Abbildungen der Seite


set out, though it exposes us to a discovery. Jestly he entered into my griess, you would

Oli. May every thing you do prove as for- love him as I do. [A cry without, Stop him] tunale. Indeed, Leontine, we have been most Fire and fury! they have seized the incendiary: cruelly disappointed. Mr. Honeywood's bill they have the villain, the incendiary in view. upon the city has, it seems, been protested, Stop bim, stop an incendiary, a murderer; and we have been utterly at a loss how to stop him.


Oli. Oh, my terrors! what can this new Leon, How! an offer of his own too. Sure tumult mean? he could not mean to deceive us.

I Leon. Some new mark, I suppose, of Mr. Oli. Depend upon his sincerity; he only Honeywood's sincerity; but we shall bave samistook the desire for the power of serving tisfaction: he shall give me instant satisfaction, us. But let us think no more of it. I wish Oli. It must not be, my Leontine; whatever the post-chaise was ready

be our fate, let us not adi guilt to our misThey go up the Stage. fortunes: you just forgive him.

Leon. Forgive him! Has he not in every Enter CROAKER, unperceived. instance betrayed us? Forced me to borrow Croak. Well, while my friend Honeywood money from him, which appears a mere trick is upon the post of danger at the bar, it must to delay us? promised to keep my father enbe my business to have an eye about me here. gaged till we were out of danger, and here I think I know an incendiary's look; for wher-brought him to the very scene of our escape ? over the devil makes a purchase, he never fails Oli. Don't be precipitate; we may yet be to set bis mark.-Ha! who have we here? My mistaken. son and daughter! What can they be doing here?

Aside. Enter Postboy, dragging in Jarvis, followed Oli. Every moment we stay increases our

by HONEYWOOD. danger, and adds more to my apprehensions. Post. Ay, master, we have him fast enough:

Leon. There's no danger, isHoney wood has here is the incendiary dog. I'm entitled to the kept my father, as he promised, in employment. reward. I'll take my oath I saw him ask for

Oli. My fears are from your father's sus- the money at the bar, and then run for it. picions.

* Honey. Come, bring him along; let us see Leon. But, believe me, Olivia, you have no bim. [Discovers his Mistake Death! what's great reason to dread his resentment. His re- here? Jarvis, Leontine, Olivia? What can all pining temper, as it does no• manner of injury this mean? io himself, so will it never do harm to others; Jar. Why, I'll tell you wbat it means: that he only frels to keep himse'f employed, and I was an old fool, and that you are my mascolds for his private amusement.

ster-that's all. Oli. I don't know that; but I'm sure, on Honey. Confusion. some occasions, it makes him look most sbock-1 Leon. Yes, sir, I find you have kept your ingly.

word with me. After such baseness, I'wonder Croak. [Discovers himself | How does he how you can venture to see the man you look now? - How does he look now?

bave injured. Oli. Ah!

1. Honey. My dear Leontine, by my life, my Leon. Undone,

bonour Croak. How do I look now? Sir, I am your Leon. Peace, peace, for shame; I know you, very humble servant. Madam, I am yours. sir; I know you. What, you are going off, are you? Then Honey. Wły, won't you hear me? By all first, if you please, take a word or two from that's just, I knew notme with you before you go. Tell me first Leon. İlear you, sir! to what purpose? I where you are going? and when you have now see through all your low arts; your ever told me that, perhaps I shall know as little as complying with every opinion; your never I did before.

frefusing any request; your friendship as comLeon. If that be so, our answer might but mon as a prostituie's favours, and as fallaincrease your displeasure, without adding to cious; all these, sir, have long been contemptyour information.

Jible to the world, and are now perfectly so Croak. I want no information from you, to me. puppy: and you too, good madam, what an- Honey. Ha! contemptible to the world! swer have you got, eh? [A cry without, Stop that reaches me.

[ Aside. him] I think I heard a noise. My friend, Leon. All the seeming sincerity of your Honeywood, without-has he seized the incen-professions, I now lind were only allurements diary? Ah, no; for now I hear no more on't. io betray; and all your seeming regret for their

Leon. Honeywood, without! Then, sir, it consequences, only calculated to cover the was Mr. Honeywood that directed you bither? |cowardice of your heart. Draw, villain!

