And I doubt not will soon
distinguish
herself in the
beau monde.
beau monde.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
[_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
love 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.
_Sir Tun_. Knock that rascal down! --But speak, Jezebel, how's
this?
_Nurse_. Alas! your honour, forgive me; I have been
overreached in this business as well as you. Your worship knows,
if the wedding-dinner had been ready, you would have given her
away with your own hands.
_Sir Tun_. But how durst you do this without acquainting me?
_Nurse_. Alas! if your worship had seen how the poor thing
begged and prayed, and clung and twined about me like ivy round
an old wall, you would say, I who had nursed it, and reared it,
must have had a heart like stone to refuse it.
_Sir Tun_. Ouns! I shall go mad! Unloose my lord there, you
scoundrels!
_Lord Fop_. Why, when these gentlemen are at leisure, I
should be glad to congratulate you on your son-in-law, with a
little more freedom of address.
_Miss Hoyd_. Egad, though, I don't see which is to be my
husband after all.
_Love_. Come, come, Sir Tunbelly, a man of your
understanding must perceive that an affair of this kind is not to
be mended by anger and reproaches.
_Col. Town_. Take my word for it, Sir Tunbelly, you are only
tricked into a son-in-law you may be proud of: my friend Tom
Fashion is as honest a fellow as ever breathed.
_Love_. That he is, depend on't; and will hunt or drink with
you most affectionately: be generous, old boy, and forgive them--
_Sir Tun_. Never! the hussy! --when I had set my heart on
getting her a title.
_Lord Fop_. Now, Sir Tunbelly, that I am untrussed--give me
leave to thank thee for the very extraordinary reception I have
met with in thy damned, execrable mansion; and at the same time
to assure you, that of all the bumpkins and blockheads I have had
the misfortune to meek with, thou art the most obstinate and
egregious, strike me ugly!
_Sir Tun_. What's this! I believe you are both rogues alike.
_Lord Fop_. No, Sir Tunbelly, thou wilt find to thy
unspeakable mortification, that I am the real Lord Foppington,
who was to have disgraced myself by an alliance with a clod; and
that thou hast matched thy girl to a beggarly younger brother of
mine, whose title deeds might be contained in thy tobacco-box.
_Sir Tun_. Puppy! puppy! --I might prevent their being
beggars, if I chose it; for I could give 'em as good a rent-roll
as your lordship.
_Lord Fop_. Ay, old fellow, but you will not do that--for
that would be acting like a Christian, and thou art a barbarian,
stap my vitals.
_Sir Tun_. Udzookers! now six such words more, and I'll
forgive them directly.
_Love_. 'Slife, Sir Tunbelly, you should do it, and bless
yourself--Ladies, what say you?
_Aman_. Good Sir Tunbelly, you must consent.
_Ber_. Come, you have been young yourself, Sir Tunbelly.
_Sir Tun_. Well then, if I must, I must; but turn--turn that
sneering lord out, however, and let me be revenged on somebody.
But first look whether I am a barbarian or not; there, children,
I join your hands; and when I'm in a better humour, I'll give you
my blessing.
_Love_. Nobly done, Sir Tunbelly! and we shall see you dance
at a grandson's christening yet.
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, though, I don't understand this!
What! an't I to be a lady after all? only plain Mrs. --What's my
husband's name, nurse?
_Nurse_. Squire Fashion.
_Miss Hoyd_. Squire, is he? --Well, that's better than
nothing.
_Lord Fop. [Aside_. ] Now I will put on a philosophic air,
and show these people, that it is not possible to put a man of my
quality out of countenance. --[_Aloud_. ] Dear Tam, since
things are fallen out, pr'ythee give me leave to wish thee joy; I
do it _de bon coeur_, strike me dumb! You have married into
a family of great politeness and uncommon elegance of manners,
and your bride appears to be a lady beautiful in person, modest
in her deportment, refined in her sentiments, and of nice
morality, split my windpipe!
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, husband, break his bones if he calls
me names!
_Fash_. Your lordship may keep up your spirits with your
grimace, if you please; I shall support mine, by Sir Tunbelly's
favour, with this lady and three thousand pounds a year.
_Lord Fop_. Well, adieu, Tam! --Ladies, I kiss your, hands! --
Sir Tunbelly, I shall now quit this thy den; but while I retain
the use of my arms, I shall ever remember thou art a demned
horrid savage; Ged demn me! [_Exit_. ]
_Sir Tun_. By the mass, 'tis well he's gone--for I should
ha' been provoked, by-and-by, to ha' dun un a mischief. Well, if
this is a lord, I think Hoyden has luck on her side, in troth.
_Col. Town_. She has, indeed, Sir Tunbelly. --But I hear the
fiddles; his lordship, I know, has provided 'em.
_Love_. Oh, a dance and a bottle, Sir Tunbelly, by all
means!
