Have I been lively and entertaining?
ABSOLUTE
Oh, upon my word, I acquit you.
FAULKLAND
Have I been full of wit and humour?
ABSOLUTE
No, faith, to do you justice, you have been confoundedly stupid indeed.
ACRES
What’s the matter with the gentleman?
ABSOLUTE He is only expressing his great satisfaction at hearing that Julia has been so well and happy — that’s all — hey, Faulkland?
FAULKLAND
Oh! I am rejoiced to hear it — yes, yes, she has a happy disposition!
ACRES That she has indeed — then she is so accomplished — so sweet a voice — so expert at her harpsichord — such a mistress of flat and sharp, squallante, rumblante, and quiverante! — There was this time month — odds minims and crotchets! how she did chirrup at Mrs. Piano’s concert!
FAULKLAND There again, what say you to this? you see she has been all mirth and song — not a thought of me!
ABSOLUTE
Pho! man, is not music the food of love?
FAULKLAND Well, well, it may be so. — Pray, Mr. — , what’s his damned name? — Do you remember what songs Miss Melville sung?
ACRES
Not I indeed.
ABSOLUTE Stay, now, they were some pretty melancholy purling-stream airs, I warrant; perhaps you may recollect; — did she sing, When absent from my soul’s delight?
ACRES
No, that wa’n’t it.
ABSOLUTE
Or, Go, gentle gales! [Sings.]
ACRES Oh, no! nothing like it. Odds! now I recollect one of them — My heart’s my own, my will is free. [Sings.]
FAULKLAND Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on such a trifler! ‘Sdeath! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to soothe her light heart with catches and glees! — What can you say to this, sir?
ABSOLUTE
Why, that I should be glad to hear my mistress had been so merry, sir.
FAULKLAND Nay, nay, nay — I’m not sorry that she has been happy — no, no, I am glad of that — I would not have had her sad or sick — yet surely a sympathetic heart would have shown itself even in the choice of a song — she might have been temperately healthy, and somehow, plaintively gay; — but she has been dancing too, I doubt not!
ACRES
What does the gentleman say about dancing?
ABSOLUTE
He says the lady we speak of dances as well as she sings.
ACRES
Ay, truly, does she — there was at our last race ball ——
FAULKLAND Hell and the devil! There! — there — I told you so! I told you so! Oh! she thrives in my absence! — Dancing! but her whole feelings have been in opposition with mine; — I have been anxious, silent, pensive, sedentary — my days have been hours of care, my nights of watchfulness. — She has been all health! spirit! laugh! song! dance! — Oh! damned, damned levity!
ABSOLUTE For Heaven’s sake, Faulkland, don’t expose yourself so! — Suppose she has danced, what then? — does not the ceremony of society often oblige ——
FAULKLAND Well, well, I’ll contain myself — perhaps as you say — for form sake. — What, Mr. Acres, you were praising Miss Melville’s manner of dancing a minuet — hey?
ACRES Oh, I dare insure her for that — but what I was going to speak of was her country-dancing. Odds swimmings! she has such an air with her!
FAULKLAND Now disappointment on her! — Defend this, Absolute; why don’t you defend this? — Country-dances! jigs and reels! am I to blame now? A minuet I could have forgiven — I should not have minded that — I say I should not have regarded a minuet — but country-dances! — Zounds! had she made one in a cotillion — I believe I could have forgiven even that — but to be monkey-led for a night! — to run the gauntlet through a string of amorous palming puppies! — to show paces like a managed filly! — Oh, Jack, there never can be but one man in the world whom a truly modest and delicate woman ought to pair with in a country-dance; and, even then, the rest of the couples should be her great-uncles and aunts!
ABSOLUTE
Ay, to be sure! — grandfathers and grandmothers!
FAULKLAND If there be but one vicious mind in the set, ‘twill spread like a contagion — the action of their pulse beats to the lascivious movement of the jig — their quivering, warm-breathed sighs impregnate the very air — the atmosphere becomes electrical to love, and each amorous spark darts through every link of the chain! — I must leave you — I own I am somewhat flurried — and that confounded looby has perceived it. [Going.]
ABSOLUTE
Nay, but stay, Faulkland, and thank Mr. Acres for his good news.
FAULKLAND
Damn his news! [Exit.]
ABSOLUTE Ha! ha! ha! poor Faulkland five minutes since— “nothing on earth could give him a moment’s uneasiness!”
ACRES
The gentleman wa’n’t angry at my praising his mistress, was he?
ABSOLUTE
A little jealous, I believe, Bob.
ACRES
You don’t say so? Ha! ha! jealous of me — that’s a good joke.
