  SURFACE and LADY SNEERWELL LADY SNEERWELL. Impossible! will not Sir Peter immediately be reconciled to CHARLES? and of consequence no longer oppose his union with MARIA? the thought is Distraction to me! SURFACE. Can Passion—furnish a Remedy? LADY SNEERWELL. No—nor cunning either. O I was a Fool, an Ideot—to league with such a Blunderer! SURFACE. Surely Lady Sneerwell I am the greatest Sufferer—yet you see I bear the accident with Calmness. LADY SNEERWELL. Because the Disappointment hasn't reached your HEART—your interest only attached you to Maria—had you felt for her—what I have for that ungrateful Libertine—neither your Temper nor Hypocrisy could prevent your showing the sharpness of your Vexation. SURFACE. But why should your Reproaches fall on me for this Disappointment? LADY SNEERWELL. Are not you the cause of it? what had you to bate in your Pursuit of Maria to pervert Lady Teazle by the way.—had you not a sufficient field for your Roguery in blinding Sir Peter and supplanting your Brother—I hate such an avarice of crimes—'tis an unfair monopoly and never prospers. SURFACE. Well I admit I have been to blame—I confess I deviated from the direct Road of wrong but I don't think we're so totally defeated neither. LADY SNEERWELL. No! SURFACE. You tell me you have made a trial of Snake since we met—and that you still believe him faithful to us— LADY SNEERWELL. I do believe so. SURFACE. And that he has undertaken should it be necessary—to swear and prove that Charles is at this Time contracted by vows and Honour to your Ladyship—which some of his former letters to you will serve to support— LADY SNEERWELL. This, indeed, might have assisted— SURFACE. Come—come it is not too late yet—but hark! this is probably my Unkle Sir Oliver—retire to that Room—we'll consult further when He's gone.— LADY SNEERWELL. Well but if HE should find you out to— SURFACE. O I have no fear of that—Sir Peter will hold his tongue for his own credit sake—and you may depend on't I shall soon Discover Sir Oliver's weak side!— LADY SNEERWELL. I have no diffidence of your abilities—only be constant to one roguery at a time— [Exit.] SURFACE. I will—I will—So 'tis confounded hard after such bad Fortune, to be baited by one's confederate in evil—well at all events my character is so much better than Charles's, that I certainly—hey—what!—this is not Sir Oliver—but old Stanley again!—Plague on't that He should return to teaze me just now—I shall have Sir Oliver come and find him here—and—— Enter SIR OLIVER Gad's life, Mr. Stanley—why have you come back to plague me at this time? you must not stay now upon my word! SIR OLIVER. Sir—I hear your Unkle Oliver is expected here—and tho' He has been so penurious to you, I'll try what He'll do for me— SURFACE. Sir! 'tis impossible for you to stay now—so I must beg——come any other time and I promise you you shall be assisted. SIR OLIVER. No—Sir Oliver and I must be acquainted— SURFACE. Zounds Sir then [I] insist on your quitting the—Room directly— SIR OLIVER. Nay Sir—— SURFACE. Sir—I insist on't—here William show this Gentleman out. Since you compel me Sir—not one moment—this is such insolence. [Going to push him out.] Enter CHARLES CHARLES. Heyday! what's the matter now?—what the Devil have you got hold of my little Broker here! Zounds—Brother, don't hurt little Premium. What's the matter—my little Fellow? SURFACE. So! He has been with you, too, has He— CHARLES. To be sure He has! Why, 'tis as honest a little——But sure Joseph you have not been borrowing money too have you? SURFACE. Borrowing—no!—But, Brother—you know sure we expect Sir Oliver every—— CHARLES. O Gad, that's true—Noll mustn't find the little Broker here to be sure— SURFACE. Yet Mr. Stanley insists—— CHARLES. Stanley—why his name's Premium— SURFACE. No no Stanley. CHARLES. No, no—Premium. SURFACE. Well no matter which—but—— CHARLES. Aye aye Stanley or Premium, 'tis the same thing as you say—for I suppose He goes by half a hundred Names, besides A. B's at the Coffee-House. [Knock.] SURFACE. 'Sdeath—here's Sir Oliver at the Door——Now I beg—Mr. Stanley—— CHARLES. Aye aye and I beg Mr. Premium—— SIR OLIVER. Gentlemen—— SURFACE. Sir, by Heaven you shall go— CHARLES. Aye out with him certainly—— SIR OLIVER. This violence—— SURFACE. 'Tis your own Fault. CHARLES. Out with him to be sure. [Both forcing SIR OLIVER out.] Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE, LADY TEAZLE, MARIA, and ROWLEY SIR PETER. My old Friend, Sir Oliver!—hey! what in the name of wonder!—Here are dutiful Nephews!—assault their Unkle at his first Visit! LADY TEAZLE. Indeed Sir Oliver 'twas well we came in to rescue you. ROWLEY. Truly it was—for I perceive Sir Oliver the character of old Stanley was no Protection to you. SIR OLIVER. Nor of Premium either—the necessities of the former could not extort a shilling from that benevolent Gentleman; and with the other I stood a chance of faring worse than my Ancestors, and being knocked down without being bid for. SURFACE. Charles! CHARLES. Joseph! SURFACE. 