356 [ACT IIL not bear it! Jul. Oh, you torture me to the heart! I can. 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 mu-sult me, tual 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, 1 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! fixed and ardent, you would not loose your If your love for me were hold, even though I wished it! loved you less, I should never give you any Faulk. I do not mean to distress you: If I 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. would tend; but, as they seem pressing to inJul. I know not whither your insinuations done so I have given you no cause for this! I will spare you the regret of having [Exit tears. moment-The door is fastened!-Julia, my MRS. MALA PROP, with a letter in her hand, and tain, would itself be a sufficient accommoda- I never yet have had the pleasure of seeing Capt. A. Permit me to say, Madam, that, as Miss Languish, my principal inducement in this affair, at present, is the honour of being accomplishments, elegant manners, and unallied to Mrs. Malaprop, of whose intellectual affected learning, no tongue is silent. beg, captain, you'll be seated. [Sits.] Ah! Mrs. M. Sir, you do me infinite honour! I few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to think how a little knowledge becomes a genvalue the ineffectul qualities in a woman! few tlewoman! Men have no sense now but for the worthless flower of beauty! yet I fear our ladies should share the blame; breeding. He is the very pine-apple of polite- Capt. A. Oh, I have heard the silly affair Mrs. M. Oh, it gives me the hydrostatics to 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. Capt. A. Oh, the devil! my last note! [Aside. Mrs. M. Ay, here it is. Capt. A. Ay, my note, indeed! O, the little traitress, Lucy! [Aside. Mrs. M. There, perhaps you may know the writing. [Gives him the letter. Capt. A. I think I have seen the hand before-yes, I certainly must have seen this hand before. 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 intel igence 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. A. 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 Mrs. M. You need not read it again, Sir! Capt. A. I beg pardon, Ma'am-does also lay 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 interviews.-Was ever such assurance! 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. 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, haCome 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. A. 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. Lyd. 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 itthere stands the hated rival-an officer too!but, oh, 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! Capt. A. Ma'am. [Turns round. Lyd. O heavens! Beverley! Capt. A. Hush!-hush, my life!-softly! be not surprised! 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 trife with our precious Y y moments-such another opportunity may not | occur; then 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 reward. Lyd. Will you then, Beverley, consent to forfeit that portion of my paltry wealth?-that burden on the wings of love? Capt. A. Oh, 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. Lyd. How persuasive are his words! how charming will poverty be with him! [ACT III. 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 ley, my loved Bev- Mrs. M. Hussy! Come along-come along. ACRES and DAVID discovered; ACRES as just dressed. difference, David. Capt. A. 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. David. 'Tis all in all, I think-difference! why, an' you were to go now to Clod Hall, I Lyd. Now could [Embracing her. am certain the old lady wouldn't know you: fly with him to the Anti-Master Butler wouldn't believe his own eyes, podes but my persecution is not yet come to and Mrs. Pickle would cry, a crisis. "Lard presarve me!" our dairy maid would come giggling to the door; and I warrant Dolly Tester, your honour's favourite, would blush like my waistcoat: Oons! I'll hold a gallon, there_an't a tion whether Phillis would wag a hair of her dog in the house but would bark, and I ques Enter MRS. MALAPROP, listening. Mrs. M. I am impatient to know how the little hussy deports herself. Capt. A. So pensive, Lydia! is then your [Aside. 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. Mrs. M. Ay-poor young man! down on his [Kneeling. knees, entreating for pity! I can contain no longer. Why, thou vixen! I have overheard you. Capt. A. Oh, confound her vigilance! Mrs. M. Captain Absolute; I know not [Aside. 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 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- but the boy never heeds me! been here? I must rub up my balancing, and David. I'll call again, Sir. Acres. Do, and see if there are any letters looking at your head! if I hadn't been at the [Exit. ACRES comes forward, practising a first inventors of cotillions, say I! they are as 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. never could have done it fairly. He 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, indite! 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 Sir L. We wear no swords here, but you ner? understand me? Acres. What! fight him? Sir L. Ay, to be sure: what can I mean else ? Sir L. Pray, be easy. Acres. Well, then, honour of your company,— 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. 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 unpar-will put a stop at once to all confusion or Sir L. You see now, this little explanation Acres. Breach of friendship? Ay, ay; but I misunderstanding that might arise between have no acquaintance with this man. I never saw him in my life. donable breach of friendship. 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. 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. I 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. David. Ay, by the mass! and I would be very careful of it, and 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, would be but civil in honour never to risk the loss of a gentleman. Lookye, master, this honour seems to me to be a marvellous false friend; ay, truly, a very courtier-like servant. Put the case, I was a gentleman (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. [ACT IV. Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. hadn't the valour of St. George, and the Acres. A vile, sheep-hearted blockhead! If dragon to boot Cupt. A. What's the matter, Bob? Capt. A. But what did you want with me, Bob? Acres. Oh!-there [Gives him the challenge. Capt. A. To Ensign Beverley. So-what's going on now? [Aside.] Well, what's this? Acres. A challenge! Capt. A. Indeed! why, you wont fight him, will you, Bob? has wrought me to it. He has left me full of Acres. 'Egad, but I will, Jack. Sir Lucius rage, and I'll fight this evening, that so much good passion mayn't be wasted. Acres. Zounds! David, you are a coward! It doesn't become iny valour to listen to you. -What, shall I disgrace my ancestors? think of that, David; think what it would be to dis-me, and give him this mortal defiance, grace my ancestors! of this fellow, I want you to find him out for Capt. A. But what have I to do with this? Acres. Why, as I think you know something David. Under favour, the surest way of not disgracing them is to keep as long as you can out of their company. Lookye now, master, to go to them in such haste-with an ounce of lead in your brains-I should think it 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 acquaint ance with. Acres. But, David, now, you don't think there is such 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 an't been so merciless a beast in the world as your loaded pistol! Acres. Zounds! I wont be afraid; odds fire and fury! you sha'n't make me afraid. Here is the challenge, and I have sent for my dear friend, Jack Absolute, to carry it for me. David. Ay, i'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 malicious-looking letter! and I warrant smells of gunpowder, like a soldier's pouch! Oons! I wouldn't swear it mayn't go off! Acres. Out, you poltroon! you ha'n't the valour of a grasshopper. David. Well, I say no more: 'twill be sad news, to be sure, at Clod Hall! but I ha' done. How Phillis will howl when she hears of it! ay, poor bitch, she little thinks what shooting her master's going after! and I warrant old Crop, who has carried your honour, field and road, these ten years, will curse the hour he was born! Acres. It wont do, David, I am determined [Whimpering. Capt. A. Well, give it me, and trust me he gets it. Jack; but it is giving you a great deal of mention it. No trouble in the world, I assure you. have a friend! you couldn't be my second, would not be quite so proper. Acres. Well, then, I must get my friend Sir Lucius. I shall have your good wishes, however, Jack? me Capt. A. Whenever he meets you, believe Enter SERVANT. quiring for the captain. Capt. A. I'll come instantly. Well, my little are a determined dog; hey, Bob? him, 'egad, perhaps he mayn't come. So tell called, in the country, "Fighting Bob." chief; for I don't want to take his life, if I Capt. A. No! that's very kind of you. a devil of a fellow, hey? |