(To Thomaso.) Zounds! sir, my character none shall accuse. Throughout this nation, (To Thomaso.) In bonds, conveyances, d'ye mind? Kind fortune, see, at length, our prayers heeding, you must defend. to church. The. Well, I'll be with you in a moment. [Exit. Car. (Aside to Juan.) For heaven's sake! Juan, let us be gone. If Sturmwald should wake, we are ruined. Juan. (Aloud.) I beg your pardon for detaining Stur. Thieves! thieves! Juan. Did not I tell you one of the rogues was hid there? I'll run and fetch an alguazil. Tho. You run! why, you forget you are lame. Juan. (In his natural voice.) Egad, so I do! but I am so interested in this business. Tho. And you have recovered your voice too! Juan. (Resuming his hoarse voice.) No, faith, I think I'm as hoarse as ever. Stur. Thomaso! Signor Thomaso! Tho. 'Tis the Captain's voice. Egad, I'll fetch an alguazil myself, and make sure of one of ye. [Exit. Stur. Signor Thomaso! Juan. Have a little patience. (Aside.) What's to be done? If I attempt the door, I meet the alguazil. I must e'en try this chamber window. (Pulls off his disguise, throws it down at the closetdoor, and then goes into Theresa's chamber.) Re-enter THOMASO. Tho. An alguazil will be here presently, and then, Mr. Scoundrel-(Sees the cloak and patch.) Heyday! what's all this? Stur. (In the closet.) Will nobody hear me? Tho. It is Sturmwald! Oh! my mind misgives me. (He hears a noise in the closet, and rushes in.) Re-enter THOMASO and STURMWALD. Tho. All my phials of drops broken! Let me tell you, Captain Sturmwald Stur. Zounds! sir, you shall tell me nothing but what I desire to know. I say, sir, how did I come in that closet? Tho. That's the very question I want to ask you: and, if we both ask the same question, how the devil are we to get an answer? Stur. Why, you dirty scrap of an apothecary, how dare you laugh at me thus? Tho. I laugh? Look at the bottles you've broken! I believe I shall never laugh again, Stur. You are all in the plot; 'tis a trick to abuse me; but I'll be revenged. "'Sblood and thunder! to make a jest of me, who have fought in sixteen different battles! Did you know that? Tho. Yes, you have often told me the names of them all. But, do you hear me, Captain ?— Stur. I'll hear nothing but revenge. To cram me up in a dark closet, among pickled snakes and stuffed alligators! me, who have lived amidst fire and smoke; who have fought for every prince in Europe by turns, and always had the honour to be wounded! Who, to this hour, bear the trophies of war in every limb, and rejoice in the aches, the cramps, and the twinges of glory! THERESA enters, and Thomaso explains to her, in dumb shew, what has passed. The. I am sure, Captain, I don't wonder at your being angry at my husband; he's a poor blundering creature, as often tell him. Tho. Nay, the Captain knows I never mean to offend him. I have done all I can. The. Psha! so you always say. Go, get an al two girls, do. [Exit Thomaso.] Come, Captain, supguazil, and seek for the rogues that have stolen our pose you and I follow him? For my sake, be patient. The brave never refuse the requests of the fair. Stur. Never; and to prove it, I'll tell you a story of what happened when I was in Germany. [Exeunt. Enter JUAN, in woman's clothes. red even for a mouse to creep through. However, Juan. This confounded window is too closely barin this disguise, I shink I shall get off undiscovered; or, if I should be questioned, I'll pass for a pa tient come to ask Thomaso's advice. Dr. Bil. (Speaking to a Servant as he comes on.) Don't tell me; I say he is at home, and I will see him. Juan. Who comes here? Dr. Bilioso himself! Enter DR. BILIOSO. (Seeing Juan.) Dr. Bil. But I beg pardon; you want advice, I presume; let me feel your pulse. (Attempting to take Juan's hand.) Juan. (Struggling.) Zounds! I shall be discovered. (Aside.) Dear sir, pray let me alone; my nerves are so weak, and you agitate me so. Dr. Bil. Why, really, madam, you have rather agitated me. I think I never yet met with a lady so strong in the arm. Pray, what is your complaint ma'am? Juan. My complaint is against Thomaso, who has killed a poor friend of mine. Dr. Bil. Oh, he has done worse than that; he has taken a patient away from me, after I had given him over. So, if he recovers the man, he ruins my reputation. There's an unfeeling scoundrel for you! Juan. Ah! you and I mean the same person; the poor gentleman at the next inn: but Thomaso's drops have done for him; my poor friend is no more. Dr. Bil. I'm heartily glad of it; very sorry for it, I mean. I thank you for the news, however. Now I have that rogue Thomaso in my gripe. Juan. Lose no time, sir, but get an officer immediately, and secure Thomaso. Dr. Bil. That I will. Ay, ay. (Going.) Juan. Surely, sir, you will have the gallantry to conduct me safe out of this house, if I should be insulted. Dr. Bil. Insulted! Lord, ma'am, there's no dan- SCENE III.