Jul. Oh, you torture me to the heart! I cannot bear it!

Faulk. 'Twas but your fancy, Julia. I was rejoiced to see you to see you in such health: Sure I had no cause for coldness?

Jul. Nay, then, I see you have taken something ill: You must not conceal from me what it is. Faulk. Well, then, shall I own to you, that my joy at hearing of your health and arrival here, by your neighbour Acres, was somewhat damped, by his dwelling much on the high spirits you had enjoyed in Devonshire; on your mirth-your singing-dancing-and I know not what! For such is my temper, Julia, that I should regard every mirthful moment, in your absence, as a treason to constancy. The mutual tear, that steals down the cheek of parting lovers, is a compact, that no smile shall live there till they meet again.

Jul. Must I never cease to tax my Faulkland with this teazing, minute caprice? Can the idle reports of a silly boor weigh, in your breast, against my tried affection?

Faulk. They have no weight with me, Julia: No, no, I am happy, if you have been so yet only say that you did not sing with mirth,-say that you thought of Faulkland in the dance.

Jul. I never can be happy in your absence. If I wear a countenance of content, it is to show that my mind holds no doubt of my Faulkland's truth. Believe me, Faulkland, I mean not to upbraid you when I say, that I have often dressed sorrow in smiles, lest my friends should guess whose unkindness had caused my tears.

Faulk. You were ever all goodness to me! Oh, I am a brute, when I but admit a doubt of your true constancy!

Jul. If ever, without such cause from you as I will not suppose possible, you find my affections veering but a point, may I become a proverbial scoff for levity and base ingratitude! Faulk. Ah, Julia! that last word is grating to me! I would I had no title to your gratitude! Search your heart, Julia: perhaps what you have mistaken for love, is but the warm effusion of a too thankful heart!

Jul. For what quality must I love you? Faulk. For no quality: To regard me for any quality of mind or understanding were only to esteem me! And for person-I have often wished myself deformed, to be convinced that I owed no obligation there for any part of your affection.

Jul. Where nature has bestowed a show of nice attention in the features of a man, he should laugh at it as misplaced. I have seen men, who in this vain article, perhaps, might rank above you; but my heart has never asked my eyes if it were so or not.

Faulk. Now, this is not well from you, Julia: I despise person in a man, yet, if you loved me as I wish, though I were an Ethiop, you'd

think none so fair.

Jul. I see you are determined to be unkind -The contract, which my poor father bound us in, gives you more than a lover's privilege. Faulk. Again, Julia, you raise ideas that feed and justify my doubts. How shall I be sure, had you remained unbound in thought or promise, that I should still have been the object of your persevering love.

Jul. Then try me now-Let us be free as strangers, as to what is past: My heart will not feel more liberty.

Faulk. There, now! so hasty, Julia! so anxious to be free! If your love for me were fixed and ardent, you would not loose your hold, even though I wished it!

Faulk. I do not mean to distress you: If I loved you less, I should never give you any uneasy moment. I would not boast, yet let me say, that I have neither age, person, or character, to found dislike on; my fortune such, as few ladies could be charged with indiscretion in the match. O, Julia! when love receives such countenance from prudence, nice minds will be suspicious of its birth.

Jul. I know not whither your insinuations would tend; but, as they seem pressing to insult me, I will spare you the regret of having done so I have given you no cause for this! [Exit in tears.

Faulk. In tears? stay, Julia-stay but for a moment-The door is fastened!-Julia, my soul! but for one moment!-I hear her sobbing! 'Sdeath! what a brute am I to use her thus! -Yet stay-Ay, she is coming now: how little resolution there is in woman! how a few soft words can turn them!-No, zounds! she's not coming, nor don't intend it, I suppose! This is not steadiness, but obstinacy! Yet I deserve it. What, after so long an absence, to quarrel with her tenderness! 'twas barbarous and unmanly!--I should be ashamed to see her now.-I'll wait till her just resentment is abated, and when I distress her so again, may I lose her for ever! [Exit.

SCENE III.-MRS. MALAPROP's Lodgings. MRS. MALAPROP, with a letter in her hand, and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.

Mrs. M. 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.

Capt. A. 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. M. Sir, you do me infinite honour! I beg, captain, you'll be seated. [Sits.] Ah! few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value the ineffectul 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!

