THE HYPOCRITE: A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY ISAAC BICKERSTAFF. REMARKS. THIS alteration of Cibber's Nonjuror, by Bickerstaffe, was acted at Drury Lane, 1768. The ingenious alterer says, in his preface, that he should be under no obligation to answer objections to his play, being accountable for none of its faults, as he claims none of its beauties. The Nonjuror, written to expose a party, would not interest the present age, because the folly and roguery it was designed to ridicule no longer exist; but the substitution, for Doctor Wolf, of the Tartuffe of Moliere, (Doctor Cantwell of the Hypocrite) has rendered it agreeable to modern times. Little more than the character of Mawworm was written by Bickerstaffe, and that principally for the sake of the comic talent of Weston. It is a valuable trait of this comedy, that it carefully distinguishes between rational piety, and the hypocrisy, fanaticism, and outrageous pretensions to sanctity, which it so severely satirises. ACT I. SCENE 1.-A Hall in SIR JOHN LAMBERT'S House. Enter SIR JOHN LAMBERT and COLONEL Col. L. Pray consider, Sir. Sir J. So I do, Sir, that I am her father, and will dispose of her as I please. Col. L. I do not dispute your authority, Sir; but as I am your son too, I think it my duty to be concerned for your honour. Have not you countenanced his addresses to my sister? has not she received them?-Mr. Darnley's birth and fortune are well known to you; and I dare swear, he may defy the world to lay a blemish on his character. Sir J. Why then, Sir, since I am to be catechised, I must tell you I do not like his character; he is a world-server, a libertine, and has no more religion than you have. Col. L. Sir, we neither of us think it proper to make a boast of our religion; but, if you please to inquire, you will find that we go to church as orderly as the rest of our neighbours. Sir J. Oh, you go to church! you go to church!-Wonderful! wonderful! to bow, and grin, and cough, and sleep: a fine act of devotion indeed. Col. L. Well but, dear Sir Sir J. Colonel, you are an Atheist. Col. L. Pardon me, Sir, I am none: it is a character I abhor; and next to that, I abhor the character of an enthusiast. Sir J. Oh, you do so; an enthusiast !-this is the fashionable phrase, the bye-word, the nick-name, that our pleasure-loving generation give to those few who have a sense of true sanctity. Col. L. Say, canting, Sir. Sir J. I tell you what, son, as I have told you more than once, you will draw some heavy judgment on your head one day or other. Col. L. So says the charitable Doctor Cantwell; you have taken him into your house, and in return he gives over half your family to the devil. Sir J. Do not abuse the doctor, colonel; it is not the way to my favour. I know you can not bear him, because he is not one of your mincing preachers. He holds up the glass to your enormities, shows you to yourselves in your genuine colours. Col. L. I always respect piety and virtue, Sir; but there are pretenders to religion, as well as to courage; and as we never find the truly brave to be such as make much noise about their valour; so, I apprehend, the truly good seldom or never deal much in grimace. Char. Well, then, provided it is not upon the subject of love, I will be so-but make haste too-for I have not had my tea yet. Col. L. Why it is, and it is not, upon that subject. Char. Oh, I love a riddle dearly-Comelet's hear it. Col. L. Nay, pshaw! if you will be serious, say so. Char. O lard, Sir! I beg your pardon-there Sir J. Very well, Sir; this is very well. -there's my whole form and features, totally Col. L. Besides, Sir, I would be glad to disengaged and lifeless, at your service; now, know, by what authority the doctor pretends put them in what posture of attention you to exercise the clerical function. It does not think fit. [Leans on him awkwardly. appear clearly to me that he ever was in orders. Col. L. Was there ever such a giddy devil! Sir J. That is no business of yours, Sir.