Christ. Curse me, then! curse me! join with Heaven, and earth, And hell, to curse! Christina. Patience and peace Possess thy mind! Not all thy pride of empire Christ. Oh! thou all that's left me! My circling troops, the fell Gustavus rush'd; suspended yet; [Exeunt. Enter GUSTAVUS, ANDERSON, ARNOLDUS, SIVARD, &c. in triumph. GUSTAVUS advances, and the rest range themselves on each side of the Stage. Gust. That we have conquer'd, first we bend to Heaven! And. And next to thee! All. To thee, to thee, Gustavus! Gust. My Arvida! Aro. My king! O hail! Thus let me pay my If such a wretch, the captive of thy arms, Gust. Ha! that posture! Oh, rise-surpris'd, my eye perceiv'd it not I fought for freedom, not for crowns, thou fair one, Arv. I read thy soul, I see the generous conflict, Gust. No, matchless men! my brothers of the I sprung to execute thy late commands; war! Be it my greatest glory to have mix'd To shield this lovely object of thy cares, My arms with yours, and to have fought for once For I've no bliss but thine, have lost the form Like to a Dalecarlian; like to you, And patriots be no more Arn. Behold, my lord, The Danish prisoners, and the traitor Peterson, Attend their fate. Gust. Send home the Danes with honour, And let them better learn, from our example, To treat whom next they conquer with humanity. Of every wish that 's foreign to thy happiness. Gust. Alas! your cheek is pale-you bleed, my brother! Arv. I do indeed-to death. Rash, headstrong man!-Oh, was this well, Ar vida? Arv. Pardon, Gustavus! mine's the common lot, The fate of thousands fallen this day in battle. I had resolv'd on life, to see you bless'd; To see my king and his Christina happy. Turn, thou belov'd, thou honour'd next to Heaven, Abandon'd now by every supple wreten, That fed his years with flattery. I am all That's left to calm, to sooth, his troubled soul To penitence, to virtue. [Bri [GUSTAVUS looks after CHRISTINA, then turna and looks on ARVIDA-ANDERSON, A NOLDUS, &c. advance. Gust. Come, come, my brothers all! Yes, 1 will strive To be the sum of every title to ye, And you shall be my sire, my friend reviv'd [Exeunt SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER: A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY DR. GOLDSMITH. REMARKS. It has been observed, that no man took less pains with his compositions than Goldsmith, and yet produced so powerful an effect: a happy originality distinguishes all his writings. Nature and Genius preside over the comedy before us, which restored to the stage, wit, gaiety, incident, and character, in the place of that over-dose of senti mentality and affectation which so long prevailed. "The language throughout is easy and characteristical; the manners of the times are slightly, but faithfully, represented; the satire is not ostentatiously displayed, but involved in the business of the play; and the suspense of the audience is artfully kept up to the last."-Davies. London cannot keep its own fools at home. In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly SCENE I-A Chamber in an old-fashioned among us, but now they travel faster than a stage House. coach. Its fopperies come down, not only as inside passengers, but in the very basket. Mrs. H. Ay, your times were fine times indeed, you have been telling us of them for many a long year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion, that looks for all the world like an inn, but that we never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the lame dancing-master; and all our entertainment your old stories of Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough. I hate such old. fashioned trumpery. 393 Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's old; old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine; and I believe, Dorothy, [Taking her hand.] you'll own I have been pretty fond of an old wife. Mrs. H. Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're for ever at your Dorothys and your old wives. You may❘ be a Darby, but I'll be no Joan, I promise you. I'm not so old as you'd make me by more than one good year. Add twenty to twenty, and make money of that. Hard Let me see; twenty added to twenty makes just fifty and seven. Mrs. H. It's false, Mr. Hardcastle: I was but twenty when I was brought to bed of Tony, that I had by Mr. Lumpkin, my first husband; and he's not come to years of discretion yet. Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, you have taught him finely. Mrs. H. No matter; Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his barning. I don't think a boy wants much learing to spend fifteen hundred a year. Hard. Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief. Mrs. H. Humour, my dear; nothing but humour. