Читать книгу: «Single Life», страница 4

Boss. (In his chair, F.E.R.) An elegant compliment I think.

Miss Coy. Don’t talk to me, puppy. (To BOSS.)

Boss. My dear Miss, I am sorry to see you so bitter, though I am not surprised at it. The superanuated beauty is ever the most acrimonious of old maids; as the finest Burgundy, when spoiled, produces the sharpest vinegar.

All. (But NIGGLE.) Ha! ha! ha!

[MISS SNARE kisses her hand to BOSS; he rises and looks at himself in the glass.

Nig. I cant allow this. Miss Coy’s feelings shall not be trifled with.

Miss Coy. Oh, sir, your championship is now too late, had it been exerted yesterday morning, this scene might have been spared. (Sobbing.)

Nig. She’s crying: I can’t see her cry. (Rising.)

Dam. (Pulling him to his seat.) Sit down. All women can command tears.

Miss Mac. (Rising and calling to DAMPER.) Oh! you brute. Oh! you brute.

Miss Mea. Aunt, pray keep your seat and your temper.

Miss Coy. (Recovering herself.) And you, Miss Skylark, you must make your little additions to the tittle-tattle.

Miss Sky. I.

Miss Coy. A female adventurer, am I? deep in debt, and only anxious for a husband to remove that burthen from my shoulders; that I loiter in shady lanes, and pretend to study botany as an excuse for solitary walks; that I practice attitudes, sighs, and simulate fainting to attract attention.

Miss Sky. Never said a thing of the sort, miss, and the consciousness that you have really been so ridiculous, has alone made you suppose such things to have been applied to you. (She returns to her seat.)

Pin. (Advancing with great courage.) Oh, come, come, Miss, if that lady has said that you were a botanist, and practice antics, I see no such harm in it.

Miss Coy. You see, sir: what can it matter what you may see, sir?

Pin. Perhaps it don’t; but it may matter what I can hear. Ah, you may look, I’ll make my little additions now, and then. I give you leave to turn all your vengeance on me, in lieu of attacking that lady. (Pointing to MISS SKYLARK.) Very fine indeed, to sit here pretending not to know your own son.

Dam. Well said, Pinkey – excellent.

Nig. If the little monster insults her, I’ll knock him down.

Miss Coy. What does the lunatic mean?

Pin. It’s not very often that I can say much, but when the fit is on me I can find words as fast as anybody, to express my meaning.

Dam. Express your strongest, Pinkey.

Nig. (Striving to leave his seat, is kept back by DAMPER.) He shall not.

Dam. Sit down and hear all.

Pin. Now, ma’am, while I’m in the vein I’ll have my say. You know that person there (Pointing to CHESTER.) is your clandestine son, and if Mr. Niggle had been unfortunate enough to have fallen a victim to your wiley arts, he would have found himself, not only the surreptitious father-in-law of a full grown young man, but responsible for a budget of bills, from milliners, linen-drapers, wig-makers, butchers, and wine depóts – and – that’s all.

Dam. And quite enough I think. Look at her, see how confounded she is now.

Miss Coy. (Falling into her chair.) Well, this is the climax of scandal.

[MISS MEADOWS rises and comes forward, followed by MISS MACAW.

Miss Mea. (To MISS MACAW.) Pray let us leave the house.

Che. (Advancing and detaining her.) Are we never to meet again?

Miss Mea. Never, while so much mystery surrounds you.

Miss Coy. (To MISS MACAW.) A word with you, madam, if you please.

Miss Mac. With me?

Miss Coy. If that gentleman is so closely related to me a reported, it becomes my positive duty to warn him against forming any connection with you, madam, and your supposed niece, there.

Miss Mac. What may you have to warn him against?

Miss Coy. (R.) Look at the “Weekly Tell-tale,” you are drawn there in your true colors. A run-away Opera dancer, and an insolvent boarding-house keeper, are not the most desirable connexions for any young bachelor.

Miss Mac. (C.) Pray, madam, which may I be; the dancer or the housekeeper?

Miss Coy. Whichever you prefer, madam.

