Sir Anth. What's that to you, sir?-Come, give me your promise to love and to marry her directly. Abs. Sure, sir, this is not very reasonable, to summon my affections for a lady I know nothing of! Sir Anth. I am sure, sir, 'tis more unreasonable in you to object to a lady you know nothing of. Abs. Then, sir, I must tell you plainly, once for all, that on this point I cannot obey you. Sir Anth. Hark'ee, Jack;-I have heard you for some time with patience-I have been cool-quite cool; but take care-you know I am compliance itself when I am not thwarted ;-no one more easily led, when I have my own way;-but don't put me in a frenzy. Abs. Sir, I must repeat it-in this I cannot obey you. Sir Anth. Now, hang me! if ever I call you Jack again while I live! Abs. Nay, sir, but hear me. Sir Anth. Sir, I won't hear a word-not a word! not one word!-so give me your promise by a nod-and I'll tell you what, Jack,-I mean, you dog-if you don't, byAbs. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness! to Sir Anth. 'Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew-she shall be all this, sirrah!-yet I will make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty. Abs. This is reason and moderation indeed! Sir Anth. None of your sneering, puppy! No grinning, jackanapes! Abs. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humour for mirth in my life. Sir Anth. "Tis false, sir, I know you are laughing in sleeve; I know you'll grin when I am gone, sirrah! Abs. Sir, I hope I know my duty better. your Sir Anth. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please !-It won't do with me, I promise you. Abs. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life. Sir Anth. "Tis a confounded lie!—I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog! but it won't do. Abs. Nay, sir, upon my word— Sir Anth. So you will fly out! can't you be cool like me? What good can passion do ? —Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate! — There, you sneer again! don't provoke me!—but you rely upon the mildness of my temper-you do, you dog !—you play upon the meekness of my disposition !—Yet take care -the patience of a saint may be overcome at last!—But mark! I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do everything on earth that I choose, why-I may in time forgive you. If not, zounds! don't enter the same hemisphere with me! don't dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission; I'll lodge a five-andthreepence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest.-I'll disown you! I'll disinherit you! and hang me! if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit. Abs. Mild, gentle, considerate father—I kiss your hands! I dare not trust him with the truth! Re-enter FAG. Fag. Assuredly, sir, your father is wrath to a degree ; he comes down stairs eight or ten steps at a time—muttering, growling, and thumping the banisters all the way: I and the cook's dog stand bowing at the door-rap! he gives me a stroke on the head with his cane, bids me carry that to my master; then kicking the poor turnspit into the area, curses us all for a puppy triumvirate ! Abs. Cease your impertinence, sir, at present.-Did you come in for nothing more?-Stand out of the way! [Pushes him aside, and exit. Fag. So! Sir Anthony trims my master: he is afraid to reply to his father-then vents his spleen on poor Fag !— When one is vexed by one person, to revenge one's self on another, who happens to come in the way, is the vilest injustice! Ah! it shows the worst temper―the basest— Enter Boy. Boy. Mr. Fag! Mr. Fag! Your master calls you. Fag. Well, you little dirty puppy, you need not bawl so! -The meanest disposition! the— Boy. Quick, quick, Mr. Fag! Fag. Quick! quick! you impudent jackanapes! Am I to be commanded by you, too? you little impertinent, insolent, kitchen-bred- [Exit, kicking and beating him. SHERIDAN. THE RIVALS. Second Selection. ACRES and SIR LUCIUS O'TRIGGER. Sir Luc. Mr. Acres, I am delighted to embrace you. Sir Luc. Pray, my friend, what has brought you so suddenly to Bath? Acres. Faith! I have followed Cupid's Jack-a-lantern, and find myself in a quagmire at last.