Act I

Scene I

Lady Sneerwell’s dressing-room

Lady Sneerwell discovered at her dressing table; Snake drinking chocolate.

Lady Sneerwell

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 whence° they came.

Lady Sneerwell

Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle’s intrigue° with Captain Boastall?

Snake

That’s in as fine a train° as your ladyship could wish. In the common course of things, I think it must reach Mrs. Clackitt’s ears within four-and-twenty hours; and then, you know, the business is as good as done.

Lady Sneerwell

Why, truly, Mrs. Clackitt has a very pretty talent, and a great deal of industry.

Snake

True, madam, and has been tolerably successful in her day. To my knowledge, she has been the cause of six matches being broken off, and three sons being disinherited; of four forced elopements, and as many close confinements; nine separate maintenances, and two divorces. Nay, I have more than once traced her causing a tête-á-tête in The Town and Country Magazine, when the parties, perhaps, had never seen each other’s face before in the course of their lives.

Lady Sneerwell

She certainly has talents, but her manner is gross.

Snake

’T is very true. She generally designs well, has a free tongue and a bold invention; but her colouring is too dark, and her outlines often extravagant. She wants° that delicacy of tint, and mellowness of sneer, which distinguish your ladyship’s scandal.

Lady Sneerwell

You are partial,° Snake.

Snake

Not in the least; everybody allows° that Lady Sneerwell can do more with a word or look than many can with the most laboured detail, even when they happen to have a little truth on their side to support it.

Lady Sneerwell

Yes, my dear Snake; and I am no hypocrite to deny the satisfaction I reap from the success of my efforts. Wounded myself, in the early part of my life, by the envenomed tongue of slander, I confess I have since known no pleasure to equal to the reducing others to the level of my own reputation.

Snake

Nothing can be more natural. But, Lady Sneerwell, there is one affair in which you have lately employed me, wherein, I confess, I am at a loss to guess your motives.

Lady Sneerwell

I conceive you mean with respect to my neighbour, Sir Peter Teazle, and his family?

Snake

I do. Here are two young men, to whom Sir Peter has acted as a kind of guardian since their father’s death; the eldest possessing the most amiable character, and universally well spoken of — the youngest, the most dissipated° and extravagant young fellow in the kingdom, without friends or character: the former an avowed admirer of your ladyship, and apparently your favourite; the latter attached to Maria, Sir Peter’s ward, and confessedly beloved by her. Now, on the face of these circumstances, it is utterly unaccountable to me, why you, the widow of a city knight, with a good jointure, should not close with the passion of a man of such character and expectations as Mr. Surface; and more so why you should be so uncommonly earnest to destroy the mutual attachment subsisting between his brother Charles and Maria.

Lady Sneerwell

Then, at once to unravel this mystery, I must inform you that love has no share whatever in the intercourse° between Mr. Surface and me.

Snake

No!

Lady Sneerwell

His real attachment is to Maria, or her fortune; but, finding in his brother a favoured rival, he has been obliged to mask his pretensions, and profit by my assistance.

Snake

Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself in his success.

Lady Sneerwell

Heavens! how dull you are! Cannot you surmise the weakness which I hitherto, through shame, have concealed even from you? Must I confess that Charles — that libertine, that extravagant, that bankrupt in fortune and reputation — that he it is for whom I am thus anxious and malicious, and to gain whom I would sacrifice everything?

Snake

Now, indeed, your conduct appears consistent: but how came you and Mr. Surface so confidential?

Lady Sneerwell

For our mutual interest. I have found him out a long time since. I know him to be artful,° selfish, and malicious — in short, a sentimental knave; while with Sir Peter, and indeed with all his acquaintance, he passes for a youthful miracle of prudence, good sense, and benevolence.

Snake

Yes; yet Sir Peter vows he has not his equal in England — and, above all, he praises him as a man of sentiment.

Lady Sneerwell

True; and with the assistance of his sentiment and hypocrisy he has brought Sir Peter entirely into his interest with regard 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.

Servant

Mr. Surface.

Lady Sneerwell

Show him up.

Exit Servant.

He generally calls about this time. I don’t wonder at people’s giving him to me for a lover.

Enter Joseph Surface.

Joseph Surface

My dear Lady Sneerwell, how do you do today — your most obedient.

Lady Sneerwell

Snake has just been rallying me on our mutual attachment; but I have informed him of our real views. You know how useful he has been to us; and believe me the confidence is not ill placed.

Joseph Surface

Madam, it is impossible for me to suspect a man of Mr. Snake’s sensibility and discernment.

Lady Sneerwell

Well, well, no compliments now; but tell me when you saw your mistress, Maria — or, what is more material to me, your brother.

Joseph Surface

I have not seen either since I left you; but I can inform you that they never meet. Some of your stories have taken a good effect on Maria.

Lady Sneerwell

Ah! my dear Snake the merit of this belongs to you. But do your brother’s distresses increase?

Joseph Surface

Every hour. I am told he has had another execution in his house yesterday. In short, his dissipation° and extravagance exceed anything I have ever heard of.

Lady Sneerwell

Poor Charles!

Joseph Surface

True madam; notwithstanding his vices one can’t help feeling for him. Poor Charles! I’m sure I wish it was in my power to be of any essential service to him; for the man who does not share in the distresses of a brother, even though merited by his own misconduct, deserves —

Lady Sneerwell

O Lud!° you are going to be moral, and forget that you are among friends.

Joseph Surface

Egad, that’s true! I’ll keep that sentiment till I see Sir Peter. However it is certainly a charity to rescue Maria from such a libertine who, if he is to be reclaimed, can be so only by a person of your ladyship’s superior accomplishments and understanding.

Snake

I believe, Lady Sneerwell, here’s company coming; I’ll go and copy the letter I mentioned to you. Mr. Surface, your most obedient.

Joseph Surface

Sir, your very devoted —

Exit Snake.

Lady Sneerwell, I am very sorry you have put any farther confidence in that fellow.

Lady Sneerwell

Why so?

Joseph Surface

I have lately detected him in frequent conference with old Rowley who was formerly my father’s steward, and has never, you know, been a friend of mine.

Lady Sneerwell

And do you think he would betray us?

Joseph Surface

Nothing more likely; take my word for ’t, Lady Sneerwell, that fellow hasn’t virtue enough to be faithful even to his own villany. — Ah, Maria!

Enter Maria.

Maria, my dear, how do you do? — what’s the matter?

Maria

Oh! there is that disagreeable lover of mine, Sir Benjamin Backbite, has just called at my guardian’s with his odious uncle, Crabtree — so I slipt out and ran hither to avoid them.

Lady Sneerwell

Is that all?

Joseph Surface

If my Brother Charles had been of the party, madam, perhaps you would not have been so much alarmed.

Lady Sneerwell

Nay, now you are severe; for I dare swear the truth of the matter is, Maria heard you were here. But my dear, what has Sir Benjamin done that you should avoid him so?

Maria

Oh He has done nothing — but ’tis for what he has said: his conversation is a perpetual libel on all his acquaintance.

Joseph Surface

Ay, and the worst of it is there is no advantage in not knowing him; for he’ll abuse a stranger just as soon as his best friend: and his uncle’s as bad.

Lady Sneerwell

Nay, but we should make allowance; Sir Benjamin is a wit and a poet.

Maria

For my part, I own° madam, wit loses its respect with me, when I see it in company with malice. What do you think, Mr. Surface?

Joseph Surface

Certainly, madam; to smile at the jest which plants a thorn on another’s breast is to become a principal in the mischief.

Lady Sneerwell

Pshaw! there’s no possibility of being witty without a little ill nature: the malice of a good thing is the barb that makes it stick. What’s your opinion, Mr. Surface?

Joseph Surface

To be sure madam: that conversation where the spirit of raillery° is suppressed, will ever appear tedious and insipid.

Maria

Well I’ll not debate how far scandal may be allowable; but in a man, I am sure it is always contemptible. We have pride, envy, rivalship, and a thousand motives to depreciate each other; but the male slanderer must have the cowardice of a woman before he can traduce one.

Reenter Servant.

Servant

Madam, Mrs. Candour is below, and, if your ladyship’s at leisure, will leave her carriage.

Lady Sneerwell

Beg her to walk in. —

Exit Servant.

Now, Maria, however here is a character to your taste; for though Mrs. Candour is a little talkative, everybody allows° her to be the best-natured and best sort of woman.

Maria

Yes — with a very gross affectation of goodnature and benevolence, she does more mischief than the direct malice of old Crabtree.

Joseph Surface

I’ faith that’s true, Lady Sneerwell: whenever I hear the current running against the characters of my friends, I never think them in such danger as when Candour undertakes their defence.

Lady Sneerwell

Hush! — here she is! —

Enter Mrs. Candour.

Mrs. Candour

My dear Lady Sneerwell, how have you been this century? — Mr. Surface — what news do you hear? — though indeed it is no matter, for I think one hears nothing else but scandal.

Joseph Surface

Just so, indeed, ma’am.

Mrs. Candour

Oh Maria! child — what, is the whole affair off between you and Charles? — His extravagance, I presume — the town talks of nothing else.

Maria

I am very sorry, ma’am, the town has so little to do.

Mrs. Candour

True, true, child: but there’s no stopping people’s tongues. I own° I was hurt to hear it, as I indeed was to learn, from the same quarter, that your guardian, Sir Peter, and Lady Teazle have not agreed lately so well as could be wished.

Maria

’Tis strangely impertinent° for people to busy themselves so.

Mrs. Candour

Very true, child: but what’s to be done? People will talk — there’s no preventing it. Why it was but yesterday I was told that Miss Gadabout had eloped with Sir Filagree Flirt. But, Lord! there’s no minding what one hears; though to be sure I had this from very good authority.

Maria

Such reports are highly scandalous.

Mrs. Candour

So they are, child — shameful, shameful! But the world is so censorious° no character escapes. — Lord, now who would have suspected your friend, Miss Prim, of an indiscretion? Yet such is the ill-nature of people, that they say her uncle stopped her last week, just as she was stepping into York diligence with her dancing-master.

Maria

I’ll answer for ’t there are no grounds for the report.

