THE RIVALS: A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY R. B. SHERIDAN, Esq. REMARKS. THIS was the earliest theatrical production of Mr. Sheridan, and was first brought on the stage at Covent Garden in the year 1775, when it was disliked by the audience, and of course laid aside. On subsequent revival, at Covent Garden and at Drury Lane, the public were highly delighted with it; and it is still looked upon as an excellent specimen of pure and just Comedy, which the judges of theatrical composition had so long deplored the want of. Comedy proposes for its object the exposure of the follies and slighter vices of mankind, so as to raise in the beholders a sense of their impropriety, and to expose them to censure and laughter: it endeavours to "Catch the manners living as they rise;" and, in the Rivals, its judicious author has given pictures taken from among ourselves: he has satirized the reigning vices; and exhibited to the age a faithful copy of itself, with its humours, its follies, its manners, and its extravagancies. ACT I. SCENE 1.-A Street at Bath. vilish glad to see you, my lad! why, my prince of charioteers, you look as hearty!-but who the deuce thought of seeing you in Bath? Coach. Sure, master, Madam Julia, Harry, COACHMAN crosses the Stage.-Enter FAG, look- Mrs. Kate, and the postillion, be all come. ing after him. Fag. What, Thomas! Sure, 'tis he!What, Thomas, Thomas! Coach. Hey! odd's life! Mr. Fag; give us your hand, my old fellow-servant! Fag. Excuse my glove, Thomas; I'm de Fag. Indeed! Coach. Ay: master thought another fit of the gout was coming to make him a visit, so he'd a mind to gi't the slip,-and whip! we were all off at an hour's warning. Fag. Ay, ay; hasty in every thing, or it would not be Sir Anthony Absolute. Coach. But tell us, Mr. Fag, how does young master? Odd, Sir Anthony will stare, to see the captain here! Fag. I do not serve Captain Absolute now. Coach. Why, sure! Fag. At present, I am employed by Ensign Beverley. Coach. I doubt, Mr. Fag, you ha'n't changed for the better. Fag. I have not changed, Thomas. Coach. No! why, didn't you say, you had left young master? Fag. No. Well, honest Thomas, I must puzzle you no further;-briefly then-Captain Absolute and Ensign Beverley are one and the same person. Coach. The devil they are: do tell us, Mr. Fag, the meaning on't. Pag. You'll be secret, Thomas? Coach. As a coach horse. Fag. Why, then the cause of all this is love, -love, Thomas, who has been a masquerader ever since the days of Jupiter. Coach. But, pray, why does your master pass only for ensign?-now, if he had shammed general, indeed Fag. Ah, Thomas! there lies the mystery o'the matter!--Harkye, Thomas, my master is in love with a lady of a very singular taste-a lady, who likes him better as a half-pay ensign, than if she knew he was son and heir to Sir Anthony Absolute, a baronet of three thousand a year. Coach. That is an odd taste, indeed! but has she got the stuff, Mr. Fag? is she rich, eh? Fag. Rich! why, I believe she owns half the stocks! Zounds, Thomas, she could pay the national debt, as easily as I could my washerwoman! She has a lap-dog that eats out of gold-she feeds her parrot with small pearls, and all her thread papers are made of bank notes! Coach. Bravo, faith!-Odd! I warrant she has a set of thousands, at least; but does she draw kindly with the captain? Fag. As fond as pigeons. Coach. May one hear her name? Fag. Miss Lydia Languish :-But there is an old tough aunt in the way-though, by the bye, she has never seen my master-for he got acquainted with Miss, while on a visit in Gloucestershire. Coach. Well, I wish they were once harnessed together in matrimony. But, pray, Mr. Fag, what kind of a place is this Bath? I ha' heard a great deal of it;—here's a mort o' merry making, eh? Fag. Pretty well, Thomas, pretty well-'tis a good lounge-but, damn the place, I'm tired of it; their regular hours stupify me-not a fiddle or a card, after eleven! however, Mr. Faulkland's gentleman and I keep it up a little, in private parties;-I'll introduce you there, Thomas, you'll like him much.-But, Thomas, you must polish a little-indeed, you must: Here, now, this wig! what, the devil, do you do with a wig, Thomas? none of the London whips, of any degree of ton, wear wigs now. Coach. More's the pity, more's the pity, I say-Odds life! when I heard how the lawyers and doctors had took to their own hair, I thought how 'twould go next. Odd rabbit it! when the fashion had got foot on the bar, I guessed 'twould mount to the box! but 'tis all out of character, believe me, Mr. Fag: and lookye, I'll never give up mine, the lawyers and doctors may do as they will. Fag. Well, Thomas, we'll not quarrel about that. But hold, mark-mark, Thomas. Coach. Zooks, 'tis the captain! Is that the lady with him? Fag. No, no, that is Madam Lucy, my master's mistress' maid; they lodge at that house -but I must after him, to tell him the news. Coach. Odd, he's giving her money!