LOCK AND KEY: A
MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT,
IN TWO ACTS, As performed at the THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN.
BY
PRINCE HOARE, Esq.
AUTHOR OF MY GRANDMOTHER—NO SONG NO SUPPER—THE PRIZE, &c.
CORRECTLY TAKEN FROM THE PROMPT-BOOK.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. N. LONGMAN, PATERNOSTER-ROW
1796. [Price One Shilling.]
CHARACTERS.
BRUMMAGEM
Mr. MUNDEN.
CHEERLY (an Officer in the Navy
Mr. INCLEDON.
CAPTAIN VAIN (an Egotist)
Mr. KNIGHT.
RALPH (Brummagem's Servant)
Mr. FAWCETT.
LAURA (Niece to Brummagem)
Mrs. SERRES.
Mrs. MOUNTAIN
FANNY (Maid to Laura)
Mrs. MARTYR.
SELINA (an upper Servant)
Mrs. PLATT.
DOLLY (a Country Housemaid)
Mrs. NORTON.
SCENE.
A Town in Devonshire.
LOCK AND KEY: A
MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A View of
BRUMMAGEM'S
House and Garden.
Enter
CHEERLY,
walking to and fro', and looking up earnestly at a window of Brummagem's house.
LAURA has not appeared at the window yesterday or to-day, and my word is passed not to call at the house till she sends to me—yet I cannot get under weigh till she bids me farewell. Oh, confound it! here's Captain Vain. What damn'd shift of wind made him bring up on this coast? Now will this conceited fellow bother me for an hour or two about himself.
(
Going.
)
Enter
VAIN.
I
see you, Cheerly. You can't hide yourself from
me.
I'm one who see every thing in a moment. You have heard what has happened to
me
since
I
went?
No, faith, I have not.
The most extraordinary thing. Always something surprizing wherever
I
go. For my part
I
really think as to
myself,
that—But what are you at, Cheerly? What! attempting to spy into your neighbour's cabin! Just like
me,
egad! I've done that often in my time, tho' it's hardly fair play, between you and
I.
Vain, you know a seaman cannot act unfairly; here is a little frigate in this harbour, of which I wou'd fain take the command honorably; but her old uncle thinks me too poor to hold the commission.
Exactly
me
again. Egad! I had best give a little thought to your case
myself.
I have told you where my anchor lies. Can you lend me a hand to purchase it?
Can I? I don't like to praise myself; but I am such a devilish clever fellow; it is quite astonishing—I never turn my head to a project but it succeeds—Any thing, every thing—never miss—I'am so clever.
I'll
tell you—What will you give me for releasing this tender, consenting girl from old Brummagem's clutches, and throwing her into your arms?
Give you!
Ay; what premium will you allow me on her fortune?
This is not a seaman's language—I don't understand you.
Why, look you, Cheerly, I love adventures—I have a genius for them, and such a head at them, it's astonishing. But as this is a time of the world when a man is counted an ass if he be not paid for every thing he does, I undertake them no longer as an amateur—I have done with that—but demand my fee regularly as a professor.
Indeed!
I have adventured myself, in the service of others, into easy circumstances and genteel acquaintance: and if you will give me a hundred pounds, of which I happen to be just now damnably in want—
Hold, Vain—That's not quite so clever,—is it?
No; but that's so common a case with a genius—In short, if you are inclined to pay,
I'll
put you in possession of your Dulcinea.
Eh, but how? How will you carry your warps out, Master Vain?
You must not ask that.—There lies my genius—I must manage it all myself—a genius must not be meddled with.
Well, but do you know old Brummagem?
Know him! a fellow full of lies and ignorance, who values you only for the number of quarters in your scutcheon, tells you long stories of tables and chairs having been in his family for a hundred years, which, in reality, he bought secondhand yesterday. It will be an absolute charity in you to deliver a poor girl from such a curmudgeon. And since you have engaged me in your service, you have nothing to fear. I'm sure to succeed. I wont praise myself,—but I'm so astonishingly clever—
[Exit.
I must at all events rescue this lovely girl. To lend a helping hand to those who are distress, is the character of our country, and British seamen have ever set the example.
SONG.
AIR.
When Britain, on the foaming, main,
Her native reign,
Bids her sons their rights declare,
Soon as her fires have taught the foe
Again to know
Who their dauntless conqu'rors are,
The sailor's bosom swells with joy:
Beyond the glory to destroy,
He feels the power to save;
And, conqu'ring, views a foe no more
In him who sought his life before,
But lifts him from the wave.
Tho' seas are rolling mountains high,
Our boats we ply:
'Tis a fellow-creature falls!
See him raise his hands in fear,
And, wond'ring, hear
The cheering voice that life recalls.
The sailor's bosom, &c.
[Exit.
SCENE II.
A Library with Globes, large Maps, &c.
RALPH
standing with a stick over his shoulder, as guarding them.
SELINA
and
DOLLY
enter with brooms.
Come along, Dolly—Clean away.
How queer that man looks with his cudgel over his shoulder!
That's Mr. Humoursome. He is always to be on guard while the maids are in the room. Dust away!
Ah, you are like the rest. Women are always making a dust in one part of the house or the other—Get out.
(
drives them off.
)
My master is a sad old hunks, to be sure. He hates the plain truth as I do physic, while he will swallow, chew, and digest a parcel of bouncing fibs by the hundred, as a man wou'd count walnuts. His house is like the fine speeches of fine gentry, all conterfeit; and the furniture in it would serve for the scenery of a harlequin farce; it tumbles to pieces the moment it is touched. But then these women prate so—Now they've hatched up a story about an iron cage—Shut up his niece indeed! What do they take him for? I do so hate women—I hate them all except my young mistress, because we were fostered together—I can't be expected to hate her—But I hate Selina, and I hate Dolly, tho' I never saw her before; and I hate—No, I don't hate Fanny—I wish I could—Well I think she'll have me: and when we're married, I dare say I shall hate her; for I know she will use me like a dog; but I cannot hate her for all that. Oh, Lord! here she comes! but I won't speak to her.
