Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan

by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

  Mrs. MALAPROP Now don’t attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I have proof controvertible of it. — But tell me, will you promise to do as you’re bid? Will you take a husband of your friends’ choosing?

  LYDIA Madam, I must tell you plainly, that had I no preferment for any one else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

  Mrs. MALAPROP What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don’t become a young woman; and you ought to know, that as both always wear off, ’tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion. I am sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage as if he’d been a blackamoor — and yet, miss, you are sensible what a wife I made! — and when it pleased Heaven to release me from him, ’tis unknown what tears I shed! — But suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you promise us to give up this Beverley?

  LYDIA Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my actions would certainly as far belie my words.

  Mrs. MALAPROP Take yourself to your room. — You are fit company for nothing but your own ill-humours.

  LYDIA

  Willingly, ma’am — I cannot change for the worse. [Exit.]

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  There’s a little intricate hussy for you!

  Sir ANTHONY

  It is not to be wondered at, ma’am, — all this is the natural

  consequence of teaching girls to read. Had I a thousand daughters, by

  Heaven! I’d as soon have them taught the black art as their alphabet!

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  Nay, nay, Sir Anthony, you are an absolute misanthropy.

  Sir ANTHONY In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece’s maid coming forth from a circulating library! — She had a book in each hand — they were half-bound volumes, with marble covers! — From that moment I guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  Those are vile places, indeed!

  Sir ANTHONY Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge! It blossoms through the year! — And depend on it, Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will long for the fruit at last.

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  Fy, fy, Sir Anthony! you surely speak laconically.

  Sir ANTHONY Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation now, what would you have a woman know?

  Mrs. MALAPROP Observe me, Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning; I don’t think so much learning becomes a young woman; for instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek, or Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or paradoxes, or such inflammatory branches of learning — neither would it be necessary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instruments. — But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice. Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts; — and as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might know something of the contagious countries; — but above all, Sir Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not mis-spell, and mis-pronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do; and likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know; — and I don’t think there is a superstitious article in it.

  Sir ANTHONY Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with you; though I must confess, that you are a truly moderate and polite arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side of the question. But, Mrs. Malaprop, to the more important point in debate — you say you have no objection to my proposal?

  Mrs. MALAPROP None, I assure you. I am under no positive engagement with Mr. Acres, and as Lydia is so obstinate against him, perhaps your son may have better success.

  Sir ANTHONY

  Well, madam, I will write for the boy directly. He knows not a syllable

  of this yet, though I have for some time had the proposal in my head.

  He is at present with his regiment.

  Mrs. MALAPROP We have never seen your son, Sir Anthony; but I hope no objection on his side.

  Sir ANTHONY Objection! — let him object if he dare! — No, no, Mrs. Malaprop, Jack knows that the least demur puts me in a frenzy directly. My process was always very simple — in their younger days, ’twas “Jack, do this”; — if he demurred, I knocked him down — and if he grumbled at that, I always sent him out of the room.

  Mrs. MALAPROP Ay, and the properest way, o’ my conscience! — nothing is so conciliating to young people as severity. — Well, Sir Anthony, I shall give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your son’s invocations; — and I hope you will represent her to the captain as an object not altogether illegible.

  Sir ANTHONY Madam, I will handle the subject prudently. — Well, I must leave you; and let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this matter roundly to the girl. — Take my advice — keep a tight hand: if she rejects this proposal, clap her under lock and key; and if you were just to let the servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four days, you can’t conceive how she’d come about. [Exit.]

  Mrs. MALAPROP Well, at any rate, I shall be glad to get her from under my intuition. She has somehow discovered my partiality for Sir Lucius O’Trigger — sure, Lucy can’t have betrayed me! — No, the girl is such a simpleton, I should have made her confess it. — Lucy! — Lucy! — [Calls.] Had she been one of your artificial ones, I should never have trusted her.

  [Re-enter LUCY.]

  LUCY

  Did you call, ma’am?

