The Rivals, Richard Brinsley Sheridan [books recommended by bts .txt] 📗

/> I think I never faced a milder jury!
Sad else our plight! where frowns are transportation.
A hiss the gallows, and a groan damnation!
But such the public candour, without fear
My client waives all right of challenge here.
No newsman from our session is dismiss'd,
Nor wit nor critic we scratch off the list;
His faults can never hurt another's ease,
His crime, at worst, a bad attempt to please:
Thus, all respecting, he appeals to all,
And by the general voice will stand or fall.


Prologue By the AUTHOR

SPOKEN ON THE TENTH NIGHT, BY MRS. BULKLEY.

Granted our cause, our suit and trial o'er,
The worthy serjeant need appear no more:
In pleasing I a different client choose,
He served the Poet - I would serve the Muse.
Like him, I'll try to merit your applause,
A female counsel in a female's cause.
Look on this form - where humour, quaint and sly,
Dimples the cheek, and points the beaming eye;
Where gay invention seems to boast its wiles
In amorous hint, and half-triumphant smiles;
While her light mask or covers satire's strokes,
Or hides the conscious blush her wit provokes.
Look on her well - does she seem form'd to teach?
Should you expect to hear this lady preach?
Is grey experience suited to her youth?
Do solemn sentiments become that mouth?
Bid her be grave, those lips should rebel prove
To every theme that slanders mirth or love.
Yet, thus adorn'd with every graceful art
To charm the fancy and yet reach the heart -
Must we displace her? And instead advance
The goddess of the woful countenance -
The sentimental Muse! - Her emblems view,
The Pilgrim's Progress, and a sprig of rue!
View her - too chaste to look like flesh and blood -
Primly portray'd on emblematic wood!
There, fix'd in usurpation, should she stand,
She'll snatch the dagger from her sister's hand:
And having made her votaries weep a flood,
Good heaven! she'll end her comedies in blood -
Bid Harry Woodward break poor Dunstal's crown!
Imprison Quick, and knock Ned Shuter down;
While sad Barsanti, weeping o'er the scene,
Shall stab herself - or poison Mrs. Green.
Such dire encroachments to prevent in time,
Demands the critic's voice - the poet's rhyme.
Can our light scenes add strength to holy laws!
Such puny patronage but hurts the cause:
Fair virtue scorns our feeble aid to ask;
And moral truth disdains the trickster's mask
For here their favourite stands, whose brow severe
And sad, claims youth's respect, and pity's tear;
Who, when oppress'd by foes her worth creates,
Can point a poniard at the guilt she hates.


ACT I

* * * * * * *


Scene I. - A street. [Enter THOMAS; he crosses the stage; FAG follows, looking after him.]

FAG What! Thomas! sure 'tis he? - What! Thomas! Thomas!

THOMAS Hey! - Odd's life! Mr. Fag! - give us your hand, my old fellow-servant.

FAG Excuse my glove, Thomas: - I'm devilish glad to see you, my lad. Why, my prince of charioteers, you look as hearty! - but who the deuce thought of seeing you in Bath?

THOMAS Sure, master, Madam Julia, Harry, Mrs. Kate, and the postillion, be all come.

FAG Indeed!

THOMAS Ay, master thought another fit of the gout was coming to make him a visit; - so he'd a mind to gi't the slip, and whip! we were all off at an hour's warning.

FAG Ay, ay, hasty in every thing, or it would not be Sir Anthony Absolute!

THOMAS But tell us, Mr. Fag, how does young master? Odd! Sir Anthony will stare to see the Captain here!

FAG I do not serve Captain Absolute now.

THOMAS Why sure!

FAG At present I am employed by Ensign Beverley.

THOMAS I doubt, Mr. Fag, you ha'n't changed for the better.

FAG I have not changed, Thomas.

THOMAS No! Why didn't you say you had left young master?

FAG No. - Well, honest Thomas, I must puzzle you no farther: - briefly then - Captain Absolute and Ensign Beverley are one and the same person.

THOMAS The devil they are!

FAG So it is indeed, Thomas; and the ensign half of my master being on guard at present - the captain has nothing to do with me.

THOMAS So, so! - What, this is some freak, I warrant! - Do tell us, Mr. Fag, the meaning o't - you know I ha' trusted you.

FAG You'll be secret, Thomas?

THOMAS As a coach-horse.

FAG Why then the cause of all this is - Love, - Love, Thomas, who (as you may get read to you) has been a masquerader ever since the days of Jupiter.

THOMAS Ay, ay; - I guessed there was a lady in the case: - but pray, why does your master pass only for ensign? - Now if he had shammed general indeed - -

FAG Ah! Thomas, there lies the mystery o' the matter. Hark'ee, Thomas, my master is in love with a lady of a very singular taste: a lady who likes him better as a half pay ensign than if she knew he was son and heir to Sir Anthony Absolute, a baronet of three thousand a year.

