[PEG. takes the pen, and writes. Peg. Must all out then, bud?-Look you there then. Bel. My sweet Peggy has sent me the hand on his sword.]-Write what was to follow kindest letter and by the dragon himself:-let's see-You must make haste and help me there's a spirit for you! away before to-morrow, or else I shall be for ever Lucy. There's simplicity for you! Show me out of your reach, for I can defer no longer our— a town-bred girl with half the genius-Send what follows our?you a love-letter, and by a jealous guardian too! ha, ha, ha! 'Tis too much-too muchHa, ha, ha-Well, Mr. Belville! the world goes as it should do-my mistress will exchange her fool for a wit; Miss Peggy her brute for a pretty young fellow; I shall dance at two weddings; be well rewarded by both parties; get a husband myself; and be as happy as the best of you; and so your humble [Exit. Bel. Success attend you, Lucy. [Exit. ACT V. servant. SCENE 1.-MOODY's House. PEGGY discovered alone, leaning on her elbow on a table, with pen, ink, and paper. Peg. Well, 'tis e'en so; I have got the London disease they call love; I am sick of my guardian, and dying for Mr. Belville! I have heard this distemper called a fever, but methinks it is like an ague; for when I think of my guardian, I tremble, and am so cold; but when I think of my gallant, dear Mr. Belville, my hot fit comes, and I am all in a fever in deed. Ah! poor Mr. Belville! well, I will not stay here; therefore I'll make an end of my letter to him, which shall be a finer letter than my last, because I have studied it like any thing. Oh! sick, sick! Enter MOODY, who, seeing her writing, steals softly behind her, and looking over her shoulder, snatches the paper from her. Moo. What, writing more letters? Peg. O Lord, bud! why d'ye fright me so? [She offers to run out; he stops her, and reads. Moo. How's this! nay, you shall not stir, Madam. [Reads.] Dear, dear Mr. Belville Very well, I have taught you to write letters to good purpose-but let's see't-First, I am to beg your pardon for my boldness in writing to you, which I'd have you to know I would not have done, had you not said first you loved me so extremely; which if you do, you will never suffer me to be another man's, who I loath, nauseate, and detest-Now you can write these filthy words. But what follows?-therefore I hope you will speedily find some way to free me from this ur.fortunate match, which was never, I assure you, of my choice; but I'm afraid 'tis already too far gone; however, if you love me as I do you, you will try what you can do ; you must help me away before to-morrow, or else, alas! I shall be for ever out of your reach, for I can defer no longer our-our-what, is to follow our?-speak, what? our journey into the country, I sup: pose. Oh, woman! damned woman! and love, damned love! their old temper; for this is one of his miracles; in a moment he can make those blind that could see, and those see that were blind; those dumb that could speak, and those prattle who were dumb before. But make an end of your letter, and then I'll make an end of you thus, and all my plagues together. [Draws his sword. Peg. O Lord! O Lord! you are such a passionate man, bud! Moo. Come, take the pen, and make an end of the letter, just as you intended; if you are false in a tittle I shall soon perceive it, and punish you with this as you deserve. [Lays his Moo. Let's see for I can defer no longer our wedding-Your slighted Alithea-What's the meaning of this? my sister's name to't? speak; unriddle. Peg. Yes, indeed, bud. Moo. But why her name to't? speak-speak, I say. Peg. Ay, but you'll tell her again; if you would not tell her again Moo. I will not; I am stunned; my head turns round. Speak. Peg. Wont you tell her indeed, and indeed? Moo. No; speak, I say. Peg. She'll be angry with me; but I would rather she should be angry with me than you, bud. And to tell the truth, 'twas she made me write the letter, and taught me what I should write. Moo. Ha!-I thought the style was somewhat better than her own. [4side.] Could she come to you to teach you, since I had locked you up alone? Peg. Oh, through the key-hole, bud. Moo. But why should she make you write a letter for her to him, since she can write herself? Peg. Why she said because- Peg. Because, lest Mr. Belville, as he was so young, should be inconstant, and refuse her; or be vain afterwards, and show the letter, she might disown it, the hand not being hers. Moo. Belville again!-Am I to be deceived again with that young hypocrite? Peg. You have deceived yourself, bud; you have indeed. I have kept the secret for my sister's sake, as long as I could-but you must know it-and shall know it too. [Cries. Moo. Dry your eyes. Peg. You always thought he was hankering after me-Good law! he's dying for Alithea, and Alithea for him; they have had private meetings; and he was making love to her before yesterday, from the tavern window, when you thought it was me. I would have discovered all, but she made me swear to deceive you; and so I have finely; have not I, bud? Moo. Why did you write that foolish letter to him then, and make me more foolish to carry it? Peg. To carry on the joke, bud-to oblige them? Moo. And will nothing serve her but that great baby?