(
takes a chair, sits down, and, as Fanny enters, turns from her
)
Enter
FANNY.
What's the matter, Ralph?
I am thinking.
And, pray, what are you thinking of?
You.
I am much obliged to you; but you had better by half think of our young mistress, who will be brought back presently to be shut up in an iron cage.
So! they are all in the same story.
'Tis a shame.
How can you talk such nonsense? What does my master want to force her to?
Marriage.
That wou'd be out of one cage into another.
Cannot we contrive to help her, Ralph? You know she cannot love a strange man whom she has never seen. Why don't you answer?
I am thinking—what I can do, not to love
you.
Psha! do not be nonsensical. Don't you see what an excellent match Captain Cheerly will be for Miss Laura? A brave sailor who fights for his country, and whom she would marry for love! Why do not you answer again?
I am thinking—that, if you and I should be married for love, we might chance to fight for victuals.
Aye, but we'll be married for all that.
Shall we?
Yes; and you shall be so smart, you shall look like a captain. You know, as my young mistress's husband is an officer in the navy, when you and I marry, you may wear a cockade in your hat as well as any captain of them all.
Wear a cockade! I am thinking, if you and I marry,
(
puts his hand to his forehead
)
if I shall be able to wear a hat. No, I'll never marry, I'm determin'd. I'll leave service rather than be made a fool of by the women.
I tell you we will be married.
And I tell you we won't—And I'll tell you why we won't.
Nay, but I declare—
Do but listen to me. That little tongue of yours—
Listen! Why, Lord bless me—
Will you hear me only for one minute?
Yes; but then you shall hear me for a minute afterwards.
Well, so I will. That's fair.
Well—now I'm ready to listen.
Without speaking.
I give you leave to say just what you like.
Oh, leave me alone for that.
You need not fear my interrupting you, I give you my word.
Well, that's all I want.
I'll keep my word too when I've once said so.
Well, well, I believe that.
Now—I'm dumb.
That's best.
Mum! I won't open my mouth to draw my breath. Only remember—you shan't say I don't give you a fair hearing.
But you are talking now.
Nay that's monstrous, when you have been talking all this while.
I? why I am sure I have not spoke yet.
I am sure you have: and you must have talked your minute out by this time. That you have, at least; and now it's my turn.
Now, did any one ever hear such a—
Nay, I protest I will have my minute now.
Why I have not begun mine.
Keep to your bargain.
Oh! a plague of—
Nay, if you run on at this rate, I'm resolved I won't stay to hear you. I won't come near you again till you have learnt to hold your tongue as I do.
[Exit Fanny.]
Oh! a plague of these women! They are just like—
AIR.
A woman is like to—but stay,
What a woman is like, who can say?
There's no living with, or without one.
Love bites, like a fly,
Now an ear, now an eye,
Buz, buz, always buzzing about one.
When she's tender and kind,
She is like, to my mind,
(And Fanny was so, I remember.)
She is like to—O dear!
She's as good very near
As a ripe melting peach in September.
If she laugh, and she chat,
Play, joke, and all that,
And with smiles and good humour she meet me,
She is like a rich dish
Of ven'son or sish,
That cries from the table, "Come eat me:"
But she'll plague you, and vex you,
Distract and perplex you;
False-hearted and ranging,
Unsettled and changing,—
What then do you think she is like?
Like a sand! Like a rock!
Like a wheel! Like a clock!
Aye, a clock that is always at strike.
Her head's like the island, folks tell on,
Which nothing but monkies can dwell on;
Her heart's like a lemon, so nice,
She carves for each lover a slice:
In truth, she's to me
Like the wind, like the sea,
Whose raging will hearken to no man.
Like a mill,
Like a pill,
Like a flail,
Like a whale,
Like an ass,
Like a glass,
Whose image is constant to no man:
Like a flower,
Like a shower,
Like a fly,
Like a pye,
Like a pea,
Like a flea,
Like a thief,
Like—in brief,
She's like nothing on earth—but a woman.
[Exit.]
SCENE III.
An Apartment at
BRUMMAGEM'S.
Enter
FANNY.
So, there they go—I hear him lock her in. Well, if I had been miss Laura, I wou'd have run at once to captain Cheerly.
(
affectedly
)
It's a thousand pities she's troubled with so many delicacies—I wish Ralph was half as well inclined to me—I give him good plain hints, tho' I cannot say they have hitherto been of any service.
AIR.
E'er since I found true-love beginning
And thought his hand was worth the winning,
I call'd each little artful aid in,
To spare the question from a maiden:
To wake or show
When ask'd to go,
I still denied
All lads beside,
And pray'd of Ralph to carry me;
It seem'd so pat,
In tender chat,
To whisper, "Fanny, will you marry me?"
In ev'ning fine, and summer weather,
When o'er the fields we walk'd together,
Tho' I can trip it like a fairy,
I've oft pretended to be weary;
Then leaning on his arm awhile,
I slily ask'd him with a smile,
"I'm tir'd, Ralph, will you carry me?"
But on the way
He ne'er wou'd stay
To whisper, "Fanny, will you marry me?"
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
A Room, with a Table cover'd with Papers, Pen, and Ink; in the back Scene, a Door of an inner Apartment, a Window that looks into the Street.
BRUMMAGEM
locking the door, puts the key in his girdle.
There! I think that settles the business. The keys are pretty safe by my side, and the door is pretty strong—I am still so afraid of that young sailor, that I'll set Ralph to watch. Here, Ralph!
