When softening tenderness unlocks the mind, PROLOGUE. Written by MR. GARRICK. A SCHOOL for Scandal!--Tell me, I beseech you, Needs there a school, this modish art to teach you? No need of lessons now-the knowing thinkWe might as well be taught to eat and drink: Caused by a dearth of Scandal, should the va pours Distress our fair ones, let them read the papers; Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit, Crave what they will, there's quantum sufficit. "Lord!" cries my Lady Wormwood, (who loves tattle, And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle) Just risen at noon, all night at cards, when threshing Strong tea and Scandal-bless me, how refreshing! "Give me the papers, Lisp-how bold and free [Sips.] Last night Lord L. [Sips.] was caught with Lady D. For aching heads, what charming sal volatile! [Sips. If Mrs. B. will still continue flirting, [tainWe hope she'll draw, or we'll undraw, the curFine satire! poz! in public all abuse it; But, by ourselves, [Sips.] our praise we can't refuse it. Now, Lisp, read you-there, at that dash and star" 'Yes, Ma'am-A certain lord had best beware, Who lives not many miles from Grosvenor square: For should he Lady W. find willingWormwood is bitter."- "Oh! that's me--the villain ! Throw it behind the fire, and never more Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart, Cut Scandal's head off-still the tongue is wagwing. Proud of your smiles, once lavishly bestow'd, brave. For your applause, all perils he would through; you. ACT I. SCENE I-LADY SNEERWELL'S House. LADY SNEERWELL and SNAKE discovered at a Lady S. The paragraphs, you say, Mr. Snake, were all inserted Snake. They were, Madam; and as I copied them myself in a feigned hand, there can be no suspicion from whence they came. Lady S. Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle's intrigue with Captain Boastall? Lady S. Then at once, to unravel this myste ry, I must inform you, that love has no share whatever in the intercourse between Mr. Surface and me. Snake. No! Lady S. No: his real views are to Maria, or her fortune, while in his brother he finds a favoured rival; he is, therefore, obliged to mask his real intentions, and profit by my assistance. Snake. Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself for his success. Lady S. Heavens! how dull you are! Can't you surmise a weakness I have hitherto, through shame, concealed even from you? Must I confess Snake. That's in as fine a train as your lady-it, that Charles, that profligate, that libertine, that ship could wish, in the common course of things. I think it must reach Mrs. Clacket's ear within twenty-four hours, and then the business, you know, is as good as done. Lady S. Why yes, Mrs. Clacket has talents, and a good deal of industry. bankrupt in fortune and reputation, that he it is for whom I am anxious and malicious, and to gain whom I would sacrifice every thing. Snake. Now, indeed, your conduct appears consistent; but pray, how came you and Mr. Surface so confidential? Snake. True, Madam, and has been tolerably Lady S. For our mutual interest; he pretends successful in her day: to my knowledge, she has to, and recommends, sentiment and liberality; but been the cause of six matches being broken off, I know him to be artful, close, and malicious. In and three sons disinherited; of four forced elope-short, a sentimental knave; while with Sir Peter, ments, as many close confinements, nine separate and, indeed, with most of his acquaintance, he maintenances, and two divorces;-nay, I have passes for a youthful miracle of virtue, good sense, more than once traced her causing a tete-a-tete in and benevolence. the Town and Country Magazine, when the parties never saw one another before in their lives. Lady S. Why, yes, she has genius, but her manner is too gross. Snake. True, Madam, she has a fine tongue, and a bold invention; but then, her colouring is too dark, and the outlines rather too extravagant; she wants that delicacy of hint, and mellowness of sneer, which distinguishes your ladyship's scandal. Lady S. You are partial, Snake. Snake. Not in the least: every body will allow that Lady Sneerwell can do more with a word or a look, than many others with the most laboured detail, even though they accidentally happened to have a little truth on their side to support it. Lady S. Yes, my dear Snake, and I'll not deny the pleasure I have at the success of my schemes; [Both rise.] wounded myself, in the early part