Mrs. Candour

Oh, no foundation in the world I dare swear: no more probably than for the story circulated last month, of Mrs. Festino’s affair with Colonel Cassino — though, to be sure, that matter was never rightly cleared up.

Joseph Surface

The license° of invention° some people take is monstrous indeed.

Maria

’Tis so; but in my opinion, those who report such things are equally culpable.

Mrs. Candour

To be sure they are; talebearers are as bad as the tale-makers — ’tis an old observation, and a very true one: but what’s to be done, as I said before? how will you prevent people from talking? Today, Mrs. Clackitt assured me, Mr. and Mrs. Honeymoon were at last 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. At the same time Miss Tattle, who was by affirmed, that Lord Buffalo had discovered his lady at a house of no extraordinary fame; and that Sir Harry Bouquet and Tom Saunter were to measure swords on a similar provocation. — But, Lord, do you think I would report these things? No, no! talebearers as I said before, are just as bad as the tale-makers.

Joseph Surface

Ah! Mrs. Candour, if everybody had your forbearance and good nature —

Mrs. Candour

I confess, Mr. Surface I cannot bear to hear people attacked behind their backs; and when ugly circumstances come out against our acquaintances I own° I always love to think the best. — By the by, I hope ’tis not true that your brother is absolutely ruined?

Joseph Surface

I am afraid his circumstances are very bad indeed, ma’am.

Mrs. Candour

Ah! I heard so — but you must tell him to keep up his spirits: everybody almost is in the same way: Lord Spindle, Sir Thomas Splint, Captain Quinze, and Mr. Nickit — all up, I hear, within this week; so, if Charles is undone,° he’ll find half his acquaintance ruined too, and that, you know, is a consolation —

Joseph Surface

Doubtless, ma’am — a very great one.

Reenter Servant.

Servant

Mr. Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite.

Exit Servant.

Lady Sneerwell

So, Maria, you see your lover pursues you: positively you shan’t escape.

Enter Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite.

Crabtree

Lady Sneerwell, I kiss your hand. Mrs. Candour, I don’t believe you are acquainted with my nephew Sir Benjamin Backbite? Egad, ma’am, He has a pretty wit, and is a pretty poet, too. Isn’t he Lady Sneerwell?

Sir Benjamin

O fie, uncle!

Crabtree

Nay egad it’s true; I back° him at a rebus or a charade° against the best rhymer in the kingdom. — Has your ladyship heard the epigram he wrote last week on Lady Frizzle’s Feather catching fire? — Do, Benjamin repeat it, or the charade you made last night extempore° at Mrs. Drowzie’s conversazione.° Come now; your first is the name of a fish, your second a great naval commander, and —

Sir Benjamin

Dear Uncle — now — prithee° —

Crabtree

I’ faith, ma’am, ’twould surprise you to hear how ready he is at all these things.

Lady Sneerwell

I wonder, Sir Benjamin, you never publish anything.

Sir Benjamin

To say truth, ma’am, ’tis very vulgar to print: and as my little productions are mostly satires and lampoons on particular people, I find they circulate more by giving copies in confidence to the friends of the parties. — However I have some love elegies, which, when favoured with this lady’s smile, I mean to give to the public. [Pointing to Maria.]

Crabtree

To Maria. ’Fore Heaven, ma’am, they’ll immortalize you! — you will be handed down to posterity, like Petrarch’s Laura, or Waller’s Sacharissa.

Sir Benjamin

To Maria. Yes madam, I think you will like them, when you shall see in a beautiful quarto page, where a neat rivulet of text shall meander through a meadow of margin. — ’Fore Gad they will be the most elegant things of their kind!

Crabtree

But, ladies, that’s true — have you heard the news?

Mrs. Candour

What, sir, do you mean the report of —

Crabtree

No ma’am that’s not it. — Miss Nicely is going to be married to her own footman.

Mrs. Candour

Impossible!

Crabtree

Ask Sir Benjamin.

Sir Benjamin

’Tis very true, ma’am: everything is fixed, and the wedding livery bespoke.

Crabtree

Yes — and they do say there were pressing reasons for it.

Lady Sneerwell

Why, I have heard something of this before.

Mrs. Candour

It can’t be — and I wonder anyone should believe such a story of so prudent a Lady as Miss Nicely.

Sir Benjamin

O Lud!° ma’am, that’s the very reason ’twas believed at once. She has always been so cautious and so reserved, that everybody was sure there was some reason for it at bottom.

Lady Sneerwell

Why, to be sure, a tale of scandal is as fatal to the credit of a prudent lady of her stamp as a fever is generally to those of the strongest constitutions. But there is a sort of puny, sickly reputation, that is always ailing, yet will outlive the robuster characters of a hundred prudes.

Sir Benjamin

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 supply their want° of stamina by care and circumspection.

Mrs. Candour

Well, but this may be all mistake. You know, Sir Benjamin very trifling circumstances often give rise to the most injurious tales.

Crabtree

That they do, I’ll be sworn ma’am. Did you ever hear how Miss Piper came to lose her lover and her character last summer at Tunbridge? — Sir Benjamin you remember it?

Sir Benjamin

Oh, to be sure! — the most whimsical circumstance.

Lady Sneerwell

How was it, pray?°

Crabtree

Why, one evening at Mrs. Ponto’s assembly, the conversation happened to turn on the breeding Nova Scotia sheep in this country. Says a young lady in company, “I have known instances of it; for Miss Letitia Piper, a first cousin of mine, had a Nova Scotia sheep that produced her twins.” — “What!” cries the old Dowager Lady Dundizzy (who you know is as deaf as a post), “has Miss Piper had twins?” — This mistake, as you may imagine, threw the whole company into a fit of laughter. However ’twas the next morning everywhere reported, and in a few days believed by the whole town, that Miss Letitia Piper had actually been brought to bed of a fine boy and girl: and in less than a week there were people who could name the father, and the farmhouse where the babies were put to nurse.

Lady Sneerwell

Strange indeed!

Crabtree

Matter of fact, I assure you — O Lud! Mr. Surface pray° is it true that your uncle, Sir Oliver, is coming home?

Joseph Surface

Not that I know of, indeed, sir.

Crabtree

He has been in the East Indies a long time. You can scarcely remember him, I believe — Sad comfort, whenever he returns, to hear how your brother has gone on!

Joseph Surface

Charles has been imprudent, sir to be sure; but I hope no busy people have already prejudiced Sir Oliver against him. He may reform.

Sir Benjamin

To be sure he may: for my part, I never believed him to be so utterly void of principle as people say; and, though he has lost all his friends, I am told nobody is better spoken of by the Jews.°

Crabtree

That’s true, egad, nephew. If the Old Jewry° was a ward, I believe Charles would be an alderman: no man more popular there, ’fore Gad! I hear he pays as many annuities as the Irish tontine and that whenever he’s sick, they have prayers for the recovery of his health in the synagogue.

Sir Benjamin

Yet no man lives in greater splendour. They tell me, when he entertains his friends he will sit down to dinner with a dozen of his own securities; have a score of tradesmen waiting in the antechamber, and an officer behind every guest’s chair.

Joseph Surface

This may be entertainment to you gentlemen but you pay very little regard to the feelings of a brother.

Maria

[Aside.] Their malice is intolerable! — [Aloud.] Lady Sneerwell, I must wish you a good morning: I’m not very well.

Exit Maria.

Mrs. Candour

O dear! She changes colour very much!

Lady Sneerwell

Do, Mrs. Candour, follow her; she may want° your assistance.

Mrs. Candour

That I will, with all my soul ma’am — Poor dear girl, who knows — what her situation may be!

Exit Mrs. Candour.

Lady Sneerwell

’Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear Charles reflected on, notwithstanding their difference.

Sir Benjamin

The young lady’s penchant is obvious.

Crabtree

But Benjamin, you mustn’t give up the pursuit for that: follow her and put her into good humour.° Repeat her some of your own verses. Come, I’ll assist you.

Sir Benjamin

Mr. Surface, I did not mean to hurt you; but depend on ’t your brother is utterly undone.°

Crabtree

O Lud,° aye! undone as ever man was — can’t raise a guinea!° —

Sir Benjamin

And everything sold, I’m told, that was movable. —

Crabtree

I have seen one that was at his house. — Not a thing left but some empty bottles that were overlooked, and the family pictures, which I believe are framed in the wainscots —

Sir Benjamin

And I’m very sorry to hear some bad stories against him. Going.

Crabtree

Oh, he has done many mean things, that’s certain!

Sir Benjamin

But, however, as he is your brother — Going.

Crabtree

We’ll tell you all another opportunity.

Exeunt Crabtree and Sir Benjamin.

Lady Sneerwell

Ha! ha! ’tis very hard for them to leave a subject they have not quite run down.

Joseph Surface

And I believe the abuse was no more acceptable to your ladyship than Maria.

Lady Sneerwell

I doubt° her affections are farther engaged than we imagine. But the family are to be here this evening, so you may as well dine where you are, and we shall have an opportunity of observing farther; in the meantime, I’ll go and plot mischief and you shall study sentiment.

Exeunt.

Scene II

A room in Sir Peter Teazle’s house.

Enter Sir Peter Teazle.

Sir Peter

When an old bachelor marries a young wife, what is he to expect? ’T is now six months since Lady Teazle made me the happiest of men — and I have been the most miserable dog ever since! We tifted a little going to church, and fairly quarrelled before the bells had done ringing. I was more than once nearly choked with gall during the honeymoon, and had lost all comfort in life before my friends had done wishing me joy. Yet I chose with caution — a girl bred wholly in the country, who never knew luxury beyond one silk gown, nor dissipation° above the annual gala of a race ball. Yet she now plays her part in all the extravagant fopperies of fashion and the town with as ready a grace as if she never had seen a bush or a grass-plot out of Grosvenor Square! I am sneered at by all my acquaintance, and paragraphed in the newspapers. She dissipates my fortune, and contradicts all my humours;° yet the worst of it is, I doubt° I love her, or I should never bear all this. However, I’ll never be weak enough to own° it.

Enter Rowley.

Rowley

Oh! Sir Peter, your servant: how is it with you, sir?

