sition that has wrung my heart, gives me now a pang more keen than I can express! Faulk. By Heavens! JuliaJulia. Yet hear me. -My father loved you, Faulkland, and you preserved the life that tender parent gave me; in his presence I pledged my hand, joyfully pledged it, where before I had given my heart. When, soon after, I lost that parent, it seemed to me that Providence had, in Faulkland, shewn me whither to transfer, without a pause, my grateful duty, as well as my affection: hence, I have been content to bear from you, what pride and delicacy would have forbid ine from another. I will not upbraid you, by repeating how you have trifled with my sincerity Faulk. I confess it all! yet hear Julia. After such a year of trial, I might have flattered myself that I should not have been insulted with a new probation of my sincerity, as cruel as unnecessary! I now see it is not in your nature to be content, or confident in love. With this conviction, I never will be yours. While I had hopes, that my persevering attention, and unreproaching kindness, might, in time, reform your temper, I should have been happy to have gained a dearer influence over you; but I will not furnish you with a licensed power to keep alive an incorrigible fault, at the expence of one who never would contend with you. Faulk. Nay, but, Julia, by my soul and honour, if, after this Julia. But one word more. As my faith has once been given to you, I never will barter it with another. I shall pray for your happiness with the truest sincerity; and the dearest blessing I can ask of Heaven to send you, will be, to charm you from that unhappy temper, which alone has prevented the performance of our solema engagement. All I request of you is, that you will yourself reflect upon this infirmity; and when you number up the many true delights it has deprived you of, let it not be your least regret, that it lost you the love of one-who would have followed you in beggary through the world. [Erit. Faulk. She's gone for ever! There was an awful resolution in her manner, that rivetted me to my place. O fool! dolt! barbarian! Curst as I am, with more imperfections than my fellow-wretches, kind fortune sent a heaven-gifted cherub to my aid, and, like a ruffiau, I have driven her from my side! I must now haste to my appointment. Well! my mind is tuned for such a scene. I shall wish only to become a principal in it, and reverse the tale my cursed folly put me upon forging here. O Love! tormentor! fiend! Whose influence, like the moon's, acting on men of dull souls, makes idiots of them; but, meeting subtler spirits, betrays their course, and urges sensibility to madness! [Exit FAULK. Enter Maid and LYDIA. Maid. My mistress, madam, I know, was here just now; perhaps she is only in the next room. [Exit maid. Lydia. Heigh ho! Though he has used me so, this fellow runs strangely in my head. I believe one lecture from my grave cousin will make me recal him. Enter JULIA. O, Julia, I am come to you with such an appetite for consolation! Lud! Child, what's the matter with you? You have been crying! I'll be hanged, if that Faulkland has not been tormenting you! Julia. You mistake the cause of my uneasiness! Something has flurried me a little. Nothing that you can guess at. I would not accuse Faulkland to a sister! [Aside. Lydia. Ah! Whatever vexations you may have, I can assure you mine surpass them. You know who Beverley proves to be? Julia. I will now own to you, Lydia, that Mr Faulkland had before informed me of the whole affair. Had young Absolute been the person you took him for, I should not have accepted your confidence on the subject, without a serious endeavour to counteract your caprice. Lydia. So, then, I see I have been deceived by every one! But I don't care; I'll never have him. Julia. Nay, Lydia Lydia. Why, is it not provoking? When I thought we were coming to the prettiest distress imaginable, to find myself made a mere Smithfield bargain of at last! There, had I projected one of the most sentimental elopements! So becoming a disguise! So amiable a ladder of ropes ! Conscious moon-four horses---Scotch parson-with such surprise to Mrs Malaprop--and such paragraphs in the newspapers! O, 1 shall die with disappointment! Julia. I don't wonder at it! Lydia. Now sad reverse! What have I to expect, but, after a deal of flimsy preparation with a bishop's licence, and my aunt's blessing, to go simpering up to the altar; or, perhaps, be cried three times in a country church, and have an unmannerly fat clerk ask the consent of every butcher in the parish to join John Absolute