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Lyd. Indeed, Sir Lucius, I am not.
I never interfered before; but let me have a hand [Lydia and Absolute walk aside. in the matter at last. All the faults I have eve" Mrs. M. Sir Lucius O'Trigger, ungrateful as seen in my friend Faulkland, seemed to proceed you are, I own the soft impeachment; pardon my from what he calls the delicacy and warmth of camelion blushes, I am Delia.
his affection for you. There, marry him directly, Sir L. You Delia ? pho, pho, be easy. Julia ; you'll find he'll mend surprisingly. Mrs. M. Why thou barbarous Vandyke, those
(The rest come forward. letters are mine. When you are more sensible Sir L. Come, now, I hope there is no dissatis of my benignity, perhaps I may be brought to en-fied person but what is content; for as I have been courage your addresses.
disappointed myself, it will be very hard if I have Sir L. Mrs. Malaprop, I am extremely sensi- not the satisfaction of seeing other people succeed ble of your condescension; and whether you or betterLucy have put this trick upon me, I am equally Acres. You are right, Sir Lucius. So, Jack, I beholden to you. And, to show you I am not wish you joy.-Mr. Faulkland, the same. Ladies, ungrateful, Captain Absolute, since you have come now, to show you I'm neither vexed nor taken that lady from me, I'll give you my Delia angry, odds tabors and pipes ! I'll order the fiddles into the bargain.
in half an hour, to the New Rooms-and I insist Capt. A. I am much obliged to you, Sir Lu- on your all meeting me there. cius ; but here's my friend, fighting Bob, unpro- Sir A. 'Gad! Sir, I like your spirit; and at vided for.
night we single lads will drink a health to the Sir L. Ha! little valour-here, will you make young couples, and a good husband to Mrs. Malayour fortune ?
prop Acres. Odds wrinkles! No.—But give me your Faulk. Our partners are stolen from us, Jack hand, Sir Lucius, forget and forgive; but if ever -I hope, to be congratulated by each other-yours I give you a chance of pickling me again, say Bob for having checked in time the errors of an ill-diAcres is a dunce, that's all.
rected imagination, which might have betrayed an Sir A. Come, 'Mrs. Malaprop, don't be cast innocent heart; and mine for having, by her gen down-you are in your bloom yet.
tleness and candour, reformed the unhappy tem Mrs. M. O Sir Anthony ;-men are all bar- per of one, who by it made wretched whom he barians!
loved most, and tortured the heart he ought to [All retire but Julia and FaulKLAND. have adored. Ju. He seems dejected and unhappy-not Capt. A. True, Faulkland, we have both tasted sullen :--there was some foundation, however, for the bitters, as well as the sweets of love ; with this the tale he told me- woman! how true should difference only, that you always prepared the bitbe your judgment, when your resolution is so ter cup for yourself, while lweak!
Lyd. Was always obliged to me for it, hey! Faulk. Julia !-how can I sue for what I so Mr. Modesty! But come, no more of that; our little deserve ? I dare not presume—yet hope is happiness is now as unalloyed as general. the child of penitence.
Jul. Then let us study to preserve it so: and Jul. Oh! Faulkland, you have not been more while hope pictures to us a flattering scene of faulty in your unkind treatment of me, than I am happiness, let us deny its pencil those colours now in wanting inclination to resent it. As my which are too bright to be lasting. When hearts heart honestly bids me place my weakness to the diffusing happiness would unite their fortunes, account of love, I should be ungenerous not to virtue would crown them with an unfading gar mimit the same plea for yours.
land of modest, hurtless flowers; but ill-judging [Sır ANTHONY comes forward. passion will force the gaudier rose into the wreath, Sir A. What 's going on here ? So you have whose thorn offends most when its leaves are heen quarrelling too, I warrant. Come, Julia, dropped !
THE DEUCE IS IN HIM:
A FAROE ,
IN TWO ACTS.
BY GEORGE COLMAN, Esq.
A PARTIAL hint for this piece was suggested, to the elegant writer, by the episode of Lindor, in Marmontel fales; and the part relative to Mademoiselle Florival, from a story in the British Magazine.
A delicate vein of satire on the absurdities of Platonic love, runs through this laughable and well-written Marce, which originally met with great and deserved success.
HAY-MARKET. .. Mr. Palmer.
