own you, I'll disinherit you, I'll unget you! and damn me, if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit SIR ANTH. Abs. Mild, gentle, considerate father, I kiss your hands. What a tender method of giving his opinion in these matters sir Anthony has! I dare not trust him with the truth. I wonder what old, wealthy hag it is that he wants to bestow on me! -yet, he married, himself, for love! and was, in his youth, a bold intriguer, and a gay companion! Enter FAG. Fug. Assuredly, sir, your father is wrath to a degree: he comes down stairs eight or ten steps at a time, muttering, growling, and thumping the banisters all the way: I, and the cook's dog, stand bowing at the door-rap! he gives me a stroke on the head with his cane, bids me carry that to my master; then, kicking the poor turnspit into the area, damns us all, for a puppy triumvirate-Upon my credit, sir, were I in your place, and found my father such very bad company, I should certainly drop his acquaintance. Abs. Cease your impertinence, sir, at present. -Did you come in for nothing more?-Stand out of the way. [Pushes him aside, and exit. Enter SIR LUCIUS O'TRIGGER. Sir Luc. Hah! my little cmbassadress-Upon my conscience, I have been looking for you; I have been on the south parade this half hour. Lucy. [Speaking simply.] O gemini! and I have been waiting for your worship here on the north! Sir Luc. Faith!-may be, that was the reason we did not meet; and it is very comical too, how you could go out, and I not see you-for I was only taking a nap at the parade coffee-house, and I chose the window on purpose that I might not miss you. Lucy. My stars! Now, I would wager a sixpence I went by while you were asleep! Sir Luc. Sure enough it must have been soand I never dreamt it was so late till I waked. Well, but my little girl, have you got nothing for me? Lucy. Yes, but I have—I've got a letter for you in my pocket. Sir Luc. O, faith, I guessed you were not come empty-handed! Well; let me see what the dear creature says. Lucy. There, sir Lucius. 6 [Gices him a letter. Sir. Luc. [Reads.] Sir-There is often a sud'den incentive impulse in love, that has a greater induction than years of domestic combina'tion: such was the commotion I felt at the first Fag. So! Sir Anthony trims my master: He is afraid to reply to his father, then vents his spleen on poor Fag!-When one is vexed by one person, to revenge one's sclf on another, who happens to come in the way-is the vilest in-superfluous view of sir Lucius O'Trigger.' Very justice! Ah! it shews the worst temper--the basest Lucy. So I shall have another rival to add to my nustress's list-captain Absolute.--However, I shall not enter his name till my purse has received notice in form. Poor Acres is dismissed !—Well, I have done him a last friendly office, in letting him know that Beverley was here before him. Sir Lucius is generally more punetual, when he expects to hear from his dear Dalia, as he calls her: I wonder he's not here! -I have a little scruple of conscience from this deceit; though I should not be paid so well, if my hero knew that Delia was near fifty, and her ewn mistress. VOL. II. | pretty, upon my word. "Female punctuation forbids me to say more; yet, let me add, that it will give me joy infallible to find sir Lucius worthy the last criterion of my affections. 'DELIA.' Upon my conscience, Lucy, your lady is a great mistress of language! Faith, she's quite the queen of the dictionary! for the devil a word dare refuse coming at her call-though one would think it was quite out of hearing. Lucy. Ay, sir, a lady of her experience. Sir Luc. Experience! what, at seventeen! Lucy. O, true, sir-but then she reads so-my stars! how she will read off hand! Sir Luc. Faith, she must be very deep read to write this way, though she is rather an arbitrary writer, too; for here are a great many poor words pressed into the service of this note, that would get their habeas corpus from any court in Christendom. Lucy. Ah, sir Lucius! If you were to hear how she talks of you! Sir Luc. O, tell her, I'll make her the best husband in the world, and lady O'Trigger into the bargain! But we must get the old gentlewoman's consent, and do every thing fairly. Lucy. Nay, sir Lucius; I thought you was not rich enough to be so nice! Sir Luc. Upon my word, young woman, you 6 M have hit it: I am so poor, that I can't afford to | [Kisses her. Lucy. O, lud, sir Lucius! I never seed such a gemman! My lady won't like you if you are so impudent. Sir Luc. Faith she will, Lucy; that same pho! what's the name of it?