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a little humour. Hard. I'd sooner allow him a horsepond. If burning the footman's shoes, frighting the maids, worrying the kittens, be humour, he has it. It was but yesterday he fastened my wig to the back of my chair, and when I went to make a bow, I popp'd my bald head into Mrs. Frizzle's face. | doctor, little Aminidab that grinds the music-box, and Tom Twist that spins the pewter-platter. Mrs. H. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at least. Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind: but I can't alide to disappoint myself. Mrs. H. [Detaining him.] You shaʼn't go. Mrs. H. I say, you sha'n't. Hard. Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil each other. But is not the whole age in a combination to drive sense and discretion out of doors? There's my pretty darling Kate; the fashions of the times have almost infected her too. By living a year or two in town, she is as fond of gauze and French frippery, as the best of them. Enter Miss HARDCASTLE. Hard. Blessings on my pretty innocence !-Dressed out as usual, my Kate. Goodness! what a quantity of superfluous silk hast thou got about thee, girl! I could never teach the fools of this age, that the indigent world could be clothed out of the trimmings of the vain. Miss H. You know our agreement, Sir. You allow me the morning to receive and pay visits, and to dress in my own manner; and in the evening, I put on my housewife's dress to please you. Hard. Well, remember I insist on the terms of our agreement: and by the by, I believe I shall have occasion to try your obedience this very even Miss H. I protest, Sir, I don't comprehend your meaning. Mrs. H. And am I to blame? The poor boying. was always too sickly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes to be a little stronger, who knows what a year or two's Latin may do for him? Hard. Latin for him! a cat and a fiddle. No, no, the alehouse and the stable are the only schools he'll ever go to. Mrs. H. Well, we must not snub the poor boy now; for I believe we sha'n't have him long among us. Any body that looks in his face may see he's consumptive. Hard. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms. Mrs. H. He coughs sometimes. way. Mrs. H. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. Hard. And truly, so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking-trumpet-[TONY halloo ing behind the scenes.]-O there he goes-A very consumptive figure, truly. Enter TONY, crossing the stage. Mrs. H. Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't you give papa and I a little of your company, lovee? Tony. I'm in haste, mother, I can't stay. Mrs. H. You sha'n't venture out this raw evening, my dear; you look most shockingly. Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three l'igeons expect me down every moment. There's some fun going forward. Hard. Ay; the alehouse, the old place: I thought so. Mrs. H. A low, paltry set of fellows. Hard. Then to be plain with you, Kate, I expect the young gentleman I have chosen to be your husband from town this very day. I have his father's letter, in which he informs me his son is set out, and that he intends to follow himself shortly after. Miss H. Indeed! I wish I had known something of this before. Bless me, how shall i behave? It's a thousand to one I sha'n't like him; our meeting will be so formal, and so like a thing of business, that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem. Hard. Depend upon it, child, I'll never control your choice; but Mr. Marlow, whom I have pitched upon, is the son of my old friend, Sir Charles Marlow, of whom you have heard me talk so often. The young gentleman has been bred a scholar, and is designed for an employ ment in the service of his country. I am told he's a man of excellent understanding. Miss H. Is he? Hard. Very generous. Miss H. I believe I shall like him. Miss H. I'm sure I shall like him. Miss H. My dear papa, say no more; [Kissing Hard. And, to crown all, Kate, he 's one of the most bashful and reserved young fellows in the world. Miss H. Eh! you have frozen me to death again. That word reserved has undone all the rest of his accomplishments. A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband 1 Hard. On the contrary, modesty seldom resides in a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues. It was the very feature in his character that first struck me. Miss H. He must have more striking features to catch me, I promise you. However, if he be so young, so handsome, and so every thing, as you mention, I believe he'll do still. I think I'll have him. Hard. Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. It's 's more than an even wager he may not have you. Miss H. My dear papa, why will you mortify one so?-Well, if he refuses, instead of breaking my heart at his indifference, I'll only break my glass for its flattery; set my cap to some newer fashion, and look out for some less difficult admirer. ter. Hard. Bravely resolved! In the mean time I'll go prepare the servants for his reception; as we seldom see company, they want as much training as a company of recruits the first day's mus[Exit. Miss H. Lud, this news of papa's puts me all in a flutter. Young, handsome; these he puts last; but I put them foremost. Sensible, goodnatured; I like al that. But then reserved and sheepish; that's much against him. Yet can't he be cured of his timidity, by being taught to be proud of his wife? Yes, and can't I-But I vow I'm disposing of the husband, before I have secured the lover. Enter Miss NEVILLE. Miss H. I'm glad you're come, Neville, my dear. Tell me, Constance, how do I look this evening? Is there any thing whimsical about me? Is it one of my well looking days, child? am I in face to-day? Miss N. Perfectly, my dear. Yet now I look again-bless me! surely no accident has happened among the canary birds or the gold fishes. Has your brother or the cat been meddling? Or has the last novel been too moving? Miss H. No; nothing of all this. I have been threatened-I can scarce get it out-I have been threatened with a lover. Miss N. And his name- Miss N. Indeed! Miss H. The son of Sir Charles Marlow. Miss N. As I live, the most intimate friend of Mr. Hastings, my admirer. They are never asunder. I believe you must have seen him when we lived in town. Miss H. Never. Miss N. He's a very singular character, I assure you. Among women of reputation and virtue, he is the modestest man alive; but his acquaintance give him a very different character among creatures of another stamp: y u understand me. Miss H. An odd character indeed. I shall never be able to manage him. What shall I do? Pshaw, think no more of him; but trust to occurrences for success. But how goes on your own affair, my dear? has my mother been courting you for my brother Tony, as usual? Miss N. I have just come from one of our agreeable tete-a-tetes. She has been saying a hundred tender things, and setting off her pretty monster as the very pink of perfection. Miss H. And her partiality is such, that she actually thinks him so. A fortune like yours is no small temptation. Besides, as she has the sole management of it, I'm not surprised to see her unwilling to let it go out of the family. Miss N. A fortune like mine, which chiefly consists in jewels, is no such mighty temptation. But at any rate, if my dear Hastings be but constant, I make no doubt to be too hard for her at last. However, I let her suppose that I am in love with her son, and she never once dreams that my affections are fixed upon another. Miss H. My good brother holds out stoutly. I could almost love him for hating you so. Miss N. It is a good natured creature at bottom, and I'm sure would wish to see me married to any body but himself. But my aunt's bell rings for our afternoon's walk round the improvements. Allon's, courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical." Miss H. Would it were bed time, and all were well. SCENE II-An Alehouse Room. Several shabby fellows, with punch and tobacco. The squire is going to knock himself down for a 1 Fel. Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. song. Omnes. Ay, a song, a song. Tony. Then I'll sing you, gentlemen, a song I made upon this alehouse, the Three Pigeons. Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain, With grammar, and nonsense, and learning; Good liquor, I stoutly maintain, Gives genius a better discerning. Let them brag of their heathenish gods, Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians, Their quis, and their quas, and their quods, They're all but a parcel of pigeons. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. They always preach best with a skinful. Then come, put the jorum about, And let us be merry and clever ; Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons, But of all the birds in the air, Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons. Omnes. Bravo, bravo. 1 Fel. The squire has got spunk in him. 2 Fel. I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never gives us nothing that's low. 3 Fel. O, damn any thing that's low; I can't bear it. 4 Fel. The genteel thing is the genteel thing at any time, if so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly. 3 Fel. I like the maxum of it, master Muggins. What though I am obligated to dance a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all that. May this |