Croak. No, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood conducted me hither.

Re-enter CROAKER, out of Breath. Leon. Then, sir, he's a villain.

Croak. How, sirrah, a villain! because he Croak. Where is the villain? Where is the takes most care of your father? Honeywood incendiary? [Seizes the Postboy] Hold him is a friend to the family, and I'll have him fast, the dog; he has the gallows in his face. treated as such.

Come, you dog, confess; confess all, and hang Leon. I shall study to repay his friendship yourself. as it deserves.

'Post. Zounds, master, what do you throttle Croak. Ab, rogue, if you knew how earn- me for?

Croak. [Beats him] Dog, do you resist?| Miss R. Married! to wbom, sir? do you resist ?

Croak. To Olivia; my daugter, as I took Post. Zounds, master, I'm not be; there's her to be; but who the devil she is, or whose the man that we thought was the rogue, and daughter she is, I know no more than the turns out to be one of the company,

man in the moon. Croak. How?

| Sir W. Then, sir, it will be cnough at preHoney. Mr. Croaker, we have all been un- sent to assure you, that, both in point of birth der a strange mistake here; I find there is and fortune, the young lady is at least your nobody guilty: it was all an error; entirely son's equal. Being left by her father, sir James an error of our own.

Woodville Croak. What, you intend to bring 'em off, Croak. Sir James Woodville! What, of I suppose; I'll hear nothing.

the west ? Honey. Madam, you seem at least calm Sir W. Being left by him, I say, to the care enough to hear reason.

of a mercenary wretch, whose only aim was Oli. Excuse me.

to secure ber fortune to himself, she was sent Honey. Good Jarvis, let me then explain into France, under pretence of education; and it to you.

there every art was tried to fix her for life in Jar. What signifies explanations when the a convent, contrary to her inclinations. Of this thing is done?

I was informed upon my arrival at Paris; and, Honey. Will nobody bear me? Was there as I had been once her father's friend, I did ever such a set, so blinded by passion and all in my power to frustrate her guardian's prejudice !-My good friend, I believe you'll base intentions. I had even meditated to rebe surprised when I assure you

scue her from his authority, when your son

[To the Postboy.stept in with more pleasing violence, gave her Post. Sure me nothing-I'm sure of nothing liberty, and you a daughter. but a good beating.

| Croak. But I intend to have a daughter of Croak. Come then, you, madam, if you ever my own choosing, sir. A young lady, sir, hope for any favour or forgiveness, tell me whose fortune, by my interest with those that sincerely all you know of this affair.

have interest, will be double what my son Oli. Unhappily, sir, I'm but too much the has a right to expect. Do you know Mr. cause of your suspicions: you see before you, Lofty, sir? sir, one that with false pretences bas slept into Sir W. Yes, sir; and know that you are your family to betray it: not your daughter-deceived in him. · But step this way, and I'll Croak. Not my daughter!"

convince you. [Croaker and Sir William Oli. Not your daughter; but a mean decei

Honeywood talk apart. ver-who-support me-I cannot Honey. Help-give her air.

Re-enter HoneyWOOD. Croak. Ay, ay, take the young woman to Honey. Obstinale man, still to persist in the air; I would not hurt a bair of her head, his outrage! Insulted by him, despised by all, whose ever daughter she may be-not so bad I now begin to grow contemptible even to as that neither. [E.reunt all but Croaker] myself. How have I sunk by too great an Yes, yes, all's out; I now see the whole af- assiduity to please! How have I overtar'd all fair: my son is either married, or going to my abilities,' lest the approbation of a single be so, to this lady, whom he imposed upon fool should escape me!" But all is now over; me as his sister. Ay, certainly so. And yet I have survived my reputation, my fortune, I don't find it afflicts me so much as one my friendships, and nothing remains hencemight think: there's the advantage of fretting forward for me but solitude and repentance. away our inisfortunes beforehand; we never Miss R. Is it true, Mr. Honeywood, that feel them when they come.

