Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan

by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

  LYDIA

  [Sullenly.] So! — there will be no elopement after all!

  Sir ANTHONY

  Upon my soul, Jack, thou art a very impudent fellow! to do you justice,

  I think I never saw a piece of more consummate assurance!

  ABSOLUTE Oh, you flatter me, sir — you compliment— ’tis my modesty, you know, sir, — my modesty that has stood in my way.

  Sir ANTHONY Well, I am glad you are not the dull, insensible varlet you pretended to be, however! — I’m glad you have made a fool of your father, you dog — I am. So this was your penitence, your duty and obedience! — I thought it was damned sudden! — You never heard their names before, not you! — what, the Languishes of Worcestershire, hey? — if you could please me in the affair it was all you desired! — Ah! you dissembling villain! — What! — [Pointing to Lydia] She squints, don’t she? — a little red-haired girl! — hey? — Why, you hypocritical young rascal! — I wonder you ain’t ashamed to hold up your head!

  ABSOLUTE ’Tis with difficulty, sir. — I am confused — very much confused, as you must perceive.

  Mrs. MALAPROP O Lud! Sir Anthony! — a new light breaks in upon me! — hey! — how! what! captain, did you write the letters then? — What — am I to thank you for the elegant compilation of an old weather-beaten she-dragon — hey! — O mercy! — was it you that reflected on my parts of speech?

  ABSOLUTE Dear sir! my modesty will be overpowered at last, if you don’t assist me — I shall certainly not be able to stand it!

  Sir ANTHONY Come, come, Mrs. Malaprop, we must forget and forgive; — odds life! matters have taken so clever a turn all of a sudden, that I could find in my heart to be so good-humoured! and so gallant! hey! Mrs. Malaprop!

  Mrs. MALAPROP Well, Sir Anthony, since you desire it, we will not anticipate the past! — so mind, young people — our retrospection will be all to the future.

  Sir ANTHONY Come, we must leave them together; Mrs. Malaprop, they long to fly into each other’s arms, I warrant! — Jack — isn’t the cheek as I said, hey? — and the eye, you rogue! — and the lip — hey? Come, Mrs. Malaprop, we’ll not disturb their tenderness — theirs is the time of life for happiness! — Youth’s the season made for joy — [Sings.] — hey! — Odds life! I’m in such spirits, — I don’t know what I could not do! — Permit me, ma’am — [Gives his hand to Mrs. MALAPROP.] Tol-de-rol— ‘gad, I should like to have a little fooling myself — Tol-de-rol! de-rol.

  [Exit, singing and handing Mrs. MALAPROP. — LYDIA sits sullenly in her chair.]

  ABSOLUTE

  [Aside.] So much thought bodes me no good. — [Aloud.] So grave, Lydia!

  LYDIA

  Sir!

  ABSOLUTE [Aside.] So! — egad! I thought as much! — that damned monosyllable has froze me! — [Aloud.] What, Lydia, now that we are as happy in our friends’ consent, as in our mutual vows ——

  LYDIA

  [Peevishly.] Friends’ consent indeed!

  ABSOLUTE Come, come, we must lay aside some of our romance — a little wealth and comfort may be endured after all. And for your fortune, the lawyers shall make such settlements as ——

  LYDIA

  Lawyers! I hate lawyers!

  ABSOLUTE Nay, then, we will not wait for their lingering forms, but instantly procure the licence, and ——

  LYDIA

  The licence! — I hate licence!

  ABSOLUTE

  Oh my love! be not so unkind! — thus let me entreat —— [Kneeling.]

  LYDIA

  Psha! — what signifies kneeling, when you know I must have you?

  ABSOLUTE [Rising.] Nay, madam, there shall be no constraint upon your inclinations, I promise you. — If I have lost your heart — I resign the rest — [Aside.] ‘Gad, I must try what a little spirit will do.

  LYDIA [Rising.] Then, sir, let me tell you, the interest you had there was acquired by a mean, unmanly imposition, and deserves the punishment of fraud. — What, you have been treating me like a child! — humouring my romance! and laughing, I suppose, at your success!

  ABSOLUTE

  You wrong me, Lydia, you wrong me — only hear ——

  LYDIA So, while I fondly imagined we were deceiving my relations, and flattered myself that I should outwit and incense them all — behold my hopes are to be crushed at once, by my aunt’s consent and approbation — and I am myself the only dupe at last! — [Walking about in a heat.] But here, sir, here is the picture — Beverley’s picture! [taking a miniature from her bosom] which I have worn, night and day, in spite of threats and entreaties! — There, sir [Flings it to him.]; and be assured I throw the original from my heart as easily.