—Well, Mr. Fag Fag. Good bye, Thomas; I have an appointment in Gyde's porch, this evening, at eight; meet me there, and we'll make a little party. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II-A Dressing-Room in MRS. MALAPROP'S Lodgings. LYDIA LANGUISH sitting on a Sofa, with a book in her hand; LUCY, as just returned from a message. Lucy. Indeed, Ma'am, I traversed half the town in search of it: I don't believe there's a circulating library in Bath I haʼn't been at. Lyd. And could not you get "The Reward of Constancy?" Lucy. No, indeed, Ma'am. Lyd. Nor "The Fatal Connexion?" Lyd. Nor" The Mistakes of the Heart?" Bull said, Miss Sukey Saunter had just fetched Lucy. Ma'am, as ill luck would have it, Mr. it away. Delicate Distress?" Lucy. Or, "The Memoirs of Lady Woodford?" Yes, indeed, Ma'am, I asked every where for it; and I might have brought it from who had just sent it home, had so soiled and Mr. Frederick's, but lady Slattern Lounger, dog's-eared it, it wa'n't fit for a Christian to read. Lyd. Heigho! Yes, I always know when lady Slattern has been before me: She has a most observing thumb, and, I believe, cherishes her nails for the convenience of making marginal notes. Well, child, what have you brought me? Lucy. Oh, here, Ma'am ! [Taking books from under her cloak, and from her pockets.] This is "The Man of Feeling," and this, "Peregrine Pickle."-Here are The Tears of Sensibility," and "Humphrey Clinker." Lyd. Hold! here's some one coming—quick, see who it is-[Exit Lucy.]-Surely, 1 heard my cousin Julia's voice! Enter LUCY. Lucy. Lud, Ma'am! here is Miss Melville ! Lyd. Is it possible! Enter JULIA, Lyd. My dearest Julia, how delighted am I: [Embrace.] How unexpected was this happiness! Jul. True, Lydia, and our pleasure is the greater; but what has been the matter? you were denied to me at first. Lyd. Ah, Julia, I have a thousand things to tell you! but first inform me what has conjured you to Bath ?-Is Sir Anthony here? Jul. He is; we are arrived within this hour, and I suppose he will be here to wait on Mrs. Malaprop as soon as he is dressed. Lyd. Then, before we are interrupted, let me impart to you some of my distress; I know your gentle nature will sympathize with me, though your prudence may condemn me: My Lyd. No, upon my word :-She really carries on a kind of correspondence with him, under a feigned name though, till she chooses to be known to him ;-but it is a Delia, or a Celia, I assure you. Jul. Then, surely, she is now more indulgent to her niece? Lyd. Quite the contrary: since she has discovered her own frailty, she is become more suspicious of mine-Then I must inform you of another plague; that odious Acres is to be in Bath to day, so that I protest, I shall be teazed out of all spirits! Jul. Nay, you are wrong entirely :-We were contracted before my father's death: That, and some consequent embarrassments, have delayed what I know to be my Faulkland's most ardent wish.-He is too generous to trifle on such a point ;-and, for his character, you wrong him there too. No, Lydia, he is too proud, too noble to be jealous; if he is captious, 'tis without dissembling; if fretful, without rudeness. Unused to the fopperies of love, he is negligent of the little duties expected from a lover. This temper, I must own, has cost me many unhappy hours; but I have learned to think myself his debtor for those imperfections which arise from the ardour of his attachment. Lyd. Well, I cannot blame you for defending him; but, tell me candidly, Julia-had be never saved your life, do you think you should have been attached to him as you are? Believe me, the rude blast that overset your boat was a prosperous gale of love to him. Jul. Gratitude may have strengthened my :-attachment to Mr. Faulkland, but I loved him before he had preserved me; yet, surely, that alone were an obligation sufficient- Jul. Come, come, Lydia, hope for the best :Sir Anthony shall use his interest with Mrs. Malaprop. Lyd. But you have not heard the worst:Unfortunately I had quarrelled with my poor Beverley, just before my aunt made the discovery, and I have not seen him since to make it up. Jul. What was his offence? Lyd. Nothing at all; but I don't know how it was, as often as we had been together, we had never had a quarrel; and, somehow, I was afraid he would never give me an opportunity; so, last Thursday, I wrote a letter to myself, to inform myself that Beverley was, at that time, paying his addresses to another woman.