The Dramatic Works of George Farquhar

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SCENE I. Benjamin Wouldbe's Lodgings

Benjamin Wouldbe discovered dressings Jack

buckling his shoes.

Ben, Would. Here is such a plague every morning, with buckling shoes, gartering, combing and powdering! — Psha! cease thy impertinence, I'll dress no more to-day. — [-£"0;// Jack.] Were I an honest brute, that rises from his litter, shakes himself, and so is dressed, I could bear it

Enter Richmore.

Rich. No farther yet, Wouldbe ! 'tis almost one.

Ben. Would. Then blame the clockmakers, they made it so ; the sun has neither fore nor afternoon. Prithee, what have we to do with time? Can't we let it alone as nature made it? Can't a man eat when he's hungry, go to bed when he's sleepy, rise when he wakes, dress when he pleases, without the confinement of hours to enslave him ?

12 The Tivin* Rivals.

Rich. Pardon me, sir, I understand your stoicism — you have lost your money last night

Ben. Would. No, no, Fortune took care of roe there — I had none to lose.

Rich. 'Tis that gives you the spleen.

Ben. Would. Yes, I have got the spleen; and something else. — Hark'ee — [ Whispers.

Rich. How !

Ben. Would. Positively. The lady's kind reception was the most severe usage I ever met with. Shan't I break her windows, Richmore ?

Rich. A mighty revenge truly I Let me tell you, friend, that breaking the windows of such houses are no more than writing over a vintner's door as they do in Holland, Vin te koop. Tis no more than a bush to a tavern, a decoy to trade, and to draw in customers ; but upon the whole matter, I think, a gentleman should put up an affront got in such httle company ; for the pleasure, the pain, and the resentment, are all alike scandalous.

Ben. Would. Have you forgot, Richmore, how I found you one morning with the Flying-Post * in your hand, hunting for physical advertisements ?

Rich. That was in the days of dad, my friend, in the days of dirty linen, pit-masks, hedge-taverns, and beefsteaks ; but now I fly at nobler game ; the Ring, the Court, Pawlet's, and the Park: I despise all women that I apprehend any danger from, less than the having my throat cut: and should scruple to converse even with a lady of fortune, unless her virtue were loud enough to give me pride in exposing it —

* A leading newspaper in the reign of Queen Anne, issued three times a week.

Here's a letter I received this morning ; you may read it \Gives a letter.

Ben. Would. [Reads.] If there he solemnity in protestation^ justice in heaven^ or fidelity on earthy I may still depend on the faith of my Richmorei Though I may conceal my love^ I no longer can hide the effects on^t from the world. Be careful of my honour^ remember your vows^ and fly to the relief of the disconsolate Clelia.

The fair, the courted, blooming Clelia !

Rich, The credulous, troublesome, foolish Clelia, Did you ever read such a fulsome harangue? Lardf sir^ I am near my timcy and want your assistance/ Does the silly creature imagine that any man would come near her in those circumstances, unless it were doctor Chamberlain ? * You may keep the letter.

Ben. Would. But why would you trust it with me ? you know I can't keep a secret that has any scandal in't

Rich. For that reason I communicate: I know thou art a perfect gazette, and will spread the news all over the town : for you must understand that I am now besieging another; and I would have the fame of my conquest upon the wing, that the town may surrender the sooner.

Ben. Would. But if the report of your cruelty goes along with that of your valour, you'll find no garrison of any strength will open their gates to you.

Rich. No, no, women are cowards, and terror prevails upon them more than clemency: my best pretence to my success with the fair is my using 'em

* Hugh Chamberlain (or Chamberlen) was a noted accoucheur.

4 f ill. Tis turning their own guns upon 'em, and I have always found it the most successful battery to assail one reputation by sacrificing another.

Ben, Would, I could love thee for thy mischief, did I not envy thee for thy success in't

Rich. You never attempt a woman of figure.

