« EelmineJätka »
Mer. Pr'ythee read this letter, and tell me Fair. My lord, I am very well conlent; what you think of it.
pray do not give yourself the trouble of sayTheo. Ileavens, 'tis a letter from lord Aim- ing any more. worth! We are betrayed.
Ralph. No, my lord, you need not say Mer. By wbat means I know not.
Theo. I am so frighted and flurried, that I Fair. Hold your tongue, sirrab. have scarce strength enough to read it. [Reads. Lord A. I am sorry, Patty, you have bad
Sir, - It is with the greatest concern I this mortification. find that I have been unhappily the occa- Pat. I am sorry, my lord, you have been sion of giving some uneasiness to you and troubled about it. miss Sycamore: be assurd, had I been ap- Fair. Weli, come, children, we will do! prised of your prior pretensions, and the take up his honour's time any longer; let as young lady's disposition in your favour, I be going towards home-Heaven prosper your should have been the last person to inter- lordship; the prayers of me and my family rupt your felicity. I beg, sir, you will do sball always attend you. me the favour to come up to my house, Lord A. Miller, come back-Patty, staywhere I have already so far settled mat- Fair. Has your lordship any thing furtber ters, as to be able to assure you, that every to command us? thing will go entirely to your satisfaction. Lord A. Why yes, master Fairfield, I have
Mer. Well, what do you think of it?- a word or two still to say to you- In short, Shall we go to the castle ?
though you are satisfied in this affair, I am Theo. By all means: and in this very trim; not; aud you seem to forget the promise I to show what we are capable of doing, if my made you, that, since I had been the means father and mother had not come to reason. of losing your daughter one busband, I would
[Exeunt Mervin and Theodosia. find her another. Giles. So, there goes a couple! Icod, I be- Fair. Your honour is to do as you please. lieve old Nick has got among the people in Lord A. What say you, Pally, will you these parts. This is as queer a thing as ever accept of a busband of
my choosing? I heard of.—Master Fairfield and miss Patly, Pat. My lord, I have no determination; it seems, are gone to the castle too; where, you are the best judge how I ought to act; by what I larus from Ralph in the mill, my whatever you command, I shall obey. lord bas omised to get her a husband among Lord A. Then, Pally, there is but one perthe servants. Now set in case the wind sets son I can offer you—and I wish, for your in that corner, I have been thinking with my- sake, he was more deserving-Take me self who the plague it can be: there are no Pat. Sir! unmarried men in the family, that I do know Lord 4. From this moment our interests of, excepting, little Bob, the postillion, and are one, as our hearts ; and no earthly power master Jonathan, the butler, and he's a mal-shall ever divide us. ter of sixty or seventy years old. I'll be shot Fair. O the gracious! Pally-my lordif it beant" little Bob.-Icod, I'll take the way Did I hear right?--- You, sir, you marry a to the castle as well as the rest; for I'd fain child of niine! see how the nail do drive. It is well I had Lord A. Yes, my bonest old man, in me wit enough to discern things, and a friend to you behold the husband designed for your advise with, or else she would have fallen to daughter; and I am bappy, that by standing my lot.—But I have got a surfeit of going a in the place of fortune, who has alone beca courting; and burn me if I won't live a ba- wanting to her, I shall be able to set ber chelor; for when all comes to all, I see no- merit in a light where its lustre will be reothing but ill blood and quarrels among folk dered conspicuous. that are maaried.
Fair. But good, noble sir, pray consider,
don't go to put upon) a silly old maa: my Then bey for a frolicsome life!
daughier is unworihy -Patty, child, wby don't I'll ramble where pleasures are rife;
you speak? Strike up with the free-hearted Jasses, Pai. What can I say, father? what anAnd never think more of a wife,
swer to such inlook'd-for, such unmerited, Plague on it, men are but asses, such unbounded generosity? To run after noise and strife,
Ralph. Down on your knees, and fall » Had we been together buckl’d;
crying 'Twould have prov'd a fine affair : [Ralph is checked by Fairfield, and they Dogs would have bark'd at the cuckold;
go up the Stage. And boys, pointing, cry'd-Look there! Pat. Yes, sir, as my father says, consider
. -- your noble friends, your relations-It must
not, cannot be Scene IV.- A grand Apartment in LORD Lord A. It must and shall- Friends ! rela
AIMWORTH's House, opening to a View lions! from henceforth I bare none, that wil of the Garden.
