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Lydia. Madam, I have told you my resolu- Mrs Mal. Sir Anthony, shall we leave them tion - I shall not only give him no encourage together? Ah, you stubborn little vixen! ment, but I won't even speak to, or look at him.
[Aside to her. [Flings herself into a chair, with her face Sir Anth. Not yet, madam, not yet! what the from the door.]
devil are you at? unlock your jaws, sirrah, or
[Aside to him. Enter Sir ANTHONY, and ABSOLUTE.
[ABSOLUTE draws near Lydia.] Sir Anth. Here we are, Mrs Malaprop, come Abs. Now Heaven send she may be too sullen to mitigate the frowns of unrelenting beauty ; to look round! I must disguise my voice. (Aside. and difficulty enough I had to bring this fel- Speaks in a low hoarse tone.) Will not Miss low.-I don't know what's the matter; but, if I Languish lend an ear to the mild accents of true had not held him by force, he'd have given me
love? Will not the slip.
Sir Anth. What the devil ails the fellow Mrs Mal. You have infinite trouble, sir An- Why don't you speak out? not stand croaking thony, in the affair.-I am ashamed for the cause! like a frog in a quinsey ! Lydia, Lydia, rise, I beseech you pay your re
Abs. The-the-excess of my awe, and myspects!
[ Aside to her. my-my inodesty, quite choak me! Sir Anth. I hope, madam, that miss Languish Sir Anth. Ah, your modesty again! I'll tell has reflected on the worth of this gentlema.), and you what, Jack, if you don't speak out directly, the regard due to her aunt's choice, and my alli- and glibly, too, I shall be in such a rage! Mrs ance. Now, Jack, speak to her. (Aside to him. Malaprop, I wish the lady would favour us with
Abs. What the devil shall I do? [Aside.) You something more than a side front. see, sir, she won't even look at me, whilst you [Mrs MALAPROP seems to chide Lydia. are here. I knew she would not !- I told you Abs. So all will out, I see! [Goes up to Lyso-Let me entreat you, sir, to leave us toge- DIA-speaks softly.] Be not surprised, my Lydia; ther!
suppress all surprise at present. [ABSOLUTE seems to expostulate with his Lydia. [Asiite.] Heavens ! 'tis Beverley's father.]
voice ! Sure he can't have imposed on sir Aile Lydia. [Aside. I wonder I have not heard mythony, too! [Looks round by degrees, then starts aunt exclaim yet? sure she can't have looked at up.] this possible! my Beverley! how can him perhaps their regimentals are alike, this be, my Beverley? and she is something blind.
Abs. Ah, 'tis all over!
[ Aside. Sir Anth. I say, sir, I won't stir a foot, yet. Sir Anth. Beverley! the devil! Beverley !
Mrs Mal. I am sorry to say, sir Anthony, that What can the girl mean? This is my son, Jack my affluence over my niece is very small. ---Turn Absolute. round, Lydia ; I blush for you! [Aside to her. Mrs Mal. For shame, hussy; for shame!
Sir Anth. May I not flatter myself, that Miss your head runs so on that fellow, that you have Languish will assign what cause of dislike she can him always in your eyes; beg captain Absolute's have to my son !-Why don't you begin, Jack ? - pardon directly. Speak, you puppy-speak ! [Aside to him. Lydia. I see no captain Absolute, but my
loMrs Val. It is impossible, sir Anthony, she ved Beverley! can have any.-She will not say she has.
Sir Anth. Zounds, the girl's mad! her brain's Answer, hussy! why don't you answer? turned by reading !
[ Aside to her. Mrs Mal. O' my conscience, I believe so ! Sir Anth. Then, madam, I trust that a childish What do you mean by Beverley, hussy? You and hasty predilection will be no bar to Jack's saw captain Absolute before to-day; there he is; happiness. -Zounds, sirrah, why don't you your husband that shall be. speak?