Ben. Would, How can I ? this confounded hump of mine is such a burden at my back, that it presses me down here in the dirt and diseases of Covent-garden, the low suburbs of pleasure. Curst fortune ! I am a younger brother, and yet cruelly deprived of my birthright of a handsome person ; seven thousand a year in a direct line, would have straightened my back to some purpose. But I look, in my present circumstances, like a branch of another kind, grafted only upon the stock which makes me grow so crooked.

Rich, Come, come, 'tis no misfortune, your father is so as well as you.

Ben. Would, Then why should not I be a lord as well as he ? Had I the same title to the deformity I could bear it

Rich, But how does my lord bear the absence of your twin-brother ?

Ben, Would, My twin-brother I Ay, 'twas his crowding me that spoiled my shape, and his coming half an hour before me that ruined my fortune. My father expelled me his house some two years ago, because I would have persuaded him' that my twin-brother was a bastard. He gave me my portion, which was about fifteen hundred pound, and I have spent two thousand of it already. As for my brother, he don't care a farthing for me.

Rich. Why so, pray ?

Ben. Would. A very odd reason — ^because I hate him.

Rich. How should he know that ?

Ben. Would. Because he thinks it reasonable it should be so.

Rich. But did your actions ever express any malice to him?

Ben. Would. Yes: I would fain have kept him company ; but being aware of my kindness, he went abroad. He has travelled these five years, and, I am told, is a grave sober fellow, and in danger of living a great while; all my hope is, that when he gets into his honour and estate, the nobility will soon kill him by drinking him up to his dignity. But come, Frank, I have but two eyesores in the world, a brother before me and a hump behind me, and thou art still laying 'em in my way : let us assume an argument of less severity. Canst thou lend me a brace of hundred pounds ?

Rich. What would you do with 'em?

Ben. Would. Do with 'em 1 there's a question indeed ! Do you think I would eat 'em ?

Rich. Yes, o' my troth, would you, and drink 'em together. Look'ee, Mr. Wouldbe, whilst you kept well with your father, I could have ventured to have lent you five guineas : but as the case stands, I can assure you, I have lately paid off my sister's fortune, and —

Ben. Would Sir, this put-off looks like an affront, when you know I don't use to take such things.

Rich. Sir, your demand is rather an affront, when you know I don't use to give such things.

f6 The Twin* Rivals.

Ben. Would. Sir, I'll pawn my honour.

Riclu That's mortgaged already for more than it is worth ; you had better pawn your sword there, 'twill bring you forty shillings.

Ben. Would. 'Sdeath, sir. —

[Takes Ms sword off the table.

Rich. Hold, Mr. Wouldbe 1 suppose I put an end to your misfortunes all at once ?

Ben. Would. How, sir?

Rich. Why, go to a magistrate, and swear you would have robbed me of two hundred pounds. Look'ee, sir, you have been often told, that your extravagance would some time or other be the ruin of you ; and it will go a great way in your indictment, to have turned the pad upon your friend.

Ben. Would. This usage is the height of ingratitude from you, in whose company I have spent my fortune.

Rich. I'm therefore a witness, that it was very ill spent. Why would you keep company, be at equal expenses with me, that have fifty times your estate ? What was gallantry in me, was prodigality in you; mine was my health, because I could pay for^t ; yours a disease, because you could not.

Ben. Would And is this all I must expect from our friendship ?

Rich. Friendship 1 sir, there can be no such thing without an eguality.

Ben. Would. That is, there can be no such thing when there is occasion for't

Rich. Eight, sir ; our friendship was over a bottle only ; and whilst you can pay your club of friendship, I'm that way your humble servant ; but when once you come borrowing, I'm this way — your humble servant. \Exit

Ben, Would, Rich, big, proud, arrogant villain I I have been twjcgjb is sec ond, thrice sick of the same love, and thrice cured bythe same physic, and now he drops me for a trifle. That an honest fellow in his cups should be such a rogue when he's sober! The narrow-hearted rascal has been drinking coffee this morning. Well, thou dear^ solitary half-crown, adieu ! — Here, Jack !

Rcrenter Jack.