Capt. A. It is but too true, indeed, Ma'am; yet I fear our ladies should share the blame; they think our admiration of beauty so great, that knowledge, in them, would be superfluous. Thus, like garden trees, they seldom show fruit, till time has robbed them of the more specious blossom: few, like Mrs. Malaprop, and the orange-tree, are rich in both at once!

Mrs. M. Sir, you overpower me with good breeding.-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, eves-dropping ensign, whom none of us have seen, and nobody knows any thing of.

Capt. A. Oh, I have heard the silly affair before. I'm not at all prejudiced against her on that account, but it must be very distressing, indeed, Ma'am.

Mrs. M. Oh, it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree!—I thought she had persisted

Mrs. M. Nay, but read it, captain. Capt. A. [Reads.] My soul's idol, my adored Lydia!-Very tender, indeed!

Mrs. M. Tender! ay, and profane too, o'my conscience!

Capt. A. I am excessively alarmed at the intelligence you send me, the more so as my new rival

Mrs. M. That's you, Sir.

Capt. A. Has universally the character of being an accomplished gentleman, and a man of honour.-Well, that's handsome enough.

- Mrs. M. Oh, the fellow has some design in writing so.

Capt. A. That he had, I'll answer for him, Ma'am.

Mrs. M. But go on, Sir-you'll see presently.

Capt. A. As for the old weather-beaten shedragon, who guards you-Who can he mean by that?

Mrs. M. Me, Sir-me-he means me there what do you think now ?-but go on a little further.

Capt. 4. 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 course features, and deck her dull chat with hard words which she don't understand

Mrs. M. 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 nice derangement of epitaphs. Capt. A. He deserves to be hanged and quartered! let me see-same ridiculous vanity

Capt. A. Gently, good tongue!

[Aside.

Mrs. M. What did you say of Beverley? Capt. A. Oh, 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!

Mrs. M. "Twould be a trick she well deserves besides, you know the fellow tells her he'll get my consent to see her-ha, ha!— Let him, if he can, I say again. Lydia, come down here! [Calling.] He'll make me a gobetween 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.

Capt. A. 'Tis very ridiculous, upon my soul, Ma'am!-ha, ha, ha!

Mrs. M. The little hussy wont hear.-Well, I'll go and tell her at once how it is-she shall know that Captain Absolute is come to wait on her. And I'll make her behave as becomes a young woman.

Capt. 4. As you please, Ma'am.

Mrs. M. For the present, captain, your servant-Ah, you've not done laughing yet, I see -elude my vigilance! yes, yes-Ha, ha, ha! [Exit.

Capt. A. 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 at the pictures.

Enter LYDIA.

Mrs. M. 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!

Capt. A. So we will, Ma'am 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. M. I am delighted with the scheme; never was any thing better perpetrated.

[Turns round.

Lyd. I am so astonished! and so terrified! and so overjoyed!-for heaven's sake, how came you here?

Capt. A. Briefly-I have deceived your aunt I 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.

Lyd. Oh, charming!-And she really takes you for young Absolute?

Capt. A. Oh, she's convinced of it.

Lyd. Ha, ha, ha! I can't forbear laughing, to think how her sagacity is over-reached, Capt. A. But we trifle with our precious

Y y

a crisis.

amiably patient: but come with me, Miss; let us see you again soon, captain; remember what we have fixed.

Capt. A. I shall, Ma'am.

Mrs. M. Come, take a graceful leave of the gentleman.

Lyd. May every blessing wait on my Beverley, my loved Bev

Mrs. M. Hussy! Come along-come along. [Exeunt severally; CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE kissing his hand to LYDIA, MRS. MALAPROP stops her speaking.

SCENE IV.-ACRES' Lodgings. ACRES and DAVID discovered; ACRES as just

dressed.

Acres. Indeed, David,-dress does make a difference, David.

Enter MRS. MALAPROP, listening. Mrs. M. I am impatient to know how the little hussy deports herself. [Aside. Capt. A. So pensive, Lydia! is then your warmth abated?

Mrs. M. Warmth abated?-so! she has been in a passion, I suppose.

Lyd. No-nor ever can, while I have life. Mrs. M. An ill-tempered little devil! She'll be in a passion all her life, will she?

Lyd. Let her choice be Captain Absolute, but Beverley is mine.

Mrs. M. I am astonished at her assurance! -to his face; this to his face!

Capt. A. Thus, then, let me enforce my suit. [Kneeling. Mrs. M. Ay-poor young man! down on his knees, entreating for pity! I can contain no longer. Why, thou vixen! I have overheard you.

