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Miss D. Cousin Plainway, this insult is intolerable. I'll not stay in your house another hour.

Plain. Nay, but, my dear Laury, I didn't expect that truth would give offense. We'll leave Mr. Fain would to make our peace with you.

Did. [aside.] Leave me alone with her! Oh, the devil!

Peg. Aye, do, Mr. Fainwould, endeavor to pacify her-pray induce her to continue a little longer "the beautiful maid at the foot of the hill." [Exeunt PLAINWAY and PEGGY through D. F. MISS DURABLE and DIDDLER look sheepishly at each other.

Did. [aside.] I'm included in the quiz, as I'm a gentleman. [To her.] My dear madame, how Could you

Miss D. How could I what, sir?

Did. Wear a pocket with a hole in it?

Miss D. I wear no pockets which caused the fatal accident. But, sir, I trust it is an accident that will cause no change in your affection.

Did. [aside.] D--n it! now she's going to be amorous. [To her.] None in the world, madame. I assure you I love you as much as ever I did. Miss D. I fear my conduct is very imprudent. If you should be discovered

Did. It's not at all unlikely, madame, that I am already. [Aside.] Now she'll be boring me for explanations. I must get her among them again. [To her.] Or, if I am not, if we don't take great care I soon shall be; therefore, for better security, I think we'd better immediately join

Miss D. Oh, dear, sir! so soon? I declare, you quite agitate me with the idea.

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Did. You misunderstand me; I

Miss D. You astonish me, sir! no ceremony, indeed! And would you, then, take advantage of my too susceptible heart to ruin me? Would you rob me of my innocence? would you despoil me of my honor? Cruel, barbarous, inhuman man! [Affects to faint.

Did. [supporting her.] Upon my soul, madame, I would not interfere with your honor on any account. [Aside.] I must make an outrageous speech; there's nothing else will make her easy. [Falls on his knees.] Paragon of premature divinity! what instrument of death or torture can equal the dreadful power of your frowns? Poison, pistols, pikes,

Enter PEGGY at door, listening. steel-traps and spring-guns, the thumb-screw or lead-kettle, the knout or cat-o'-nine-tails, are impotent, compared with the words of your indignation! Cease, then, to wound by them a heart whose affection for you nothing can abate; whose

Peg. [comes down c., interrupting him, and showing him letter.] So, sir, this is your fine effusion, and this is the fruit of it. False, infamous man! [Retires up. Did. [aside to MISS DURABLE.] I told you so. You'd better retire, and I'll contrive to get off. My dear Miss Plainway[Crosses to C.

Peg. Don't dear me, sir-I've done with you!

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Did. [aside.] Here's a breeze! This is raising the wind with a vengeance. [Aloud.] My dear Miss Plainway, I--a- My dear Miss Durable[aside] pray retire; in five minutes I will come to you in the garden and explain all to your satisfaction.

Miss D. And if you don't—
Did. Oh, I will; now, do go.

Peg. And you, too, madame; aren't you ashamed

Miss D. Don't talk to me in that style, miss; it ill becomes me to account for my conduct to you, and I shall therefore leave you with perfect indifference to make your own construction. [To him.] You'll find me in the gardon, sir. [Exit L.

Did. [aside.] Floating in the fish-pond, I hope. [To PEGGY.] My dear Peggy, how could you for a moment believe

Peg. I'll not listen to you. I'll go and expose you to my father immediately. He'll order the servants to toss you in a blanket, and then to kick you out of doors.

Did. [holding her.] So, between two stools, poor Jeremy comes to the ground at last. Now, Peggy, my dear Peggy, I know I shall appease you. [He takes her hand.] That letter-I did write that letter. But as a proof that I love you, and only you, and that I will love you as long as I live, I'll run away with you directly. Peg. Will you, this instant?

Did. I'll hire a post-chaise immediately. [Aside.] That is, if I can get credit for one. Peg. Go and order it.

Did. I'm off! [Going.] Nothing but disasters! here's the cockney coming back in a terrible rage, and I shall be discovered.

Peg. How unlucky! Couldn't you get rid of him again?

Did. Keep out of the way, and I'll try. [She retires at R. D. F. Enter FAINWOULD, R.

Fain. So, sir

Did. How do you do again, sir? Hasn't my servant left you three and four pence yet? Bless my soul, how stupid!

Fain. Sir, I want to see Mr. Plainway.

Did. Do you, sir? that's unlucky-he's just gone out to take a walk into the fields. Look through that window, and you may see him! there, you see, just under that hedge; now he's getting over a stile. If you like to follow him with me, I'll introduce him to you; but you'd better call again.

