Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan

by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

  See at your feet a real lover; his zeal may give him title to your pity, although his merit cannot claim your love.

  Love. So, so, very fine, i’faith! [Aside.]

  Aman. Why do you presume to talk to me thus? Is this your friendship to Mr. Loveless? I perceive you will compel me at last to acquaint him with your treachery.

  Col. Town. He could not upbraid me if you were. — He deserves it from me; for he has not been more false to you than faithless to me.

  Aman. To you?

  Col. Town. Yes, madam; the lady for whom he now deserts those charms which he was never worthy of, was mine by right; and, I imagine too, by inclination. Yes, madam, Berinthia, who now —

  Aman. Berinthia! Impossible!

  Col. Town. ’Tis true, or may I never merit your attention.

  She is the deceitful sorceress who now holds your husband’s heart in bondage.

  Aman. I will not believe it.

  Col. Town. By the faith of a true lover, I speak from conviction. This very day I saw them together, and overheard —

  Aman. Peace, sir! I will not even listen to such slander — this is a poor device to work on my resentment, to listen to your insidious addresses. No, sir; though Mr. Loveless may be capable of error, I am convinced I cannot be deceived so grossly in him as to believe what you now report; and for Berinthia, you should have fixed on some more probable person for my rival than her who is my relation and my friend: for while I am myself free from guilt, I will never believe that love can beget injury, or confidence create ingratitude.

  Col. Town. If I do not prove to you —

  Aman. You never shall have an opportunity. From the artful manner in which you first showed yourself to me, I might have been led, as far as virtue permitted, to have thought you less criminal than unhappy; but this last unmanly artifice merits at once my resentment and contempt. [Exit.]

  Col. Town. Sure there’s divinity about her; and she has dispensed some portion of honour’s light to me: yet can I bear to lose Berinthia without revenge or compensation? Perhaps she is not so culpable as I thought her. I was mistaken when I began to think lightly of Amanda’s virtue, and may be in my censure of my

  Berinthia. Surely I love her still, for I feel I should be happy to find myself in the wrong. [Exit.]

  Re-enter LOVELESS and BERINTHIA.

  Ber. Your servant, Mr. Loveless.

  Love. Your servant, madam.

  Ber. Pray what do you think of this?

  Love. Truly, I don’t know what to say.

  Ber. Don’t you think we steal forth two contemptible creatures?

  Love. Why, tolerably so, I must confess.

  Ber. And do you conceive it possible for you ever to give

  Amanda the least uneasiness again?

  Love. No, I think we never should indeed.

  Ber. We! why, monster, you don’t pretend that I ever entertained a thought?

  Love. Why then, sincerely and honestly, Berinthia, there is something in my wife’s conduct which strikes me so forcibly, that if it were not for shame, and the fear of hurting you in her opinion, I swear I would follow her, confess my error, and trust to her generosity for forgiveness.

  Ber. Nay, pr’ythee, don’t let your respect for me prevent you; for as my object in trifling with you was nothing more than to pique Townly, and as I perceive he has been actuated by a similar motive, you may depend on’t I shall make no mystery of the matter to him.

  Love. By no means inform him: for though I may choose to pass by his conduct without resentment, how will he presume to look me in the face again?

  Ber. How will you presume to look him in the face again?

  Love. He, who has dared to attempt the honour of my wife!

  Ber. You who have dared to attempt the honour of his mistress! Come, come, be ruled by me, who affect more levity than I have, and don’t think of anger in this cause. A readiness to resent injuries is a virtue only in those who are slow to injure.

  Love. Then I will be ruled by you; and when you think proper to undeceive Townly, may your good qualities make as sincere a convert of him as Amanda’s have of me.-When truth’s extorted from us, then we own the robe of virtue is a sacred habit.

  Could women but our secret counsel scan —

  Could they but reach the deep reserve of man —

  To keep our love they’d rate their virtue high,

  They live together, and together die.

  [Exeunt.]

  SCENE II.

  A Room in SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY’S House.

  Enter MISS HOYDEN, NURSE, and TOM FASHION.

  Fash. This quick despatch of the chaplain’s I take so kindly it shall give him claim to my favour as long as I live, I assure you.

  Miss Hoyd. And to mine too, I promise you.

  Nurse. I most humbly thank your honours; and may your children swarm about you like bees about a honeycomb!