Take this; pay for a bottle of wine, and bid Balderdash bring it himself. — \Exit Jack.] How melancholy are my poor breeches ; not one chink ! — ^Thou art a villanous hand, for thou hast picked my pocket — ^This vintner now has all the marks of an honest fellow, a broad face, a copious look, a strutting belly, and a jolly mien. I have brought him above three pound a night for these two years successively. The rogue has money, I'm sure, if he will but lend it

Enter Balderdash with a bottle and glass^

Jack attending.

Oh, Mr. Balderdash, good morrow.

Bald, Noble Mr. Wouldbe, I'm your most humble servant I have brought you a whetting-glass, the best old hock in Europe ; I know 'tis your drink in a morning.

Ben. Would, 111 pledge you, Mr. Balderdash.

Bald, Your health, sir. [Drinks,

Ben, Would, Pray, Mr. Balderdash, tell me one thing — but first sit down : now tell me plainly what you think of me ?

VOL. IL B

Bald, Think of you, sir ! I think that you are the honestest, noblest gentleman, that ever drank a glass of wine ; and the best customer that ever came into my house.

Ben, Would, And you really think as you speak ?

Bald, May this wine be my poison, sir, if I don't speak from the bottom of my heart !

Ben, Would, And how much money do you think I have spent in your house ?

Bald, Why truly, sir, by a moderate computation, I do believe that I have handled of your money the best part of five hundred pounds within these two years.

Ben, Would, Very well ! And do you think that you lie under any obligation for the trade I have promoted to your advantage ?

Bald, Yes, sir; and if I can serve you in any respect, pray command me to the utmost of my ability.

Ben, Would, Well, thanks to my stars, there is still some honesty in wine ! — Mr. Balderdash, I embrace you and your kindness : I am at present a little low in cash, and must beg you to lend me a hundred pieces.

Bald, Why, truly, Mr. Wouldbe, I was afraid it would come to this. I have had it in my head several times to caution you upon your expenses: but you were so very genteel in my house, and your liberality became you so very well, that I was unwilling to say anything that might check your disposition ; but truly, sir, I can forbear no longer to tell you, that you have been a little too extravagant.

Ben, Would, But since you reaped the benefit of my extravagance, you will, I hope, consider my necessity.

Bald, Consider your necessity ! I do with all my heart, and must tell you, moreover, that I will be no longer accessory to it : I desire you, sir, to frequent my house no more.

JSen, Would. How, sir !

Bald, I say, sir, that I have an honour for my good lord your father, and will not suffer his son to run into any inconvenience. Sir, I shall order my drawers not to serve you with a drop of wine. Would you have me connive at a gentleman's destruction! ?

Ben. Would, But methinks, sir, that a person of your nice conscience should have cautioned me before.

Bald, Alas ! sir, it was none of my business. Would you have me be saucy to a gentleman that was my best customer? Lackaday, sir, had you money to hold it out still, I had been hanged rather than be rude to you. But truly, sir, when a man is ruined, 'tis but the duty of a Christian to tell him of it.

Ben, Would, Will you lend me the money, sir ?

Bald, Will you pay me this bill, sir ?

Ben. Would, Lend me the hundred pound, and I will pay the bill.

Bald, Pay me the bill, and I will not lend the hundred pound, sir. But pray consider with yourself now, sir, would not you think me an arrant coxcomb, to trust a person with money that has always been so extravagant under my eye ? whose profuseness I have seen, I have felt, I have handled ? Have not I known you, sir, throw away ten pound of a night upon a covey of pit-partridges, and a setting-dog ? Sir, you have made my house an ill house : my very chairs will bear you no longer. In short, sir, I desire you to frequent the Crown no more, shr.

Ben, Would, Thou sophisticated tun of iniquity, have I fattened your carcass, and swelled your bags with my vital blood? Have I made you my companion to be thus saucy to me ? But now I will keep you at your due distance. \Kicks him.

Jack, Welcome, sir !

Ben, Would, Well said, Jack. \Kicks him again. Jack, Very welcome, sir ! I hope we shall have your company another time Welcome, sir 1

[Balderdash is kicked off,

Ben, Would, Pray wait on him downstairs, and

give him a welcome at the door too. — [^Exit Jack.]