[Aside to him. Lydia. With all my soul, madam! when I reLydia. ( Aside.] I think my lover seems as lit- fuse my Beverleytle inclined to conversation as myself.—How Sir Anth. O, she's as mad as Bedlam ! or strangely blind my aunt must be!
has this fellow been playing us a rogue's trick ? Abs. Hem, hem! Madam, hem! [ABSOLUTE Come bere, sirrah; who the devil are you? attempts to speak, then returns to Sir ANTHO- Abs. Faith, sir, I am not quite clear myself; NY.] Faith, sir, I am so confounded ! and so, so but I'll endeavour to recollect. confused ! I told you I should be so, sir; I knew Sir Anth. Are you my son, or not? Answer it. The-the-tremor of my passion entirely for your mother, you dog, if you won't for me. takes away my presence of mind.
Árs Mal. Ay, sir, who are you? O mercy, I Sir Anth. But it don't take away your voice, begin to suspect ! fool, does it? Go up, and speak to her directly! Abs. Ye powers of impudence, befriend me! [ABSOLUTE makes signs to Mrs MalAPROP (Aside.] Sir Anthony, most assuredly I am your to leave them together.]
wife's son; and that I sincerely believe myself
to be yours also, I hope my duty has always Hey! Odd's life! I'm in such spirits; I don't shewn. Mrs Malaprop, I am your most respect know what I could not do ! Permit me, madam. ful admirer, and shall be proud to add affec-| [Gives his hand to Mrs MALAPROP. - [Sings.] tionate nephew. I need not tell my Lydia, that | Tol-de-rol! Egad, I should like to have a little she sees ber faithful Beverley, who, knowing the fonling myself. Tol-de-rol ! derolsingular generosity of her temper, assumed that [Erit, singing and handing MRS MALAPROP. name, and a station, which has proved a test of
(Lydia sits sullenly in her chair. the most disinterested love, which he now hopes Abs. So much thought bodes me no good. to enjoy in a more elevated character,
Aside. Lýdia. So, there will be no elopement after So grave, Lydia ! all?
[Sullenly. Lydia. Sir! Sir Anth. Upon my soul, Jack, thou art a Abs. So ! Egad, I thought as much! that very impudent fellow! to do you justice, I damned monosyllable has froze me! (Aside.)think I never saw a piece of more consummate What, Lydia, now that we are as happy in our assurance !
friends' consent, as in our mutual vowsAbs. 0, you Aatter me,
you compliment Lydia. Friends' consent, indeed! [Peevishly. ---'tis my modesty, you know, sir; my modesty Abs. Come, come; we must lay aside some of that has stood in my way.
our romance-a little wealth and comfort may Sir Anth. Well, I am glad you are not the be endured after all. And, for your fortune, the dull, insensible varlet you pretended to be, how- lawyers shall make such settlements asever; I am glad you have made a fool of your Lydia. Lawyers! I hate lawyers ! father, you dog, I am: So this was your peni- Abs. Nay, then, we will not wait for their tence, your duty, and obedience! I thought it lingering forms, but instantly procure the licence, was damned sudden! You never heard their andnames before, not you! What, the Languishes of Lydia. The licence! I hate licence ! Worcestershire, liey? If you could please me in Abs. O, my love! be not so unkind! thus, let the affair, 'twas all you desired ! Ah, you dissem- me intreat
[Kneeling. bling villain! What! (Pointing to Lydia.] she Lydia. Pshaw ! what signifies kneeling, when squints, don't she? a little red-haired girl! hey? you inust I must bave you? W'hy, you hypocrital young rascal! I wonder you Abs. [Rising.) Nay, madam, there shall be are not ashamed to hold up your head ! no constraint upon your inclinations, I promise
Abs. 'Tis with difficulty, sir; I am confused you. If I have lost your heart, I resign the rest. ---very much confused, as you must perceive. "Gad, I must try what a little spirit will do. Mrs Mal. O, lud, sir Anthony !'a new light
[Aside. breaks in upon me! hey! how! what! Captain, Lydia. (Rising:] Then, sir, let me tell you, did you write the letters, then ? What, am ( to the interest you had there was acquired by a thank you for the elegant compilation of an old, mean, unmanly imposition, and deserves the pu' weather-beaten she-dragon, hey? O mercy ! nishment of fraud. What, you have been treatwas it you that reflected on my parts of speech? ing me like a child! humouring my romance
Abs. Dear sir, my modesty will be overpower and laughing, I suppose, at your success ? ed, at last, if you don't assist me.
