18 In his own voice. How should I know? what would you have [Aside to GRIPE. with him?Lie close. Have with him! look you, hur has no creat pus'ness, but hur would have satisfactions and reparations, look you, for credit and honours; by St. Tavy, he shall not put the injuries and uffronts upon my captains, look you now, sir. He affront the captain! he meddles with no man. You lie, sir, look you, and hur will give you beatings and chastisements, for your contradictions, when hur Welse plood is up, look you, and hur will cudgel your pack and your nootles for [Beats the sack. it ; that now. take you Hold, hold; will you murder me? I know not where he is, not I. Hur will teach saucy jacks how they provoke hur Welse ploods and hur collars: and for the old rogue, hur will have his guts and his plood, look you, sir, or hur will never wear leak upon St. Tavy's day more, look you. On! he has mauled me! a damned Welsh rascal. I'll not be beaten. Now, the Devil take me, I swear by him that made me, if thou dost not tell where is Gripe, but I will beat thy father's child very much indeed! What would you have me do? I cannot tell where he is. But what would you have with him? What would I have with him? By my shoul, if upon him for I do see him, I will make murder my captain's sake. Murder him? he'll not be murdered. If I do lay my eyes upon him, gad I will put my sword into his bowels, the devil take me ́indeed. What hast thou in that sack, joy? By my salvation, I will look into it. Gripe. You! the blows fell upon my shoul-it. ders. Oh ! Sca. 'Twas only the end of the stick fell on you; the main substantial part of the cudgel lighted on me. Gripe. Why did you not stand further off? In a Lancashire dialect. knaw whear th' awd rascal Griap is? Not I, sir; I know neither not I. By th'mess, an ay tack thee in hont, ay's raddle the bones on thee; ay's keeble thee to some tune. Me, sir? I don't understand you. Why, thaw'rt his mon, thaw hobble; I'll snite th'naes o'thee. Hold, hold, sir! what would you have with him? my kibbo, Why, Imun knock him down with the first bawt to the grawnt, and then I mun beat him to pup, by th' mess, and after ay mun he'll cut off the lugs and naes on 'em, and ay wot, be a pretty swatley fellee, bawt lugs and naes. Why, truly sir, I know not where he is; but he went dowu that Lane. This lone, saun ye? Ays find him, by'r lady, an he be above grawnt. So, he's gone; a damned Lancashire rascal! Sca. Hold; here's another. But you shall not. What have you to do with By my soul, joy, I will put my rapier into it! Gripe. Oh! oh! What, it does grunt, by my salvation, the devil take me, I will see it indeed. You shall not see my sack; I'll defend it with my life. Then I will make beat upon thy body; take that, joy, and that, and that, upon my shoul, and so I do take my leave, joy. [Beats him in the sack. A plague on him,he's gone; he has almost kill ed me. Gripe. I can hold no longer the blows all fell shoulders. upon my Sca. You can't tell me; they fell on mine: ok my shoulders. Gripe. Your's? Oh my shoulders. In a hoarse Seaman's voice. Where is the dog? I'll lay him on fore and aft, swinge him with a cat-o'-nine tail, keel haul and then hang him at the main yard. In broken French English. If there be no more men in England, I vill kill him; I vill put my rapier in his body. I vill give him two tree pushe in de gutte. Here ScAPIN acts a number of them together. We must go this way-'o the right hand? no whereevery to th' left hand-lie close-search by my salvation, I will kill the damned dog-and we do catch 'em, we'll tear 'em in pieces, and I do hear he went thick way-no, straight for ward. Hold, here is his man; where is your master-Damn me, where? In hell? Speak Hold, not so furiously—and you don't tell us where he is, we'll murder thee Do what you will, gentlemen I know not. Lay him on thick; thwack him soundly. Hold, hold; do what you will, I will ne'er betray my master. Knock 'en down; beat 'en soundly; to'en, at 'en, at 'en, at [As he is going to strike, GRIPE peeps out, and SCAPIN takes to his heels. Gripe. Oh, dog, traitor, villain! Is this your plot? Would you have murdered me, rogue? Unheard of impudence! Enter THRIFTY. Oh, brother Thrifty! You come to see me loaden with disgrace; the villain Scapin has, as I am sensible now, cheated me of 2001. This beating brings all into my memory. Thrifty. The impudent varlet has gulled me of the same sum. Grope. Nor was he content to take my money, bat has abused me at that barbarous rate, that I am ashamed to tell it; but he shall pay for it severely. Thrifty. But this is not all, brother; one misfortune is the forerunner of another: Just now I have received letters from London, that both our daughters have run away from their governesses, with two wild debauched young fellows, that they fell in love with. Enter LUCIA and CLARA. Luc. Was ever so malicious impudence seen? Ha! Surely, if I mistake not, that