Sir Peter

Very bad, Master Rowley, very bad. I meet with nothing but crosses° and vexations.°

Rowley

What can have happened to trouble you since yesterday?

Sir Peter

A good question to a married man!

Rowley

Nay, I’m sure, Sir Peter, your lady can’t be the cause of your uneasiness.

Sir Peter

Why, has anybody told you she was dead?

Rowley

Come, come, Sir Peter, you love her, notwithstanding your tempers don’t exactly agree.

Sir Peter

But the fault is entirely hers, Master Rowley. I am, myself, the sweetest-tempered man alive, and hate a teasing temper; and so I tell her a hundred times a day.

Rowley

Indeed!

Sir Peter

Ay; and what is very extraordinary, in all our disputes she is always in the wrong! But Lady Sneerwell, and the set she meets at her house, encourage the perverseness of her disposition. — Then, to complete my vexation,° Maria, my ward, whom I ought to have the power of a father over, is determined to turn rebel too, and absolutely refuses the man whom I have long resolved on for her husband; meaning, I suppose, to bestow herself on his profligate° brother.

Rowley

You know, Sir Peter, I have always taken the liberty to differ with you on the subject of these two young gentlemen. I only wish you may not be deceived in your opinion of the elder. For Charles, my life on ’t! he will retrieve his errors yet. Their worthy father, once my honoured master, was, at his years, nearly as wild a spark; yet, when he died, he did not leave a more benevolent heart to lament his loss.

Sir Peter

You are wrong, Master Rowley. On their father’s death, you know, I acted as a kind of guardian to them both, till their uncle Sir Oliver’s liberality gave them an early independence: of course, no person could have more opportunities of judging of their hearts, and I was never mistaken in my life. Joseph is indeed a model of the young men of the age. He is a man of sentiment, and acts up to the sentiments he professes, but, for the other, take my word for ’t, if he had any grain of virtue by descent, he has dissipated° it with the rest of his inheritance. Ah! my old friend, Sir Oliver, will be deeply mortified when he finds how part of his bounty has been misapplied.

Rowley

I am sorry to find you so violent against the young man, because this may be the most critical period of his fortune. I came hither with news that will surprise you.

Sir Peter

What! let me hear.

Rowley

Sir Oliver is arrived, and at this moment in town.

Sir Peter

How! you astonish me! I thought you did not expect him this month.

Rowley

I did not; but his passage has been remarkably quick.

Sir Peter

Egad, I shall rejoice to see my old friend. ’T is fifteen years since we met. — We have had many a day together: — but does he still enjoin us not to inform his nephews of his arrival?

Rowley

Most strictly. He means, before it is known, to make some trial of their dispositions.

Sir Peter

Ah! there needs no art to discover their merits — however he shall have his way; but, pray,° does he know I am married?

Rowley

Yes, and will soon wish you joy.

Sir Peter

What, as we drink health to a friend in a consumption! Ah! Oliver will laugh at me. We used to rail° at matrimony together, but he has been steady to his text. — Well, he must be soon at my house, though — I’ll instantly give orders for his reception. — But, Master Rowley, don’t drop a word that Lady Teazle and I ever disagree.

Rowley

By no means.

Sir Peter

For I should never be able to stand Noll’s jokes; so I’ll have him think, Lord forgive me! that we are a very happy couple.

Rowley

I understand you: — but then you must be very careful not to differ while he is in the house with you.

Sir Peter

Egad, and so we must — and that’s impossible. Ah! Master Rowley, when an old bachelor marries a young wife, he deserves — no — the crime carries its punishment along with it.

Exeunt.

Act II

Scene I

A room in Sir Peter Teazle’s house

Enter Sir Peter and Lady Teazle.

Sir Peter

Lady Teazle, Lady Teazle, I’ll not bear it!

Lady Teazle

Sir Peter, Sir Peter, you may bear it or not, as you please; but I ought to have my own way in everything, and what’s more, I will too. What! though I was educated in the country, I know very well that women of fashion in London are accountable to nobody after they are married.

Sir Peter

Very well, ma’am, very well; — so a husband is to have no influence, no authority?

Lady Teazle

Authority! No, to be sure: — if you want authority over me, you should have adopted me, and not married me: I am sure you were old enough.

Sir Peter

Old enough! — ay, there it is. Well, well, Lady Teazle, though my life may be made unhappy by your temper, I’ll not be ruined by your extravagance!

Lady Teazle

My extravagance! I’m sure I’m not more extravagant than a woman of fashion ought to be.

Sir Peter

No, no, madam, you shall throw away no more sums on such unmeaning luxury. ’Slife! to spend as much to furnish your dressing-room with flowers in winter as would suffice to turn the Pantheon into a greenhouse, and give a fête champêtre at Christmas.

Lady Teazle

And am I to blame, Sir Peter, because flowers are dear in cold weather? You should find fault with the climate, and not with me. For my part, I’m sure I wish it was spring all the year round, and that roses grew under our feet!

Sir Peter

Oons! madam — if you had been born to this, I shouldn’t wonder at your talking thus; but you forget what your situation was when I married you.

Lady Teazle

No, no, I don’t; ’twas a very disagreeable one, or I should never have married you.

Sir Peter

Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a humbler style — the daughter of a plain country squire. Recollect, Lady Teazle, when I saw you first sitting at your tambour, in a pretty figured linen gown, with a bunch of keys at your side, your hair combed smooth over a roll, and your apartment hung round with fruits in worsted, of your own working.

Lady Teazle

Oh, yes! I remember it very well, and a curious life I led. — My daily occupation to inspect the dairy, superintend the poultry, make extracts from the family receipt book, and comb my aunt Deborah’s lapdog.

Sir Peter

Yes, yes, ma’am, ’twas so indeed.

Lady Teazle

And then you know, my evening amusements! To draw patterns for ruffles, which I had not materials to make up; to play Pope Joan with the curate; to read a sermon to my aunt; or to be stuck down to an old spinet to strum my father to sleep after a fox-chase.

Sir Peter

I am glad you have so good a memory. Yes, madam, these were the recreations I took you from; but now you must have your coach — vis-à-vis — and three powdered footmen before your chair; and, in the summer, a pair of white cats to draw you to Kensington Gardens. No recollection, I suppose, when you were content to ride double, behind the butler, on a docked coach-horse.

Lady Teazle

No — I swear I never did that: I deny the butler and the coach-horse.

Sir Peter

This, madam, was your situation; and what have I done for you? I have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank — in short, I have made you my wife.

Lady Teazle

Well, then, and there is but one thing more you can make me to add to the obligation, that is —

Sir Peter

My widow, I suppose?

Lady Teazle

Hem! hem!

Sir Peter

I thank you, madam — but don’t flatter yourself; for, though your ill conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall never break my heart, I promise you: however, I am equally obliged to you for the hint.

Lady Teazle

Then why will you endeavour to make yourself so disagreeable to me, and thwart me in every little elegant expense?

Sir Peter

’Slife, madam, I say, had you any of these little elegant expenses when you married me?

Lady Teazle

Lud,° Sir Peter! would you have me be out of the fashion?

Sir Peter

The fashion, indeed! what had you to do with the fashion before you married me?

Lady Teazle

For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.

Sir Peter

Ay — there again — taste! Zounds! madam, you had no taste when you married me!

Lady Teazle

That’s very true, indeed, Sir Peter! and after having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow.° But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our daily jangle, I presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell’s.

Sir Peter

Ay, there’s another precious circumstance — a charming set of acquaintance you have made there!

Lady Teazle

Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and fortune, and remarkable tenacious of reputation.

Sir Peter

Yes, egad, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance; for they don’t choose anybody should have a character but themselves! Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on a hurdle who has done less mischief than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal, and clippers of reputation.

Lady Teazle

What, would you restrain the freedom of speech?

Sir Peter

Ah! they have made you just as bad as anyone of the society.

Lady Teazle

Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable grace.

Sir Peter

Grace indeed!

Lady Teazle

But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse. — When I say an ill-natured thing, ’tis out of pure good humour;° and I take it for granted they deal exactly in the same manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell’s too.

Sir Peter

Well, well, I’ll call in, just to look after my own character.

Lady Teazle

Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or you’ll be too late. So goodbye to ye.

Exit Lady Teazle.

Sir Peter

So — I have gained much by my intended expostulation! Yet with what a charming air she contradicts everything I say, and how pleasingly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can’t make her love me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she is doing everything in her power to plague me.

Exit.

Scene II

A room in Lady Sneerwell’s house.

Lady Sneerwell, Mrs. Candour, Crabtree, Sir Benjamin Backbite, and Joseph Surface, discovered.

Lady Sneerwell

Nay, positively, we will hear it.

Joseph Surface

Yes, yes, the epigram, by all means.

Sir Benjamin

O plague on ’t, uncle! ’tis mere nonsense.

Crabtree

No, no; ’fore Gad, very clever for an extempore!°

Sir Benjamin

But, ladies, you should be acquainted with the circumstance. You must know that one day last week, as Lady Betty Curricle was taking the dust in Hyde Park, in a sort of duodecimo phaeton,° she desired me to write some verses on her ponies; upon which, I took out my pocketbook, and in one moment produced the following: —

Sure never was seen two such beautiful ponies;
Other horses are clowns, but these macaronies:
To give them this title I’m sure can’t be wrong,
Their legs are so slim and their tails are so long.

Crabtree

There, ladies, done in the smack of a whip, and on horseback too.

Joseph Surface

A very Phoebus,° mounted — indeed, Sir Benjamin!

Sir Benjamin

Oh dear, sir! trifles — trifles.

Enter Lady Teazle and Maria.

Mrs. Candour

I must have a copy.

Lady Sneerwell

Lady Teazle, I hope we shall see Sir Peter?

Lady Teazle

I believe he’ll wait on° your ladyship presently.

Lady Sneerwell

Maria, my love, you look grave. Come, you shall sit down to piquet° with Mr. Surface.

Maria

I take very little pleasure in cards — however, I’ll do as your ladyship pleases.

Lady Teazle

I am surprised Mr. Surface should sit down with her; I thought he would have embraced this opportunity of speaking to me before Sir Peter came. [Aside.]

Mrs. Candour

Now, I’ll die; but you are so scandalous, I’ll forswear° your society.