Capt. A. Oh, confound her vigilance! [Aside. Mrs. M. Captain Absolute; I know not how to apologise for her shocking rudeness. Capt. A. So; all's safe, I find. [Aside.] I have hopes, Madam, that time will bring the young lady

Mrs. M. O, there's nothing to be hoped for from her! she's as headstrong as an allegory

on the banks of Nile.

Lyd. Nay, Madam, what do you charge me with now?

Mrs. M. Why, thou unblushing rebel, didn't you tell this gentleman to his face, that you loved another better? didn't you say you never

I would be his?

Lyd. No, Madam, I did not.

Mrs. M. Good heavens, what assurance! Lydia, Lydia, you ought to know that lying don't become a young woman! Didn't you boast that Beverley, that stroller, Beverley, possessed your heart? Tell me that, I say.

Lyd. "Tis true, Ma'am; and none but Beverley

Mrs. M. Hold! hold, assurance! you shall not be so rude.

Capt. A. Nay, 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.

Mrs. M. You are too good, captain-too

tail.

Acres. Ay, David, there's nothing like pol. ishing.

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 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, coupée. Confound the first inventors of cotillions, say I! they are as bad as 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 country dance. Odds jigs and tabors! I never valued your cross-over two couple-figure in-right and left-and I'd foot it with e'er a captain in the country! but these outlandish heathen allemandes and cotillions are quite beyond me! I shall never prosper at them, that's sure, mine are true born English legs; they don't understand their cursed French lingo! their pas this, and pas that, and

pas t'other?

last! In short, I have been very ill-used, Sir Lucius. I don't choose to mention names, but look on me as a very ill-used gentleman. Sir L. 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 L. 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 L. 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 L. Then sure you know what is to be done!

Acres. Not I, upon my soul!

359

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, indíte! How shall I begin? Odd's bullets and blades! I'll write a good bold hand, however.

Sir L. Pray, compose yourself.

Acres. Come-now, shall I begin with an oath? Do, Sir Lucius, let me begin with a damme.

Sir L. Pho, pho! do the thing decently, and like a Christian. Begin now-Sir. Acres. That's too civil by half.

Sir L. To prevent the confusion that might arise—

Acres. Well.

Sir L. From our both addressing the same lady

Acres. Ay-there's the reason—same lady— Well.

Sir L. I shall expect the favour of your company,

Acres. Zounds! I'm not asking him to din

Acres. What! fight him?

Sir L. Ay, to be sure: what can I mean else?

Acres. But he has given me no provocation. Sir L. 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? Oh, by my soul, it is the most unpardonable breach of friendship.

Acres. Breach of friendship? Ay, ay; but I have no acquaintance with this man. I never saw him in my life.

Sir L. 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 on my side?

Sir L. What the devil signifies right, when your honour is concerned? do you think Achilles, or my little Alexander the Great, ever inquired where the right lay? No, by my soul, they drew their broad swords, and left the lazy sons of 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 arising as it were-a kind of courage, as I may say-odds flints, pans, and triggers! I'll challenge him directly.

Sir L. 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 mansionhouse and dirty acres have slipped through my fingers, I thank Heaven, our honour and the family pictures are as fresh as ever.

Acres. Oh, Sir Lucius, I have had ancestors too! every man of them colonel or captain in the militia. odd's 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 L. Come, come, there must be no passion at all in the case; these things should always be done civilly.

Sir L. Pray, be easy.

Acres. Well, then, honour of your company,—
Sir L. To settle our pretensions,—
Acres. Well.

Sir L. Let me see; ay, King's-Mead-fields will do; in King's-Mead-fields.

Acres. So, that's done. Well, I'll fold it up presently; my own crest, a hand and dagger, shall be the seal.

Sir L. You see now, this little explanation will put a stop at once to all confusion or misunderstanding that might arise between you.

Acres. Ay, we fight to prevent any misunderstanding.

Sir L. 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 L. So I shall see nothing more of you, unless it be by letter, till the evening. would do myself the honour to carry your message; but, to tell you a secret, I believe I shall have just such another affair on my own hands. There is a gay captain here who put a jest on me lately at the expense of my country, and I only want to fall in with the gentleman, to call him out.

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 L. 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.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-ACRES' Lodgings.

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. But my honour, David, my honour! I must be very careful of my honour.