you are setting off, without taking leave of

your friends? The report is, that you are Enter Miss RiCHLAND and SIR WILLJAM lquilting England. Can' it be? HONEYWOOD.

| Honey. Yes, madam, I leave you to hapSir W. But how do you know, madam, ipiness; to one who loves you, and deserves that my nephew intends setting off from this your love; to one who has power to procure place?

you affluence, and generosity to improve your Miss R. My maid assured me he was come enjoyment of it. to this ion; and my own knowledge of his Miss R. And are you sure, sir, that the intending to leave the kingdom, suggested the gentleman you mean is what you describe him? rest. But what do I see? my guardian here Honey. I have the best assurances of it. before us! Who, my dear sir, could have ex- As for me, weak and wavering as I have been, pected meeling you bere? to what accident do obliged by all, and incapable of serving any, we owe this pleasure ?

what happiness can I find but in solitude? Croak. To a fool, I believe.

what bope but in being forgotten? Miss R. But to what purpose did you come? Miss R. A thousand! to live among friends Croak. To play the fool.

that esteem you, whose happiness it will be Miss R. But with whom?

to be permitted to oblige you. Croak. With greater fools than myself. | Honey. No, madam; my resolution is fixed. Miss R. Explain.

Inferiority among strangers is easy; but among Croak. Why, Mr. Honeywood brought me those that once were equals, insupportable. here, to do noihing now I am here; and my Nay, to show you how far my resolution can son is going to be married to I don't know go, I can now speak with calmness of my who, that is herc; so now you are as wise aslam. former follies. I will even confess, that, among

ibe number of my other presumptions, I badi Croak. No, for the soul of me; I think it the insolence to think of loving you. Yes, was as confounded a bad answer as ever was madam, wbile I was pleading the passion of sent from one private gentleman to another. another, my heart was tortured with its own. Lofty. And so you can't find out the force Miss R. You amaze me!

of the message? Why I was in the house at Honey. But you'll forgive it, I know you that very time. Ha, ha! It was I that sent will; since the confession should not bave that very answer to my own letter. Ha, ba! come from me even now, but to convince you Croak. Indeed! How? why? of the sincerity of my intention of — never Lofty. In one word, things between sir mentioning it more.

[Going. William and me must be behind the curtain. Miss R. Stay, sir, one moment. Ha! he here! A party bas many eyes. He sides with lord

Buzzard, I side with sir .Gilbert Goose. So Enter LOFTY.

lihat unriddles the mystery. Lofty. Is the coast clear? None but friends. Croak. And so it does indeed, and all my I have followed you here with a trifling piece suspicions are over. of intelligence: but it goes no further, things Lofty. Your suspicions! What then you are not yet ripe for a discovery. I have spirits have been suspecting, you have been suspecting, working at a certain board; your affair at the have you? Mr. Croaker, you and I were Treasury will be done in less than a thou-friends, we are friends no longer. sand years. Mum!

| Croak. As I hope for your favour, I did Miss R. Sooner, sir, I should hope. not mean to offend.It escaped me. Don't

Lofty. Why, yes, I believe it may, if it be discomposed. falls into proper hands, that know where to! Lofiy. Zounds, sir, but I am discomposed, push and 'wliere to parry; that know how the and will be discomposed. To be treated thus! land lies. Eh, Honeywood.

Who am I? Was it for this I have been Miss R. It is fallen into yours.

dreaded both by ins and outs? Have I been Lofty. Well, to keep you no longer in libelled in the Gazelteer, and praised in the suspense, your thing is done. It is done, If St. James's? Have I been chaired at Wild. say; that's all. I have just had assurancesman's, and a speaker at Merchant-tailors' Hall? from lord Neverout, that' the claim has been Have I had my hand to addresses, and my esamined, and found admissible. Quietus is head in the print-shops, and talk to me of the word, madam.

suspect Honey. But how? his lordship has been at Croak. My dear sir, be pacified. What Newmarket these ten days.