ABSOLUTE There’s nothing strange in that, Bob; let me tell you, that sprightly grace and insinuating manner of yours will do some mischief among the girls here.
ACRES Ah! you joke — ha! ha! mischief — ha! ha! but you know I am not my own property, my dear Lydia has forestalled me. She could never abide me in the country, because I used to dress so badly — but odds frogs and tambours! I shan’t take matters so here, now ancient madam has no voice in it: I’ll make my old clothes know who’s master. I shall straightway cashier the hunting-frock, and render my leather breeches incapable. My hair has been in training some time.
ABSOLUTE
Indeed!
ACRES Ay — and tho’ff the side curls are a little restive, my hind-part takes it very kindly.
ABSOLUTE
Ah, you’ll polish, I doubt not.
ACRES Absolutely I propose so — then if I can find out this Ensign Beverley, odds triggers and flints! I’ll make him know the difference o’t.
ABSOLUTE Spoke like a man! But pray, Bob, I observe you have got an odd kind of a new method of swearing ——
ACRES Ha! ha! you’ve taken notice of it— ’tis genteel, isn’t it! — I didn’t invent it myself though; but a commander in our militia, a great scholar, I assure you, says that there is no meaning in the common oaths, and that nothing but their antiquity makes them respectable; — because, he says, the ancients would never stick to an oath or two, but would say, by Jove! or by Bacchus! or by Mars! or by Venus! or by Pallas, according to the sentiment: so that to swear with propriety, says my little major, the oath should be an echo to the sense; and this we call the oath referential, or sentimental swearing — ha! ha! ’tis genteel, isn’t it?
ABSOLUTE Very genteel, and very new, indeed! — and I dare say will supplant all other figures of imprecation.
ACRES
Ay, ay, the best terms will grow obsolete. — Damns have had their day.
[Re-enter FAG.]
FAG Sir, there is a gentleman below desires to see you. — Shall I show him into the parlour?
ABSOLUTE
Ay — you may.
ACRES
Well, I must be gone ——
ABSOLUTE
Stay; who is it, Fag?
FAG
Your father, sir.
ABSOLUTE
You puppy, why didn’t you show him up directly?
[Exit FAG.]
ACRES
You have business with Sir Anthony. — I expect a message from Mrs.
Malaprop at my lodgings. I have sent also to my dear friend Sir Lucius
O’Trigger. Adieu, Jack! we must meet at night, when you shall give me a
dozen bumpers to little Lydia.
ABSOLUTE
That I will with all my heart. ——
[Exit ACRES.]
/> Now for a parental lecture — I hope he has heard nothing of the business that brought me here — I wish the gout had held him fast in Devonshire, with all my soul!
[Enter Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]
Sir I am delighted to see you here; looking so well! your sudden arrival at Bath made me apprehensive for your health.
Sir ANTHONY Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack. — What, you are recruiting here, hey?
ABSOLUTE
Yes, sir, I am on duty.
Sir ANTHONY Well, Jack, I am glad to see you, though I did not expect it, for I was going to write to you on a little matter of business. — Jack, I have been considering that I grow old and infirm, and shall probably not trouble you long.
ABSOLUTE Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong and hearty; and I pray frequently that you may continue so.
Sir ANTHONY I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my heart. Well, then, Jack, I have been considering that I am so strong and hearty I may continue to plague you a long time. Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of your commission, and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small pittance for a lad of your spirit.
ABSOLUTE
Sir, you are very good.
Sir ANTHONY And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy make some figure in the world. I have resolved, therefore, to fix you at once in a noble independence.
ABSOLUTE Sir, your kindness overpowers me — such generosity makes the gratitude of reason more lively than the sensations even of filial affection.
Sir ANTHONY I am glad you are so sensible of my attention — and you shall be master of a large estate in a few weeks.
ABSOLUTE
Let my future life, sir, speak my gratitude; I cannot express the sense
I have of your munificence. — Yet, sir, I presume you would not wish me
to quit the army?
Sir ANTHONY
Oh, that shall be as your wife chooses.
ABSOLUTE
My wife, sir!
Sir ANTHONY
Ay, ay, settle that between you — settle that between you.
ABSOLUTE
A wife, sir, did you say?
Sir ANTHONY
Ay, a wife — why, did not I mention her before?
ABSOLUTE
Not a word of her, sir.
Sir ANTHONY
Odd so! — I mustn’t forget her though. — Yes, Jack, the independence I
was talking of is by marriage — the fortune is saddled with a wife — but
I suppose that makes no difference.
ABSOLUTE
Sir! sir! — you amaze me!
