페이지 이미지

Our father will put cast away a life

My father's friends, impatient for a passage, So needful to us all, and to his country.

Accuse the lingering winds, a sail arriv’d He is retir'd to rest, and seems to cherish

From Pompey's son, who through the realms of Spain Thoughts full of peace. He has despatch'd me hence Calls out for vengeance on his father's death, With orders that bespeak a mind compos'd,

And rouses the whole nation up to arms. And studious for the safety of his friends.

Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome* Marcia, take care that none disturb his slumbers. Assert her rights and claim her liberty. (Exit Porcius.

(Groans are heard. Mar. O, ye immortal powers, that guard the just, But hark! what means that groan ?-O give me way, Watch round his couch, and soften his repose ! And let me fly into my father's presence. Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul

(Exit Porcius. With easy dreams! Remember all les virtues, Luci. Cato amidst his slumbers, thinks on Rome, And shew mankind that goodness is your care! And in the wild disorder of his soul Enter LUCIA.

Mourns o'er his country:- (Groans again.

Hah! a second groan !-Heaven guard us all!
Luc. Where is your father, Marcia? Where is Mar. Alas! 'tis not the voice

Of one who sleeps: 'tis agonizing pain,
Mar. Lucia, speak low:-he is retir'd to rest. 'Tis death is in that sound.
My friend, I feel a gentle dawning hope
Rise in my soul: we may be happy still.

Enter Porcius, advances between Marcia and Juba.
Luc. Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato; Por. O sight of woe!
In every view, in every thought, I tremble. O Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass !
Cato is stern, and awful as a god:

Cato has fallen upon his sword He knows not how to wink at human frailty,

Luci. O Porcius,
Or pardon weakness that he never felt.

Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,
Mar. Though stern and awful to the foes of Rome, | And let us guess the rest.
He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild,

Por. I've rais'd him up,
Compassionate and geatle, to his friends :

And plac'd him in his chair; where, pale and faint, Fill'd with domestic tenderness—the best,

He gasps for breath, and, as his life fows from him, The kindest father! I have ever found him Demands to see his friends. His servants weeping, Easy, and good, and bounteous to my wishes. Obsequious to his orders, bear him hither.

Luc. 'Tis his consent alone can make us happy. Mar. 0 Heaven, assist me in this dreadful hour But who knows Cato's thoughts?

To pay the last sad duties to my father !
Who knows how yet he may dispose of Porcius ?
Or how he has determin'd of thyself ?

Enter two Freedmen leading Cato, supported Mar. Let him but live, commit the rest to heaven.

by his two Freedmen.- Two first Freed

men remove the table, and remain by it.Enter Lucius.

MARCIA runs to assist Caro. Takes his Luci. Sweet are the siumbers of the virtuous man.

right arm and helps to bring him to his O Marcia, I have seen thy god-like father:

chair. Some power invisible supports his soul,

Juba. These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, 0, And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.

Cæsar! A kind refreshing sleep has fallen upon him:

Luci. Now is Rome fallen indeed! I saw him stretch'd at ease, his fancy lost

Cato. Here set me down.In pleasing dreams: as I drew near his couch,

Porcius, come near me ;-are my friends embark'a ? He smil'd, and cried, Cæsar, thou canst not hurt me. Can any thing be thought of for their service ? Mar. His mind still labours with some dreadful | Whilst yet I live, let me not live in vain.thought.

O Lucius, art thou here?- Thou art too good! Enter JUBA,

Let this our friendship live between our children;

Make Porcius happy in thy daughter Lucia.Juba. Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from Alas, poor man, he weeps ! --Marcia, my daughter viewing

O bend me forward !-Juba loves thee, Marcia. The number, strength, and posture of our foes, A senator of Rome, while Rome surviv'd, Who now encamp within a short hour's march. Would not have match'd his daughter with a king; On the high point of yon bright western tower But Cæsar's arms have thrown down all distinction: We ken thema from afar; the setting sun

Whoe'er is brave and virtuous, is a Roman.Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets, I'm sick to death.-0, when shall I get loose And covers all the field with gleams of fire. From this vain world, the abode of guilt and sorrow! Luci

, Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father, And yet, methinks, a beam of light breaks in Cæsar is still dispos'd to give us terms;

On my departing soul.--Alas! I fear, And waits at distance, till he hears from Cato. I've been too hasty.— ye powers, that search Enter PORCIUS.

The heart of man, and weigh his inmost thoughts,

If I have done amiss, impute it not !Porcius, thy looks speak somewhat of importance. The best may err-but you are good, and oh! What tidings dost thou bring? Methinks, I see

Livres. Unusual gladness sparkling in thy eyes.