of my life, by the envenomed tongue of slander, I confess nothing can give me greater satisfaction, than reducing others to the level of my own injured reputation. Snake. True, Madam; but there is one affair, in which you have lately employed me, wherein II confess I am unable to guess at your motives. Lady S. I presume you mean with regard to my friend Sir Peter Teazle and his family. Snake. Yes, I know Sir Peter vows he has not his fellow in England, and has praised him as a man of character and sentiment. Lady S. Yes; and with the appearance of being sentimental, he has brought Sir Peter to favour his addresses to Maria, while poor Charles has no friend in the house, though I fear he has a powerful one in Maria's heart, against whom we must direct our schemes. Enter SERVANT. Serv. Mr. Surface, Madam. Lady S. Show him up; [Exit SERVANT.] he generally calls about this hour-I don't wonder at people's giving him to me for a lover. Enter JOSEPH SURFACE. Jos. Lady Sneerwell, good morning to youMr. Snake, your most obedient. Lady S. Snake has just been rallying me upon our attachment, but I have told him our real views; need not tell you how useful he has been to us, and believe me, our confidence has not been ill placed. Jos. Oh, Madam, 'tis impossible for me to suspect a man of Mr. Snake's merit and accomplishments. Lady S. Oh, no compliments; but tell me when you saw Maria: or, what's more material to us, your brother. Snake. I do: here are two young men, to whom Sir Peter has acted as guardian since their father's death; the eldest possessing the most amiable character, and universally well spoken of; the youngest the most dissipated, wild, extravagant young fellow in the world; the former an avow- Jos. I have not seen either since I left you, but ed admirer of your ladyship, and apparently your I can tell you they never meet; some of your stofavourite; the latter attached to Maria, Sir Peter's ries have had a good effect in that quarter. ward, and confessedly admired by her now, on Lady S. The merit of this, my dear Snake, bethe face of these circumstances, it is utterly unac-longs to you; but do your brother's distresses incountable to me, why you, the widow of a city knight, with a large fortune, should not immediately close with the passion of a man of such character and expectation as Mr. Surface: and more So, why you are so uncommonly earnest to destroy the mutual attachment subsisting between his Brother Charles and Maria. VOL II.... 5 H 67 crease? Jos. Every hour; I am told he had another execution in his house yesterday-In short, his dissipation and extravagance exceed any thing I ever heard. Lady S. Poor Charles? Jos. Aye, poor Charles indeed! notwithstand ing his extravagance one cannot help pitying him; I wish it was in my power to be of any essential service to him; for the man who does not feel for the distresses of a brother, even though merited by his own misconduct, deserves to be—— Lady S. Now you are going to be moral, and forget you are among friends. Jos. Gad, so I was, ha, ha !—I'll keep that sentiment 'till I see Sir Peter, ha, ha! however it would certainly be a generous act in you to rescue Maria from such a libertine, who, if he is to be reclaimed at all, can only be so by a person of your superior accomplishments and understanding. Snake. I believe, Lady Sneerwell, here 's company coming; I'll go and copy the letter I mentioned to your ladyship. Mr. Surface, your most [Exit. Jos. Mr. Snake, your most obedient. I wonder, Lady Sneerwell, you would put any confidence in that fellow. obedient. Lady S. Ah, Maria, my dear, how do you do? What's the matter? Mar. Nothing, Madam, only this odious lover of mine, Sir Benjamin Backbite, and his uncle Crabtree, just called in at my guardian's; but I took the first opportunity to slip out, and run away to your ladyship. Lady S. Is that all? Jos. Had my brother Charles been of the party, you would not have been so much alarmed. male slanderer must have the cowardice of a wo man, before he can traduce one. Enter SERVANT. Serv. Mrs. Candour, Madam, if you are at leisure, will leave her carriage. Lady S. Desire her to walk up. [Erit SERVANT.] Now, Maria, here's a character to your taste; though Mrs. Candour is a little talkative, yet every body allows she is the best natured sort of woman in the world. Mar. Yes with the very gross affectation of good nature, she does more mischief than the direct malice of old Crabtree. Jos. Faith, it's very true; and whenever I hear the current of abuse running hard against the character of my best friends, I never think them in such danger, as when Candour undertakes their defence. Lady S. Hush! hush! here she is. Enter MRS. CANDOUR. Mrs. C. Oh! my dear Lady Sneerwell; well, how do you do? Mr. Surface, your most obedient. Is there any news abroad? No! nothing good I suppose-No, nothing but scandal!