and Lydia Languish, spinster! O, that I should live to hear myself called spinster! Julia. Melancholy, indeed! Lydia. How mortifying, to remember the dear delicious shifts I used to be put to, to gain half a minute's conversation with this fellow! How often have I stole forth, in the coldest night in January, and found him in the garden, stuck like a dripping statue! There would he kneel to me in the snow, and sneeze and cough so pathetically! He shivering with cold, and I with apprehension! And, while the freezing blast numbed our joints, how warmly would he press me to pity his flame, and glow with mutual ardour! Ah, Julia, that was something like being in love! Julia. If I were in spirits, Lydia, I should chide you only by laughing heartily at you; but it suits more the situation of my mind, at present, earnestly to entreat you, not to let a man, who loves you with sincerity, suffer that unhappiness from your caprice, which I know too well caprice can inflict. David. Look'ce, my lady-by the mass, there's mischief going on! Folks don't use to meet for amusement with fire-arms, fire-locks, fire-engines, fire-screens, fire-office, and the devil knows what other crackers beside! This, my lady, I say, has an angry favour. Julia. But who is there beside captain Absolute, friend? David. My poor master-under favour for mentioning him first. You know me, my lady— I am David--and my master of course is, or was, Lydia. O lud! What has brought my aunt'squire Acres. Then comes 'squire Faulkland, here? Enter MRS MALAPROP, FAG, and DAVID. Mrs Mal. So, so! here's fine work! Here's fine suicide, parricide, and simulation going on in the fields! And sir Anthony not to be found to prevent the antistrophe! Julia. For Heaven's sake, madam, what's the meaning of this ? Mrs Mal. That gentleman can tell you: 'twas he enveloped the affair. Lydia. Do, sir; will you inform us? [To FAG. Fag. Madam, I should hold myself very deficient in every requisite that forms the man of breeding, if I delayed a moment to give all the information in my power to a lady so deeply interested in the affair as you are. Lydia. But quick! Quick, sir! Fag. True, madam, as you say, one should be quick in divulging matters of this nature; for shonld we be tedious, perhaps, while we are flourishing on the subject, two or three lives may be lost! Lydia. O patience! Do, madam, for Heaven's sake, tell us what's the matter? Mrs Mal. Why, murder's the matter! Slaughter's the matter! Killing's the matter! But he can tell you the perpendiculars. Lydia. Then, prithee, sir, be brief. Fag. Why, then, madam, as to murder, I cannot take upon me to say; and as to slaughter, or manslaughter, that will be as the jury finds it. Lydia. But who, sir—who are engaged in this? Fag. Faith, madam, one is a young gentleman whom I should be very sorry any thing was to happen to a very pretty-behaved gentleman! We have lived much together, and always on Julia. Do, madam; let us instantly endeavour to prevent mischief! to Mrs Mal. O fie! it would be very inelegant in us: we should only participate things. David. Ah! Do, Mrs Aunt, save a few lives; they are desperately given, believe me. Above all, there is that blood-thirsty Philistine, sir Lucius O'Trigger. Mrs Mal. Sir Lucius O'Trigger! O mercy! Have they drawn poor little dear sir Lucius into the scrape? Why, how you stand, girl! You have no more feeling than one of the Derbyshire putrifactions ! Lydia. What are we to do, madam? Mrs Mal. Why, fly with the utmost felicity, to be sure, to prevent mischief! Here, friend---you can shew us the place? Fag. If you please, madam, I will conduct you. David, do you look for sir Anthony. [Exit DAVID. Mrs Mal. Come, girls; this gentleman will exhort us. Come, sir, you're our envoy; lead the way, and we'll precede. Fag. Not a step before the ladies, for the world! Mrs Mal. You're sure you know the spot? Fag. I think I can find it, madam; and one good thing is, we shall hear the report of the pistols, as we draw near, so we can't well miss them; never fear, madam, never fear. [Exit, he talking. SCENE II.