Fain. Sir, I see neither a hedge nor a stile, and I don't believe a word you say. Did. [with affected dignity.]

word I say, sir!

Fain. No, sir.

Don't believe a

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Did. You shan't, sir?

Fain. No, sir-my business is with Mr. Plainway. I've a post-chaise waiting for me at the door, and therefore have no time to lose.

Did. A post-chaise waiting at the door, sir? Fain. Yes, sir; the servant told me Mr. Plainway was within, and I'll find him, too, or I'm very much mistaken. [Exit L.

Did. A post-chaise waiting at the door! we'll bribe the postboy and jump into it. Peg. [coming forward.] Charming! Did. Now, who shall I borrow a guinea of, to bribe the postboy! [Exit PEGGY.

Enter JOHN, L.

John. Has that gentleman found my master, sir?

Did. Oh, yes, John, I showed him into the drawing-room. [JOHN is going.] Stop, John, step this way. Your name is John, isn't it? John. Yes, sir.

Did. Well, how d'ye do, John? Got a snug place here, John?

John. Yes, sir, very snug.

Did. Aye-good wages, good 'vails, eh?
John. Yes, sir, very fair.

Did. Um-you haven't got such a thing as a guinea about you, have you?

John. No, sir.

Did. Aye-that's all, John, I only asked for information. [Exit JOHN, R.] 'Gad, I said a civil thing or two to the gardener just now. I'll go and try him; and, to prevent all further rencontres, make my escape through the garden gate. [Going L.

Enter MISS DUrable, l.

Oh, Lord! here is old innocence again. Miss D. Well, sir, I'm all impatience for this explanation. So you've got rid of Miss Peggy Did. Yes, I have pacified her, and she's retired to the-drawing-room. I was just coming toyou haven't got such a thing as a guinea about you, madame, have you? A troublesome postboy, that drove me this morning, is teazing me for his money. You see I happened, unfortunately, to change my small

Miss D. Oh, these things will happen, sir. [Gives a purse.] There's my purse, sir; take whatever you require.

Did. I'm robbing you, ma'am.

Miss D. Not at all-you know you'll soon return it.

Did. [aside.] That's rather doubtful. [To her.] I'll be with you again, madame, in a moment.

[Going L. Miss D. What, sir! So even your postboys are to be attended to before me?

Did. Ma'am!

Miss D. But I see through your conduct, sir. This is a mere expedient to avoid me again. This is too much!

Did. [aside.] What the devil shall I do now? Oh! oh, dear! oh, Lord!

Miss D. What's the matter?

Did. Your cruelty has so agitated me-I faint a little water-a little water will recover me. [Falls into a chair.] Pray get me a little water! Miss D. Bless me, he's going into hysterics. Help, help! John, Betty, a little water immediately! [Exit R. DIDDLER runs off L.

Enter FAINWOULD from L. D. F.

Fain. Nowhere to be found. So, Mr. Diddler gone now. They've found me out by my letter, and avoid me on purpose. But I'll not stir out of the house till I see Mr. Plainway, I'm determined; so I'll sit myself quietly down. [Sits down in the chair DIDDLER has left.] I'll make the whole family treat me with a little more respect, I warrant. Enter MISS DURABLE, hastily, R., with a glass of water, which she throws in his face. She screams; he rises in a fury.

Miss D. Here, my love. Ah!

Fain. [L.] Damnation, madame! what d'ye

mean?

Miss D. [R.] Oh, dear, sir! I took you for another gentleman.

Fain. Nonsense, madame! you couldn't mean to serve any gentleman in this way. Where is Mr. Plainway? treatment.

I'll have satisfaction for this

Enter PLAINWAY, through R. D. F. Plain. [comes down, c.] Heyday, heyday, cousin! Why, who is this gentleman, and what is all this noise about?

Miss D. [R.] I'm sure, cousin, I don't know who the gentleman is. All that I can explain is, that Mr. Fainwould was taken ill in that chair; that I went to get some water to recover him; and the moment after, when I came back, I found his place occupied by that gentleman.

Fain. [L.] Madame, this is no longer a time for bantering. You found Mr. Fainwould's place occupied by me, who am Mr. Fainwould; and you found him suffering no illness at all, though you wanted to give him one.

Plain, and Miss D. You Mr. Fainwould!

Fain. Yes, sir; and you've found out by this time, I suppose, that I'm perfectly acquainted with all your kind intentions towards me that I know of your new son-in-law, Sir Robert Rental -that I am informed I am to make merriment

for you-and that, if I'm refractory, your nephew, Mr. Diddler, is to pull my nose.