-In short, I have been very ill-used, Sir Lucius. I don't choose to mention names, but look on me as on a very ill-used gentleman. Sir Luc. Pray what is the case? I ask no names. Acres. Mark me, Sir Lucius. I fall as deep as need be in love with a young lady-her friends take my part-I follow her to Bath-send word of my arrival ;—and receive answer, that the lady is to be otherwise disposed of. This, Sir Lucius, I call being ill-used. Sir Luc. Very ill, upon my conscience. Pray, can you divine the cause of it? Acres. Why, there's the matter; she has another lover, one Beverley, who, I am told, is now in Bath. Odds slanders and lies! he must be at the bottom of it. Sir Luc. A rival in the case, is there?-and you think he has supplanted you unfairly? Acres. Unfairly?—to be sure he has. He never could have done it fairly. Sir Luc. Then sure you know what is to be done' me. Sir Luc. We wear no swords here, but you understand Acres. What fight him! Sir Luc, Ay, to be sure: what can I mean else? Sir Luc. Now, I think he has given you the greatest provocation in the world. Can a man commit a more heinous offence against another, than to fall in love with the same woman? Oh, by my sword! it is a most unpardonable breach of friendship. Acres. Breach of friendship! ay, ay; but I have no acquaintance with this man. I never saw him in my life. Sir Luc. That's no argument at all-he has the less right to take such a liberty. Acres. Gad, that's true-I grow full of anger, Sir Lucius ! I fire apace! Odds hilts and blades! I find a man may have a deal of valour in him, and not know it! But couldn't I contrive to have a little right on my side? Sir Luc. What signifies right, when your honour is concerned? Do you think Achilles, or my little Alexander the Great, ever inquired where the right lay ? No, they drew their broad swords, and left the lazy sons of peace to settle the justice of it. Acres. Your words are a grenadier's march to my heart! I believe courage must be catching! I certainly do feel a kind of valor rising as it were-a kind of courage, as I may say, Odds, flints, pans, and triggers! I'll challenge him directly. Sir Luc. Come, come, there must be no passion at all in the case these things should always be done civilly. Acres. I must be in a passion, Sir Lucius-I must be in a rage. Dear Sir Lucius, let me be in a rage, if you love me. Come, here's pen and paper. (Sits down to write). I would the ink were red!-Indite, I say indite!-How shall I begin? Odds bullets and blades! I'll write a good bold hand, however. Sir Luc. Pray compose yourself. Acres. Come, now, shall I begin with an oath? Do, Sir Lucius, let me begin with an oath ? Sir Luc. Pho! Pho! do the thing decently, and like a Christian. Begin now-Sir Acres. That's too civil by half. Sir Luc. To prevent the confusion that might arise— Sir Luc. From our both addressing the same lady- Acres. Well then, honour of your company Sir Luc. To settle our pretensions— Acres. Well. Sir Luc. Let me see, ay, King's-Mead-Fields will doin King's-Mead-Fields. Acres. So, that's done. Well, I'll fold it up presently; my own crest-a hand and dagger shall be the seal. Sir Luc. You see now this little explanation will put a stop at once to all confusion or misunderstanding that might arise between you. Acres. Ay, we fight to prevent any misunderstanding. Sir Luc. Now, I'll leave you to fix your own time. Take my advice, and 'll decide this evening if you can ; then let the worst come of it, 'twill be off your mind to morrow. you Acres. Very true. THE RIVALS. SHERIDAN. Third Selection. ACRES and DAVID. David. Then, by the mass, sir! I would do no such thing-ne'er a Sir Lucius O'Trigger in the kingdom should make me fight when I wa' n't so minded. Oons! what will the old lady say when she hears o't. Acres. Ah, David! if you had heard Sir Lucius! Odds sparks and flames! he would have roused your valour. David. Not he, indeed. I hate such bloodthirsty cormorants. Look 'ee master, if you'd wanted a bout at boxing, quarterstaff, or short staff, I should never be the man to bid you cry off: but for your abominable sharps and snaps, I never knew any good come of 'em. Acres. But my honour, David, my honour! I must be very careful of my honour. |