'Tis compleat! CHARLES. Very! SIR OLIVER. Sir Peter—my Friend and Rowley too—look on that elder Nephew of mine—You know what He has already received from my Bounty and you know also how gladly I would have look'd on half my Fortune as held in trust for him—judge then my Disappointment in discovering him to be destitute of Truth—Charity—and Gratitude— SIR PETER. Sir Oliver—I should be more surprized at this Declaration, if I had not myself found him to be selfish—treacherous and Hypocritical. LADY TEAZLE. And if the Gentleman pleads not guilty to these pray let him call ME to his Character. SIR PETER. Then I believe we need add no more—if He knows himself He will consider it as the most perfect Punishment that He is known to the world— CHARLES. If they talk this way to Honesty—what will they say to ME by and bye! SIR OLIVER. As for that Prodigal—his Brother there—— CHARLES. Aye now comes my Turn—the damn'd Family Pictures will ruin me— SURFACE. Sir Oliver—Unkle—will you honour me with a hearing— CHARLES. I wish Joseph now would make one of his long speeches and I might recollect myself a little— SIR OLIVER. And I suppose you would undertake to vindicate yourself entirely— SURFACE. I trust I could— SIR OLIVER. Nay—if you desert your Roguery in its Distress and try to be justified—you have even less principle than I thought you had.—[To CHARLES SURFACE] Well, Sir—and YOU could JUSTIFY yourself too I suppose— CHARLES. Not that I know of, Sir Oliver. SIR OLIVER. What[!] little Premium has been let too much into the secret I presume. CHARLES. True—Sir—but they were Family Secrets, and should not be mentioned again you know. ROWLEY. Come Sir Oliver I know you cannot speak of Charles's Follies with anger. SIR OLIVER. Odd's heart no more I can—nor with gravity either—Sir Peter do you know the Rogue bargain'd with me for all his Ancestors—sold me judges and Generals by the Foot, and Maiden Aunts as cheap as broken China! CHARLES. To be sure, Sir Oliver, I did make a little free with the Family Canvas that's the truth on't:—my Ancestors may certainly rise in judgment against me there's no denying it—but believe me sincere when I tell you, and upon my soul I would not say so if I was not—that if I do not appear mortified at the exposure of my Follies, it is because I feel at this moment the warmest satisfaction in seeing you, my liberal benefactor. SIR OLIVER. Charles—I believe you—give me your hand again: the ill-looking little fellow over the Couch has made your Peace. CHARLES. Then Sir—my Gratitude to the original is still encreased. LADY TEAZLE. [Advancing.] Yet I believe, Sir Oliver, here is one whom Charles is still more anxious to be reconciled to. SIR OLIVER. O I have heard of his Attachment there—and, with the young Lady's Pardon if I construe right that Blush—— SIR PETER. Well—Child—speak your sentiments—you know—we are going to be reconciled to Charles— MARIA. Sir—I have little to say—but that I shall rejoice to hear that He is happy—For me—whatever claim I had to his Affection—I willing resign to one who has a better title. CHARLES. How Maria! SIR PETER. Heyday—what's the mystery now? while he appeared an incorrigible Rake, you would give your hand to no one else and now that He's likely to reform I'll warrant You won't have him! MARIA. His own Heart—and Lady Sneerwell know the cause. [CHARLES.] Lady Sneerwell! SURFACE. Brother it is with great concern—I am obliged to speak on this Point, but my Regard to justice obliges me—and Lady Sneerwell's injuries can no longer—be concealed—[Goes to the Door.] Enter LADY SNEERWELL SIR PETER. Soh! another French milliner egad! He has one in every Room in the House I suppose— LADY SNEERWELL. Ungrateful Charles! Well may you be surprised and feel for the indelicate situation which your Perfidy has forced me into. CHARLES. Pray Unkle, is this another Plot of yours? for as I have Life I don't understand it. SURFACE. I believe Sir there is but the evidence of one Person more necessary to make it extremely clear. SIR PETER. And that Person—I imagine, is Mr. Snake—Rowley—you were perfectly right to bring him with us—and pray let him appear. ROWLEY. Walk in, Mr. Snake— Enter SNAKE I thought his Testimony might be wanted—however it happens unluckily that He comes to confront Lady Sneerwell and not to support her— LADY SNEERWELL. A Villain!—Treacherous to me at last! Speak, Fellow, have you too conspired against me? SNAKE. I beg your Ladyship—ten thousand Pardons—you paid me extremely Liberally for the Lie in question—but I unfortunately have been offer'd double to speak the Truth. LADY SNEERWELL. The Torments of Shame and Disappointment on you all! LADY TEAZLE. Hold—Lady Sneerwell—before you go let me thank you for the trouble you and that Gentleman have taken in writing Letters from me to Charles and answering them yourself—and let me also request you to make my Respects to the Scandalous College—of which you are President—and inform them that Lady Teazle, Licentiate, begs leave to return the diploma they granted her—as she leaves of[f] Practice and kills Characters no longer. LADY SNEERWELL. Provoking—insolent!—may your Husband live these fifty years! [Exit.] SIR PETER. Oons what a Fury—— LADY TEAZLE. A malicious Creature indeed! SIR PETER. Hey—not for her last wish?