Enter
RALPH.
Sir!
My good Ralph, you're very honest; and you know I'm very kind to you.
Yes, sir; you're always telling me so—
Ralph, I put you in charge of this room in my absence—Don't let any one come near that door: and if the maids come to touch any thing, drive them out.
(going)
Never fear, sir—I'll be a match for any maid in Christendom.
And hark ye, Ralph!
Yes, sir,
If sir Andrew M'Gorget should happen to come during my absence—
I'll drive him away, never fear—he shan't go near the door.
Psha! you blockhead! you must let him come, and tell him I am only gone to enquire news of him at the inn. Be sure you don't let the maids in. I had rather turn a tiger loose into my cabinet than a woman, and should be less alarmed at the roaring of the one, than the chattering of the other.
[Exit.
I thought it was so! He has brought home some great curiosity; the iron-grating was to keep off the mops and broomsticks, and this outer door to keep the dust off.
(
tries to look into the inner apartment
)
I cannot get a peep any where. What am I to do by myself here?
(
sits down at the table
)
Here's nothing to be done.
(
takes up a book
)
I have no great pleasure in reading—No—or writing—No—Eating? Yes, I cou'd divert myself by eating a bit of something, if—
(
feels in his pocket, and pulls out an apple
)
Eh! comes just in time.
(
eats the apple
)
And now I think of it, I have a good mind to write a farewell letter to Fanny, that gypsey— Let's see—Yes, I'll send her a line.
(sits down, takes pen and ink, and begins to write
)
Ah me!
O Lord! what's that? Here's something alive in the room—Some curious wild beast, perhaps a phoenix or crocodile—
(
sits down again, and having finished his first apple, begins another, which proves a bad one
)
A few lines— A long letter is worse than—Pa! a rotten apple—Pha!
(
rises, and flings the rotten apple out at the window; then sits down again to write
)
forced to leave you—love you—
(
a noise within the scenes
)
But I say I will—Am I to have my eyes knocked out with apples?
O Lord! I have hit some one in the eye with that apple—What an unlucky dog I am! I had better get out of his way.
[Exit.
Enter
CHEERLY,
holding his handker chief to his eye,
VAIN
following.
Hear what
I
tell you—If you make this disturbance, I shall lose all chance of success.
I shall lose my sight. I'll search the house over till I find the old man, who shall either beg my pardon, or fight me, or give me his niece; and perhaps he'll chuse the last.
[Exit.
Egad he may, and then I lose my hundred pounds. I don't know how it is: I cannot hit on a project to-day. If I could see Selina, we might contrive something—Genius is so whimsical that I believe money frightens it away.
Cheerly!
Hark!
Cheerly!
That must be Laura—I'll pass for Cheerly.
(
goes to the door and counterfeits Cheerly's voice
)
My dear Laura, is it you?
Are you alone?
Here is none but my very clever friend, Captain Vain, with me. You may speak freely.
My uncle has shut me up in this room, 'till I consent to marry sir Andrew M'Gorget.
Sir Andrew M'Gorget! What! he that has been in Spain these sixteen years, and has made a great fortune there? Is he come home?
No; but he is expected every hour.
I have it—There's my genius again—I see it directly—
(
in Cheerly's voice)
Good bye, Laura! I'll take care of you.
(
leaves the door
)
I don't like to praise myself: but I am so astonishingly clever—Let me see—Selina can furnish me with a dress—I have it—I'll order a coach to be ready to carry her off at a minute's warning. What a blessing to be such a clever fellow!
[Exit.
O Lud! O Lud! it is miss Laura, sure enough, shut up in that room. Egad, if I had happen'd to be in the way when that angry captain came in with his one eye, I might have stood a chance of a couple of black ones.
(
looks out
)
Yonder's my cruel master—Now I shall hate him. I won't own a word of captain Cheerly having been here. If he asks any questions, I must fob him off with half a score bouncing stories in his own way—I don't care what I say to him now. That he shou'd be such a hard-hearted, cruel, abominable—
Enter
BRUMMAGEM.
Who were those fellows I saw lurking about? Has there been any one here?
Not a soul, sir—I must have seen them, if they had been here, sir.
You have not seen or heard any one?
Only poor miss Laura, who has been crying there, sir.
Ah, that's nothing—Girls love to shed tears.
I believe I love to shed tears too—I cannot help it when I think of poor miss Laura, my own foster-sister, shut up—in a cage like a—like a wild beast. Don't you, pray, master, don't you use her so hardly—she has not deserved it, I am sure.
(falls on his kness)
Stand up, stand up, lad—The women have been persuading you.
Your honor knows it is not for that; but it is so piteous to hear a poor Christian creature sing in a cage like a great bird.
Well, well, Ralph, leave all that to me—You may go.
Yes, sir—But don't be so cruel to my young mistress.
Well, well.
Don't now, pray, sir—Indeed she don't deserve it—She don't indeed!
Leave that to me, I say. There, get you gone.
[Exit Ralph.
So, this goes well! M'Gorget is on his passage; his steward is every moment expected to meet him with the accounts of his estates. They must be rarely improved in sixteen years' nursing. I may now venture to give my prisoner a little air.
DUET.—BRUMMAGEM
and
LAURA.
When left to themselves,
Girls are mischievous elves:
There's no mortal can guess where they'll be,
While they're out of your view:
Wou'd you know what they do,
You must trust to a Lock and a Key.
(
Unlocks the door of the inner apartment, and discovers, through an iron grating,
LAURA
sitting, and leaning pensively on her arm.
By these my tears, by these my sighs,
Believe how truly I implore:
At length let tender pity rise,
At length a guardian's love restore.
Hence from me, baggage, I'll hear you no more.
Duty alone can affection restore.
Believe how truly I implore.