_Sir Tun_. I had forgot the company below; well--what--we
must be merry, then, ha? and dance and drink, ha? Well, 'fore
George, you shan't say I do these things by halves. Son-in-law
there looks like a hearty rogue, so we'll have a night on't: and
which of these ladies will be the old man's partner, ha? --Ecod, I
don't know how I came to be in so good a humour.
_Ber_. Well, Sir Tunbelly, my friend and I both will
endeavour to keep you so: you have done a generous action, and
are entitled to our attention. If you should be at a loss to
divert your new guests, we will assist you to relate to them the
plot of your daughter's marriage, and his lordship's deserved
mortification; a subject which perhaps may afford no bad
evening's entertainment.
_Sir Tun_. Ecod, with all my heart; though I am a main
bungler at a long story.
_Ber_. Never fear; we will assist you, if the tale is judged
worth being repeated; but of this you may be assured, that while
the intention is evidently to please, British auditors will ever
be indulgent to the errors of the performance. [Exeunt omnes. ]
THE CRITIC;
OR, A TRAGEDY REHEARSED _A DRAMATIC PIECE IN THREE ACTS_ TO
MRS. GREVILLE
_MADAM_,--In requesting your permission to address the
following pages to you, which, as they aim themselves to be
critical, require every protection and allowance that approving
taste or friendly prejudice can give them, I yet ventured to
mention no other motive than the gratification of private
friendship and esteem. Had I suggested a hope that your implied
approbation would give a sanction to their defects, your
particular reserve, and dislike to the reputation of critical
taste, as well as of poetical talent, would have made you refuse
the protection of your name to such a purpose. However, I am not
so ungrateful as now to attempt to combat this disposition in
you. I shall not here presume to argue that the present state of
poetry claims and expects every assistance that taste and example
can afford it; nor endeavour to prove that a fastidious
concealment of the most elegant productions of judgment and fancy
is an ill return for the possession of those endowments. Continue
to deceive yourself in the idea that you are known only to be
eminently admired and regarded for the valuable qualities that
attach private friendships, and the graceful talents that adorn
conversation. Enough of what you have written has stolen into
full public notice to answer my purpose; and you will, perhaps,
be the only person, conversant in elegant literature, who shall
read this address and not perceive that by publishing your
particular approbation of the following drama, I have a more
interested object than to boast the true respect and regard with
which I have the honour to be, Madam, your very sincere and
obedient humble servant, R.
_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
love 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.
_Sir Tun_. Knock that rascal down! --But speak, Jezebel, how's
this?
_Nurse_. Alas! your honour, forgive me; I have been
overreached in this business as well as you. Your worship knows,
if the wedding-dinner had been ready, you would have given her
away with your own hands.
_Sir Tun_. But how durst you do this without acquainting me?
_Nurse_. Alas! if your worship had seen how the poor thing
begged and prayed, and clung and twined about me like ivy round
an old wall, you would say, I who had nursed it, and reared it,
must have had a heart like stone to refuse it.
_Sir Tun_. Ouns! I shall go mad! Unloose my lord there, you
scoundrels!
_Lord Fop_. Why, when these gentlemen are at leisure, I
should be glad to congratulate you on your son-in-law, with a
little more freedom of address.
_Miss Hoyd_. Egad, though, I don't see which is to be my
husband after all.
_Love_. Come, come, Sir Tunbelly, a man of your
understanding must perceive that an affair of this kind is not to
be mended by anger and reproaches.
_Col. Town_. Take my word for it, Sir Tunbelly, you are only
tricked into a son-in-law you may be proud of: my friend Tom
Fashion is as honest a fellow as ever breathed.
_Love_. That he is, depend on't; and will hunt or drink with
you most affectionately: be generous, old boy, and forgive them--
_Sir Tun_. Never! the hussy! --when I had set my heart on
getting her a title.
_Lord Fop_. Now, Sir Tunbelly, that I am untrussed--give me
leave to thank thee for the very extraordinary reception I have
met with in thy damned, execrable mansion; and at the same time
to assure you, that of all the bumpkins and blockheads I have had
the misfortune to meek with, thou art the most obstinate and
egregious, strike me ugly!
_Sir Tun_. What's this! I believe you are both rogues alike.
_Lord Fop_. No, Sir Tunbelly, thou wilt find to thy
unspeakable mortification, that I am the real Lord Foppington,
who was to have disgraced myself by an alliance with a clod; and
that thou hast matched thy girl to a beggarly younger brother of
mine, whose title deeds might be contained in thy tobacco-box.
_Sir Tun_. Puppy! puppy! --I might prevent their being
beggars, if I chose it; for I could give 'em as good a rent-roll
as your lordship.
_Lord Fop_. Ay, old fellow, but you will not do that--for
that would be acting like a Christian, and thou art a barbarian,
stap my vitals.
