  “The School for Scandal” ends, it will be remembered, with the reconciliation of Sir Peter and Lady Teazle, the complete exposure of Joseph Surface and the rehabilitation of Charles. But how long did the Teazle reconciliation last? And if Sir Oliver Surface left all his fortune to his nephew Charles, how long did that young gentleman take to run through it? THE RELAPSE OF LADY TEAZLE.Scene.—Room in Sir Peter Teazle’s house. Sir Peter and Lady Teazle discovered wrangling as in Act II. Sir Peter. Lady Teazle, Lady Teazle, I’ll not bear it. Lady Teazle. Sir Peter, Sir Peter, you’ve told me that a hundred times. This habit of repeating yourself is most distressing. ’Tis a sure sign of old age. Sir Peter. [In a passion.] Oons, Madam, will you never be tired of flinging my age in my face? Lady Teazle. Lud, Sir Peter, ’tis you that fling it in mine. How often have you said to me [beating time] “when an old bachelor marries a young wife——” Sir Peter. And if I have, Lady Teazle, you needn’t repeat it after me. But you live only to plague me. And yet ’twas but six months ago you vowed never to cross me again. Yes, Madam, six months ago, when I found you concealed behind a screen in Mr. Surface’s library, you promised that if I would forgive you your future conduct should prove the sincerity of your repentance. I forgave you, Madam, and this is my reward! Lady Teazle. And am I to blame, Sir Peter, for your ill-humours? Must I always be making concessions? To please you, I have given up all routs and assemblies, attend no balls nor quadrilles, talk no scandal, never ogle nor flirt. I go Sir Peter. [Fretfully.] Just so, Madam; that is what I complain of. All the while you are longing to return to these follies. You are not happy when you are alone with me. Lady Teazle. Great heavens, Sir Peter: you must not ask for miracles. What woman of fashion is ever happy alone with her husband? Sir Peter. There it is, Lady Teazle. You think only of fashion. And yet, when I married you—— Lady Teazle. [Yawning.] Lud, Sir Peter, why will you be always returning to that painful subject? Sir Peter. Vastly painful, no doubt, Madam, since it prevents you from marrying Mr. Surface, behind whose screen I found you. Lady Teazle. [Yawning more heartily.] Mr. Surface? But ’twas Charles you used to suspect. Sir Peter. [Angrily.] And now ’tis Joseph. Zounds, Madam, is a man never to be allowed to change his mind? [Raising his voice in fury.] I say ’tis Joseph! Joseph!! Joseph!!! [Enter Joseph Surface. Sir Peter and Lady Teazle are obviously disconcerted at this inopportune arrival, and say nothing. Joseph has greatly changed in appearance in the six months which have elapsed between the play and the sequel. He has lost his sleekness and his air of conscious virtue, and looks like a careless, good-humoured man-about-town. Joseph. [Obviously enjoying their discomfort.] Sir Peter, your servant. Lady Teazle, your most obedient [bows profoundly]. Sir Peter. [Stiffly.] To what, Mr. Surface, do we owe the honour of this visit? Joseph. [Blandly, correcting him.] Pleasure, Sir Peter. Sir Peter. [Testily.] I said “honour,” Sir. Joseph. [Easily.] I came at the invitation of Sir Oliver, who is staying in your house. He desired to see me. Lady Teazle. [Viciously, to Sir Peter.] If this gentleman’s business is with Sir Oliver, perhaps he will explain why he has intruded in this room. Joseph. [Amused.] With pleasure. My attention was arrested by the sound of voices raised in dispute. I heard my name mentioned loudly more than once, and, recognizing one of the voices as that of Lady Teazle [with a low bow], I thought it better to interpose to defend my character at once. Lady Teazle. [Stamping her foot.] Insolent! Sir Peter. [Chuckling.] Ha, ha! Very good. I’ faith, Mr. Surface, I could almost find it in my heart to forgive you for your injuries towards me when you talk like that. Joseph. Injuries Lady Teazle. Monster! Joseph. [Continuing.] Unhappily, Lady Teazle mistook the nature of my attentions and I, knowing her temper [bowing to Lady Teazle], feared to undeceive her lest she should use her influence to prejudice me in the eyes of your ward. That, Sir Peter, is the true explanation of the situation in which you found Lady Teazle on that unlucky morning. Lady Teazle. [With suppressed fury.] Pray Sir Peter, do you propose to continue to permit this gentleman to speak of me in this way? Sir Peter. Certainly, Madam. Everything that Mr. Surface has said seems to me to bear the stamp of truth. Lady Teazle. Ah! Joseph. So, you see, Sir Peter, you never had any real cause of jealousy towards me. My conduct was foolish, I admit, but it was never criminal. Sir Peter. Joseph, I believe you. Give me your hand. Six months ago I thought you guilty of the basest treachery towards me. But a year of marriage with Lady Teazle