-A Wood. Car. Consider, my dear Anna, we have your father's signature to our contract of marriage. -pass Car. Well, Isabella, any news of Juan? Isa. Alas! none. Every human being that ed at a distance, did my pliant fancy conjure up into a likeness of Juan. Car. The rising ground, on the left hand, commands a prospect of the road. Let me try whether friendship cannot see more clearly than love. Anna. Are not we a couple of wild girls, Isabella? Isa. Not incorrigible, my dear cousin, however; we have pursued a very effectual mode of taming ourselves, by getting married. Anna. To be sure, we have uttered the fatal yes. Isa. The fatal yes! Why, my dear, do you think our lovers are such fools, as to think the better or the worse of our affection for them, because we have said yes? AIR.-ISABElla. How mistaken is the lover, Who on words builds hopes of bliss! And fondly thinks we love discover, Yes." If, perchance, we answer Prompted often by discretion " Is the seeming kind expression, When the tongue, the heart belying, Dares not venture on denying; But, in spite of discontent, Gives the semblance of consent. Ah! how vain is art's profession, If the averted eyes deny? Happier far, the experienced swain Knows he triumph must attain, When in vain successless trial, Language gives the faint denial; While the eyes betray the fiction In delightful contradiction; And the cheeks with blushes glow, And the tongue still falters "No." How mistaken, &c. Enter CARLOS. Dr. Bil. Why, sir, that fellow is a quack, and has killed one of my patients. Tho. That's impossible; for, though he calls himself a physician, he has no patients to kill. Dr. Bil. What! do you forget the poor gentleman at the inn? Lover. Tho. Well, he was fair game. You had given him Dr. Bil. Zounds, sir! what does that signify? I have given over fifty people in my time, who have recovered afterwards. Juan. (Aside.) My plot has taken, I perceive; they believe him dead yet. (To Thomaso.) I'faith, this is a serious affair. You had better compound this business. Tho. He won't agree to it; he hates me so. Juan. (Aside to Thomaso.) Let me talk to him. Aside to Bilioso.) Sir, when I see so valuable a life as your's in danger Dr. Bil. My life in danger! Juan. From that bloody-minded apothecary. I find your son has eloped with his daughter, and he is resolved to be revenged, by assassinating you and your whole family. See, how he looks at you! Dr. Bil. Ratsbane and arsenic in his countenance! Juan. (Aside to Thomaso.) Did you ever see such a determined dog? He is resolved to hang you. Tho. I dare say he has the rope in his pocket. Pray, mollify him. Dr. Bil. (Aside to Juan.) I'faith, I don't half like him. Tell him, I'll forgive him. Juan. Dismiss your alguazils. [Exeunt Alguazils. You bind yourselves to stand by my determination? Dr. Bil. & Tho. We do. Juan. Then, I believe all parties are satisfied. Appear, appear. (Anna, Carlos, and Isabella, come forward.) Anna. My dear father! Tho. Zounds, what is all this? Enter THERESA, STURMWALD, and GUZMAN. Stur. A general muster of the whole corps, egad! deserters, and all. You are my prisoner, madam. (To Anna.) Car. No, sir; not while I can defend her. Anna (To Stur.) Oh, sir, hear me! the brave are ever generous: do not attempt a life so dear to me. Stur. Bullets and gunpowder! why, don't you love me, then? I thought you told me, mother-inlaw, it was all maiden coyness in her. The. Stuff and nonsense! Take her, Captain Sturmwald; she is your's. Defend your honour. Stur. And that my honour may be worth defending, I'll take care it shall not be tarnished by an unjust action. Anna, your mother says you are mine. If so, I dispose of what is mine, thus. (Giving her hand to Carlos.) Come, come, we have by mistake opposed the union of hearts on their march to form Car. Here is Juan. So all we have to do, is to a junction, and we are defeated. So much the betmount our horses, and gallop off. Enter JUAN. Juan. Hold; you're mistaken. You've something else to do, I assure you. We have certainly been traced from the village. Dr. Bilioso and Signor Thomaso are both coming up the hill different ways, and will most likely meet at this spot. But they are here. (Anna, Isabella, Carlos, and Juan, retire.) Enter DR.BILIOSO and THOMASO,meeting, each with an Alguazil. Dr. Bil. Oh! you vile quack! Where's my patient? Tho. Where is my daughter, you old rogue! You have assisted your son to run away with her. Lay hold of him, Alguazil. Dr. Bil. What! why, I brought an officer to seize you. Here, do your duty. (To the Alguazil.) Juan. (Coming forward.) Dear gentlemen, what's the matter? ter: who would wish to conquer in a bad cause? You must consent to unite these turtles. (To Thomaso.) Tho. Has my wife any objection? The. I'll have nothing to do with it; so, act as you please. Tho. Why, then, give me your hand, Doctor, (to Dr. Bilioso.), and here's an end of old quarrels. Take my daughter, young man, (to Carlos.) and you take my niece, (to Juan.) and you (to Sturmwald.) take my wife, if you will. Egad, I am in such a good humour, I could give away anything, A A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.