Go, go. I'll never hear you more.
No, no, miss: you are best where you are, till your husband comes; and now listen to the account you are to give of yourself and family to sir Andrew, when he arrives. I can invent a story to my own credit, with any man in Christendom: but the devil of it is, I have a short memory, and cannot remember it when I have made it. Let's see—
(
reads
)
Your family is descended from the Brummys, who came over with the Conqueror—your great grandfather was an ecclesiastic in the reign of Anne
—He was sexton to the parish of Hounslow. Remember I bury the sexton. Then, when you speak of the gold candlesticks, remember the duke of Montault made them a present to my uncle.
(
aside
)
They have been pretty often presented to
my uncle
A vulgar appellation given to a pawnbroker.
I warrant.
Enter
RALPH.
Sir, here's some one. Oh, poor miss Laura!
Some one! Eh, where?
Some one below stairs, where you—But you shall not keep her there, old one—
(
aside
)
where you were enquiring for sir Andrew and his steward.
I'll be with them directly. Rare news, my girl! He's come, I dare say. Out of the room, sirrah! and don't let me catch you here at my return.
[Ralph goes towards the grate; Brum. drives him off, and exit.
Barbarous uncle! How do you abuse the trust reposed in you by my poor fond parents!
FINALE.
Enter
RALPH.
Hist! Hist! All is safe: you may venture in now,
For my master's engag'd with a stranger below.
Enter
FANNY.
Now, now's the moment—nothing fear:
One who loves you, waits you here.
[Exeunt.
Enter
CHEERLY. (
goes to grate.
)
For moments to view thee,
The transport possessing,
The foes that pursue thee
I value no more.
Thy faith while possessing,
This prison's a blessing:
When constant I view thee,
All danger is o'er.
Thus hope's fond illusion
These moments endearing,
In absence still chearing,
Our bosoms shall own.
Her flame ever lighting,
Till duty, till pleasure,
Till love beyond measure,
Uniting, requiting,
Our constancy crown.
Enter
FANNY.
Hush! Hush! Away! Away! Begone!
My master's coming—We're undone.
Sure I heard this day a humming!
Fasten every door below.
Hark! I hear old square-toes coming!
Out the candles quickly blow.
Hark! I hear old square toes coming!
Which way, which way shall I go?
This way, this way, you may go,
We'll remain while you're retreating:
At the worst we fear a beating,
If he chance the truth to know.
Enter
BRUMMAGEM. (
servants behind
)
What the devil's here a doing?
Not of light a single spark!
Mischief here is surely brewing,
While I'm blund'ring in the dark.
Some one near me
Seems to hear me:
Ears are false, or—
Did you call, sir?
Quickly answer!
'Tis your man, sir.
If the captain be detected,
We shall surely be suspected.
Varlets, you deceive your master.
We shall pay for this disaster.
Now the knaves I shall discover.
I suspect I've caught the lover.
(meets Cheerly and holds him)
I'm afraid the captain's caugh.
Guilty we shall all be thought.
Ring the larum, bring a light here.
(Ralph slips between Cheerly and Brummagem)
Then, sir, hold me not so tight here.
Is it you? I'm strangely puzzled.
If the mastiff be unmuzzled,
By his barking hell betray
Captain Cheerly on his way.
At the door I'll slily stay.
Cupid, now protect the lover,
Guide him safely on his way!
O'er his steps propitious hover!
Here's a broomstick in my way.
Clear I see some trick is playing,
All my servants me betraying,—
I'll severely trounce you all.
'Sblood and thunder!
What's the wonder?
We are ready
Here to aid you.
We came running at your call—
All betraying,
None obeying.
We are ready,
Here to aid ye,
Tho' we now your anger meet.
Still the lover's flight concealing—
All denying, nought revealing—
This
good
ill
fortune to complete.
[Exeunt.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Apartment in
BRUMMAGEM'S
House.
Enter
FANNY,
with a letter in her hand.
The deuce take that door and the iron grating! I must even give the note again to Selina.
Enter
RALPH,
with breakfast things on a waiter— seeing Fanny, he turns back.
Hark ye, Ralph! will you take a letter for me into miss Laura's room with her breakfast?
No.
Will you carry a message into the room to her?
No.
And why not, you ill-natured creature?
I am not ill-natured—I have a reason.
And pray, what is it?
Because I'm not going into the room, and nobody is going into the room but my master himself.
Then now I'm sure he means to starve her. Cou'd not we contrive to make him carry this note himself?
(
observing the tea-things
)
Psha! Psha! Impossible! Observe, I don't advise you to fold the note smaller, and put it under the tea-pot.
Oh, there's a dear Ralph.
(
folding the note smaller, and placing it under the teapot
)
Away! here is my master.
[Fanny runs off.
Enter
BRUMMAGEM.
When my master places such a confidence in me as to send me into the room—
Oh! I shall not do that neither. Give me the waiter.
Sha'n't I take it in, sir?
You want to take in your master, knave.
(
takes the breakfast things
)
Watch that no one comes into the house while I am here.
[Exit.
No—but I'll let somebody out of the house while you are here. I'm determined—I must set her free—it breaks my heart. The old one is a little near-sighted, and can't see without spectacles, and is not very quick of hearing—I think I know a trick that wou'd do it. I must make some amends to captain Cheerly for knocking his eye out; but the worst of it is, I can't do without the women.
Enter
FANNY. (
behind him
)
Do, my dear Ralph,—there is a good creature.
There is never mischief a-foot, but a woman pops her head in—It is like raising the devil by talking of sin. Is it honest, Fanny, to impose on one's master?
Honest! Can he expect honesty, who sets so bad an example to his own family? Do you think it is honest to shut up a poor girl, and force her either to starve or marry?