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  Yes, girl. — Did you see Sir Lucius while you was out?

  LUCY

  No, indeed, ma’am, not a glimpse of him.

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  You are sure, Lucy, that you never mentioned ——

  LUCY

  Oh gemini! I’d sooner cut my tongue out.

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  Well, don’t let your simplicity be imposed on.

  LUCY

  No, ma’am.

  Mrs. MALAPROP So, come to me presently, and I’ll give you another letter to Sir Lucius; but mind, Lucy — if ever you betray what you are entrusted with (unless it be other people’s secrets to me), you forfeit my malevolence for ever; and your being a simpleton shall be no excuse for your locality. [Exit.]

  LUCY Ha! ha! ha! — So, my dear Simplicity, let me give you a little respite. — [Altering her manner.] Let girls in my station be as fond as they please of appearing expert, and knowing in their trusts; commend me to a mask of silliness, and a pair of sharp eyes for my own interest under it! — Let me see to what account have I turned my simplicity lately. — [Looks at a paper.] For abetting Miss Lydia Languish in a design of running away with an ensign! — in money, sundry times, twelve pound twelve; gowns, five; hats, ruffles, caps, &c., &c., numberless! — From the said ensign, within this last month, six guineas and a half. — About a quarter’s pay! — Item, from Mrs. Malaprop, for betraying the young people to her — when I found matters were likely to be discovered — two guineas, and a black paduasoy. — Item, from Mr. Acres, for carrying divers letters — which I never delivered — two guineas, and a pair of buckles. — Item, from Sir Lucius O’Trigger, three crowns, two gold pocket-pieces, and a silver snuff-box! — Well done, Simplicity! — Yet I was forced to make my Hibernian believe, that he was corresponding, not with the aunt, but with the niece; for though not over rich, I found he had too much pride and delicacy to sacrifice the feelings of a gentleman to the necessities of his fortune. [Exit.]

  ACT II

  Scene I.

  CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE’s Lodgings. [CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE and FAG.]

  FAG Sir, while I was there Sir Anthony came in: I told him you had sent me to inquire after his health, and to know if he was at leisure to see you.

  ABSOLUTE

  And what did he say, on hearing I was
at Bath?

  FAG Sir, in my life I never saw an elderly gentleman more astonished! He started back two or three paces, rapped out a dozen interjectural oaths, and asked, what the devil had brought you here.

  ABSOLUTE

  Well, sir, and what did you say?

  FAG Oh, I lied, sir — I forgot the precise lie; but you may depend on’t, he got no truth from me. Yet, with submission, for fear of blunders in future, I should be glad to fix what has brought us to Bath; in order that we may lie a little consistently. Sir Anthony’s servants were curious, sir, very curious indeed.

  ABSOLUTE

  You have said nothing to them?

  FAG Oh, not a word, sir, — not a word! Mr. Thomas, indeed, the coachman (whom I take to be the discreetest of whips) ——

  ABSOLUTE

  ‘Sdeath! — you rascal! you have not trusted him!

  FAG Oh, no, sir — no — no — not a syllable, upon my veracity! — He was, indeed, a little inquisitive; but I was sly, sir — devilish sly! My master (said I), honest Thomas (you know, sir, one says honest to one’s inferiors,) is come to Bath to recruit — Yes, sir, I said to recruit — and whether for men, money, or constitution, you know, sir, is nothing to him, nor any one else.

  ABSOLUTE

  Well, recruit will do — let it be so.

  FAG Oh, sir, recruit will do surprisingly — indeed, to give the thing an air, I told Thomas, that your honour had already enlisted five disbanded chairmen, seven minority waiters, and thirteen billiard-markers.

  ABSOLUTE

  You blockhead, never say more than is necessary.

  FAG I beg pardon, sir — I beg pardon — but, with submission, a lie is nothing unless one supports it. Sir, whenever I draw on my invention for a good current lie, I always forge indorsements as well as the bill.

