Enter LIONEL. Jenk. Here is Mr. Lionel. Sir J. Come in.-When I tell you that I am instructed in all your proceedings, and that I have been ear-witness to your conversation in this place, you will, perhaps, imagine what my thoughts are of you, and the measures which justice prescribes me to follow. Lio. Sir, I have nothing to say in my own defence; I stand before you self-convicted, self-condemned, and shall submit, without murmuring, to the sentence of my judge. Sir J. As for you, Clarissa, since your earliest infancy, you have known no parent but me; I have been to you, at once, both father and mother; and that I might the better fulfil those united duties, though left a widower in the prime of my days, I would never enter into a second marriage.-I loved you for your likeness to your dear mother; but that mother never deceived me, and there the likeness fails; you have repaid my affection with dissimulation-Clarissa you should have trusted me. As for you, Mr. Lionel, what terms can I find strong enough to paint the excess of my friendship!-I loved, I esteemed, I honoured your father; he was a brave, a generous, and a sincere man; I thought you inherited his good qualities. You were left an orphan, I adopted you; put you upon the footing of my own son; educated you like a gentleman; and designed you for a profession, to which, I thought, your virtues would have been an ornament. What return you have made me, you seem to be acquainted with yourself; and, therefore, I shall not repeat it; yet, remember, as an aggravation of your guilt, that the last mark of my bounty was conferred upon you in the very instant, when you were undermining my designs. Now, sir, I have but one thing more to say to you: take my daughter, was she worth a million, she is at your service. Lio. To me sir?-your daughter? do you give her to me? Without fortune, without friend-withontSir J. You have them all in your heart; him whom virtue raises, fortune cannot abase. Cla. O, sir, let me on my knees kiss that dear hand, acknowledge my error, and entreat forgiveness and blessing. Sir J. You have not erred, my dear daughter; you have distinguished. It is I should ask pardon, for this little trial of you; for I am happier in the son-in-law you have given me, than if you had married a prince. Lio. My patron-my friend-my father; I would fain say something; but, as your goodness exceeds all bounds Sir J. I think I hear a coach drive into the court: it is Colonel Oldboy's family; I will go and receive them. Don't make yourself uneasy at this, we must endeavour to pacify them as well as we can. My dear Lionel, if I have made you happy, you have made me so; heaven bless you, my children, and make you deserving of one another. [Exeunt Sir John and Jenkins. Enter CLARISSA, LIONEL, and JENNY. Jen. O dear, madam, upon my knees, I humbly beg your forgiveness. Dear Mr. Lionel, forgive me; I did not design to discover it, indeedand you won't turn me off, madam, will you? I'll serve you for nothing. Cla. Get up, my good Jenny; I freely forgive you if there is anything to be forgiven: I know you love me; and, I am sure here is one who will join with me in rewarding your services. Jen. Well, if I did not know, as sure as could be, that some good would happen, by my left eye itching this morning. [Exit. DUETT. Lio. O bliss unexpected! my joys overpow'r me! My love, my Clarissa, what words shall I find! Remorse, desperation, no longer devour me He bless'dus, and peace is restor'd to my mind. Cla. He bless'd us! O rapture! Like one I recover, Whom death had appall'd without hope, Lio. Cla. without aid; A moment depriv'd me of father and lover; A moment restores, and my pangs are repaid. Forsaken, abandoned, What folly! what blindness! Lio. We fortune accus'd; Cla. And the fates that decreed: Both. But pain was inflicted by heaven, out of kindTo heighten the joys that were doom'd to Our day was o'ercast; [succeed. But brighter the scene is, The sky more serene is, [ness, And softer the calm for the hurricane past. [Exeunt. Enter LADY MARY OLDBOY, MR. JESSAMY, leading her; JENNY, and afterwards, SIR JOHN FLOWERDALE with COLONEL OLDBOY. Lady M. "Tis all in vain, my dear: set me down anywhere; I can't go a step further. I knew, when Mr. Oldboy insisted upon my coming, that I should be seized with a megrim by the way; and and it's well I did not die in the coach. Mr. Jes. But, pr'ythee, why will you let yourself be affected with such trifles? Nothing more common than for young women of fashion to go off with low fellows. Lady M. Only feel, my dear, how I tremble! Not a nerve but what is in agitation; and