Indeed I don't know which is worse. Away then with me, Fanny, down stairs, and I'll tell you all about it. We'll see our young mistress married and merry, and then we'll be married ourselves. I see there is no helping it—It is what we must all come to.
DUET.—RALPH
and
FANNY.
Hey! dance to the fiddle and tabor,
And none shall have reason to laugh at his neighbour,
Our wedding shall follow soon after.
Fal de ral, lal de ral, la!
Wits and philosophers,
Scholars and conjurors,
Statesmen and ministers,
Judges and counsellors,
Doctors and barristers,
Bishops and chancellors,
Great dukes and emperors,
Mitred and crown'd,
All have danc'd to the fiddle and tabor,
Hey! dance to the fiddle and tabor,
Fal de ral, lal de ral, la!
Welcome each lass, and shake hands with each neighbour.
How little care I for their laughter,
Fal de ral, lal de ral, lal!
Sunday and holiday,
Working and wearing day,
Feasting and jolly day,
Singing the merry day,
Rainy or fair the day,
Never know care a day.
Happy we'll ev'ry day live the year round,
Dancing oft to the fiddle and tabor,
Fal de ral, lal de ral, la!
I'm master, and rule house and table.
I'm mistress, and you may rule me if you're able.
Who master,
Who mistress,
We'll settle soon after.
But now we'll sing, fal de ral, la!
I'll make you jealous, and romp with the petticoats.
I'll kiss the fellows, and flirt with the pretty coats.
I'll not submit to it,
Yes, you'll submit to it,
Spite of your wit,
To it.
I'll keep my ground.
Fal lal de ral, lal de ral!
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. LAURA'S
Apartment—The iron Grate seen before the Door.
BRUMMAGEM
and
LAURA at
breakfast-table.
Taste this tea, my dear—it was a present from the reigning emperor of China to an officer who attended our last embassy.
Indeed, sir, I cannot touch a drop—Your severity to me breaks my heart.
None of these airs! What will your looks be come to by the time your husband, sir Andrew, arrives? You are as white as paper already—Come, eat a little bit, and I'll give you some of the finest rouge from Paris: and you shall tell sir Andrew, it is all a natural bloom got by walking in the park.
Do you think, sir, I can debase myself to utter such falsehoods? The obedience I owe to the authority invested in you by my parents, may require the sacrifice of my will, but not of my veracity.
Psha! Psha! these are only little poetical embellishments. M'Gorget will never suspect you hate him: and you know, when you are once lady M'Gorget, it is all safe and well. Come now, my deary, eat
(
offers the plate, she refuses
)
Nay, nay, come then, some tea first
(
lifts up the tea pot, and discovers the note
)—(
rises and comes forward
)
Eh! Oh ho! Oh, you little devil! This is your want of appetite? You wanted me out of the room— You cou'dn't eat—I warrant you cou'd have eat me for staying so long.
Dear sir, that's—that's nothing but a paper to keep the heat from spoiling the teaboard —Nothing else.
Spoiling the tea-board! Yes, yes, we'll see that.
(
reads
)
Captain Vain has promised to bring you to me within the course of the day— he wou'dn't communicate his scheme, but says he is certain he can contrive it. Be prepared to assist him, and to give your hand to
—I have a mind to put irons on your hands, and to fasten you to the ground, if it wou'dn't hurt their colour. That varlet, Ralph, must have had a hand in this; but I'll after him, and turn him out of doors in a minute.
[Exit.
What scheme can Vain have contrived? Be what it may, I will be prepared to assist it, since my guardian's cruelty leaves me no other hope of happiness.
AIR.
Could I bid the fond passion to cease,
Which so long ev'ry thought has employ'd,
Or cou'd moments restore the soft peace,
Which the anguish of hours has destroy'd,
From my love I wou'd chearfully, chearfully part:
But alas! it lies deep—Ah! deep in my heart.
SCENE—The street before BRUMMAGEM's House.
Enter
CHEERLY
with Sailors.
Come, come along, my lads! heave ahead. Three cheers under my mistress's window, and then away.
(
Sailors appear dissatisfied with Cheerly.
)
What! slack in stays! Why, do you think Cheerly prefers his mistress to his duty? No, no, my lads! My country;s service—you rewarded, —and then my love. Ah! cou'd but my dear little girl and I be lash'd alongside each other before we part I shou'd be content. Vain has engaged that I shall have her; but as he will not tell me his scheme, his conceit makes him unfit to be relied on. But hope is the string that rides a sailor's heart—So, heave a-head, my lads—One farewell at the window, and if the wind comes about a point to-morrow, we'll weigh, and then for Arethusa's glory.
AIR.
Come, all ye jolly sailors bold,
Whose hearts are cast in honor's mould,
While English glory I unfold,
Huzza to the Arethusa!
She is a frigate tight and brave,
As ever stemm'd the dashing wave.
Her men are staunch
To their favorite launch;
And when the foe shall meet our fire,
Sooner than strike, we'll all expire
On board of the Arethusa.
'Twas with the spring fleet she went out,
The English Channel to cruise about,
When four French sail in shew so stout
Bore down on the Arethusa.
The fam'd Belle Poule straight a head did lie;
The Arethusa seem'd to fly:
Not a sheet or a tack,
Or a brace did she slack,
Tho' the Frenchmen laugh'd, and thought it stuff:
But the knew not the handful of men how tough
On board of the Arethusa.
On deck five hundred men did dance,
The stoutest they could find in France:
We with two hundred did advance
On board of the Arethusa.
Our captain hail'd the Frenchman, "Ho!"
The Frenchman then cried out "Hallo!"—
"Bear down, d'ye see,
"To our admiral's lee."
"No, no," says the Frenchman, "that can't be."—
"Then I must lug you along with me,"
Says the saucy Arethusa.