  ABSOLUTE Well, take care you don’t hurt your credit, by offering too much security. — Is Mr. Faulkland returned?

  FAG

  He is above, sir, changing his dress.

  ABSOLUTE

  Can you tell whether he has been informed of Sir Anthony and Miss

  Melville’s arrival?

  FAG

  I fancy not, sir; he has seen no one since he came in but his

  gentleman, who was with him at Bristol. — I think, sir, I hear Mr.

  Faulkland coming down ——

  ABSOLUTE

  Go, tell him I am here.

  FAG Yes, sir. — [Going.] I beg pardon, sir, but should Sir Anthony call, you will do me the favour to remember that we are recruiting, if you please.

  ABSOLUTE

  Well, well.

  FAG And, in tenderness to my character, if your honour could bring in the chairmen and waiters, I should esteem it as an obligation; for though I never scruple a lie to serve my master, yet it hurts one’s conscience to be found out. [Exit.]

  ABSOLUTE Now for my whimsical friend — if he does not know that his mistress is here, I’ll tease him a little before I tell him ——

  [Enter FAULKLAND.]

  Faulkland, you’re welcome to Bath again; you are punctual in your return.

  FAULKLAND Yes; I had nothing to detain me, when I had finished the business I went on. Well, what news since I left you? how stand matters between you and Lydia?

  ABSOLUTE Faith, much as they were; I have not seen her since our quarrel; however, I expect to be recalled every hour.

  FAULKLAND

  Why don’t you persuade her to go off with you at once?

  ABSOLUTE What, and lose two-thirds of her fortune? you forget that, my friend. — No, no, I could have brought her to that long ago.

  FAULKLAND Nay then, you trifle too long — if you are sure of her, propose to the aunt in your own character, and write to Sir Anthony for his consent.

  ABSOLUTE Softly, softly; for though I am convinced my little Lydia would elope with me as Ensign Beverley, yet am I by no means certain that she would take me with the impediment of our friends’ consent, a regular humdrum wedding, and the reversion of a good fortune on my side: no, no; I must prepare her gradually for the discovery, and make myself necessary to her, before I risk it. — Well, but Faulkland, you’ll dine with us to-day at the hotel?

  FAULKLAND

  Indeed I cannot; I am not in spirits to be of such a party.

  ABSOLUTE By heavens! I shall forswear your company. You are the most teasing, captious, incorrigible lover! — Do love like a man.

  FAULKLAND

  I own I am unfit for company.

  ABSOLUTE Am I not a lover; ay, and a romantic one too? Yet do I carry every where with me such a confounded farrago of doubts, fears, hopes, wishes, and all the flimsy furniture of a country miss’s brain!

  FAULKLAND Ah! Jack, your heart and soul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on one only object. You throw for a large stake, but losing, you could stake and throw again; — but I have set my sum of happiness on this cast, and not to succeed, were to be stripped of all.

  ABSOLUTE But, for heaven’s sake! what grounds for apprehension can your whimsical brain conjure up at present?

  FAULKLAND What grounds for apprehension, did you say? Heavens! are there not a thousand! I fear for her spirits — her health — her life! — My absence may fret her; her anxiety for my return, her fears for me may oppress her gentle temper: and for her health, does not every hour bring me cause to be alarmed? If it rains, some shower may even then have chilled her delicate frame! If the wind be keen, some rude blast may have affected her! The heat of noon, the dews of the evening, may endanger the life of her, for whom only I value mine. O Jack! when delicate and feeling souls are separated, there is not a feature in the sky, not a movement of the elements, not an aspiration of the breeze, but hints some cause for a lover’s apprehension!

  ABSOLUTE

  Ay, but we may choose whether we will take the hint or not. — So, then,

  Faulkland, if you were convinced that Julia were well and in spirits,

  you would be entirely content?

  FAULKLAND

  I should be happy beyond measure — I am anxious only for that.

  ABSOLUTE Then to cure your anxiety at once — Miss Melville is in perfect health, and is at this moment in Bath.