-South Parade. Enter ABSOLUTE, putting his sword under his great coat. Abs. A sword seen in the streets of Bath would raise as great an alarm as a mad dog. How provoking this is in Faulkland! Never punctual! I shall be obliged to go without him at last. O, the devil! Here's sir Anthony! How shall I escape him! [Muffles up his face, and takes a circle to go off. Enter SIR ANTHONY. Sir Anth. How one may be deceived at a little distance! Only that I see he don't know me, I could have sworn that was Jack! Hey! Gad's life! It is. Why, Jack, what are you afraid of? 60 Hey! Sure I'm right. Why, Jack-Jack Abso- | refuses to forgive me, to sheath this sword—and lute! [Goes up to him. swear, I'll fall upon its point, and expire at her Abs. Really, sir, you have the advantage of feet! me: I don't remember ever to have had the honour--my name is Saunderson, at your service. Sir Anth. Sir, I beg your pardon--I took you ---Hey? Why, zounds! It is--Stay [Looks up to his face. So, so! your humble servant, Mr Saunderson! Why, you scoundrel, what tricks are you after now? Abs. O! A joke, sir, a joke! I came here on purpose to look for you, sir. Sir Anth. You did! Well, I am glad you were so lucky; but what are you muffled up so for? What's this for? Hey? Abs. 'Tis cool, sir; isn't it? Rather chilly, somehow but I shall be late---I have a particular engagement. : Sir Anth. Stay. Why, I thought you were looking for me? Pray, Jack, where is't you are going? Abs. Going, sir! Sir Anth. Ay; where are you going? ! Sir Anth. You unmannerly puppy Abs. I was going, sir, to-to-to-to Lydiasir, to Lydia-to make matters up, if I could; and I was looking for you, sir, to-to Sir Anth. To go with you, I suppose? Well, come along. Abs. O, zounds! no, sir, not for the world! I wished to meet with you, sir, to-to-to- -You find it cool, I'm sure, sir-you'd better not stay out. Sir Anth. Cool! not at all. Well, Jack, and what will you say to Lydia? Abs. O, sir, beg her pardon, humour her; promise and vow -But I detain sir-consider the cold air on your gout! you, I Sir Anth. Fall upon a fiddle-stick's end! Why, suppose it is the very thing that would please her-Get along, you fool! Abs. Well, sir, you shall hear of my successyou shall hear.- O, Lydia! forgive me, or this pointed steel, says I! Sir Anth. O, booby! stab away, and welcome, says she-Get along! and damn your trinkets! [Exit ABSOLUTE Enter DAVID, running. David. Stop him! Stop him! Murder! Thief! Fire! Stop fire! stop fire!-0, sir Anthony!call, call! Bid him stop! Murder! Fire! Sir Anth. Fire! Murder! where? David. Oons! he's out of sight! and I'm out of breath, for my part! O, sir Anthony, why didn't you stop him? why didn't you stop him? Sir Anth. Zounds! the fellow's mad! Stop whom? stop Jack? David. Ay, the captain, sir!—there's murder and slaughter! Sir Anth. Murder! David. Ay, please you, sir Anthony, there's all kinds of murder, all sorts of slaughter, to be seen in the fields! There's fighting going on, sir -bloody sword and gun fighting! Sir Anth. Who are going to fight, dunce? David. Every body that I know of, sir Anthony! every body is going to fight my poor master; sir Lucius O'Trigger, your son, the captain! Sir Anth. O, the dog! I see his tricks-Do you know the place? David. King's Mead-fields. David. Not an inch; but I'll call the mayor, aldermen, constables, church-wardens, and beaSir Anth. O, not at all, not at all-I'm in nodles---we can't be too many to part them! hurry. Ah! Jack, you youngsters, when once you are wounded here! [Putting his hand to ABSOLUTE'S breast.] Hey! what the deuce have you got here? Abs. Nothing, sir, nothing! Sir Anth. What's this? -here's something damned hard! Abs. O, trinkets, sir, trinkets! a bauble for Lydia! Sir Anth. Nay; let me see your taste. [Pulls his coat open, the sword falls.] Trinkets! a bauble for Lydia-Zounds, sirrah, you are not going to cut her throat, are you? Sir Anth. Come along; give me your shoulder-we'll get assistance as we go-The lying villain! Well, I shall be in such a frenzy!-So, this was the history of his trinkets! I'll bauble him! [Exeunt. SCENE III.-King's Mead-fields. SIR LUCIUS and ACRES, with pistols. Sir Luc. Is it for muskets or small field-pieces? Abs. Ha, ha, ha! I thought it would divert you, Upon my conscience, Mr Acres, you must leave sir, though I did not mean to tell you till after-those things to me. Stay now, I'll show you : wards. Sir Anth. You did not?