my blood runs cold! cold! Mr. Jes. Well, but Lady Mary, don't let us expose ourselves to those people; I see there is not one of the rascals about us, that has not a grin upon his countenance. Lady M. Expose ourselves, my dear! Your father will be as ridiculous as Hudibras, or Don Quixote. Mr. Jes. Yes, he will be very ridiculous indeed. Enter JENKINS. Sir J. I give you my word, my good friend and neighbour, the joy I feel upon this occasion, is greatly allayed by the disappointment of an alliance with your family; but I have explained to you how things have happened. You see my situation; and, as you are kind enough to consider it yourself, I hope you will excuse it to your son. Lady M. Sir John Flowerdale, how do you do? You see we have obey'd your summons; and I have the pleasure to assure you, that my son yielded to my entreaties with very little disagreement; in short, if I may speak metaphorically, he is content to stand candidate again, notwithstanding his late repulse, when he hopes for an unanimous election. Col. Well, but, my lady, you may save your rhetoric; for the borough is disposed of to a worthier member. Mr. Jes. What do you say, sir? Enter LIONEL, CLARISSA, and JENNY. Sir J. Believe me, madam, it is not for want of a just sense of Mr. Jessamy's merit, that this affair has gone off on any side: but the heart is a delicate thing; and after it has once felt, if the object is meritorious, the impression is not easily effaced; it would, therefore, have been an injury to him, to have given him in appearance what another in reality possessed. Mr. Jes. Upon my honour, upon my soul, Sir John, I am not in the least offended at this contre temps.-Pray, Lady Mary, say no more about it. Col. Tol, lol, lol, lol. Sir J. But, my dear Colonel, I am afraid, after all, this affair is taken amiss by you: yes, I see you are angry on your son's account; but let me repeat it, I have a very high opinion of his merit. Col. Ay, that's more than I have. Taken amiss! I don't take any thing amiss; I never was in better spirits, or more pleased in my life. [lonel. Sir J. Come, you are uneasy at something, CoCol. Me! Gad I am not uneasy. Are you a justice of peace? Then you could give me a warrant, cou'dn't you? You must know, Sir John, a little accident has happen'd in my family since I saw you last, and you and I may shake hands.Daughters, sir, daughters! Your's has snapt at a young fellow without your approbation; and how do you think mine has serv'd me this morning?-only run away with the scoundrel I brought to dinner here yesterday. Sir J. I am excessively concerned. Col. Now I'm not a bit concern'd. No, d-n me, I am glad it has happened; yet, thus far, I'll confess, I should be sorry that either of them would come in my way, because a man's temper may sometimes get the better of him; and I believe I should be tempted to break her neck, and blow his brains out. Cla. But pray, sir, explain this affair. Col. I can explain it no farther ;-Dy, my daughter Dy, has run away from us. Enter DIANA and HARMAN. Dia. No, my dear papa, I am not run away; and, upon my knees, I entreat your pardon for the folly I have committed: but, let it be some alleviation, that duty and affection were too strong to suffer me to carry it to extremity; and, if you knew the agony I have been in, since I saw you Lady M. How's this? [last Har. Sir, I restore your daughter to you; whose fault, as far it goes, I must also take upon myself. We have been known to each other for some time; as lady Richly, your sister, in London, can acquaint you. Col. Dy, come here. Now, you rascal, where's your sword; if you are a gentleman you shall fight me; if you are a scrub, I'll horse-whip you. Shut the door there, don't let him escape. Har. Sir, don't imagine I want to escape; I am extremely sorry for what has happened, but am ready to give you any satisfaction you think proper. Col. Follow me into the garden, then. Zounds! I have no sword about me. Sir John Flowerdale, lend us a case of pistols, or a couple of guns; and, come and see fair play. Cla. My dear papa! [shall expire. Lady M. Mr. Oldboy, if you attempt to fight, I Sir J. Pray, Colonel, let me speak a word to you in private. Col. Slugs and a saw-pit. Mr. Jes. What business are you of, friend? Har. My chief trade, sir, is plain dealing; and as that is a commodity you have no reason to be very foud of, I would not advise you to purchase any of it by impertinence. Col. And is this what you would advise me to? Sir J. It is, indeed, my dear old friend; as things are situated, there is, in my opinion, no other prudent method of proceeding; and