-modesty-is a quality in a lover more praised by the women than liked; so, if your mistress asks you whether sir Lucius ever gave you a kiss, tell her fifty, my dear. Fag. Come, come, Lucy; here's no one by— so a little less simplicity, with a grain or two more sincerity, if you please. You play false with us, madam. I saw you give the baronet a letter. My master shail know this; and if he don't call him out, I will. Lucy. Ha, ha, ha! you gentlemen's gentlemen are so hasty. That letter was from Mrs Malaprop, simpleton. She is taken with sir Lucius's address. Fag. How! what tastes some people have! Why, I suppose I have walked by her window an hundred times. But what says your young lady ? Any message to my master? Lucy. Sad news, Mr Fag! A worse rival than Acres! Sir Anthony Absolute has proposed his son. Fag. What! captain Absolute? Lucy. Even so-I overheard it all. Fag. Ha, ha, ha! very good, faith! Goodbye, Lucy; I must away with this news. Lucy. Well; you may laugh; but it is true, I assure you. [Going.] But, Mr Fag, tell your master not to be cast down by this. Fag. O, he'll be so disconsolate! Lucy. And charge him not to think of quarrelling with young Absolute. Fug. Never fear! never fear! Lucy. Be sure; bid him keep up his spirits. we will. [Exeunt severally. SCENE I.-The North Parade. Enter ABSOLUTE. ACT III. him; he's any body's son for me. I never will me. Abs. 'Tis just as Fag told me, indeed. Whimsical enough, faith! My father wants to force me to marry the very girl I am plotting to run away with. He must not know of my connection with her yet a-while. He has too summary Abs. A sincere penitent. I come, sir, to aca method of proceeding in these matters. How-knowledge my error, and to submit entirely to ever, I'll read my recantation instantly. My your will. conversion is something sudden, indeed; but I can assure him it is very sincere. So, so, here he comes. He looks plaguy gruff. Enter SIR ANTHONY. [Steps aside. Sir Anth. No: I'll die sooner than forgive him! Die, did I say? I'll live these fifty years to plague him. At our last meeting, his impudence had almost put me out of temper. An obstinate, passionate, self-willed boy! Who can he take after? This is my return for getting him before all his brothers and sisters! for putting him, at twelve years old, into a marching regiment, and allowing him fifty pounds a-year, besides his pav, ever since! But I have done with Sir Anth. What's that? Abs. I have been revolving, and reflecting, and considering on your past goodness, and kindness, and condescension to me. Sir Anth. Well, sir? Abs. I have been likewise weighing and balancing what you were pleased to mention concerning duty, and obedience, and authority. Sir Anth. Well, puppy ? · Abs. Why, then, sir, the result of my reflections is, a resolution to sacrifice every inclination of my own to your satisfaction. Sir Anth. Why now, you talk sense-absolute sense. I never heard any thing more sensible in my life. Confound you! you shall be Jack again! Abs. I am happy in the appellation. Sir Anth. Why, then, Jack, my dear Jack, I will now inform you who the lady really is.Nothing but your passion and violence, you silly fellow, prevented my telling you at first. Prepare, Jack, for wonder and rapture-prepare! What think you of Miss Lydia Languish? Abs. Languish! What, the Languishes of Worcestershire? very nice, I own I should rather choose a wife of mine to have the usual number of limbs, and a limited quantity of back: and though one eye may be very agreeable, yet, as the prejudice has always run in favour of two, I would not wish to affect a singularity in that article. Sir Anth. What a phlegmatic sot it is! Why, sirrah, you're an anchorite! a vile, insensible Sir Anth. Worcestershire! No. Did you ne-stock! You a soldier! you're a walking block, ver meet Mrs Malaprop and her niece, Miss fit only to dust the company's regimentals on! Languish, who came into our country just before Odds life! I've a great mind to marry the girl you were last ordered to your regiment? myself! Abs. Malaprop! Languish! I don't remember ever to have heard the names before. Yet, stay; I think I do recollect something. Languish! Languish! She squints, don't she? A little redhaired girl? Sir Anth. Squints! A red-haired girl!Zounds! no. Abs. Then, I must have forgot; it can't be the same person. Sir Anth. Jack! Jack! what think you of blooming, love-breathing seventeen? Abs. As to that, sir, I am quite indifferent. If I can please you in the matter, 'tis all I de sire. Abs. I am entirely at your disposal, sir; if you should think of addressing Miss Languish yourself, I suppose you would have me marry the aunt: or, if you should change your mind, and take the old lady, 'tis the same to me, I'll marry the niece. Sir Anth. Upon my word, Jack, thou'rt either a very great hypocrite, or-but, come, I know your indifference on such a subject must be all a lie-I'm sure it must---come, now-dan