Czytaj książkę: «The Beaux-Stratagem: A comedy in five acts», strona 5

SCENE II

The Inn

Enter Aimwell and Archer laughing

Arch. And the awkward kindness of the good motherly old gentlewoman —

Aim. And the coming easiness of the young one – 'Sdeath, 'tis pity to deceive her.

Arch. Nay, if you adhere to those principles, stop where you are.

Aim. I can't stop; for I love her to distraction.

Arch. 'Sdeath, if you love her a hair's breadth beyond discretion, you must go no farther.

Aim. Well, well, any thing to deliver us from sauntering away our idle evenings at White's, Tom's, or Will's – But now —

Arch. Ay, now is the time to prevent all this – Strike while the iron is hot – The priest is the luckiest part of our adventure; he shall marry you, and pimp for me. But here comes the doctor; I shall be ready.[Exit.

Enter Foigard

Foig. Shave you, noble friend.

Aim. O sir, your servant; Pray, doctor, may I crave your name?

Foig. Fat naam is upon me? My naam is Foigard, joy.

Aim. Foigard! a very good name for a clergyman; Pray, Doctor Foigard, were you ever in Ireland?

Foig. Ireland! No, joy: – Fat sort of plaace is dat shame Ireland? Dey say de people are catched dere when dey are young.

Aim. And some of them here, when they are old; – as for example – [Takes Foigard by the Shoulder.] Sir, I arrest you as a traitor against the government; you are a subject of England, and this morning showed me a commission, by which you served as chaplain in the French army: This is death by our law, and your reverence must hang for't.

Foig. Upon my shoul, noble friend, dis is strange news you tell me, Fader Foigard a subject of England – de son of a Burgomaster of Brussels a subject of England, Ubooboo —

Aim. The son of a bog trotter in Ireland: sir, your tongue will condemn you before any bench in the kingdom.

Foig. And is my tongue all your evidensh, joy?

Aim. That's enough.

Foig. No, no, joy, for I will never spaake de English no more.

Aim. Sir, I have other evidence. – Here, Martin, you know this fellow.

Enter Archer

Aim. [In a Brogue.] Shave you, my dear cussen, how does your health?

Foig. Ah! upon my shoul dere is my countryman and his brogue will hang mine. [Aside.] Mynhere, ick wet neat wat hey zacht, ick univirston ewe, neat, sacrament.

Aim. Altering your language won't do, sir, this fellow knows your person, and will swear to your face.

Foig. Faash! fey, is dere brogue upon my faash too?

Arch. Upon my shalvation dere ish, joy, – But, Cussen Mackshane, vill you not put a remembrance upon me?

Foig. Mackshane! by St. Patrick, dat is my naam shure enough. [Aside.

Aim. I fancy, Archer, you have it.

Foig. The devil hang you, joy – By fat acquaintance are you my cussen?

Arch. O, de devil hang your shelf, joy; you know we were little boys togeder upon de school, and your foster moder's son was married upon my nurse's chister, joy, and so we are Irish cussens.

Foig. De devil taake de relation! Vel, joy, and fat school was it?

Arch. I think it vas – aay – 'Twas Tipperary.

Foig. Now, upon my shoul, joy, it was Kilkenny.

Aim. That's enough for us – self confession – Come, sir, we must deliver you into the hands of the next magistrate.

Arch. He sends you to gaol, you are tried next assizes, and away you go swing into purgatory.

Foig. And is it sho wid you cussen?

Arch. It will be sho wid you, cussen, if you don't immediately confess the secret between you and Mrs. Gipsey – Lookye, sir, the gallows or the secret, take your choice.

Foig. The gallows! upon my shoul I hate that shame gallows, for it is a diseash dat is fatal to our family. – Vel den, there is nothing, shentlemens, but Mrs. Sullen would spaak wid the count in her chamber at midnight, and dere is no harm, joy, for I am to conduct the count to the plaash myself.

Arch. As I guessed. – Have you communicated the matter to the count?

Foig. I have not sheen him since.

Arch. Right again; why then, doctor; – you shall conduct me to the lady instead of the count.

Foig. Fat, my cussen to the lady! upon my shoul, gra, dat's too much upon the brogue.

Arch. Come, come, doctor, consider we have got a rope about your neck, and if you offer to squeak, we'll stop your windpipe, most certainly; we shall have another job for you in a day or two, I hope.