  ABSOLUTE Nay, nay, ma’am, we will not differ as to that. — Here [taking out a picture], here is Miss Lydia Languish. — What a difference! — ay, there is the heavenly assenting smile that first gave soul and spirit to my hopes! — those are the lips which sealed a vow, as yet scarce dry in Cupid’s calendar! and there the half-resentful blush, that would have checked the ardour of my thanks! — Well, all that’s past! — all over indeed! — There, madam — in beauty, that copy is not equal to you, but in my mind its merit over the original, in being still the same, is such — that — I cannot find in my heart to part with it. [Puts it up again.]

  LYDIA [Softening.] ’Tis your own doing, sir — I, I, I suppose you are perfectly satisfied.

  ABSOLUTE O, most certainly — sure, now, this is much better than being in love! — ha! ha! ha! — there’s some spirit in this! — What signifies breaking some scores of solemn promises: — all that’s of no consequence, you know. To be sure people will say, that miss don’t know her own mind — but never mind that! Or, perhaps, they may be ill-natured enough to hint, that the gentleman grew tired of the lady and forsook her — but don’t let that fret you.

  LYDIA

  There is no bearing his insolence. [Bursts into tears.]

  [Re-enter Mrs. MALAPROP and Sir ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.]

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  Come, we must interrupt your billing and cooing awhile.

  LYDIA

  This is worse than your treachery and deceit, you base ingrate!

  [Sobbing.]

  Sir ANTHONY What the devil’s the matter now? — Zounds! Mrs. Malaprop, this is the oddest billing and cooing I ever heard! — but what the deuce is the meaning of it? — I am quite astonished!

  ABSOLUTE

  Ask the lady, sir.

  Mrs. MALAPROP O mercy! — I’m quite analyzed, for my part! — Why, Lydia, what is the reason of this?

  LYDIA

  Ask the gentleman, ma’am.

  Sir ANTHONY Zounds! I shall be in a frenzy! — Why, Jack, you are not come out to be any one else, are you?

  Mrs. MALAPROP Ay, sir, there’s no more trick, is there? — you are not like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once, are you?

  ABSOLUTE You’ll not let me speak — I say the lady can account for this much much better than I can.

  LYDIA Ma’am, you once commanded me never to think of Beverley again — there is the man — I now obey you: for, from this moment, I renounce him for ever. [Exit.]

  Mrs. MALAPROP O mercy! and miracles! what a turn here is — why, sure, captain, you haven’t behaved disrespectfully to my niece.

  Sir ANTHONY Ha! ha! ha! — ha! ha! ha! — now I see it. Ha! ha! ha! — now I see it — you have been too lively, Jack.

  ABSOLUTE

  Nay, sir, upon my word ——

  Sir ANTHONY

  Come, no lying, Jack — I’m sure ’twas so.

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  O Lud! Sir Anthony! — O fy, captain!

  ABSOLUTE

  Upon my soul, ma’am ——

  Sir ANTHONY Come, no excuses, Jack; why, your father, you rogue, was so before you: — the blood of the Absolutes was always impatient. — Ha! ha! ha! poor little Lydia! why, you’ve frightened her, you dog, you have.

  ABSOLUTE

  By all that’s good, sir ——

  Sir AN
THONY Zounds! say no more, I tell you — Mrs. Malaprop shall make your peace. You must make his peace, Mrs. Malaprop: — you must tell her ’tis Jack’s way — tell her ’tis all our ways — it runs in the blood of our family! Come away, Jack — Ha! ha! ha! — Mrs. Malaprop — a young villain! [Pushing him out.]

  Mrs. MALAPROP

  O! Sir Anthony! — O fy, captain!

  [Exeunt severally.]

  Scene III

  The North Parade. [Enter Sir LUCIUS O’TRIGGER.]

  Sir LUCIUS I wonder where this Captain Absolute hides himself! Upon my conscience! these officers are always in one’s way in love affairs: — I remember I might have married Lady Dorothy Carmine, if it had not been for a little rogue of a major, who ran away with her before she could get a sight of me! And I wonder too what it is the ladies can see in them to be so fond of them — unless it be a touch of the old serpent in ’em, that makes the little creatures be caught, like vipers, with a bit of red cloth. Ha! isn’t this the captain coming? — faith it is! — There is a probability of succeeding about that fellow, that is mighty provoking! Who the devil is he talking to? [Steps aside.]