Lady Teazle

What’s the matter, Mrs. Candour?

Mrs. Candour

They’ll not allow° our friend Miss Vermillion to be handsome.

Lady Sneerwell

Oh, surely she is a pretty woman.

Crabtree

I am very glad you think so, ma’am.

Mrs. Candour

She has a charming fresh colour.

Lady Teazle

Yes, when it is fresh put on.

Mrs. Candour

O, fie! I’ll swear her colour is natural: I have seen it come and go!

Lady Teazle

I dare swear you have, ma’am: it goes off at night, and comes again in the morning.

Sir Benjamin

True, ma’am, it not only comes and goes; but, what’s more, egad, her maid can fetch and carry it!

Mrs. Candour

Ha! ha! ha! how I hate to hear you talk so! But surely, now, her sister is, or was, very handsome.

Crabtree

Who? Mrs. Evergreen? O Lord! she’s six-and-fifty if she’s an hour!

Mrs. Candour

Now positively you wrong her; fifty-two or fifty-three is the utmost — and I don’t think she looks more.

Sir Benjamin

Ah! there’s no judging by her looks, unless one could see her face.

Lady Sneerwell

Well, well, if Mrs. Evergreen does take some pains to repair the ravages of time, you must allow° she effects° it with great ingenuity; and surely that’s better than the careless manner in which the widow Ochre caulks her wrinkles.

Sir Benjamin

Nay, now, Lady Sneerwell, you are severe upon the widow. Come, come, ’tis not that she paints° so ill — but, when she has finished her face, she joins it on so badly to her neck, that she looks like a mended statue, in which the connoisseur may see at once that the head is modern, though the trunk’s° antique.

Crabtree

Ha! ha! ha! Well said, nephew.

Mrs. Candour

Ha! ha! ha! Well, you make me laugh; but I vow I hate you for it. — What do you think of Miss Simper?

Sir Benjamin

Why, she has very pretty teeth.

Lady Teazle

Yes; and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor laughing (which very seldom happens), she never absolutely shuts her mouth, but leaves it always on ajar, as it were — thus. [Shows her teeth.]

Mrs. Candour

How can you be so ill-natured?

Lady Teazle

Nay, I allow° even that’s better than the pains Mrs. Prim takes to conceal her losses in front. She draws her mouth till it positively resembles the aperture of a poor’s-box, and all her words appear to slide out edgewise, as it were — thus: How do you do, madam? Yes, madam. [Mimics.]

Lady Sneerwell

Very well, Lady Teazle; I see you can be a little severe.

Lady Teazle

In defence of a friend it is but justice. — But here comes Sir Peter to spoil our pleasantry.

Enter Sir Peter Teazle.

Sir Peter

Ladies, your most obedient. — [Aside.] Mercy on me, here is the whole set! a character dead at every word, I suppose.

Mrs. Candour

I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter. They have been so censorious° — and Lady Teazle as bad as anyone.

Sir Peter

That must be very distressing to you, indeed, Mrs. Candour.

Mrs. Candour

Oh, they will allow° good qualities to nobody; not even good nature to our friend, Mrs. Pursy.

Lady Teazle

What, the fat dowager° who was at Mrs. Quadrille’s last night?

Mrs. Candour

Nay, her bulk is her misfortune; and, when she takes so much pains to get rid of it, you ought not to reflect on her.

Lady Sneerwell

That’s very true, indeed.

Lady Teazle

Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey; laces herself by pulleys; and often, in the hottest noon in summer, you may see her on a little squat pony, with her hair plaited up like a drummer’s and puffing round the Ring on a full trot.

Mrs. Candour

I thank you, Lady Teazle, for defending her.

Sir Peter

Yes, a good defence, truly.

Mrs. Candour

Truly, Lady Teazle is as censorious° as Miss Sallow.

Crabtree

Yes, and she is a curious being to pretend to be censorious — an awkward gawky, without any one good point under heaven.

Mrs. Candour

Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss Sallow is a near relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her person, great allowance is to be made; for, let me tell you, a woman labours under many disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl of six-and-thirty.

Lady Sneerwell

Though, surely, she is handsome still — and for the weakness in her eyes, considering how much she reads by candlelight, it is not to be wondered at.

Mrs. Candour

True, and then as to her manner; upon my word, I think it is particularly graceful, considering she never had the least education: for you know her mother was a Welsh milliner,° and her father a sugar-baker at Bristol.

Sir Benjamin

Ah! you are both of you too good-natured!

Sir Peter

Yes, damned good-natured! This their own relation! mercy on me! [Aside.]

Mrs. Candour

For my part, I own° I cannot bear to hear a friend ill spoken of.

Sir Peter

No, to be sure!

Sir Benjamin

Oh! you are of a moral turn. Mrs. Candour and I can sit for an hour and hear Lady Stucco talk sentiment.

Lady Teazle

Nay, I vow Lady Stucco is very well with the dessert after dinner; for she’s just like the French fruit one cracks for mottoes — made up of paint and proverb.

Mrs. Candour

Well, I will never join in ridiculing a friend; and so I constantly tell my cousin Ogle, and you all know what pretensions she has to be critical on beauty.

Crabtree

Oh, to be sure! she has herself the oddest countenance that ever was seen; ’tis a collection of features from all the different countries of the globe.

Sir Benjamin

So she has, indeed — an Irish front° —

Crabtree

Caledonian° locks —

Sir Benjamin

Dutch nose —

Crabtree

Austrian lips —

Sir Benjamin

Complexion of a Spaniard —

Crabtree

And teeth à la Chinoise —

Sir Benjamin

In short, her face resembles a table d’hôte at Spa — where no two guests are of a nation —

Crabtree

Or a congress at the close of a general war — wherein all the members, even to her eyes, appear to have a different interest, and her nose and chin are the only parties likely to join issue.

Mrs. Candour

Ha! ha! ha!

Sir Peter

Mercy on my life! — a person they dine with twice a week! [Aside.]

Lady Sneerwell

Go, go; you are a couple of provoking° toads.

Mrs. Candour

Nay, but I vow you shall not carry the laugh off so — for give me leave to say that Mrs. Ogle —

Sir Peter

Madam, madam, I beg your pardon — there’s no stopping these good gentlemen’s tongues. But when I tell you, Mrs. Candour, that the lady they are abusing is a particular friend of mine, I hope you’ll not take her part.

Lady Sneerwell

Ha! ha! ha! well said, Sir Peter! but you are a cruel creature — too phlegmatic° yourself for a jest, and too peevish to allow° wit in others.

Sir Peter

Ah, madam, true wit is more nearly allied to good-nature than your ladyship is aware of.

Lady Teazle

True, Sir Peter: I believe they are so near akin that they can never be united.

Sir Benjamin

Or rather, madam, suppose them man and wife, because one seldom sees them together.

Lady Teazle

But Sir Peter is such an enemy to scandal, I believe he would have it put down by parliament.

Sir Peter

’Fore heaven, madam, if they were to consider the sporting with reputation of as much importance as poaching on manors, and pass an act for the preservation of fame, as well as game, I believe many would thank them for the bill.

Lady Sneerwell

O Lud!° Sir Peter; would you deprive us of our privileges?

Sir Peter

Ay, madam, and then no person should be permitted to kill characters and run down reputations, but qualified old maids and disappointed widows.

Lady Sneerwell

Go, you monster!

Mrs. Candour

But, surely, you would not be quite so severe on those who only report what they hear?

Sir Peter

Yes, madam, I would have law merchant for them too; and in all cases of slander currency, whenever the drawer of the lie was not to be found, the injured party should have a right to come on any of the endorsers.

Crabtree

Well, for my part, I believe there never was a scandalous tale without some foundation.

Sir Peter

Oh, nine out of ten of the malicious inventions are founded on some ridiculous misrepresentation.

Lady Sneerwell

Come, ladies, shall we sit down to cards in the next room?

Enter Servant, who whispers Sir Peter.

Sir Peter

I’ll be with them directly. —

Exit Servant.

I’ll get away unperceived. [Aside.]

Lady Sneerwell

Sir Peter, you are not going to leave us?

Sir Peter

Your ladyship must excuse me; I’m called away by particular business. But I leave my character behind me.

Exit Sir Peter.

Sir Benjamin

Well — certainly Lady Teazle, that lord of yours is a strange being: I could tell you some stories of him would make you laugh heartily if he were not your husband.

Lady Teazle

Oh, pray° don’t mind that; come, do let’s hear them.

Exeunt all but Joseph Surface and Maria.

Joseph Surface

Maria, I see you have no satisfaction in this society.

Maria

How is it possible I should? — If to raise malicious smiles at the infirmities or misfortunes of those who have never injured us be the province of wit or humour, Heaven grant me a double portion of dullness!

Joseph Surface

Yet they appear more ill-natured than they are; they have no malice at heart.

Maria

Then is their conduct still more contemptible; for, in my opinion, nothing could excuse the intemperance of their tongues but a natural and uncontrollable bitterness of mind.

Joseph Surface

Undoubtedly, madam; and it has always been a sentiment of mine, that to propagate a malicious truth wantonly° is more despicable than to falsify from revenge. But can you, Maria, feel thus for others, and be unkind to me alone? Is hope to be denied the tenderest passion?

Maria

Why will you distress me by renewing this subject?

Joseph Surface

Ah, Maria! you would not treat me thus, and oppose your guardian, St. Peter’s will, but that I see that profligate° Charles is still a favoured rival!

Maria

Ungenerously urged! But, whatever my sentiments are for that unfortunate young man, be assured I shall not feel more bound to give him up, because his distresses have lost him the regard even of a brother.

Joseph Surface

Nay, but, Maria, do not leave me with a frown: by all that’s honest, I swear — [Kneels.]

Reenter Lady Teazle behind.

[Aside.] Gad’s life, here’s Lady Teazle. — [Aloud to Maria.] You must not — no, you shall not — for, though I have the greatest regard for Lady Teazle —

Maria

Lady Teazle!

Joseph Surface

Yet were Sir Peter to suspect —

Lady Teazle

[Coming forward.] What is this, pray?° Does he take her for me? — Child, you are wanted in the next room. —

Exit Maria.