--Pr'ythee, stand up. I have been talking But, I am better informed. However, he has with my father, and he declares positively you shall not receive any further addresses from Mr. Darnley. the call of zeal. Col. L. Zeal! Sir J. Why, colonel, you are in a passion. Col. L. I own I cannot see with temper, Sir, so many religious mountebanks impose on the unwary multitude; wretches, who make a trade of religion, and show an uncommon concern for the next world, only to raise their fortunes with greater security in this. Sir J. Colonel, let me hear no more; I see you are too hardened to be converted now: but since you think it your duty, as a son, to be concerned for my errors, I think it as much mine, as a father, to be concerned for yours. If you think fit to amend them, so; if not, take the consequence. Col. L. Well, Sir, may I ask you, without offence, if the reasons you have given me are your only reasons for discountenancing Mr. Darnley's addresses to my sister? Sir J. Are they not flagrant? would you have me marry my daughter to a Pagan? Col. L. He intends this morning paying his respects to you, in hopes to obtain your final consent; and desired me to be present as a mediator of articles between you. Sir J. I am glad to hear it. Col. L. That's kind indeed, Sir. Sir J. May be not, Sir; for I will not be at home when he comes: and because I will not tell a lie for the matter, I'll go out this mo ment. Col. L. Nay, dear Sir Sir J. And, do you hear-because I will not deceive him either, tell him I would not have him lose his time in fooling after your sisterIn short, I have another man in my head for her. [Exit. Col. L. Another man! It would be worth one's while to know him: pray Heaven this canting hypocrite has not got some beggarly rascal in his eye for her. I must rid the house of him at any rate, or all the settlement I can hope for from my father is a castle in the air.My sister may be ruined too-here she comes. If there be another man in the case, she, no doubt, can let me into the secret. Enter CHARLOTTE. Sister, good morrow; I want to speak with you. Char. Pr'ythee then, dear brother, don't put on that wise, politic face, as if your regiment was going to be disbanded, or sent to the West Indies, and you obliged to follow it. Char. Are you serious? Col. L. He said so this minute, and with some warmth. Char. I am glad on't, with all my heart. Char. To a degree. Do you think a man has any more charms for me for my father's liking him? no, Sir, if Mr. Darnley can make his way to me now, he is obliged to me, and to me only. Besides, now it may have the face of an amour indeed, now one has something to struggle for; there's difficulty, there's danger, there's the dear spirit of contradiction in it too-Oh! I like it mightily. Col. L. I am glad this does not make you think the worse of Darnley-but my father's consent might have clapped a pair of horses more to your coach perhaps, and the want of it may pinch your fortune. Char. Burn fortune; am not I a fine woman? and have not I twenty thousand pounds in my own hands? Col. L. Yes, sister; but with all your charms, you have had them in your hands almost these four years. Char. Pshaw! and have not I had the full swing of my own airs and humours these four years? but if I humour my father, I warrant he'll make it three or four thousand more, with some unlicked lout-a comfortable equivalent, truly!-No, no; let him light his pipe with his consent, if he please. Wilful against wise for a wager. Col. L. But pray, sister, has my father ever proposed any other man to you? Char. Another man! let me know why you ask, and I'll tell you. Col. L. Why, the last words he said to me were, that he had another man in his head for you. Char. And who is it? who is it? tell me, dear brother. Col. L. Why, you don't so much as seem surprised. Char. No; but I'm impatient, and that's as well. Col. L. Why how now, sister? Chur. Why sure, brother, you know very little of female happiness, if you suppose the surprise of a new lover ought to shock a woman of my temper-don't you know that I am a coquette? Col. L. If you are, you are the first that ever was sincere enough to own her being so. Char. To a lover, I grant you; but not to Col. L. Come, come, a truce with your rail-you; I make no more of you than a sister: I lery: what I have to ask of you is serious, and I beg you would be so in your answer. can say any thing to you. Col. LI should have been better pleased, if you had not owned it to me-it's a hateful character. Char. Ay, it's no matter for that, it's violently pleasant, and there's no law against it, that I know of. Col. L. Darnley's like to have a hopeful time with you. Char. Well, but don't you really know who it is my father intends me? Col. L. Not I, really; but I imagined you might, and therefore thought to advise with you about it. Char. Nay, he has not opened his lips to me yet are you sure he is gone out? Col. L. You are very impatient to know, methinks; what have you to do to concern yourself about any man but Darnley? Char. O lud! O lud! pr'ythee brother don't be so wise; if you had an empty house to let, would