1 Por. As I was hasting to the port, where now






so old as you'd make me by more than one good year.

Add twenty to twenty, and make many of that. Sir CHARI.ES Marlow.

Hard. Let me see: twenty added to twenty make HARDCASTLE.

just fifty and seven. YOUNG MARLOW.

Mrs. H. Its false, Mr. Hardcastle! I was but HASTINGS.

twenty when I was brought to-bed of Tony; that I Tony LUMPKIN.

had by Mr Lumpkin, my first husband; and he's SERVANTS, &c.

not come to years of discretion yet. Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, Miss HARDCASTLE.

you have taught him finely. Miss NEVILLE

Mrs. H. No matter: Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his learning. I don't think a boy wants much learning to spend fifteen hundred a-year.

Hard. Learning, quotha! a mere composition of ACT ).

tricks and mischief.

Mrs. H. Humour, my dear; nothing but humour. SCENE 1.–4 Chamber in an old-fashioned house. little humour.

Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a

Hard. I'd sooner allow him a horse-pond. If Enter HARDCASTLE and Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

burning the footman's shoes, frighting the maids, Mrs. H. I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very par- worrying the kittens, be humour, he has it. It was ticular. Is there a creature in the whole country, but yesterday he fastened my wig to the back of my but ourselves, that does not take a trip to town now chair; and when I went to make a bow, I popp'd my and then, to rub off the rust a little? There's the bald head into Mrs. Frizzle's face. two Miss Hoggs, and our neighbour, Mrs. Grigsby, Mrs. H. And am I to blame? The poor boy was go to take a month's polish every winter.

always too sickly to do any good. A school would be Hard. Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation his death. When he comes to be a little stronger, to last them the whole year. I wonder why London who knows what a year or two's latin may do for cannot keep its own folks at home. In my time, him? the follies of the town crept slowly among us; but Hard. Latin for him! A cat and fiddle. No, no; now they travel faster than a stage-coach. Its fop- the alehouse and the stable are the only schools he'll pries come down, not only as inside passengers, but ever go to. in the very basket.

Mrs. H. Well, we must not snub the poor boy; Mirs H. Ay; your times were fine times, indeed; for I believe we sha’n't have him long among us. you have been telling us of them for many a long Any body that looks in his face may see he's conyear. Here we live in an old, rumbling mansion, sumptive. that looks for all the world like an inn, but that we Hard. Ay, if growing fat be one of the symptoms. never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Mrs. H. He coughs sometimes. Oddfish, the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the Hard. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way. lame dancing-master; and all our entertainment, Mrs. H. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. your old stories of Prince Eugene and the Duke of Hard. And truly so am I; for he sometimes Marlborough. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery. whoops like a speaking-trumpet. (Tony hallooing

Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's behind the scenes,) Oh! there he goes. A very conold: old friends, old times, old manners, old books, sumptive figure truly! old wine; and I believe, Dorothy, (taking her hand) you'll own I have been pretty fond of an old wife.

Enter Tony, crossing the stage. Mrs. H. Lud! Mr. Hardcastle, you're for ever at Mrs. H. Where are you going, my charmer ? your Dorothy's, and your old wives. You may be a Won't you give papa and'I a little of your company, Darby, but I'll be no Joan, I promise you. I'm not'lovce ?

going forward.

[ocr errors]


Tony. I'm in haste, mother; I can't stay.

Miss H. My dear papa, say no more. (Kissing Mrs. H. You sha'n't venture out this raw evening, his hand.) He's mine; i'll have him. my dear. You look most shockingly.

Hard. And, to crown all, Kate, he's one of the 'Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pigeons most bashful, reserved young fellows in the world. expect me down every moment. There's some fun Miss H. Eh! you have frozen me to death again.

That word " reserved" has undone all the rest of his Hard. Ay, the alehouse; the old place : I thought accomplishments. A reserved lover, it is said, al

ways makes a suspicious husband. Mrs. H. A low, paltry set of fellows.

Hard. On the contrary, modesty seldom resides in Tony. Not so low, neither. There's Dick Mug- a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues. It gins, the exciseman; Jack Slang, the horse-doctor; was the very feature in his character that first struck little Aminadab, that grinds the music-box; and Tom Twist, that spins the pewter-platter.

Miss H. He must have more striking features to Mrs. H. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one catch me, I promise you. However, if he be so night, at least.

young, so handsome, and so every thing, as you Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not mention, I believe he'll do still. I think o'll have so much mind; but I can't abide to disappoint my- him. self.

Hard. Ay, Kate; but there is still an obstacle.Mrs. H. (Detaining him.) You sha'n't go. It's more than an even wager he may not have you. Tony. I will, I tell you.