-BY GEORGE FARQUHAR. Enter BONIFACE, running. Bar-bell rings. Bon. Chamberlain, maid, Cherry, daughter Cherry! All asleep, all dead? Enter CHERRY, running. Cher. Here, here! Why d'ye bawl so, father! D'ye think we have no ears? Bon. You deserve to have none, you young minx! the company of the Warrington coach has stood in the hall this hour, and nobody to shew them to their chambers. Cher. And let them wait, father; there's neither red coat in the coach, nor footman behind it. Bon. But they threaten to go to another inn tonight. Cher. That they dare not, for fear the coachman should overturn them to-morrow. (Ringing.) Coming, coming: here's the London coach arrived. Enter several People with trunks, bandboxes, and other luggage, who cross the stage. Bon. Welcome, ladies. Cher. Very welcome, gentlemen. Chamberlain, shew the Lion and the Rose. [Exit with the company. Enter AIMWELL, in a riding-habit, and ARCHER, as his Footman, carrying a portmanteau. Bon. This way, this way, gentlemen. Aim. Set down the things; go to the stable, and see my horses well rubbed. Arch. I shall, sir. [Exit. Aim. You're my landlord, I suppose? Bon. Yes, sir, I'm old Will Boniface; pretty well known upon this road, as the saying is. Aim. Oh! Mr. Boniface, your servant. Bon. Oh, sir! what will your honour please to drink, as the saying is? Aim. I have heard your town of Lichfield much famed for ale: I think I'll taste that. Bon. Sir, I have now in my cellar ten tun of the best ale in Staffordshire; 'tis smooth as oil, sweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy, and will be just fourteen years old, the fifth day of next March, old style. Aim. You are very exact, I find, in the age of your ale. Bon. As punctual, sir, as I am in the age of my children; I'll shew you such ale-here, tapster, Enter Tapster. broach number 1706, as the saying is. [Exit Tapster.] Sir, you shall taste my anno domino. I have lived in Lichfield, man and boy, above eight-andfifty years, and, I believe, have not consumed eight-and-fifty ounces of meat. Aim. At a meal you mean, if one may guess your sense by your bulk. Bon. Not in my life, sir; I have fed purely upon ale: I have eat my ale, drank my ale, and I always sleep upon my ale. Enter Tapster, with a tankard. Now, sir, you shall see. Your worship's health: ha! delicious! fancy it Burgundy; only fancy it, and 'tis worth ten shillings a quart. Aim. (Drinks.) 'Tis confounded strong. Bon. Strong! It must be so, or how would we be strong that drink it? Aim. And have you lived so long upon this ale, landlord? Bon. Eight-and-fifty years, upon my credit, sir; but it killed my wife, poor woman! as the saying is. Aim. How came that to pass? Bon. I don't know how, sir: she would not let the ale take its natural course, sir; she was for qualifying it every now and then with a dram, as the saying is; and an honest gentleman that came this way from Ireland, made her a present of a dozen bottles of usquebaugh; but the poor woman was never well after; however, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know. Aim. Why, was it the usquebaugh that killed her? Bon. My Lady Bountiful said so: she, good lady, did what could be done; she cured her of three tympanies, but the fourth carried her off; but she's happy, and I am contented, as the saying is. Aim. Who's that Lady Bountiful you mentioned? Bon. Ods my life, sir! we'll drink her health. (Drinks.) My Lady Bountiful is one of the best of women: her last husband, Sir Charles Bountiful, left her worth a thousand pounds a year; and I believe she lays out one half on't in charitable uses for the good of her neighbours; in short, she has cured more people in and about Lichfield within ten years, than the doctors have kill'd in twenty, and that's a bold word. Aim. Has the lady been any other way useful in her generation? Bon. Yes, sir, she has a daughter, by Sir Charles, the finest woman in all our country, and the greatest fortune; she has a son too, by her first husband, Squire Sullen, who married a fine lady from London t'other day; if you please, sir, we'll drink his health. Aim. What sort of a man is he? Bon. Why, sir, the man's well enough; says little, thinks less, and does nothing at all, faith! but he's a man of great estate, and