— LADY TEAZLE. O No— SIR OLIVER. Well Sir, and what have you to say now? SURFACE. Sir, I am so confounded, to find that Lady Sneerwell could be guilty of suborning Mr. Snake in this manner to impose on us all that I know not what to say——however, lest her Revengeful Spirit should prompt her to injure my Brother I had certainly better follow her directly. [Exit.] SIR PETER. Moral to the last drop! SIR OLIVER. Aye and marry her Joseph if you can.—Oil and Vinegar egad:—you'll do very well together. ROWLEY. I believe we have no more occasion for Mr. Snake at Present— SNAKE. Before I go—I beg Pardon once for all for whatever uneasiness I have been the humble instrument of causing to the Parties present. SIR PETER. Well—well you have made atonement by a good Deed at last— SNAKE. But I must Request of the Company that it shall never be known— SIR PETER. Hey!—what the Plague—are you ashamed of having done a right thing once in your life? SNAKE. Ah: Sir—consider I live by the Badness of my Character!—I have nothing but my Infamy to depend on!—and, if it were once known that I had been betray'd into an honest Action, I should lose every Friend I have in the world. SIR OLIVER. Well—well we'll not traduce you by saying anything to your Praise never fear. [Exit SNAKE.] SIR PETER. There's a precious Rogue—Yet that fellow is a Writer and a Critic. LADY TEAZLE. See[,] Sir Oliver[,] there needs no persuasion now to reconcile your Nephew and Maria— SIR OLIVER. Aye—aye—that's as it should be and egad we'll have the wedding to-morrow morning— CHARLES. Thank you, dear Unkle! SIR PETER. What! you rogue don't you ask the Girl's consent first— CHARLES. Oh, I have done that a long time—above a minute ago—and She has look'd yes— MARIA. For Shame—Charles—I protest Sir Peter, there has not been a word—— SIR OLIVER. Well then the fewer the Better—may your love for each other never know—abatement. SIR PETER. And may you live as happily together as Lady Teazle and I—intend to do— CHARLES. Rowley my old Friend—I am sure you congratulate me and I suspect too that I owe you much. SIR OLIVER. You do, indeed, Charles— ROWLEY. If my Efforts to serve you had not succeeded you would have been in my debt for the attempt—but deserve to be happy—and you over-repay me. SIR PETER. Aye honest Rowley always said you would reform. CHARLES. Why as to reforming Sir Peter I'll make no promises—and that I take to be a proof that I intend to set about it—But here shall be my Monitor—my gentle Guide.—ah! can I leave the Virtuous path those Eyes illumine? Tho' thou, dear Maid, should'st wave [waive] thy Beauty's Sway, —Thou still must Rule—because I will obey: An humbled fugitive from Folly View, No sanctuary near but Love and YOU: You can indeed each anxious Fear remove, For even Scandal dies if you approve. [To the audience.] EPILOGUE BY MR. COLMAN SPOKEN BY LADY TEAZLE I, who was late so volatile and gay, Like a trade-wind must now blow all one way, Bend all my cares, my studies, and my vows, To one dull rusty weathercock—my spouse! So wills our virtuous bard—the motley Bayes Of crying epilogues and laughing plays! Old bachelors, who marry smart young wives, Learn from our play to regulate your lives: Each bring his dear to town, all faults upon her— London will prove the very source of honour. Plunged fairly in, like a cold bath it serves, When principles relax, to brace the nerves: Such is my case; and yet I must deplore That the gay dream of dissipation's o'er. And say, ye fair! was ever lively wife, Born with a genius for the highest life, Like me untimely blasted in her bloom, Like me condemn'd to such a dismal doom? Save money—when I just knew how to waste it! Leave London—just as I began to taste it! Must I then watch the early crowing cock, The melancholy ticking of a clock; In a lone rustic hall for ever pounded, With dogs, cats, rats, and squalling brats surrounded? With humble curate can I now retire, (While good Sir Peter boozes with the squire,) And at backgammon mortify my soul, That pants for loo, or flutters at a vole? Seven's the main! Dear sound that must expire, Lost at hot cockles round a Christmas fire; The transient hour of fashion too soon spent, Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content! Farewell the plumed head, the cushion'd tete, That takes the cushion from its proper seat! That spirit-stirring drum!—card drums I mean, Spadille—odd trick—pam—basto—king and queen! And you, ye knockers, that, with brazen throat, The welcome visitors' approach denote; Farewell all quality of high renown, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious town! Farewell! your revels I partake no more, And Lady Teazle's occupation's o'er! All this I told our bard; he smiled, and said 'twas clear, I ought to play deep tragedy next year. Meanwhile he drew wise morals from his play, And in these solemn periods stalk'd away:— "Bless'd were the fair like you; her faults who stopp'd, And closed her follies when the curtain dropp'd! No more in vice or error to engage, Or play the fool at large on life's great stage." END OF PLAY
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