Miss H. My dear papa, why will you mortify one Mrs. H. I say, you sha'n't.

so? Well if he refuse, instead of breaking my Tony. We'll see which is the strongest, you or I. heart at his indifference, I'll only break my glass

(Evit, hauling her out. for its flattery; set my cap to some newer fashion, Hard. Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil each and look out for some less difficult admirer. other. But is not the whole age in a combination Hard. Bravely resolved! In the meantime, I'll to drive sense and discretion out of doors ?. There's go prepare the servants for his reception. As we my pretty darling Kate; the fashions of the times seldom see company, they want as much training as have almost infected her, too. By living a year or a company of recruits the first day's muster. [Erit

. two in town, she is as fond of gauze and French Miss H. Lud! this news of papa's puts me all in frippery as the best of them.

a flutter. Young, handsome : these he puts last, but

I put them foremost. Sensible, good-natured; I Enter Miss HARDCASTLE.

like all that. But, then, reserved and sheepish;Blessings on my pretty innocence! Dressed out as that's much against him. Yet can't he be cured of usual, my Kate. Goodness! what a quantity of his timidity, by being taught to be proud of his wife ? superfluous silk hast thou got about thee, girl! Yes; and can't 1—But I vow I am disposing of the could never teach the fools of this age, that the in- husband before I have secured the lover. digent world could be clothed out of the trimmings of the vain.

Enter Miss NEVILLE. Miss H. You know our agreement, sir. You allow I'm glad you're come, Neville, my dear. Tell me, me the morning to receive and pay visits, and to Constance, how do I look this evening? Is there dress in my own manner; and, in the evening, I put any thing whimsical about me? Is it one of my on my housewife's dress to please you.

well-looking days, child ? Am I in face to-day? Hard. Well, remember, I insist on the terms of Miss N. Perfectly, my dear. Yet, now I look our agreement; and, by the bye, I believe I shall again-bless me ! sure no accident has happened hare occasion to try your obedience this very even- among the canary-birds or the gold-fishes. Has ing.

your brother or the cat been meddling? Or has the Miss H. I protest, sir, I don't comprehend your last novel been too moving? meaning.

Miss H. No; nothing of all this. I have been Hard. Then, to be plain with you, Kate, I expect threatened—I can scarce get it out I have been the young gentleman I have chosen to be your hus- threatened with a lover. band from town this very day. I have his father's Miss N. And his name letter, in which he informs me his son is set out, and Miss H, Is Marlow. that he intends to follow him shortly after.

Miss N. Indeed ! Miss H. Indeed! I wish I had known something Miss H. The son of Sir Charles Marlow. of this before. Bless me! how shall I behave ? It's Miss N. As I live, the most intimate friend of a thousand to one I sha’n’t like him. Our meeting Mr. Hastings, my admirer. They are never asunwill be so formal, and so like a thing of business, der. I believe you must have seen him when we that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem. lived in town.

Hard. Depend upon it, child, I'll never control Miss H. Never, your choice; but Mr. Marlow, whom I have pitched Miss N. He's a very singular character, I assure upon, is the son of my old friend, Sir Charles Mar- you. Among women of reputation and virtue, he is low, of whom you have heard me talk so often. The the modestest man alive; but his acquaintance give young gentleman has been bred a scholar, and is him a very different character among women of anodesigned for an employment in the service of his ther stamp. You understand me! country. I am told he's a man of an excellent Miss H. An odd character, indeed. I shall never understanding.

be able to manage him. What shall I do? Psha! Miss H. Is he ?

think no more of him; but trust to occurrences for Hard. Very generous.

success. But how goes on your own affair, my dear? Miss H. I believe I shall like him.

Has my mother been courting you for my brother Hard. Young and brave.

Tony, as usual ? Miss H. I'm sure I shall like him.

Miss N. I have just come from one of our agree. Hard And very handsome.

able tête-à-têtes. She has been saying a hundred

tender things, and setting off her pretty monster as 3d Fel. Oh! den any thing that's low; I can't the very pink of perfection.

bear it. Miss I. And her partiality is such, that she ac- 4th Fel. The genteel thing is the genteel thing at tually thinks him so. A fortune like your's is no any time, if so be that a gentleman bees in a consmall temptation. Besides, as she has the sole ma catenation accordingly. nagement of it, I'm not surprised to see her unwil. 3d Fel. I like the maxim of it, Master Muggins. ling to let it go out of the family.