you be displeased to hear there were two people about it? besides, to be a little serious, Darnley has a tincture of jealousy in his temper, which nothing but a substantial rival can cure. Col. L. Oh, your servant, Madam! now you talk reason. I am glad you are concerned enough for Darnley's faults, to think them worth your mending; ha, ha! Char. Concerned! why, did I say that?look you, I'll deny it all to him-well, if ever I'm serious with him again Col. L. Here he comes; be as merry with him as you please. Enter DARNLEY. Darn. My dear colonel, your servant. Col. L. I am glad you did not come sooner; for in the humour my father left me, 'twould not have been a proper time for you to have pressed your affair-I touched upon't-butI'll tell you more presently; in the meantime lose no ground with my sister. Darn. I shall always think myself obliged to your friendship, let my success be what it will-Madam-your most obedient-what have you got there, pray? Char. [Reading.] “Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose; Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those-" Char. "Favours to none, to all she smiles extends-" Darn. Nay, I will see. Char. " Oft she rejects, but never once offends." Col. L. Have a care; she has dipped into her own character, and she'll never forgive you, if you don't let her go through with it. Darn. I beg your pardon, Madam. Char. "Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, And like the sun they shine on all alike." Um um Darn. That is something like indeed. Col. L. You would say so, if you knew all. Durn. All what? pray what do you mean? Col. L. Have a little patience; I'll tell you immediately. Char. "If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face-and you'll forget them all." Is not that natural, Mr. Darnley? Darn. For a woman to expect, it is indeed. Char. And can you blame her, when 'tis at the same time a proof of the poor man's passion and her power? Darn. So that you think the greatest compliment a lover can make his mistress, is to give up his reason to her. Char. Certainly; for what have your lordly sex to boast of but your understanding, and till that's entirely surrendered to her discretion, while the least sentiment holds out against her, a woman must be downright vain to think her conquest completed! Darn. There we differ, Madam; for, in my opinion, nothing but the most excessive vanity could value or desire such a conquest. Char. Oh, d'ye hear him, brother? the creature reasons with me; nay, has the effrontery to think me in the wrong too! O lud! he'd make a horrid tyrant-positively I won't have him. Darn. Well, my comfort is, no other man will easily know whether you'll have him or not. Darn. I would indeed.-Nay, were it but possible to make you serious only when you should be so, I should think you the most amiable Char. O lud! he's civilDarn. Come, come, you have good sense; use me but with that, and make me what you please. Char. Laud! I don't desire to make any thing of you, not I. Darn. Come then, be generous, and swear at least you'll never marry another. Char. Ah, laud! now you have spoiled all again: besides, how can I be sure of that, before I have seen this other man my brother spoke to me of? Darn. What riddle's this? Col. L. I told you, you did not know all. To be serious, my father went out but now, on purpose to avoid you.-In short, he absolutely retracts his promises; says, he would not have you fool away your time after my sister; and in plain terms told me, he had another man in his head for her. Darn. Another man! who? what is he? did not he name him? Col. L. No; nor has he yet spoke of him to my sister. Darn. This is unaccountable !-what can have given him this sudden turn? Col. L. Some whim our conscientious doctor has put in his head, I'll lay my life. Darn. He! he can't be such a villain; he professes a friendship for me. Col. L. So much the worse. Darn. But on what pretence, what grounds, what reason, what interest, can he have to oppose me? Col. L. Are you really now as unconcerned as you seem to be? Char. You are a strange dunce, brotheryou know no more of love than I do of a regiment-You shall see now how I'll comfort him-Poor Darnley, ha, ha, ha! Darn. I don't wonder at your good humour, Madam, when you have so substantial an opportunity to make me uneasy for life. Char. O lud! how sentimentious he is! well, his reproaches have that greatness of soul-the confusion they give is insupporta- | when he calls, give them to Mr. Mawworm; ble. Enter BETTY. Betty, is the tea ready? Bet. Yes, Madam. [Exeunt CHAR. and BET. Col. L. So; you have made a fine piece of work on't, indeed! and, do you hear, if any one inquires for me, Old Lady L. Well but, worthy doctor, why will you go to the prisons yourself-cannot you send the money?