you forgive me; come but to tell me that; now | SCENE III.--MRS MALAPROP's lodgings. Enter MRS MALAPROP, with a letter in her hand, and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. Mrs Mal. Your being sir Anthony's son, captain, would itself be a sufficient accommodation; but, from the ingenuity of your appearance, I am convinced you deserve the character here given of you. Abs. Permit me to say, madam, that, as I never yet have had the pleasure of seeing Miss Languish, my principal inducement, in this affair, at present, is the honour of being allied to Mrs Malaprop; of whose intellectual accomplishments, elegant manners, and unaffected learning, no tongue is silent. Mrs Mal. Sir, you do me infinite honour! I beg, captain, you'll be seated.-[Sit.]-Ah! few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value the ineffectual qualities in a woman! Few think how a little knowledge becomes a gentlewoman! Men have no sense, now, but for the worthless flower of beauty! Abs. It is but too true, indeed, madam; yet I fear our ladies should share the blame; they think our adıniration of beauty so great, that knowledge in them would be superfluous. Thus, like garden trees, they seldom shew fruit, till time has robbed them of the more specious blossom. Few, like Mrs Malaprop and the orangetree, are rich in both at once! Mrs Mal. Sir, you overpower me with goodbreeding; he is the very pine-apple of politeness. You are not ignorant, captain, that this giddy girl has somehow contrived to fix her affections on a beggarly, strolling, eve's-dropping ensign, whom noue of us have seen, and nobody knows any thing of. thing in my power, since I exploded the affair; long ago I laid my positive conjunctions on her, never to think on the fellow again. I have since laid sir Anthony's preposition before her; but, I am sorry to say, she seems resolved to decline every particle that I enjoin her. Abs. It must be very distressing, indeed, madam. Mrs Mal. Oh! it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree! I thought she had persisted from corresponding with him; but, behold, this very day, I have interceded another letter from the fellow; I believe I have it in my pocket. Abs. O the devil! my last note. Mrs Mal. Ay; here it is. [Aside. Abs. Ay; my note indeed! O the little traitress Lucy! [Aside. Mrs Mal. There; perhaps you may know the dam. ly. Mrs Mal. But go on, sir; you'll see present Abs. As for the old weather-beaten she-dra'gon, who guards you,'-Who can he mean by that? Mrs Mal. Me, sir: me: he means me there; what do you think, now? But go on a little further. Abs. Impudent scoundrel!—' It shall go hard 'but I will elude her vigilance, as I am told that 'the same ridiculous vanity, which makes her 'dress up her coarse features, and deck her dull chat with hard words which she don't understand' Mrs Mal. There, sir! an attack upon my language! What do you think of that? An aspersion upon my parts of speech! Was ever such a brute! Sure, if I reprehend any thing in this world, it is the use of my oracular tongue, and a Abs. O, I have heard the silly affair before.-nice derangement of epitaphs! I am not at all prejudiced against her on that ac count. Mrs Mal. You are very good, and very considerate, captain. I am sure I have done every Abs. He deserves to be hanged and quartered! Mrs Mal. You need not read it again, sir. 'her open to the grossest deceptions from flattery and pretended admiration;'-an impudent coxcomb! so that I have a scheme to see you shortly with the old harridan's consent, and ' even to make her a go-between in our inter'view. Was ever such assurance! Mrs Mal. Did you ever hear any thing like it? He'll elude my vigilance, will he-yes, yes! Ha, ha! he's very likely to enter these doors! We'll try who can plot best! Abs. So we will, madam; so we will. Ha, ha, ha! a conceited puppy, ha, ha, ha! Well, but, Mrs Malaprop, as the girl seems so infatuated by this fellow, suppose you were to wink at her corresponding with him for a little time---let her even plot an elopement with him-then do you connive at her escape-while I, just in the nick, will have the fellow laid by the heels, and fairly contrive to carry her off in his stead! Mrs Mal. I am delighted with the scheme! never was any thing better