Miss Mac. Oh! the villiany of the world. This, sir, must be some of your malice. (To DAMPER.)

Dam. No, no, I wish it was.

Che. (To MISS MEADOWS.) There, now we are both surrounded by mystery.

Miss Mea. A greater reason than ever that we part.

Che. A greater reason than ever that we should be the defenders of one another. Let slander do its worst – I repeat it aloud – let slander do its worst; for then is the time that we should surround our friends and defeat its malice. Then is the hour that the lover should be the more devoted; and, I here prove my devotion, by proclaiming before you all, that, let these ladies be under the worst of imputations, I am proud of the friendship of one, and shall be but too happy, to test my love for the other, by being her husband as soon as she will bestow upon me that happy title.

Miss Mea. Ah! do I find myself surpassed in generosity; then, indeed, we are friends once more. (Giving him her hand.)

Che. (L.) There you fluctuating bachelor, (To NIGGLE.) when you wish to prove your affection, listen not to every idle tale, shrink at every paltry inuendo; but advance to the rescue of your ladies fame. Come, Miss Macaw, never heed slanderers, the ripest and the richest fruit is ever the most pecked. (Taking the arms of MISS MACAW and MISS MEADOWS in his own.) Come, ladies, I will accompany you home. Mother! (To MISS COY.) since they will have it so, when you have fought your good fight, you know where to find me. Come, ladies; Miss Snare, good evening to you, thanks for your hospitality and its happy results.

[Exeunt with MISS MACAW and MISS MEADOWS.

Nig. He’s right, he’s right, this is the time that I ought to prove my love, if I have any.

Dam. You will rush into danger.

Nig. (Passing DAMPER.) Oh, Miss Coy, whoever that young man may be, his sentiments do honour to his heart. I have been weak, but —

Miss Coy. Nay, sir, your penitence is useless now, circumstances have occurred since yesterday, that make the division between us wider than ever.

Nig. What circumstances?

Miss Coy. There is no necessity for explanation; you are free to rove where you will, and may the next confiding creature that accepts your proposal be more fortunate than I have been. (Going.)

Nig. Nay, nay, don’t go, dear, don’t go. Damper, I must be married: think of the delights of a domestic temple of repose – a cheerful wife.

Miss Coy. Ah, sir, strike the balance between celibacy and matrimony, I will assist you. Go on, sir, – a cheerful wife —

Nig. Angelic!

Dam. Sometimes cross as the devil.

Nig. Ah, true!

Miss Coy. Dear, rosy children welcoming your return home.

Nig. Ah, delightful!

Dam. To plague and torment you with their noise, and their screaming and fighting all the time you are there.

Nig. Ah, true!

Miss Coy. To find every comfort that can make life endurable.

Nig. Oh, charming!

Dam. With heavy bills for their enjoyment, every week.

Nig. Ah, true!

Miss Coy. (R.) To look round you, and say, this house is my paradise.

Nig. (C.) Oh, happiness!

Dam. (L.) Till some one runs away with your wife.

Nig. Oh, Lord! There’s all my courage gone at once. No, I never shall get married.

Miss Coy. Remain then as you are, sir, a melancholy bachelor. Be guided by your friend, sir, do; be guided by a man that supposes he has formed a perfect acquaintance with our sex, when the creature never had a female friend that confided her heart’s feelings to him in all his life. Go, sir. Enjoy your freedom; (Crosses to L.) but abandon all hope of me, for an obstacle to our union, now exists, that cannot be removed.

[Exit F.E.L.

Nig. (To DAMPER.) I don’t know whether to regard you as my good or my evil genius; but, whichever you are, I must follow her.

Dam. Don’t be weak.

Nig. What is the obstacle that for ever prevents our union?

Dam. Me, I dare say; yet, whatever it may be, don’t seek to know – be ignorant and be blest.

Nig. I must, I will know; such is the perversity of human nature, that now I have lost all hope of being a married man, I have a greater longing than ever for the name. I will follow her and learn the obstacle.

Dam. Stay where you are.

Nig. I can’t. I feel that I can’t.

Dam. Then I’ll go with you.