-ugly distempers are often catched there have a care of your health; let us keep one good man, at least, amongst us. Dr. C. Alas, Madam, I am not a good man; am a guilty, wicked sinner, full of iniquity; the greatest villain that ever breathed; every instant of my life is clouded with stains; it is one continued series of crimes and defilements; you do not know what I am capable of; you indeed take me for a good man; but the truth is, I am a worthless creature. Darn. Dear Tom, pardon me if I speak a little freely; I own the levity of her behavi-I our, at this time, gives me harder thoughts than I once believed it possible to have of her. Col. L. Indeed, my friend, you mistake her. Darn. Nay, nay; had she any real concern for me, the apprehensions of a man's addresses, whom yet she never saw, must have alarmed her to some degree of seriousness. Col. L. Not at all; for let this man be whom he will, I take her levity as a proof of her resolution to have nothing to say to him. Darn. And pray, Sir, may I not as well suspect, that this artful delay of her good nature to me now, is meant as a provisional defence against my reproaches, in case, when she has seen this man, she should think it convenient to prefer him. Col. L. No, no; she's giddy, but not capable of so studied a falsehood. Darn. But still, what could she mean by going away so abruptly? Col. L. You grew too grave for her. Durn. Do you then really think she has any thing in her heart for me? Col. L. Ay, marry, Sir-ah! if you could but get her to own that seriously now; Lord! how you could love her! Darn. And so I could, by Heaven! Col. L. Well, well, I'll undertake for her; if my father don't stand in the way, we are well enough. Darn. What says my lady? you don't think she's against us? Col. L. I dare say she is not. She's of so soft, so sweet a disposition Darn. Pr'ythee, how came so fine a woman to marry your father, with such a vast inequality of years? Col. L. Want of fortune, Frank; she was poor and beautiful-he, rich and amorousshe made him happy, and he her Darn. A lady Col. L. And a jointure-now she's the only one in the family that has power with our precise doctor; and, I dare engage, she'll use it with him to persuade my father from any thing that is against your interest. By the way, you must know I have some shrewd suspicion that this sanctified rogue is in love with her. Old Lady L. Have you then stumbled? alas! if it be so, who shall walk upright? what horrid crime have you been hurried into, that calls for this severe self-accrimination? Dr. C. None, Madam, that perhaps humanity may call very enormous; yet am I sure, that my thoughts never stray a moment from celestial contemplations? do they not sometimes, before I am aware, turn to things of this earth? am I not often hasty, and surprised into wrath? nay, the instance is recent; for last night, being snarled at and bit by Minxy, your daughter-in-law's lap-dog, I am conscious I struck the little beast with a degree of passion, for which I have never been able to forgive myself since. Old Lady L. Oh! worthy, humble soul! this is a slight offence, which your suffering and mortifications may well atone for. Dr. C. No, Madam, no; I want to suffer; I ought to be mortified; and I am obliged now to tell you, that, for my soul's sake, I must quit your good son's family; I am pampered too much here, live too much at my ease. Old Lady L. Good doctor! Dr. C. Alas, Madam! it is not you that should shed tears; it is I ought to weep; you are a pure woman. Old Lady L. I pure! who, 1? no, no; sinful, sinful-but do not talk of quitting our family; what will become of us—for friendship-for charity Dr. C. Enough; say no more, Madam; I submit; while I can do good, it is my duty. Enter COLONEL LAMBERT and DARNLEY. Col. L. Your ladyship's most humble ser vant. Old Lady L. Grandson, how do you? Dr. C. Mr. Darnley, I am your most humble servant; I hope you and the good colonel will stay and join in the private duties of the family. Old Lady L. No, doctor, no; it is too early; the sun has not risen upon them; but, I doubt not, the day will come. now! Dr. C. I warrant, they would go to a play Old Lady L. Would they-I am afraid they would. Darn. Why, I hope it is no sin, Madam; if I am not mistaken, I have seen your ladyship at a play. Old Lady L. Me, Sir! see me at a play! you