perpetrated! Lbs. But, pray, could not I see the lady for a few minutes, now? I should like to try her temper a little. Mrs Mal. Why, I don't know; I doubt she is not prepared for a visit of this kind. There is a decorum in these matters. Abs. O Lord! she won't mind me; her Beverley Mrs Mal. Sir! Abs. Gently, good tongue! only tell [Aside. Mrs Mal. What did you say of Beverley? Abs. O, I was going to propose that you should tell her, by way of jest, that it was Beverley who was below; she'd come down fast enough then -ha, ha, ha! he can, Mrs Mal. Twould be a trick she well deserves; besides, you know the fellow tells her he'll get my consent to her; ha, ha! Let him if I say again. Lydia, come down here! [Calling. He'll make me a go-between in their interviews! Ha, ha, ha! Come down, I say, Lydia! I don't wonder at your laughing; ha, ha, ha! His impudence is truly ridiculous, Abs. 'Tis very ridiculous, upon my soul, madam! ha, ha, ha! Abs. As you please, madam. Mrs Mal. Fo. the present, captain, your servant. Ah! you've not done laughing yet, I see; elude my vigilance! yes, yes; ha, ha, ha! Enter LYDIA. Lydia. What a scene am I now to go through! Surely nothing can be more dreadful, than to be obliged to listen to the loathsome addresses of a stranger to one's heart. I have heard of girls, persecuted as I am, who have appealed in behalf of their favoured lover, to the generosity of his rival: suppose I were to try it--there stands the hated rival-an officer, too! But O how unlike my Beverley! I wonder he don't begin; truly, he seems a very negligent wooer! Quite at his ease, upon my word! I'll speak first; Mr Absolute! [Turns round. Lydia. O Heavens! Beverley! Abs. Hush! hush, my life! softly! be not surprised! Abs. Madam. Lydia, I am so astonished! and so terrified! and so overjoyed!for Heaven's sake! how came you here? Abs. Briefly I have deceived your auntI was informed, that my new rival was to visit. here this evening; and, contriving to have him kept away, have passed myself on her for captain Absolute. Lydia. O charming!—And she really takes you for young Absolute? Abs. Ŏ, she's convinced of it! Lydia. Ha, ha, ha! I can't forbear laughing, to think how her sagacity is over-reached ! Abs. But we trifle with our precious moments -such another opportunity may not occurthen let me now conjure my kind, my condescending angel, to fix the time when I may rescue her from undeserving persecution, and, with a licensed warmth, plead for my reward. Lydia. Will you, then, Beverley, consent to forfeit that portion of my paltry wealth? that burden on the wings of love? Abs. O, come to me-rich only thus--in loveliness!-Bring no portion to me but thy love'twill be generous in you, Lydia—for well you know, it is the only dower your poor Beverley can repay. Lydia. How persuasive are his words!—how charming will poverty be with him! Mrs Mal. The little hussy won't hear. Well, I'll go and tell her at once who it is; she shall know that captain Absolute is come to wait on Abs. Ah! my soul, what a life will we then her. And I'll make her behave as becomes alive! Love shall be our idol and support! we young woman. will worship him with a monastic strictness; abjuring all worldly toys, to centre every thought and action there! Proud of calamity, we will enjoy the wreck of wealth; while the surrounding gloom of adversity shall make the flame of our pure love show doubly bright. By Heavens! I would fling all goods of fortune from me with a prodigal hand, to enjoy the scene where I might clasp my Lydia to my bosom, and say, the world affords no smile to me-but here— -[Embra cing her.] If she holds out now, the devil is in it! [Aside. [Erit MRS MAL. Abs. Ha, ha, ha! One would think, now, that I might throw off all disguise at once, and seize my prize with security; but such is Lydia's caprice, that to, undeceive were probably to lose her. I'll see whether she knows me. [Walks aside, and seems engaged in looking Lydia. Now could I fly with him to the Anti podes! but my persecution is not yet come to a crisis. Enter MRS MALAPROP, listening. Mrs Mal. I am impatient to know how the little hussy deports herself. [Aside. Abs. So pensive, Lydia!-Is, then, your warmth abated? Mrs Mal. Warmth abated!