-nothing but scandal ! Jos. Just so, indeed, Madam. Mrs. C. Nothing but scandal! Ah, Maria, how do you do, child? what! is every thing at an end between you and Charles? What! is he too extravagant?-Ay! the town talks of nothing else. Mar. I am sorry, Madam, the town is so ill employed. do? we can't stop people's tongues.-They hint, Mrs. C. Ay, so am I, child-but what can one too, that your guardian and his lady don't live so agreeably together as they did. Mar. I am sure such reports are without foundation. Mrs. C. Ay, so things generally are:-It's like Mrs. Fashion's affair with Colonel Coterie; though, indeed, that affair was never rightly clearLady S. Nay, now you are too severe; fored up: and it was but yesterday Miss Prin asdare say the truth of the matter is, Maria heard you were here, and therefore came; but pray, Maria, what particular objection have you to Sir Benjamin, that you avoid him so? Mar. Oh, Madam, he has done nothing; but his whole conversation is a perpetual libel upon all his acquaintance. Jos. Yes, and the worst of it is, there is no advantage in not knowing him, for he would abuse a stranger as soon as his best friend, and his uncle is as bad. Mar. For my part, I own wit loses its respect with me, when I see it in company with malice: -what think you, Mr. Surface? sured me, that Mr. and Mrs. Honeymoon are now become mere man and wife, like the rest of their acquaintance. She likewise hinted, that a certain widow in the next street had got rid of her dropsy, and recovered her shape in a most surprising manner. Jos. The license of invention some people give themselves is astonishing. Mrs. C. 'Tis so-but how will you stop people's tongues? 'Twas but yesterday Mrs. Clacket informed me, that our old friend Miss Prudely was going to elope, and that her guardian caught her just stepping into the York Diligence, with her dancing master. I was informed, too, that Lord Flimsy caught his wife at a house of no extraordinary fame; and that Tom Saunter and Sir Harry Idle were to measure swords on a simiLady S Pshaw-there is no possibility of be-lar occasion.—But I dare say there is no truth in ing witty without a little ill nature; the malice in the story, and I would not circulate such a report a good thing is the band that makes it stick.- for the world. What is your real opinion, Mr. Surface? Jos. To be sure, Madam,-to smile at a jest, that plants a thorn in the breast of another, is to become a principal in the mischief. Jos. Why, my opinion is, that where the spirit of raillery is suppressed, the conversation must be naturally insipid. Mar. Well, I will not argue how far slander may be allowed; but in a man I am sure it is des picable. We have pride, envv, rivalship, and a thousand motives to depreciate each other; but the Jos. You report! No, no, no. Mrs. C. No, no-tale-bearers are just as bad as the tale-makers. Enter SIR BENJAMIN and CRABTREE. Crab. Lady Sneerwell, your most obedient humble servant; Mrs. Candour, I believe you don't know my nephew, Sir Benjamin Backbite; he has a very pretty taste for poetry, and shall make a rebus or a charade with any one. Sir B. Oh fy! uncle. Crab. In faith he will; did you ever hear the lines he made at Lady Ponto's rout, on Mrs. Frizzle's feathers catching fire: and the rebuses -his first is the name of a fish; the next a great naval commander, and— Sir B. Uncle, now pr'ythee. Lady S. I wonder, Sir Benjamin, you never publish any thing Sir B. Why, to say the truth. 'tis very vulgar to print-and as my little productions are chiefly satires, and lampoons on particular persons, I find they circulate better by giving copies in confidence to the friends of the parties; however, I have some love elegies, which when favoured by this lady's smiles, [To MARIA.] I mean to give to the public. tia Piper, had one that produced twins. What, what, says old Lady Dundizzy, (whom we all know is as deaf as a post) has Miss Letitia Piper had twins?-This, you may easily imagine, set the company in a loud laugh: and the next morning it was every where reported, and believed, that Miss Letitia Piper had actually been brought to bed of a fine boy and girl. Omnes. Ha, ha, ha! Crab. 