_Sir Tun_. Udzookers! now six such words more, and I'll
forgive them directly.
_Love_. 'Slife, Sir Tunbelly, you should do it, and bless
yourself--Ladies, what say you?
_Aman_. Good Sir Tunbelly, you must consent.
_Ber_. Come, you have been young yourself, Sir Tunbelly.
_Sir Tun_. Well then, if I must, I must; but turn--turn that
sneering lord out, however, and let me be revenged on somebody.
But first look whether I am a barbarian or not; there, children,
I join your hands; and when I'm in a better humour, I'll give you
my blessing.
_Love_. Nobly done, Sir Tunbelly! and we shall see you dance
at a grandson's christening yet.
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, though, I don't understand this!
What! an't I to be a lady after all? only plain Mrs. --What's my
husband's name, nurse?
_Nurse_. Squire Fashion.
_Miss Hoyd_. Squire, is he? --Well, that's better than
nothing.
_Lord Fop. [Aside_. ] Now I will put on a philosophic air,
and show these people, that it is not possible to put a man of my
quality out of countenance. --[_Aloud_. ] Dear Tam, since
things are fallen out, pr'ythee give me leave to wish thee joy; I
do it _de bon coeur_, strike me dumb! You have married into
a family of great politeness and uncommon elegance of manners,
and your bride appears to be a lady beautiful in person, modest
in her deportment, refined in her sentiments, and of nice
morality, split my windpipe!
_Miss Hoyd_. By goles, husband, break his bones if he calls
me names!
_Fash_. Your lordship may keep up your spirits with your
grimace, if you please; I shall support mine, by Sir Tunbelly's
favour, with this lady and three thousand pounds a year.
_Lord Fop_. Well, adieu, Tam! --Ladies, I kiss your, hands! --
Sir Tunbelly, I shall now quit this thy den; but while I retain
the use of my arms, I shall ever remember thou art a demned
horrid savage; Ged demn me! [_Exit_. ]
_Sir Tun_. By the mass, 'tis well he's gone--for I should
ha' been provoked, by-and-by, to ha' dun un a mischief. Well, if
this is a lord, I think Hoyden has luck on her side, in troth.
_Col. Town_. She has, indeed, Sir Tunbelly. --But I hear the
fiddles; his lordship, I know, has provided 'em.
_Love_. Oh, a dance and a bottle, Sir Tunbelly, by all
means!
_Sir Tun_. I had forgot the company below; well--what--we
must be merry, then, ha? and dance and drink, ha? Well, 'fore
George, you shan't say I do these things by halves. Son-in-law
there looks like a hearty rogue, so we'll have a night on't: and
which of these ladies will be the old man's partner, ha? --Ecod, I
don't know how I came to be in so good a humour.
_Ber_. Well, Sir Tunbelly, my friend and I both will
endeavour to keep you so: you have done a generous action, and
are entitled to our attention. If you should be at a loss to
divert your new guests, we will assist you to relate to them the
plot of your daughter's marriage, and his lordship's deserved
mortification; a subject which perhaps may afford no bad
evening's entertainment.
_Sir Tun_. Ecod, with all my heart; though I am a main
bungler at a long story.
_Ber_. Never fear; we will assist you, if the tale is judged
worth being repeated; but of this you may be assured, that while
the intention is evidently to please, British auditors will ever
be indulgent to the errors of the performance. [Exeunt omnes. ]
THE CRITIC;
OR, A TRAGEDY REHEARSED _A DRAMATIC PIECE IN THREE ACTS_ TO
MRS. GREVILLE
_MADAM_,--In requesting your permission to address the
following pages to you, which, as they aim themselves to be
critical, require every protection and allowance that approving
taste or friendly prejudice can give them, I yet ventured to
mention no other motive than the gratification of private
friendship and esteem. Had I suggested a hope that your implied
approbation would give a sanction to their defects, your
particular reserve, and dislike to the reputation of critical
taste, as well as of poetical talent, would have made you refuse
the protection of your name to such a purpose. However, I am not
so ungrateful as now to attempt to combat this disposition in
you. I shall not here presume to argue that the present state of
poetry claims and expects every assistance that taste and example
can afford it; nor endeavour to prove that a fastidious
concealment of the most elegant productions of judgment and fancy
is an ill return for the possession of those endowments. Continue
to deceive yourself in the idea that you are known only to be
eminently admired and regarded for the valuable qualities that
attach private friendships, and the graceful talents that adorn
conversation. Enough of what you have written has stolen into
full public notice to answer my purpose; and you will, perhaps,
be the only person, conversant in elegant literature, who shall
read this address and not perceive that by publishing your
particular approbation of the following drama, I have a more
interested object than to boast the true respect and regard with
which I have the honour to be, Madam, your very sincere and
obedient humble servant, R.
