Davy. To bed, Sir?—I want to go to bed myself, Sir. Sir J. Why, how now-you are drunk too, sirrah. Davy. I am a little, your honour, because I have been drinking. Sir J. That is not all-but you have been in bad company, sirrah? Davy. Indeed your honour's mistaken, I never kept such good company in all my life. Sir J. The fellow does not understand mewhere have you been, you drunkard? Davy. Drinking, to be sure, if I am a drunkard; and if you had been drinking too, as I have been, you would not be in such a passion with a body-it makes one so good natured. Sir J. There is another addition to my misfortunes! I shall have this fellow carry into the country as many vices as will corrupt the whole parish. Davy. I'll take what I can, to be sure, your worship. Sir J. Get away, you beast you, and sleep off the debauchery you have contracted this fortnight, or I shall leave you behind, as a proper person to make one of his lordship's family. Davy. So much the better-give me more wages, less work, and the key of the ale-cellar, and I am your servant; if not, provide yourself with another. [Struts. Sir J. Here's a reprobate !-this is the completion of my misery! but harkye, villain,-go to bed-and sleep off your iniquity, and then pack up the things, or I'll pack you off to Newgate, and transport you for life, you rascal you. (Exit. Davy. That for you, old codger. [Snaps his fingers] I know the law better than to be frightened with moonshine; I wish that I was to live here all my days, this is the life indeed! a servant lives up to his eyes in clover; they have wages, and board wages, and nothing to do, but to grow fat and saucy-they are as happy as their master, they play for ever at cards, swear like emperors, drink like fishes, and go a wenching with as much ease and tranquillity, as if they were going to a sermon. Oh! 'tis a fine life! [Exit, reeling. SCENE II-A Chamber in LORD MINIKIN'S House. Enter LORD MINIKIN and MISS TITTUP in Masquerade Dresses, lighted by JESSAMY. Lord M. Set down the candles, Jessamy; and should your lady come home, let me know-be sure you are not out of the way. Jes. I have lived too long with your lordship to need the caution-who the devil have we got now? but that's my lord's business, and not mine. [Exit. Miss T. [Pulling off her mask.] Upon my word, my lord, this coming home so soon from the masquerade is very imprudent, and will certainly be observed-I am most inconceivably frightened, I can assure you-my uncle Trotley has a light in his room; the accident this morning will certainly keep him upon the watch-pray, my lord, let us defer our meetings till he goes into the country-I find that my English heart, though it has ventured so far, grows fearful, and awkward to practise the freedoms of warmer climes-[LORD M. takes her by the hand.] If you will not desist, my lord-we are separated for ever-the sight of the precipice turns my head; I have been giddy with it too long, and must turn from it while I can-pray, be quiet, my lord, I will meet you to-morrow. Lord M. To-morrow! 'tis an age in my situation let the weak, bashful, coyish whiner be intimidated with these faint alarms, but let the bold experienced lover kindle at the danger, and like the eagle in the midst of storms thus pounce upon his prey. [Takes hold of her. Miss T. Dear Mr. Eagle, be merciful; pray let the poor pigeon fly for this once. Lord M. If I do, my dove, may I be cursed to have my wife as fond of me, as I am now of thee. [Offers to kiss her. Jes. [Without, knocking at the door.] My lord, my lord!Miss T. Ha! Lord M. Who's there? [Screams. Lord M. Damn the fellow! What's the matter? Jes. Nay, not much, my lord-only my lady's come home. Miss T. Then I'm undone-what shall I do? I'll run into my own room. Lord M. Then she may meet you— Jes. There's a dark deep closet, my lord---Miss may hide herself there. Miss T. For Heaven's sake, put me into it, and when her ladyship's safe, let me know, mý lord.-What an escape have I had! Lord M. The moment her evil spirit is laid, I'll let my angel out-[Puts her into the closet.] lock the door on the inside-come softly to my. room, Jessamy. Jes. If a board creaks, your lordship shall never give me a laced waistcoat again. [Exeunt on tiptoes. Enter GYMP, lighting in LADY MINIKIN and COLONEL TIVY, in Masquerade Dresses. Gymp. Pray, my lady, go no farther with the colonel, I know you mean nothing but innocence, but I'm sure there will be bloodshed, for my lord is certainly in the house-I'll take my affidavy that I heard Col. T. It can't be, I tell you; we left him this moment at the masquerade-I spoke to him before I came out. Lady M. He's too busy, and too well employed, to think of home-but don't tremble so, Gymp. There is no harm, I assure you the colonel is to marry my niece, and it is proper to settle some matters relating to it-they are left to us. Gymp. Yes, yes, madam, to be sure it is proper that you talk together-I know you mean nothing but innocence-but indeed there will be bloodshed. Col. T. The girl's a fool. I have no sword by my side. Gymp. But my lord has, and you may kill one another with that-I know you mean nothing but innocence, but I certainly heard him go up the back stairs into his room, talking with Jessamy. Lady M. "Tis impossible but the girl must have fancied this-Can't you ask Whisp, or Mignon, if their master is come in? Gymp. Lord, my lady, they are always drunk before this, and asleep in the kitchen 422 Lady M. This frightened fool has made me as ridiculous as herself! hark!