not acknowledge you; and I am sure, when Enter Lord AIMWORTH, FAIRFIELD, Patty, they will rather admire the justice of my choice,
they become acquainted with your perfections, and Ralph.
than wonder at its singularity. Lord A. Thus, master Fairfield, I hope I have fully satisfied you with regard to the Duett.—LORD AIM WORTH and Parts. falsity of the imputation thrown upon your Lord A. My life, my joy, my blessing, daughter and me
1) To take advadlege, to deceive.
In thee each grace possessing,
Giles. Ods bobs, where am I running-I Pat. To you my all is owing; beg pardon for my audacity. 0! take a heart o'erflowing
Ralph. Hip, farmer; come back, mon, come With gratitude and love. back-Sure my lord's going to marry sister Lord A. Thus infolding,
himself, feyther's to bave a fine house, and Thus beholding,
I'm to be a captain. Both. One to my soul so dear;
Lord A. Ho, master Giles, pray walk in ; Can there be pleasure greater? here is a lady who, I dare say, will be glad Can there be b!iss completer? to see you, and give orders that you shall 'Tis too much to bear.
always be made welcome,
Ralph. Yes, farmer, you'll always be welEnter Sir HARRY, Lady SYCAMORE, Theo.
come in the kitchen. DOSIA, and MERVIN.
Lord A. What, have you nothing to say Sir A. Well, we have followed your lord- to your old acquaintance-Come, pray let the ship’s counsel, and made the besi of a bad farmer salute you-Nay, a kiss-I insist upmarket-So, my lord, please to know our on it. son-in-law that is to be.
Sir H. Ha, ha, ha-hem! Lord A. You do me a great deal of honour Lady S. Sir Harry, I am ready to sink at -I wish you joy, sir, with all my heart.-And the monstrousness of your behaviour. now, sir Harry, give me leave to introduce Lord A. Fie, master Giles, don't look so 1o you a new relation of mine–This, sir, is sheepish; you and I were rivals, but not less shortly to be my wife.
friends at present. You have acted in this Sir H. My lord !
affair like an honest Englishman, wo scorned Lady S. Your lordship's wife!
even the shadow of dishonour, and thou shalt Lord A. Yes, madam.
sit rent-free for a twelvemonth. Lady S. And why so, my lord?
Sir H, Come, shan't we all salute-With Lord A. Why, faith, ma'am, because I can't your leave, my lord, I'll — live happy without her--And I think she has Lady S. Sir Harry! too many amiable, too many estimable qualities to meet with a worse fate.
Lord A, Yield who will to forms a martyr, Sir H. Well, but you are a peer of the
While unaw'd by idle shame, realm; you will have all the fleerers
Pride for happiness I barter, Lord A. I know very well the ridicule that
Hecdless of the millions' blame. may be thrown on a lord's marrying a mill-i Thus with love my arms I quarter; er's daughter; and I own with blushes it has
Women grac'd in nature's frame, for some time had too great weight with me:
Ev'ry privilege, by charter, hut we should marry to please ourselves, not
Have a right from man to claim. other people; and, on mature consideration, Theo. Eas'd of doubts and fears presaging, I can see no reproach justly merited by rais
What new joys within me rise ; ing a deserving woman to a station she is
Wbile mamma, her frowns assuaging, capable of adorning, let her birth be what
Dares no longer tyrannise. it will.
So long storms and tempests raging, Sir H. Why 'tis very true, my lord. I once
When the biust'ring fury dies, knew a gentleman that married his cook-maid:
Ah, how lovely, how engaging, he was a relation of my own-You remember
Prospects fair, and cloudless skies! fat Margery, my lady. She was a very good Sir H. Dad, but this is wondrous pretty, sort of woman, indeed she was, and made
Singing each a roundelay; he best süet dumplings I ever tasted.