should be my father. Gripe. Hey-day! Thrifty. Oh, so! I have a wife for you. Oct. Good father, all your propositions are vain; I must needs be free, and tell you I am engaged. Thrifty. Look you now: is not this very fine? Now I have a mind to be merry, and to be friends with you, you'll not let me now, will you? I tell you, Mr. Gripe's daughter, here Oct. I'll never marry Mr. Gripe's daughter, sir, as long as I live: No, yonder she is, that I must love, and can never entertain the thoughts of any other. Cla. Yes, Octavian, I have at last met with my father, and all our fears and troubles are at an end. Thrifty. Lo ye now, you would be wiser than the father that begot you, would you? Did not I always say you should marry Mr. Gripe's daughter? But you do not know your sister Luce. Oct. Unlooked for blessing! Why, she's my friend Leander's wife? Thrifty. How? Leander's wife! Gripe. Indeed! Well, brother Thrifty, 'tis true the boy was always a good-natured boy.Well, now I am so overjoyed, that I could laugh till I shook my shoulders, but that I dare not, they are so sore. But look, here he comes. Enter LEANDer. Lean. Sir, I beg your pardon; I find my marriage is discovered; nor would I, indeed, have longer concealed it; this is my wife, I must own her. Gripe. Brother Thrifty, did you ever see the like? did you ever see the like? ha! Thrifty. Own her, quotha! Why, kiss her, kiss her, man; odsbodikins, when I was a young fellow, and was first married, I did nothing else for three months. Gripe. Well, 'tis his father's nown child. Just so, brother, was it with me upon my weddingday; I could not look upon my dear without blushing; but when we were a-bed, Lord ha' mercy upon us!--but I'll no more. Lean. Is, then, my father reconciled to me? Gripe. Reconciled to thee! Why, I love thee at my heart, man, at my heart; why, 'tis my brother Thrifty's daughter, Mrs. Lucy, whom I always designed for thy wife; and that's thy sister Clara, married to Mr. Octa, there. Lean. Octavian, are we then brothers? There is nothing that I could have rather wished, after compleating of my happiness with my charming Lucia. Thrifty. Come, sir, hang up your compliments in the hall at home; they are old, and out of fashion: Shift, go to the inn, and bespeak a supper may cost more money than I have got to pay for it, for I am resolved to run in debt to-night. ter Shift. I shall obey your commands, sir. Thrifty. Then, d'ye hear, send out and musup all the fiddlers, blind or not blind, drunk or sober, in the town; let not so much as the roaster of tunes, with his cracked cymbal in a case, escape you. Gripe. Well, what would I give now for the fellow that sings the song at my lord mayor's feast: I myself would make an epithalamium by way of sonnet, and he should set a tune to it; it was the prettiest he had last time. Enter SLY. Sly. Oh, gentlemen, here the strangest accident fallen out! Thrifty. What's the matter? Sly. Poor Scapin! Gripe. Ha! Rogue, let him be hanged! I'll hang him myself. Sly. Oh, sir, that trouble you may spare; for, passing by a place where they were building, a great stone fell upon his head, and broke his skull so, you may see his brains. Thrifty. Where is he? Sly. Yonder he comes. pressible grief that I should dare to lift my hand against Gripe. Hold thy peace, or die quickly; I tell thee I have forgot all Sca. Alas! How good a man you are! But, sir, d'ye pardon me freely, and from the bottom of your heart, those merciless drubs that——————— Gripe. Prithee, speak no more of it; I forgive thee freely; here's my hand upon't. Sca. Oh, sir, how much your goodness re[Pulls off his cap. Enter SCAPIN between two, his head wrapt up in vives me! linen, as if he had been wounded. Sca. Oh me! Oh me! Gentlemen, you see me, you see me in a sad condition, cut off like a flower in the prime of my years; but yet I could not die, without the pardon of those I have wronged; yes, gentlemen, I beseech you to forgive me all the injuries that I have done; but more especially I beg of you, Mr. Thrifty, and my good master, Mr. Gripe. Thrifty. For my part, I pardon thee freely; go, and die in peace. Sca. But 'tis you, sir, I have most offended, by the inhuman bastinadoes which Gripe. Prithee, speak no more of it; I forgive thee, too. Sca. 'Twas a most wicked insolence in me, that I should, with vile crabtree, cudgel Gripe. Pish! no more; I say I am satisfied. Gripe. How's that! Friend, take notice, I pardon thee; but 'tis upon condition, that you are sure to die. Sca. Oh me! I begin to faint again. Thrifty, Come, fie, brother! never let revenge employ your thoughts now; forgive him, forgive him without any condition. Gripe. A deuce on't, brother! as I hope to be saved, he beat me basely and scurvily, never stir he did: but, since you will have it so, I do forgive him. Thrifty. Now then, let's to supper, and in our mirth drown and forget all troubles. Sca. Ay, and let them carry me to the lower end of the table; Where, in my chair of state, I'll sit at ease, And eat and drink, that I may die in peace. [A dance.] [Exeunt omnes. SCENE I. A lawyer's is an honest employment; so is mine: like me, too, he acts in a double capa PEACHUM Sitting at a table, with a large book of city, both against rogues and for them; for accounts before him. AIR.