This is the punishment of hell; the very devil that

tempted me to the sin, now upbraids me with the

r crime — I have villanously murdered my fortune ; and

: now its ghost, in the lank shape of poverty, haunts

^ me : is there no charm to. conjure down the fiend ?

Re-enter Jack.

Jack, O sir, here's sad news !

Ben, Would, Then keep it to thyself, I have enough of that already.

Jack, Sir, you will hear it too soon.

Ben, Would, What 1 is Broad below ?

Jack, No, no, sir; better twenty such as he were hanged. Sir, your father's dead.

Ben, Would, My father ! — Good night, my lord ! — Has he left me anything ?

Jach I heard nothing of that, sir.

Ben. Would, Then I believe you heard all there was of it. — Let me see. — My father dead ! and my elder brother abroad ! — I f necessity b ejhejnother of invention, shejjas never more pregnant than >Yith me. — \Pauses^ Here, sirrah, run to Mrs. Mandrake, and bid her come hither presently. — \Exit Jack.] That woman was my mother's midwife when I was bom, and has been my bawd these ten years. I have had her endeavours to corrupt my brother's mistress ; and now her assistance will be necessary to cheat him of his estate ; for she's famous for understanding the right side of a woman, and the wrong side of the law.

{Exit

Scene II

A Room in Mrs. Mandrake's House.

Mrs. Mandrake discovered.

Mrs. Man. Who is there ? {Calls.

Enter Maid.

Maid. Madam !

Mrs. Man. Has any message been left for me to-day?

Maid. Yes, madam : here has been one from my lady^riUbom, that desired you not to be out of the way, for she expected to cry out every minute.

Mrs. Man. How I every minute ! — Let me see. — \Takes out a pocket-book.'] Stillborn — ^ay — she reckons with her husband from the first of April ; and with Sir James, from the first of March. — Ay, she's always

The Twin-Rivals.

3. month before her time. — [Knocking at the door,'\ Go see who's at the door.

Maid. Yes, madam. \Exit

Mrs, Man. Well, certainly there is not a woman in the world so willing to oblige mankind as myself! and really I have been so ever since the age of twelve, as I can remember. I have delivered as / many women of great bellies, and helped as many to 'em, as any person in England ; but my watching and cares have broken me quite, I am not the same woman I was forty years ago.

Enter Richmore.

Oh, Mr. Richmore ! you're a sad man, a barbarous man, so you are ! What will become of poor Clelia, Mr. Richmore? The poor creature is so big with her misfortunes, that they are not to be borne.

[ Weeps,

Rich. You, Mrs. Mandrake, are the fittest person in the world to ease her of 'em.

Mrs, Man. And won't you marry her, Mr. Richmore?

Rich. My conscience won't allow it; for I have sworn since to marry another.

Mrs. Man. And will you break your vows to Clelia?

Rich. Why not, when she has broke hers to me ?

Mrs. Man. How's that, sir ?

Rich. Why, she swore a hundred times never to grant me the favour, and yet, you know she broke her word.

Mrs. Man. But she loved, Mr. Richmore, and that was the reason she forgot her oath.

RicK And I love Mr. Richmore, and that is the reason I forgot mine. Why should she be angry that I follow her own example, by doing the very same thing from the very same motive ?

Mrs, Man, Well, well, take my word, you'll never thrive. I wonder how you can have the face to come near me, that am the witness of your horrid oaths and imprecations ! Are not you afraid that the guilty chamber above-stairs should fall down upon your head ? Yes, yes, I was accessory, I was so; but if ever you involve my honour in such a villany the second time — Ah, poor Clelia ! I loved her as I did my own daughter — you seducing man !

[ Weeps,

Rich, Heigh-ho, my Aurelia !

Mrs, Man, Heigh-ho, she's very pretty I

Rich, Dost thou know her, my dear Mandrake ?