'Tis true upon my honour.-Oh, Mr. Surface, how do you do? I hear your uncle, Sir Oliver, is expected in town; sad news upon his arrival, to hear how your brother has gone on. Jos. I hope no busy people have already prejudiced his uncle against him-he may reform Sir B. True, he may; for my part, I never thought him so utterly void of principle as people say, and though he has lost all his friends, I am told nobody is better spoken of amongst the Jews. Crab. 'Foregad, if the Old Jury was a ward, Charles would be an alderman, for he pays as many annuities as the Irish Tontine; and when he is sick, they have prayers for his recovery in all the synagogues. Sir B. Yet no man lives in greater splendour. Crab. 'Foregad, Madam, they'll immortalize you, To MARIA.] you will be handed down to pos--They tell me, when he entertains his friends, terity, like Petrarch's Laura, or Waller's Sacha- he can sit down to dinner with a dozen of securirissa. ties of his own, have a score of tradesmen waiting in the antichamber, and an officer behind every guest's chair. Sir B. Yes, Madam, I think you'll like them, [TO MARIA.] when you shall see them on a beautiful quarto type, where a neat rivulet of text shall murmur through a meadow of margin;-'Foregad, they'll be the most elegant things of their kind. Crab. But, odso, ladies, did you hear the news? Mrs. C. What-do you mean the report ofCrab. No, Madam, that's not it—Miss Nicely going to be married to her own footman. Mrs. C. Impossible! Sir B. 'Tis very true indeed, Madam; every thing is fixed, and the wedding liveries bespoke. Crab. Yes, and they do say there were very pressing reasons for it. Mrs. C. I heard something of this before. Lady S. Oh! it cannot be; and I wonder they'd report such a thing of so prudent a lady. Sir B. Oh! but Madam, that is the very reason that it was believed at once; for she has always been so very cautious and reserved, that every body was sure there was some reason for it at bottom. Mrs. C. It is true, there is a sort of puny, sickly reputation, that would outlive the robuster character of a hundred prudes. Sir B. True, Madam; there are valetudinarians in reputation as well as constitution, who being conscious of their weak part, avoid the least breath of air, and supplying their want of stamina by care and circumstances, have often given rise to the most ingenious tales. Crab. Very true;-but odso, ladies, did you hear of Miss Letitia Piper's losing her lover and her character at Scarborough.-Sir Benjamin, you remember it? Sir B. Oh, to be sure, the most whimsical cir cumstance. Lady S. Pray let us hear it. Jos. This may be entertaining to you, gentlemen; but you pay very little regard to the feelings of a brother. Mar. Their malice is intolerable. [Aside.] Lady Sneerwell, I must wish you a good morning; I'm not very well. [Exit MARIA. Mrs. C. She changes colour. Lady S. Do, Mrs. Candour, follow her. Mrs. C. To be sure I will ;-poor dear girl, who knows what her situation may be. [MRS. C. follows her. Lady S. 'Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear Charles reflected on, notwithstanding their difference. Sir B. The young lady's penchant is obvious. Crab. Come, don't let this dishearten you-follow her, and repeat some of your odes to her, and I'll assist you. Sir B. Mr. Surface, I did not mean to hurt you, but depend on't, your brother is utterly undone. Crab. Oh! undone as ever man was-can't raise a guinea. Sir B. Every thing is sold, I am told, that was moveable. Crab. Not a moveable left, except some old bottles, and some pictures, and they seem to be framed in the wainscot, egad. Sir B. I am sorry to hear also some bad stories of him. Crab. Oh! he has done many mean things, that's certain. Sir B. But, however, he 's your brother. Crab. Ay! as he is your brother-we'll tell you more another opportunity. [Exeunt CRAB. and SIR B. Lady S. 'Tis very hard for them, indeed, to leave a subject they have not quite run down. Jos. And I fancy their abuse was no more acceptable to your ladyship than to Maria. Crab. Why, one evening at Lady Spadille's assembly, the conversation happened to turn upon the difficulty of breeding Nova Scotia sheep in this country; no, says a lady present, I have seen Lady S. I doubt her affections are farther enan instance of it, for a cousin of mine, Miss Leti-gaged than we imagine;—but the family are to be |