And I'll mingle in the dirty, Lady S. Will you never learn, sir Harry,
Though I scarce know what to say. « guard your expressions?-Well
, but give
There's a daughter brisk and witty; ne leave, my lord, to say
word to you:
Here's a wise can wisely sway: There are other ill consequences attending Trust me, masters, 'twere a pity, -uch an alliance.
Not to let tbem have their way, Lord A. One of them I suppose is, that I, Put. My example is a rare one; peer, should be obliged to call this good
But the cause may be divin'd: id miller father-in-law. But where's the sbame
Women want not merit-dare one a that? He is as good as any lord in being
Hope discerning men to find. man; and if we dare suppose a lord that 0! may each accomplish'à fuir one, s not an honest man, he is, in my opinion,
Bright in person, sage in mind, Je more respectable character. Come, master
Viewing my good fortune, share one Cairfield, give yne your hand; from hence
Full as splendid, and as kind. orth you have done with working: we will Ralph. Captain Ralph my lord will dub me, ull down your mill, and build you a house
Soon I'll mount a huge cockade; the place of it; and the money I intended Mounseer sball powder, queue, and or the portion of your daughter, shall now e laid out in purchasing a commission for
'Gad, I'll be a roaring blade, our son.
If Fan shall offer once to snub me, Ralph. What, my lord, will you make me
Wben in scarlet all array'd; captain?
Or my feather dare to drub me, Lord A. Ay, a colonel, if you deserve it.
Frown your worst-but who's afraid? Ralph. Then I'll keep Fan.
Giles. Laughdat, slighted, circumvented,
And expos'd for folks to see't,
Since the fates have thought them meet; 'Tis as tho'f a man repented
This good company contented, For his follies in a sheet.
All my wishes are complete. But my wrongs go unresented,
GEORGE COLMAN JUNIOR Is the son of the author of The Clandestine Marriage. With the precise time of his birth we are unaquainted; but we suppose it to have been about the year 1767. He received his early education at Mr. Fountain's acadeer in Harybone, at that time in high estimation. He was next sent to Westminster School, and afterwards entered at Chrisictoria College, Oxford; but, for what reason we know not, he finished his education at King's College, Old Aberdeca ; bence he relurned to London, and was entered of the Temple; with the design, it is said, 10 qualify him for the bar. But if so, he early in life resigned Coke and Littleton in favour of the Muses. The consciousness of literary talents, and an easy access to the public through the medium of his father's theatre, naturally directed his attention to the drama; and his parent seemed to fester his genius; as he, in the prologue to the first play of his son's, announced bin a ** chip of the old block.” When bis father was scized with ihat malady which rendered lim incapable of superintendang the theatre, Mr. Colman evinced most commendable Elial affection, by the greai attention that the paid ta bia zi to the interests of bis theatre. On the death of his father, His Majesty was pleased to transíer the patept to him; and he has discharged the duties of manager with zoal and alacrily towards the public, and liberality towards suchers and actors. In private life Mr. Colman is social, convivial, and intelligent; and in the playsul contentises of wit and humour, and particularly that agreeable coruscation called reparlee, he may perhaps be equalled, bot, we lbiak, bu rarely been excelled. In his heroic pieces, we observe a poetical vigour, a form of language, and a cast of scntises that forcibly remind us of the very best of our ancient diamatic writers. In the spring of ihe year 1797, Vi, Cina published My Nightgown and Slippers, a thin quarto, consisting of some amusing poetical trifles. lo prelegae and epilngue, we cannot better compare Mr. Colman with any one than with the late Mr. Garrick. His compositions in this way are very abundant, and excellent in their kind,
INKLE AND YARICO,
Opera by George Colman jan. 1787. The great success of this Opora in every thcatre in the Kingdom, since its Ent representation at the Haymarket, is justified by its real merit. The dialogue is not a collection of trile concea Neces, to connect the music; but is replete with iaste, judgment, and manly feeling; the allusions to slavery (nov sa nebis abolislied) correspond with every Britislı, every liberal, mind, The mal-a-propos ofl'er of lakle to sell his Yerice to Sir Christopher, is an admirable incident; and indeed all the characters are as forcibly drawn, that the most trifiy part is effective. — The pathetic story of Inkle and Yarico first allracted sympathy, from the narrative of Mr. Addito, 13 the Spcelator: lo that affecting story, Mr. Colman was indebted only for the cold, calculating Inkle: and the festa, affectionale Yarico;--the rest of the characters and the developement of the wlile are offspring of his abundan! intestisse
WOWSIL SIR CHRISTOPHER CURRY. MEDIUM.