Plain. Sir Robert Rental, and my nephew, Mr. Diddler! Why, Laury, this is some madman broke loose. My dear sir, I haven't a nephew in the world, and never heard of such people as Sir Robert Rental or Mr. Diddler in the whole course of my life.

Fain. This is amazing!

Plain. It is, upon my soul! You say your name is Fainwould?

Fain. Certainly!

Plain. Then nothing but the appearance of the other Mr. Fainwould can solve the riddle. Fain. The other Mr. Fainwould?

Plain. Yes, sir; there is another gentleman so calling himself now in this house; and he was bearer of a letter of introduction from

Fain. My letter of introduction! The rascal picked my pocket of it, in this very house, this morning. I see through it all! I dare say your house is robbed by this time.

Pain. A villain! Why, where is he, cousin? Here, John-where are all the servants? [Rings a bell.

Enter JOHN, R.

Plain. Where is Mr. Fainwould?

John. What, the other, sir?

Plain. The other, sir? Then you knew this gentleman's name was Fainwould and you never told me he was here this morning?

John. Yes, sir, I did; I sent you to him.
Plain. You sent me to the other fellow.
John. No, sir, I did not let in the other.
Plain. I suppose he got in at the window, then.
But where is he now ?

John. I'm sure I don't know, sir; but I thought that gentleman was gone.

Fain. Why did you think so, sir?

John. Because, sir, the chaise is gone that you came in.

Plain. What!
Fain. Gone!

John. Yes, sir.

Plain. Why, then, the rascal's run off in it!
And Peg-where is she? where is my daughter?
Miss D. Gone with him, cousin.
John. Here they are, sir.

[Exit R. Enter DIDDLER, PEGGY and SAM, DIDDLER dancing and singing, R.

But my angry uncle has, on his death-bed, relented. This fine fat-headed fellow arrested our flight through the town, to put into my hand this letter, announcing the handsome bequest of ten thousand pounds, and enclosing me a hundred pound note as earnest of his sincerity.

Plain. Um!-I imagine you are the Mr. Mortimer she sometimes sighs about.

Did. The same, sir. At Bath, under that name, and under somewhat better appearances, I had the honor to captivate her. Hadn't I, Peggy?

Peg. And isn't Mortimer your name?

Did. No, my dear; my legitimate appellation is Mr. Diddler.

Peg. What am I to have a lover of the name of Diddler?

Sam. [R.] I'm sure Mrs. Diddler is a very pretty name.

Did. Don't be rude, Sam.

man.

Plain. Well, sir, your promises are fair, there's no denying; but whether it would be fair to attend to them depends entirely upon that gentle[To FAINWOuld. Fain. [L.] As for me, Mr. Plainway, if your Did. Thank ye, sir; but it's changed already. daughter has taken a fancy for another, I can't Sam, pay my debts to that young man, three help it. Only let her refuse me respectfully, and and four pence, [pointing to FAINWOULD] and I am satisfied.

Plain. Sing away, my brave fellow-I'll soon change your note.

give him credit for a breakfast on my account! Did. [c.] You are a very sensible fellow, and Ah, my dear old innocence ! [TO MISS DURABLE.] we have all a very high respect for you. Fain. I'm satisfied. There's your purse again! When I'm at leisure shall have your explanation.

you

Miss D. Oh, false Adonis!

Plain. And now, sir, what have you to answer

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Did. But I shall not be satisfied without the hope that all such poor, idle rogues as I have been may learn, by my disgraceful example

Howe'er to vice or indolence inclined,
By honest industry to RAISE THE WIND.

THE END.

COSTUMES.

PLAINWAY.-Dark brown old man's suit, white stockings, | RICHARD.-Gray livery coat, buff waistcoat, breeches, brown gouty shces.

FAINWOULD.-Dark green coat, white waistcoat, nankeen trousers, boots.

JEREMY DIDDLER.-An old dark blue coat, torn at the elbows, and buttoned close to the throat, buff waistcoat, orange worsted pantaloons, small nankeen gaiters, shoes, old lowcrowned hat.

SAM.-Drab countryman's coat, buff breeches, gray worsted stockings, country inan's hat.

gaiters.

WAITER.-Blue coat, trousers, white waistcoat.
JOHN.-Dark brown livery, blue stockings.
PEGGY.-White muslin dress, pink sash, black shoes.

MISS DURABLE.-Dark red muslin dress, light blue sash, cap
with pink ribbon and rose.