-I signed it, Your friend unknown,' showed it to Beverley, charged him with his falsehood, put myself in a violent passion, and vowed I'd 6 never see him more. Jul. And you let him depart so, and have not seen him since? Lyd. 'Twas the next day my aunt found the matter out; I intended only to have teazed him three days and a half, and now I've lost him for ever. Jul. If he is as deserving and sincere as you have represented him to me, he will never give you up so. Yet consider, Lydia, you tell me he is but an ensign-and you have thirty thousand pounds! Lyd. But, you know, I lose most of my fortune, if I marry, without my aunt's consent, till of age; and that is what I have determined to do ever since I knew the penalty; nor could I love the man who would wish to wait a day for the alternative. Jul. Nay, this is caprice! Lyd. What, does Julia tax me with caprice? I thought her lover Faulkland had inured her to it. Jul. I do not love even his faults. Lyd. But à-propos! you have sent to him, I suppose? Jul. Not yet, upon my word! nor has he the least idea of my being in Bath :-Sir Anthony's resolution was so sudden I could not inform him of it. Lyd. Well, Julia, you are your own mistress, though under the protection of Sir Anthony; yet have you, for this long year, been a slave to the caprice, the whim, the jealousy, of this ungrateful Faulkland, who will ever delay assuming the right of a husband, while you suffer him to be equally imperious as a lover. Lyd. Obligation! why, a water spaniel would have done as much! Well, I should never think of giving my heart to a man because he could swim!-What's here? Enter LUCY, in a hurry. Lucy. O, Ma'am, here is Sir Anthony Absolute, just come home with your aunt! Lyd. They'll not come here :-Lucy, do you watch. [Exit LUCY. Jul. Yet I must go; Sir Anthony does not know I am here, and if we meet, he'll detain me, to show me the town. I'll take another opportunity of paying my respects to Mrs. Malaprop, when she shall treat me, as long as she chooses, with her select words, so ingeniously misapplied, without being mispronounced. [Exit JULIA. Lyd. Here, my dear Lucy, hide these books. -Quick, quick.-Fling "Peregrine Pickle" under the toilet-throw" Roderick Random" into the closet-put " The Innocent Adultery" into "The Whole Duty of Man"-thrust" Lord Aimworth" under the sofa-cram" Ovid” be- Enter MRS. MALAPROP and SIR ANTHONY Mrs. M. There, Sir Anthony, there sits the deliberate simpleton, who wants to disgrace her family, and lavish herself on a fellow not worth a shilling. Lyd. Madam, I thought you once Mrs. M. You thought, Miss! I don't know any business you have to think at all: thought does not become a young woman. But the point we would request of you is, that you will promise to forget this fellow-to illiterate him, I say, from your memory. Lyd. Ah, Madam! our memories are independent of our wills. It is not so easy to forget. Mrs. M. But, I say, it is, Miss! there is nothing on earth so easy as to forget, if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I have as much forgot your poor dear uncle, as if he had never existed; and I thought it my duty to do so; and let me tell you, Lydia, these violent memories don't become a young woman. Sir A. Why, sure, she wont pretend to remember what she's ordered not! ay, this comes of her reading! Lyd. What crime, Madam, have I committed, to be treated thus? Mrs. M. Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I have proof controvertible of it but, tell me, will you promise to do as you're bid? will you take a husband of your friends' choosing? counts; and, as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might know something of the contagious countries. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know; and I don't think there is a su perstitious article in it. Sir A. Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with you; though I must confess, that you are a truly moderate and polite arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side of the question.-But, Mrs. Malaprop, to the more important point in debate,—you say you have no objection to my proposal? Mrs. M. None, I assure you.-I am under no positive engagement with Mr. Acres; and as Lydia is so obstinate against him, perhaps your son may have better success. Sir A. Well, Madam, I will write for the boy directly. He knows not a syllable of this yet, though I have for some time had the proposal in my head. He is at present with his regiment. Lyd. Madam, I must tell you plainly, that, had I no preference for any one else, the choice you have made would be my aversion. Mrs. M. What business have you, Miss, with preference and aversion? they don't become a young woman; and you ought to know, that, as both always wear off, 'tis safest, in matri- Mrs. M. We have never seen your son, Sir mony, to begin with a little aversion. I am Anthony; but I hope no objection on his side. sure I hated your poor, dear uncle, before Sir A. Objection!