The fight was off the Frenchman's land.
We forc'd them back upon their strand;
For we fought till not a stick wou'd stand
Of the gallant Arethusa.
And now we've driven the foe ashore,
Never to fight with Britons more,
Let each fill a glass
To his favorite lass:
A health to our captain, and officers true,
And all that belong to the jovial crew
On board of the Arethusa.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Apartment, with the Door that covers the Iron grating.
BRUMMAGEM
alone.
I'm glad I've got rid of that simpleton, Ralph. He was a good servant enough while his mouth was shut; but he never opened it, except to eat or to speak the truth,—two abominable qualities.—I shall do better without him—I could never have taught him to tell a lie with a good grace: and that's all in all.
Enter
FANNY.
Well, is Ralph gone out of the house?
Yes, sir; he went directly. There is a person who says he is a steward to Mr. Morget or Gorget, or some such name.
How little she knows of a grandee! M'Gorget, you blockhead.—Shew the steward up.
[Exit Fanny.
That's lucky enough. Now I can tell the steward a few anecdotes to serve my own ends, and perhaps make friends of him before his master arrives. What airs he gives himself on the stairs! He seems confoundedly important—damn'd proud! O, that's a good sign—He is rich as Croesus, I dare say.
Enter
RALPH
in a large wig, drest as a Steward.
Your servant, sir.
Sir, your most obedient, most devoted, most obsequious servant.
They told me you had been at the inn to ask for me—My lord, sir Andrew, I hear, intends to make a gentlewoman of your niece.
I hope, sir, he will find she is the daughter of a gentleman.
Oh yes, they told me you were a gentleman's family—Brummagem, I believe.
Yes, sir, my name is Brummagem— How saucy these rich fellows are! Yes, sir. My friend, M'Gorget—I'll be a little familiar too.
Sir Andrew M'Gorget you mean, sir— My master does not like to be called Mac.
Must be very rich, to be sure— I begin to feel great respect for him.
The case I understand to be—Brummagem—
Would you be pleas'd to take a cup of chocolate, sir?
Yes—go fetch it.
No, I will send for it at least—Fanny, bring chocolate.
[Exit Fanny.
(aside)
I must give myself a few airs—I am sorry you have only a female to wait on you at present.
(FANNY
enters with chocolate.
)
I have been obliged to send away an impudent varlet this morning, whom i could not keep in the house for his vile love of lying—never could speak the truth; but, poor fellow! I am so good to them all, that I dare say he'll soon be back again.
(
Fanny brings down table and two chairs. They sit.
)
[Exit Fanny.
Ay, before you think of it, old rogue.
(Taking his chocolate)
Pho! this is too hot, it burns my mouth.
It may be a little too hot; but this, sir, is some of the most extraordinary chocolate that, I suppose, was ever fabricated. This is the vanilla triloba toxicodendra. This absolutely comes from the magazine of the first chocolate-maker in China, and has been in my house these nine years.
I fetch'd it myself from the chandler's shop this morning.
Enter
FANNY (
agitated
).
Sir, there's a gentleman come—
What's the matter with the girl? Take breath.
I ran up stairs, sir, to tell you—I believe he was not expected so soon, sir. Sir Andrew M'Gorget is come.
How! the deuce! Sir Andrew come!
Oh Lord! I'll run to receive him—
(
they rise
)
Where is he?
Just coming in at the court-gate.
[Exit.
Here, come along, Mr. What's-your-name? —I'll go before you—I'll be the first to receive sir Andrew.
Oh the devil! how shall I ever get out of this room again? I may save myself the trouble of thinking about it, because I shall be sure to be kick'd out.
Enter
VAIN (
drest as M'Gorget in a Spanish dress, with an immense hat on, followed by two Pages in fine Liveries: they bow to each other, and make the usual compliments
).
Boy, take my sombrero!
(
gives first page his hat
)
Those great hats must be very fatiguing in a long journey, sir Andrew.
To my pages they may be—it is their businss to be fatigued. No grandee in Spain, where I have been, ever takes any fatigue.
What a blessed country!
You seem to be studying my dress. I imagine it surprizes you in this country.—
(
aside
)
I hope he does not suspect that Selina pilfered it from his own museum.
I protest, sir Andrew, I don't know you in it.
No, I trust not.—I don't wonder at that, Mr. Brummagem. The alteration it makes is astonishing. This is the exact dress of the noble Spaniards.
Ay, I have one which descended into my possession by means of a great uncle of mine who lived in Spain, and had it presented to him by the queen at a bull-fight—But I thought at present the mode was altered.
Not with the grandees. They are obliged indeed by the laws to have other cloaths; but they wear them by proxy.
Proxy!
We nobles in Spain do every thing by proxy. For instance now, you think I carry no flaps to my coat, no pockets.
I see none.
Moziganga!
Here, sir.
Flaminy nosamo.
(
Page pulls outs a clean handkerchief: Vain wipes his face with it, and returns it to the page, who bows and retires.
)
Brixemarti!
Here, sir.
Tobacco my nosamo.
(
Page opens and offers a snuff-box. Vain takes a pinch, and page retires; Brum. takes a pinch at the same time.
)
There, my dear friend—You see that is carrying things in my pocket by proxy—
(
Brum. sneezes
)
May you live a thousand years!
Eh!
Excuse me: that's a common phrase in Spain—It means, bless you, or thank you. But speaking of the grandees of Spain, every thing, as I said, is by proxy—They receive and pay visits by proxy, and in short, perform most of the duties of society by proxy.
Give me leave to ask one question.
Live a thousand years. Pray ask me, sir.
Do they eat and drink by proxy?
Not absolutely. But, my dear friend, how is your charming niece? Who is this gentleman? Probably one of your friends?
(
seeing Ralph
).
So! now I shall be finely blown.