I shall cer
Abs. You wrong me, Lydia, you wrong me; tainly not be able to stand it!
only hearSir Anth. Come, come, Mrs Malaprop, we Lydia. So, while I fondly imagined we were we must forget and forgive; odd's life! natters deceiving my relations, and Aattered myself that have taken so clever a turn all of a sudden, that I should outwit and incense them all-behold, I could find in my heart, to be so good-bumour-iny hopes are to be crushed at once, by my ed! and so gallant-hey! Mrs Malaprop? aunt's consent and approbation; and I am, myself, Mrs Mal
. Well, sir Anthony, since you desire the only dupe, at last! [Walking about in a heat.) it, we will not anticipate the past; so mind, But, here, sir; here is the picture; Beverley's young people -our retrospection will be all to picture ! [Taking a miniature from her bosom.] the future,
which I have worn,. night and day, in spite of Sir Anth. Come, we must leave them toge- threats and entreaties. There, sir, ( Flings it to ther. Mrs Malaprop, they long to fly into each him.] and be assured I throw the original from other's arins, I warrant. Jack, is not the cheek as my heart as easily. I said, hey? and the eye, you rogue! and the Abs. Nay, nay, madam; we will not differ as lip: hey! Come, Mrs Malaprop, we'll not dis- to that-Here, [Taking out a picture.] here is turb their tenderness-their's is the time of life Miss Lydia Languish. What a difference! aye, for happiness (Sings.].
there is the heavenly assenting smile, that first
gave soul and spirit to my hopes ! those are the Youth's the season made for joy.
lips, which sealed a vow, as yet scarce dry in Cupid's calendar ; and there, the half resentfal blush, that would have checked the ardour of blood of the Absolutes was always impatient! my thanks—Well, all that's past—all over, in- Ha, ha, ha! poor little Lydia! Why, you've deed. There, madam! in beauty, that copy is frightened her, you dog, you have. not equal to you; but, in my mind, it's merit over Abs. By all that's good, sirthe original, in being still the same, is such—that Sir Anth. Zounds! say no more, I tell you. - I cannot find in my heart to part with it. Mrs Malaprop shall make your peace. You must
[Puts it up again. make his peace, Mrs Malaprop : you must tell Lydia. [Softening.] Tis your own doing, sir. her 'tis Jack's way; tell her 'uis all our ways-it I, I, I suppose you are perfectly satisfied ? runs in the blood of our family! Come away,
Abs. 0, most certainly! sure, now, this is Jack-Ha, ha, ha! Mrs Malaprop-a young vilmuch better than being in love ha, ha, ha! | lain !
[Pushes him out. there's some spirit in this! What signifies break- Mrs Mal. O, sir Anthony ! O fie, captain ! ing some scores of solemn promises : all that is of
[Exeunt severally. no consequence, you know. To be sure people will say, that Miss did not know her own mind- SCENE IV.-The North Parade. but never mind that; or, perhaps, they may be ill-natured enough to hint, that the gentleman
Enter Sir Lucius O'TRIGGER. grew tired of the lady and forsook her—but Sir Luc. I wonder where this captain Absodon't let that fret you.
lute hides himself! Upon any conscience! these Lydia. There's no bearing this insolence. officers are always in one's way in love affairs :
[Bursts into tears. I remember I might have married lady Dorothy
Carmine, if it had not been for a little rogue of Enter Mrs MALAPROP and Sir ANTHONY.
a major, who ran away with her before she could Mrs Mal. [Entering.] Come, we must inter- get a sight of me! And I wonder, too, what it is rupt your billing and cooing a while.
the ladies can see in them to be so fond of them! Lydia. This is worse than your treachery and Unless it be a touch of the old serpent in them, deceit, you base ingrate!
(Sobbing: that makes the little creatures be caught, like Sir Anth. What the devil's the matter now? vipers, with a bit of red cloth. Hah! isn't this Zounds, Mrs Malaprop, this is the oddest billing the captain coming? faith it is! There is a proand cooing I ever heard ! but what the deuce is bability of succeeding about that fellow, that is the meaning of it? I am quite astonished ! mighty provoking! Who the devil is he talking Abs. Ask the lady, sir.