may have seen the prince of darkness, or some of his imps, in my likeness, perhaps Darn. Well but, Madam Old Lady L. Mr. Darnley, do you think I would commit murder? Dr. C. No, Sir, no; these are not the plants usually to be met with in that rank soil; the seeds of wickedness indeed sprout up every where too fast; but a playhouse is the devil's hot-bed Col. L. And yet, doctor, I have known some of the leaders of your tribe, as scrupulous as they are, who have been willing to gather fruit there for the use of the brethren-as in case of a benefit Col. L. Ha, ha, ha! Dr. C. Reprobate! reprobate! Col. L. What is that you mutter, sirrah? Darn. Let him go, colonel. Dr. C. Very well, Sir; your father shall know my treatment. [Exit. Old Lady L. Let me run out of the house; I shall have it fall upon my head, if I stay among such wicked wretches. O grandson! grandson! [Exit. Darn. Was there ever such an insolent rascal! Col. L. The dog will one day provoke me to beat his brains out. Darn. But what the devil is he? whence comes he?-what is his original ?-how has he so ingratiated himself with your father, as to get footing in the house? Col. L. Oh, Sir, he is here in quality of chaplain; he was first introduced by the good old lady that's just gone out. You know, she has been a long time a frequenter of our modern conventicles, where it seems she got acquainted with this sanctified pastor. His disciples believe him a saint; and my poor father, who has been for some time tainted with their pernicious principles, has been led into the same Col. L. Hold-if my father wont resent this, 'tis then time enough for me to do it. Dr. C. Compose yourself, Madam; I came by your father's desire, who, being informed that you were entertaining Mr. Darnley, grew impatient, and gave his positive commands that you attend him instantly, or he himself, he says, will fetch you. Darn. Ay, now the storm is rising. Dr. C. So, for what I have done, Madam, I had his authority, and shall leave him to answer you. Char. Nothing. Darn. I beg you would tell us, Madam. Char. Nay, no great matter-but I was sitting carelessly in my dressing-room-a-a fastening my gárter, and this impudent cur comes bounce in upon me Darn. The rogue must be corrected. Col. L. Yet, 'egad, I cannot help laughing at the accident; what a ridiculous figure she must make-ha, ha! Char. Hah! you're as impudent as he, I think. Darn. Now, dear Tom, speak to her before she goes. Char. What does he say, brother? Col. L. Why, he wants to have me speak to you; and I would have him do it himself. Char. Ay, come, do, Darnley; I am in a good humour now. Darn. Oh, Charlotte! my heart is burstingChar. Well, well; out with it then. Darn. Your father now, I see, is bent on parting us-nay, what's worse perhaps, will give you to another-I cannot speak-imagine what I want from you. Char. Well-O lud! one looks so silly though when one is so serious-O dear,-in short, I cannot get it out. Col. L. I warrant you; try again. Char. O lud-well-if one must be teased, then-why, he must hope, I think. Darn. Is't possible!-thus Col. L. Buz-not a syllable; she has done very well. I bar all heroics; if you press it too far, I'll hold six to four she's off again in a moment. Darn. I'm silenced. Char. Now am I on tiptoe to know what odd fellow my father has found out for me. Darn. I'd give something to know him. Char. He's in a terrible fuss at your being here, I find. Col. L. 'Sdeath! here he comes. Enter SIR JOHN LAMBERT hastily; and, looking ACT II. SCENE I-An Antichamber at SIR JOHN LAMBERT'S. Enter SEYWARD, with a writing in his hand. Sey. 'Tis so-I have long suspected where his zeal would end, in the making of his private fortune. But then, to found it on the ruin of his patron's children!-I shudder at the villany! What desperation may a son be driven to, so barbarously disinherited!-Besides, his daughter, fair Charlotte, too, is wronged; wronged in the tenderest point: for so extravagant is this settlement, that it leaves her not a shilling, unless she marries with the doctor's consent; which is intended, by what I have pre-heard, as an expedient to oblige her to marry the doctor himself. Now, 'twere but an honest part to let Charlotte know the snare that's laid for her. This deed's not signed, and may be yet prevented. It shall be so. Char. 'Tis false. He gave you no authority to insult me; or, if he had, did you suppose I would bear it from you? What is it you sume upon? your function? does that exempt you from the manners of a gentleman? Dr. C. Shall I have an answer to your father, lady? |