Aim. Here's company coming this way; let's into my chamber, and there concert our affairs further.

Arch. Come, my dear cussen, come along.

Foig. Arra, the devil taake our relashion. [Exeunt.

Enter Boniface, Hounslow, and Bagshot, at oneDoor, Gibbet at the opposite

Gib. Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprize.

Houns. Dark as hell.

Bag. And blows like the devil: our landlord here has shown us the window where we must break in, and tells us the plate stands in the wainscot cupboard in the parlour.

Bon. Ay, ay, Mr. Bagshot, as the saying is, knives and forks, cups and cans, tumblers and tankards. – There's one tankard, as the saying is, that's near upon as big as me: it was a present to the 'squire from his godmother, and smells of nutmeg and toast, like an East India ship.

Houns. Then you say we must divide at the stair-head.

Bon. Yes, Mr. Hounslow, as the saying is – at one end of the gallery lies my Lady Bountiful and her daughter, and at the other, Mrs. Sullen – as for the 'squire. —

Gib. He's safe enough; I have fairly entered him, and he's more than half seas over already – But such a parcel of scoundrels are got about him there, that, egad, I was ashamed to be seen in their company.

Bon. 'Tis now twelve, as the saying is – gentlemen, you must set out at one.

Gib. Hounslow, do you and Bagshot see our arms fixed, and I'll come to you presently.

Houns. and Bag. We will.

[Exeunt Hounslow and Bagshot.

Gib. Well, my dear Bonny, you assure me that Scrub is a coward.

Bon. A chicken, as the saying is – you'll have no creature to deal with but the ladies.

Gib. And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of address and good manners in robbing a lady: I am the most a gentleman that way that ever travelled the road. – But, my dear Bonny, this prize will be a galleon, a Vigo business – I warrant you, we shall bring off three or four thousand pounds.

Bon. In plate, jewels, and money, as the saying is, you may.

Gib. Why, then, Tyburn, I defy thee: I'll get up to town, sell off my horse and arms, buy myself some pretty employment in the law, and be as snug and as honest as e'er a long gown of them all.

Bon. And what think you, then, of my daughter Cherry for a wife?

Gib. Lookye, my dear Bonny, Cherry is the goddess I adore, as the song goes; but it is a maxim, that man and wife should never have it in their power to hang one another; for, if they should, the Lord have mercy upon them both. [Exeunt.

ACT THE FIFTH

SCENE I

The Inn.Knocking without

Enter Boniface

Bon. Coming, coming – a coach and six foaming horses at this time o'night! some great man, as the saying is, for he scorns to travel with other people.

Enter Sir Charles Freeman

Sir C. What, fellow! a public house, and abed when other people sleep?

Bon. Sir, I an't abed, as the saying is.

Sir C. I see that, as the saying is! Is Mr. Sullen's family abed, think ye?

Bon. All but the 'squire himself, sir, as the saying is; he's in the house.

Sir C. What company has he?

Bon. Why, sir, there's the constable, Mr. Gage, the exciseman, the hunch-backed barber, and two or three other gentlemen.

Sir C. I find my sister's letters gave me the true picture of her spouse.

Enter Sullen, drunk

Bon. Sir, here's the 'squire.

Sul. The puppies left me asleep – sir.

Sir C. Well, sir.

Sul. Sir, I am an unfortunate man – I have three thousand pounds a year, and I can't get a man to drink a cup of ale with me.

Sir C. That's very hard.

Sul. Ay, sir, – and unless you have pity upon me, and smoke one pipe with me, I must e'en go home to my wife, and I had rather go to the devil by half.

Sir C. But I presume, sir, you won't see your wife to-night, she'll be gone to bed – you don't use to lie with your wife in that pickle.

Sul. What! not lie with my wife! Why, sir, do you take me for an atheist, or a rake?

Sir C. If you hate her, sir, I think you had better lie from her.

Sul. I think so too, friend – but I am a justice of peace, and must do nothing against the law.

Sir C. Law! as I take it, Mr. Justice, nobody observes law for law's sake, only for the good of those for whom it was made.

Sul. But if the law orders me to send you to gaol, you must lie there, my friend.

Sir C. Not unless I commit a crime to deserve it.

Sul. A crime! oons, an't I married?