values nobody. Aim. A sportsman, I suppose? Bon. Yes, sir, he's a man of pleasure; he plays at whist, and smokes his pipe eight-and-forty hours together sometimes. Aim. A fine sportsman, truly! and married, you say? Bon. Ay! and to a curious woman, sir. But he's a-he wants it here, sir. (Pointing to his forehead.) Aim. He has it there, you mean. Bon. That's none of my business; he's my landlord, and so, a man, you know, would not-but, ecod! he's no better than-sir, my humble service to you. (Drinks.) Though I value not a farthing what be can do to me: pay him his rent at quarter-day; I have a good running trade; I have but one daughter, and I can give her-but no matter for that. Aim. You are very happy, Mr. Boniface; pray, what other company have you in town? Bon. A power of fine ladies; and then we have the French officers. Aim. Oh! that's right; you have a good many of those gentlemen; pray, how do you like their company? Bon. So well, as the saying is, that I could wish we had as many more of them: they are full of money, and pay double for everything they have; they know, sir, that we pay good round taxes for the taking of them, and so they are willing to reimburse us a little one of them lodges in my house. Bon. Going to London, mayhap. Bon. An odd fellow this! (Bell rings.) I beg your worship's pardon, I'll wait on you in half a minute. [Exit. Aim. The coast is clear, I see. Now, my dear Archer, welcome to Lichfield. Arch. I thank thee, my dear brother in iniquity. Aim. Iniquity! pr'ythee leave canting; you need not change your style with your dress. Arch. Don't mistake me, Aimwell, for 'tis still my maxim, that there's no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty. Men must not be poor; idleness is the root of all evil; the world's wide enough, let them bustle: fortune has taken the weak under her protection, but men of sense are left to their industry. Aim. Upon which topic we proceed, and, I think, luckily hitherto. Would not any man swear now, that I am a man of quality, and you my servant; when, if our intrinsic value were known Arch. Come, come; we are the men of intrinsic value, who can strike our fortunes out of ourselves, whose worth is independent of accidents in life, or revolutions in government: we have heads to get money, and hearts to spend it. Aim. As to hearts, I grant ye they are as willing tits as any within twenty degrees; but I can have no great opinion of our heads from the service they have done us hitherto, unless it be that they brought us from London hither to Lichfield, made me a lord, and you my servant. Arch. That's more than you could expect already. But what money have we left? Aim But two hundred pounds. Arch. And our horses, clothes, rings, &c. Why, we have very good fortunes now for moderate people: and let me tell you, that this two hundred pounds, with the experience that we are now masters of, is a better estate than the ten thousand we have spent: our friends, indeed, began to suspect that our pockets were low; but we came off with flying colours, shewed no signs of want either in word or deed. Aim. Ay! and our going to Brussels was a good pretence enough for our sudden disappearing; and, I warrant you, our friends imagine that we are gone a volunteering. Arch. Why, faith! if this project fails, it must even come to that. I am for venturing one of the hundreds, if you will, upon this knight-errantry; but in case it should fail, we'll reserve the other to carry us to some counterscarp, where we may die as we lived, in a blaze. Aim. With all my heart; and we have lived justly, Archer; we can't say that we have spent our fortunes, but that we have enjoyed them. Arch. Right; so much pleasure for so much money; we have had our pennyworths; and had I millions I would to the same market again. 0, London, London. Well, we have had our share, and let us be thankful: past pleasures, for aught I know, are best, such as we are sure of: those to come may disappoint us. But you command for the day, and so I submit. At Nottingham, you know, I am to be master. Aim. And at Lincoln, I again. Arch. Then at Norwich I mount; which, I think, shall be our last stage; for if we fail there, we'll embark for Holland, bid adieu to Venus, and wel- | Lookye, child, as the saying is, we must go cuncome Mars. Aim. A match! Mum! Enter BONIFACE. ningly to work; proofs we must have; the gentleman's servant loves drink, I'll ply him that way; and ten to one he loves a wench, you must work him t'other way. Cher. Father, would you have me give my secret Bon. What will your worship please to have for for his? supper? Aim. What have you got? Bon. Sir, we have a delicate piece of beef in the pot, and a pig at the fire. Aim. Good supper meat, I must confess. I can't eat