—so, she has been in a passion, I suppose? Lydia. No-nor ever can while I have life. Mrs Mal. An ill-tempered little devil! She'll be in a passion all her life-will she? Lydia. Think not the idle threats of my ridiculous aunt can ever have any weight with me. Mrs Mal. Very dutiful, upon my word! Lydia. Let her choice be captain Absolute, but Beverley is mine. Mrs Mal. I am astonished at her assurance! To his face!-this is to his face! Abs. Thus, then, let me enforce my suit. Lydia. May every blessing wait on my Beverley, my loved Bev~ Mrs Mal. Hussy! I'll choak the word in your throat! Come along, come along! [Exeunt severally-ABSOLUTE kissing his hand to LYDIA-MRS MALAPROP stopping her from speaking. SCENE IV.-ACRES's lodgings. ACRES and DAVID-ACRES as just dressed. Acres. Indeed, David! do you think I become it so? David. You are quite another creature, believe me, master, by the mass! an' we've any luck, we shall see the Devon monkerony in all the printshops in Bath! Acres. Dress does make a difference, David. 6 David. 'Tis all in all, I think---difference! why, an' you were to go now to Clod-Hall, I am certain the old lady wouldn't know you: master [Kneeling. Butler wouldn't believe his own eyes; and Mrs Mrs Mar. Aye, poor young man!-down on Pickle would cry, Lard preserve me!' our daihis knees intreating for pity!- I can containry-maid would come giggling to the door; and I no longer. Why, thou vixen! I have overheard warrant Dolly Tester, your honour's favourite, you! would blush like my waistcoat!—Oons! I'll hold a gallon, there an't a dog in the house but would bark, and I question whether Phillis would wag a hair of her tail! Abs. O, confound her vigilance! [Aside. Mrs Mal. Captain Absolute, I know not how to apologize for her shocking rudeness. Abs. So-all's safe, I find. [Aside.]—I have hopes, madam, that time will bring the young la-ing. dy Mrs Mal. O, there's nothing to be hoped for from her-she's as headstrong as an allegory on the banks of Nile! Lydia. Nay, madam; what do you charge me with, now? Mrs Mal. Why, thou unblushing rebel! did not you tell this gentleman, to his face, that you loved another better? did not you say you never would be his? Lydia. No, madam, I did not. Mrs Mal. Good Heavens! what assurance! Lydia, Lydia, you ought to know, that lying don't become a young woman! Did not you boast, that Beverley-that stroller Beverley, possessed your heart? Tell me that, I say! cres. Aye, David, there's nothing like polish David. So I says of your honour's boots; but the boy never heeds me! Acres. But, David, has Mr De-la-grace been here? I must rub up my balancing, and chasing, and boring. David. I'll call again, sir. Acres. Do--and see if there are any letters for me at the post-office. David. I will. By the mass, I can't help looking at your head! If I hadn't been by at the cooking, I wish I may die if I should have known the dish again myself! [Exit. ACRES comes forward, practising a dancing step. Acres. Sink, slide-coupee-Confound the first Lydia. 'Tis true, madam, and none but Be-inventors of cotillons, say I-they are as bad as verley Mrs Mal. Hold! hold, assurance! you shall not be so rude. Abs. Nav; pray, Mrs Malaprop, don't stop the young lady's speech: she's very welcome to talk thus it does not hurt me in the least, I assure you. algebra to us country gentlemen-I can walk a minuet easy enough, when I am forced-and I have been accounted a good stick in a countrydance.--Odds jiggs and tabors!-I never valued your cross-over to couple-figure in-right and left-and I'd foot it with e'er a captain in the county!-but these outlandish heathen alleMrs Mal. You are too good, captain-too ami-mandes and cotillons are quite beyond me!--[ ably patient-but come with me, miss.-Let us see you again soon, captain-remember what we have fixed. shall never prosper at them, that's sure-mine are true-born English legs-they don't understand their curst French lingo!--their pas this, and pas that, and pas t'other!