has convinced me that, in her relations with you as in her relations with me, it is always Lady Teazle who is in the wrong. [They shake hands warmly. Lady Teazle. I will not stay here to be insulted in this manner. I will go straight to Lady Sneerwell’s, and tear both your characters to tatters. [Exit in a violent passion. Sir Peter. Oons, what a fury! But when an old bachelor marries a young wife—— Joseph. Come, come, Sir Peter, no sentiments! Sir Peter. What, you say that! My dear Joseph, this is indeed a reformation. Had it been Charles now, I should not have been surprised. Joseph. Egad, Sir Peter, in the matter of sentiments Charles, for a long time, had a most unfair advantage of me. For, having no character to lose, he had no need of sentiments to support it. But now I have as little character as he, and we start fair. Now I am a free man; I say what I think, do what I please. Scandal has done its worst with me, and I no longer fear it. Whereas, when I had a character for morality to maintain, all my time was wasted in trying to live up to it. I had to conceal every trifling flirtation, and had finally wrapped myself in such a web of falsehood that when your hand tore away the veil, I give you my word, I was almost grateful. Depend upon it, Sir Peter, there’s no possession in the world so troublesome as a good reputation. Sir Peter. [Digging him in the ribs.] Ah, Joseph, you’re a sad dog. But here comes your uncle, Sir Oliver. I’ll leave you with him. [Exit. Enter Sir Oliver, reading a sheaf of legal documents. Sir Oliver. [Reading.] Eighty, one hundred and twenty, two hundred and twenty, three hundred pounds! Gad, the dog will ruin me. Joseph.
Sir Oliver, your servant. Sir Oliver. [Looking up.] Eh? Is that you, Nephew. Yes, I remember. I sent for you. Joseph. You are busy this morning, Uncle. I’ll wait upon you another day. Sir Oliver. No, no, Joseph. Stay, and hear what I have to tell you. I sent for you to say that I had decided to pardon your past misconduct and restore you to favour. Six months of Charles’s society have convinced me of the folly of adopting a reprobate. Joseph. I thought they would, Uncle. Sir Oliver. Your brother’s extravagances pass all bounds. Here are four writs which were served upon him but yesterday. And the fellow has the assurance to send them on to me. [Joseph laughs heartily.] Zounds, Nephew, don’t stand chuckling there. And his character has not reformed one whit, in spite of his promises. His flirtations with my Lady Sneerwell and others are so excessive that Maria has quite thrown him over, and the engagement is broken off. Add to this that I have paid his debts three times, only to find him contracting fresh liabilities, and you may judge that my patience is exhausted. Joseph. But these are old stories, Uncle. You knew that Charles was vicious and extravagant when you made him your heir. He has done nothing fresh to offend you. Sir Oliver. On the contrary. He has done something which has hurt me deeply. Joseph. How absurd of him, Uncle, when he knows that he is dependent wholly on your bounty! Sir Oliver. Wait till you have Joseph. [Much amused.] And did you play little Premium a second time, Uncle? Sir Oliver. [Testily.] Certainly not, Sir. On this occasion I left the rogue to settle matters for himself. Joseph. But I see no great harm in this. Why should not Charles sell his furniture? Sir Oliver. [Angrily.] Deuce take his furniture. He sold my picture! Joseph. What, “the ill-looking little fellow over the settee”? Sir Oliver. Yes. Joseph. Ha! ha! ha! Delicious! Sold his Uncle’s portrait! Gad, I like his spirit. Sir Oliver. You seem vastly entertained, Nephew! Joseph. I confess the humour of the situation appeals to me. Sir Oliver. Happily for you I am less easily amused. No, no; Charles is a heartless scoundrel, and I’ll disown him. Joseph. No, no, Uncle. He’s no worse than other young men. Sir Oliver. But he sold my picture! Joseph. He was pressed for money. Sir Oliver. [Exasperated.] But he sold my picture!! Joseph. He meant no harm, I’ll be bound. Sir Oliver. [Still more enraged.] But he sold my picture!!! [Enter Sir Peter hurriedly, looking pale and disordered. Joseph. My dear Sir Peter, you are ill! You have had bad news? Sir Oliver. Sir Peter, old friend, what is it? Sir Peter. [Gasping.] Lady Teazle—— [Stops, choked with passion. Sir Oliver. Not dead? Sir Peter. Dead! Hell and furies! if it were only that! No; run away with your profligate nephew Charles! Joseph. Impossible! Sir Oliver. Is this certain? Sir Peter. Ay. Rowley saw them driving together in a post-chaise towards Richmond, not ten minutes ago. Sir Oliver. Then I disown him. Joseph, you are my heir. But see that you behave yourself, or I’ll disinherit you, too, and leave my money to Curtain. |
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