your demure face! Come, confess, Jack; you have been lying, ha'n't you? You have been playing the hypocrite, hey? I'll never forgive you, if you ha'n't been lying and playing the hypocrite. Sir Anth. Nay, but, Jack, such eyes! such Abs. I'm sorry, sir, that the respect and duty eyes! so innocently wild! so bashfully irreso- which I bear to you should be so mistaken. lute! not a glance but speaks and kindles some Sir Anth. Hang your respect and duty! But, thought of love! Then, Jack, her cheeks! her come along with me; I'll write a note to Mrs Macheeks, Jack! so deeply blushing at the insinua-laprop, and you shall visit the lady directly. Her tions of her tell-tale eyes! Then, Jack, her lips! eyes shall be the Promethian torch to youO, Jack, lips smiling at their own discretion; and, Come along! I'll never forgive you, if you don't if not smiling, more sweetly pouting; more love- come back stark mad with rapture and impaly in sullenness! tience if you don't, egad, I'll marry the girl myself! [Exeunt. Abs. That's she, indeed. Well done, old gentleman! [Aside. Sir Anth. Then, Jack, her neck! O, Jack, Jack! Abs. And which is to be mine, sir; the niece or the aunt? Sir Anth. Why, you unfeeling, insensible puppy, I despise you! When I was of your age, such a description would have made me fly like a rocket! The aunt, indeed! Odds life! when I ran away with your mother, I would not have touched any thing old or ugly to gain an empire. Abs. Not to please your father, sir? Sir Anth. To please my father! Zounds! not to please- -Oh, my father so! yes, yes; if my father, indeed, had desired -that's quite another matter. Though he was not the indulgent father that I am, Jack. Abs. I dare say not, sir. SCENE II-JULIA's dressing-room. Enter FAULKLAND. Faulk. They told me Julia would return directly; I wonder she is not yet come! How mean does this captions, unsatisfied temper of mine appear to my cooler judgment! Yet I know not that I indulge it in any other point: but on this one subject, and to this one subject, whom I think I love beyond my life, I am ever ungenerously -Od-fretful and madly capricious! I am conscious of it; yet I cannot correct myself! What tender, honest joy sparkled in her eyes when we met! How delicate was the warmth of her expressions! I was ashamed to appear less happy, though I had come resolved to wear a face of coolness and upbraiding. Sir Anthony's presence prevented my proposed expostulations: yet I must be satisfied that she has not been so very happy in my absence. She is coming! Yes! I know the nimbleness of her tread, when she thinks her impatient Faulkland counts the moments of` her stay. Sir Anth. But, Jack, you are not sorry to find your mistress is so beautiful? Abs. Sir, I repeat it, if I please you in this affair, 'tis all I desire. Not that I think a woman the worse for being handsome; but, sir, if you please to recollect, you before hinted something about a hump or two, one eye, and a few more graces of that kind. Now, without being Faulk. Could I, Julia, be contented with my first welcome, restrained as we were by the presence of a third person? Julia. O Faulkland, when your kindness can make me thus happy, let me not think that I discovered something of coldness in your first salutation! 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? Julia. 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 ha! 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 inoment 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. Julia. Must I never cease to tax my Faulkland with this teasing, minute caprice? Can the idle reports of a silly boor weigh in your breast against my tried affection? Yet Faulk. They have no weight with me, Julia: No, no; I am happy if you have been so. only say, that you did not sing with mirth; say that you thought of Faulkland in the dance! Julia. I never can be happy in your absence! If I wear a countenance of content, it is to shew that my mind holds no doubt of my Faulkland's truth. If I seemed sad, it were to make malice triumph; and say, that I had fixed my heart on one, who left me to lament his roving, and my own credulity. 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! O, I am a brute, when I but admit a doubt of your true constancy! Julia. If ever, without such cause from you, as I will not suppose possible, you find my affection 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! Julia. 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. Julia. Where nature has bestowed a show of nice attention in the features of a man, he should laugh at it as misplaced. I have scen 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. Julia. 