-Damn me! my feet don't Mrs Mal. Come, take a graceful leave of the like to be called paws! no, 'tis certain I have gentieman. Abs. I shall, madam. most antigallican toes! Enter SERVANT. or my little Alexander the Great, ever inquired where the right lay? No, by my soul! they drew Ser. Here is sir Lucius O'Trigger to wait on their broad swords, and left the lazy sons of you, sir. Acres. Shew him in. Enter SIR LUCIUS. Sir Luc. Mr Acres, I am delighted to embrace you. Acres. My dear sir Lucius, I kiss your hands. Sir Luc. Pray, my friend, what has brought you so suddenly to Bath? Acres. Faith! I have followed Cupid's jack-alantern, and find myself in a quagmire at last! In short, I have been very ill-used, sir Lucius. I don't choose to mention names; but look on me as on a very ill-used gentleman. Sir Luc. Pray, what is the case? I ask no names. Acres. Mark me, sir Lucius: I fall as deep as need be in love with a young lady-her friends take my part-I follow her to Bath---send word of my arrival-and receive answer, that the lady is to be otherwise disposed of! This, sir Lucius, I call being ill-used. Sir Luc, Very ill, upon my conscience! Pray, can you divine the cause of it? Acres. Why, there's the matter; she has another lover, one Beverley, who, I am told, is now in Bath.-Odds slanders and lies! he must be at the bottom of it! Sir Luc. A rival in the case, is there? And you think he has supplanted you unfairly? Acres. Unfairly! to be sure he has. He never could have done it fairly. Sir Luc. Then, sure you know what is to be done? Acres. Not I, upon my soul! Sir Luc. We wear no swords here; but you understand me? Acres. What! fight him? Sir Luc. Aye, to be sure; what can I mean else? Acres. But he has given me no provocation. Sir Luc. Now, I think he has given you the greatest provocation in the world. Can a man commit a more heinous offence against another, than to fall in love with the same woman? O, by my soul! it is the most unpardonable breach of friendship. Acres. Breach of friendship! Aye, aye; but I have no acquaintance with this man. I never saw him in my life. Sir Luc. That's no argument at all; he has the less right, then, to take such a liberty. Acres. Gad! that's true-I grow full of anger, sir Lucius! I fire apace! Odds hilts and blades! I find a man may have a deal of valour in him, and not know it! But couldn't I contrive to have a little right of my side? Sir Luc. What the devil signifies right, when your honour is concerned? Do you think Achilles, peace to settle the justice of it. Acres. Your words are a grenadier's march to my heart! I believe courage must be catching! I certainly do feel a kind of valour rising as it were--a kind of courage, as I may say- -Odds flints, pans, and triggers! I'll challenge him directly. Sir Luc. Ah, my little friend! if I had Blunderbuss-hall here I could show you a range of ancestry, in the O'Trigger line, that would furnish the new room! every one of whom had killed his man! For though the mansion-house and dirty acres have slipt through my fingers, I thank Heaven, our honour, and the family-pictures, are as fresh as ever! Acres. O, sir Lucius, I have had ancestors, too!-every man of them colonel or captain in the militia!- -Odds balls and barrels! say no more--I'm braced for it!-The thunder of your words has soured the milk of human kindness in my breast!Zounds! as the man in the play says, 'I could do such deeds-' Sir Luc. Come, come; there must be no passion at all in the case-these things should always be done civilly. Acres. I must be in a passion, sir Lucius—I must be in a rage.-Dear sir Lucius, let me be in a rage, if you love me.-Come, here's pen and paper. [Sits down to write.] I would the ink were red!-Indite, I say indite!-How shall I begin! Odds bullets and blades! I'll write a good bold hand, however. Sir Luc. Pray, compose yourself. Acres. Come-now, shall I begin with an oath? Do, sir Lucius, let me begin with a damme! Sir Luc. Pho, pho! do the thing decently, and like a Christian. Begin now-Sir Acres. That's too civil by half. will put a stop, at once, to all confusion or mis- just such another affair on my own hands. There understanding that might arise between you. is a gay captain here, who put a jest on me lateAcres. Aye, we fight to prevent any misunder-ly, at the expence of my country, and I only want standing. to fall in with the gentleman, to call him out. Sir Luc. Now, I'll leave you to fix your own time. Take my advice, and you'll decide it this evening, if you can; then let the worst come of it, 'twill be off your mind to-morrow. Acres. Very true. Sir Luc. So I shall see nothing more of you, unless it be by letter, till the evening. I would do myself the honour to carry your message; but, to tell you a secret, I believe I shall have SCENE I.