What is all this, pray?

Joseph Surface

Oh, the most unlucky circumstance in nature! Maria has somehow suspected the tender concern I have for your happiness, and threatened to acquaint Sir Peter with her suspicions, and I was just endeavouring to reason with her when you came in.

Lady Teazle

Indeed! but you seemed to adopt a very tender mode of reasoning — do you usually argue on your knees?

Joseph Surface

Oh, she’s a child, and I thought a little bombast — But, Lady Teazle, when are you to give me your judgment on my library, as you promised?

Lady Teazle

No, no; I begin to think it would be imprudent, and you know I admit you as a lover no farther than fashion requires.

Joseph Surface

True — a mere Platonic cicisbeo° — what every wife is entitled to.

Lady Teazle

Certainly, one must not be out of the fashion. — However, I have so many of my country prejudices left, that, though Sir Peter’s ill-humour° may vex° me ever so, it never shall provoke me to —

Joseph Surface

The only revenge in your power. — Well, I applaud your moderation.

Lady Teazle

Go — you are an insinuating wretch! But we shall be missed — let us join the company.

Joseph Surface

But we had best not return together.

Lady Teazle

Well, don’t stay; for Maria shan’t come to hear any more of your reasoning, I promise you.

Exit.

Joseph Surface

A curious dilemma, truly, my politics have run me into! I wanted, at first, only to ingratiate myself with Lady Teazle, that she might not be my enemy with Maria; and I have, I don’t know how, become her serious lover. Sincerely I begin to wish I had never made such a point of gaining so very good a character, for it has led me into so many cursed rogueries that I doubt° I shall be exposed at last.

Exit.

Scene III

A room in Sir Peter Teazle’s house.

Enter Sir Oliver Surface and Rowley.

Sir Oliver

Ha! ha! ha! so my old friend is married, hey? — a young wife out of the country. Ha! ha! ha! that he should have stood bluff to old bachelor so long, and sink into a husband at last!

Rowley

But you must not rally° him on the subject, Sir Oliver; ’tis a tender point. I assure you, though he has been married only seven months.

Sir Oliver

Then he has been just half a year on the stool of repentance! — Poor Peter! But you say he has entirely given up Charles — never sees him, hey?

Rowley

His prejudice against him is astonishing, and I am sure greatly increased by a jealousy of him with Lady Teazle, which he has industriously been led into by a scandalous society in the neighbourhood, who have contributed not a little to Charles’s ill name. Whereas, the truth is, I believe, if the lady is partial to either of them, his brother is the favourite.

Sir Oliver

Ay, I know there is a set of malicious, prating,° prudent gossips, both male and female, who murder characters to kill time, and will rob a young fellow of his good name before he has years to know the value of it. — But I am not to be prejudiced against my nephew by such, I promise you! — No, no; if Charles has done nothing false or mean, I shall compound for his extravagance.

Rowley

Then, my life on ’t, you will reclaim him. — Ah, sir, it gives me new life to find that your heart is not turned against him, and that the son of my good old master has one friend, however, left.

Sir Oliver

What! shall I forget, Master Rowley, when I was at his years myself? Egad, my brother and I were neither of us very prudent youths; and yet, I believe, you have not seen many better men than your old master was?

Rowley

Sir, ’tis this reflection gives me assurance that Charles may yet be a credit to his family. — But here comes Sir Peter!

Sir Oliver

Egad, so he does! Mercy on me! he’s greatly altered, and seems to have a settled married look! One may read husband in his face at this distance!

Enter Sir Peter Teazle.

Sir Peter

Ha! Sir Oliver — my old friend! Welcome to England a thousand times!

Sir Oliver

Thank you, thank you, Sir Peter! and i’ faith I am glad to find you well, believe me!

Sir Peter

Oh! ’Tis a long time since we met — fifteen years, I doubt,° Sir Oliver, and many a cross accident in the time.

Sir Oliver

Ay, I have had my share. But, what! I find you are married, hey, my old boy? Well, well, it can’t be helped; and so — I wish you joy with all my heart!

Sir Peter

Thank you, thank you, Sir Oliver. — Yes, I have entered into — the happy state; — but we’ll not talk of that now.

Sir Oliver

True, true, Sir Peter; old friends should not begin on grievances at first meeting. No, no no —

Rowley

[Aside to Sir Oliver.] Take care, pray, sir. —

Sir Oliver

Well, so one of my nephews is a wild rogue, hey?

Sir Peter

Wild! Ah! my old friend, I grieve for your disappointment there; he’s a lost young man, indeed. However, his brother will make you amends; Joseph is, indeed, what a youth should be — everybody in the world speaks well of him.

Sir Oliver

I am sorry to hear it — he has too good a character to be an honest fellow. Everybody speaks well of him! Pshaw! then he has bowed as low to knaves and fools as to the honest dignity of genius and virtue.

Sir Peter

What, Sir Oliver! do you blame him for not making enemies?

Sir Oliver

Yes, if he has merit enough to deserve them.

Sir Peter

Well, well, you’ll be convinced when you know him. ’T is edification to hear him converse; he professes the noblest sentiments.

Sir Oliver

Oh, plague of his sentiments! If he salutes me with a scrap of morality in his mouth, I shall be sick directly. But, however, don’t mistake me, Sir Peter; I don’t mean to defend Charles’s errors: but, before I form my judgment of either of them, I intend to make a trial of their hearts; and my friend Rowley and I have planned something for the purpose.

Rowley

And Sir Peter shall own° for once he has been mistaken.

Sir Peter

Oh, my life on Joseph’s honour!

Sir Oliver

Well — come, give us a bottle of good wine, and we’ll drink the lads’ health, and tell you our scheme.

Sir Peter

Allons, then!

Sir Oliver

And don’t, Sir Peter, be so severe against your old friend’s son. Odds my life! I am not sorry that he has run out of the course a little: for my part, I hate to see prudence clinging to the green suckers of youth; ’tis like ivy round a sapling, and spoils the growth of the tree.

Exeunt.

Act III

Scene I

A room in Sir Peter Teazle’s house.

Enter Sir Peter Teazle, Sir Oliver Surface, and Rowley.

Sir Peter

Well, then we will see this fellow first, and have our wine afterwards. — But how is this, Master Rowley? I don’t see the jet of your scheme.

Rowley

Why, sir, this Mr. Stanley, whom I was speaking of, is nearly related to them by their mother. He was once a merchant in Dublin, but has been ruined by a series of undeserved misfortunes. He has applied, by letter, both to Mr. Surface and Charles: from the former he has received nothing but evasive promises of future service, while Charles has done all that his extravagence has left him power to do; and he is, at this time, endeavouring to raise a sum of money, part of which, in the midst of his own distresses, I know he intends for the service of poor Stanley.

Sir Oliver

Ah! he is my brother’s son.

Sir Peter

Well, but how is Sir Oliver personally to —

Rowley

Why, sir, I will inform Charles and his brother, that Stanley has obtained permission to apply personally to his friends; and, as they have neither of them ever seen him, let Sir Oliver assume his character, and he will have a fair opportunity of judging, at least, of the benevolence of their dispositions: and believe me, sir, you will find in the youngest brother one who, in the midst of folly and dissipation,° has still as our immortal bard expresses it —

“a heart to pity, and a hand,Open as day, for melting charity.”

Sir Peter

Pshaw! What signifies his having an open hand or purse either, when he has nothing left to give? Well, well — make the trial, if you please. But where is the fellow whom you brought for Sir Oliver to examine, relative to Charles’s affairs?

Rowley

Below, waiting his commands, and no one can give him better intelligence. — This, Sir Oliver, is a friendly Jew, who, to do him justice, has done everything in his power to bring your nephew to a proper sense of his extravagance.

Sir Peter

Pray° let us have him in.

Rowley

Desire Mr. Moses to walk upstairs. Apart to Servant.

Sir Peter

But, pray,° why should you suppose he will speak the truth?

Rowley

Oh, I have convinced him that he has no chance of recovering certain sums advanced to Charles but through the bounty of Sir Oliver, who he knows is arrived; so that you may depend on his fidelity to his own interests. I have also another evidence in my power, one Snake, whom I have detected in a matter little short of forgery, and shall shortly produce to remove some of your prejudices, Sir Peter, relative to Charles and Lady Teazle.

Sir Peter

I have heard too much on that subject.

Rowley

Here comes the honest Israelite. —

Enter Moses.

—This is Sir Oliver.

Sir Oliver

Sir, I understand you have lately had great dealings with my nephew Charles.

Moses

Yes, Sir Oliver, I have done all I could for him; but he was ruined before he came to me for assistance.

Sir Oliver

That was unlucky, truly; for you have had no opportunity of showing your talents.

Moses

None at all; I hadn’t the pleasure of knowing his distresses till he was some thousands worse than nothing.

Sir Oliver

Unfortunate, indeed! — But I suppose you have done all in your power for him, honest Moses?

Moses

Yes, he knows that. — This very evening I was to have brought him a gentleman from the city, who does not know him, and will, I believe, advance him some money.

Sir Peter

What — one Charles has never had money from before?

Moses

Yes, Mr. Premium, of Crutched Friars, formerly a broker.

Sir Peter

Egad, Sir Oliver, a thought strikes me! — Charles, you say, does not know Mr. Premium?

Moses

Not at all.

Sir Peter

Now then, Sir Oliver, you may have a better opportunity of satisfying yourself than by an old romancing tale of a poor relation! go with my friend Moses, and represent Premium, and then, I’ll answer for it, you’ll see your nephew in all his glory.

Sir Oliver

Egad, I like this idea better than the other, and I may visit Joseph afterwards as old Stanley.

Sir Peter

True — so you may.

Rowley

Well, this is taking Charles rather at a disadvantage, to be sure. However, Moses, you understand Sir Peter, and will be faithful?

Moses

You may depend upon me. — Looks at his watch. This is near the time I was to have gone.

Sir Oliver

I’ll accompany you as soon as you please, Moses — But hold! I have forgot one thing — how the plague shall I be able to pass for a Jew?

Moses

There’s no need — the principal is Christian.