it is the method I would adopt myself, was I in your case. Col. Why, I believe you are in the right of it; say what you will for me, then. Sir J. Well, young people, I have been able to use a few arguments, which have softened my neighbour here; and, in some measure, pacified his resentment. I find, sir, you are a gentleman by your connections? Har. Sir, till it is found that my character and family will bear the strictest scrutiny, I desire no favour, and for fortune Col. Oh! rot your fortune, I don't mind that; I know you are a gentleman, or Dick Rantum would not have recommended you. And so, Dy, kiss and friends. Mr. Jes. What, sir, have you no more to say to the man who has used you so ill? Col. Us'd me ill! That's as I take it; he has done a mettled thing; and, perhaps, I like him the better for it: it's long before you would have spirit enough to run away with a wench. Harman, give me your hand; let's hear no more of this now. Sir John Flowerdale, what say you? shall we spend the day together, and dedicate it to love and Sir J. With all my heart. [harmony? Col. Then take off my great coat. QUARTETTO. Lio. Come then, all ye social pow'rs, Cla. Har. Clarissas to reward 'em. Love, thy godhead I adore, Those idols-wealth, or fashion. Bring the flask, the music bring, Joy will quickly find us; Drink, and laugh, and dance, and sing, Dia. How shall I escape-so naught, Children oft are shameless; Girls a boys have patience; You lend a hand to save 'em. [Exeunt. A FARCE, IN TWO ACTS.-BY SAMUEL FOOTE. Roger. (Without.) Justice Sturgeon, the fishmonger, from Brentford. Sir J. Gad's my life! and major to the Middlesex militia. Usher him in, Roger. Enter MAJOR STURGEON. I could have wished you had come a little sooner, Major Sturgeon. Major S. Why, what has been the matter, Sir Jacob? Sir J. There has, major, been here an impudent pillmonger, who has dared to scandalize the whole, body of the bench. Major S. Insolent companion! had I been here, I would have mittimused the rascal at once. Sir J. No, no; he wanted the major more than the magistrate: a few smart strokes from your cane would have fully answered the purpose. Well, Major, our wars are done; the rattling drum and squeaking fife now wound our ears no more. Major S. True, Sir Jacob; our corps is disembodied; so the French may sleep in security. Sir J. But, Major, was it not rather late in life for you to enter upon the profession of arms? Major S. A little awkward in the beginning, Sir Jacob: the great difficulty they had was, to get me to turn out my toes; but use, use reconciles all them kind of things: why, after my first campaign, I no more minded the noise of the guns than a flea-bite. Sir J. No! Major S. No. There is more made of these matters than they merit. For the general good, indeed, I am glad of the peace; but as to my single self, and yet we have had some desperate duty, the Smithfield pioneers; and by the time he was Sir Jacob. Sir J. No doubt. Major S. Oh! such marchings and countermarchings, from Brentford to Ealing, from Ealing to Acton, from Acton to Uxbridge; the dust flying, sun scorching, men sweating!-Why, there was our last expedition to Hounslow; that day's work carried off Major Molossas. Bunhill-fields never saw a braver commander! He was an irreparable loss to the service. Sir J. How came that about? Major S. Why, it was partly the major's own fault; I advised him to pull off his spurs before he went upon action; but he was resolute, and would not be ruled. Sir J. Spirit; zeal for the service. Major S. Doubtless. But to proceed: in order to get our men in good spirits, we were quartered at Thistleworth, the evening before. At day-break, our regiment formed at Hounslow, town's end, as it might be about here. The major made a fine disposition on we marched, the men all in high spirits, to attack the gibbet where Gardel is hanging; but turning down a narrow lane to the left, as it might be about there, in order to possess a pig-sty, that we might take the gallows in flank, and, at all events, secure a retreat, who should come by but a drove of fat oxen from Smithfield. The drums beat in the front, the dogs barked in the rear, the oxen set up a gallop; on they came thundering upon us, broke through our ranks in an instant, and threw the whole corps in confusion. Sir J. Terrible! Major S. The major's horse took to his heels; away he scoured o'er the heath. That gallant commander stuck both his spurs into his flank, and for some time, held by his mane; but in crossing a ditch, the horse threw up his head, gave the major a douse in the chaps, and plumped him into a