figure old Frampton makes of himself! I must never shew him at our Sunday's club-never. The counsellor's little better: It does well enough for chamber practice, but he couldn't walk the hall in that wig: Its nothing now unless a good club of hair peeps under the tye. I hope shorty to see the day when Westminster hall shall be able to count cues with the parade. [He sits down. A knocking at the door.] Who's at the door? Come inYou expect now I should rise and open it? not I, in faith; do that office for yourself, or stay where you are. Ah, Gregory, is it you? what wind blew you hither? what witch brought you at her back? Enter GREGORY. Gre. No witch, but an old bone-setting mare, with a heavy cloak-bag at her crupper, that has played a bitter tune upon my ribs. Where's his honour, Master Dibble? Dib. Out-Give me hold of thy hand, old boy. What's the best news in your parts? Hav'n't earthed old Surly-boots yet? Gre. Earthed him! no such luck; he's a tough morsel. He's above ground, as my head can testify. [Shews his skull. Dib. Why that's action and battery with a vengeance! Gre. Battery! he knows the strength of my skull, as well as a sand-man knows the back of his ass, and cudgels it as often: but he's hard at hand-When will his honour, Manlove, be at home? Dib. Presently, presently. What brings your old blade hither? Greg. The old errand: a little bit of law; a small jig to the tune of John Doe and Richard Roe; that's all. Dib. Plaintiff, I bet five to one. But how does my playmate, Jack? how fares it with young Hopeful? Gre. Gad's-my-life, well remembered! here's a writing for you: 'tis a merciless scrawl, to be sure; he's not at all come on in his running-hand; not at all; no, though I talk to him, and talk to him, and tell him what a fine young man his brother Charles is here-Mr Manlove, I must all him now; for his honour, I am told, since his return from travel, has nominated him afresh after himself, has not he, Master Dibble? Dib. Ay, ay; 'twas done last sessions; he's no longer Charles Nightshade, but Charles Manlove, Esq. and a brave estate he's got by the exchange. Gre. All these things I ding into the ears of our young scape-grace, Jack; but, I might as well whistle the birds from the sky, as talk him out of his tricks; mobbing with the carter-fellows, and scampering after the maids: all the while, too, the arch knave contrives to blind the eyes of old Choleric, his father, sitting as demure as a cat, 'till he is fairly in for his evening's nap; then, away goes he, like hey-go-mad, all the parish over. Weil, have you made out his letter? Dib. I'll attempt to read it to you. 'JOHN NIGHTSHADE,' So you are privy to this trip, Gregory? Gre. To be sure, master Dibble; we are all of his side: there is not a servant would peach, if he was to commit murder amongst them. Dib. Indeed! But hold, here is more over the leaf. Gregory says I was of age last Lammas; if you know of ever a clean tight wench, that will take me out of old Choleric's clutches, I 'don't care if I buckle to, for life. N. B. She must have the Spanish, or the bait won't take.' |