THE NEW YORK DRAMA

TRAGEDIES,

A CHOICE COLLECTION

OF

COMEDIES,

WITH

FARCES, ETC..

CASTS OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c.,

ADAPTED TO

THE HOME CIRCLE, PRIVATE THEATRICALS, AND THE AMERICAN STAGE.

VOL. 3.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by WHEAT & CORNETT, in the Office
of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

NO. 25.

o'clock; then I have four hours-very pleasant

PLOTS FOR PETTICOATS: prospect in a country village.

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SCENE I.-Room in an Inn.
HARRY ATHERTON discovered ringing bell violently.
Harry. [R.] The devil take all the bells, wait-
ers and taverns in the kingdom! [Rings again.
Enter WAITER, L. 1 E.

Waiter. Coming, sir!
Harry. Coming, sir! confound you-you might
have come from London since I began ringing.
change this detestable wine! My teeth are on edge,
it's so plaguy sour.

Waiter. [aside.] I think it's your temper's sour.

[Exit L.

Harry. [calling.] And bring me a paper, if you have one in this execrable hole. I certainly am in a charming frame of mind-out of humor with myself, everybody and everything. Oh, Caroline, Caroline-that I am dying for you is something more than a fiction; for, by Jove, if this state of things lasts much longer, I shall certainly blow my brains out!

turb me.

Waiter. [without, L.] This way, sir! Harry. Now some blockhead's coming to disDeuce take him! I hope he'll give me a chance of picking a quarrel with him, for I must let off steam somehow. [Sits at table, back to L. Enter WAITER, with wine and paper, L., FRANK FINISH following.

Frank. Bring me a pint of sherry, my lad, and a cigar. [Sits R.

Waiter. Yes, sir. [Places wine and paper for HARRY, and exit. Harry. Ugh! I thought so-the very paper I didn't want to see!

Frank. Now, how can I amuse myself till this train starts? Let me see, [looks at watch] two

Enter WAITER, with wine, L., and exit. Harry. [growling.] Ugh!-trash-contemptible-ass-mass of lies!

Frank. [lighting cigar. Aside.] My intellectual companion seems out of temper. [Coughing. Harry. [turning savagely round.] How the devil do you expect me to read, sir, while you sit coughing there? What-Frank!

Frank. My dear Harry! What most lucky chance brought you here?

Harry. Oh, the most spiteful trick that ever Fortune played a poor devil!

Frank. Ah, Dame Fortune's not the only lady concerned, I'll swear. Confess!

Harry. No, my dear fellow, there is a woman in the case-one of Nature's choicest, most lovely—

Frank. Excuse me, I can imagine her-every me know what extraordinary circumstance has man's mistress is the same in description. Let brought the fashionable Harry Atherton into a village a hundred miles from London.

Harry. You shall. I

Frank. A sketch, mind—I don't want a threevolume novel.

Harry. Well, then, I am in love with a lady.
Frank. That's natural enough so far. Proceed.
Harry. And the lady is in love with me.
Frank. The lady exhibits taste.
Harry. Thank you. But her father is deter-
mined she shall marry somebody else.

Frank. A thing fathers are much given to, but
which the many blunders they have made ought
to have cured them of by now.
Leave young
hearts to themselves, say I-they're pretty sure to
couple rightly; and if they don't the fault's their
own, and theirs be the consequences.

Harry. And the worst of it is, the man who is to rob me of my mistress is not even an Englishman. To be foiled by a foreigner-it's unbearable! Frank. What is he, pray?

Harry. Oh, hang him, an American! and there's some consolation in that. Frank. Well, he speaks English, at any rate,

Harry. Yes; if you call their villainous jargon English.

Frank. Does the lady care for him at all?

Harry. It would be rather strange if she did, considering she has never seen him. I received a note from her in town, saying that he was expected over in a week, begging me to come down and contrive some means of seeing her, for I believe the dear creature would run off with me

Harry. Ha, ha, ha! that must have softened her. Frank. The woman was flint, sir. I tried that for two days; at last I got tired of imprisonment and darkness, and resolved at once to plunge her into the abyss of hopeless despair by inserting my death in the papers!

Harry. Did you do it?

rather than have him. I've been down here ever since. Not a glimpse can I get of her. The old man, knowing of our attachment, and chancing to meet me, has kept her strictly confined ever since. Frank. The American is some friend of his, then? Harry. The father is; this man he has never seen; but it appears it has been a settled thing between the fathers-and the son comes over to Frank. Why, no on reflection I thought it keep a promise he never made, and marry a would be useless, as she didn't know my name. I woman he never saw. So, you see, I'm in despair! determined to show her I could be as indifferent Frank. Why, the case has a deucedly awkward look, I admit; but wait a minute, let me consider! Harry. Oh, how can you help me? I've been considering myself these four days.