What! though I am obligated to dance a bear, a Miss N. A fortune like mine, which chiefly con- man may be a gentleman for all that. May this be sists in jewels, is no such mighty temptation.- my poison, if my bear ever dances but to the very But, at any rate, if my dear Hastings be but con- genteelest of tunes-"Water parted," or the minuet stant, I make no doubt to be too hard for her at last. in Ariadne. However, I let her suppose that I am in love with 2d Fel. What a pity it is the 'squire is not come her son; and she never once dreams that my affec- to his own. It would be well for all the publicans tions are fixed upon another.

within ten miles round him. Miss H. My good brother holds out stoutly. I Tony. Ecod! and so it would, Master Slang. I'd could almost love him for hating you so.

then shew what it was to keep choice company Miss N. It is a good-natured creature at bottom; 2d Fel. Oh! he takes after his own father for and I'm sure would wish to see me married to any that. To be sure, old 'Squire Lumpkin was the body but himself. But my aunt's bell rings for our finest.gentleman I ever set my eyes on. For windafternoon's walk round the improvements. Allons! ing the strait-horn, or beating a thicket for a hare, or Courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical. a wench, he never had his fellow. It was a saying

Miss H. Would it were bed-time, and all were in the place, that he kept the best horses, dogs, and well.

(Ereunt. girls in the whole county.

Tony. Ecod! and when I'm of age I'll be no SCENE II.-An Ale-house room.

bastard, I promise you. I have been thinking of

Bet Bouncer, and the miller's grey mare, to begin Sereral shabby fellows, with punch and tobacco. Tony with. But come, my boys, drink about and be

at the head of the table, a little higher than the merry, for you pay no reckoning. Well, Stingo, rest : a mallet in his hand.

what's the matter? AN. Hurra! hurra! hurra! bravo!

Enter LANDLORD. 1st Fel. Now, gentleinen, silence for a song. The Land. There be two gentlemen, in a post-chaise 'squire is going to knock himself down for a song. at the door. They've lost their way upon the forest, All. Ay; a song, a song.

and they are talking something about Mr. Hard. Tony." Then I'll sing you, gentlemen, a song I castle. made upon this alehouse, the Three Pigeons.

Tony. As sure as can be, one of them must be

the gentleman that's coming down to court my sisSONG-TONY.

Do they seem to be Londoners ?

Land. I believe they may. They look woundily Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain,

like Frenchmen. With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;

Tony. Then desire them to step this way, and I'll Good liquor, I stoutly maintain.

set them right in a twinkling. Gives genius a better discerning.

[Erit Landlord. Let them brag of their Heathenish gods,

Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough company Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians:

for you, step down for a momeat, and I'll be with Their quis, and their quæs, and their quods,

you in the squeezing of a lemon. (Ereunt Mob. They're all but a parcel of pigeons.

Father-in-law has been calling me a whelp and Toroddle, toroddle, toroll hound, this half-year. Now, if I pleased, I could b

so revenged upon the old grumbletonian. But then When methodist preachers come down

I am afraid-afraid of what? I shall soon be worth A preaching that drinking is sinful,

fifteen hundred a-year, and let him friglon me out I'll wager the rascals a crown

of that, if he can. They always preach best with a skinful. But when you come down with your pence, Enter Landlord, conducting MARLOW and HASTINGS.

For a slice of their scurvy religion, I'll leave it to all men of sense,

Mar. What a tedious, uncomfortable day have we

had of it! We were told it was but forty miles But you, my good friend, are the pigeon.

across the country, and we have come about threeToroddle, toroddle, toroll. Then, come, put the jorum about,

Hust. And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable And let us be merry and clever;

reserve of your's, that would not let us inquire more Our hearts and our liquors are stout

frequently on the way. Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons for evcr.

Mar. I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay myLet some cry up woodcock or hare,

self under an obligation to every one I meet; and Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons; often stand the chance of an unmannerly answer. But of all the birds in the air,

Hast. At present, however, we are not likely to Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons.

receive any answer. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. Tony. No offence, gentlemen ; but I'm told you

have been inquiring for one Mr. Hardcastle, in these AN. Bravo, bravo!

parts. Do you know what part of the country you 1st Fel. The squire has got spunk in him. are in?

2d Fel. I loves to hear him sing, bekase he never Hast. Not in the least, sir; but should thank you gives us nothing that's low.

for information.




Tony. Nor in the way you came?

Tony. Mum! you fool, you; let them find that Hast. No, sir; but if you can inform us

out. (To them.] You have only to keep on straight Tony, Why, gentlemen, if you know neither the forward till you come to a large house on the road road you are going, nor where you are, nor the road side : you'll see a pair of large horns over the door: you came, the first thing I have to inform you is, that that's the sign. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly -you have lost your way.

about you, Mar. We wanted no ghost to tell us that.