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. I would not have been more free-no! I am proud of my restraint. Yet, yet-perhaps your high respect alone for this solemn compact has fettered your inclinations, which, else, had made a worthier choice. How shall I be sure, had you remained unbound in thought and promise, that I should still have been the object of your persevering love? Julia. 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 lose your hold, even though I wished it! Julia. Qh, you torture me to the heart! I cannot bear it. Faulk. 1 do not mean to distress you. If I loved you less, I should never give you an uneasy moment. But hear me. All my fretful doubts arise from this. Women are not used to weigh and separate the motives of their affections: the cold dictates of prudence, gratitude, or filial duty, may sometimes be mistaken for the pleadings of the heart. I would not boast; yet let me say, that I have neither age, persou, 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. Juka. I know not whither your insinuations would tend: but as they seem pressing to insuit 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, faith! She is not coming, either. Why, Julia! my love! say but that you forgive me; come but to tell me that; now this is being too resentful: stay! she is coming too; I thought she would: no steadiness in any thing! Her going away must have been a mere trick, then; she shan't see that I was hurt by it. I'll affect indifference---[Hums a tune: then listens.]-No; zounds! She is 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! And be linked, instead, to some antique virago, whose gnawing passions, and long hoarded spleen, shall make me curse my folly half the day, and all the night. [Exit. SCENE III.--MRS MALAPROP's lodgings. Enter MRS MALAPROP, with a letter in her hand, and CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. Mrs Mal. 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. Abs. 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 Mal. Sir, you do me infinite honour! I beg, captain, you'll be seated.-[Sit.]-Ah! few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value the ineffectual 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! Abs. It is but too true, indeed, madam; 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 shew fruit, till time has robbed them of the more specious blossom. Few, like Mrs Malaprop and the orangetr e, are rich in both at once! Mrs Mal. Sir, you overpower me with goodbreeding; he is the very pine-apple of politeness. You are not ignorant, captain, that this giddy girl has somehow contrived to fi her affections on a beggarly, strolling, eve's-dropping ensign, whom none of us have seen, and nobody knows any thing of. Abs. O, I have heard the silly affair before. I am not at all prejudiced against her on that ac count. Mrs Mal. You are very good, and very considerate, captain. I am sure I have done every thing in my power, since I exploded the affair; long ago I laid my positive conjunctions on her, never to think on the fellow again. I have since laid sir Anthony's preposition before her; but, I am sorry to say, she seems resolved to decline every particle that I enjoin her. Abs. It must be very distressing, indeed, madam. Mrs Mal. Oh! it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree! I thought she had persisted 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. Abs. O the devil! my last note. [Aside. Mrs Mal. Ay; here it is. Abs. Ay; my note indeed! O the little traitress Lucy! [Aside. Mrs Mal. There; perhaps you may know the writing. [Gives him the letter. Abs. I think I have seen the hand before; yes, I certainly must have seen this hand beforeMrs Mal. Nay; but read it, captain. Abs. [Reads. My soul's idol; my adored Lydia! Very tender, indeed! Mrs Mal. Tender! ay, and prophane, too, o' my conscience! Abs. I am excessively alarmed at the intelligence you send me; the more so, as my new rival' Mrs Mal. That's you, sir. Abs. Has universally the character of being an accomplished gentleman, and a man of ho'nour.' Well, that's handsome enough. Mrs Mal. O, the fellow has some design in writing so. Abs. That he had; I'll answer for him, ma dam. ly. Mrs Mal. But go on, sir; you'll see present Abs. As for the old weather-beaten she-dra'gon, who guards you,'-Who can he mean by that? Mrs Mal. Me, sir: me: he means me there; what do you think, now? But go on a little further. Abs. 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 coarse features, and deck her dull chat with hard words which she don't understand' Mrs Mal. 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 ! Abs. He deserves to be hanged and quartered! Let me see same ridiculous vanity'Mrs Mal. You need not read it again, sir. Abs. I beg pardon, madam~' does also lay |