beef, landlord. Arch. And I hate pig. Aim. Hold your prating; sirrah! Do you know who you are? (Aside.) Bon. Please to bespeak something else; I have everything in the house. Aim. Have you any veal? Bon. Veal, sir! we had a delicate loin of veal on Wednesday last. Aim. Have you got any fish, or wild fowl? Bon. As for fish, truly, sir, we are an inland town, and indifferently provided with fish, that's the truth on't; but then, for wild fowl-we have a delicate couple of rabbits. Aim. Get me the rabbits fricasseed. Bon. Fricasseed! Lard, sir! they'll eat much better smothered with onions. Arch. Psha! rot your onions! Aim. Again, sirrah! Well, landlord, what you please; but, hold, I have a small charge of money, and your house is so full of strangers, that I believe it may be safer in your custody than mine; for when this fellow of mine gets drunk he minds nothing. Here, sirrah, reach me the strong box. Arch. Yes, sir. This will give us reputation. (Aside: brings the box.) Aim. Here, landlord, the locks are sealed down, both for your security and mine; it holds somewhat above two hundred pounds: if you doubt it, I'll count them to you after supper; but be sure you lay it where I may have it at a minute's warning; for my affairs are a little dubious at present; perhaps I may be gone in half an hour; perhaps I may be your guest till the best part of that be spent; and pray order your ostler to keep my horses ready saddled; but one thing above the rest, I must beg that you will let this fellow have none of your anno domino, as you call it; for he's the most insufferable sot-here, sirrah, light me to my chamber. Arch. Yes, sir. [Exit, lighted by Archer. Enter CHERRY. Cher. D'ye call, father? Bon. Ay, child, you must lay by this box for the gentleman, 'tis full of money. Cher. Money: is all that money? why, sure, father, the gentleman comes to be chosen parliament-man. Who is he? Bon. I don't know what to make of him; he talks of keeping his horses ready saddled, and of going, perhaps, at a minute's warning, or of staying, perhaps, till the best part of this be spent. Cher. Ay! ten to one, father, he's a highwayman. Bon. A highwayman! Upon my life, girl, you have hit it; and this box is some new purchased booty. Now, could we find him out, the money were our's. Cher. He don't belong to our gang. Cher. The master rides upon a black. Bon. A black! ten to one the man upon the black mare; and since he don't belong to our fraternity, we may betray him with a safe conscience. I don't think it lawful to harbour any rogues but my own. Bon. Consider, child, there's two hundred pounds to boot. (Ringing without.) Coming, coming. Child, mind your business. [Exit. I deny it. My mother was a good, generous, freeCher. What a rogue is my father! My father! hearted woman, and I can't tell how far her good children. This landlord of mine, for I think I can nature might have extended for the benefit of her daughter into the bargain-by a footman, too! call him no more, would betray his guest, and his Arch. Why, then, you're but even with me; for the minute I came in, I was considering in what manner I should make love to you. Cher. Love to me, friend! Arch. Yes, child. Cher. Child! Manners! if you keep a little more distance, friend, it would become you much better. Arch. Distance! good night, saucebox! (Going.) Cher. A pretty fellow! I like his pride. Sir! pray, sir-you see, sir, (Archer returns) I have the credit to be trusted with your master's fortune here, sir, you a'n't affronted. which sets me a degree above his footman. I hope, tell you whether you can affront me or no. 'Sdeath! Arch. Let me look you full in the face, and I'll child, you have a pair of delicate eyes, and you don't know what to do with them. Cher. Why, sir, don't I see everybody? would kill everybody. Pr'ythee, instruct me; Arch. Ay! but if some women had them they would fain make love to you, but I don't know what to say. Cher. Why, did you never make love to anybody before? Arch. Never to a person of your figure, I can been confined to persons within my own sphere; I assure you, madam; my addresses have always never aspired so high before. (Sings.) "But you look so bright, Cher. Will you give me that song, sir? Arch. Ay, my dear! take it while it is warm. (Kisses her.) Death and fire! her lips are honeycombs. Cher. And I wish there had been a swarm of bees too, to have stang you for your impudence. Arch. There's a swarm of Cupids, my little Venus, that has done the business much better. Cher. This fellow is misbegotten as well as I. (Aside.) What's your name, sir? Arch. Name! Egad! I have forgot it. (Aside.) Cher. Where was you born? Cher. What was your father? Arch. Of-of-St. Martin's parish. Cher. You may depend upon it. Cher. That you are very impudent. |