-he's too young for her to marry. Peg. Why do you marry me then?-"Tis the same thing, bud. Moo. No, no; 'tis quite different. How innocent she is! [Aside ]—But hark you, Madam, your sister went out this morning, and I have not seen her within since. Peg. Alack-a-day, she has been crying all day above, it seems, in a corner. Moo. Where is she? let me speak with her. Peg. O Lord! then she'll discover all. [Aside.] -Pray hold, bud; what, d'ye mean to discover me? she'll know I have told you then. Pray, bud, let me talk with her first. Moo. I must speak with her to know whether | Belville ever made her any promise, and whether she will be married to Sparkish or no. Peg. Pray, dear bud, don't till I have spoken with her, and told her that I have told you all; for she'll kill me else. Moo. Go then, and bid her come to me. Peg. I have just got time to know of Lucy, who first set me to work, what lie I shall tell next; for I am e'en at my wits end. [Aside and exit. Moo. Well, I resolve it; Belville shall have her: I'd rather give him my sister, than lend him my wife; and such an alliance will prevent his pretensions to my wife, sure: I'll make him of kin to her, and then he wont care for her. Re-enter PEGGY. Peg. O Lord, bud, I told you what anger you would make with my sister. Moo. Wont she come? Re-enter PEGGY, dressed like ALITHEA; as she passes over the stage, she seems to sigh, sob, and wipe her eyes. Peg. Heigho! [Exit. Moo. [Comes forward.] There the poor devil goes, sighing and sobbing, a woful example of the fatal consequences of a town education; but I am bound in duty, as well as inclination, to do my utmost to save her-but first I'll secure my own property.-[Opens the door and calls.]-Peggy! Peggy! my dear!-1 will return as soon as possible-do you hear me? why don't you answer? you may read in the book I bought you till I come back.-As the Jew the door.] This is the best and only security for says in the play, "fast bind, fast find." [Locks [Exit. female affections. SCENE II.-The Park, before BELVILLE'S Enter SPARKISH, fuddled. Spark. If I can but meet with her, or any body that belongs to her, they will find me a When a man has wit, and a match for 'em. great deal of it, champaign gives it a double edge, and nothing can withstand it-'tis a lighted match to gunpowder.-I was right to consult my friends, and they all agree with Moody, that I make a damned ridiculous figure, as matters stand at present. I'll con Peg. No, she wont, she's ashamed to look you in the face; she'll go directly to Mr. Belville, she says. Pray let her have her way, bud-she wont be pacified if you don't-and will never forgive me. For my part, bud, I believe, but don't tell any body, they have broken a piece of silver between 'em-or have contracted one another, as we have done, you know, which is the next thing to being mar-sult Belville-this is his house-he's my friend ried. Moo. Pooh! you fool-she is ashamed of talking with me about Belville, because I made the match for her with Sparkish; but Sparkish is a fool, and I have no objection to Belville's family or fortune-tell her so. Peg. I will bud. [Going. Moo. Stay, stay, Peggy, let her have her own way; she shall go to Belville herself, and I'll follow her-that will be best-let her have her whim. too-and no fool-It shall be so-Damn it, I must not be ridiculous. [Going to the door, sees PEGGY coming.] Hold! hold! if the champaign does not hurt my eye-sight, while it sharpens my wit, the enemy is marching up this way. Come on, Madam Alithea; now for a smart fire; and then let's see who will be ridiculous. Enter PEGGY. Peg. Dear me, I begin to tremble; there is Mr. Sparkish, and I can't get to Mr. Belville's house without passing by him. He sees me, and will discover me; he seems in liquor too. Peg. You're in the right, bud; for they have certainly had a quarrel, by her crying and hanging her head so: I'll be hanged if her eyes an't swelled out of her head, she's in such-Bless me! a piteous taking. Moo. Belville sha'n't use her ill, I'll take care of that; if he has made her a promise, he shall keep to it: but she had better go first-I will follow her at a distance, that she may have no interruption; and I will wait in the Park before I see them, that they may come to a reconciliation before I come upon 'em. Peg. Law, bud, how wise you are!-I wish I had half your wisdom; you see every thing at once. Stand a one side then-there, a little further that way. Moo. And so I will; she sha'n't see me till Spark. O ho! she stands at bay a little; she don't much relish the engagement. The first blow is half the battle. I'll be a little figurative with her. [Aside; approaches her.] I find, Madam, you like a solo better than a duet. You need not have been walking alone this evening, if you had been wiser yesterday.What, nothing to say for yourselt?