..Mr. Baddeley ...Mt. Evatt,
Mrs. Goodail ..Mrs. Taylor. Mrs. Heard.
riage : but he, alas! too much influenced by the
narrow prejudices so common between the two SCENE I.--A Room in EMILY's House.
nations, forbade the officer his house, but not be
fore Enter EMILY with a letter open in her hand—and
ve were, by the most solemn engagements, MADEMOISELLE FLORIVAL in man's clothes.
secretly contracted to each other.
Em. May I ask the officer's name? Em. Be assured, that I will do every thing in Flo. Excuse me, Madam. Till I see or hear my power to serve you ; my brother knew that he from him once more, my prudence, vanity, or call might command my service Be comforted, I be- it what you will
, will scarce suffer me to mention seech you, Madam.
it. Your brother, indeed, is acquainted with Flo. You cannot wonder, Madam, that I should Em. I beg your pardon—I hope, however, you be shocked, extremly shocked, at the cruel necessity have no reason to think yourself neglected or forof appearing before you in so indelicate a disguise. gotten!
Ém. Indeed, you need not : there is something Flo. Oh, no; far from it. He was soon recalled in your manner, which convinces me, that every by orders from England: and on my father's action of your life carries its apology along with pressing me to consent to another match, my pas
t; though I will not venture to inquire into the sion-I blush to own it-transported me so far, particulars of your story till your mind is more at as to depart abruptly from Belleisle. I came over
in an English ship to Portsmouth, where I exFlo. Alas, Madam, it is my interest to make pected according to letters he had contrived to you acquainted with my story. I am the daughter send me, to find the officer. But, judge of my of Monsieur Florival, a French physician, in the disappointment, when I learned that he embarked sland of Belleisle. An English officer, who had but three days before for the siege of the Havannah. been desperately wounded, was, after the capitula Em. The Havannah! You touch me nearly ion, for the sake of due attendance, taken into –pray go on. ny father's house ; and as 1, in the very early part Flo. In a strange kingdom—alone-and a woof my life, had resided in England, he took some man—what could I do? In order to defeat inquideasure in my conversation. In a word, he won ries after me, I disguised myself in this habit, and ny affections, and asked me of my father in mar- | mixed with the officers of the place; but your VOL. I. ...3 A
brother soon discovered my uneasiness, and saw at Belleisle, and dying for an English gentleman through my disguise. I frankly confessed to him at the Havannah. every particular of my story : in consequence of
Bell. The Havannah !-Not for Colonel Tamwhich, he has thus generously recommended me per, 1 hope, sister. to your protection.
Ém. If Colonel Tamper had been at the taking Em. And you may depend on my friendship. of Belleisle too, I should have been frightened out - Your situation affects me strangely.
of my wits about it. Flo. Oh, Madam, it is impossible to tell you Bell
. Suppose I should bring you some nen's half its miseries; especially since your brother of him. has convinced me, that I am so liable to be dis- Em. Of whom? covered.
Bell. Colonel Tamper. Em. You shall throw off that dress as soon as Em. What do you mean? possible, and then I will take you into the house Bell. Only a card. with me and my sister-In the meantime, let me Em. A card !--From whom? What card ? see you every day—every hour. I shall not be Bell. Oh, what a delightful flutter it puts her afraid that your visits will affect my reputation. into!
Flo. You are too good to me. (Weeping. Em. Nay, but tell me.
Em. Nay, this is too much ; it overcomes me. Bel. Well then -while your visitor was here, Pray, be cheerful.
there carne a card from Major Belford; and I took Flo. I humbly take my leave.
the liberty of sending an answer to it. Em. Adieu. I shall expect you to dinner. Em. Let me see it ! Dear Bell, let me see it!
Flo. I shall do myself the honour of waiting Bell. Oh, it was nothing but his compliments, on you.
[Exit. and desiring to have the honour of waiting on you Ém. Poor woman! I thought my uneasiness any time this morning, from Colonel Tamper. almost insupportable; and yet, how much must Em. From Colonel Tamper !- What can this her anxiety exceed mine!
mean ?-I am ready to sink with fear-Why does Enter Bell.
he not come himself ?
Bell. He's not arrived nor come to town yet, Bell. So, sister! I met your fine gentleman. I suppose. Upon my word, the young spark must be a fa- Em. Oh, Bell! I could suppose twenty things vourite. You have had a tête-à-tête of above that terrify me to death. half an hour together.