to bring all the natives about us; and we shall SCENE I.-An American forest.
be stripped and plundered in a minute
Trudge, Aye; stripping is the first thing Med. [Without] Hilli ho! ho! that would happen to us; for they seem to be Trudge. [Without] Hip! holla! ho!—Hip!- woefully off for a wardrobe. I'myself say
three, at a distance, with less clotbes than Enter Medium and TRUDGE.
have when I get out of bed: all dancing about Med. Pshaw! it's only wasting time and in black bull; just like Adam in mourning, breath. Bawling, won't persuade him to budge Med. This is to have to do with a schemer! a bit faster. Things are all altered now; and, a fellow who risques his life, for a chance of whatever weight it may have in some places, advancing, his interest.-Always advantage bawling, it seems,
go for argument, here. view! trying, here, to make discoveries that Plague on't! we are now in ihe wilds of may promote his profit in England. Another America.
Botany Bay scheme, maybap. Nothing else Trudge. Hip, hillio-ha-hi!
could'induce him to quit our foraging, parts Med. Hold your tongue, you blockhead, or- from the ship; when he knows every
Trudge. Lord! sir, if my master makes no tant here is not only as black as a pepe more hasle, we shall all be put to sword by corn, but as hot into the bargain, and I like the knives of the natives. I'm told they take a fool, to follow him! and then to let him off heads like hals, and hang 'em on pegs in laiter behind.
Wby, nephew! why, Lette! their parlours, Mercy on us! my head aches with the very thoughts of it. Holo! Mr. Inkle! Trudge. Why, Inkle-Well! only to see master; holo!
the difference of 'men! he'd bave thought it Med. Head aches! zounds, so does mine very hard, now, if I had let him call so often with your confounded bawling. It's enough after me.' Ah! I wish he was calling after
me now, in the old jog-trot way, again., expensive plan for a trader, truly. Wbat, What a fool was I, to leave London for would you have a man of business come foreign parts!—That ever I should leave Thread-abroad, 'scamper extravagantly here and there needle-street, to thread an American forest, and every where, then return home, and bave wbere a man's as soon lost as a needle in a nothing to tell, but that he has been here and bottle of hay!
there and every where? 'sdeath, sir, would Med. Palience, Trudge! patience! If we you have me travel like a lord? Travelling, once recover the ship
uncle, was always intended for improvement; Trudge. Lord, sir, I shall never recover and improvement is an advantage; and adwhat I have lost in coming abroad. When vantage is profit, and profit is gain. Which, my master and I were in London, I had such in the travelling translation of a trader, means, a mortal snug birth of it! wby, I was factotum. that you should gain every advantage of im
Med. Faclolum to a young mercbant is no proving, your profit. I have been comparing such sinecure, neither.
ihe land, here, with that of our own country: Trudge. But then the honour of it. Think Med. And you find it like a good deal of of that, sir; to be clerk as well as own man. the land of our own country - cursedly enOnly consider. You find very few city clerks cumbered with black legs?), I take it. made out of a man '), now-a-days. To be Inkle. And calculating how much it might king, of the counting-house, as well as lord be made to produce by the acre. of ihe bed-chamber. Ah! if I bad bim but Med. You were ? now in the little dressing room behind the Inkle. Yes; I was proceeding algebraically office; tying his bair, with a bit of red tape, upon the subject. as usual.
Med. Indeed! Med. Yes, or writing an invoice with lamp- Inkle. And just about extracting the square black, and shining his shoes with an ink-bottle, root. as usual, you blundering blockhead!