-Repentance, I suppose, makes you as awkward and as foolish as the poor country girl your brother has locked up in Pall-mall. Peg. I'm frighted out of my wits. [Tries to pass by him. Spark. Not a step further shall you go till you give me an account of your behaviour, and make me reparation for being ridiculous.— What, dumb still! then if you wont, by fair means, must squeeze you to a confession. [As he goes to seize her, she stips by him; but he catches hold of her before she reaches BELVILLE'S door.] Not quite so fast, if you please.-Come, come, let me see your modest iace, and hear your soft tongue, or I shall be tempted to use, you ill. [Exit. Moo. My case is something better; for suppose the worst-should Belville use her ill--I had rather fight him for not marrying my sister, than for debauching my wife, for I will make her mine absolutely to-morrow; and of the two, I had rather find my sister too forward than my wife: I expected no other from her free education, as she calls it, and her passion for the town. Well, wife and sister are names which make us expect love and duty, pleasure and comfort; but we find 'em plagues and torments, and are equally, though differently, Moo. Hands off, you ruffian! How dare you troublesome to their keeper. But here she use a lady, and my sister, in this manner? [Steps on one side. [Takes her from SPARKISH. comes. Enter MOODY. Spark. She's my property, Sir; transferred to me by you: and though I would give her up to any body for a dirty sword-knot, yet I wont be bullied out of my right, though it is not worth that.[Snaps his fingers. Moo. There's a fellow to be a husband! Moo. Your master, rascal. Foot. He is obeying your commands, Sir; and the moment he has finished, he will do himself the pleasure to wait on you. You are justified in despising him and flying from him. I'll defend you with my purse and Moo. You sneering villain you, if your my sword.-Knock at that door, and let me master does not produce that she devil, who is speak to Belville. [PEGGY knocks at the door; now with him, and who, with a face of innowhen the FOOTMAN opens it, she runs in.]-Iscence, has cheated and undone me, I'll set fire to his house. your master at home, friend? Foot. Yes, Sir, Moo. Tell him then that I have rescued that lady from this gentleman, and that by her desire, and my consent, she flies to him for protection; if he can get a parson, let him marry her this minute; tell him so, and shut the door. [Exit FOOTMAN.] And now, Sir, if your wine has given you courage, you had better show it upon this occasion; for you are still damned ridiculous. Spark. Did you ever hear the like?-Lookye, Mr. Moody, we are in the Park, and to draw a sword is an offence to the court; so you may vapour as long as you please. A woman of so little taste is not worth fighting for; she's not worth my sword! but if you'll fight me to-morrow morning for diversion, I am your man. Moo. Relinquish your title in the lady to Belville peaceably, and you may sleep in a whole skin. Spark. Belville! he would not have your sister with the fortune of a nabob; no, no, his mouth waters at your country tit-bit at home; much good may it do him. Moo. And you think so, puppy-ha, ha, ha! Moo. Then thy folly is complete-ha, ha, ha! Spark. What, my boy Harcourt ! Moo. What brings you here, Sir? Har. I followed you to Belville's to present a near relation of yours, and a nearer one of mine, to you. Spark. What's the matter now! [Exit. Re-enter HARCOURT, with ALITHEA. Har. Give me leave, gentlemen, without offence to either, to present Mrs. Harcourt to you! Spark. Alithea! your wife!-Mr. Moody, are you in the clouds too? Moo. If I am not in a dream, I am the most miserable walking dog that ever ran mad with his misfortunes and astonishment! Har. Why so, Jack? can you object to my happiness, when this gentleman was unworthy of it? [MOODY walks about in a rage. Spark. This is very fine, very fine indeed!Where's your story about Belville now, 'squire Moody? pr'ythee don't chafe, and stare, and stride, and beat thy head, like a mad tragedy poet-but out with thy tropes and figures. Moo. Zounds! I can't bear it. [Goes hastily to BELVILLE's door, and knocks hard. Ali. Dear brother, what's the matter? Moo. The devils the matter! the devil and women together. [Knocks again.] I'll break the door down, if they wont answer. [Knocks again. I [Exit FOOTMAN. Spark. 'Gad so! now I begin to smoke the business. Well said, simplicity, rural simplicity! 'Egad! if thou hast tricked Cerberus here, I shall be so ravished that I will give this couple a wedding dinner. Pray, Mr. Moody, who's damned ridiculous now? Moo. [Going to SPARKISH.] Look ye, Sirdon't grin, for if you dare to show your teeth at my misfortunes, I'll dash 'em down your impudent throat, you jackanapes. Spark. [Quite calm.] Very fine, faith-but I have no weapons to butt with a mad bull, so you may toss and roar by yourself, if you please. Enter BELVILLE, in the balcony. Bel. What does my good friend want with me? Moo. Are you a villain, or are you not? Enter PEGGY, in the balcony. Peg. No, but I an't though, bud.