Hast. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants Tony. Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold as to can't miss the way. ask the place from whence you came ?

Tony. No, no : but I'll tell you though, the land. Mar. That's not necessary towards directing us lord is rich, and going to leave off business: so he where we are to go.

wants to be thought a gentleman, saving your preTony. No offence; but question for question is sence, he, he, he! He'll be for giving you his all fair, you know. Pray, gentlemen, is not this company; and, ecod ! if you mind him, he'il persuade same Hardcastle, a cross-grain’d, old-fashion'd, you that his mother was an alderman, and his aunt whimsical fellow, with an ugly face, a daughter, and a justice of peace, a pretty son ?

Land. A troublesome old blade, to be sure; but a Hast. We have not seen the gentleman; but he keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole has the family you mention.

county. Tony. The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trolloping,

Mar. Well, if he supplies us with these, we no further connexion.

We are to talkative, maypolc; the son, a pretty, well-bred, shall want agreeable youth, that everybody is fond of.

turn to the right, did you say? Mar. Our information differs in this : the daughter Tony. No, no, straight forward. I'll just step, is said to be well-bred and beautiful; the son, an myself

, and shew you a piece of the way. [To the awkward booby, reared up and spoiled at his mother's Landlord.), Mum! apron-string.

Land. Åh, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasant Tony. He-he-hem. Then, gentlemen, all I have ---d mischievous son of a w—! [Aside. [Edit. to tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. Hardcastle's house this night, I believe. Hast. Unfortunate!

ACT II. Tony. It's a d-d long, dark, boggy, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. SCENE I.-An old-fashioned House. Hardcastle's (winking at the Landlord)-Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire-marsh. You understand me. Enter HardcaSTLE, followed by three or four awkward

Land. Master Hardcastle's? Lack-a-daisy! my masters, you're come a deadly deal wrong. When Hard. Well, I hope you are perfect in the table you came to the bottom of the hill, you should have exercise I have been teaching you these three days. cross'd down Squash-lane.

You all know your posts and your places; and can Mar. Cross down Squash-lane ?

shew that you have been used to good company, Land. Then you were to keep straight forward without stirring from home. till you came to the four roads.

AU. Ay, ay. Mar. Come to where four roads meet ?

Hard. When company comes you are not to pop Tony. Ay; but you must be sure to take only one. out and stare, and then run in again, like frighted Mar. Oh, sir! you're facetious.

rabbits in a warren. Tony. Then, keeping to the right, you are to go AU. No, no. sideways till you come upon Crack-skull common; Hard. You, Diggory, whom I have taken from there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, the barn, are to make a shew at the side-table ; and and go forward till you come to farmer Murrain's you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, barn. Coming to the farmer's barn, you are to turn are to place yourself behind my chair. “But you're to the right, and then to the left, and then to the not to stand so, with your hands in your pockets. right about again, till you find out the old mill- Take your hands from your pockets, Roger; and

Mar. Zounds! man, we could as soon find out the from your head, you blockhead you. See how longitude !

Diggory carries his hands: they're a little too stiff, Hast. What's to be done, Marlow ?

indeed, but that's no great matter. Mar. This house promises but a poor reception; Dig. Ay, mind how I hold them; I learned to hold though, perhaps, the landlord can accommodate us, my hands this way when I was upon drill for the

Land. Alack, master! we have but one spare bed militia; and so being upon drillin the whole house.

Hard. You must not be so talkative, Diggory; Tony. And, to my knowledge, that's taken up by you must be all attention to the guests : you must three lodgers already. After a pause, in which the hear us talk, and not think of talking; you must rest seen disconcerted.] I have hit it: don't you see us drink, and not think of drinking; you must think, Stingo, our landlady would accomodate the gen-sce us eat, and not think of eating. tlemen by the fireside, with three chairs and a bolster ? Dig. By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly Hast. I hate sleeping by the fireside.

unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees eating going Mar. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster. forwards, ecod! he's always wishing for a mouthfui

Tony. You do, do you? Then let me see—what himself. if you go on a mile further, to the Bucks Head, the Hard. Blockhead! is not a bellyful in the kitchen old Buck's Head, on the hill, one of the best inns in as good as a bellyful in the parlour ? Stay your the whole country

stomach with that reflection. Hast. O ho! so, we have escaped an adventure for Dig. Ecod! I thank your worship, I'll make a this night, however.

shift to stay my stomach with a slice of cold beef in Land. (Apart to Tony.) Sure you bean't sending the pantry, them to your father's as an inn, be you?

Hard Diggory, you're too talkative. Then if I

« 이전계속 »