  FAULKLAND

  Nay, Jack — don’t trifle with me.

  ABSOLUTE

  She is arrived here with my father within this hour.

  FAULKLAND

  Can you be serious?

  ABSOLUTE I thought you knew Sir Anthony better than to be surprised at a sudden whim of this kind. — Seriously, then, it is as I tell you — upon my honour.

  FAULKLAND My dear friend! — Hollo, Du-Peigne! my hat. — My dear Jack — now nothing on earth can give me a moment’s uneasiness.

  [Re-enter FAG.]

  FAG

  Sir, Mr. Acres, just arrived, is below.

  ABSOLUTE Stay, Faulkland, this Acres lives within a mile of Sir Anthony, and he shall tell you how your mistress has been ever since you left her. — Fag, show this gentleman up.

  [Exit FAG.]

  FAULKLAND

  What, is he much acquainted in the family?

  ABSOLUTE Oh, very intimate: I insist on your not going: besides, his character will divert you.

  FAULKLAND

  Well, I should like to ask him a few questions.

  ABSOLUTE He is likewise a rival of mine — that is, of my other self’s, for he does not think his friend Captain Absolute ever saw the lady in question; and it is ridiculous enough to hear him complain to me of one Beverley, a concealed skulking rival, who ——

  FAULKLAND

  Hush! — he’s here.

  [Enter ACRES.]

  ACRES Ha! my dear friend, noble captain, and honest Jack, how do’st thou? just arrived, faith, as you see. — Sir, your humble servant. — Warm work on the roads, Jack! — Odds whips and wheels! I’ve travelled like a comet, with a tail of dust all the way as long as the Mall.

  ABSOLUTE

  Ah! Bob, you are indeed an eccentric p
lanet, but we know your

  attraction hither. — Give me leave to introduce Mr. Faulkland to you; Mr.

  Faulkland, Mr. Acres.

  ACRES Sir, I am most heartily glad to see you: sir, I solicit your connections. — Hey, Jack — what, this is Mr. Faulkland, who ——

  ABSOLUTE

  Ay, Bob, Miss Melville’s Mr. Faulkland.

  ACRES Odso! she and your father can be but just arrived before me: — I suppose you have seen them. Ah! Mr. Faulkland, you are indeed a happy man.

  FAULKLAND I have not seen Miss Melville yet, sir; — I hope she enjoyed full health and spirits in Devonshire?

  ACRES Never knew her better in my life, sir, — never better. Odds blushes and blooms! she has been as healthy as the German Spa.

  FAULKLAND

  Indeed! I did hear that she had been a little indisposed.

  ACRES False, false, sir — only said to vex you: quite the reverse, I assure you.

  FAULKLAND There, Jack, you see she has the advantage of me; I had almost fretted myself ill.

  ABSOLUTE

  Now are you angry with your mistress for not having been sick?

  FAULKLAND No, no, you misunderstand me: yet surely a little trifling indisposition is not an unnatural consequence of absence from those we love. — Now confess — isn’t there something unkind in this violent, robust, unfeeling health?

  ABSOLUTE

  Oh, it was very unkind of her to be well in your absence, to be sure!

  ACRES

  Good apartments, Jack.

  FAULKLAND Well, sir, but you was saying that Miss Melville has been so exceedingly well — what then she has been merry and gay, I suppose? — Always in spirits — hey?

  ACRES Merry, odds crickets! she has been the belle and spirit of the company wherever she has been — so lively and entertaining! so full of wit and humour!

  FAULKLAND There, Jack, there. — Oh, by my soul! there is an innate levity in woman, that nothing can overcome. — What! happy, and I away!

  ABSOLUTE Have done. — How foolish this is! just now you were only apprehensive for your mistress’ spirits.

  FAULKLAND

  Why, Jack, have I been the joy and spirit of the company?

  ABSOLUTE

  No, indeed, you have not.

  FAULKLAND