gravel-pit, just by the powder-mills. Sir J. Dreadful! Major S. Why, as captain Cucumber, lieutenant Pattyman, ensign Tripe, and myself, were returning to town in the Turnham-green stage, we were stopped near the Hammersmith turnpike, and robbed and stripped by a single footpad. Sir J. An unfortunate day, indeed. Major S. But, in some measure, to make me amends, I got the major's commission. Sir J. You did? Major S. O, yes. I was the only one of the corps that could ride; otherwise we always succeeded of course: no jumping over heads, no underhand work among us; all men of honour; and I must do the regiment the justice to say, there never was a set of more amiable officers. Sir J. Quiet and peaceable. Major S. As lambs, Sir Jacob. Excepting one boxing-bout at the Three Compasses, in Acton, between captain Sheers and the colonel, concerning a game at all-fours, I don't remember a single dispute. Sir J. Why, that was mere mutiny; the captain ought to have been broke. Major S. He was; for the colonel not only took away his cockade, but his custom; and I don't think poor captain Sheers has done a stitch for him since. Sir J. But you soon supplied the loss of Molossas? Major S. In part only: no, Sir Jacob, he had great experience; he was trained up to arms from his youth. At sixteen, he trailed a pike in the Artillery-ground; at eighteen, got a company in twenty, was made aid-de-camp to sir Jeffry Grubb, knight, alderman, and colonel of the yellow. Sir J. A rapid rise! Major S. Yes, he had a genius for war; but what I wanted in practice, I made up by doubling my diligence. Our porter at home had been a serjeant of marines; so after shop was shut up at night, he used to teach me my exercise; and he had not to deal with a dunce, Sir Jacob. Sir J. Your progress was great. Major S. Amazing. In a week, I could shoulder, and rest, and poise, and turn to the right, and wheel to the left; and in less than a month, I could fire without winking or blinking. Sir J. A perfect Hannibal! Major S. Ah, and then I learned to form lines, and hollows, and squares, and evolutions, and revolutions. Let me tell you, Sir Jacob, it was lucky that monsieur kept his myrmidons at home, or we should have peppered his flat-bottomed boats. Sir J. Ay, marry, he had a marvellous escape. Major S. We would a taught him what a Briton can do, who is fighting pro arvis and focus. Sir J. Pray, now, Major, which do you look upon as the best disciplined troops, the London regiments, or the Middlesex militia? Major S. Why, Sir Jacob, it does not become me to say; but, lack-a-day! they have never seen any service. Holiday soldiers! Why, I don't believe, unless indeed upon a lord mayor's-day, and that mere matter of accident, that they were ever wet to the skin in their lives. Sir J. Indeed! Major S. No! soldiers for sunshine-cockneys; they have not the appearance, the air, the freedom, the jenny sequoi, that-oh, could you but see me salute! You have never a spontoon in the house? Sir J. No; but we could get you a shove-pike. Major S. No matter. Well, Sir Jacob, and how are your fair daughters, sweet Mrs. Sneak, and the lovely Mrs. Bruin; is she as lively and as brilliant as ever? Sir J. Oh, ho, now the murder is out; this visit was intended for them: come, own now, Major, did you not expect to meet with them here? You officers are men of such gallantry! Major S. Why, we do tickle up the ladies, Sir Jacob; there is no resisting a red coat. Sir J. True, true, Major. Major S. But that is now all over with me. "Farewell to the plumed steeds and neighing troops," as the black man says in the play; like the Roman censurer, I shall retire to my Savine field, and there cultivate cabbages. Sir J. Under the shade of your laurels. Major S. True; I have done with the major, and now return to the magistrate; cedunt arma togge. Mob. (Without.) Huzza! Re-enter ROGER. Sir J. What's the matter now, Roger? Roger. The electors desire to know if your worship has anybody to recommend? Sir J. By no means; let them be free in their choice: I sha'n't interfere. Roger. And if your worship has any objection to Crispin Heeltap, the cobbler, being returning officer? Sir J. None, provided the rascal can keep himself sober. Is he there? Roger. Yes, Sir Jacob. Make way there; stand further off from the gate: here is madam Sneak in a chaise along with her husband. Major S. 'Gadso, you will permit me to convoy her in. [Exit. This Sturgeon was as pains taking a Billingsgate Sir J. Now here is one of the evils of war. broker as any in the bills of mortality. But the fish is got out of its element; the soldier has quite demolished the citizen. Re-enter MAJOR STURGEON, leading in MRS. SNEAK. Mrs. S. Dear Major, I demand a million of pardons. I have given you a profusion of trouble; but my husband is such a goose-cap, that I can't get no good out of him at home or abroad.