  Miss Hoyd. Ecod, with all my heart — the more the merrier, I say — ha, nurse?

  Enter LORY.

  Lory. One word with you, for Heaven’s sake. [Taking TOM FASHION hastily aside.]

  Fash. What the devil’s the matter?

  Lory. Sir, your fortune’s ruined if you are not married.

  Yonder’s your brother arrived, with two coaches and six horses, twenty footmen, and a coat worth fourscore pounds — so judge what will become of your lady’s heart.

  Fash. Is he in the house yet?

  Lory. No, they are capitulating with him at the gate. Sir

  Tunbelly luckily takes him for an impostor; and I have told him that we have heard of this plot before.

  Fash. That’s right. — [Turning to MISS HOYDEN.] My dear, here’s a troublesome business my man tells me of, but don’t be frightened; we shall be too hard for the rogue. Here’s an impudent fellow at the gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my name upon him, in hopes to run away with you.

  Miss Hoyd. Oh, the brazen-faced varlet! it’s well we are married, or maybe we might never have been so.

  Fash. [Aside.] Egad, like enough. — [Aloud.]

  Pr’ythee, nurse, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to the gate before I speak to him.

  Nurse. An’t please your honour, my lady and I had better, lock ourselves up till the danger be over.

  Fash. Do so, if you please.

  Miss Hoyd. Not so fast; I won’t be locked up any more, now

  I’m married.

  Fash. Yes, pray, my dear, do, till we have seized this rascal.

  Miss Hoyd. Nay, if you’ll pray me, I’ll do anything.

  [Exit with NURSE.]

  Fash. Hark you, sirrah, things are better than you imagine. The wedding’s over.

  Lory. The devil it is, sir! [Capers about.]

  Fash. Not a word — all’s safe — but Sir Tunbelly don’t know it, nor must not yet. So I am resolved to brazen the brunt of the business out, and have the pleasure of turning the impostor upon his lordship, which I believe may easily be done.

  Enter SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.

  Did you ever hear, sir, of so impudent an undertaking?

  Sir Tun. Never, by the mass; but we’ll tickle him, I’ll warrant you.

  Fash. They tell me, sir, he has a great many people with him, disguised like servants.

  Sir Tun. Ay, ay, rogues enow, but we have mastered them.

  We only fired a few shot over their heads, and the regiment scoured in an instant. — Here, Tummus, bring in your prisoner.

  Fash. If you please, Sir Tunbelly, it will be best for me not to confront this fellow yet, till you have heard how far his impudence will carry him.

  Sir Tun. Egad, your lordship is an ingenious person. Your lordship, then, will please to step aside.

  Lory. [Aside.] ‘Fore heavens, I applaud my master’s modesty! [Exit with TOM FASHION.]

  Enter SERVANTS, with LORD FOPPINGTON

  disarmed.

  Sir Tun. Come, bring him along, bring him along.

  Lord Fop. What the plague
do you mean, gentlemen? is it fair time, that you are all drunk before supper?

  Sir Tun. Drunk, sirrah! here’s an impudent rogue for you now. Drunk or sober, bully, I’m a justice o’ the peace, and know how to deal with strollers.

  Lord Fop. Strollers!

  Sir Tun. Ay, strollers. Come, give an account of yourself.

  What’s your name? where do you live? do you pay scot and lot?

  Come, are you a freeholder or a copyholder?

  Lord Fop. And why dost thou ask me so many impertinent questions?

  Sir Tun. Because I’ll make you answer ’em, before I have done with you, you rascal, you!

  Lord Fop. Before Gad, all the answer I can make to them is, that you are a very extraordinary old fellow, stap my vitals.

  Sir Tun. Nay, if thou art joking deputy-lieutenants, we know how to deal with you. — Here, draw a warrant for him immediately.

  Lord Fop. A warrant! What the devil is’t thou wouldst be at, old gentleman?

  Sir Tun. I would be at you, sirrah, (if my hands were not tied as a magistrate,) and with these two double fists beat your teeth down your throat, you dog, you! [Driving him.]

  Lord Fop. And why wouldst thou spoil my face at that rate?

  Sir Tun. For your design to rob me of my daughter, villain.

  Lord Fop. Rob thee of thy daughter! Now do I begin to believe I am in bed and asleep, and that all this is but a dream.

  Pr’ythee, old father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one question?

  Sir Tun. I can’t tell whether I will or not, till I know what it is.