-Colonel, I'll swear there is something upon the stairs-now I am in the field I find I am a coward. Gymp. There will certainly be bloodshed. Col. T. Zounds! I've got between two fires! Col. T. [Runs to the closet.] There's no retreat-the door is locked! Lady M. Behind the chimney-board, Gymp. Col. T. I shall certainly be taken prisoner, [Gets behind the board.] you'll let me know when the enemy 's decamped. Lady M. Leave that to me-do you, Gymp, go down the back stairs, and leave me to face my lord, I think I can match him at hypocrisy. [Sits down. Enter LORD MINIKIN. Lord M. What, is your ladyship so soon returned from Lady Filligree's? Lady M. I am sure, my lord, I ought to be more surprised at your being here so soon, when I saw you so well entertained in a tete-a-tete with a lady in crimson-such sights, my lord, will always drive me from my most favourite amuse ments. Lord M. You find at least, that the lady, whoever she was, could not engage me to stay, when I found your ladyship had left the ball. Lady M. Your lordship's sneering upon my unhappy temper may be a proof of your wit, but it is none of your humanity; and this behaviour is as great an insult upon me, as even your falsehood itself. [Pretends to weep. Lord M. Nay, my dear Lady Minikin, if you are resolved to play tragedy, I shall roar away too, and pull out my cambric handkerchief. so little pleasure-I shall retire to my own apartment. Lord M. Well, if your ladyship will be cruel, I must still, like the miser, starve and sigh, though possessed of the greatest treasure-[Bows.] I wish your ladyship a good night-He takes one candle, and LADY MINIKIN the other.] May 1 presume— Salutes her. Lady M. Your lordship is too obliging-nasty [Aside. Aside. [Wipe their lips and exeunt different ways. Miss T. [Peeping out of the closet.] All's silent now, and quite dark; what has been doing here I cannot guess-I long to be relieved; I wish my lord was come-but I hear a noise! [She shuts the door. Col. T. [Peeping over the chimney-board.] I wonder my lady does not come-I would not have Miss Tittup know of this 'twould be ten thousand pounds out of my way, and I cannot afford to give so much for a little gallantry. Miss T. [Comes forward.] What would my Colonel say, to find his bride, that is to be, in this critical situation? Enter LORD MINIKIN at one door, in the dark. [Comes forward. Enter LADY MINIKIN, at the other door. Lady M. My poor colonel will be as miserable, as if we were besieged in garrison; I must reLord M. Hist! hist! lease him. [Going towards the chimney. [They all grope, till LORD MINIKIN has got Sir J. [Speaks without.] Lights this way, I say; I am sure there are thieves; get a blunderbuss. Jes. Indeed you dream it, there is nobody but [All stand and stare. Enter SIR JOHN in his night-cap, his hanger drawn, with JESSAMY. Lady M. I think, my lord, we had better retire to our apartments; my weakness and your brutality will only expose us to our servants-Where is Tittup, pray? Lord M. I left her with the colonel-a mas-the family. querade to young folks, upon the point of matrimony, is as delightful as it is disgusting to those who are happily married, and are wise enough to love home, and the company of their wives. [Takes hold of her hand. Lady M. False man! I had as lieve a toad [Aside. touched me. Lord M. She gives me the frisonne-I must propose to stay, or I shall never get rid of her. [Aside.]-I am aguish to-night,-he-he-do my dear, let us make a little fire here, and have a family tete-a-tete, by way of novelty. [Rings a bell. Enter JESSAMY. Let 'em take away that chimney-board, and light a fire here immediately. Sir J. Give me the candle, I'll ferret 'em out, I warrant; bring a blunderbuss, I say: they have been skipping about that gallery in the dark this half hour; there must be mischief-I have watched them into this room-ho, ho, are you there ?—If you stir, you are dead men-[They retire.]—and [Seeing the ladies.] women too!-egad-ha! what 's this? the same party again! and two couple they are of as choice mortals as ever were hatched in this righteous town-you'll excuse me, cousins! [They all look confounded. Lord M. In the name of wonder, how comes all this about. I Sir J. Well, but harkye, my dear cousins, have you not got wrong partners?-here has been some mistake in the dark: I am mighty glad that have brought you a candle to set all to rights again-you'll excuse me, gentlemen and ladies. Enter GYMP, with a candle. Gymp. What in the name of mercy is the Lady M. What shall I do?-[Aside, and greatly alarmed.]-Here, Jessamy, there is no occasion-I am going to my own chamber, and my lord wont stay here by himself. [Erit JESSAMY. Lord M. How cruel it is, Lady Minikin, to deprive me of the pleasure of a domestic duetto[Aside. A good escape, faith! Lady M. I have too much regard for Lord Mi-matter? nikin to agree to any thing that would afford him Sir J. Why the old matter, and the old game, Mrs. Gymp; and I'll match my cousins here at it against all the world, and I say done first. Lord M. What is the meaning, Sir John, of all this tumult and consternation? may not Lady Minikin and I, and the colonel and your niece, be seen in my house together without your raising the family, and making this uproar and confution ? Sir J. Come, come, good folks, I see you are all confounded, I'll settle this matter in a moment-as for you, colonel-though you have not deserved