Sir C. Nay, sir, if you call marriage a crime, you must disown it for a law.

Sul. Eh! – I must be acquainted with you, sir, – but, sir, I should be very glad to know the truth of this matter.

Sir C. Truth, sir, is a profound sea, and few there be that dare wade deep enough to find out the bottom on't. Besides, sir, I am afraid the line of your understanding mayn't be long enough.

Sul. Lookye, sir, I have nothing to say to your sea of truth; but if a good parcel of land can entitle a man to a little truth, I have as much as any he in the county.

Bon. I never heard your worship, as the saying is, talk so much before.

Sul. Because I never met with a man that I liked before.

Bon. Pray, sir, as the saying is, let me ask you one question: are not man and wife one flesh?

Sir C. You and your wife, Mr. Guts, may be one flesh, because you are nothing else – but rational creatures have minds that must be united.

Sul. Minds!

Sir C. Ay, minds, sir; don't you think that the mind takes place of the body?

Sul. In some people.

Sir C. Then the interest of the master must be consulted before that of his servant.

Sul. Sir, you shall dine with me to-morrow – Oons, I always thought that we were naturally one.

Sir C. Sir, I know that my two hands are naturally one, because they love one another, kiss one another, help one another in all the actions of life; but I could not say so much if they were always at cuffs.

Sul. Then 'tis plain that we are two.

Sir C. Why don't you part with her, sir?

Sul. Will you take her, sir?

Sir C. With all my heart.

Sul. You shall have her to-morrow morning, and a venison pasty into the bargain.

Sir C. You'll let me have her fortune too?

Sul. Fortune! why, sir, I have no quarrel to her fortune – I only hate the woman, sir, and none but the woman shall go.

Sir C. But her fortune, sir —

Sul. Can you play at whist, sir?

Sir C. No, truly, sir.

Sul. Not at all-fours?

Sir C. Neither.

Sul. Oons! where was this man bred? [Aside.] Burn me, sir, I can't go home; 'tis but two o'clock.

Sir C. For half an hour, sir, if you please – but you must consider 'tis late.

Sul. Late! that is the reason I can't go to bed – Come, sir – [Exeunt.

Enter Cherry; she runs across the Stage, and knocksat Aimwell's Chamber Door

Enter Aimwell

Aim. What's the matter? you tremble, child; you are frighted!

Cher. No wonder, sir – but, in short, sir, this very minute a gang of rogues are gone to rob my Lady Bountiful's house.

Aim. How!

Cher. I dogged them to the very door, and left them breaking in.

Aim. Have you alarmed any body else with the news?

Cher. No, no, sir; I wanted to have discovered the whole plot, and twenty other things, to your man, Martin; but I have searched the whole house, and can't find him; where is he?

Aim. No matter, child; will you guide me immediately to the house?

Cher. With all my heart, sir: my Lady Bountiful is my godmother, and I love Mrs. Dorinda so well —

Aim. Dorinda! the name inspires me! the glory and the danger shall be all my own – Come, my life, let me but get my sword. [Exeunt.

SCENE II

A Bedchamber in Lady Bountiful's House

Mrs. Sullen and Dorinda discovered; a Tableand Lights

Dor. 'Tis very late, sister; no news of your spouse yet?

Mrs. Sul. No; I'm condemned to be alone till towards four, and then, perhaps, I may be executed with his company.

Dor. Well, my dear, I'll leave you to your rest; you'll go directly to bed, I suppose.

Mrs. Sul. I don't know what to do; heigho!

Dor. That's a desiring sigh, sister.

Mrs. Sul. This is a languishing hour, sister.

Dor. And might prove a critical minute, if the pretty fellow were here.

Mrs. Sul. Here? what, in my bedchamber, at two o'clock i'th' morning, I undressed, the family asleep, my hated husband abroad, and my lovely fellow at my feet! – O, gad, sister!

Dor. Thoughts are free, sister, and them I allow you – So, my dear, good night. [Exit.

Mrs. Sul. A good rest to my dear Dorinda – Thoughts free! are they so? why, then, suppose him here, dressed like a youthful, gay, and burning bridegroom, [Archer steals out of the Closet.] with tongue enchanting, eyes bewitching, knees imploring [Turns a little on one Side, and sees Archer in the Posture she describes.] – Ah! [Shrieks, and runs to the other Side of the Stage.]. Have my thoughts raised a spirit? What are you, sir? a man, or a devil?