Med. Hum! Trudge. Oh! if I was but brushing the ac- Inkle. I was thinking too, if so many nacounts, or casting up the coats! mercy on us! lives could be caught, how much they might what's ibal?
fetch at the West Indian markets. Med. That! wbat ?
Med. Now let me ask you a question, or Trudge. Did'nt you bear a noise ? two, young cannibal catcher, if you please.
Med. Y-es-but-bush! Oh, heavens be Inkle. Well. praised! bere be is at last.
Med. Aren't we bound for Barbadoes; partly
to trade, but chiefly to carry bome the daughter Enter Inkle.
of the governor, Sir Christopher Curry, who Now, nephew?
bas till now bécn under your father's care, Inkle. So, Mr. Medium.
in Threadneedle-street, for polite English eduMed. Zounds, one would think, by your cation? confounded composure, that you were walking Inkle. Granted. in St. James's Park, instead of an American Med. And isn't it determined, between the Forest; and that all the beasts were nothing old folks, that you are to marry Narcissa as but good company. The bollow trees, here, soon as we get there? centry boxes, and the lions in 'em soldiers; Inkle. A lixed thing. the jackalls, courtiers; the crocodiles, fine Med. Then what the devil do you do here, women; and the baboons, beaus. What the hunting old hairy negroes, when you ought plague made you loiter so long?
to be ogling a fine girl in the ship? Algebra, Inkle. Reflection.
too! you'll have other things to think of when Med. So I should think; reflection generally you are inarried, I promise you. A plodding comes lagging behind. Whal, soheming, 1 fellow's head, in the hands of a young wife, suppose; never quiet. At it again, eb: what like a boy's slate after school, soon gels alí a happy trader is your father, io have so pru- its arithmelic wiped off: and then it appears dent a son for a partner! why, you are the in its true simple slale; dark, empty, and carefullest Co. in the whole city. Never losing bound in wood, Master Inkle. sight of the main chance; and that's the rea- Inkle. Not in a match of this kind. Why, son, perhaps, you lost sight of us, bere, on it's a table of interest from beginning to end, the main of America.
old Medium. Inkle. Right, Mr. Medium, Arithmetic, 1 Med. Well, well, this is no time to talk. own, bas been the means of our parting at Who knows but, instead of sailing to a wed present.
ding, we may, get cut up, here, for a wedding Trudge. Ha! a sum in division, I reckon. dinner: tossed up for a dingy duke perhaps,
[Aside. or stewed down for a black baronel, or eat Med. And pray, if I may be so bold, what raw by an inky commoner? mighty scheme has just tempted you to em- Inkle. Why, sure, you aren't afraid ? ploy your head, when you ought to make Med. Who, I afraid ! ha! ha! ha! no, nat use of your heels?
I! wbat the deuce should I be afraid of? thank Inkle. My heels! here's pretty doctrine! do heaven, I have a clear conscience, and need you think I travel merely for motion? a fine not be afraid of any thing. A scoundrel might 3) Pouhle entendre. The second meaning, generally given not be quite so easy on such an occasion;
by the actor with an arch book at the upper-boxes, but it's the part of an honest man not to bethe place of resort of the London clerks at the The-bave like a scoundrel: I never bebaved like a atres, is, that there are very few clerks really men now-a-days, they being rather dandyish and effemi- 1) Black legs, (slang) for Gamesters; and the blacks, or
ncgroes, have, of course, black lege.
nate in their dress.
scoundrel—for which reason I am an honest|And the Eagle, I warrant you, looks like a man, you know. But come-I hate to boast
goose. of my good qualities. Inkle. Slow and sure, my good, virtuous,
But we merchant lads, tho' the foe we can't Mr. Medium! our companions can be but half
maul, a mile before us: and, if we do but double
Nor are paid, like fine king-ships, to fight at their steps, we shall overtake 'em at one mile's
a call, end, by all the powers of arithmetic.
Why we pay ourselves well, without fighting
at all. Med. Oh, curse your arithmetic! how are we to find our way?
1st Sail. Avast! look a-bead there. Here Inkle. That, uncle, must be left to the doc- they come, chased by a fleet of black devils, trine of chances.