Sir Oliver

Is he? I’m very sorry to hear it. But, then again, an’t I rather too smartly dressed to look like a moneylender?

Sir Peter

Not at all: ’t would not be out of character, if you went in your own carriage — would it, Moses?

Moses

Not in the least.

Sir Oliver

Well, but how must I talk? there’s certainly some cant of usury and mode of treating that I ought to know.

Sir Peter

Oh, there’s not much to learn. The great point, as I take it, is to be exorbitant enough in your demands. Hey, Moses?

Moses

Yes, that’s a very great point.

Sir Oliver

I’ll answer for ’t I’ll not be wanting in that. I’ll ask him eight or ten percent on the loan, at least.

Moses

If you ask him no more than that, you’ll be discovered immediately.

Sir Oliver

Hey! — what the plague — how much then?

Moses

That depends upon the circumstances. If he appears not very anxious for the supply, you should require only forty or fifty percent; but if you find him in great distress, and want° the moneys very bad, you may ask double.

Sir Peter

A good honest trade you’re learning, Sir Oliver!

Sir Oliver

Truly, I think so — and not unprofitable.

Moses

Then, you know, you haven’t the moneys yourself, but are forced to borrow them for him of a friend.

Sir Oliver

Oh! I borrow it of a friend, do I?

Moses

And your friend is an unconscionable dog: but you can’t help that.

Sir Oliver

My friend an unconscionable dog, is he?

Moses

Yes, and he himself has not the moneys by him, but is forced to sell stock at a great loss.

Sir Oliver

He is forced to sell stock at a great loss, is he? Well, that’s very kind of him.

Sir Peter

I’faith, Sir Oliver — Mr. Premium, I mean — you’ll soon be master of the trade. But, Moses! would not you have him run out a little against the Annuity Bill? That would be in character, I should think.

Moses

Very much.

Rowley

And lament that a young man now must be at years of discretion before he is suffered° to ruin himself.

Moses

Ay, great pity.

Sir Peter

And abuse the public for allowing° merit to an act whose only object is to snatch misfortune and imprudence from the rapacious grip of usury, and give the minor a chance of inheriting his estate without being undone° by coming into possession.

Sir Oliver

So, so — Moses shall give me farther instructions as we go together.

Sir Peter

You will not have much time, for your nephew lives hard by.

Sir Oliver

Oh, never fear! my tutor appears so able, that though Charles lived in the next street, it must be my own fault if I am not a complete rogue before I turn the corner.

Exit with Moses.

Sir Peter

So, now, I think Sir Oliver will be convinced: you are partial,° Rowley, and would have prepared Charles for the other plot.

Rowley

No, upon my word, Sir Peter.

Sir Peter

Well, go bring me this Snake, and I’ll hear what he has to say presently. — I see Maria, and want to speak with her. —

Exit Rowley.

I should be glad to be convinced my suspicions of Lady Teazle and Charles were unjust. I have never yet opened my mind on this subject to my friend Joseph — I am determined I will do it — he will give me his opinion sincerely.

Enter Maria.

So, child, has Mr. Surface returned with you?

Maria

No, sir; he was engaged.

Sir Peter

Well, Maria, do you not reflect, the more you converse with that amiable young man, what return his partiality° for you deserves?

Maria

Indeed, Sir Peter, your frequent importunity on this subject distresses me extremely — you compel me to declare that I know no man who has ever paid me a particular attention whom I would not prefer to Mr. Surface.

Sir Peter

So — here’s perverseness! — No, no, Maria, ’tis Charles only whom you would prefer. ’T is evident his vices and follies have won your heart.

Maria

This is unkind, sir. You know I have obeyed you in neither seeing nor corresponding with him: I have heard enough to convince me that he is unworthy my regard. Yet I cannot think it culpable, if, while my understanding severely condemns his vices, my heart suggests some pity for his distresses.

Sir Peter

Well, well, pity him as much as you please; but give your heart and hand to a worthier object.

Maria

Never to his brother!

Sir Peter

Go, perverse and obstinate! But take care, madam; you have never yet known what the authority of a guardian is: don’t compel me to inform you of it.

Maria

I can only say you shall not have just reason. ’T is true, by my father’s will, I am for a short period bound to regard you as his substitute; but must cease to think you so, when you would compel me to be miserable.

Exit Maria.

Sir Peter

Was ever man so crossed as I am? everything conspiring to fret me! I had not been involved in matrimony a fortnight, before her father, a hale and hearty man, died, on purpose, I believe, for the pleasure of plaguing me with the care of his daughter. — Lady Teazle sings without. But here comes my helpmate! She appears in great good humour.° How happy I should be if I could tease her into loving me, though but a little!

Enter Lady Teazle.

Lady Teazle

Lud!° Sir Peter, I hope you haven’t been quarrelling with Maria? It is not using me well to be ill-humoured° when I am not by.

Sir Peter

Ah, Lady Teazle, you might have the power to make me good-humoured at all times.

Lady Teazle

I am sure I wish I had; for I want you to be in a charming sweet temper at this moment. Do be good-humoured now, and let me have two hundred pounds, will you?

Sir Peter

Two hundred pounds; what, an’t I to be in a good humour without paying for it! But speak to me thus, and i’ faith there’s nothing I could refuse you. You shall have it; but seal me a bond for the repayment.

Lady Teazle

Oh, no — there — my note of hand will do as well. Offering her hand.

Sir Peter

And you shall no longer reproach me with not giving you an independent settlement. I mean shortly to surprise you: — but shall we always live thus, hey?

Lady Teazle

If you please. I’m sure I don’t care how soon we leave off quarrelling, provided you’ll own° you were tired first.

Sir Peter

Well — then let our future contest be, who shall be most obliging.

Lady Teazle

I assure you, Sir Peter, good nature becomes you. You look now as you did before we were married, when you used to walk with me under the elms, and tell me stories of what a gallant you were in your youth, and chuck me under the chin, you would; and ask me if I thought I could love an old fellow who would deny me nothing — didn’t you?

Sir Peter

Yes, yes, and you were as kind and attentive —

Lady Teazle

Ay, so I was, and would always take your part, when my acquaintance used to abuse you, and turn you into ridicule.

Sir Peter

Indeed!

Lady Teazle

Ay, and when my cousin Sophy has called you a stiff, peevish old bachelor, and laughed at me for thinking of marrying one who might be my father, I have always defended you — and said, I didn’t think you so ugly by any means.

Sir Peter

Thank you.

Lady Teazle

And I dared say you’d make a very good sort of a husband.

Sir Peter

And you prophesied right; and we shall now be the happiest couple —

Lady Teazle

And never differ again?

Sir Peter

No, never! — though at the same time, indeed, my dear Lady Teazle, you must watch your temper very seriously; for in all our little quarrels, my dear, if you recollect, my love, you always began first.

Lady Teazle

I beg your pardon, my dear Sir Peter: indeed you always gave the provocation.

Sir Peter

Now see, my angel! take care — contradicting isn’t the way to keep friends.

Lady Teazle

Then don’t you begin it, my love!

Sir Peter

There, now! you — you are going on. You don’t perceive, my life, that you are just doing the very thing which you know always makes me angry.

Lady Teazle

Nay, you know if you will be angry without any reason, my dear —

Sir Peter

There! now you want to quarrel again.

Lady Teazle

No, I’m sure I don’t: but if you will be so peevish —

Sir Peter

There now! who begins first?

Lady Teazle

Why, you, to be sure. I said nothing — but there’s no bearing your temper.

Sir Peter

No, no, madam: the fault’s in your own temper.

Lady Teazle

Ay, you are just what my cousin Sophy said you would be.

Sir Peter

Your cousin Sophy is a forward, impertinent° gipsy.

Lady Teazle

You are a great bear, I’m sure, to abuse my relations.

Sir Peter

Now may all the plagues of marriage be doubled on me, if ever I try to be friends with you any more!

Lady Teazle

So much the better.

Sir Peter

No, no, madam: ’tis evident you never cared a pin for me, and I was a madman to marry you — a pert, rural coquette, that had refused half the honest ’squires in the neighbourhood!

Lady Teazle

And I am sure I was a fool to marry you — an old dangling bachelor, who was single at fifty, only because he never could meet with anyone who would have him.

Sir Peter

Ay, ay, madam; but you were pleased enough to listen to me: you never had such an offer before.

Lady Teazle

No! didn’t I refuse Sir Tivy Terrier, who everybody said would have been a better match? for his estate is just as good as yours, and he has broke his neck since we have been married.

Sir Peter

I have done with you, madam! You are an unfeeling, ungrateful — but there’s an end of everything. I believe you capable of everything that is bad. Yes, madam, I now believe the reports relative to you and Charles, madam. Yes, madam, you and Charles are — not without grounds —

Lady Teazle

Take care, Sir Peter! you had better not insinuate any such thing! I’ll not be suspected without cause, I promise you.

Sir Peter

Very well, madam! very well! A separate maintenance as soon as you please. Yes, madam, or a divorce! I’ll make an example of myself for the benefit of all old bachelors. Let us separate, madam.

Lady Teazle

Agreed! agreed! And now, my dear Sir Peter, we are of a mind once more, we may be the happiest couple, and never differ again, you know: ha! ha! ha! Well, you are going to be in a passion, I see, and I shall only interrupt you — so, by! by!

Exit.

Sir Peter

Plagues and tortures! Can’t I make her angry either! Oh, I am the most miserable fellow! But I’ll not bear her presuming to keep her temper: no! she may break my heart, but she shan’t keep her temper.

Exit.

Scene II

A room in Charles Surface’s house.

Enter Trip, Moses, and Sir Oliver Surface.

Trip

Here, Master Moses! if you’ll stay a moment, I’ll try whether — what’s the gentleman’s name?

Sir Oliver

Mr. Moses, what is my name? [Aside to Moses.]

Moses

Mr. Premium.

Trip

Premium — Very well.

Exit Trip, taking snuff.

Sir Oliver

To judge by the servants, one wouldn’t believe the master was ruined. But what! — sure, this was my brother’s house?

Moses

Yes, sir; Mr. Charles bought it of Mr. Joseph, with the furniture, pictures, etc., just as the old gentleman left it. Sir Peter thought it a piece of extravagance in him.