Frank. You say the old fellow doesn't know his son-in-law elect?

Harry. No.

Frank. Neither does he know me. Why shouldn't I be your American rival? Rest assured I shall not become your English one!

Harry. Impossible! How could

Frank. Oh, never fear! I came down here on a voyage of fun-private theatricals at Scarborough -lots of wardrobe with me; and as to the Yankee dialect, I've not been in the country for nothing. Harry. But what is to be the benefit of your scheme?

Frank. What! Why, disgust the old man and his daughter too, to be sure, and get turned out of the house. Old boy in rage-knows you're at hand-as I go out you go in-and

Harry. It may answer, upon my soul! Frank. May Must-shall! I never fail-leave it to me.

Harry. My dear Frank, only do this for me effectually, and

Frank. I know-you'll turn Turk or Ojibbeway for me when I want it. Done! After our chat, I'll go at once. Do you know, I really am somewhat touched myself?

Harry. How's that?

Frank. Oh, a woman again, of course; for I can most conscientiously affirm, that in all my scrapes and their name is legion-a woman has had a hand somehow or other. Opposite my apartments in town lived, for a short time, a young lady to whom, to this hour, I have never spoken. You'd hardly conceive the pains I took to catch her. First of all, I leant out of the window by the hour, till I got such a violent crick in the neck I couldn't turn my head for a week; but for the matter of that she had turned it for me, so it didn't signify. Harry. Well!

Frank. Well! Then I dressed at her! tried every conceivable color and pattern; nearly ruined myself with coats, and was on the verge of bankruptcy with waistcoats; devil a bit of notice would she take.

Harry. So you gave her up?

Frank. Not I, faith! I thought I'd appeal to her tenderness and pity--though I began to doubt whether she had any-so I whitened my face, and sat at the window all day wrapped up in a flannel dressing-gown.

Harry. Ah!

Frank. Devil a bit of use! In fact, though I wouldn't swear it, I thought I saw her laughing. Harry. Heartless hussy! Well?

Frank. I had one more trial. I drew down all the blinds, muffled the knocker, and had the street laid with straw.

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as herself, and next morning a friend dropping in, we lounged to the window with cigars in our mouths, to laugh and chat under her very nose, when, to my horror, a traveling-carriage drew up at the door, trunks were piled, in stepped my inexorable mistress, doors banged, whips cracked, and she was gone.

Harry. Devilish pleasant! have you not seen her since?

Frank. How should I? Where am I to looknorth, south, east or west? I hope, by the bye, it isn't your mistress by any chance.

Harry. I'll answer for that; she hasn't been in town these two years.

Frank. I'm glad of that; but these things happen deuced oddly sometimes. But now for our scheme. I'll go and make myself as like a Yankee as possible. By the bye, what's my name? Harry. Samson Cipher; but I'll give you all the particulars while you dress.

Frank. And I'll arrange our plan of attack, and it shall be no fault of mine if I am not unceremoniously kicked out. [Exeunt L.

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SIR ANDREW, CAROLINE and Rose, R. Sir A. [c.] Girls, girls, girls! do you wish to worry me out of my mind?

Caroline. [R.] No, papa; but you wish to worry me out of mine.

Rose. [R.] How can you be so cruel, uncle, as to sacrifice poor Caroline to one man, when she is devoted to another?

Sir A. I know her interest, Rose-a steady, quiet merchant is more likely to ensure her happiness than a wild, rackety spendthrift.

Caroline. But I don't want to be happy, papaI only want to marry Mr. Atherton.

Sir A. Pooh, pooh! you girls don't know what you do want.

Caroline. I do, papa. It's too bad to make me marry a great stupid American.

Sir A. Wrong, child; no American is stupid. If they have any fault, it is that they are too clever by half.

Caroline. I hate clever men, especially I hate an American; for my part, I wonder how any woman can endure one.

Sir A. And yet America contrives to get populated, for all that.

Caroline. But consider, papa, I have never seen him.

Sir A. Then how can you dislike him? I have never seen him, and I love him already.

Caroline. Yes, papa, but you are not going to help to populate America.

Sir A. Hold your tongue, Caroline, you know I'm not to be contradicted; he'll be here in a week, so make up your mind to receive a husband shortly.

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