(Steps aside. Mrs Mal. O, mercy, I am quite analysed for my part! Why, Lydia, what is the reason of
Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. this?
Abs. To what fine purpose I have been plotLydia. Ask the gentleman, madam.
ting! a noble reward for all my schemes, upon Sir Anth, Zounds! I shall be in a phrenzy ! my soul! a little gypsey! I did not think her rowhy, Jack, you are not come out to be any one mance could have made her so damned absurd else, are you?
either. Sdeath, I never was in a worse humour Mrs Mal. Aye, sir, there's no more trick, is in my life! I cou'd cut my own throat, or any there? you are not like Cerberus, three gentle other person's, with the greatest pleasure in the men at once, are you?
world! Abs. You'll not let me speak-I say the lady Şir Luc. O, faith, I'm in the luck of it! I necan account for this much better than I can. ver could have found him in a sweeter temper
Lydia. Madam, you once commanded me ne- for my purpose; to be sure, I'm just come in the ver to think of Beverley again; there is the man; nick ! now to enter into conversation with him, I now obey you : for, from this moment, I re- and so quarrel genteely. nounce him for ever.
[Sir Lucius goes up to ABSOLUTE. Mrs Mal. O mercy and miracles ! what a With regard to that matter, captain, I must beg turn here is ! why, sure captain, you haven't be leave to differ in opinion with you. haved disrespectfully to my niece?
Abs. Upon my word, then, you must be a very Sir Anth. Ha, ha, ha! Ila, ha, ha! now I see subtle disputant; because, sir, I happened just it! Ha, ha, ha! now I see it! You have been then to be giving no opinion at ali. too lively, Jack.
Sir Luc. That's no reason. For, give me leave Abs. Nay, sir, upon my word !
to tell you, a man may think an untruth as well Sir Anth. Come, no lying, Jack. I'm sure as speak one.
Abs. Very true, sir; but if a man never utters Mrs Mal. O Lud! Sir Anthony ! O fie, Cap- his thoughts, I should think they might stand a tain !
chance of escaping controversy. Abs. Upon my soul, madam
Sir Luc. Then, sir, you differ in opinion with Sir Anth. Come, no excuses, Jack! why, me, which amounts to the same thing. your father, you rogue, was so before you: the Abs. Hark'e, sir Lucius; if I had not before
known you to be a gentleman, upon my soul, Il Faulk. Prithee, be serious. should not have discovered it at this interview: for Abs. 'Tis fact, upon my soul! Sir Lucius ('what you can drive at, unless you mean to quar- Trigger-you know him by sight-for some afrel with me, I cannot conceive!
front, which I am sure I never intended, has obSir Luc. I humbly thank you, sir, for the quick- liged me 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 baúlk 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 erening, 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 Åbs. 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 ruffled, 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 rethe 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 Serdant-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. IIowever, if its the perhaps to bid me return her letters—and resame to you, captain, I should take it as a par
0! huw I suffer for my folly! ticular kindness, if you'd let us meet in King's
Abs. Herc-let me see. Mead Fields, as 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 matters at once.
Abs. 'Tis the same to me exactly. A little af- Faulk. 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 my 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, I pretty small-sword light, though it won't do for • will not add a word on the subject. I wish to à long shot. So that matter's settled, and my speak with you as soon as possible. Your's ever mind's at ease.
[Exit 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 honestly, 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.
gire? 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 matterslet ine 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 ibroat, and I mean to indulge him, that's all. last disappointed by other people's folly, may, in
pity, be allowed to swear and grumble a little ; 1 an idea in my head, whịch 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 a toy for some less love. His engaging me in this duel has started cautious fool to sigh for.
SCENE I.-JULIA's dressing-room. more than ever, prize the solemn engagement
which so long has pledged us to each other, it is
because it leaves no room for hard aspersions on Julia. How this message has alarmed me! my fame, and puts the seal 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 ?-0 Faulkland! how many lay, unhappy 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 increase 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 reliere 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 happy 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, I you: 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 resiless, 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 bappened, 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 hand, 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 tv-morFaulk. O 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 years of tender adoration. hours to weigh the advantages you forego, and Julia. Ilold, 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. Í 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