Sir Oliver

In my mind, the other’s economy in selling it to him was more reprehensible by half.

Reenter Trip.

Trip

My master says you must wait, gentlemen: he has company, and can’t speak with you yet.

Sir Oliver

If he knew who it was wanted to see him, perhaps he would not send such a message?

Trip

Yes, yes, sir; he knows you are here — I did not forget little Premium: no, no, no.

Sir Oliver

Very well; and I pray,° sir, what may be your name?

Trip

Trip, sir; my name is Trip, at your service.

Sir Oliver

Well, then, Mr. Trip, you have a pleasant sort of place here, I guess?

Trip

Why, yes — here are three or four of us pass our time agreeably enough; but then our wages are sometimes a little in arrear — and not very great either — but fifty pounds a year, and find our own bags and bouquets!

Sir Oliver

Bags and bouquets! halters and bastinadoes. [Aside.]

Trip

And apropos, Moses — have you been able to get me that little bill discounted?

Sir Oliver

Wants to raise money too! — mercy on me! Has his distresses too, I warrant,° like a lord, and affects creditors and duns.° [Aside.]

Moses

’T was not to be done, indeed, Mr. Trip.

Trip

Good lack, you surprise me! My friend Brush has endorsed it, and I thought when he put his name at the back of a bill ’twas the same as cash.

Moses

No, ’t wouldn’t do.

Trip

A small sum — but twenty pounds. Hark’ee, Moses, do you think you couldn’t get it me by way of annuity?

Sir Oliver

An annuity! ha! ha! a footman raise money by way of annuity! Well done, luxury, egad! [Aside.]

Moses

Well, but you must insure your place.

Trip

Oh, with all my heart! I’ll insure my place and my life too, if you please.

Sir Oliver

It is more than I would your neck. [Aside.]

Moses

But is there nothing you could deposit?

Trip

Why, nothing capital of my master’s wardrobe has dropped lately; but I could give you a mortgage on some of his winter clothes, with equity of redemption before November — or you shall have the reversion of the French velvet, or a post-obit on the blue and silver; — these, I should think, Moses, with a few pair of point ruffles, as a collateral security — hey, my little fellow?

Moses

Well, well. Bell rings.

Trip

Egad, I heard the bell! I believe, gentlemen, I can now introduce you. Don’t forget the annuity, little Moses! This way, gentlemen, I’ll insure my place, you know.

Sir Oliver

[Aside.] If the man be a shadow of the master, this is the temple of dissipation° indeed!

Exeunt.

Scene III

Another room in the same.

Charles Surface, Sir Harry Bumper, Careless, and Gentlemen, discovered drinking.

Charles Surface

’Fore heaven, ’tis true! — there’s the great degeneracy of the age. Many of our acquaintance have taste, spirit, and politeness; but, plague on ’t, they won’t drink.

Careless

It is so, indeed, Charles! they give in to all the substantial luxuries of the table, and abstain from nothing but wine and wit. Oh, certainly society suffers by it intolerably! for now, instead of the social spirit of raillery° that used to mantle over a glass of bright Burgundy, their conversation is become just like the Spa-water they drink, which has all the pertness and flatulency of champagne, without its spirit or flavour.

First Gentleman

But what are they to do who love play better than wine?

Careless

True! there’s Sir Harry diets himself for gaining, and is now under a hazard regimen.

Charles Surface

Then he’ll have the worst of it. What! you wouldn’t train a horse for the course by keeping him from corn? For my part, egad, I am never so successful as when I am a little merry: let me throw on a bottle of champagne, and I never lose.

All

Hey, what?

Charles Surface

At least I never feel my losses, which is exactly the same thing.

Second Gentleman

Ay, that I believe.

Charles Surface

And then, what man can pretend to be a believer in love, who is an abjurer of wine? ’T is the test by which the lover knows his own heart. Fill a dozen bumpers to a dozen beauties, and she that floats at the top is the maid that has bewitched you.

Careless

Now then, Charles, be honest, and give us your real favourite.

Charles Surface

Why, I have withheld her only in compassion to you. If I toast her, you must give a round of her peers, which is impossible — on earth.

Careless

Oh! then we’ll find some canonized vestals or heathen goddesses that will do, I warrant!°

Charles Surface

Here then, bumpers, you rogues! bumpers! Maria! Maria! —

Sir Harry

Maria who?

Charles Surface

Oh, damn the surname! — ’tis too formal to be registered in Love’s calendar — Maria!

All

Maria!

Charles Surface

But now, Sir Harry, beware, we must have beauty superlative.

Careless

Nay, never study, Sir Harry: we’ll stand to the toast, though your mistress should want° an eye, and you know you have a song will excuse you.

Sir Harry

Egad, so I have! and I’ll give him the song instead of the lady.

Song

Here’s to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
Here’s to the widow of fifty;
Here’s to the flaunting extravagant quean,
And° here’s to the housewife that’s thrifty.

Chorus. Let the toast pass — Drink to the lass,
I’ll warrant° she’ll prove an excuse for the glass.

Here’s to the charmer whose dimples we prize;
Now to the maid who has none, sir:
Here’s to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And here’s to the nymph with but one, sir.

Chorus. Let the toast pass, etc.

Here’s to the maid with a bosom of snow:
Now to her that’s as brown as a berry,
Here’s to the wife with a face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that’s merry.

Chorus. Let the toast pass, etc.

For let ’em be clumsy, or let ’em be slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a feather;
So fill a pint bumper° quite up to the brim,
So fill up your glasses, nay, fill to the brim,
And let us e’en toast them together.

Chorus. Let the toast pass, etc.

All

Bravo! bravo!

Enter Trip, and whispers Charles Surface.

Charles Surface

Gentlemen, you must excuse me a little — Careless, take the chair, will you?

Careless

Nay, prithee, Charles, what now? This is one of your peerless beauties, I suppose, has dropped in by chance?

Charles Surface

No, faith! To tell you the truth, ’tis a Jew and a broker,° who are come by appointment.

Careless

Oh, damn it! let’s have the Jew in.

First Gentleman

Ay, and the broker too, by all means.

Second Gentleman

Yes, yes, the Jew and the broker.

Charles Surface

Egad, with all my heart! — Trip, bid the gentlemen walk in. —

Exit Trip.

Though there’s one of them a stranger, I can tell you.

Careless

Charles, let us give them some generous Burgundy, and perhaps they’ll grow conscientious.

Charles Surface

Oh, hang ’em, no! wine does but draw forth a man’s natural qualities; and to make them drink would only be to whet their knavery.

Reenter Trip, with Sir Oliver Surface and Moses.

Charles Surface

So, honest Moses; walk in, pray,° Mr. Premium — that’s the gentleman’s name, isn’t it, Moses?

Moses

Yes, sir.

Charles Surface

Set chairs, Trip. — Sit down, Mr. Premium. — Glasses, Trip. —

Gives chairs and glasses, and exit.

Sit down, Moses. — Come, Mr. Premium, I’ll give you a sentiment; here’s Success to usury!° — Moses, fill the gentleman a bumper.

Moses

Success to usury! Drinks.

Careless

Right, Moses — usury is prudence and industry, and deserves to succeed.

Sir Oliver

Then — here’s all the success it deserves! Drinks.

Careless

No, no, that won’t do! Mr. Premium, you have demurred at the toast, and must drink it in a pint bumper.

First Gentleman

A pint bumper, at least.

Moses

Oh, pray,° sir, consider — Mr. Premium’s a gentleman.

Careless

And therefore loves good wine.

Second Gentleman

Give Moses a quart glass — this is mutiny, and a high contempt for the chair.

Careless

Here, now for ’t! I’ll see justice done, to the last drop of my bottle.

Sir Oliver

Nay, pray,° gentlemen — I did not expect this usage.°

Charles Surface

No, hang it, you shan’t; Mr. Premium’s a stranger.

Sir Oliver

Odd! I wish I was well out of their company. [Aside.]

Careless

Plague on ’em! if they won’t drink, we’ll not sit down with them. Come, Harry, the dice are in the next room. — Charles, you’ll join us when you have finished your business with the gentlemen?

Charles Surface

I will! I will! —

Exeunt Sir Harry Bumper and Gentlemen; Careless following.

Careless!

Careless

[Returning.] Well!

Charles Surface

Perhaps I may want you.

Careless

Oh, you know I am always ready: word, note, or bond, ’tis all the same to me. —

Exit.

Moses

Sir, this is Mr. Premium, a gentleman of the strictest honour and secrecy; and always performs what he undertakes. Mr. Premium, this is —

Charles Surface

Pshaw! have done. Sir, my friend Moses is a very honest fellow, but a little slow at expression: he’ll be an hour giving us our titles. Mr. Premium, the plain state of the matter is this: I am an extravagant young fellow who wants to borrow money; you I take to be a prudent old fellow, who have got money to lend. I am blockhead enough to give fifty percent sooner than not have it; and you, I presume, are rogue enough to take a hundred if you can get it. Now, sir, you see we are acquainted at once, and may proceed to business without farther ceremony.

Sir Oliver

Exceeding frank, upon my word. I see, sir, you are not a man of many compliments.

Charles Surface

Oh, no, sir! plain dealing in business I always think best.

Sir Oliver

Sir, I like you the better for it. However, you are mistaken in one thing; I have no money to lend, but I believe I could procure some of a friend; but then he’s an unconscionable dog. Isn’t he, Moses?

Moses

But you can’t help that.

Sir Oliver

And must sell stock to accommodate you. — Mustn’t he, Moses?

Moses

Yes, indeed! You know I always speak the truth, and scorn to tell a lie!

Charles Surface

Right. People that speak truth generally do. But these are trifles, Mr. Premium. What! I know money isn’t to be bought without paying for ’t!

Sir Oliver

Well, but what security could you give? You have no land, I suppose?

Charles Surface

Not a molehill, nor a twig, but what’s in the bough-pots° out of the window!

Sir Oliver

Nor any stock, I presume?

Charles Surface

Nothing but live stock — and that’s only a few pointers and ponies. But pray,° Mr. Premium, are you acquainted at all with any of my connections?°

Sir Oliver

Why, to say truth, I am.