  Lord Fop. Why, then, it is, whether thou didst not write to my Lord Foppington, to come down and marry thy daughter?

  Sir Tun. Yes, marry, did I, and my Lord Foppington is come down, and shall marry my daughter before she’s a day older.

  Lord Fop. Now give me thy hand, old dad; I thought we should understand one another at last.

  Sir Tun. The fellow’s mad! — Here, bind him hand and foot.

  [They bind him.]

  Lord Fop. Nay, pr’ythee, knight, leave fooling; thy jest begins to grow dull.

  Sir Tun. Bind him, I say — he’s mad: bread and water, a dark room, and a whip, may bring him to his senses again.

  Lord Fop. Pr’ythee, Sir Tunbelly, why should you take such an aversion to the freedom of my address as to suffer the rascals thus to skewer down my arms like a rabbit? — [Aside.] Egad, if I don’t awake, by all that I can see, this is like to prove one of the most impertinent dreams that ever I dreamt in my life.

  Re-enter MISS HOYDEN and NURSE.

  Miss Hoyd. [Going up to LORD FOPPINGTON.] Is this he that would have run — Fough, how he stinks of sweets! — Pray, father, let him be dragged through the horse-pond.

  Lord Fop. This must be my wife, by her natural inclination to her husband. [Aside.]

  Miss Hoyd. Pray, father, what do you intend to do with him — hang him?

  Sir Tun. That, at least, child.

  Nurse. Ay, and it’s e’en too good for him too.

  Lord Fop. Madame la gouvernante, I presume: hitherto this appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary families that ever man of quality matched into. [Aside.]

  Sir Tun. What’s become of my lord, daughter?

  Miss Hoyd. He’s just coming, sir.

  Lord Fop. My lord! what does he mean by that, now?

  [Aside.]

  Re-enter TOM FASHION and LORY.

  Stap my vitals, Tam, now the dream’s out! [Runs.]

  Fash. Is this the fellow, sir, that designed to trick me of your daughter?

  Sir Tun. This is he, my lord. How do you like him? Is not he a pretty fellow to get a fortune?

  Fash. I find by his dress he thought your daughter might be taken with a beau.

  Miss Hoyd. Oh, gemini! is this a beau? let me see him again. [Surveys him.] Ha! I find a beau is no such ugly thing, neither.

  Fash. [Aside.] Egad, she’ll be in love with him presently

  — I’ll e’en have him sent away to jail. — [To LORD

  FOPPINGTON.] Sir, though your undertaking shows you a person of no extraordinary modesty, I suppose you ha’n’t confidence enough to expect much favour from me?

  Lord Fop. Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent fellow.

  Nurse. Look, if the varlet has not the effrontery to call his lordship plain Thomas!

  Lord Fop. My Lord Foppington, shall I beg one word with your lordship?

  Nurse. Ho, ho! it’s my lord with him now! See how afflictions will humble folks.

  Miss Hoyd. Pray, my lord — [To FASHION] — don’t let him whisper too close, lest he bite your ear off.

  Lord Fop. I am not altogether so hungry as your ladyship is pleased to imagine. — [Aside to TOM FASHION.] Look you,

  Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to you as I ought, but I hope you’ll forgive what’s past, and accept of the five thousand pounds I offer — thou mayst live in extreme splendour with it, stap my vitals!

  Fash. It’s a much easier matter to prevent a disease than to cure it. A quarter of that sum would have secured your mistress, twice as much cannot redeem her. [Aside to LORD

  FOPPINGTON.]

  Sir Tun. Well, what says he?

  Fash. Only the rascal offered me a bribe to let him go.

  Sir Tun. Ay, he shall go, with a plague to him! — lead on, constable.

  Enter SERVANT.

  Ser. Sir, here is Muster Loveless, and Muster Colonel

  Townly, and some ladies to wait on you. [To TOM FASHION.]

  Lory. [Aside to TOM FASHION.] So, sir, what will you do now?

  Fash. [Aside to LORY.] Be quiet; they are in the plot. — [Aloud.] Only a few friends, Sir Tunbelly, whom I wish to introduce to you.

  Lord Fop. Thou art the most impudent fellow, Tam, that ever nature yet brought into the world. — Sir Tunbelly, strike me speechless, but these are my friends and acquaintance, and my guests, and they will soon inform thee whether I am the true Lord

  Foppington or not.