plain dealing from me, I will now be serious-you imagine this young lady has an independent fortune, besides expectations from me 'tis a mistake, she has no expectations from me, if she marry you; and if I don't consent to her marriage, she will have no fortune at all. Col. T. Plain dealing is a jewel; and to show you, Sir John, that I can pay you in kind, I am most sincerely obliged to you for your intelligence; and I am, ladies your most obedient, humble servant-I shall see you, my lord, at the club to-morrow? [Exit. Lord M. Sans doute, mon cher colonel-I'll meet you there, without fail. Sir J. My lord, you'll have something else to do. Lord M. Indeed! what is that, good Sir John? Sir J. You must meet your lawyers and creditors to-morrow, and be told what you have always turned a deaf ear to that the dissipation of your fortune and morals must be followed by years of parsimony and repentance as you are fond of going abroad, you may indulge that inclination without having it in your power to indulge any other. satirical. Lord M. The bumpkin is no fool, and is damned [Aside. Sir J. This kind of quarantine for pestilential minds will bring you to your senses, and make you renounce foreign vices and follies, and return with joy to your country and property againread that, my lord, and know your fate. [Gives a paper. Lord M. What an abomination is this! that a man of fashion, and a nobleman, shall be obliged to submit to the laws of his country. Sir J. Thank Heaven, my lord, we are in that country!-You are silent, ladies-if repentance has subdued your tongues, I shall have hopes of you-a little country air might perhaps do wellas you are distressed, I am at your service-what say you, my lady? Lady M. However appearances have condemned me, give me leave to disavow the substance of those appearances. My mind has been tainted, but not profligate-your kindness and example may restore me to my former natural English constitution. Sir J. Will you resign your lady to me, my lord, for a time? Lord M. For ever, dear Sir John, without a murmur. Sir J. Well, Miss, and what say you? [Courtesying. Sir J. Guilty! the devil you are? of what? Miss T. Of consenting to marry one whom my heart does not approve; and coquetting with another, which friendship, duty, honour, morals, and every thing but fashion, ought to have forbidden. Sir J. Thus then, with the wife of one under this arm, and the mistress of another under this, I sally forth a knight-errant, to rescue distressed damsels from those monsters, foreign vices, and Bon Ton, as they call it; and I trust that every English hand and heart here will assist me in so desperate an undertaking— You'll excuse me, Sii a ! THE ORPHAN: OR, THE UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY THOMAS OTWAY. REMARKS. To the great merit of Miss O'Neil, in Monimia, we are indebted for the revival of his tragedy, which was originally played at the Duke's Theatre, in 1680; and long kept possession of the stage. The language of this play is poetical and tender, and the incidents affecting; but, amidst many beauties, there is great inconsistency,* Dr. Johnson observes,-" This is one of the few pieces that has pleased for almost a century, through all the vicissitudes of dramatic fashion. Of this play, nothing new can easily be said. It is a domestic tragedy, drawn from middle life;-its whole power is upon the affections; for it is not written with much comprehension of thought, or elegance of expression. But, if the heart is interested, many other beauties may he wanting, yet not be missed." * Many readers will, probably, exclaim with the critic, when he first saw it,-" Oh! what an infinite deal of mischief would a farthing rush-light have prevented Rush on together; thou shouldst be my guard, Pol. No, let me purchase in my youth renown, Not like a coarse and useless dunghill weed, What can this mean? Pol. Nay, I'll conjure you too, By all the strictest bonds of faithful friendship, Cas. As calmly as the wounded patient bears The fair Monimia:-is your heart at peace? Pol. Suppose you should not, brother? Pol. That would sound too roughly Twixt friends and brothers, as we two are. Cas. Is love a fault? Pol. In one of us it may be What, if I love her? Cas. Then I must inform you I lov'd her first, and cannot quit the claim; But will preserve the birthright of my passion. Pol. You will? Cas. Yes. Pol. And you would kill me, If I'm your rival? Cas. No; sure we're such friends, So much one man, that our affections too Pol. Both of us cannot. Whose chance it prove; but let's not quarrel for't. No-were she all desire could wish, as fair She should not cheat me of my freedom.-Marry! And take a wife to mortify withal. Pol. It is an elder brother's duty, so To propagate his family and name. You would not have yours die, and buried with you? Cas. Mere vanity, and silly dotage, all:No, let me live at large, and when I die Pol. Who shall possess th' estate you leave? Cas. My friend, If he survive me; if not, my king, Who may bestow't again on some brave man, Cas. By yon heaven, I love Pol. And, by that heaven, eternally I swear Cas. No matter whose. Mon. Pass'd not Castalio and Polydore this way? Page. Madam, just now. Mon. Sure, some ill fate 's upon me Distrust and heaviness sit round my heart, And apprehension shocks my tim'rous soul Why was I not laid in my peaceful grave With my poor parents, and at rest as they are. Instead of that, I'm wandering into cares. |