can you have but asking pardon? Lofty. Indeed! 'Then sir Gilbert Goose must Lofty. Sir, I will not be pacified! Suspect! have been most damnably mistaken. I had Who am I? To be used thus, hare I paid it of him.

court to men in favour to serve my friends, Miss R. lle? Why, sir Gilbert and his fa- the lords of the Treasury, sir William Honeymily have been in the country this inonth. wood, and tbe rest of the gang, and talk to

Lofty. This month? It must certainly be so. me of suspect! Who am I, I say, who am I? Sir Gilbert's letter did come to me from New Sir W. Since, sir, you're so pressing for an market, so that he must have met his lordship answer, I'll tell you who you are. A gentlethere; and so it came about. I have his letter man, as well acquainted with politics, as with about me, I'll read it to you. [Taking out a men in power; as well acquainted with perlarge Bundle] That's from Paoli of Corsica, sons of fashion, as with modesty; with lords that from the marquis of Squilachi. Have of the Treasury, as with truth; and with all, you a mind to see a letter from count Ponia- as you are with sir William Honeywood. I towski, now king of Poland ? Honest Pon-am sir William Honeywood. [Searching) 0, sir, what are you here too? [Discovers his Ensigns of the Bath. l'il tell you wbat, honest friend, if you have Croak. Sir William Honeywood! not absolutely delivered my letter to sir Wil- Honey. Astonishment! my uncle! [Aside. liam Honeywood, you may return it. The Lofty. So then my confounded genius has thing will do without him.

been all this time only leading me up to the Sir W. Sir, I have delivered it, and must garret, in order to fling me out of the window. inform you, it was received with the most Croak. What, Mr. Importance, and are mortifying contempt.

these your works? Suspect you! You who Croak. Contempi! Mr. Lofty, what can that have been dreaded by the ins and outs: you mean?

who have had your hand to addresses, and Lofly. Let him go on, let him go on, I say. your head stuck up in print-shops. If you You'll find it come to something presently. were served right, you should have your head

Sir W. Yes, sir, I believe you'll be amazed, stuck up in the pillory. if, after waiting some time in the anti-chamber, Lofly. Ay, stick it where you will, for, by after being surveyed with insolent curiosity by the Lord, it cuts but a very poor figure where the passing scrvants, I was at last assured, it sticks at present. that sir William Honeywood knew no such Sir W. Well, Mr. Croaker, I hope you person, and I must certainly have been im- now see how incapable this gentleman is of posed upon.

serving you, and how little miss Richland has Lofty: Good; let me die, very good. Ha, to expect from his influence. ha, ta!

| Croak. Ay, sir, too well I see it, and I can't Croak. Now, for my life, I can't find out but say I have had some boding of it these half the goodness of it.

ten days. So I'm resolved, since my son bas Lofty. You can't? Ha, ha!

placed his affections on a lady of moderate fortune, to be satisfied with his choice, and which may give strength to the mind, and not run the hazard of another Mr. Lofty, in marshal all its dissipated virtues. Yet, ere I helping him to a better.

depart, permit me to solicit favour for this Sir W. I approve your resolution, and here gentleman; who, notwithstanding what has they come to receive a confirmation of your happened, has laid me under the most signal pardon and consent.

obligations. Mr. Lofty

Lofty. Mr. Honeywood, I'm resolved upon Re-enter Mrs. CROAKER, JARVIS, LEONTINE, a reformation, as well as you. I now begin and OLIVIA.

to find, that the man who first invented the Mrs. C. Where's my husband? Come, come, art of speaking truth was a much cunninger lovey, you must forgive them. Jarvis here fellow than I thought him. And to prove that has been to tell me the whole affair; and, II design to speak iruth for the future, I must say, you must forgive them. Our own was now assure you, that you owe your late ena stolen match, you know, my dear; and we largement to another; as, upon my soul, I never had any reason to repent of it.

had no hand in the matter. So now, if any Croak. I wish we could hoth say so: how- of the company bas a mind for prefermeni, ever, this gentleman, sir William Honey- he may take my place. I'm determined to wood, has been beforehand with you in ob- resign.