  Enter LOVELESS, COLONEL TOWNLY, AMANDA, and

  BERINTHIA. — LORD FOPPINGTON accosts them as they pass, but none answer him.

  Fash. So, gentlemen, this is friendly; I rejoice to see you.

  Col. Town. My lord, we are fortunate to be the witnesses of your lordship’s happiness.

  Love. But your lordship will do us the honour to introduce us to Sir Tunbelly Clumsy?

  Aman. And us to your lady.

  Lord Fop. Gad take me, but they are all in a story!

  [Aside.]

  Sir Tun. Gentlemen, you do me much honour; my Lord

  Foppington’s friends will ever be welcome to me and mine.

  Fash. My love, let me introduce you to these ladies.

  Miss Hoyd. By goles, they look so fine and so stiff, I am almost ashamed to come nigh ’em.

  Aman. A most engaging lady indeed!

  Miss Hoyd. Thank ye, ma’am.

  Ber. And I doubt not will soon distinguish herself in the beau monde.

  Miss Hoyd. Where is that?

  Fash. You’ll soon learn, my dear.

  Love. But Lord Foppington —

  Lord Fop. Sir!

  Love. Sir! I was not addressing myself to you, sir! — Pray who is this gentleman? He seems rather in a singular predicament —

  Col. Town. For so well-dressed a person, a little oddly circumstanced, indeed.

  Sir Tun. Ha! ha! ha! — So, these are your friends and your guests, ha, my adventurer?

  Lord Fop. I am struck dumb with their impudence, and cannot positively say whether I shall ever speak again or not.

  Sir Tun. Why, sir, this modest gentleman wanted to pass himself upon me as Lord Foppington, and carry off my daughter.

  Love. A likely plot to succeed, truly, ha! ha!

  Lord Fop. As Gad shall judge me, Loveless, I did not expect this from thee. Come, pr’ythee confess the joke; tell Sir

  Tunbelly that I am the real Lord Foppington, who yesterday made lov
e to thy wife; was honoured by her with a slap on the face, and afterwards pinked through the body by thee.

  Sir Tun. A likely story, truly, that a peer would behave thus.

  Love. A pretty fellow, indeed, that would scandalize the character he wants to assume; but what will you do with him, Sir

  Tunbelly?

  Sir Tun. Commit him, certainly, unless the bride and bridegroom choose to pardon him.

  Lord Fop. Bride and bridegroom! For Gad’s sake, Sir

  Tunbelly, ’tis tarture to me to hear you call ’em so.

  Miss Hoyd. Why, you ugly thing, what would you have him call us — dog and cat?

  Lord Fop. By no means, miss; for that sounds ten times more like man and wife than t’other.

  Sir Tun. A precious rogue this to come a-wooing!

  Re-enter SERVANT.

  Ser. There are some gentlefolks below to wait upon Lord

  Foppington. [Exit.]

  Col. Town. ‘Sdeath, Tom, what will you do now? [Aside to TOM FASHION.]

  Lord Fop. Now, Sir Tunbelly, here are witnesses who I believe are not corrupted.

  Sir Tun. Peace, fellow! — Would your lordship choose to have your guests shown here, or shall they wait till we come to ’em?

  Fash. I believe, Sir Tunbelly, we had better not have these visitors here yet. — [Aside.] Egad, all must out.

  Love. Confess, confess; we’ll stand by you. [Aside to TOM FASHION.]

  Lord Fop. Nay, Sir Tunbelly, I insist on your calling evidence on both sides — and if I do not prove that fellow an impostor —

  Fash. Brother, I will save you the trouble, by now confessing that I am not what I have passed myself for. — Sir

  Tunbelly, I am a gentleman, and I flatter myself a man of character; but’tis with great pride I assure you I am not Lord

  Foppington.

  Sir Tun. Ouns! — what’s this? — an impostor? — a cheat? — fire and faggots, sir, if you are not Lord Foppington, who the devil are you?

  Fash. Sir, the best of my condition is, I am your son-in-law; and the worst of it is, I am brother to that noble peer.

  Lord Fop. Impudent to the last, Gad dem me!

  Sir Tun. My son-in-law! not yet, I hope.

  Fash. Pardon me, sir; thanks to the goodness of your chaplain, and the kind offices of this gentlewoman.

  Lory. ’Tis true indeed, sir; I gave your daughter away, and Mrs. Nurse, here, was clerk.