-Yes, this is a very diverting trinket, truly! Abs. Sir, I'll explain to you. You know, sir, Lydia is romantic-devilish romantic, and very absurd, of course :————— -now, sir, I intend, if she [Measures paces along the stage.] There, now, that is a very pretty distance-a pretty gentleman's distance. Acres. Zounds! we might as well fight in a sentry-box! I tell you, sir Lucius, the farther he is off, the cooler I shall take my aim. Sir Luc. Faith! then I suppose you would aim | at him best of all, if he was out of sight! Acres. No, sir Lucius: but I should think forty, or eight-and-thirty yards Sir Luc. Pho, pho! nonsense! three or four feet between the mouths of your pistols is as good as a mile! Acres. Odds bullets, no! By my valour, there is no merit in killing him so near! do, my dear sir Lucius, let me bring him down at a long shot -a long shot, sir Lucius, if you love me! Sir Luc. Well; the gentleman's friend and I must settle that. But tell me, now, Mr Acres, in case of an accident, is there any little will or commission I could execute for you? Acres. I am much obliged to you, sir Lucius; but I don't understand Sir Luc. Why, you may think there's no being shot at without a little risk; and, if an unlucky bullet should carry a quietus with it-I say, it will be no time then to be bothering you about family matters. Acres. A quietus! Sir Luc. For instance, now-if that should be the case, would you choose to he pickled and sent home? or would it be the same to you to lie here in the abbey?-I'm told there is very snug lying in the abbey. Acres. Pickled!-Snug lying in the Abbey !— Odds tremors! sir Lucius, don't talk so! Sir Lue. I suppose, Mr Acres, you never were engaged in an affair of this kind before? Acres. No, sir Lucius, never before. Sir Luc. Ah, that's a pity! there's nothing like being used to a thing.- -Pray, now, how would you receive the gentleman's shot? Acres. Odds files! I've practised that—There, sir Lucius, there [Puts himself in an attitude.] -a side front, hey?—Odd! I'll make myself small enough—I'll stand edge-ways. Sir Luc. Now, you're quite out; for if you stand so when I take my aim-[ Levelling at kim.] Acres. Zounds! sir Lucius are you sure it is not cocked? Sir Luc. Never fear. Acres. But-but-you don't know-it may go off of its own head! Sir Luc. Pho! be easy-Well, now, if I hit you in the body, my bullet has a double chance -for if it misses a vital part of your right side, 'twill be very hard if it don't succeed on the left! Acres. A vital part! Sir Luc. But, there-fix yourself so— [Placing him.] let him see the broad-side of your full | front-there-now, a ball or two may pass clean through your body, and never do any harm at all! Acres. Clean through me !—a ball or two clean through me! Sir Luc. Ay may they-and it is much the genteelest attitude into the bargain. Acres. Look'e! sir Lucius--I'd just as lieve be shot in an aukward posture as a genteel one -So, by my valour! I will stand edge-ways. Sir Luc. [Looking at his watch.] Sure they don't mean to disappoint us-Hah!-no faithI think I see them coming. Acres. Hey!-what!—coming! Sir Luc. Ay-Who are those yonder getting over the stile? Acres. There are two of them, indeed!well, let them come-hey, sir Lucius?-we-we -we--we-won't run. Sir Luc. Run! Acres. No-I say we won't run, by my valour! Sir Luc. What the devil's the matter with you? Acres. Nothing-nothing-my dear friendmy dear sir Lucius-but I-I-I don't feel quite so bold, somehow-as I did. Sir Luc. O fic! consider your honour. Acres. Ay-true-my honour!-Do, sir Lucius, edge in a word or two, every now and then, about my honour. Sir Luc. Well, here they're coming. [Looking. Acres. Sir Lucius-if I was not with you, I should almost think I was afraid-if my valour should leave me !-Valour will come and go. Sir Luc. Then, pray keep it fast, while you have it. Acres. Sir Lucius, I doubt it is going-yesmy valour is certainly going!--it is sneaking off! I feel it oozing out, as it were, at the palms of my hands! Sir Luc. Your honour--your honour!-Here they are! Acres. O mercy!-now that I was safe at Clod-Hall! or could be shot before I was aware! Enter FAULKLAND and ABSOLUTE. Sir Luc. Gentlemen, your most obedient.Ha! what, captain Absolute !---So, I suppose, sir, you are come here just like myself—to do a kind office, first for your friend, then to proceed to business on your own account? Acres. What, Jack!--my dear Jack!--my dear friend! Abs. Heark'e, Bob, Beverley's at hand. Sir Luc. Well, Mr Acres, I don't blame your saluting the gentleman civilly.--So, Mr Beverley, [To FAULKLAND.] if you'll choose weapons, the captain and I will measure the ground. Faulk. My weapons, sir! Acres. Odds life! sir Lucius, I'm not going to fight Mr Faulkland-These are my particular friends, Sir Luc. What, sir, did not you come nerc to fight Mr Acres? Faulk. Not I, upon my word, sir! Sir Luc. Well, now, that's mighty provoking! But I hope, Mr Faulkland, as there are three of us come on purpose for the game, you won't be so cantanckerous as to spoil the party by sitting out? Abs. O pray, Faulkland, fight to oblige sir Lucius. Faulk. Nay, if Mr Acres is so bent on the matter Acres. No, no, Mr Faulkland-I'll bear my disappointment like a Christian. Look'e, sir Lucius, there's no occasion at all for me to fight; and, if it is the same to you, I'd as lieve let it alone. Sir Luc. Observe me, Mr Acres, I must not be trified with. You have certainly challenged somebody-and you came here to fight him-Now, if that gentleman is willing to represent him, I can't see, for my soul, why it is not just the same thing. Acres. Why, no-sir Lucius-I tell you 'tis one Beverley I've challenged—a fellow, you see, that dare not show his face! If he were here, I'd make him give up his pretensions directly! Abs. Hold, Bob-let me set you right.