-let him object if he dare! marriage, as if he'd been a black-a-moor; and-No, no, Mrs. Malaprop: Jack knows, that yet, Miss, you are sensible what a wife I made? and when it pleased Heaven to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears I shed! But, suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you promise us to give up this Beverley? the least demur puts me in a phrenzy directly. My process was always very simple-in their younger days, 'twas, “Jack do this,"-if he demurred, I knocked him down; and if he grumbled at that, I always sent him out of the room. Lyd, Could I belie my thoughts so far as to Mrs. M. Ay, and the properest way, o'my give that promise, my actions would certainly conscience!-Nothing is so conciliating to as far belie my words. Mrs. M. Take yourself to your room; you are fit company for nothing but your own ill humours. Lyd. Willingly, Ma'am; I cannot change for the worse. [Exit. Mrs. M. There's a little intricate hussy for you! Sir A. It is not to be wondered at, Ma'am; all this is the natural consequence of teaching girls to read. In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece's maid coming forth from a circulating library; she had a book in each hand-they were half-bound volumes, with marble covers; from that moment, I guessed how full of duty I should see Ifer mistress! Mrs. M. Those are vile places, indeed! Sir A. Madam, a, circulating library in a town is, as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge?-It blossoms through the year! and depend on it, Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves will long for the fruit at last. Mrs. M. Fię, fie, Sir Anthony! you surely speak laconically. young people as severity.-Well, Sir Anthony, I shall give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your son's invocations; and I hope you will represent her to the captain as an object not altogether illegible. Sir A. Madam, I will handle the subject prudently. Well, I must leave you; and let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this matter roundly to the girl-take my advice, keep a tight hand-if she rejects this proposal, clap her under lock and key; and if you were just to let the servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four days, you can't conceive how she'd come about. [Exit SIR ANTHONY. Mrs. M. Well, at any rate, I shall be glad to get her from under my intuition. She has somehow discovered my partiality for Sir Lucius O'Trigger. Sure, Lucy can't have betrayed me-No, the girl is such a simpleton, I should have made her confess it.-Lucy Lucy! [Calls.] Had she been one of your artificial ones, I should never have trusted her. Enter LUCY. Lucy. Did you call, Ma'am? Mrs. M. Yes, girl. Did you see Sir Lucius while you was out? Lucy. No indeed, Ma'am, not a glimpse of him. Mrs. M. You are sure, Lucy, that you never mentioned Lucy. O gemini! I'd sooner cut my tongue out! Sir A. Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation, now, what would you have a woman know? Mrs. M. Observe me, Sir Anthony-I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much learning becomes a young woman;--for instance-I would never let her meddle with Greek, or Hebrew, or Algebra, or Simony, or Fluxions, or Paradoxes, or such inflammatory branches of learning: nor would it be neces-imposed on. sary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instruments; but, Sir, Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice. Then, Sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in ac Mrs. M. Well, don't let your simplicity be Lucy. No, Ma'am. Mrs. M. So, come to me presently, and I'll give you another letter to Sir Lucius-but mind, Lucy, if ever you betray what you are intrusted with (unless it be other people's secrets to me,) you forfeit my malevolence for ever and your being a simpleton shall be no Fag. I beg pardon, Sir-I beg pardon-But, excuse for your locality. with submission, a lie is nothing unless one supports it.--Sir, whenever I draw on my invention for a good current lie, I always forge indorsements as well as the bill. [Exit. Lucy. Ha, ha, ha! So, my dear simplicity, let me give you a little respite; [Altering her manner.] let girls, in my station, be as fond as they please of being expert and knowing in their trusts, commend me to a mask of silliness, and a pair of sharp eyes for my own interest under it!-Let me see to what account have I turned my simplicity lately; [Looks at a paper.] For abetting Miss Lydia Languish in a design of running away with an ensign! in money, sundry times, twelve pound twelvegowns, five; hats, ruffles, caps, &c. &c. numberless. From the said ensign, within this last month, six guineas and a half.