Beu. I think now, such a message ought to put Em. How d'ye like him.
you quite out
of your pain : he could not cone Bell. Not at all : a soft lady-like gentleman, from Colonel Tamper, if there was no such person with a white hand, a mincing step, and a smooth in being. chin. Where does this pretty master come from? Em. Ay, but suppose any accident should have Em. From my brother.
happened to him! Heaven forbid ! How unforBell. Who is he?
tunate it is to dote upon a man, whose profession Em. A present to you.
exposes him hourly to the risk of his life! Bell. A present to me! what d'ye mean? Bell. Lord, Emily, how can you torment your
Em. Why, did not my brother promise to take self with such horrid examinations ? Besides, care of you before he went abroad?
should the worst come to the worst-it is but a Bell. Well, and what then ?
lover lost ; and that is a loss easily repaired, you Em. What then! Why, he has taken care of know. vou-sent you a pretty fellow for a husband Em. Go, you mad-cap! but you'll pay for all "Could he possibly take better care of you? this one day, I warrant you. When you come
Bell. A husband !-a puppet, a doll, a- to be heartily in for it yourself, Bell, you will know, Em. A soldier, Bell la red coat, consider. that when a pure and disinterested passion fills the
Bell. A fine soldier indeed !- I can't bear to see breast, when once a woman has set her heart upon a red coat cover any thing but a man, sister.- a man, nothing in the world but that very man Give me a soldier that looks as if he could love will ever make her happy. me and protect me; ay, and tame me too, if I Bell. I admire your setting your heart, as you deserved it
. If I was to have this thing for a call it, of all things. Your love, my dear Emily, husband, I would set him at the top of my India is not so romantic. You pitch upon a man of cabinet with the China figures, and hid the maid figure and fortune, handsome, sensible, good-natake care she did not break him.
tured, and well-bred; of rank in life, and credit Em. Well
, well; if this is not the case, I don't in his profession; a man that half the women in know what my brother will say to you. Here's town would pull caps for; and then you talk, like his letter; read it, and send him an answer your- a sly prude, of your pure and disinterested peas self.
sion. Bell. (Reads.] Dear sister,— The bearer of this Em. Why then, I declare, if he had not a friend letter is-alady !So, so ! your servant, Madam! on earth, or a shilling in the world—if he was as -and yours too, sister !-whose case is truly miserable as the utmost malice of ill fortune could compassionate, and whom I most earnestly re- make him, I would prefer Colonel Tamper to the commend to your protection, --Um-um-um- first duke in the kingdom. take care of her-Um-um-um-not too many Bell. Oh, sister, it is a mighty easy thing for questions_Um-um-um—in toron in a feio persons rolling in affluence and a coach-aud six, days.—I'll be whipped, now, if this is not some to talk of living on bread and water, and the mistress of his.
comforts of love in a cottage. Em. No, no, Bell, I know her whole history, Em. The coach-and-six, Bell, would give little It is quite a little novel. She is a Frenchwoman, happiness to those who could not be happy withMademoiselle Florival, run away from her father out it. When once the heart has settled its afleotions, how mean is it to withdraw them for any, life; and these were sacrifices necessary for its paltry considerations, of what nature soever! preservation Bell
. I think the lady doth protest too much. Em. Very true. Ay-ay-so as he has but Em. Ay, but she'll keep her word.
his lite, I am happy. And I ought now to be atEnter SERVANT.
tached to him, not only froni tenderness, but comSero. Major Belford, Madam!
passion. Em. Show him in-[Erit Servant.), Oh, better ihan you may imagine. His face, by the
Belf. After all, Madam, his appearance is much Bell, I am ready to drop with apprehension !
help of a black ribband, is very little disfigured; Enter MAJOR BELFORD.
and he has got a false leg, made so naturally, that, Belf. Ladies, your humble servant-(Salutes except a small hitch in his gait, there is no matethem.) I rejoice to find you so well.
rial alteration in his person and deportmentBel. And we congratulate you, Major, on your Besides which, in point of health and spirits, he safe return from the Havannah—How does your is particularly well. friend Colonel Tamper do?
Em. I am glad of it.—But, alas! he, whose Belf. He is very well, Madam ; but
person was so charming !- And his eyes, that Em. But what, Sir-I am frighted beyond were so brilliant !-So full of sensibility! expresssion—Is he in England ?
Belf. This accident, Madam, on his own acBelf. Yes, Madam.
count gives him no uneasiness : to say the truth, Em. In town ?
he seems rather vain upon it: I could wish there Belf. Yes, Madarn.
fore, when he comes, that you would not seem too Em. Why have not we the pleasure of seeing deeply affected, but rather assume an air of cheerhim then ?
fulness, lest any visible uneasiness in you should Belf. He'll be here immediately, Madam. shock the colonel. Em. Oh, well.