-Jerry, Jerry Sneak!--Your blessing, Sir Jacob. Sir J. Daughter, you are welcome to Garratt. Mrs. S. Why, Jerry Sneak! I say. Major S. Mrs. S. Major S. Mrs. S. Major S. Might I be permitted the honour Sir! Just to ravish a kiss from your hand? You have a right to all we can grant. Courteous, condescending, comply Enter JERRY SNEAK, with a band-box and bundle ing.-Hum! ha! (Kisses her hand.) under his arm, a cardinal, &c. Sneak. Here, lovy. Mrs. S. Here, looby: there, lay these things in the hall; and then go and look after the horse. Are you sure you have got all the things out of the chaise? Sneak. Yes, chuck. Mrs. S. Then give me my fan. (Jerry drops the things in searching his pocket for the fan.) Mrs S. Did ever mortal see such-I declare, I am quite ashamed to be seen with him abroad: go, get you gone out of my sight. Sneak. I go, lovy.-Good day to my fatherin-law. Sir J. I am glad to see you, son Sneak: but where is your brother Bruin and his wife? Sneak. He vill be here anon, father, Sir Jacob; he did but just step into the Alley to gather how tickets vere sold. Sir J. Very well, son Sneak. [Exit Sneak. Mrs. S. Son! yes, and a pretty son you have provided. Sir J. I hope all for the best: why, what terrible work there would have been, had you married such a one as your sister; one house could never have contained you. Now, I thought this meek mate Mrs. S. Meek! a mushroom! a milksop! Sir J. Lookye, Molly, I have married you a man; take care you don't make him a monster. to [Exit. Mrs. S. Monster! Why, Major, the fellow has no more heart than a mouse. Had my kind stars indeed allotted me a military man, I should, doubtless, have deported myself in a beseemingly manner. Mrs. S. So elegant, so genteel, so obliging: and then the rank; why, who would dare to affront the wife of a major? Major S. No man with impunity; that I take the freedom to say, madam. Mrs. S. I know it, good sir: oh! I am no stranger to what I have missed. Major S. Oh, madam!-Let me die but she has infinite merit. (Aside.) Mrs. S. Then to be joined to a sneaking, slovenly cit; a paltry, prying, pitiful pin-maker! Major S. Melancholy! Mrs. S. To be jostled and crammed with the crowd; no respect, no place, no precedence; to be choked with the smoke of the city; no country jaunts but to Islington; no balls but to Pewterer's-hall. Re-enter JERRY SNEAK. Sneak. Chuck, my brother and sister Bruin are just turning the corner; the Clapham-stage vas quite full, and so they came by vater. Mrs. S. I wish they had all been soused in the Thames. A prying, impertinent puppy! (Aside to Major.) Major S. Next time I will clap a sentinel to secure the door. (Aside to Mrs. S.) Mrs. S. Major Sturgeon, permit me to withdraw for a moment; my dress demands a little repair. Major S. Your ladyship's most entirely devoted. Mrs. S. Ladyship! he is the very broglio and bellisle of the army Sneak. Shall I vait upon you, dove? Mrs. S. No, dolt; what, would you leave the Major alone? Is that your manners, you mongrel? Major S. Oh, madam, I can never be alone; your sweet idera will be my constant companion. Mrs. S. Mark that. Sneak. Mrs. S. Yes. I am sorry sir, I am obligated to leave Madam Especially with such a wretched com panion. Major S. Oh, madam I Mrs. S. But as soon as my dress is restored, relieve your distress. shall fly to Major S. the greatest Mrs. S. Major S. For that moment I shall wait with impatience. Courteous commander! Paragon of women! Adieu! Major S. Adieu! Tol lol. [Exit Mrs. Sneak. Sneak. Notvithstanding, sir, all chicken my has said, I am special company vhen she is not by. Major S. I doubt not, master Sneak. Sneak. If you vould but come one Thursday night to our club, at the Nag's-head in the Poultry, you would meet some roaring, rare boys, i'faith; there's Jemmy Perkins, the packer; little Tom Simkins, the grocer; honest master Muzzle, the midvife. Major S. A goodly company! Sneak. Ay, and then sometimes ve have the choice spirits from Comus's-court, and ve crack jokes, and are so jolly and funny. I have learnt myself to sing, but I durst not sing out loud, because my vife vould overhear me; and she says as how I bawl vorser than the broom-man, SONG. When I was a lad, I had cause to be sad, I'll bet you a can, you have heard of the man, O Robinson Crusoe! O Robinson Crusoe! Tink a tink tang, tink a ting tang, O poor Robinson Crusoe. |