[Exit. taining their pardon. So, if the two pror fools Honey. How have I been deceived? have å mind to marry, I think we can tack Sir W. No, sir, you have been obliged to them together without crossing the Tweed for it. a kinder, fairer friend for that favour. To

[Joining their Hands. miss Richland. Would she complete our joy, Leon. How blest, and unexpected! What, and make the man she has honoured by her what can we say to such goodness? But our friendship happy in her love, I should then future obedience shall be the best reply. And, forget all, and be as blest as the welfare of as for this gentleman, to wbom we owe- my dearest kinsman can make me. .

Sir W. Excuse me, sir, if I interrupt your Miss R. After what is past, it would be but thanks, as I bave here an interest that calls affectation to pretend to indifference. Yes, I me. [Turning to Honeywood Yes, sir, you will own an attachment, which I find was are surprised to see me; and I own that a more than friendship. And if my entreaties desire of correcting your follies led me hither. cannot alter his resolution to quit the country, I saw, with indignation, the errors of a mind I will even try if my hand bas not power to that only sought applause from others; that detain him.

[Giving her Hand. easiness of disposition, which, though inclined Honey. Heavens! how can I have deserved to the right, had not courage to condemn the all this? How express my happiness, my grawrong. I saw, with regret, those splendid Litude? A moment like this overpays an age errors, that still took name from some neigh- of apprehension. bouring duty. Your charity, that was but in- Croak. Well, now I see content in every justice; your benevolence, that was but weak-face; but heaven send we be all better this ness; and your friendship but credulity. I saw, day three months. with regret, great talents and extensive learning Sir W. Henceforth, nephew, learn to respect only employed to add sprightliness to error, yourself. Ile who seeks only for applause and increase your perplexities. I saw your from without, has all his happiness in another's mind with a thousand natural charms: but the keeping. greatness of its beauty served only to heighten Honey. Yes, sir, I now too plainly perceire my pity for its prostitution.

my errors. My vanily, in attempting to please Honey. Cease lo upbraid me, sir; I have all, by fearing to offend any. My meanness for some time but too strongly felt the justice in approving folly, lest fools should disapprove. of your reproaches. But there is one way Henceforth, therefore, it shall be my study to still left me. Yes, sir, I have determined, this reserve my pily for real distress; my friendvery hour, to quit for ever a place where I ship for true merit; and my love for her, have made myself the voluntary slave of all, who first taught me what it is to be happy. and to seek among strangers that forlitude



or, The Mistakes of a Night; Comedy by Oliver Goldsmith, acted at Covent-Garden 1773. When this piece was originally brought forward, the taste of the nation had sickened with a preposterous love for what was termed sentimental comedy; that is, a dramatic composition, in which the ordinary business of life, which, in a free country, like Great Britain, produces such a diversity of character, was to be superseded by an unnatural affectation of polished Great Britain, Pa s suena

'." dialogue, in which the usages and singularities of the multitude were to be nearly, if not altogether, rejected. "

This false laste was borrowed from France; where it was the practice then, more than at the present day, to keep, what they were pleased to term, the higher order of comedy, in a material sense unconnected with the unshackled ebullitions of nature ; and Kelly, and others, were enforcing this principle with ardour, when Oliver Goldsmith planted the standard of Thalia on the boards of Covent-Garden Thealre, and banished, triumphantly, those mawkish monsters of fashion, which were tending to make sentiment ridiculous, by dissolving its ties with common incidents, and thereby rendering it somewhat independent of social virlac, by weakening its moral interest. The elder Colman, whose theatrical jadgment was highly esteemed by the critical world, had suffered himself to be so inoculated with this sentimental influenza of the miod, that he rather tolerated this comedy from a respect to the author, than encouraged it from a hope of its success; even the actors caught the contagion; and Woodward and Smith, who were designed to play 'Tony Lumpkin and Young Marlow, resigned their parts. It was to this fanciful resignation that Quick and Lee Lewes awd

much of their early celebrity : for, coulrary to the declarations of the knowing ones, John Hull welcomed this comedy with cheers; and, by the aid of Goldsmith, Naturo and Laughter resumed their honours on the British stage. We know that this piece is, hý some critics, considered as a farce; but still it must be ranked among the farces of a man of genias. One of the most ludicrous circumstances it contains (Umat of the robbery) is borrowed from Albumazar. It met with great success, and is sull frequently acted.










humour. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must Scene I. A Chamber in an old-fashioned allow the boy a little humour. House.