THOMAS That is an odd taste indeed! - But has she got the stuff, Mr. Fag? Is she rich, hey?

FAG Rich! - Why, I believe she owns half the stocks! Zounds! Thomas, she could pay the national debt as easily as I could my washerwoman! She has a lapdog that eats out of gold, - she feeds her parrot with small pearls, - and all her thread-papers are made of bank-notes!

THOMAS Bravo, faith! - Odd! I warrant she has a set of thousands at least: - but does she draw kindly with the captain?

FAG As fond as pigeons.

THOMAS May one hear her name?

FAG Miss Lydia Languish. - But there is an old tough aunt in the way; though, by-the-by, she has never seen my master - for we got acquainted with miss while on a visit in Gloucestershire.

THOMAS Well - I wish they were once harnessed together in matrimony. - But pray, Mr. Fag, what kind of a place is this Bath? - I ha' heard a deal of it - here's a mort o' merrymaking, hey?

FAG Pretty well, Thomas, pretty well - 'tis a good lounge; in the morning we go to the pump-room (though neither my master nor I drink the waters); after breakfast we saunter on the parades, or play a game at billiards; at night we dance; but damn the place, I'm tired of it: their regular hours stupify me - not a fiddle nor a card after eleven! - However, Mr. Faulkland's gentleman and I keep it up a little in private parties; - I'll introduce you there, Thomas - you'll like him much.

THOMAS Sure I know Mr. Du-Peigne - you know his master is to marry Madam Julia.

FAG I had forgot. - But, Thomas, you must polish a little - indeed you must. - Here now - this wig! - What the devil do you do with a wig, Thomas? - None of the London whips of any degree of ton wear wigs now.

THOMAS More's the pity! more's the pity! I say. - Odd's life! when I heard how the lawyers and doctors had took to their own hair, I thought how 'twould go next: - odd rabbit it! when the fashion had got foot on the bar, I guessed 'twould mount to the box! - but 'tis all out of character, believe me, Mr. Fag: and look'ee, I'll never gi' up mine - the lawyers and doctors may do as they will.

FAG Well, Thomas, we'll not quarrel about that.

THOMAS Why, bless you, the gentlemen of the professions ben't all of a mind - for in our village now, thoff Jack Gauge, the exciseman, has ta'en to his carrots, there's little Dick the farrier swears he'll never forsake his bob, though all the college should appear with their own heads!

FAG Indeed! well said, Dick! - But hold - mark! mark! Thomas.

THOMAS Zooks! 'tis the captain. - Is that the Lady with him?

FAG No, no, that is Madam Lucy, my master's mistress's maid. They lodge at that house - but I must after him to tell him the news.

THOMAS Odd! he's giving her money! - Well, Mr. Fag - -

FAG Good-bye, Thomas. I have an appointment in Gyde's porch this evening at eight; meet me there, and we'll make a little party.

[Exeunt severally.]

* * * * * * *


Scene II. - A Dressing-room in Mrs. MALAPROP's Lodgings. [LYDIA sitting on a sofa, with a book in her hand. Lucy, as just returned from a message.]

LUCY Indeed, ma'am, I traversed half the town in search of it: I don't believe there's a circulating library in Bath I ha'n't been at.

LYDIA And could not you get The Reward of Constancy ?

LUCY No, indeed, ma'am.

LYDIA Nor The Fatal Connexion ?

LUCY No, indeed, ma'am.

LYDIA Nor The Mistakes of the Heart ?

LUCY Ma'am, as ill luck would have it, Mr. Bull said Miss Sukey Saunter had just fetched it away.

LYDIA Heigh-ho! - Did you inquire for The Delicate Distress ?

LUCY Or, The Memoirs of Lady Woodford ? Yes, indeed, ma'am. I asked every where for it; and I might have brought it from Mr. Frederick's, but Lady Slattern Lounger, who had just sent it home, had so soiled and dog's-eared it, it wa'n't fit for a Christian to read.

LYDIA Heigh-ho! - Yes, I always know when Lady Slattern has been before me. She has a most observing thumb; and, I believe, cherishes her nails for the convenience of making marginal notes. - Well, child, what have you brought me?

LUCY Oh! here, ma'am. - [Taking books from under her cloak, and from her pockets.] This is The Gordian Knot , - and this Peregrine Pickle . Here are The Tears of Sensibility , and Humphrey Clinker . This is
The Memoirs of a Lady of Quality, written by herself , and here the second volume of The Sentimental Journey .

LYDIA Heigh-ho! - What are those books by the glass?

LUCY The great one is only The Whole Duty of Man , where I press a few blonds, ma'am.

LYDIA Very well - give me the sal volatile.

LUCY Is it in a blue cover, ma'am?

LYDIA My smelling-bottle, you simpleton!

LUCY Oh, the drops! - here, ma'am.

LYDIA Hold! - here's some one coming - quick, see who it is. - -