-An old woman clothed in gray. THROUGH all the employments of life, Whore and rogue they call husband and wife; And the statesman, because he's so great, 'tis but fitting that we should protect and encourage cheats, since we live by them. Enter FILCH. Filch. Sir, Black Moll hath sent word her trial comes on in the afternoon; and she hopes you will order matters so as to bring her off. Peach. Why, as the wench is very active and industrious, you may satisfy her, that I'll soften the evidence. Filch. Tom Gagg, sir, is found guilty. time before, I told him what he would come togaging presence of mind upon the road. Wat if he did not mend his hand-This is death, without reprieve. I may venture to book him [Writes.]: for Tom Gagg, forty pounds. Let Betty Sly know, that I'll save her from tran sportation; for I can get more by her staying in England. than Filch. Betty hath brought more goods into our lock this year, any five of the gang; and, in truth, 'tis pity to lose so good a cus tomer. Peach. If none of the gang takes her off, she may, in the common course of business, live a twelvemonth longer. I love to let women 'scape. A good sportsman always lets the henpartridges fly, because the breed of the game depends upon them. Besides, here the law allows us no reward. There is nothing to be got by the death of women-except our wives. Filch. Without dispute she is a fine woman! 'twas to her I was obliged for my education. To say a bold word, she hath trained up more young fellows to the business than the gamingtable. Peach. Truly, Filch, thy observation is right. We, and the surgeons, are more beholden to women than all the professions besides. Her AIR.-The bonny grey-ey'd morn, &c. 'Tis woman that seduces all mankind; Peach. But make haste to Newgate, boy, and let my friends know what I intend: for I love to make them easy one way or other. Dreary, alias Brown Will; an irregular dog! Enter MRS. PEACHUM. Mrs. Peachum. What of Bob Booty, husband? I hope nothing bad hath betided him? You know, my dear, he's a favourite customer of mine; 'twas he made me a present of this ring. Peach. I have set his name down in the blacklist; that's all, my dear! he spends his life among women, and, as soon as his money is gone, one or other of the ladies will hang him for the reward; and there's forty pounds lost to us for ever! Mrs. Peach. You know, my dear, I never meddle in matters of death; I always leave those affairs to you. Women, indeed, are bitter bad judges in these cases, for they are so partial to the brave, that they think every man handsome who is going to the camp or the gallows. But really husband, you should not be too hard-hearted; for you never had a finer, Filch. When a gentleman is long kept in sus-braver set of men, than at present. We have not had a murder among them all these seven pence, penitence may break his spirit ever after. Besides, certainty gives a man a good months; and truly, my dear, that is a great air upon his trial, and makes him risk another blessing. without fear or scruple. But I'll away; for 'tis a pleasure to be the messenger of comfort to [Exit. friends in affliction. Peach. But it is now high time to look about me for a decent execution against next sessions. I hate a lazy rogue, by whom one can get nothing till he is hanged. A register of the gang. [Reading.] Crook-fingered Jack, a year and a half in the service: let me see how much the stock owes to his industry; one, two three, four, five gold watches, and seven silver ones. A mighty clean-headed fellow! Sixteen snuffboxes, five of them of true gold; six dozen of handkerchiefs, four silver-hilted swords, half a dozen of shifts, three tie-periwigs, and a piece of broad-cloth. Considering these are only fruits of his leisure hours, I don't know a prettier fellow; for no man alive hath a more en Peach. What a dickens is the woman always a whimpering about murder for? No gentleman is ever looked upon the worse for killing a man in his own defence; and, if business cannot be carried on without it, what would you have a gentleman do? So, my dear, have done upon this Was captain Macheath here this subject. morning for the banknotes he left with you last week? Mrs. Peach. Yes, my dear; and though the bank hath stopt payment, he was so cheerful, and so agrecable! Sure there is not a finer gentleman upon the road than the captain! If he comes from Bagshot at any reasonable hour, he hath promised to make one this evening with Polly, me, and Bob Booty, at a party at quadrille. Pray, my dear, is the captain rich? Peach. The captain keeps too good company |