Mrs, Man, Heigh-ho, she's very pretty ! Ah, you're a sad man ! Poor Clelia was handsome, but indeed, breeding, puking, and longing, has broken her much. 'Tis a hard case, Mr. Richmore, for a young lady to see a thousand things, and long for a thousand things, and yet not dare to own that she longs for one. She had liked to have miscarried t'other day for the pith of a loin of veal. — Ah, you barbarous man I —

Rich, But, my Aurelia ! confirm me that you know her, and I'll adore thee.

Mrs, Man, You would fling five hundred guineas at my head, that you knew as much of her as I do : why, sir, I brought her into the world ; I have had her sprawling in my lap. Ah ! she was as plump as a puffin, sir.

^/V^' I 'think she has no great portion to value herself upon ; her reputation only will keep up the market. We must first make that cheap, by crying it down, and then she'll part with it at an easy rate.

Mrs, Man, But won't you provide for poor Clelia ?

Rich, Provide ! why, ha'n't I taught her a trade ? Let her set up when she will, I'll engage her customers enough, because I can answer .for the goodness of the ware.

Mrs, Man, Nay, but you ought to set her up with credit, and take a shop ; that is, get her z, husband. Have you no pretty gentleman your relation now, that wants a young virtuous lady with a handsome fortune? No young Templar that has spent his estate in the study of the law, and starves by the practice ? No spruce officer that wants a handsome wife to make court for him among the major-generals ? Have you none of these, sir ?

Rich. Pho, pho, madam ! you have tired me upon that subject. Do you think a lady that gave me so much trouble before possession shall ever give me any after it ? No, no ; had she been more obliging to me when I was in her power, I should be more civil to her now she's in mine : my assiduity beforehand was an overprice; had she made a merit of the matter, she should have yielded sooner.

Mrs, Man, ' Nay, nay, sir ; though you have no regard to her honour, yet you shall protect mine. How d'ye think I have secured my reputation so long among the people of best figure, but by keeping all mouths stopped ? Sir, I'll have no clamours at me. Heavens help me, I have clamours enough at my door early and late in my t'other capacity ! In short, sir, a husband for Clelia, or I banish you my presence for ever.

Rich. Thou art a necessary devil, and I can't want thee. \Aside.

Mrs. Man. Look'ee, sir, 'tis your own advantage ; 'tis only making over your estate into the hands of a trustee ; and though you don't absolutely command the premises, yet you may exact enough out of 'em for necessaries, when you will.

Rich. Patience a little, madam! I have a young nephew that is a captain of horse : he mortgaged the last morsel of his estate to me, to make up his equipage for the last campaign. Perhaps you know him ; he's a brisk fellow, much about court, Captain Trueman.

Mrs. Man. Trueman ! ads m j life, he's one of my babies I I can tell you the very minute he was bom — ^precisely at three o'clock next St. George's day Trueman will be two-and-twenty ; a stripling, the prettiest, good-natured child, and your nephew ! he must be the man ; and shall be the man ; I have a kindness for him.

Rich. But we must have a care ; the fellow wants neither sense nor courage.

Mrs. Man. Phu, phu ! never fear her part, she shan't want instructions ; and then for her lying-in a little abruptly, 'tis my business to reconcile matters there, a fright or a fall excuses that. Lard, sir ! I do these things every day.

Rich. 'Tis pity then to put you out of your road ; and Clelia shall have a husband.

Mrs. Man. Spoke like a man of honour ! and now I'll serve you again. This Aurelia, you say —

Rich, Oh, she distracts me ! Her beauty, family, and virtue, make her a noble pleasure.

Mrs, Man. And you have a mind for that reason to get her a husband ?

Rich, Yes, faith ; I have another young relation at Cambridge is just going into orders ; and I think such a fine woman, with fifteen hundred pound, is a better presentation than any living in my gift; and why should he like the cure the worse that an incumbent was there before ?

Mrs, Man, Thou art a pretty fellow ! At the same moment you would persuade me that you love a woman to madness, are you contriving how to part with her.

Rich, If I loved her not to madness I should not run into these contradictions. Here, my dear mother, Aurelia's the word. \Offers her money,

Mrs, Man, Pardon me, sir ! — \Refusing the money ^^ Did you ever know me mercenary? No, no, sir; virtue is its own reward.