-About a quarter's pay-Item, from Mrs. Malaprop, for betraying the young people to her-when I found matters were likely to be discovered,-two guineas and a black padunsoy.-Item, from Mr. Acres, for carrying divers letters—which I never delivered-two guineas and a pair of buckles.Item, from Sir Lucius O'Trigger, three crowns, two gold pocket-pieces, and a silver snuff-box!Well done, simplicity! yet I was forced to make my Hibernian believe, that he was corresponding, not with the aunt, but with the niece; for, though not over rich, I found he had too much pride and delicacy to sacrifice the feelings of a gentleman to the necessities of his fortune. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I-CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE's Lodgings. CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE and FAG. Fag. Sir, while I was there, Sir Anthony came in; I told him you had sent me to inquire Capt. A. Well, take care you don't hurt your credit by offering too much security. Is Mr. Faulkland returned? Fag. He is above, Sir, changing his dress. Capt. A. Can you tell whether he has been informed of Sir Anthony's and Miss Melville's arrival? Fag. I fancy not, Sir; he has seen no one since he came in, but his gentleman, who was with him at Bristol.-I think, Sir, I hear Mr. Faulkland coming down Capt. A. Go, tell him I am here. Fag. Yes, Sir-[Going.] I beg pardon, Sir, but should Sir Anthony call, you will do me the favour to remember that we are recruiting, if you please. Capt. A. Well, well. Fag. And in tenderness to my character, if your honour could bring in the chairmen and waiters, I shall esteem it as an obligation ;— for, though I never scruple a lie to serve my master, yet it hurts one's conscience to be found out. [Exit. Capt. A. Now for my whimsical friend :—If he does not know that his mistress is here, I'll tease him a little before I tell himEnter FAG. Fag. Mr. Faulkland, Sir. Enter FAULKLAND. [Exit. Capt. A. Faulkland, you're welcome to Bath after his health, and to know if he was at lei-again: you are punctual in your return. sure to see you. Capt. A. And what did he say, on hearing I was at Bath? Fag. Sir, in my life, I never saw an elderly gentleman more astonished! Capt. A. Well, Sir, and what did you say? Fag. O, I lied, Sir-I forget the precise lie, but, you may depend on't, he got no truth from me. Yet, with submission, for fear of blunders in future, I should be glad to fix what has brought us to Bath, in order that we may lie a little consistently.-Sir Anthony's servants were curious, Sir, very curious indeed. Capt. A. You have said nothing to them?— Fag. Oh, not a word, Sir, not a word; Mr. Thomas, indeed, the coachman (whom I take to be the discreetest of whips) Capt. A. 'Sdeath!--you rascal! you have not trusted him? Fag. Oh, no, Sir-no-no-not a syllable, upon my veracity !-He was, indeed, a little inquisitive; but I was sly, Sir-devilish sly! -My master (said I) honest Thomas (you know, Sir, one says honest to one's inferiors) is come to Bath to recruit-yes, Sir-I said to recruit and whether for men, money, or constitution, you know, Sir, is nothing to him, nor any one else. Capt. A. Well-recruit will do-let it be Faulk. Yes; I had nothing to detain me, when I had finished the business I went on. Well, what news since I left you? how stand matters between you and Lydia? Capt. A. 'Faith, much as they were. Faulk. Nay, then you trifle too long-if you are sure of her, propose to the aunt, in your own character, and write to Sir Anthony for his consent. Capt. A. Softly, softly, for though I am convinced my little Lydia would elope with me as Ensign Beverley, yet am I by no means certain that she would take me with the impediment of our friends' consent, a regular humdrum wedding, and the reversion of a good fortune on my side.-Well, but Faulkland, you'll dine with us to-day at the hotel? Faulk. Indeed, I cannot; I am not in spirits to be of such a party. Capt. A. By heavens! I shall forswear your company. You are the most teasing, captious, incorrigible lover!-Do love like a man. Faulk. Ah! Jack, your heart and soul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on one only object.-You throw for a large stake, but losing, you could stake and throw again; but I have set my sum of happiness on this cast, and not to succeed were to be stripped of all. Capt.A. But, for heaven's sake,what grounds for apprehension can your whimsical brain conjure up at present? Faulk. What grounds for apprehension, did you say? Heavens! are there not a thousand? I fear for her spirits-her health-her lifeO! Jack, when delicate and feeling souls are separated, there is not a feature in the sky, not a movement in the elements, not an |