-What's the matter, dear, are you angry with me? Moo. How dare you look me in the face, cockatrice? Peg. How dare you look me in the face, bud? Have you not given me to another, when you ought to have married me yourself? have not you pretended to be married to me, when you knew in your conscience you was not? and have you not been shilly-shally for a long time? so that if I had not married dear Mr. Belville, I should not have married at all-so I should not. [BELVILLE and PEGGY retire from the balcony. Spark. Extremely pleasant, faith; ha, ha, ha! Moo. I am stupified with shame, rage, and astonishment-my fate has overcome me-I can struggle no more with it. [Sighs.] What is left me?-1 cannot bear to look, or be looked upon-I will hurry down to my old house, take a twelvemonth's provision into it-cut down my drawbridge, run wild about my gar den, which shall grow as wild as myself-then will' I curse the world, and every individual in it-and when my rage and spirits fail me, I will be found dead among the nettles and thistles, a woful example of the baseness and treachery of one sex, and the falsehood, lying, perjury, deceit, impudence, and damnation, of [Exit. the other. Spark. Very droll, and extravagantly comic, I must confess; ha, ha, ha! Re-enter BELVILLE aud PEGGY. Lookye, Belville, I wish you joy with all my heart-you have got the prize, and perhaps have caught a tartar-that's no business of near mine-If you want evidence for Mr. Moody's | Bud was so passionate, and grown so thrifty, giving his consent to your marriage, I shall "Twas a sad life-and then, he was be ready. I bear no ill will to that pair: I wish you happy; [To ALITHEA and HAR- I'm but nineteen-my husband too is young, fifty! COURT.]-though I'm sure they'll be miserable So soft, so gentle, such a winning tongue! -and so your humble servant. [Exit. Have I, pray ladies, speak, done very wrong? Peg. I hope you forgive me, Alithea, for As for poor bud, 'twas honest to deceive playing your brother this trick; indeed I should him! have only made him and myself miserable, had we married together. More virtuous sure to cheat him than to grieve him. Great folks, I know, will call me simple Ali. Then 'tis much better as it is. But am yet in the dark how this matter has been brought about; how your innocence, my dear," has outwitted his worldly wisdom? Peg. I am sure I'll do any thing to please my bud, but marry him. [She comes forward, and addresses the Audience: ones; Marry for love," they cry, With half my fortune I would rather part, And, as I know no better, pray excuse me. THE IRISH WIDOW: A FARCE, IN TWO ACTS. BY DAVID GARRICK, Esq. REMARKS. THIS after-piece, by Garrick, was originally intended to introduce the celebrated Mrs. Barry, in a novel species of character; and the piece was indebted, for much of its early success, to the peculiar ability of that lady, as the widow Brady. It is now occasionally produced, for the same purpose; and has never had a more lovely chevalier to protect it from the critics, than in the assumption of the breeches by Mrs. Mardyn. ACT I. SCENE 1.-WHITTLE'S House. Enter BATES and SERVANT. Bates. Is he gone out? his card tells me to come directly--I did but lock up some papers, take my hat and cane, and away I hurried. Serv. My master desires you will sit down, he will return immediately-he had some business with his lawyer, and went out in great haste, leaving the message I have delivered. Here is my young master. [Exit. Enter NEPHEW. Butes. What, lively Billy!-Hold, I beg your pardon-melancholy William, I thinkHere's a fine revolution-I hear your uncle, who was last month all gravity, and you all mirth, have changed characters; he is now all spirit, and you are in the dumps, young man. Nep. And for the same reason-this journey to Scarborough will unfold the riddle. Bates. Come, come, in plain English, and before your uncle comes, explain the matter. Nep. In the first place, I am undone. Bates. In love, I know-I hope your uncle is not undone too; that would be the devil! Nep. He has taken possession of him in every sense. In short, he came to Scarborough to see the lady I had fallen in love with Bates. And fell in love himself? Bates. That is the devil indeed! Nep. O, Mr. Bates, when I thought my happiness complete, and wanted only my uncle's consent, to give me the independence he so often has promised me, he came to Scarborough for that purpose, and wished me joy of my choice; but, in less than a week, his approbation turned into a passion for her: he now hates the sight of me, and is resolved, with the consent of the father, to make her his wife directly. Bates. So he keeps you out of your fortune, wont give his consent, which his brother's foolish will requires, and he would marry himself the same woman, because right, title, conscience, nature, justice, and every law, divine and human, are against it. |