Arch. A man, a man, madam. [Rising.

Mrs. Sul. How shall I be sure of it?

Arch. Madam, I'll give you demonstration this minute.

[Takes her Hand.

Mrs. Sul. What, sir! do you intend to be rude?

Arch. Yes, madam, if you please.

Mrs. Sul. In the name of wonder, whence came ye?

Arch. From the skies, madam – I'm a Jupiter in love, and you shall be my Alcmena.

Mrs. Sul. How came you in?

Arch. I flew in at the window, madam; your cousin Cupid lent me his wings, and your sister Venus opened the casement.

Mrs. Sul. I'm struck dumb with admiration.

Arch. And I with wonder. [Looks passionately at her.

Mrs. Sul. What will become of me?

Arch. How beautiful she looks! – the teeming jolly spring smiles in her blooming face, and when she was conceived, her mother smelt to roses, looked on lilies —

 
Lilies unfold their white, their fragrant charms,
When the warm sun thus darts into their arms.
 

[Runs to her.

Mrs. Sul. Ah! [Shrieks.

Arch. Oons, madam, what do you mean? you'll raise the house.

Mrs. Sul. Sir, I'll wake the dead, before I bear this. What! approach me with the freedoms of a keeper! I'm glad on't; your impudence has cured me.

Arch. If this be impudence, [Kneels.] I leave to your partial self; no panting pilgrim, after a tedious, painful, voyage, e'er bowed before his saint with more devotion.

Mrs. Sul. Now, now, I'm ruined if he kneels. [Aside.] Rise, thou prostrate engineer; not all thy undermining skill shall reach my heart. Rise, and know that I am a woman, without my sex; I can love to all the tenderness of wishes, sighs, and tears – But go no farther – Still, to convince you that I'm more than woman, I can speak my frailty, confess my weakness even for – But —

Arch. For me!

[Going to lay hold on her.

Mrs. Sul. Hold, sir; build not upon that – for my most mortal hatred follows, if you disobey what I command you now – leave me this minute – If he denies, I'm lost. [Aside.

Arch. Then you'll promise —

Mrs. Sul. Any thing another time.

Arch. When shall I come?

Mrs. Sul. To-morrow – when you will.

Arch. Your lips must seal the promise.

Mrs. Sul. Pshaw!

Arch. They must, they must. [Kisses her.] Raptures and paradise! and why not now, my angel? The time, the place, silence, and secrecy, all conspire – And the now conscious stars have pre-ordained this moment for my happiness.

[Takes her in his Arms.

Mrs. Sul. You will not, cannot, sure.

Arch. If the sun rides fast, and disappoints not mortals of to-morrow's dawn, this night shall crown my joys.

Mrs. Sul. My sex's pride assist me.

Arch. My sex's strength help me.

Mrs. Sul. You shall kill me first.

Arch. I'll die with you. [Carrying her off.

Mrs. Sul. Thieves! thieves! murder! —

Enter Scrub, in his Breeches, and one Shoe

Scrub. Thieves! thieves! murder! popery!

Arch. Ha!

[Draws, and offers to stab Scrub.

Scrub. [Kneeling.] O pray, sir, spare all I have, and take my life.

Mrs. Sul. [Holding Archer's Hand.] What does the fellow mean?

Scrub. O, madam, down upon your knees, your marrowbones – he's one of them.

Arch. Of whom?

Scrub. One of the rogues – I beg your pardon, one of the honest gentlemen, that just now are broke into the house.

Arch. How!

Mrs. Sul. I hope you did not come to rob me?

Arch. Indeed I did, madam, but I would have taken nothing but what you might very well have spared; but your crying, Thieves, has waked this dreaming fool, and so he takes them for granted.

Scrub. Granted! 'tis granted, sir; take all we have.

Mrs. Sul. The fellow looks as if he were broke out of Bedlam.

Scrub. Oons, madam, they're broke into the house with fire and sword; I saw them, heard them, they'll be here this minute.

Arch. What! thieves!

Scrub. Under favour, sir, I think so.

Mrs. Sul. What shall we do, sir?

Arch. Madam, I wish your ladyship a good night.

Mrs. Sul. Will you leave me?