Nig. You had better not.

Dam. I will.

Nig. You had better not.

Dam. I will.

[NIGGLE runs off, F.E.L.; DAMPER follows. MISS SNARE and BOSShave been flirting during the foregoing dialogue. PINKEY has kept his seat near the fire, not daring to move, as MISS SKYLARKhas been constantly regarding him.

Miss Sna. What an extraordinary series of events, for one afternoon, and no learning who or what Miss Macaw and her neice are.

Boss. Or their gentleman either. It’s all very singular. Pinkey, my man, we are going to give you another opportunity; profit by it.

Pin. Oh, don’t leave me, pray don’t.

Boss. Try again, man; try again.

Miss Sna. And avoid copying letters.

Pin. Oh! those letters.

Miss Sna. Now, Mr. Boss, will you step and look at my little parterre?

Boss. Really, I’m no florist.

Miss Sna. But you always make some valuable observation, whatever you may be regarding – you can’t help it – your natural good taste is so prevailing.

Boss. Do you think so, really?

Miss Sna. Sincerely I do.

Boss. Upon my life you are a very agreeable creature.

Miss Sna. It requires little effort to be agreeable where you are.

Boss. ’Pon my honour, you’ll make me actually in love —

Miss Sna. Ah!

Boss. With myself.

Miss Sna. Oh!

[Exeunt MISS SNARE and BOSS; PINKEY rises, and makes an effort to run out of the room; MISS SKYLARKrises.

Miss Sky. I am sorry to see you so embarrassed, Mr. Pinkey; the indignation that I expressed this afternoon when I returned your letters, has been entirely removed by your generous conduct in defending me. Don’t attempt to speak just now; because I know you can’t if you were to try. Think of what I have said; but pray avoid my presence till you have acquired sufficient courage to express your wishes. Good evening, I leave you like —(Singing.)

 
“The last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
Whose lovely companions
Are faded and gone.”
 

[Exit.

Pin. (Rising with energy.) I must and I will shake off my shyness. What can I do? I’ll run home and try what a bottle or two of port – or sherry – or a bottle of each will do for me. I cannot live this life, it’s killing me by inches. Oh! she’s coming back – I will make a desperate rush – a kind of despair seems to fill my heart that gives me a sort of courage; and, if it isn’t of the right sort, it may answer just as well. I wont wait to look at her, that always does for me – I wont wait to think – I’ll only say – “Will you be mine.” Then if she says “Yes,” there’s an end of the matter. No more speeches – all rubbish – a few words – short and to the point, that’s the way – I know it – I feel it.

MISS MACAW enters F.E.L.; PINKEY’S back is towards her

Miss Mac. I’ve left my reticule.

[PINKEY rushes towards her and falls on both his knees.

Pin. Will you be mine?

Miss Mac. (Boxing his ears.) That’s for your impertinence, sir.

Pin. It’s the wrong woman, and all my courage has been thrown away. I’ll really beg —

Miss Mac. How dare you, sir?

Pin. I didn’t know.

Miss Mac. Have I ever encouraged you?

Pin. No, no, you never did.

Miss Mac. Begone, contemptible creature. (Stamps her foot; PINKEY runs off in alarm, L.) A little presumptuous mortal, to dare to take such a liberty. Where’s my reticule? (Searching the chairs.)

Dam. (Without.) Oh, here, is she?

Enter DAMPER, F.E.L

Dam. I’ve made up my mind now, what to do. He will not be guided by me any longer, he will rush to his ruin; but I’ll first get married myself, to show him how right I am in all that I said of the misery of the state. Miss Maria Macaw.

Miss Mac. Sir.

Dam. I have been looking for you. Sit down.

Miss Mac. I sha’n’t.

Dam. I want to tell you something.

Miss Mac. Well, sir, tell it.

Dam. I hate you.

[They sit.

Miss Mac. Well, sir, and I hate you.

Dam. Then we ought to be married.

Miss Mac. What?

Dam. I say we ought to be married; because we shall begin at the right end. All the rest of the world begin with love and finish with hating. We will be wiser – begin with hate and perhaps – I say perhaps end with love. I mean what I say – I have a motive for what I am saying. Do you hate me heartily enough to marry me?