Em. Poor colonel! I know his sensibility. Let Belf. But it was thought proper that I should me endeavour, therefore, to convince him, that he wait on you first, to prepare you for his reception. is as dear to me as ever! Oh, yes, cost me what Em. To prepare me! What does he mean?
it will, I must show him, that the preservation of Belf. Only to prevent your being alarmed at his life is an entire consolation to me. his appearance, Madam. Em, Alarmed ! you terrify me more and more
Enter SERVANT. -What is the matter ?
Serv. Colonel Tamper, Madam. Belf. Nay, nothing-A trifie-the mere chance Em Eh! what !
[Disordered. of war, la fortune de la guerre, as the French Bell. Desire the colonel to walk up-Compose call it; that's all, Madam.
yourself, my dear!--Poor Emily! I am in pain Em. I'm upon the rack_Dear Sir, explain— for her.
(Aside. Belf. The colonel, you know, Madam, is a man of spirit. --Having exposed his person very gal..
Enter Colonel TAMPER-runs up to EMILY. lantly in the several actions before the town of Tam. My dearest Emily how happy am 1 the Havannah, he received many wounds; one to see you once again! I have brought back the of two of which have been attended with rather honest heart and hand which I devoted to you: disagreeable circumstances.
as to the rest of my body, you see I did not care Em. But is the colonel well at present, Sir ? sixpence what became of it. Miss Bell, 1 rejoice Belf. Extremely well, Madam.
to see you so well.—Major, I am yours—but my Em. Are not the consequences of his wounds Emilylikely to endanger his life?
Em. Oh, colonel ! Belf. Not in the least, Madam.
[Bursts into tears ; leans upon Bell Em. I am satisfied-Pray go on, Sir.
Tam. How's this? tears! Belf. Do not you be alarmed, Madam
Bell. You should not have followed the major Em. Keep me no longer in suspense, I beseech so soon, colonel ; she had scarce recovered the first you, Sir!
shock from his intelligence. Bell. What can all this mean?
Tam. My impatience would suffer me to delay Bef. The two principle wounds which the no longer—Why do you weep so, Emily ?-Are colonel received, Madam, were one a little above you sorry to see me again? the knee, and another in his face. In consequence Em. Sorry to see you unfortunate. of the first, he was reduced to the necessity of
(Weeping. saving his life by the loss of a leg; and the latter Tom. Unfortunate! call me rather fortunate; has deprived him of the sight of an eye. I am come back alive ; alive and merry, Emily. Em. Oh, Heavens! (Ready to faint. Em. I am glad you have saved your life. Bell. Poor Emily! How could you be so ab
[Weeping rupt, Sir? The violent agitation of her mind is Tam. I dare say you are. Look on me then; too much for her spirits.
what, not one glance! Wont you deign to look Belf. Excuse me, Madam— I was afraid of mak- on your poor maimed soldier ? (Pausing.)-Is it ing you uneasy; and yet it was necessary you possible, then, that any alteration of my person should be acquainted with these circumstances, can occasion a change in your sentiments ? previous to your seeing the colonel.
Em. Never, colonel, never: it is surely no mark Em. (Recovering.) Lost a leg and an arm did of want of affection to be so much hurt at vour you say, Sir ?
misfortunes. Belf. No, not an arm-an eye, Madam.
Tam. Misfortunes! no misfortunes at allEm. An eye! worse and worsePoor colonel ! none at all to a soldier-nothing but the ordinary Belf. Rather unfortunate, to be sure. But we incidents and common casualties of his life-narks should consider, Madam, that we have saved his of honour—and tokens of valour–I declare ]
wear them about with me as the most honourable Belf. If she does, it is more than you deserve padges of my profession.—I am proud of them, I could wish she would give you up with all my I would not part with this wooden leg for the best heart, if I did not think you would run stark mad Aesh and blood in Christendom.
with vexation. Em. And can you really be so unconcerned at Tam. Why so ? this accident ?
Belf. Because, as I have often told you before, Tam. Really; and you shall be unconcerned this is a most absurd and ridiculous scheme, a too, Emily. You shall find more in me still, than mere trick to impose upon yourself, and most pro in half the battered rakes and fops about town. bably end in your losing the affections of an ami It injures me no more than it does a fine tree, to able lady. lop my branches. My trunk is heart of oak, and Tam. You know, Belford, there is an erres I shall thrive the better for it.
of sensibility in my temperEm. But is there no hope of recovering your
Belf. That will always make you unhappy. eye again? Oh, we must have the best advice Tam. Rather say, it will insure the future hapIs the sight quite lost?
piness of my life. Before I bind myself to abide Tam. Quite-blind as a mill-horse-Blind as by a woman at all events, and in all circumstances, a beetle, Emily-But what does that signify? I'must be assured that she will, at all events, and Love is blind, you know; and if I have lost one in all circumstances, retain her affection for me. eye, why, they say, I shall see the clearer with Belf. 'Sdeath, I have no patience to hear you. the other.