Sir ANTHONY Why, what the devil’s the matter with the fool? Just now you were all gratitude and duty.
ABSOLUTE I was, sir, — you talked to me of independence and a fortune, but not a word of a wife.
Sir ANTHONY Why — what difference does that make? Odds life, sir! if you have the estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it stands.
ABSOLUTE If my happiness is to be the price, I must beg leave to decline the purchase. — Pray, sir, who is the lady?
Sir ANTHONY What’s that to you, sir? — Come, give me your promise to love, and to marry her directly.
ABSOLUTE Sure, sir, this is not very reasonable, to summon my affections for a lady I know nothing of!
Sir ANTHONY I am sure, sir, ’tis more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you know nothing of.
ABSOLUTE Then, sir, I must tell you plainly that my inclinations are fixed on another — my heart is engaged to an angel.
Sir ANTHONY Then pray let it send an excuse. It is very sorry — but business prevents its waiting on her.
ABSOLUTE
But my vows are pledged to her.
Sir ANTHONY Let her foreclose, Jack; let her foreclose; they are not worth redeeming; besides, you have the angel’s vows in exchange, I suppose; so there can be no loss there.
ABSOLUTE You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that in this point I cannot obey you.
Sir ANTHONY Hark’ee, Jack; — I have heard you for some time with patience — I have been cool — quite cool; but take care — you know I am compliance itself — when I am not thwarted; — no one more easily led — when I have my own way; — but don’t put me in a frenzy.
ABSOLUTE
Sir, I must repeat it — in this I cannot obey you.
Sir ANTHONY
Now damn me! if ever I call you Jack again while I live!
ABSOLUTE
Nay, sir, but hear me.
Sir ANTHONY Sir, I won’t hear a word — not a word! not one word! so give me your promise by a nod — and I’ll tell you what, Jack — I mean, you dog — if you don’t, by ——
ABSOLUTE
What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness! to ——
Sir ANTHONY Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull’s in Cox’s Museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew — she shall be all this, sirrah! — yet I will make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty.
ABSOLUTE
This is reason and moderation indeed!
Sir ANTHONY
None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes!
ABSOLUTE
Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humour for mirth in my life.
Sir ANTHONY ’Tis false, sir, I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you’ll grin when I am gone, sirrah!
ABSOLUTE
Sir, I hope I know my duty better.
Sir ANTHONY None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please! — It won’t do with me, I promise you.
ABSOLUTE
Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.
Sir ANTHONY ’Tis a confounded lie! — I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog! but it won’t do.
ABSOLUTE
Nay, sir, upon my word ——
Sir ANTHONY So you will fly out! can’t you be cool like me? What the devil good can passion do? — Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate! — There, you sneer again! don’t provoke me! — but you rely upon the mildness of my temper — you do, you dog! you play upon the meekness of my disposition! — Yet take care — the patience of a saint may be overcome at last! — but mark! I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do every thing on earth that I choose, why — confound you! I may in time forgive you. — If not, zounds! don’t enter the same hemisphere with me! don’t dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I’ll strip you of your commission; I’ll lodge a five-and-threepence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest. — I’ll disown you, I’ll disinherit you, I’ll unget you! and damn me! if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit.]
ABSOLUTE 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!
[Re-enter FAG.]
FAG 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.
ABSOLUTE Cease your impertinence, sir, at present. — Did you come in for nothing more? — Stand out of the way! [Pushes him
aside, and exit.]
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 self on another, who happens to come in the way, is the vilest injustice! Ah! it shows the worst temper — the basest ——
[Enter BOY.]
BOY
Mr. Fag! Mr. Fag! your master calls you.
FAG Well, you little dirty puppy, you need not bawl so! — The meanest disposition! the ——
BOY
Quick, quick, Mr. Fag!
FAG Quick! quick! you impudent jackanapes! am I to be commanded by you too? you little impertinent, insolent, kitchen-bred —— [Exit kicking and beating him.]
Scene II.
The North Parade. [Enter LUCY.]
LUCY So — I shall have another rival to add to my mistress’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 punctual, when he expects to hear from his dear Delia, 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 own mistress.
[Enter Sir LUCIUS O’TRIGGER.]
Sir LUCIUS Ha! my little ambassadress — 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 LUCIUS 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’d wager a sixpence I went by while you were asleep.
Sir LUCIUS Sure enough it must have been so — and 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 LUCIUS O faith! I guessed you weren’t come empty-handed — Well — let me see what the dear creature says.
LUCY
There, Sir Lucius. [Gives him a letter.]
Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan Page 4