Miss Mac. I do, sir.

Dam. You can’t endure me?

Miss Mac. I think you a most hateful person.

Dam. You, to me, are a perfect Gorgon.

Miss Mac. I’m very happy to hear it.

Dam. And if we do come together, we’ll strive all in our power to make each other miserable.

Miss Mac. I’ll do my best, be assured.

Dam. Thwart each other in every thing.

Miss Mac. If you want to walk, I’ll insist upon riding.

Dam. Agreed!

Miss Mac. When you want to be silent, I’ll talk you to death.

Dam. Agreed!

Miss Mac. And annoy you night and day in every possible manner – think of nothing else —

Dam. Excellent!

Miss Mac. Study nothing else.

Dam. Delicious! There’s my hand, whatever you are – whoever you may be – whatever your character, there’s my hand.

Miss Mac. And there, sir, is mine. (Presenting her hand.)

Dam. Fright!

Miss Mac. Brute!

Dam. A kiss?

Miss Mac. No.

Dam. Yes. The first and the last.

Miss Mac. On that condition, there.

[She presents her cheek; DAMPER kisses her.

NIGGLE runs on and stands in amazement

Nig. (Exclaims in surprise.) Damper!

[DAMPER and MISS MACAW sit looking at each other, with great ferocity, as the act drop descends.

END OF ACT II

ACT III

SCENE I. —The cottage – same as first scene of second act – Chairs, tables as before.

MISS MEADOWS, L. and CHESTER, R., discovered

Che. Now, Jessy, I think we clearly understand each other?

Miss Mea. Perfectly. We agree to marry with a mystery hanging over each of us. My poor aunt and I, through our retired mode of living, are supposed to be very suspicious persons, and yet you are ready and willing to give me your hand, let me turn out to be what I may?

Che. For better or for worse, in every sense of the word.

Miss Mea. And I undertake to be equally as rash in accepting you.

Che. We shall gain one point by this blind bargain – we are assured that we love one another for ourselves alone.

Miss Mea. Ah! how charming is that assurance – and how miserable to possess wealth, attracting a train of suitors with not one sincere, disinterested heart amongst them.

Che. Poor as I am, an heiress is my aversion – not that money lowers the worth of woman; but that its worshippers pervert her understanding, harden her heart, and teach her a false estimate of herself.

Miss Mea. Give me love in a cottage.

Che. Or a second floor in London, amongst several layers of lodgers.

Miss Mea. Ah! charming.

Che. Two knocks and a ring for the artist – then to think of painting portraits of people so atrociously ugly, that it is more than one’s poor half guinea is worth not to flatter them. To roam through Battersea or Walworth in search of the picturesque, till a stroke of fortune promotes one to the situation of drawing master to some suburban academy.

Miss Mea. Oh, delightful! to walk twenty miles twice a week for as many pounds per annum. And what must I do? I must not be idle – I’ll commence milliner – trim caps – fabricate flounces, and wait upon fantastical ladies with patterns of the last new toque – and with my needlework and your painting – my industry and your enthusiasm – we shall be happy – I am sure we shall!

Enter MISS MACAW, F.E.L

Good day, aunt, we have not had the pleasure of seeing you since your return home last night – it was very kind of that barbarian, Mr. Damper, to escort you to the door – I saw him leave you from my window.

Miss Mac. ’Twas no more than the creature’s duty.

Miss Mea. His duty!

Miss Mac. You have often heard me declare that my aversion to the male sex was so great, that the man who could be bold enough to propose to me, with the prospect of misery that must be his portion in the union, I would accept him instantly – now Mr. Damper —

Miss Mac. Mr. Damper has said that he hates me sufficiently to marry me; and, as the passion is mutual, I have taken him at his word – to-morrow morning I change my name.

Miss Mea. So soon, aunt?

Miss Mac. If you are surprised at our haste, you must consider that we have little of life’s time to lose; and, what in you would be indelicate precipitancy, with us, is but common prudence.

Miss Mea. Are you serious, aunt?