Charles Surface

Then you must know that I have a devilish rich uncle in the East Indies, Sir Oliver Surface, from whom I have the greatest expectations?

Sir Oliver

That you have a wealthy uncle, I have heard; but how your expectations will turn out is more, I believe, than you can tell.

Charles Surface

Oh, no! — there can be no doubt. They tell me I’m a prodigious favourite, and that he talks of leaving me everything.

Sir Oliver

Indeed! this is the first I’ve heard of it.

Charles Surface

Yes, yes, ’tis just so. — Moses knows ’tis true; don’t you, Moses?

Moses

Oh, yes! I’ll swear to ’t.

Sir Oliver

Egad, they’ll persuade me presently I’m at Bengal. [Aside.]

Charles Surface

Now I propose, Mr. Premium, if it’s agreeable to you, a post-obit° on Sir Oliver’s life; though at the same time the old fellow has been so liberal to me, that I give you my word, I should be very sorry to hear that anything had happened to him.

Sir Oliver

Not more than I should, I assure you. But the bond you mention happens to be just the worst security you could offer me — for I might live to a hundred and never see the principal.

Charles Surface

Oh, yes, you would! the moment Sir Oliver dies, you know, you would come on me for the money.

Sir Oliver

Then I believe I should be the most unwelcome dun° you ever had in your life.

Charles Surface

What! I suppose you’re afraid that Sir Oliver is too good a life?

Sir Oliver

No, indeed I am not; though I have heard he is as hale and healthy as any man of his years in Christendom.

Charles Surface

There, again, now you are misinformed. No, no, the climate has hurt him considerably, poor uncle Oliver. Yes, yes, he breaks apace,° I’m told — and is so much altered lately that his nearest relations don’t know him.

Sir Oliver

No! Ha! ha! ha! so much altered lately that his nearest relations don’t know him! Ha! ha! ha! egad — ha! ha! ha!

Charles Surface

Ha! ha! — you’re glad to hear that, little Premium?

Sir Oliver

No, no, I’m not.

Charles Surface

Yes, yes, you are — ha! ha! ha! — you know that mends° your chance.

Sir Oliver

But I’m told Sir Oliver is coming over; nay, some say he is actually arrived.

Charles Surface

Pshaw! sure I must know better than you whether he’s come or not. No, no, rely on ’t he’s at this moment at Calcutta. — Isn’t he, Moses?

Moses

Oh, yes, certainly.

Sir Oliver

Very true, as you say, you must know better than I, though I have it from pretty good authority. — Haven’t I, Moses?

Moses

Yes, most undoubtedly!

Sir Oliver

But, sir, as I understand, you want a few hundreds immediately — is there nothing you could dispose of?

Charles Surface

How do you mean?

Sir Oliver

For instance, now, I have heard that your father left behind him a great quantity of massy old plate.°

Charles Surface

O Lud!° that’s gone long ago. Moses can tell you how better than I can.

Sir Oliver

[Aside.] Good lack! all the family race-cups and corporation-bowls!° [Aloud.] Then it was also supposed that his library was one of the most valuable and compact —

Charles Surface

Yes, yes, so it was — vastly too much so for a private gentleman. For my part, I was always of a communicative disposition, so I thought it a shame to keep so much knowledge to myself.

Sir Oliver

[Aside.] Mercy upon me! learning that had run in the family like an heirloom — [Aloud.] Pray,° what are become of the books?

Charles Surface

You must inquire of the auctioneer, Master Premium, for I don’t believe even Moses can direct you.

Moses

I know nothing of books.

Sir Oliver

So, so, nothing of the family property left, I suppose?

Charles Surface

Not much, indeed; unless you have a mind to the family pictures. I have got a room full of ancestors above; and if you have a taste for old paintings, egad, you shall have ’em a bargain!

Sir Oliver

Hey! what the devil! sure, you wouldn’t sell your forefathers, would you?

Charles Surface

Every man of them, to the best bidder.

Sir Oliver

What, your great-uncles and aunts?

Charles Surface

Ay, and my great-grandfathers and grandmothers too.

Sir Oliver

[Aside.] Now I give him up! — [Aloud.] What the plague, have you no bowels° for your own kindred? Odd’s life! do you take me for Shylock in the play,° that you would raise money of me on your own flesh and blood?

Charles Surface

Nay, my little broker, don’t be angry: what need you care, if you have your money’s worth?

Sir Oliver

Well, I’ll be the purchaser: I think I can dispose of the family canvas. — [Aside.] Oh, I’ll never forgive him this! never!

Reenter Careless.

Careless

Come, Charles, what keeps you?

Charles Surface

I can’t come yet. I’faith, we are going to have a sale above-stairs; here’s little Premium will buy all my ancestors!

Careless

Oh, burn your ancestors!

Charles Surface

No, he may do that afterwards, if he pleases. Stay, Careless, we want you: egad, you shall be auctioneer — so come along with us.

Careless

Oh, have with you, if that’s the case. I can handle a hammer as well as a dice-box! Going! going!

Sir Oliver

Oh, the profligates!° [Aside.]

Charles Surface

Come, Moses, you shall be appraiser, if we want° one. Gad’s life, little Premium, you don’t seem to like the business?

Sir Oliver

Oh, yes, I do, vastly! Ha! ha! ha! yes, yes, I think it a rare joke to sell one’s family by auction — ha! ha! — [Aside.] Oh, the prodigal!

Charles Surface

To be sure! when a man wants money, where the plague should he get assistance, if he can’t make free with his own relations?

Sir Oliver

I’ll never forgive him; never! never!

Exeunt.

Act IV

Scene I

A picture room in Charles Surface’s house

Enter Charles Surface, Sir Oliver Surface, Moses, and Careless.

Charles Surface

Walk in, gentlemen, pray° walk in; — here they are, the family of the Surfaces, up to the Conquest.°

Sir Oliver

And, in my opinion, a goodly collection.

Charles Surface

Ay, ay, these are done in the true spirit of portrait-painting; no volontière grace or expression. Not like the works of your modern Raphaels, who give you the strongest resemblance, yet contrive to make your portrait independent of you; so that you may sink the original and not hurt the picture. — No, no; the merit of these is the inveterate likeness — all stiff and awkward as the originals, and like nothing in human nature besides.

Sir Oliver

Ah! we shall never see such figures of men again.

Charles Surface

I hope not. — Well, you see, Master Premium, what a domestic character I am; here I sit of an evening surrounded by my family. — But come, get to your pulpit, Mr. Auctioneer; here’s an old gouty chair of my grandfather’s will answer the purpose.

Careless

Ay, ay, this will do. — But, Charles, I haven’t a hammer; and what’s an auctioneer without his hammer?

Charles Surface

Egad, that’s true. What parchment have we here? Oh, our genealogy in full. Taking pedigree down. Here, Careless, you shall have no common bit of mahogany, here’s the family tree for you, you rogue! This shall be your hammer, and now you may knock down my ancestors with their own pedigree.

Sir Oliver

What an unnatural rogue! — an ex post facto° parricide!° [Aside.]

Careless

Yes, yes, here’s a list of your generation indeed; — faith, Charles, this is the most convenient thing you could have found for the business, for ’t will not only serve as a hammer, but a catalogue into the bargain. Come, begin — A-going, a-going, a-going!

Charles Surface

Bravo, Careless! Well, here’s my great-uncle, Sir Richard Raveline, a marvellous good general in his day, I assure you. He served in all the Duke of Marlborough’s wars, and got that cut over his eye at the battle of Malplaquet. What say you, Mr. Premium? look at him — there’s a hero! not cut out of his feathers, as your modern clipped captains are, but enveloped in wig and regimentals, as a general should be. — What do you bid?

Sir Oliver

[Aside to Moses.] Bid him speak.

Moses

Mr. Premium would have you speak.

Charles Surface

Why, then, he shall have him for ten pounds, and I’m sure that’s not dear for a staff-officer.

Sir Oliver

[Aside.] Heaven deliver me! his famous uncle Richard for ten pounds! — [Aloud.] Very well, sir, I take him at that.

Charles Surface

Careless, knock down my uncle Richard. — Here, now, is a maiden sister of his, my great-aunt Deborah, done by Kneller, thought to be in his best manner, and a very formidable likeness. There she is, you see, a shepherdess feeding her flock. You shall have her for five pounds ten° — the sheep are worth the money.

Sir Oliver

[Aside.] Ah! poor Deborah! a woman who set such a value on herself! — [Aloud.] Five pounds ten — she’s mine.

Charles Surface

Knock down my aunt Deborah! — Here, now, are two that were a sort of cousins of theirs. — You see, Moses, these pictures were done some time ago, when beaux° wore wigs, and the ladies their own hair.

Sir Oliver

Yes, truly, headdresses appear to have been a little lower in those days.

Charles Surface

Well, take that couple for the same.

Moses

’T is a good bargain.

Charles Surface

Careless! — This, now, is a grandfather of my mother’s, a learned judge, well known on the western circuit. — What do you rate him at, Moses?

Moses

Four guineas.

Charles Surface

Four guineas! Gad’s life, you don’t bid me the price of his wig. — Mr. Premium, you have more respect for the woolsack;° do let us knock his lordship down at fifteen.

Sir Oliver

By all means.

Careless

Gone!

Charles Surface

And there are two brothers of his, William and Walter Blunt, Esquires, both members of parliament, and noted speakers; and, what’s very extraordinary, I believe, this is the first time they were ever bought or sold.

Sir Oliver

That is very extraordinary, indeed! I’ll take them at your own price, for the honour of parliament.

Careless

Well said, little Premium! — I’ll knock them down at forty.

Charles Surface

Here’s a jolly fellow — I don’t know what relation, but he was mayor of Manchester: take him at eight pounds.

Sir Oliver

No, no; six will do for the mayor.

Charles Surface

Come, make it guineas,° and I’ll throw you the two aldermen there into the bargain.

Sir Oliver

They’re mine.

Charles Surface

Careless, knock down the mayor and aldermen. — But, plague on ’t! we shall be all day retailing in this manner: do let us deal wholesale; what say you, little Premium? Give me three hundred pounds for the rest of the family in the lump.

Careless