  [Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.]

  ABSOLUTE [Aside.] To what fine purpose I have been plotting! a noble reward for all my schemes, upon my soul! — a little gipsy! — I did not think her romance could have made her so damned absurd either. ‘Sdeath, I never was in a worse humour in my life! — I could cut my own throat, or any other person’s, with the greatest pleasure in the world!

  Sir LUCIUS Oh, faith! I’m in the luck of it. I never could have found him in a sweeter temper for my purpose — to be sure I’m just come in the nick! Now to enter into conversation with him, and so quarrel genteelly. — [Goes up to CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.] With regard to that matter, captain, I must beg leave to differ in opinion with you.

  ABSOLUTE

  Upon my word, then, you must be a very subtle disputant: — because, sir,

  I happened just then to be giving no opinion at all.

  Sir LUCIUS That’s no reason. For give me leave to tell you, a man may think an untruth as well as speak one.

  ABSOLUTE Very true, sir; but if a man never utters his thoughts, I should think they might stand a chance of escaping controversy.

  Sir LUCIUS Then, sir, you differ in opinion with me, which amounts to the same thing.

  ABSOLUTE Hark’ee, Sir Lucius; if I had not before known you to be a gentleman, upon my soul, I should not have discovered it at this interview: for what you can drive at, unless you mean to quarrel with me, I cannot conceive!

  Sir LUCIUS I humbly thank you, sir, for the quickness of your apprehension. — [Bowing.] You have named the very thing I would be at.

  ABSOLUTE Very well, sir; I shall certainly not balk your inclinations. — But I should be glad you would please to explain your motives.

  Sir LUCIUS Pray, sir, be easy; the quarrel is a very pretty quarrel as it stands; we should only spoil it by trying to explain it. However, your memory is very short, or you could not have forgot an affront you passed on me within this week. So, no more, but name your time and place.

  ABSOLUTE Well, sir, since you are so bent on it, the sooner the better; let it be this evening — here, by the Spring Gardens. We shall scarcely be interrupted.

  Sir LUCIUS Faith! that same interruption in affairs of this nature shows very great ill-breeding. I don’t know what’s the reason, but in England if a thing of this kind gets wind, people make such a pother, that a gentleman can never fight in peace and quietness. However, if it’s the same to you, captain, I should take it as a particular kindness if you’d let us meet in King’s-Mead-Fields, as a little business will call me there about six o’clock, and I may despatch both matters at once.

  ABSOLUTE ’Tis the same to me exactly. A little after six, then, we will discuss this matter more seriously.

  Sir LUCIUS If you please, sir; there will be very pretty small-sword light, though it won’t do for a long shot. So that matter’s settled, and my mind’s at ease! [Exit.]

  [Enter FAULKLAND.]

  ABSOLUTE Well met! I was going to look for you. O Faulkland! all the demons of spite and disappointment have conspired against me! I’m so vex’d, that if I had not the prospect of a resource in being knocked o’ the head by-and-by, I should scarce have spirits to tell you the cause.

  FAULKLAND What can you mean? — Has Lydia changed her mind? — I should have thought her duty and inclination would now have pointed to the same object.

  ABSOLUTE Ay, just as the eyes do of a person who squints: when her love-eye was fixed on me, t’other, her eye of duty, was finely obliqued: but when duty bid her point that the same way, off t’other turned on a swivel, and secured its retreat with a frown!

  FAULKLAND

  But what’s the resource you ——

  ABSOLUTE

  Oh, to wind up the whole, a good-natured Irishman here has — [Mimicking

  Sir LUCIUS] begged leave to have the pleasure of cutting my throat; and

  I mean to indulge him — that’s all.

  FAULKLAND

  Prithee, be serious!

  ABSOLUTE ’Tis fact, upon my soul! Sir Lucius O’Trigger — you know him by sight — for some affront, which I am sure I never intended, has obliged me to meet him this evening at six o’clock: ’tis on that account I wished to see you; you must go with me.

  FAULKLAND Nay, there must be some mistake, sure. Sir Lucius shall explain himself, and I dare say matters may be accommodated. But this evening did you say? I wish it had been any other time.