Miss Mac. Matrimony is not a subject to jest upon, whatever may be your notions of the important engagement.

Miss Mea. Bless me!

Enter NIGGLE, D.F., in haste

Nig. (To CHESTER.) Young man, where’s your mother? Pray excuse me – I mean the lady – the relation – the friend – though I care not who she may be – you know the person I mean.

Che. Miss Coy?

Nig. Yes – I have been in search of her every where – all last night – all to-day – Daphne never led Apollo such a chase as that dear creature has given me.

Che. For what?

Nig. To tell her that I can’t live without her – to tell her that my anti-matrimonial persuader is removed – that I’m a free man, and that I wish to marry her immediately – and repair the wrong that I have done her at once – before my connubial furor may again fluctuate.

Che. She is gone —

Nig. Gone! Where?

Che. To London!

Nig. Ah, my cruelty has driven her there.

Che. That, and the flight of an agent, to whose care she had entrusted her property.

Nig. Eh! what? flight of an agent – is she then in distress? – without a penny?

Che. ’Tis feared so, sir.

Nig. Huzza! That was the obstacle she alluded to – that is the reason she has avoided me – I am glad of it – I have now an opportunity of proving the disinterestedness of my passion for her. [DAMPERappears F.D.] Oh, madam (To MISS MACAW.)– what do I not owe to you? ’Tis you – you have removed this incubus – ’Tis you that have spurred this nightmare from my bosom, to take him to your own. Generous woman, let me embrace you.

[He warmly embraces MISS MACAW, who rises with great indignation.

Miss Mac. Sir! how dare you? The first time that I ever was embraced by a man in my life! How dare you, sir, take that liberty? Had I been aware of your indecorous intention I should have slapped your face – I would, sir – Ugh! the sensation is more repulsive than I ever imagined it to be.

Nig. My dear madam – my gratitude was so —

Dam. (Coming between them.) John! John! – you must learn to suppress such grateful feelings – my miseries are beginning already. Before the knot is actually tied, another is kissing my intended wife.

Nig. Then let me get one of my own, and never again will I be under such an obligation to you – I could not controul my grateful impulse – but I am wasting time, I must follow my fate immediately.

Dam. Where are you going?

Nig. To bring back the dear creature whose feelings I have so trifled with, and make an instant reparation by following your example. (Going.)

Dam. Stop, stop!

Nig. Pray don’t attempt to shake my resolution – I wont hear you.

Dam. I but wish to exact one promise from you.

Nig. What is it?

Dam. That you will give my arguments fair play, that you wont marry till I have been a wretched man a month.

Nig. Don’t exact the promise – pray don’t – it may be years before I am again in such a marrying mood. I’ll return – I will, indeed – pray wish me success – but I don’t despair – I feel quite an ardent lover again. Though I am not running away with a lady I am running after one – eh? – Ha! ha! – good bye. Now for a post chaise and a hot pursuit – for a last attack on this formidable castle of connubiality, or death in its trenches.

[Exit D.F.

Dam. Poor man – poor man.

Che. I have also received an invitation to this manor-house, with a request to bring a lady on my arm.

Dam. So have I – of course I must take you. (To MISS MACAW.)

Miss Mac. What lady else ought you to take, sir?

Che. Who is the party residing there?

Dam. I don’t know; the house has been shut up for some time – it has undergone complete repair – new furniture from London has been seen going in – a set of servants are there, but who the party is that has invited me, I neither know nor care to know.

[Goes up the stage, followed by MISS MACAW.

Che. Let us leave this loving couple to themselves – will you accompany me to this Manor house to-night?

Miss Mea. Certainly, if you wish for my society.

Che. Wish for your society! – Jessy – I must now remove the mask – nothing can occur now to prevent our happiness – and you shall know who and what I am – I am burning with impatience to tell you —

Miss Mea. (Interrupting.) I hope you are what you have seemed to be; if you are not poor, I shall never love you; if you are not the indigent struggling creature I have believed you to be, there is an end of all – there shall be no marriage – no love in a cottage – no second floor in London – I have done with you for ever.