Hard. I'd sooner allow him an horsepond.

If burning the foolman's shoes, frighting the Enter HARDCASTLE and Mrs. HARDCASTLE. maids, worrying the kittens, be humour, be

Mrs. H. I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very bas it. It was but yesterday he fastened my particular. Is there a creature in the whole wig to the back of my chair, and when I went country, but ourselves, that does not take a to make a bow, I popp'd my bald head into trip to town now and then to rub off the rust Mrs. Frizzle's face. a little? There's the two miss loggs, and our Mrs. H. And am I to blame? The poor boy neighbour, Mrs. Grigsby, go to take a month's was always too sickly to do any good. Á polishing every winier.

school would be his death. When he comes Hard. Ay, and bring back vanily and affec- to be a litle stronger, who knows what a tation to last them the whole year. I wonder year or two's Latin may do for him? wby London cannot keep its own fools at Hard. Latin for him! a cat and a liddle. home. lo my time, the follies of the town No, no, the alehouse and the stable are the crept slowly among us, but now they travel only schools he'll ever go lo. faster than a stage-coach. Its fopperies come Mrs. H. Well, we must not soub the poor down, not only as inside passengers, but in boy now; for I believe we shan't have bim the very basket.

long among us. Any body that looks in his Mrs. H. Ay, your times were fine times face may see he's consumptive. indeed; you have been telling us of them for Hard. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the many, a long year. Here we live in an old symploms. rumbling mansion, that looks for all the world Mrs. H. He coughs sometimes. like an inn, but that we never see company. Hard. Yes, when bis liquor goes the Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, the wrong way: curate's wise, and liule Cripplegate, the lame Mrs. H. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. dancingmaster; and all our entertainment your Hard. And truly so am I; for he someold stories of prince Eugene and the duke times whoops like a speaking-trumpet-[Tony of Marlborough. I hate such old-fasbioned hallooing behind the Scenes] - 0 there be trumpery.

goes-A very consumptive figure, truly. Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's old: old friends, old times, old manners,

Enter Tony, crossing the Stage. old books, old wine; and I believe, Dorothy, Mrs. H. Tony, where are you going, my [Taking her Hand you'll own I have been charmer? Won't you give papa and I a little prelty fond of an old wife.

of your company, lovee? Mrs. H. Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're for Tony. I'm in haste, mother, I can't stay. ever at your Dorothy's, and your old wives. Mrs. H. You shan't venture out this raw You may be a Darby, but I'll be no Joan, 1 evening, my dear; you look most shockingly. promise you. I'm not so old as you'd make Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three ine by more than one goud year. Add twenty Pigeons expect me down every moment. There's lo twenly, and make money of that. some fun going forward.

Hard. Let me see; twenty added to twenly Hard. Ay; the alebouse, the old place: I makes just fifty and seven.

thought so. Mrs. H. Ils false, Mr. Hardcastle: I was but Mrs. H. A low, paltry set of fellows. twenty, when I was brought to bed of Tony, Tony. Not so low, neither. There's Dick that I had by Mr. Lumpkin, niy first husband; Muggins the exciseman, Jack Slang the borseand he's not come to years of discretion yel. doctor, little Aminidab' that grinds the music

Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for box, and Tom Twist that spins the pewter him. Ay, you have taught him finely: platter.

Mrs. H. No matter; Tony Lumpkin has a Mrs. H. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for good fortune. My son is not to live by his one night at least. learning. I don't think a boy wants much Tony. As for disappointing them, I should learning to spend fifteen hundred a year. not so much mind: but I can't abide to dis

Hard. Learning, quotba! a mere composition appoint myself. of tricks and mischief.

Mrs. H. [Detaining him] You shan't go. Mrs. H. Humour, my dear; nothing but! Tony. I will, I tell you.

« ZurückWeiter »