-ACRES' lodgings. Acres. By my valour, I should like to see you fight first! Odds life! I should like to see you kill him, if it was only to get a little lesson. Sir Luc. I shall be very proud of instructing you.- -Well, for the present-but remember now, when you meet your antagonist, do every thing in a mild and agreeable manner. Let your courage be as keen, but, at the same time, as polished as your sword. [Exeunt severally. ACT IV. Enter ACRES and DAVID. David. THEN, by the mass, sir, I would do no such thing!-ne'er a sir Lucius O'Trigger in the kingdom should make me fight, when I wa'n't so minded. Oons! what will the old lady say, when she hears o't? Acres. Ah! David, if you had heard sir Lucius! Odds sparks and flames! he would have roused your valour. David. Not he, indeed. I hates such bloodthirsty cormorants. Look'ee, master, if you'd wanted a bout at boxing, quarter-staff, or shortstaff, I should never be the man to bid you cry, off: But for your curst sharps and snaps, I never knew any good come of them. Acres. But my honour, David, my honour! I must be very careful of my honour. David. Aye, by the mass! and I would be very careful of it; and I think, in return, my honour couldn't do less than to be very careful of me. Acres. Odds blades, David! no gentleman will ever risk the loss of his honour! David. I say, then, it would be but civil in honour never to risk the loss of a gentlemanLook'ee, master, this honour seems to me to be a marvellous false friend! aye, truly, a very courtier-like servant!-Put the case: I was a gentle-❘ man (which, thank God! no one can say of me); well, my honour makes me quarrel with another gentleman of my acquaintance.- -So, we fight, (Pleasant enough that!) Boh! I kill him! (the more's my luck). Now, pray, who gets the profit of it? Why, my honour!-But, put the case, that he kills me -By the mass! I go to the worms, and my honour whips over to my enemy! Acres. No, David--in that case! Odds crowns and laurels! your honour follows you to the grave. David. Now, that's just the place where I could make a shift to do without it. Acres. Zounds! David, you are a coward! It doesn't become my valour to listen to you. VOL. II. What, shall I disgrace my ancestors? Think of that, David; think what it would be to disgrace my ancestors! David. Under favour, the surest way of not disgracing them, is to keep as long as you can out of their company. Look'e now, master, to go to them in such haste, with an ounce of lead in your brains! I should think might as well be let alone. Our ancestors are very good kind of folks; but they are the last people I should choose to have a visiting acquaintance with. Acres. But, David, now, you don't think there is such very, very, very, very great danger! hey? Odds life! people often fight without any mischief done! David. By the mass, I think 'tis ten to one against you!-Oons! here to meet some lionheaded fellow, I warrant, with his damned double-barrelled swords, and cut-and-thrust pistols! lord bless us ! it makes me tremble to think o't!-Those be such desperate bloodyminded weapons! Well, I never could abide them! from a child I never could fancy them!-I suppose there a'n't been so merciless a beast in the world as your loaded pistol! Acres. Zounds! I won't be afraid-Odds fire and fury! you shan't make me afraid.Here is the challenge, and I have sent for my dear friend Jack Absolute to carry it for me. David. Ave, in the name of mischief, let him be the messenger.---For my part, I wouldn't lend a hand to it for the best horse in your stable. By the mass! it don't look like another letter ! It is, as I may say, a designing and maliciouslooking letter; and I warrant smells of gunpowder like a soldier's pouch!--Oons! I wouldn't swear it may'nt go off! Acres. Out, you poltroon !—you haʼn't the valour of a grass-hopper. David. Well, I say no more; 'twill be sad news, to be sure, at Clod Hall! but I have done. How Phillis will howl when she hears of it!Aye, poor bitch, she little thinks what shooting her master's going after! And I warrant old Crop, who has carried your honour, field and 6 N |