  ABSOLUTE

  Why? there will be light enough: there will (as Sir Lucius says) be

  very pretty small-sword light, though it will not do for a long shot.

  Confound his long shots.

  FAULKLAND

  But I am myself a good deal ruffled by a difference I have had with

  Julia. My vile tormenting temper has made me treat her so cruelly, that

  I shall not be myself till we are reconciled.

  ABSOLUTE

  By heavens! Faulkland, you don’t deserve her!

  [Enter SERVANT, gives FAULKLAND a letter, and exit.]

  FAULKLAND Oh, Jack! this is from Julia. I dread to open it! I fear it may be to take a last leave! — perhaps to bid me return her letters, and restore — Oh, how I suffer for my folly!

  ABSOLUTE Here, let me see. — [Takes the letter and opens it.] Ay, a final sentence, indeed!— ’tis all over with you, faith!

  FAULKLAND

  Nay, Jack, don’t keep me in suspense!

  ABSOLUTE Here then — [Reads.] As I am convinced that my dear Faulkland’s own reflections have already upbraided him for his last unkindness to me, I will not add a word on the subject. I wish to speak with you as soon as possible. Yours ever and truly, Julia. There’s stubbornness and resentment for you! — [Gives him the letter.] Why, man, you don’t seem one whit the happier at this!

  FAULKLAND

  O yes, I am; but — but ——

  ABSOLUTE Confound your buts! you never hear any thing that would make another man bless himself, but you immediately damn it with a but!

  FAULKLAND Now, Jack, as you are my friend, own honestly — don’t you think there is something forward, something indelicate, in this haste to forgive? Women should never sue for reconciliation: that should always come from us. They should retain their coldness till wooed to kindness; and their pardon, like their love, should “not unsought be won.”

  ABSOLUTE I have not patience to listen to you! thou’rt incorrigible! so say no more on the subject. I must go to settle a few matters. Let me see you before six, remember, at my lodgings. A poor industrious devil like me, who have toiled, and drudged, and plotted to gain my ends, and am at last disappointed by other people’s folly, may in pity be allowed to swear and grumble a little; but a captious sceptic in love, a slave to fretfulness and whim, who has no difficulties but of his own creating, is a subject more fit for ridicule than compassion! [Exit.]

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sp; FAULKLAND I feel his reproaches; yet I would not change this too exquisite nicety for the gross content with which he tramples on the thorns of love! His engaging me in this duel has started an idea in my head, which I will instantly pursue. I’ll use it as the touchstone of Julia’s sincerity and disinterestedness. If her love prove pure and sterling ore, my name will rest on it with honour; and once I’ve stamped it there, I lay aside my doubts for ever! But if the dross of selfishness, the alloy of pride, predominate, ‘twill be best to leave her as a toy for some less cautious fool to sigh for! [Exit.]

  ACT V

  Scene I

  JULIA’s Dressing-Room. [JULIA discovered alone.]

  JULIA How this message has alarmed me! what dreadful accident can he mean? why such charge to be alone? — O Faulkland! — how many unhappy moments — how many tears have you cost me.

  [Enter FAULKLAND.]

  JULIA

  What means this? — why this caution, Faulkland?

  FAULKLAND

  Alas! Julia, I am come to take a long farewell.

  JULIA

  Heavens! what do you mean?

  FAULKLAND You see before you a wretch, whose life is forfeited. Nay, start not! — the infirmity of my temper has drawn all this misery on me. I left you fretful and passionate — an untoward accident drew me into a quarrel — the event is, that I must fly this kingdom instantly. O Julia, had I been so fortunate as to have called you mine entirely, before this mischance had fallen on me, I should not so deeply dread my banishment!

  JULIA My soul is oppressed with sorrow at the nature of your misfortune: had these adverse circumstances arisen from a less fatal cause, I should have felt strong comfort in the thought that I could now chase from your bosom every doubt of the warm sincerity of my love. My heart has long known no other guardian — I now entrust my person to your honour — we will fly together. When safe from pursuit, my father’s will may be fulfilled — and I receive a legal claim to be the partner of your sorrows, and tenderest comforter. Then on the bosom of your wedded Julia, you may lull your keen regret to slumbering; while virtuous love, with a cherub’s hand, shall smooth the brow of upbraiding thought, and pluck the thorn from compunction.