(
aside
)
Odso! I forgot to mention to you, that your steward was arrived. The joy of seeing you quite put him out of my head.
My steward!
Aye, don't you see him? Yonder he is.
Yes, yes, I see him.—
(
aside
)
I see I'm got into a pretty scrape.
(
Turns away from Ralph, who does the same from him
).
This impudent steward takes no notice of his master.
Mr. Brummagem!
(
calls Brum. who goes to him
).
Well, what do you say?
Does my master know that I am here?
To be sure he does—I told him so just now. Don't you speak to sir Andrew?
Perhaps sir Andrew may not be at leisure to be spoken to at present.
He is mighty humble at once. I suppose these grandees of Spain claim the privilege of speaking first.
Brummagem!
Sir Andrew!
(
goes to the other side to Vain.
Does my steward know that I am come?
I believe he has not seen you; but what is his name? I'll call him to you.
Plaguy-mi-damnamo.
That's a damn'd odd name. Wo'n't you be pleas'd to let Plaguy-mi-damnamo approach you?
No, by no means.
Oh! I suppose he wo'n't speak to him except by proxy. Would you wish I should say any thing to him for you, to save you the fatigue of speaking?
Dismiss him, and bid him wait for me at the inn.
Plaguy-mi-damnamo, sir Andrew will let you approach him at the inn, and not at this house.
(
Ralph runs out. Vain still keeping his back turn'd to him.
)
So! I see he wo'n't even look at the steward except by proxy.
That's well got rid of. That's my genius!
(
to Brum
)
But come, let us think of your charming niece—there is no time to be lost— Have you settled the day and manner of the nuptials?
As early a day as you please.
To-day, if possible; and the ceremonials public.
With all my heart. In what manner will you take her to church?
By proxy.
What! my niece by proxy?
Yes; in a chariot and four able horses, which shall be furnished from my own set, and two of my grooms on their backs.—
(
aside
)
By this means Cheerly may carry her clear off before any alarm can be raised.
Well, sir Andrew, if this is your pleasure, I shall certainly—
Live a thousand years!
By proxy, I may, to be sure. If you please, sir, we'll step in, and see my niece; she's a little tired with a long walk she has been taking in the fields,—I mean the park,—and looks a little palish.
(
walks up to centre door—takes keys from his girdle
)
Bless me, my dear friend, you are very cautious!
(
Ralph, Fanny, and Dolly appear, watching.
)
Why, the trouble of watching a young girl every minute is rather too much for an old man; so I employ these two proxies.
(
shews keys
)
But are you sure of what you say of captain Vain?
Main sure: I seed him talking with Mrs. Seliny.
It is he, sure enough; so at last I know what these two keys belong to.
(
enters, strutting
)
Oh, a plague! this fellow again!
How do you presume to come back, sir, in defiance of the will of your master, which I delivered as his proxy?
Why, sir, do you take this for sir Andrew?
So! now, if my genius deserts me—
You are imposed on.
How! imposed on! What! are not you sir Andrew M'Gorget?
Certainly, sir.
You my dear lord, the grandee, sir Andrew?—Pray, sir,
(to Brum.)
ask him what town sir Andrew lived at in Spain.—
(
aside
)
It is best to be before-hand with him in these questions.
Ay, very true; what town did you live at in Spain?
The town, sir? Why, the town, sir—Oh, the town! Why, Barcelona, to be sure.
There, sir!—Was that the town?
Why, yes, to be sure, Barcelona was the town.
The devil, it was! Let him answer in what ship he took his passage home.
(
sees Vain confused
)
Oh, all is safe! Let him answer that.
I see this fellow must go snacks with me.—Give me leave, Brummagem.—Hark ye, steward!
(
takes Ralph aside
)
I have a purpose to answer in passing for your master at present.—If you will go halves with me in a hundred pounds, you may.
Not I indeed!—
(
aloud
)
I dare say you have a purpose.
Now for heaven's sake—
I go shares with you!
Fifty pounds!
(
low
)
Leave the house directly, or—
(
loud
)
Sixty!
(
low
)
I'll let Mr. Brummagem know,
(
loud. Brum. comes near to them
).
A hundred!
(
low
)
That you are—
The devil!
You may be, for aught I know—
Mercy on me! What is all this?
A plague of this unseasonable interruption! there is nothing left but decamping. Mr. Brummagem, you'll excuse me—I'll take another opportunity.—Damn it! my genius has failed me.
(
Brum. beats Vain off
).
I have a great mind to let Mr. Brummagem know who you are.
Who is he? In the name of wonder, who is the dog?
His name is Vain.
What! captain Vain? an impudent scoundrel!
To think of imposing on you!
With his "Live a thousand years!"
A vulgar fellow! when no gentleman in Spain ever wishes you to live less than ten thousand at least.
I begin to enjoy it now the danger's over. It will make a curious anecdote in my life —
(
aside
)
with proper embellishments.
It reminds me of a singular circumstance that sir Andrew sends me an account of in his last letter.
Ay; what was that?
Why—but I keep you standing.
(
takes a chair, and sits
)
Pray, Brummy, no ceremonies.
Egad, I see you use none.
(
takes a chair likewise, and sits
)
Sir Andrew gives an account—I believe I have the letter in my pocket.
(
takes a letter from his pocket
).
Ah! let me hear all that sir Andrew says—
"A young man of this place"—
Where is it dated? From Barcelona, Eh?
(
peering over letter
).
It is lucky that I happen to know that—Oh, from Barcelona, certainly.—But why need I read? I'll tell it you—A young man was desperately in love with a girl of good fortune; and the father denied his consent, and wanted to marry her against her inclinations.
More fool he. Well!
Wherefore they laid a scheme to join the young people's hands, under the father's nose.