[E.reunt. Midsh. And the devil a fire have I to give Scene II.-Another part of the Forest. A
'em. We han't a grain of powder left. Vbat ship at anchor in the bay, at a small
must we do, lad ?
2nd Sail. Do? sbeer off, to be sure. distance. Enter Sailors and Mate, as returning from spike!
An. Come, bear a band, Master Marline foraging
Midsh. [Reluctantly] Well, if I must, I Mate. Come, come, bear a hand ?), my must [Going to the other side and halloing lads. Tho'f the bay is just under our bow-to Inkle, etc.) Yoho, lubbers! crowd all the sprits, it will take a damned deal of tripping sail you can, d'ye mind me! to come at it-there's hardly any steering clear of the rocks here. But do we muster all Enter Medium, running, as pursued by hands? all right, think ye?
the Blacks. 1st Sail. All to a man – besides yourself, Med. Nephew! Trudge! run - scamper! and a monkey-the three land lubbers 2), that scour-fly! zounds, what harm did I ever do, edged away in the morning, goes for nothing, to be hunted to death by a pack of bloodyou know-they're all dead may-bap, by this. hounds? why, nephew! Oh, confound your
Mate. Dead! you be-why, they're friends long sums in arithmetic! I'll iake care of myof the captain; and, if not brought safe aboard self; and if we must have any arithmetic, dot to-night, you may all chance to 'have a salt and carry one for my money. [Runs off: eel for your supper - that's all. - Moreover, the young plodding spark, he with the grave,
Enter Inkle und Trudge, hastily. foul-weather face, there, is to man the tight Trudge. Oh! that ever I was born, to leave little frigate, Miss Narcissa, what d'ye call her, pen, ink, and powder, for this! that is bound with us for Barbadoes. Rot 'em Inkle. Trudge, how far are the sailors befor not keeping under way, I say! but come, fore us? let's sce if a song will bring 'em to. Let's Trudge. I'll run and see, sir, direcily. bave a full chorus to the good merchant ship,
Inkle. Blockhead, come here. The savages the Achilles, that's wrote by our Captain. are close upon us; we shall scarce be able to The Achilles, though christen'd, good ship, trees with me; they'll pass us, and we may
recover our party. Get behind this tuft of 'ris surmis'd, From that old man of war, great Achilles, so
then recover our ship with safely. priz'd,
Trudge. [Going behind] Oh! ThreadneedleWas he, like our vessel, pray, fairly baptiz’d?
Trudge. [Hiding] needle-street. Poets sung that Achilles — if, now, they've an [They hide behind trees. Nctices cross. ilch
After a long pause, Inhle looks To sing this, future ages may know which is from the trees. which;
Inkle. Trudge. And that one rode in Greece--and the other Trudge. Sir.
[In a whisper. in pitch.
Inkie. Are they all gone by? What tho' but a merchant ship — sure our
look and see? supplies :
Inkle. [Looking round) So, all's safe at Now your men of war's gain in a lottery lies, last. [Coming forward) Norbing like policy And bow blank they all look, when they can't in these cases; but you'à bave run on, like a get a prize!
booby! A tree, I fancy, you'll find, in future, What are all their fine names? when no
the best resource in a hot pursuit. rhino's behind,
Trudge. Oh, charming! It's a retreat for a The Intrepid, and Lion, look sheepish, you'll king ), sir: Mr. Medium, however, bas oot
got up in it; your uncle, sir, has run on like Whilst, alas! the poor Aeolus can't raise the this time, 1 lake it; who are now most likels
a booby; and has got up with our party by wind!
at the shore. But what are we to do nest, sir? Then the Thunderer's dumb; out of tune the Inkle. Recongoitre a little, and then proceed Orpheus;
Trudge. Then pray, sir, proceed to recorThe Cercs has nothing at all to produce; noitre; for, the sooner the better.
Inkle. Then look out, d'ye hear, and tell 1) Make hasto,
Trudge. Y-ye-s-yes; but-[Trembliaz. contempe for every thing on dry land.
1) Charles ad. hid himself in a tree.