Rich, Nay, but, madam, I owe you for the teethpowder you sent me.

Mrs, Man, Oh, that's another matter, sir ! — [Takes the money,] I hope you like it, sir?

Rich, Extremely, madam. — [Aside.] But it was somewhat dear of twenty guineas.

Enter Footman.

Eoot, Madam, here is Mr. Wouldbe's footman below with a message from his master.

Mrs? Man, I dome to him presently. — [Exit Footman.] Do you know that Wouldbe loves Aurelia's cousin and companion, Mrs. Constance, with the great fortune, and that I solicit for him ?

Rich, Why, she's engaged to his elder brother ! besides, young Wouldbe has no money to prosecute an affair of such consequence. You can have no hopes of success there, I'm sure.

Mrs, Man. Truly, I have no great hopes ; but an industrious body, you know, would do anything rather than be idle : the aunt is very near her time, and I have access to the family when I please.

Rich, Now I think on't ; prithee, get the letter from Wouldbe that I gave him just now. It would be proper to our designs upon Trueman that it should not be exposed.

Mrs, Man, And you showed Clelia's letter to Wouldbe ?

Rich, Yes.

Mrs, Man, Eh, you barbarous man ! Who the devil would oblige you ? What pleasure can you take in exposing the poor creature ? Dear little child, 'tis pity, indeed it is !

Rich, Madam, the messenger waits below: so I'll take my leave. \ExiU

Mrs, Man, Ah, you're a sad man ! \Exit

Act II. Scene I

The Park

Constance and Aurelia discovered,

Aur, Prithee, cousin Constance, be cheerful; let the dead lord sleep in peace, and look up to the living; take pen, ink, and paper, and write immediately to your lover, that he is now a baron of England, and that you long to be a baroness.

Con. Nay, Aurelia, there is some regard due to the memory of the father for the respect I bear the son; besides, I don't know how, I could wish my young lord were at home in this juncture. This brother of his — some mischief will happen — I had a very ugly dream last night In short, I am eaten up with the spleen, my dear.

Aur, Come, come, walk about and divert it ; the air will do you good ; think of other people's affairs a little. When did you see Clelia ?

Con, I'm glad you mentioned her; don't you observe her gaiety to be much more forced than formerly ? her humour don't sit so easy upon her.

Aur. No, nor her stays neither, I can assure you.

Con. Did you observe how she devoured the pomegranates yesterday ?

Aur: She talks of visiting a relation in Leicestershire.

Con, She fainted away in the country dance t'other night.

Aur, Richmore shunned her in the Walk last week.

Con. And his footman laughed.

Aur, She takes laudanum to make her sleep at nights.

Con. Ah, poor Clelia I What will she do, cousin ?

Aur, Do ! why nothing till the nine months be up.

Con, That's cruel, Aurelia, how can you make merry with her misfortunes ? I am positive she was no easy conquest; some singular villany has been practised upon her.

Aur, Yes, yes, the fellow would be practising upon me too, I thank him.

Con, Have a care, cousin, he has a promising person.

Aur, Nay, for that matter, his promising person may as soon be broke as his promising vows. Nature indeed has made him a giant, and he wars with heaven like the giants of old.

Con, Then why will you admit his visits ?

Aur, I never did : but all the servants are more his than our own. He has a golden key to every door in the house; besides, he makes my uncle believe that his intentions are honourable ; and, indeed, he has said nothing yet to disprove it. But, cousin, do you see who comes yonder, sliding along the Mall ?

Con, Captain Trueman, I protest! the campaign has improved him, he makes a very clean, well-furnished figure.

Auk Youthful, easy, and good-natured. I could wish he would know us.

Con, Are you sure he's well-bred?

Aur. I tell you he's good-natured, and I take good manners to be nothing but a natural desire to be easy and agreeable to whatever conversation we fall into ; and a porter with this is mannerly in his way, and a duke without it has but the breeding of a dancingmaster.

Con. I like him for his affection to my young lord.

Aur. And I like him for his affection to my young person.