Arch. Leave you! lord, madam, did not you command me to begone just now, upon pain of your immortal hatred.

Mrs. Sul. Nay, but pray, sir – [Takes hold of him.

Arch. Ha! ha! ha! now comes my turn to be ravished – You see now, madam, you must use men one way or other; but take this by the way, good madam, that none but a fool will give you the benefit of his courage, unless you'll take his love along with it – How are they armed, friend?

Scrub. With sword and pistol, sir.

[He gets under the Table.

Arch. Hush! – I see a dark lanthorn coming through the gallery – Madam, be assured I will protect you, or lose my life.

Mrs. Sul. Your life! no, sir, they can rob me of nothing that I value half so much; therefore now, sir, let me entreat you to begone.

Arch. No, madam, I'll consult my own safety, for the sake of yours; I'll work by stratagem: have you courage enough to stand the appearance of them?

Mrs. Sul. Yes, yes; since I have escaped your hands, I can face any thing.

Arch. Come hither, brother Scrub; don't you know me?

Scrub. Eh! my dear brother, let me kiss thee!

[Kisses Archer.

Arch. This way – Here —

[Archer and Scrub hide.

Enter Gibbet, with a dark Lanthorn in one Hand, and a Pistol in the other

Gib. Ay, ay, this is the chamber, and the lady alone.

Mrs. Sul. Who are you, sir? What would you have? D'ye come to rob me?

Gib. Rob you! alack a day, madam, I'm only a younger brother, madam; and so, madam, if you make a noise, I'll shoot you through the head: but don't be afraid, madam. [Laying his Lanthorn and Pistol upon the Table.] These rings, madam; don't be concerned, madam; I have a profound respect for you, madam; your keys, madam; don't be frighted, madam; I'm the most of a gentleman. [Searching her Pockets.] This necklace, madam; I never was rude to any lady! I have a veneration – for this necklace.

[Here Archer, having come round, and seizedthe Pistol, takes Gibbet by the Collar, tripsup his Heels, and claps the Pistol to his Breast.

Arch. Hold, profane villain, and take the reward of thy sacrilege.

Gib. Oh! pray, sir, don't kill me; I an't prepared.

Arch. How many is there of them, Scrub?

Scrub. Five and forty, sir.

Arch. Then I must kill the villain, to have him out of the way.

Gib. Hold! hold! sir; we are but three, upon my honour.

Arch. Scrub, will you undertake to secure him?

Scrub. Not I, sir; kill him, kill him!

Arch. Run to Gipsey's chamber; there you'll find the doctor; bring him hither presently. [Exit Scrub, running.] Come, rogue, if you have a short prayer, say it.

Gib. Sir, I have no prayer at all; the government has provided a chaplain to say prayers for us on these occasions.

Mrs. Sul. Pray, sir, don't kill him: You fright me as much as him.

Arch. The dog shall die, madam, for being the occasion of my disappointment. – Sirrah, this moment is your last.

Gib. Sir, I'll give you two hundred pounds to spare my life.

Arch. Have you no more, rascal?

Gib. Yes, sir, I can command four hundred; but I must reserve two of them to save my life at the sessions.

Enter Scrub and Foigard

Arch. Here, doctor: I suppose Scrub and you, between you, may manage him: – Lay hold of him.

[Foigard lays hold of Gibbet.

Gib. What! turned over to the priest already – Lookye, doctor, you come before your time; I an't condemned yet, I thank ye.

Foig. Come, my dear joy, I vil secure your body and your shoul too; I will make you a good catholic, and give you an absolution.

Gib. Absolution! Can you procure me a pardon, doctor?

Foig. No, joy. —

Gib. Then you and your absolution may go to the devil.

Arch. Convey him into the cellar, there bind him: – Take the pistol, and if he offers to resist, shoot him through the head, – and come back to us with all the speed you can.

Scrub. Ay, ay; come, doctor, do you hold him fast, and I'll guard him.

[Exeunt Scrub, Gibbet, and Foigard.

Mrs. Sul. But how came the doctor?

Arch. In short, madam – [Shrieking without.] 'Sdeath! the rogues are at work with the other ladies: – I'm vexed I parted with the pistol; but I must fly to their assistance – Will you stay here, madam, or venture yourself with me?

Mrs. Sul. Oh, with you, dear sir, with you.

[Takes him by the Arm, and exeunt.