Ah! and how did they manage it?
One day the old man comes home as usual, with a hat as large
(
takes Brum.'s hat from his head
)
aye, larger than yours,
(
puts the hat on the table, making signs occasionally as to some one without
)
and seeing some strangers coming about the house, takes up his cane, that he always carried as you do,
(
takes cane from Brummagem's hand
)
This is a gold head.
Oh, the purest gold of Spain. It was given to my grandfather, by the—
Ay, no matter: I thought as much. Well, he takes his cane, and runs to his coffers where he kept his money; for sir Andrew says he did not suspect the design on his daughter.
Oh! a simpleton.
Quite a fool! Now his money was all fast secured under two stout keys such as these;
(
takes the keys from Brummagem's girdle, dangles'em about, and lays them on the table
)
and forth he sets to beat the rogues from his coffers.
Well, well.
In the mean time, while he was busy at his coffers, a maid servant, coming behind his back,
(
Fanny enters unobserved by Brummagem—takes the keys off table, opens the door, which she leaves unlockt, lays the keys down again on the table.
)
takes the keys, goes to her young mistress's door, opens it, lets the young lady know that her lover was waiting in the next room with a clergyman to marry them before they left the house.
Well, there was some decency in the young folks at least.
Oh! sir Andrew says he was a most excellent young man.
But suppose, now, the father had happened to meet the maid on this errand
(
turning, sees Fanny, who had just replaced the keys
)
—what do you want here, hussey?
I came to see if you would have the chocolate-cup taken away, sir.
Oh, very well—Ay, by all means. This is some of the finest china that—
(Fanny carries out the cups)
But I say, my dear friend,
(
replaces the keys in his girdle
)
suppose he had met the maid.
Why, that would have been unlucky, to be sure—But, as it happen'd, he never suspected her.
Well, and so—
The young lady was all in readiness to sly to her lover, but so overcome with fear, that she durst not venture to leave the room; upon which, her lover—
(Cheerly, conducted by Fanny, crosses the stage unobserv'd by Brummagem, and both go into Laura's room)
goes to her room to encourage—
(
aside
)
So far all is safe.
Oh, oh, my dear friend, but what!—All this happen before the father's face!
No, no, Brummy: you misunderstand me. They went behind the father's back.
Egad, it is lucky the old gentleman didn't turn his head round. What a pretty kettle of fish there wou'd have been!
Oh, but then—Aye, very true—I had forgot to tell you one circumstance. This scheme was managed by a rogue of a servant who played the old fool the most ludicrous trick—I cannot help laughing when I think of it—
(
Brum. affects to laugh
)
I'll shew you how they contriv'd it.
(they turn towards each other).
By all means. It's a good story, I dare say.
Excellent! I'll shew you. Well, now, you shall suppose I am this rogue of a servant.
Good.
And that you are the fool of a father.
With all my heart.
Now I take your large hat—such a one, we'll suppose, as this
(
takes Brum.'s hat from table
)
or larger, and I clap it entirely over your face.
(
ties a handkerchief over the hat
)
Now turn your head about, first on one side, then on the other side. What do you see?
Nothing, to be sure.
Well, while I keep this hat close over your eyes, forth comes the whole procession—first the maid servant with a bundle of her mistress's cloaths;
(
Fanny comes out of Laura's room with a bundle of cloaths, and exit. Cheerly and Laura following her
).
Ay, very good.
Then the lover, supporting the poor frighten'd damsel;
Ay, very good.
And lastly she herself, as anxious to escape as a prisoner for life from his prison, but trembling with fear lest her father should hear her; for if he had, you know—
(
Cheerly and Laura go off
)
Ha, ha, ha! You know—
Ha, ha!
(
looking from behind the hat
)
Very true; I comprehend you—How their hearts must have leapt when they got clear off!
Ay—and when their hands were instantly joined by the clergyman in the next room.
A rare story indeed! And very rarely contrived! Not like poor captain Vain's, with his fool's coat, and his thousand years.
No; 'twas managed by a much cleverer fellow. You may take off the hat—the story's over.
(
takes off the hat
)
And where did this happen?
In Devonshire.
In Devonshire! Why, you said it was in Spain.
Aye, Devonshire in Spain.
And what sort of an ass is the old man?
Much such another as yourself.
As me?
His name's Brummagem.
That's my name.
The same—Brummagem of Brummagem Hall.
Why, that's me.
Yes, it is you; and the rogue of a servant is—me.
(
pulls of his wig and discovers himshelf
)
Oh, you wicked, rascally—
Nay, you said yourself it was a good story; and I am sure it has answered a very good purpose—Ha, ha, ha!—
(
Brum. runs in, points to the door which is open, and returns immediately.
)
Eh! How! Why, is it possible? Oh! my niece is fled—Hollo! Fanny! Selina!
Enter
CHEERLY, LAURA, RALPH, FANNY, &c.
FINALE.
(CHEERLY
and
LAURA
kneel to
BRUMMAGEM.)
Dear sir, a trembling bride forgive,
Still in your favour let me live.
What! are you wed?
—Behold the ring!
Your blessing to our pray's afford!
What arms does Cheerly bear?
— A sword,
To serve old England and his king.
Dear sir, a trembling bride forgive, &c.
Dear sir, your faithful slaves forgive:
Still in your service let me live,
And with my mistress stay.
The arms I bear, you see, are two:
You may command all they can do;
So, turn me not away.
Dear sir, your faithful slaves forgive:
Still in your service let us live;
The arms we bear, you see, are two:
You may command all they can do;
So, turn us not away.
Well, well—I know not what to say.
I fancy I must let you stay,
And must your faults forgive:
For titles wedded, or for love,
The wisest they at last will prove,
Who shall the happiest live.
For titles wedded, or for love, &c.
THE END.