—There is no such man as Beverley in the case. The person who assumed that name is before you ; and, as his pretensions are the same in both characters, he is ready to support them in whatever way you please. Sir Luc. Well, this is lucky.-Now you have an opportunity Acres. What! quarrel with my dear friend Jack Absolute--not if he were fifty Beverley's! Zounds! sir Lucius, you would not have me so unnatural. Sir Luc. Upon my conscience, Mr Acres, your valour has oozed away with a vengeance! |will resign the lady, without forcing you to proceed against him? Abs. Come on, then, sir [Draws.]; since you won't let it be an amicable suit, here's my reply! Enter SIR ANTHONY, DAVID, and the Women. David. Knock them all down, sweet sir Anthony-knock down my master in particular-and bind his hands over to their good behaviour! Sir Anth. Put up, Jack, put up, or I shall be in a phrenzy---How came you in a duel, sir? Abs. Faith, sir, that gentleman can tell you better than I! 'twas he called on me; and, you know, sir, I serve his majesty. Sir Anth. Here's a pretty fellow! I catch him going to cut a man's throat, and he tells me, he serves his majesty!-Zounds! sirrah, then how durst you draw the king's sword against one of his subjects? Abs. Sir, I tell you! That gentleman called me out, without explaining his reasons. Sir Anth. Gad, Sir! how came you to call my son out, without explaining your reasons? Sir Luc. Your son, sir, insulted me in a manner which my honour could not brook. Sir Anth. Zounds! Jack, how durst you insult the gentleman in a manner which his honour could not brook? Mrs Mal. Come, come, let's have no honour before ladies; Captain Absolute, come here— How could you intimidate us so? Here's Lydia has been terrified to death for you. Abs. For fear I should be killed, or escape, Mrs Mal. Nay, no delusions to the pastLydia is convinced; speak, child. Acres. Not in the least! Odds backs and abet-madam? tors! I'll be your second with all my heart--and, if you should get a quietus, you may command me entirely. I'll get you snug lying in the abbey here; or pickle you, and send you over to Blun-in a word here; I believe I could interpret the derbuss-hall, or any thing of the kind, with the young lady's silence-Now mark— greatest pleasure. Sir Luc. Pho, pho! you are little better than a coward. Acres. Mind, gentlemen, he calls me a coward! Coward was the word, by my valour ! Sir Luc. Well, sir? Sir Luc. With your leave, madam, I must put Lydia. What is it you mean, sir? Sir Luc. Come, come, Delia, we must be serious now; this is no time for trifling. Lydia. Tis true, sir; and your reproof bids me offer this gentleman my hand, and solicit the return of his affections. Abs. O my little angel, say you so?-Sir Lucius, I perceive there must be some mistake Acres. Look'e, sir Lucius, 'tis not that I mind the word coward--coward may be said in joke-But if you had called me a poltroon, odds dag-here-with regard to the affront which you gers and balls Sir Luc. Well, sir? Acres. I should have thought you a very illbred man. Sir Luc. Pho! you are beneath my notice. Abs. Nay, sir Lucius, you can't have a better second than my friend Acres-He is a most determined dog-called in the country, Fighting Bob.---He generally kills a man a week! Don't you, Bob? Acres. Ay; at home! affirm I have given you. I can only say, that it could not have been intentional.-And as you must be convinced, that I should not fear to support a real injury-you shall now see that I am not ashamed to atone for an inadvertency-I ask your pardon.-But for this lady, while honoured with her approbation, I will support my claim against any man whatever. Sir Anth. Well said, Jack, and I'll stand by you, my boy! Acres. Mind, I give up all my claim—I make Sr Luc. Well, then, captain, 'tis we must be-no pretensions to any thing in the world—and if gi --so come out, my little counsellor [Draws I can't get a wife, without fighting for her, by my his sword.], and ask the gentleman, whether he valour, I'll live a bachelor. |