Have not you all the reason in the world to rest Em. I cannot look at him without shuddering assured that Emily entertains a most sincere pas
(Retires and sits down. sion for you? Bell. What action was it you suffered in, colo- Tam. Perhaps so; but then I am not equally nel ?
assured of the basis on which that passion is Tam. Before the Mcco castle, Ma'am, before founded. the Moro-Hot work, hissing hot, by sea and Belf. Her folly, I am afraid. land, I assure you, Ma'am. Ah, the Moro, the Tam. Nay, but I am serious, major. Moro ! But if men go to run their heads against Belf. You are very ridiculous, colonel
. stone-walls, they must expect to have a sconce or Tam. Well, well; it does not signify talking. two broken before they make their way through I must be convinced that she loves me for my own them-Eh, Major ?
sake, for myself alone; and that, were I divested Bell. Major Belford was with you ?
of every desirable gift of fortune and of nature Tam. All the while. The major and I fought and she was to be addressed by fifty others who side by side, cheek by jowl, till I fell, Ma'am! possessed them all in the most eminent degree, We paid the Dons- didn't we, major? But she would continue to prefer me to all the rest of Velasco, poor Velasco! A fine brave Don, must mankind. be owned—I had rather have died like Velasco, Belf. Most precious refinement, truly! This than have lived to be Generalissimo.
is the most high-flown metaphysics in sentiment Bell. (To EMILY.] How are you, sister? I ever heard in my life-picked up in one of your
Tam. Nay, pr’ythee, Emily, be comforted ! expeditions to the coast of France, I suppose more than all this might have happened to me at No plain Englishman ever dreamed of sucbs home. I might have thrown away my life in a whim-Love you for yourself! for your car duel, or broke my neck in a fox-chace: a fit of sake!--not she, truly. the gout, or an apoplexy, might have maimed me Tam. How then? ten times worse for ever; or a palsy, perhaps, Belf. Why, for her own, to be sure and me bave killed one half of me at a single stroke- would any body else. I am your friend, and love You must not take on thus- If you do, I shall you as a friend; and why? because I am glad to be extremely uneasy.
have commerce with a man of talents, honour, and Em. Excuse me, I cannot help it-but be as- honesty. Let me once see you behave like a sured, I esteem you as much as ever, Sir. poltroon or a villain, and you know I would cut
Tam. Esteem! and Sir! This is cold lan- your throat, colonel ! guage-I have not been used to hear you talk in Tam. I don't doubt you, major; but if she that style, Emily.
dont love me for my own sake, for myself, as I Em. I don't know what I say—I am not well said, how can I ever be certain that she will not --let me retire.
transfer that love to another? Tam. When shall we name the happy day? Belf. “For your own sake! for your self, I shall make shift to dance on that occasion-again !"-Why what, in the common name of though as Withrington fought-on my stumps, sense, is this self of yours, that you make such a Emily. Tell me, when shall we be happy? rout about? Your birth, your fortune, your cha
Em. I grow more and more faint-Lead me racter, your talents, and perhaps, sweet colonel, to my chamber, Bell.
that sweet person of yours--all these may have Bell
. She is very ill —don't tease her now, colo- taken her-and habitude, and continual inter nel : but let us try to procure her some repose. course, must increase her partiality for them in
Tam. Ay, a short sleep and a little reflection, you, more than in any other person. But, af and all will be well, I dare say-I will be here ter all, none of these things are yourself. You again soon, and administer consolation, I warrant are but the ground; and these qualities are woven you. Adieu, my dear Emily.
into your frame. Yet it is not the stuff, but the Em. Adieu. -Oh, Bell!
richness of the work, that stamps a value on the [Exit in tears, with BELL. piece. Tam. (Assuming his natural air and manner.) Tam. Why, this is downright sermonizing, Ha, ha, ha !-Well
, Belford, what is your opinion major. Give you pudding sleeves and a grizzk DOW? Will she stand the test or no ?
wig, you might be chaplain to the regiment. Yet